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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic


Twenty years ago, a young boy named Kazuya Mishima was thrown off a cliff by his father, Heihachi, and almost killed. Heihachi Mishima is the owner of the powerful corporation, The Mishima
Zaibatsu, and did it for nefarious reasons. Kazuya survived due to mysterious circumstances, and twenty years later, is on a quest for revenge, to overthrow and kill his corrupt father. He finds
the perfect opportunity to do so in the King of Iron Fist tournament, a fighting tournament organised by Heihachi of the sixteen finest fighters in the world, to prove who is the greatest. Kazuya
must face plenty of obstacles in the tournament and his lust for vengeance.
















Kansu Valley, Japan. June 1974

“You killed my mother!” The boy yelled as he kicked and punched at the midsection of the main before him. The shouts reverberated around the cliff walls, as did the dull thud-thud  of the young boy as he hit his fathers solid stomach. The man just looked at him, feeling no pain, with no expression on his face, his eyes telling the disgust he felt looking down at his 5 year old son. Heihachi Mishima would stand there, a bulking figure, arms folded, as his son hit and screamed and kicked him. There was a reason why he brought the boy to the clifftop and it was to teach him a lesson. A lesson he ensured the boy would never forget.

With seemingly no effort, Heihachi lifted his hand and smacked the boy in the face with the back of his fist. The boy went sprawling to the ground, eating a face full of dirt in the process. Still, the boy rose and ran back at his father, yelling and hitting his father with all his might. The boys punches were no match to the much larger, immensely stronger Heihachi, and Heihachi began to get irritated. This is wasting my time. He hit the boy once again square in the mouth. As the boy once again felt the hard ground underneath him, he stumbled to his feet, dangerously close to the cliffs immense, never ending chasms, and stared at his father with hatred, a tear in his eye, screamed “Father, I will tear you to pieces!”

Heihachi merely sneered at his young son and exclaimed “I am sick of this nonsense, boy. Accept your fate.” With those words, he kicked the boy in the stomach and he collapsed in a heap. Noticing his son was unconscious, he picked the young boy up in his arms. He walked towards the cliff edge until he was his feet were touching the edge.

“Kazuya” he announced. “Time to find out if you have what it takes to helm the Mishima Zaibatsu.”

Without a second thought, he dropped his 5 year old son off the cliff edge. As he peered down the cliff edge, he was satisfied the boy would not trouble him anymore.

The boy awoke suddenly. He noticed the orange tinted dirt underneath him, and tried to recall where he was. The dim lighting did not help matters for the boy, as he could barely see his surroundings. He then noticed the crow perched on his leg, and attempted to brush it away. A searing pain shocked the boy, an agony he could barely tolerate enveloped his whole body.

He shrieked in pain, unable to think clearly, as the tears flowed down his face freely. He stared at his chest with horror, as blood gushed out of a large gash going from the top of his chest to stomach. He thought of his mother, she could help him heal. It was then that everything came back to the boy.

His mother...... dead. His father..... Anger clouded the pain momentarily. He now knew his father had thrown him down the cliff and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it. His father....rage consumed then, as he lay there, a broken boy near death. This was all his fault, he ruined everything.... First Grandfather, now Mother, he must be stopped. Suddenly, something clicked inside the boy. As the anger and fury mixed with the pain of his entire body being broken, something dark rose from within the boy.

He felt his bones mend, his muscles heal and his body change. He convulsed on the ground as his skin went from white to a dark shade of purple. He felt something, something deep inside, trying to take control. Suddenly, the boy lost control of his body.


His eyes suddenly changed from blue to a bright red, and he rose in the air, as if being carried by invisible hands. He noticed large purple wings on his back with disinterest, flapping as he rose out of the chasm, a smile on his lips. The boy had no memory of what had transpired after he had become this..... thing, all he remembered was waking up on the cliff top once again human. But he had fully healed. Despite the surface wounds, the boy had gotten better.

The boy made a vow that day. That he would do whatever it took, whatever, to bring justice to his father. He made an oath to himself, and he made it his life mission to fulfil that oath.



Chapter 1

Osaka Suburbs, Japan. May 1994.


Kazuya Mishima stood in front  of the mirror, examining the scar running down the length of his chest and abdomen.. Standing at 5 ft 11, Kazuya is a physical specimen to say the least. Weighing 76kg of pure muscle, his jet black hair was slicked back, sticking out at the back in one point, the spike curved upwards. His brown eyes were hard and observant, constantly wary and ready for danger, barely concealed rage hidden behind them. He was wearing his white martial arts trousers, with the black Mishima belt tied tight around his waist. Barefoot, as he usually was while training.

His thick black eyebrows were knotted together in deep thought. Kazuya ran his finger down the length of the scar, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. He had finished training in the small gym area he had set up when he bought the small house on the outskirts of Osaka, and found again his mind had wandered to Heihachi. “My esteemed father” he muttered to himself, spitting the word ‘father’ out as if it was a disease. He took off the red studded gloves he used when training and fighting, tossing them on his wardrobe.

His scar, still an ugly red colour 20 years after he received it, had become a distinguishable trait of his. He sat on the double bed, and looked out the window. He noticed the local kids were playing football, and they all cheered as one boy scored a goal. He sometimes wondered what it would’ve been like to have a normal childhood. He dismissed the thoughts quickly. He had no time to contemplate on ‘what ifs’. Instead of playing games and forging cherished memories with his parents, Kazuya had spent the last twenty years of his life training. The memory of that day, was forever engrained in his memory.

Being tossed off a cliff like that, by his own father... He had changed that day. Once he climbed that cliff, aided by whatever was inside him, he had completely changed. Once a happy, fun-loving, kind child, he had become withdrawn. He isolated himself, became a loner. And most of all, he became focused. He trained, and when he felt he could not train any more, he continued to train.

He perfected the unique Mishima style karate and adapted some personalised methods and techniques to it. He had entered martial arts tournaments in Japan, the States and the rest of the world. He had won them all, and he had collected quite the undefeated streak. In preparation for the moment he would finally challenge his father in combat and finally overthrow his corrupt regime as head of the Mishima Zaibatsu.  That was what he spent his life doing for the last 20 years.

Kazuya strolled out the wooden door that led to the patio of his backyard. As he observed the quiet surroundings of the small suburban estate, he thought of what the Mishima Zaibatsu had accomplished under the leadership of Heihachi. Kazuya snorted. He’s done plenty to benefit himself, and not much for others.

The Mishima Zaibatsu was a huge Corporation whose headquarters are located in Tokyo. The most powerful business in Japan, perhaps even internationally, The Zaibatsu was once a well respected organization under his grandfathers tutelage. However, twenty years ago, Heihachi had overthrown Kazuyas grandfather, and completely warped the company. It became completely militarised, and many of its resources had been poured into weapon research and development. Of course, he had made sure to keep face by covering up with ‘government research’, providing weaponry to the Japanese military. His true intentions Kazuya was well aware of: World Domination. Heihachi was a proud and arrogant man, he did things to solely benefit himself and to ensure he became more powerful. A world run by his father gave Kazuya disturbing images.

Kazuya knew his father must be stopped. Not only for his corruption and excess power, but for revenge. Kazuya will never forget the day he almost died at the hands of Heihachi.  Heihachi will pay. Kazuya thinks, staring at his hands. With my own hands, I will kill him.



Chapter 2

Mishima Residence, Tokyo

“Thwaa” Heihachi yelled, as he thrust his palm outwards, pushing against the air. Heihachi stood in his garden, in the stone patio. He spent as much time as possible at his cabin, given he didn’t have much spare time, most of it spent at the Zaibatsu headquarters.

A bulking figure, Heihachi showed he was still in shape, despite being well into his mid fifties. 80 kilos of muscle and standing at 5 ft 10. He was mostly bald in the centre of his head, with jet black hair sticking up at either side of his head. He had an impressive horseshoe moustache that was clearly well groomed and trimmed. His hazel eyes were constantly collecting information, revealing his intelligence and ruthless nature. He was sporting a traditional grey karate gi (outfit) with his trademark tiger head on the back.

His sandals rubbed up against the stone, as electricity ran through his body and radiated from him. Heihachi grinned. It was a Mishima talent, to be able to generate and harness electricity within the body. Extremely useful when in combat. He still unfortunately doesn’t understand the science of this ability, despite the research and trying. He also was aware, that his pathetic excuse of a son possessed that ability.

 Heihachi continued to practice some striking and kicks, before deciding to end the session prematurely in order to find Kuma. He withdrew from the Mishima karate stance, and yelled the simple command “Kuma! Come!” A huge grizzly bear came crashing out of the forest adjacent to his cabin, and sauntered up to Heihachi.

One of Heihachis most loyal and valued friend was his bear. He had trained Kuma many years ago, finding the bear was surprisingly intelligent and taught him sign language. He understood Japanese and sign language, and could even communicate himself in sign language. As he patted the bear on the head, he found that Kuma was the only being he truly considered family. His family, especially his feeble son, were a pathetic disgrace. He did love a woman, his former wife..... but that was a complicated mess.

“Father?” a voice came from behind him. He turned to see his adoptive son, Lee Chaolan, standing in the doorway. Eccentric did not begin to describe him. Nicknamed ‘Silver Haired Demon’, his most noticeable trait was his unique silver hair. A lean but muscular man, he had an odd, colourful wardrobe, as today he was wearing a purple vest with a signature unicorn on the back, with leather pants and gloves. While Heihachi found him annoying and attention-seeking, he could be useful. He had appointed him as head of IT for a reason. “What is it Lee?” Heihachi responded with a grunt “This is my day off.”

“Didn’t mean to disturb you.” He exclaimed (Heihachi could not tell if he could sense sarcasm), “But the Jack prototype seems to be completely effective. It’s weaponry, and design seem to be working spectacularly well”. He smiled widely. “Just thought you’d like to know, Father.”

He leaned against the doorframe, waiting for Heihachi to respond. “Good to hear.” he grunted without enthusiasm. “Now leave me alone. You can have the rest of the day off, do whatever you want.”(He knew that what Lee did during the weekends was suspicious at best, it involved women and fighting, but it did not affect his performance.) Lee nodded.

“Much appreciated. I’ll see you later, Father.” As he moved to leave, Heihachi suddenly remembered something. “Any news of Kazuya? Has he showed his moronic face recently?” he shouted after the retreating Lee. “Afraid not.” He yelled back, the door shutting before Heihachi could respond. Heihachi clenched his fist in frustration. No one else under his employment would dare to be so insolent in his presence, but Chaolan was privileged. He was in technicality a Mishima, plus he was extremely useful in technology. Heihachi honestly did not care at all about the boy, he only adopted him to all those years ago to invoke jealousy out of Kazuya.  He had a fighting ability that could rival Kazuyas and was just as cunning. At least he did what he was told too.

Kazuya. How he would deal with the little shit, Heihachi still did not know. He continued to be a huge thorn in his side, (taking every opportunity to insult and threaten him and the Zaibatsu) and he knew the boy wanted to fight him. Heihachi would like nothing more than to beat that little buffoon into a pulp once again, but had not desired to spend the necessary time and resources searching for the boy. He had a business to run, after all. The Zaibatsu was making many breakthroughs in weaponry and robotics. Heihachi had faced many a challenge in his life, and none had defeated him in combat. He was almost invincible.

Yet, it had been almost 10 years since he had participated in an official tournament or even official fight, and people may doubt that he is the best fighter in the world today. Almost immediately, a thought struck Heihachi.  He looked down at Kumas big brown eyes and stated “I should set up a tournament.”

Kuma stared at him, bewildered by the sudden outburst. A tournament of the best fighters in the world with an ultimate prize. Not only will he be able to beat today’s best fighters, but also be able dispose of Kazuya once and for all. “I’ll put the Zaibatsu on the line” he smiled a devious smile. An opportunity to not only fight his father, but to take his fathers company? Kazuya would never resist.





Chapter 3



Kazuya was working the bag when he heard. As he hit the bag, the sound of flesh hitting off leather echoed around his bare house. He had felt...... ‘it’ try to resurface earlier today. He still did not understand what he turned into that day when he was thrown down the cliff. It frequently attempted to resurface numerous times over the years. It had saved his life. But he also knew this mysterious entity was dark, and very dangerous. He had learned to harness his anger and not allow it to reach an uncontrollable point, where ‘it’ could take full control. A mixture of skill and controlled anger were his weapons in battle.

He was half listening to the TV in the sitting room where the news is on. He could hear fragments In sports..... World Cup..... Heihachi Mishima.... Upon hearing the last segment, he hit the bag so hard it went flying off its hinges. He glanced at the bag on the way out, slightly frustrated. This is the third one this month.

Slightly out of breath, he headed to the kitchen quickly to see the anchor relaying the news. “Heihachi Mishima in a press conference earlier today, has announced a brand new fighting tournament, inviting the best fighters all over the world in a single elimination contest . The controversy is in the prize: the winner will not only get 1 billion US Dollars, but get control of the Mishima Zaibatsu. We will now go to footage we have of the conference earlier today.

Kazuyas interest was now intensely focused on the screen, yearning to hear more. “Let’s see what he has to say.” Kazuya mumbled to himself, still wondering why Heihachi was putting so much at stake. The TV screen cut to just outside the Zaibatsu headquarters, where a platform was set up, with Heihachi standing at the helm of the podium, which had the classic shuriken logo of the Zaibatsu on the front, wearing a fine grey suit and surrounded by various security people and crowded by journalists.

He saw his ‘brother’ standing behind Heihachi, wearing a similar purple waistcoat that he always wears and staring off into the mass crowd of reporters. “You see, I have seen many fighting sports tournaments: boxing, kickboxing, mixed martial arts and won some myself. While these can be somewhat entertaining, this tournament will be far superior then any of those sports. This tournament will decide who is the greatest fighter in the world. No holds barred fighting, no referees, no judges. The only way is to win by knockout- or other fatal means, if necessary. Martial Artists, Boxers, Wrestlers, I will scour the earth in search for the sixteen men or women who will partake in the first ever: King of the Iron Fist Tournament!

Of course, there will be a grand prize for the winner. He will not only get the honour of being the greatest fighter in the world, but 1 billion US Dollars! And, they will gain control of my corporation, the most powerful and successful corporation in the world: The Mishima Zaibatsu!” Heihachi paused momentarily for dramatic effect and questions exploded from all the journalists, but Heihachi continued regardless.

“It would not be a great tournament without the greatest fighter, either. I am also formally announcing myself as the first competitor in the tournament. This will be something you have never seen before, I promise you that. I will also tell you despite who is in this tournament, despite who they are, I will walk out the victor and the best fighter in the world.” He turned and stared at the camera after that line and Kazuya glared back, knowing who he was referring too.

The TV soon switched to the next story as Kazuya contemplated this message. A spot was open for him in the tournament, which was clear. He wasn’t sure the exact reason why Heihachi set up the tournament, but Kazuya could hazard a guess that he a huge part of it. Heihachi only did something to benefit himself and getting rid of Kazuya would definitely benefit Heihachi. Kazuya didn’t care, honestly, why Heihachi set up this tournament. All he knew is that it’s best opportunity to finally end his father.



Chapter 4

JFK Airport, New York. July 1994

Paul Phoenix hates planes. As he stood in the queue, preparing to board the flight out of JFK airport, he thought of all the better ways he could travel. Car? Yes. Motorbike? Definitely. He already was missing his Motus at home. Sleek black and a massive bulky, muscle bike. Paul would spend hours travelling to different states and cities all over the US, on his bike. Standing at an impressive at 6 ft 1, Paul Phoenix is an impressive man. Considered to be one of the best fighters in the world, he was known by his tall blonde flattop, adding an extra 3 inches to his height, and was wearing his red gi uniform under his leather jacket and pants.

Known for his hot-blooded nature and determination to be the best, he will fight anyone solidify this claim. All passengers please board the flight. “Finally!” Paul proclaimed loudly, causing many of the people standing in the queue to stare. “It felt like hours just standing here and waiting” The Asian man standing in front of him sighed and turned around “You got to learn how to be patient, Paul. You know the flight to Tokyo is going to be 14 hours?” Paul groaned, as the line shuffled forward. “You can’t be serious, Marshall. All this sitting around is getting me antsy. This tournament better have some premier competition.”

Marshall Law would only nod, well used to his friends constant complaining about flying. If one looked at Marshall Law, you would’ve instantly assumed he was Bruce Lee. The resemblance was uncanny, as he stood at 5 ft 7, was a similar light weight, had similar facial features and was of mixed Cantonese-American blood. He also had the skilled fighting ability of Bruce Lee, being as quick and strong as the legend. He also was vying for bigger and better competition, as well as the prize money and the title of the King of the Iron Fist, leading to him entering the tournament also.

As the two boarded the plane, Paul was wondering if Marshall had brought any food for the journey. Marshall may be a great fighter, but Paul was sure he was one of the best cooks in America, Paul knew from experience. Paul Phoenix needed to eat to keep his energy up during his intense workouts and fights and Marshall often cooked high carb and protein meals for both. As he took his seat beside Marshall who’d, of course, gotten the window seat), he turned to him and began to ask “Do you-“ “Yeah, in my rucksack. Here, there’s some chicken curry.” Marshall yanked a tub out of his bag and tossed it on Pauls lap.

As Paul began to wolf down his food, he once again was thankful to have Marshall as a reliable friend. The two had known each other for years, and had formed a strong bond. While Paul was hot headed and impulsive, Marshall was the calmer, more collected one of the two. The duo had been in some sticky situations, some that required lateral thinking and quick thinking, where Marshall specialised and others just required brute force, fists and feet, where both men specialised, though Paul strongly believed he was the superior fighter.

He wasn’t going to bring that up, and start another heated debate between the two. Instead, Paul decided to discuss what to expect from the King of the Iron Fist tournament. “You know who any of the other fighters are here? I know the Mishimas are in, and I’ve waited a long time to bash their heads.” Marshall scratched his chin thoughtfully, and replied “Well, I know Lees in there. Haven’t seen him in about a year now.”

Paul quickly recalled the two years Lee Chaolan had spent in business school and how the three would train together every evening in Marshall’s dojo. “Lees quick and technical, but he can be too flashy at times. Anyone else, that we maybe fought before?” “Fought before? Don’t think so. The two wrestlers are in there, King and Armor King, that you nearly got in a brawl with that time in Hells Kitchen. There are all different types of fighters from different countries and styles, only a few from the States. Trust me, plenty we haven’t faced before.”

Paul sat back in his chair, satisfied with that answer. “Good. I like facing the unpredictable. Will only solidify that I am the best in the universe.” Marshall rolled his eyes at the oft used catchphrase, and exclaimed “Well, you better hope you’re not facing me then. “ But Paul was not listening, already lost in his own daydreams. 1 billion dollars......what could a man do with that money? I could finally get that Harley I always wanted.

Phoenix smiled a satisfied smile as his thoughts turned towards perhaps his biggest desire, one particular competitor. I finally get the chance to face Kazuya Mishima. And with that chance, there will be no doubt in anyones mind. I will beat Kazuya Mishima and be finally recognized as the undisputed best! Marshall had already drifted off, exhausted from spending the whole night last night saying his goodbyes to his wife and son. Paul threw a few powerful fists at the chair in front of him, pretending it was one of the Mishimas. Paul ignored the complaints from the weasely man sitting in that chair complaining of a concussion and could barely hold in his anticipation for the tournament.


Chapter 5


Heihachi once again stood at the podium, this time facing each of the competitors who were seated in foldable chairs directly below him. They had their gear on, seemingly expecting a fight. A gaggle of reporters were tussling each other behind a barricade set up to separate the fighters and them. Heihachi eyes scanned the fighters sitting before him. He saw a man wearing a tiger mask, a blonde woman with striking beauty and a steely glare, and a skeleton in samurai gear, who was spinning a sword around and the sword flashed various colours, among various other characters. The worlds supreme fighters.  Heihachi in particular noticed an American with an unusual hairstyle fidgeting in his chair and cracking his knuckles repeatedly. This is the infamous Paul Phoenix. Well, I have a surprise for you in the first round.

 A Chinese man would sit beside him and Lee, who also seemed quite bored of the proceedings, examining a rose he flourished from his pocket, while the Chinese man was watching, mildly interested. As he looked at he noticed there was one competitor missing from the conference. Never mind. He will show, he was sure of it. Heihachi skimmed over the fighters once again before beginning:

“So you are all the ‘lucky’ few who will be participating in my tournament. I use the word lucky ironically. Well, let me lay down what will happen. As I have previously stated, there are no rules. The fights will take place in different locations over the course of the tournament, with all the first round matches taking place here in Tokyo, at the Sumo Hall.

You will, be matched up by a computer randomly generating names. You will be informed as to who you are facing.” He stared at each competitor in turn.

“You will notice that not all the competitors are human. You see the Jack robot powered off over there: he is the ultimate fighting machine developed here at the Zaibatsu. This is only one example of what you face in the King of the Iron Fist. I do not doubt that there will be death. There will be crippling injury.” He paused as he let the ominous statement wash over the competitors. “I would wish you luck, but some of you will have to face me. That will be the end of you. Because you see: your attempt of entering this tournament: it will end in disappointment, it will end in fai-“ a deep voice sliced through the speech

“Stop your pointless ramblings, you old quack.”

Heihachi was cut off mid sentence by none other than his son: standing there in a white shirt to accompany his white karate pants, standing just below the podium, as if he had appeared out of thin air. Kazuya tried to control his anger as he stared at his bastard father, knowing that he was here for a reason. He forcefully quenched the burning rage inside him before beginning to speak; Kazuya never took his eyes off of Heihachi as he spoke.

“I did not enter this tournament to see you ramble on with your lies, your nonsense and your false predictions. I came here to fight!” A murmur of assent had festered among the fighters, who were also all too sick of the conferences and speeches. “I am barely holding restraint right now. So name my first opponent before I go up there and rip your head clean off your shoulders!”

With these words, Kazuya began to step up to the stage, only for the various Zaibatsu security forces to hold him back. Heihachi, nonplussed by the threat, began to stroke his moustache. He had already planned for this moment. “You see, I have already handpicked your opponent, boy and you will be lucky to last even a few minutes against it. In the first round, Kazuya, you will be facing the Jack robot”

As if on command, the robot rose and its eyes glowed a bright red as it stood to its feet. Kazuya observed as the robot shuffled forwards. Nearly 6 and a half feet, it stood, with its barrel chest made of steel and the weapons no doubt hidden in various points. It stopped suddenly, as Heihachi had chortled in glee. “Boy, this is the ultimate killing machine. A weak fighter like you will not overcome this.”

Kazuya had nearly leapt on the stage when he heard the word ‘weak’ that his father frequently used, but he still managed to remain calm. “So be it. It will take an army of these machines to beat me regardless.” Kazuya would turn to leave, before someone caught his eye among the fighters. Kazuya glanced at Paul Phoenix, the fighter that had eluded him on his travels. He had heard many stories of the strength and powerful fists of Phoenix, but had not encountered them. There’s another opportunity in this tournament.

Kazuya walked into the huge crowd of reporters yelling questions at him, barrelling his way through the massive congregation. Heihachi only watched his son go, well aware that Kazuya was the only one who could cause a threat to him in this tournament.


Chapter 6

Ry?goku Kokugikan Sumo Hall, Tokyo.

The Sumo Hall was packed to the brink with people. Paul Phoenix couldn’t help but notice that security were actually forced to remove people from the building, as some were being escorted to the back exit via backstage where the fighters were residing. The Sumo Hall was set up in an open area environment, with only steel railing separating the crowd from the fighting space. There was no ring, cage or mat, just an open area.

This gave all the fighters freedom to do what they want. Paul was paying no heed to any of this, as he was glued to the TV screen where Marshall Law was preparing for his first round fight. Being the first fight, many of the other fighters, if not all, were watching the fight. As far as Paul knew, Marshall was fighting a sumo champion called Ganryu.

Ganryu had obtained a large amount of money over the last few years, from dubious circumstances, such as theft from banks and also from illegal arms dealings, but due to being under the Mishima Zaibatsu employment; he had got off no charges, scot free. Marshall, who’d, grew up in a poor family and suffered financial trouble, similar to Paul, took exception to this. The reason both men entered was for the prize money, but while Paul had no real family connections, Marshall had a wife and young infant son. Paul knew Marshall would do whatever it would take to support his family. Paul watched as the large man stepped in the arena, doing his signature sumo pose. Marshall had began bouncing on his feet, sizing up his much larger opponent.

Marshall had that blank, calm expression on his face and Paul was well aware that meant business. Ganryu had charged at Marshall, but despite his surprising speed, Marshall was much faster. He quickly moved out of the way and strongly kicked the large man in the back . While Ganryu attempted to turn around, he was hit with quick kicks to his fat legs.

 “You’re finished” exclaimed Paul, gripping the TV screen. However, as Marshall would attempt a kick to the head, the sumo would throw out a palm that hit Law straight in the chest. As Law stumbled backwards, Ganryu rushed forward, attempting to once again tackle Marshall. However, Marshall was once again to fast.

He jumped at the sumo, his leg extended for a flying kick that hit Ganryu straight in the jaw. Before he could even hit the ground, Marshall was on him, raining down a flurry of punches to the face. “Now, you’re finished” yelled Paul, his fist slamming against the wall with excitement. Sure enough, once Law stopped beating on the sumo, he got up and threw a few flashy kicks to the roaring crowd. He then pointed at him and Paul saw his lips moving, but could not pick up what he had uttered to him.

As Marshall left the arena, Paul made sure to greet his friend backstage. Marshall looked pretty proud of himself and up close, Paul could see he barely had a scratch. Marshall reciprocated the high five Paul had held up. “He wasn’t up to much. He was slow and too predictable, an easy first opponent.” Marshall would state to Paul. “I made sure that fat bastard will not steal anymore.”

 “He was a sumo champion, man.” Paul responded. “I mean, I would’ve KO’D him quicker, but still, good job.” Paul scratched his short blond stubble.  Marshall flopped on one of the plastic chairs opposite the TV, and wiped a towel one of the backstage personnel gave to him over his face and asked “Any idea who your first opponent is?” Paul scratched his head “No. I’ll find out when I get out there, I suppose. I’d say it’ll just be another jabroni.” “The Kazuya Mishima fight’s going to be on before yours, I think.” Marshall pointed out. “You might want to start studying.” Paul snorted at that. “I’m the best. I don’t need to study. he stated more to himself than Marshall. But, he knew Marshall was right. What made a guy like Kazuya one of the top fighters? You never know what to expect.


“Stay DOWN, you old fart.” Heihachi hollered, as he hit the old monk in front of him once again with a strong punch to the sternum. But still, Wang got to his feet. Wang, his opponent, was nearly eighty years old, the wrinkles and long white flowing hair showing his age. He used to work for his father, back in the day when he ran the Zaibatsu. Back when it was a worthless company.

He didn’t show his age in his movement and fighting though, and Heihachi had expected to knock the old buffoon out quicker. “Hwaa” he yelled, as he delivered a roundhouse to the back of the old mans head. This time, he did stay down. Heihachi returned to his fighting pose, one arm holding the bicep of the other as it faced up, soaking up the crowd’s scorn towards him. He let out a grunt. That was too easy. He headed to the backstage area, proud with the quick fashion that fight ended. What was that- three minutes?

Faster than the Ganryu-Law fight, he was certain of that. As he walked through the hallway, with the cameras flashing, he headed to the locker room he had made certain to get for himself. His mind had moved to another matter- how the Jack robot will perform. Heihachi wasn’t stupid- he knew how skilled a fighter Kazuya had become. But, he wanted to watch this fight closely.

The Jack robot may not win, but he might batter Kazuya and soften him up. Heihachi swung the door open and sat on the bench closest to him, drinking a bottle of water. Heihachi of all people knew how unpredictable the boy could be. Heihachi still strongly believed he could beat the boy on his best day, hands down. He still needed to prepare.





Chapter 7


Kazuya was pacing in the backstage area. He had not watched the previous fights, he was too busy preparing himself. He knew that he and Heihachi would meet in the finals of this tournament. It was inevitable. He meticulously put his red studded gloves on, and tightened their straps. But the journey would be rocky. Most of the fighters in this tournament were formidable and skilled.

He barely nodded towards the stage hand telling him he was up and began to march, out the curtain. He had placed his mind in that familiar place, that place of only energy, focus and anger. Plenty of anger. Kazuya had reached the arena, where he was surprised by the reception. The chants of ‘Kazuya’ and the cheering and adulation.

Kazuya had heard people were rallying behind him, but didn’t expect anything like this. He stared at the Jack, who was already in the arena. It’s eyes were glowing, no doubt it’s microchip brain analysing the surroundings and Kazuya himself.

Kazuya was doing his own analysing, looking for openings, any weaknesses in the think, dense alloy armour. Kazuya shook his head. Let’s destroy this piece of metal. He charged towards the robot, yelling out with fury. His fist connected with the hard iron, and cracked it. The vigorous training over the years had toughened up his body, most especially his fists. Iron was not the hardest surface he had punched. The Jack robot swiped its fist, but Kazuya quickly dodged. He kicked the robot in its midsection and forced it back slightly. However, Jacks fist had detached slightly and launched itself into the chest of Kazuya, propelling him back several feet.

He had planted one foot into the cold floor, slowing him down dramatically. After bouncing back to his feet, he had noticed something unveiling itself from the Jacks arm, from a pocket. He felt the dull clank-clank of bullets hitting the floor on front of him. He had leapt out of the way, his well honed instincts taking over. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another weapon come out of the other arm, and a rocket shooting towards him, whistling in the air. He tumbled out of the way, and heard the rocket explode in the distance behind him somewhere. He slid across the floor quickly, seeing an opportunity while the Jack was temporarily out of ammunition. He landed behind the Jack, who, clunky and mechanic, attempted to turn around. Kazuya grabbed both the guns, and pulling with considerable effort, ripped them off. He then began battering the robot, with the weapons.

He speedily ducked as the robots massive metal head came flying towards him, and spotted something, Wires in the neck area. He tugged at the wires, and rained punches down on the neck. The robot was beginning to get slower, and clumsier, Kazuya knew he was getting somewhere. He found another set of wires in an area below the chest, where a piece of armour had been knocked off; he delivered powerful kicks to the wires, relentlessly targeting both areas. Never been a better time to use the Mishima shock. he thought fleetingly.

He then began to ‘charge’ the electricity inside him. He felt his body crackle. He pushed the electricity to his fists and feet, and hit the machine even harder. He felt the robot shaking, and convulsing. It collapsed to its knees as Kazuya stepped back. Its eyes blinked out, the glow gone. The crowd was unleashed as the chants of ‘KAZUYA. KAZUYA. KAZUYA.’ grew louder. He stared at the machine and decided to send a clear message to his father. He grabbed the robots head and with all his might, pulled its head off, wires hanging out the neck. He held the head up high, letting the crowd cheering wash over him. One step closer he thought, before raising his other hand as the crowd only got louder.


Chapter 8


Paul had seen it, but he should’ve reacted quicker. The paw came flying towards his face and scratched him in the cheek, as he grimaced. Kuma growled at him, preparing another swipe, but Paul would catch him in the stomach, giving him time to recover. As Kuma grunted, Paul briefly wondered how he ended up fighting Heihachi Mishimas personal bear. That’s right, he had found out moments before the fight that his first round opponent was going to be a wild and dangerous animal. He recalled the stage hand telling him and his subsequent reaction. “The Hell?!?” he had shouted. “I’m fightin’ a frickin’ bear?” “Not just any bear.” Marshall had piped in. “Heihachi Mishimas pet bear.” Paul scowled at the grinning Marshall, before responding: “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve fought the toughest guys in the world, I can beat a bear.” “But what about an intelligent bear that knows karate?” Marshall once again interrupted.


So that’s how Paul Phoenix ended up hitting a bear. As he hit Kuma once again in the stomach, a shot that would double over a normal man, the bear roared in pain, and jumped on Paul. Paul landed on the ground with an ‘oomph’ and as Kuma went to bite the exposed neck of Phoenix, he hit the bear in the face and pushed him off. As he hopped to his feet, Kuma was on all fours, and had grabbed a hold of Phoenix legs and once again dragged him to the floor with a hard ‘thud’. He gave the bear a hard kick in the face, releasing its grip and momentarily staggering it. Paul had quickly realised that Kuma was tougher than a normal bear and was soon attempting to conceive a way to take him out. Blood was now freely running from the gash in his cheek, and he took a breath as he listened to the ctowd cheering his name.

As he absorbed it all, Kuma had still made no attempt to attack him. Paul looked over and noticed the bear was panting heavily, and saw the opening he had to finish the fight. Need to work on your cardio Paul thought, and he rushed at the bear and unleashed a flurry of quick, furious punches that only he could pull off. With a loud yell, he hit Kuma with a Hammer Fist, using the side of his fist, on the back of Kumas head. The bear slumped to the ground, clearly out cold.

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Paul threw his fist in the air, enjoying the moment. “I beat a goddamn bear!” he yelled, as the fans in the Sumo Hall their clear appreciation for the fighter, with the chants of ‘PHOENIX ROCKS! PHOENIX ROCKS!’ reverberating around the stadium.



Chapter 9


Kazuya stuffed his trousers in the rucksack, before zipping it closed. He sat on the floor of the hotel room, where he was packing away the stuff he had. To tell the truth, he had not taken much, just his fighting gear, a spare set of clothes, a toothbrush and a few photographs, he had not needed much else. As he prepared to put away the photographs, he found himself looking deep into one. It was one of him as a young child, maybe around four, with his mother standing beside him and his grandfather, who had his arms around the boy. All were wearing fighting gear and all with huge smiles on them. A rarity in recent days, Kazuya smiled a genuine smile. His real family, once upon a time. There was a noticeable tear on the right of the photo, where his father also stood.

He had just watched the Phoenix/Kuma fight, and was impressed. Of course, he had watched dozens of Phoenix fights, but he wanted to see how he dealt with the bear. Surprisingly efficient. He knew very well that Phoenix wanted to fight him, he saw it in his eyes at that press conference. And, to be frankly honest, Kazuya wanted to fight him too. Both had been claimed as the best fighters in the world since his father had been out of the game so long, and Kazuya also had made a secondary goal to beat Phoenix en route to Heihachi. Just to prove to the world he was the best.

While he pondered all this, he felt the hotel door unlock and open. He felt the vibrations of shoes hitting the carpet below and jumped to his feet quickly, stomping one foot on the ground. Who he saw before him surprised him. “Calm down, brother.” said Lee Chaolan, his hands raised. “I did not come here to fight you, believe it or not. I came to discuss something.”

He was wearing his signature dress trousers and purple waistcoat, only he had a suit jacket to accompany it, making him look more formal and business like. A single rose sat in the jacket pocket. Kazuya did not relax or leave his fighting stance. “You think I am stupid?” he shot at his adoptive brother. “Heihachi sent you here. To spy on me or some other act, I don’t know, but you better leave before I beat you senseless!” Lee, always been the calmer of the two, (which is not saying much for a Mishima.), again raised his hands and stated: “This has nothing to do with him. I came of my own accord, to offer a preposition to you.”

Kazuya left his fighting stance slowly and relaxed slightly. Crossing his arms and glaring at Lee, he ordered: “Speak. And make it quick.” Lee, who cleared his throat initially, before beginning what Kazuya knew, would be a long and not so quick speech. “Heihachi is not happy with you. It cost millions of yen to develop that Jack robot and that was one of the few currently in existence. But, he suspects nothing of me. You seemed to have the misconception that I actually cared for him. I know he only treated me with slightly more respect than you out of spite towards you. I have been planning a, how to put this elegantly, a coup d’état, for months now.  This tournament is the perfect opportunity.”

He paused momentarily, as Kazuya took this in. He quickly continued, in that extravagant manner of his. “But, I need help. The finest help. So, I decided I would come to you. There has been plenty of issues between us in the past, but I am willing to bury the hatchet if you are. What I propose is this: We are in different brackets, which means we could meet in the finals. But, when it occurs, we can fight- and settle all grudges, of course- but whoever the winner is, we share control with the other. We both takeover the Zaibatsu as CEOs, and you can get your fight with Heihachi you crave so badly.”

He smirked and ran a hand through his silver hair. “Not a bad plan at all, agreed?” Kazuya had said nothing throughout the elaboration, and was disgusted by the suggestion of an underhanded plot.

 “That is ridiculous!” he spat. “There can only be one King of the Iron Fist, and only one can take control of the company! I’ll not join you for your schemes, Lee. Get Lost!” He tried to control his temper, as he felt the anger bubbling beneath him.

Lees expression changed from a friendly smile to a look of irritation in an instant. “Have it your way.” Lee retorted. “It was a suggestion, but it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m winning the tournament, with you or without!” They stared at each other, moments passing seeming like an eternity. Kazuya was certain the tense situation would sour even more, but Lee swivelled around and headed out the door.

“We might meet in the tournament, Kazuya. I’ll see you then.” Kazuya watched him stroll out, and as soon as he was gone, turned around and hit the nearest wall, leaving a huge hole into the neighbouring room. That slimy rat. He breathed deeply and calmed himself, before returning to his packing. “The day I trust Lee Chaolan is the day I lose all intelligence.” he muttered.


Chapter 10

Outside a Shinto Shrine, Kyoto

Heihachi stared at the man in front of him. Well, Heihachi wouldn’t call him a ‘man’- he used to be, anyway. The skeleton warrior was spinning his swords around, wearing ancient samurai robes concealing the rest of his body, as his sword radiated a light green colour. Heihachi had heard all about Yoshimitsu:

‘The modern day Robin Hood’, they called the skeleton, as him and his gang, the Manji Clan, would frequently steal from the rich and give to the poor. Heihachi would grimly smile- Try and steal from me, bone man.

“C’mon then.” He barked at the warrior. Yoshimitsu would rush forward quickly, holding his sword up high. Heihachi swiftly dodged, and delivered a spinning kick that caught the Yoshimitsu off guard. He attempted to to hit a straight left, but the skeleton dodged, and he stabbed with his sword.

Heihachi grabbed the sword by the blade and held it tight as he laughed. “That glow stick won’t hurt me.” Heihachi yanked the sword and tossed it away, before being met with a kick from the warrior, and he quickly would flip over Heihachis head as Heihachi threw a round kick.  Heihachi turned around, fast as sound and threw another uppercut, but he found that Yoshimitsu was too athletic, leaping to the side and hitting a kick to the chest. Heihachi soon figured out a pattern, and feigned a jab.

As Yoshimitsu dived in the air, Heihachi quickly grabbed him and thrust him down, his head and back hitting the hard ground beneath him. Heihachi would leap on him, grabbing his leg and lifting him, before slamming him down once again. Heihachi then quickly uppercutted the skeleton as he attempted to stand, before delivering ruthless kicks that ultimately left the warrior out comatose.

Heihachi would then stomp on the ground, letting the electricity run through his body. “Waste of my time” he stormed in that characteristically gruff voice, and he walked off, completely unscathed from the battle. He headed towards the Shrine, allow himself to meditate and refocus.

He had chosen an outside area in Kyoto for the second round to change it up for the fighters, they would easily get comfortable in an arena environment. The other three fights would definitely look to be more competitive than his fight.

“No way that sack of bones stood a chance against me!” he exclaimed to himself, as he entered the large doors of the shrine, the characteristic white sliding door sliding across smoothly. The shrine was full of Zaibatsu security, in the generic black suits, glasses and earpieces.  

He walked through another sliding door, leading to a quieter room with no one there but himself. He sat crossed legged in the centre of the room and closed his eyes, blocking out the exterior noise in the surrounding rooms, the talking and the sounds of fighters sparring with each other, the yells and the thuds of skin meeting skin.

He focused on his breathing and let the energy run through his body, the power flow through his muscles. He find his mind once again wander to his youth, when he first took over the Zaibatsu. Some twenty years ago now, he had it all. His beautiful loving wife, wealth of a dozen nations, a powerful company, a happy life.

Then, Kazuya came along. He never liked the boy, as soon as he was born. Kazuya was weak, and soft. He couldn’t have a pathetic little child like that as an heir to the Mishima fortune. He had to dispose of him or, at least, strengthen him. Throwing him off the cliff was for his own good. Little did he know that Kazuya would come back as the venge- “Father? Did you want me?”

Heihachi opened his eyes, to see his other ‘son’, Lee Chaolan, at the doorway. “Come in, Lee. How are you preparing for the next fight?” “I was training at the gym, when I heard you wanted me. I’m ready for it.” Sure enough, Heihachi noticed he was sweating freely, wearing a purple vest and training shorts.

“I hope you are ready. Marshall Law is a very skilled fighter, he will be one of your toughest opponents.” Lee, who already seemed tense and annoyed, eyes hardened even more at this statement. “I know. I’ve trained and sparred with him before; I know how capable he is.” Heihachi stayed silent for a moment, closing his eyes again before reopening them.

“Keep your nose clean, Lee. Don’t get too ambitious, for your own sake.” He closed his eyes, and without another look at his adopted son, uttered a command “Now go. I’m training.”

He waited momentarily, before he heard the sound of Chaolans’ feet slowly get quieter and quieter. You can’t fool me, you little dunce. You’re up to something. Still, he had bigger problems then Lee to deal with. The one obstacle to ultimate success and glory is Kazuya- and he would eliminate him convincingly this time.


Chapter 11


Paul paced back and forth in the small room in the Shrine, still full of frenzied energy. “The semi-finals, Marshall. I’m through! And you know what that means, you know what my next fight is gonna be..” He slammed his fist against the palm of his other hand, beaming widely.

“Calm down.” insisted Marshall. “The fight’s over. I wasn’t expecting the fight to be over that fast, to be honest.” “Yeah, well” Paul began. “I wasn’t wasting time with that jabroni.” Paul recalled his second round fight, against a wrestler called King. He wore a tiger mask, and blue tights, similar to another wrestler in Japan, Paul wasn’t sure. He was never a big wrestling fan. He knew how tough King was when he got up close and personal, he was a wrestler, he specialised in grappling. 

So Paul had walked into the fight and hit the Burning Fist within seconds, knocking King out indefinitely. The Burning Fist was a special of Phoenix’s, some called it one of the most powerful punches that ever existed. Paul had actually accidentally killed men by hitting this move. It was a power Paul had developed soon into his fighting career, the name of the move described it quite accurately.

Pauls fist would ‘burn’ as he focused his energy into his fist and he would hit his opponent with it, as the pure power and force of it would instantly send the opponent flying, unconscious. It was the weapon Paul Phoenix would use to defeat Kazuya Mishima. “I finally get to face Kazuya, Marshall. All he has to do is beat Armor King and then it’ happening!” Marshall grabbed Paul’s shoulder. “God’s sake, stop pacing! You’re actually making me nervous. Yeah, you get Kazuya if he beats Armor King. Let’s get something to eat before training, I haven’t eaten all day.”

Paul would clap his hands and rub them together excitedly. “Food can wait. We both have big matches, we need to be in top condition! You think there’s a gym near here or should we just stay here?” As Paul rushed out the door, Law sighed. “I could really do with some rice...”



Chapter 12


Kazuya hit the ground with a hard thud. Armor King raised his arms and yelled, flexing his muscles. Kazuya had underestimated the wrestler, seeing how quickly Phoenix dealt with the other one. He didn’t take into account how much stronger this wrestler is, how quick and powerful. With his silver mask, he was 6 foot 5 black man, he was a hugely muscular black man wearing thick steel armour, with spikes on each shoulder. He used to be Kings archrival, though they recently decided to team up shortly before the tournament, for whatever reason Kazuya really didn’t care. All he cared about was that this brute had taken him by surprise and had momentarily taken control. Kazuya knew full well how to deal with wrestlers-keep your distance and strike. As Kazuya kipped to his feet, Armor King lunged at him, and Kazuya quickly moved. He quickly kicked at his legs, before hitting him with a huge cross to the chest. As Armor King stumbled back, Kazuya quickly advanced, jumping and hitting a flying side kick to his chest. He then stood back, electricity crackling around hus body. How about this, Phoenix he thought maliciously. Kazuya yelled, as he thrust his fist back as electricity crackled though it and he uppercutted Armor King. Armor King went flying up in the air, and crashed to the ground with a thump, convulsing on the ground. Kazuya stared at his motionless body and raised his fist in the air. The Electric Wind Godfist. His most powerful move, it involved charging all the electrical currents in his body and focused it all into fist, before uppercutting the body. It usually eneded iwth his opponents bady electrocuted and unconscious, and it was his most powerful strike for his most powerful opponents. He didn’t need to use it on Armor King, he only did it to send a clear message to Paul Phoenix Anything you can do, I can do better. As Kazuya marched out of the courtyard into the Shrine, he walked through the open door and contemplated the fights ahead of him. Paul Phoenix in the semi-finals, the I finally get my hands on that bastard Heihachi  Kazuya was well aware that Phoenix is the best fighter in America. There’s a reason he has been compared so frequently to Chuck Norris, his freakish speed, power and most of all strength would prove to be Kazuyas biggest obstacle yet. But, I am better. And I’m not losing, so close to getting my hands on Heihachi. As he was pacing through all the rooms in the Shrine, oblivious to his surroundings, he found himself in the training room some of the fighters had set up. He observed two men busting their asses, Marshall Law was hanging from a pull up bar, doing hanging leg raises effortlessly. Kazuya had barely noticed this, however, as his eyes were fixated on the man doing pushups with a 50 kg weight on his back, busting them out one after the other without showing a hint of tiring. As Paul Phoenix looked up, both mens eyes meeting. He hopped to his feet immediately, the plate falling to the ground with a thud.  “You wanna workout or something?” asserted Paul. “You need to do everything you can if you even want to dream of beating me. “ Kazuya’s English was limited to phrase or two, so he decided to just try speak Japanese regardless. “I don’t care how good they say, or you say, you are. I will beat you!” Paul Phoenix scratched his massive flattop hair. “Erm, what? I don’t speak Japanese. It doesn’t matter. I’m the best!” Kazuya again understand little of that confusing language and responded in his native tongue: “ I don’t know, or don’t care what you’re saying. Our fists will do the talking! No one will stop me winning the King of the Iron Fist Tournament.” The two glared at each other for a few moments longer, before Kazuya slowly walked out the door. He heard the two talk in the gym, and thought to himself Your boasting will only get you so far, Phoenix. Talking tough will not do much against a fist or a kick.



Chapter 13


Kazuya sat in the room he had taken for himself in the Shrine, arms crossed. Conveniently, windows had been set up in every room, so in the back wall of the room is where Kazuyas piercing eyes lay, out the window that overlooked the massive courtyard that the fight took place in, awaiting the final second round fight between Marshall Law and Lee Chaolan.

Blocking out the noise of the Zaibatsu execs and security going about their business in the room, Kazuya honestly didn’t care who won this match. He would personally like to Marshall Law to lay a beating on to that little worm Chaolan, but at the end of the day, it would not make any difference to Kazuya. The winner of this match would face Heihachi in the semi-finals. Kazuya knew they wouldn’t make it past there.

But still, Kazuya enjoyed watching a good fight from a spectator point of view. He had taken valuable time away from the gym, which was clear as his white vest and blue shorts were covered in shorts. Plus, he couldn’t stand being in there with Phoenix without doing something he’d regret, as he’d just entered while Kazuya was finishing up. Kazuya furrowed his thick eyebrows as both competitors entered the courtyard, he knew Phoenix would watch his buddy in the fight.


Paul Phoenix grunted as he lifted the massive 30 kilo dumbbells in each arm, finishing a set of bicep curls. He dropped the weights on the carpet of the gym, and staring out the window, threw a few punching combinations to keep himself busy as the fighters prepared. When he visited the States, it took Paul a while to warm to Lee. He was extravagant and flamboyant, or ‘weirdo’, as Paul had eloquently put it himself. He was a show-off too, which irritated Paul especially when they went out to bars and clubs, as the spotlight was away from him and he couldn’t tell all his great fight stories. But, as Marshall acting the middle man, he had grown to like him somewhat. Lee always got along better with Marshall, as Paul found that both his and Lees confident and loud personalities clashed often. Despite all this, he was still rooting for Marshall.

Marshall was his best friend, and Paul knew damn well that he needed the money far more than Lee Chaolan. Paul watched as both men faced off and opened the window in order to get a better hearing as to what was going on. Lee nodded to Marshall, who hesitantly returned the favour, before throwing a lightning fast kick. Chaolan was just that much quicker, evading the strike and hitting Marshall with a jab.

Lee then followed it up with a series of lightning fast kicks. Paul thought he called them ‘Machine Gun Kicks’ , but only connected with a couple, before Marshall would parry his leg and hit a huge punch to the stomach. Lee stumbled back, Paul knew it was a hard punch. “Follow up” Paul nearly bellowed out the window. Sure enough, he saw Marshall fly through the air with a cry, his leg extended for a side kick. Paul banged the window sill excitedly.


Kazuya pointedly looked, arms still folded, as Law hit Lee with a huge sidekick. Lee hit the ground with a thud, but quickly did a back roll and was on his feet, cat like. Kazuya likened Chaolan to a rat: Quick, irritating and won’t go away. Law was finding it out firsthand. Kazuya was aware they knew each other from America, but Kazuya could’ve told by now they knew each other men.

The fast counters and blocks meant they knew each other’s moves almost by heart, which made it a very evenly matched fight. Kazuya’s rhought process proved to be true, when Marshall tried to hit his Fist of Fury, Lee had instantly blocked and kicked the fist out of the way and before he could hit his patented Back flip kick, Marshall had caught Lee with a quick kick mid flip, sending him stumbling as he just about landed on his feet. Then, the tide of the fight turned drastically. Kazuya could see it unfold slowly somehow, he could not explain it, even though both men were among the fastest fighters alive. Marshall had attempted an axe kick, but Lee, by nook or cranny, managed to kick faster, with a huge roundhouse to the chest before Marshall could land his axe kick. Marshall hit the ground with a thud, banging his head off the ground and Lee pounced like a hyena on an injured gazelle, raining punch and kick on to his fallen foe, until he was certain Marshall was defeated. Smirking as he got to his feet, Lee had remarked “Next time, Marshall, you should fight with more class.” He followed with a cartwheel, in typical Lee Chaolan fashion, before exiting the yard. Kazuya had barely moved an inch, his arms folded as he observed the celebration. The semi-finals of the Tournament were set; Heihachi vs. Lee Chaolan, and Kazuya vs. Paul Phoenix.



Chapter 14


“You got to push it to the limit!” explained Marshall to Paul. “If you can’t push yourself beyond your breaking point in training, than how do you expect to push yourself to beat a guy like Kazuya Mishima? Endurance, you need top level endurance and toughness as well as your fighting ability and skills.”

Paul, who was doing 200 push ups on the hard floor of the gym, to warm up, claimed: “ Well, I already have endurance and toughness. Listen, Marshall, are you sure you’re up to training with me? I mean, you really took a bea-“ Marshall, who sported a black eye, and bruises and red spots on his chest and face, cut him off calmly.

 “ Paul, you should know of all people not to patronise me. I’ve been beaten up before, I can shake off a few bruises and cuts. Now, are you done your push ups yet? It’s time to bring out the planks.” And bring out the planks they did. A set of wooden planks of various thickness, Marshall put five thick planks together, and Paul boxed through it effortlessly. Then ten. And fifteen. And twenty.

The training soon brought to cinderblocks, which again Paul punched through without any problem. Paul Phoenix would punch through a titanium plate if he had to, he was the strongest puncher in the world. No excuses. He was in the best shape of his life going into this fight, cutting his weight to 79 kg of pure muscle and barely a dent on him from the last two fights. Well, he had a few scratches from that goddamn bear Kuma, but they healed pretty quickly. He was twenty seven, the same age as Kazuya, the prime of his life. He had run on the treadmill for six hours the day before, only then did he get tired. Paul Phoenix is the toughest damn man on this planet, and he sure as hell was going to prove he was tougher, badder and generally better than Kazuya Mishima.


Kazuya let out a yell, as he span around performing his deadly spin kick, propelling the bag backwards. He followed it up with a side kick, a roundhouse kick and strong punch in quick succession. Kazuya had gone back to his small house, as he had not heard where the semi-finals would be taking place.

He relished the time alone, to train, to prepare for what would be the first in a series of tough battles. He was losing two inches to Paul Phoenix in the fight, he being 5 ft 11, and also over 3 kilos. Still, at 76kg of pure muscle and little fat, Kazuya was feeling great. He was not a man for weights; he used a bench press occasionally, but preferred more traditional methods of body weight exercises, as most Japanese fighters.

He had a pull up bar on the doorway to his workout area, it was his most valuable non-combat too, of training. Still, he mostly relied on combat to train, practicing moves combinations, until they flowed properly, until they were perfect. They had to be perfect, against opponents such as Phoenix and Heihachi, anything less would mean defeat.

He hit a huge kick to the back, sending another one off its hinges and flying into the opposite wall. Kazuya decided he couldn’t waste time fiddling with another bag, so he decided to hit the wall instead.

His wall was not plaster but concrete, yet with little protection bar his red studded gloves, he cracked the wall with his fists. And his bare feet. It wasn’t long until he got caught up in emotions, and lost in his imagination, with the wall becoming looming figure of Heihachi in his minds eye.

Leaving his wall with a variety of holes in various locations, he stopped suddenly. He had done enough. He walked out of his gym, with a certainty in his thoughts that he had never experienced before. Kazuya was ready.


As Heihachi sat in his massive headquarters in the Mishima Zaibatsu, at his desk in his black leather chair, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to the Phoenix-Kazuya fight. Of course, neither were better than him. That went without saying. No one can defeat someone as great as Heihachi Mishima.

As he span around in the chair and looked out the window to the vast concrete jungle of Tokyo beneath, he tried to predict the outcome. Kazuya would win, certainly, but it won’t be easy on the little urchin. He’ll have to win, as Heihachi wants to end the boys pitiful life with his own hands. He couldn’t allow that pleasure to go to another.

As he felt warm fur underneath his fingers and glanced at Kuma sitting down beside him, he reflected on where he had chosen for the semi- final fights. He grinned malevolently.  The Kanto Plain. An unforgiving wasteland that spread across almost half of the Kanto region, that was often hit by volcano eruptions. Where they would be located in the vast plain, not even Heihachi knew.

He would decide on the day, throw the fighters off even more.  I’d like to see the other three fools stay hydrated. Heihachi also wasn’t sweating Lee Chaolan in the slightest, he was fast and athletic, but he was flashy, too flashy. I will eat that little fruitcake up. Heihachi lay back in his chair, his smile growing larger and larger. At the conclusion of this tournament, all his problems would be permanently solved.


Chapter 15

Gunma Prefecture, Kanto Plain, Honshu Region


As they stood on the sandy ground, Kazuya stared at his adversary as he stood opposite, metres away. There was hardly anyone in the vicinity, bar a few cameramen, Marshall Law, a couple of Zaibatsu security and Heihachi, who was sitting in a throne some distance away, no doubt observing the fight from afar. Paul felt a sweat run down his brow, it was warm today. He slowly wiped the sweat off his brow and continued to stare at Kazuya. Neither moved for a moment, waiting and preparing.

Suddenly, Paul rushed towards his opponent. Kazuya almost immediately followed suit, sprinting without hesitation. “Raghhhh” yelled Paul as he thrust his fist forward. But Kazuya had dropped to the floor, and slid between Pauls legs. As Paul swung around, he met a fist in his face. Kazuya kept up the brief onslaught, as he rained punches down on Pauls face and kneed the stomach powerfully.

Kazuya decided to attempt a straight kick, but Paul had caught the foot. Paul nailed Kazuya in the chest with a huge hammer fist, and as Kazuya hit the ground hard, he already observed Pauls foot coming down towards his face. Kazuya rolled out of the way quickly and exhaled slowly.

But, the kick connected this time, and Kazuya felt a gush of blood in his ear. Not broken, but bloodied nonetheless. He hit a side kick while still on the floor, and kipped up to his feet. Both men momentarily stared at each other, already both were bleeding from the face. Kazuya grinned morbidly at Phoenix. This battle will be a challenge. Paul, on the other hand, grimaced. He knew it would be difficult, but now he was sure this would be a long fight. Kazuya then flew towards his opponent, and was spinning rapidly, like an out of control helicopter blade.

Paul was soon tripped u by the spinning kick, but as Kazuya leaped on his opponent, Paul had already rolled out of the way. He hit a killer uppercut, which sent Kazuya upwards and then downwards as he once again met with the floor. Paul thought that could at least slow down the Mishima, but no, he got up and brushed it off. He ducked another punch and another hook, weaving like Muhammad Ali, and with a yell, hit a round kick, a side kick, a front kick and his tsunami kick, in quick succession.

Kazuya stood over Paul, expecting to have injured something. But no. Phoenix hopped to his feet, and Kazuya hit two quick jabs and before he could hit the final flash punch, Paul had blocked and threw the hand away, before grabbing Kazuya by the arm and throwing him to the ground, and crossing him hard in the throat as soon as he hit the ground. He grabbed Kazuya and attempted to heave him on his shoulders, but Kazuya had slipped off the shoulders, and hit the aggressive Hell Lancer, a specialised side kick, to the back of Paul.

Phoenix stumbled, and fell face first on the ground. Kazuya grabbed the gi of Phoenix and dragged him to his feet, before hitting a back fist and a huge electrically charged fist, the Sokushitsu Goda, as he called it. The electricity flowed through him momentarily, before Kazuya walked over to the seemingly limp body of Paul Phoenix. But Phoenix collided with Kazuya, bringing him to the ground, his body burning, the red aura surrounding him. He mounted Kazuya and targeted the ribs, punch after punch hit Kazuyas ribs and each one making a sickening clapping noise. Kazuya knew not even he could withstand these Phoenix blows to the ribs. He could feel his ribs starting to give, knowing they could break at any instant. He kicked Phoenix off him, and as he grabbed Phoenix’s arm, he heard Phoenix yell and Paul Phoenix then hit Kazuya with the deadly Burning Fist.

Kazuya was propelled backwards, and thumped to the floor, limp. Paul Phoenix fully stood to his feet, ignoring his aches and pains. Have I beaten him? But no. Kazuya stirred. He willed himself to his feet, pushing himself upwards and stood at full height. He felt the anger rise inside him and as Phoenix stood, still bewildered that Kazuya had got up, allowed the electricity to run through every inch of his body.

He bellowed, and with every drop of power inside, connected with the Electric Wind Godfist square on Phoenix’s jaw. Phoenix was thrust up in the air, and dropped back down like a bag of stones, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch. Kazuya stood, waiting. He could not be certain that victory was his, not with Paul Phoenix. Sure enough, he heard coughing and spluttering and Paul dragged himself to his feet, willing himself on. Kazuya took a moment, before rushing at the man once again.


Kazuya threw a fist carelessly, that Phoenix hastily dodged and hit a weakened punch to the stomach. The action had slowed considerably, as they had fought to a stalemate for- well, Kazuya wasn’t sure. Was it 2 hours? Maybe 3? Kazuya had lost all track of time. It had become a blur, almost a marathon of kicks and punches. Kazuya was fighting for pure pride and superiority, and he knew Phoenix was too.

Both men stumbled around, looking like they just left a bar, before Kazuya threw a high kick, which hit Paul in the throat. Phoenix gasped for air for a few seconds, before shaking his head and retaliating with a hook to the jaw. As Kazuyas head snapped back, he though about easy it could be... if he just let it takeover. He felt his eyes glow red, ready to turn, into that... thing. “NO!” Kazuya shouted, pushing the darkness down.

He would beat Paul Phoenix, Kazuya would. Not the demon. “I will not lose to you” he bellowed at Paul. Paul had screamed something back in English, but Kazuya had blocked it out. He gritted his teeth. One. More. Time. He charged the electricity in his body and charged forwards, nailing Phoenix with the Electric Wind Godfist once more. But, almost simultaneously, Kazuya felt a massive searing pain in his chest. Phoenix had hit the Burning Fist.


 Both men connected at the same time.



Chapter 16

Heihachi watched, enjoying immensely, as both men hit their special moves. However, when both men slumped to the ground and didn’t get up, he became confused. Then quickly angry as Marshall ran into the area to check on his friend. “WHAT A COUPLE OF IMBECILES!” he bellowed, as he leaped to his feet. “THEY KNOCKED EACH OTHER OUT, THE WEAKLINGS!” Everyone else froze momentarily, knowing that the foul mood of Heihachi could quickly turn deadly.

He stood at his throne for a moment, seething with frustration, eyes bulging. He then gestured at the security “Get them out of there and take them to a hospital. In fact, I don’t care where you take them, just get them out of my arena!” The security man nodded nervously and darted off. Heihachi stomped away, heading towards the jeep that had driven him out to the obscure location.

He flung the door of its hinge, throwing it in the dirt and got in the jeep. “Headquarters. Now.” He demanded the driver. The driver nodded and set off without delay. Heihachi was enraged. He couldn’t believe it; the boy had one thing to do. One thing! Beat Phoenix, then they could finally meet in the final. But no! Once again, he proves to be a massive disappointment and a weak failure. The whole Tournament is up in the air, Heihachi needed to find a way to solve this problem.


“The media is all over us” exclaimed the weedy man, Heihachi could not remember his name. He was standing at the helm of the table, with the Zaibatsu Board of Directors. Mostly, they were responsible for making simple administrative decisions- they didn’t have a drop of power compared to Heihachi. He held all the real cards.

“I agree completely, Kobayashi.” simpered another man, sitting opposite the weedy man. He was a lot stubbier and podgier, nearly fat in all honesty. Heihachi rubbed his brow in irritation- he couldn’t stand being around these puny politicians- people who think their words make them men, without any action. They disgusted Heihachi. “Perhaps, Mishima-san. “ smooched the fat one. “We call off the tournament?” Next thing the man found himself pinned against the way, Heihachi holding him by the throat. Heihachi tightened his vice like grip, causing him to turn slightly purple and gasp frequently.

“Are you asking to be beaten?” snarled Heihachi. “Call off the tournament? That is what a coward would do. All the resources I poured into this, the money and high stakes. I told the fighters what would happen, I told them the risks. The media can’t hold a thing against us. I will win this tournament and prove I’m unstoppable. The tournament will be seen through until the end!”

He released his grip, causing the man to drop to the floor, gasping and retching. Heihachi and turned to the window, observing the busy streets of Tokyo. An idea formed in his head. Maybe a simple reorganization is needed. Heihachi turned to the remaining board members, the worry and fear clear in their faces. “A rematch between Phoenix and Kazuya would be pointless- it would end in similar fashion. Instead, we swap the competitors in the semi-finals. Kazuya will now face Lee Chaolan and I will face Paul Phoenix. Get it done!”

Heihachi was satisfied with that solution. Kazuya would beat Lee; Lee was skilled but no match for Kazuya. And Phoenix... well, Phoenix would prove to be an issue, but Heihachi could easily handle him. Still, he didn’t want to exert himself too much going into the fight with Kazuya. He grinned, the pieces of another plan forming in his mind. He will finish Phoenix quickly, and effortlessly.


Chapter 17


Paul Phoenix lay in the hospital bed, sighing again. He’s done a lot of that over the last couple of days. He woke up in the hospital bed being told that he and Kazuya had knocked each other out, and was hit with a bout of depression. He had convinced himself he could beat Kazuya, he had what it takes. Yet, he had fought him to a mere draw.

An impressive feat against a fighter such as Kazuya, yes, but Paul was also undefeated. He had a blemish on his record now too. Now, he didn’t even know what was happening in the Tournament. He just lay in this hospital bed, barely able to move due to his various injuries, and watch the grainy TV in the corner.

Sometimes the nurse would come in, and Paul would try to tell tales of his feats of strength and his great victories- but she seemed more interested in ‘helping him get better.’ Internal bleeding and fractured bones? That’s nothing to Paul Phoenix. His reverie was interrupted by yelling outside his room. The voices were muffled, he strained to hear and eventually he could pick up what was being said.

“You can’t be serious? He had that fight of his life only a few days ago! He can’t do that!”” “Please, Mr Law, I don’t make the decisions. I just-“ “I don’t care what you do! He is not going to do that!” Paul assumed it was something serious- Marshall barely ever lost his calm composure, it was rare that he lost his temper. The door flew open, and Marshall marched in with a man in a suit.

Marshall, grumbling, started by saying “Listen, the Tournament will be going ahead. They’re just switching the brackets around. You’re facing Heihachi now, Kazuya will be facing Lee.” Phoenix wasn’t too concerned about that.

“That’s not too bad, Law. Sure, Heihachi is tough, but I can beat him. I have to beat him, after what happened.” Law inhaled deeply. “That’s not the bad part. You’re match with Heihachi is first and it will be tomorrow.” Silence descended in the room. Paul said nothing for a long time, absorbing this information. Rarely was Paul Phoenix left speechless. What could he possibly say to that? He finally proclaimed.

“I’ll do it.” Marshall’s face was etched with worry, but yet Paul saw no shock. “Listen, Paul, you’ve got nothing left to prove. You are one of the best. This is insanity, your health is more important than the money prize or even the glory. You can drop out of the tournament!” Paul sat up in his bed, wincing. “No way, Marshall. I ain’t dropping out. I didn’t come all this way to bow out, like a wuss. I just went to battle with a furious warrior a few days ago, I was nearly fighting for my life. If I could survive that, I can survive this. I can do this, Marshall. I can do the impossible. You know why? Because I’m Paul freakin’ Phoenix, that’s why. Broken bones, internal bleeding, torn ligaments, I don’t give a damn! I’ll beat Heihachi. You can’t stop me, Marshall. I’m doing this.”

Marshall still looked worried, but he responded “I know. You’re too goddamn proud, Paul. Just don’t get killed out there.” Paul swung his feet out of the bed, and stood to his feet unsteadily, grimacing in pain. “I need to train.”


Kazuya tried to move past the doctor. “I’ve stayed for a two days, like you insisted. Let me go now!” Kazuya had ripped the hospital gown off and put on his fighting gear again. He had tried to leave as soon as he woke up from the fight, but the doctor wasn’t having any of it. Kazuya was in a bad state: He had a few broken ribs, internal bleeding, and nasty bruises on his abdomen. Still, for two nights, he had used some ‘inside’ help to heal quickly over the last two nights, and was now healthy and full of energy.

The doctor shook his head in disbelief. “ I don’t believe how quickly you’ve healed. It would taken a normal man months to heal from these kinds of injuries, not days!” Kazuya responded. “I am no normal man, doctor. I can leave now?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, go ahead. “ As Kazuya rushed out his hospital room, he nearly ran head first into his adoptive brother. Lee Chaolan stood at the door, looking very smug indeed. “Why are you here” barked Kazuya. “ You want to gloat?”

Lee chortled, and responded “Well, I wouldn’t mind gloating too. But no, I came to deliver some news. The brackets have been changed. Heihachi will now face Phoenix in the semi finals, and I will be facing you next week. You may as well give up now, if you want. Save yourself the pain.”

Kazuya shot a withering look at Lee “Give up? Don’t flatter yourself. I’m happy I finally get the chance to beat you senseless, I thought the opportunity would never come.” Lee snorted. “Your empty threats do frighten me, but you won’t be so confident when I hand you your first loss. Once I rule the Zaibatsu, you will not disrespect me.”

Lee turned and began to walk out the door. “ Good luck, brother. I’m sure you will be in pristine condition for the fight.” Kazuya glared at his brother as he walked out the door.

The news had cheered up Kazuya: the draw with Phoenix had infuriated Kazuya over the last few days. He couldn’t believe Phoenix had pushed him that far. But, Phoenix can wait until after the tournament. Now, he gets the chance to batter that snotty, pompous little weasel into the ground on the road to Heihachi.

Though he despised Chaolan, he knew he couldn’t allow his demons to overcome him. He couldn’t take it too far; Lee is just a puppet, despite his visions of grandeur. He wouldn’t kill Lee. The only man that will die in the King of the Iron Fist Tournament is Heihachi. He began to stroll out the door. It was time to train twice as hard.


Chapter 18


Paul took a deep breath, and gripped the bar tightly. He pulled the bar upwards, and lifted off the ground by an inch. “Damn it!” he gasped, dropping the bar. He lifted himself back up slowly, grunting on the way up. “You done trying to break your spine?” queried Marshall.

Paul threw his gloves down in the floor in frustration. “I can usually dead lift 200 kg, this is bullshit!” Marshall rubbed his face, weary. “Doesn’t help your half dead, you fool. Just call the fight off. You can heal up, and come back another time, just as strong and fast as you were before.”

Paul hobbled over to Marshall. “I might call off training for the rest of the day. Go lie down, and get some rest before the fight. I’ll probably feel better.”


Paul didn’t feel better. Paul Phoenix had arrived at the fight scene, in the same sandy spot in the Kanto Valley. He still had severe internal bleeding, fractured shoulders and arms, and his face looked like an alternate art piece, coloured with different reds and purples. He stared across at his opponent, Heihachi Mishima.

He stood there with his arms folded, a malicious grin on his face, barely hidden by his black horseshoe moustache. He stood there unmoving, as Phoenix limped up. “So you want me injured, huh? Fine. Let’s go. If I was in full health, you would be on the floor by now. Let’s get this over with.”

Heihachi did not say a word as Phoenix stumbled opposite him, as the fight prepared to begin. He simply bored a hole through the American with anticipation in his hazel eyes. Paul attempted a run towards his opponent, but was at barely half pace, limping and yelping in pain.

As soon as he reached Heihachi, Heihachi hit him with a huge hook to the face, sending him sprawling to the ground. He scrambled to his feet, yelping in pain. There was a different atmosphere in the air for this compared to the other fights. People knew they were not watching a competitive fight, they were watching a man being dismantled.

Still, Phoenix threw a punch and it connected in Heihachis jaw. Heihachi flashed a look of surprise- he honestly did not expect any offense, but that was a powerful punch. Time to stop playing games. Heihachi hit a huge side kick and an uppercut. Paul once again collapsed to the ground, yelling in agony. Heihachi still was silent, as he beat up the injured man.

His face displayed little expression, but disgust, as the man writhed in pain below him. He kicked Phoenix in the ribs, with Phoenix gasping in pain. Paul could not understand a thing, except pain- all he felt was pure, unbridled pain. As he lay on the ground, with a mouthful of sand, he still willed himself to his feet. You can do this. YOU’RE PAUL PHOENIX. GET UP! Slowly, he rose to his feet, grunting and occasionally yelping in pain, he turned into a huge head butt by Heihachis thick skull. This time, he grabbed Phoenix by the hair, and lifted him to his feet.

“I’m done with this.” He snarled. He jumped forward, hitting a side kick and an axe kick, which knocked Phoenix face first on the floor. He did not stir. Heihachi bent over and picked up Heihachi by the face. “Come back when you’re ready to fight!” He slammed Phoenix’s head back into the sand and stormed off. That was pitiful.

 All he had heard about how great Paul Phoenix is, he would assume the man would be able to fight through a few simple bruises and bone cracks. Heihachi had battled through many broken bones in his fight with his father, yet he still easily defeated him. It had made no difference, just as Kazuya would suffer the same fate by his hands.

 He had sat in the jeep while pondering all this, staring out at the vast valley in front of him. The two boys fighting will be interesting. It will allow Heihachi to expose Kazuyas full flaws.


Paul Phoenix woke up, his head pounding. He groaned, as all the memories flood back to him. He glanced around his surroundings, recognizing the white floors and walls and the busy hustle of the area. They were back at the Tokyo airport.

“You know what hurts way more than the physical pain.” exclaimed Paul quietly to Marshall, who he knew without looking, was sitting beside him. “I came so close, and now I’ve been beaten.” Marshall said nothing, his eyes concealed by a pair of sunglasses. “All I can say” muttered Marshall. “Is that you get the chance to ride your Honda again in the streets of NY” Paul thought about this in a moment, and began to feel a bit better.

“Maybe I can get a burger when I get home too. A proper American one, not one of these thin ass Japanese wuss burgers.” “Better yet.” stated Marshall. “I’ll cook them myself. Look, there’s our flight, we should head home.”

Paul got up and gathered his suitcase. Nothing would ease the pain of being once undefeated, arguable best of the world, to suffering a draw and then his first loss in a matter of days. But, he knew deep down it wasn’t over yet. He now had a grudge with both Mishimas and one person you didn’t want to piss off was Paul Phoenix. But now?

All Paul wanted to do was go home and ride his bike.



Chapter 19


Kazuya once again made a second trip to the same sandy area in the Kanto Valley, as he quietly observed the scene around him. Heihachi was once again sitting in his throne, a huge shit eating grin on his face, and Lee Chaolan was bouncing from foot to foot, warming up.

There were other people there, camera men, security and such, but Kazuya was paying little attention to them. As he stood there, arms folded impatiently waiting for the fight to begin, he recalled when Lee Chaolan entered the Mishima household.

Kazuya had long since left Heihachis house to fend for himself, it had been good decade, maybe less after the cliff incident. Heihachi instantly began treating Lee with dignity and respect, as Kazuya was forced to watch in the darkness. He was given a scholarship to a business school in the states, literally handed to him.

He was paraded around as Heihachis new son, his ‘real’ son. Despite the fact he was aware Lee didn’t mean a thing to Heihachi, it still infuriated him. The fact the bastard would go to such lengths just to belittle and spite Kazuya only fuelled his fire.

And of course, the personal problems have always run deep between the two ‘brothers’. The confrontations they’ve been having over the last few weeks have been happening in similar fashion for years. Usually when Kazuya to show his face in Mishima territory which happened at maximum once per year.


He was jolted out of his reflections when Lee had taken off his jacket and begin hopping more frantically. He was wearing the signature purple waistcoat with some loose fitting dress trousers.

“Come On!” Lee yelled in English across to his brother, but due to his heavy accent it sounded more like ‘cahm oon’ Kazuya didn’t hesitate, entering battle stance immediately and began a run towards Chaolan. Lee was too quick, he had already caught with Kazuya and was hitting some quick strikes to the face. Kazuya had dodged most of them after a fleeting one had glanced him, and he kicked Lee in the back of the leg, catching him off balance.

As Kazuya threw a round kick that whistled through the air, Lee had met him in his abdomen with his foot. Momentarily, he felt a lash of pain in the stomach. He cursed to himself. The damage done by Phoenix had not properly healed, despite the help from the Devil. After catching eyes with Lee, he also made another realization. And he knows I have a weak spot.

Cursing himself once again for revealing he was in pain, he moved from another quick kick and hit a thunderous backfist to Lees face, that made a deafening smack that seemed to echo around the valley.

 As Lee spun around with the force of the blow, Kazuya advanced on his staggered opponent, finding a target of his own on the face. However Lee had, seemingly out of nowhere, hit those deadly Machine Gun Kicks- each side kick faster than the last, connecting right in the core of Kazuya.

 Kazuya took a few steps back, blocking out the flaming pain in his abdomen, but Lee had already began to hit a series of axe and round kicks to the area, which seemed to bog down Kazuya even further. He grinded his teeth, as the will to block out the pain fell.

Suddenly, he ducked a flailing leg, and began to spin- the spinning Demon kicks coming into full play. He connected the majority of them on the legs, as well as tossing his leg upwards to hit one on the chest. Kazuya had established a clear game plan: take out the legs. Once Lees legs are gone, his offence will be considerably reduced and from there he picks apart the piece.

So despite the punches to the abdomen, Kazuya hit kick after kick to Lees legs, and he soon began to see a difference. Lee had become more sluggish, and his kicks slower. Once he threw a kick, it wasn’t with his well known speed. He hit a huge kick to the back of the knee of the Silver Haired Demon, causing him to fall flat on his ass.

Still, he back rolled to back on his feet with the quickness and grace of a cat. He began to start punching and boxing more, Kazuya had noticed this and began to relentlessly target the legs even more. Kazuya was picking up the pace as the fight went on, however.

The adrenaline began to kick in and the injuries to his abdomen soon became nothing more than a minor irritant. As Kazuya had attempted a tsunami kick, Lee had ducked under and slid behind Kazuya. Kazuya threw his elbow back as hard as he could, and felt his elbow make contact with bone hard. He spun around, and delivered a back fist, before five different punches and five different kicks in a matter of seconds, before delivering the tsunami kick. It connected right in between Lees shoulder blades, and before Lee could do anything else fancy, Kazuya had hit Lee as hard as he could in the abdomen.

As Lee doubled over, winded and gasping, Kazuya felt rage and power flow through his veins, coursing around his body. Electricity crackled and sparkled around him, and with a loud bellow, he thrust his fist up with a charge of electricity and hit an amazing Electric Wind Godfist.

 Lee collapsed face first on the dirt, motionless. Kazuya took a moment to regain his breath, and glared down at his ‘brother’. Lee had always showed off, always had to be cocky and underhanded with his taunts directed at Kazuya. Now look at him.

With one hand, he roughly grabbed Lee by the throat and held his unconscious body up, without a struggle. “Pathetic.” Kazuya spat. He dropped the unconscious body to the floor and turned to the throne of Heihachi. That smile was still on his face. Kazuya will rip it off with his own bare hands.

 “You took away my family You took away my youth, my childhood.” Kazuya stormed at his father. “Twenty years ago, I made a vow. Now, I will fulfil it. Heihachi, I will tear you to pieces!” He continued to glare at Heihachi and Heihachi simply returned the favour, and slowly rose off his chair.  He responded “I made a vow too, boy. This is the only one that will be fulfilled. That you will never be alive on this earth again.”

The finals were set. Kazuya knew, only one can live. And it will be him.


Chapter 20

Heihachi was again at his cabin. As he stood on the porch, he listened closely to the radio blurting out the news. “In sports, there has been plenty of controversy over the King of the Iron Fist fighting Tournament. The brutal nature of the tournament had been shown, most noticeably in the fight between Kazuya Mishima and ‘Hot Blooded’ Paul Phoenix being a noticeable example, as the two beat each other into near death over the course of three hours. Of course, many injuries have been suffered, such as the most recent, ‘Silver Haired Demon’ Lee Chaolans broken cheekbone. But could we see a death in the tournament? The man who financed and established the tournament, ‘King of the Iron Fist’ Heihachi Mishima, has repeatedly stated the fighters knew the dangers entering the tournament, yet he had also been a giver of the death threat himself, threatening to kill his son, Kazuya Mishima in the finals of the tournament. Though the hatred between the two is known, they seem hell bent on murdering each other, and folks, you could witness a murder if you tune into to watch the King of the Iron Fist Finals.


Heihachi felt the cool breeze on his face as he enjoyed the isolation and being surrounded by nature. Heihachi had expected the media to blacken the tournament, he did not give a damn what they thought.

 No one had the power to stop the Mishima Zaibatsu, no country. Heihachi was also determined to ensure nothing stopped him wiping the boy from existence.

He felt no guilt whatsoever for tossing the boy off the cliff. Years and years, his thoughts dwelled on Kazuya, and he witnessed firsthand what that Devil inside of him is capable of.

Kazuya has become too powerful, too fast. He will not allow him, of all people, to take the Zaibatsu from him. For the last twenty years, he had ruled the Zaibatsu with an iron fist. He had developed the once small company into a thriving international conglomerate; it was Heihachi who did it, all by himself.

Heihachi is the most powerful man on the Earth and he is the best fighter too. He could barely wait, as he was filled with glee, until the day that he would snap Kazuyas neck and drop him from that cliff once again. That train of thought brought him to a key decision: where would the Finals take place? Heihachi hadn’t pondered it for long. It was quite simple, it would finish where it all began. The little shit would meet his fate on the very same cliff he threw him off twenty years ago. Heihachi grunted, as a huge smirk spread along his fist. A few short days, and the boy would be history.


Kazuya had heard the news pretty quickly that the Finals would be held at that cliff where his woes and troubles had begun. They had sent a Zaibatsu official to his house, to inform him the news. Kazuya made short work of the man, beating him black and blue, his rage overcoming him. He had left his face a mess, and his suit was torn to shreds.

Kazuya had regretted it, of course, he had nearly killed an innocent man: he had told the man to leave before things could take an even worse turn. However, he had to disgustingly admit, he felt certain... not outright pleasure, but satisfaction as he rained fist after fist on the executive, as he begged for mercy. It was as if he felt freed from his internal pain, for just a few minutes.... he felt sickeningly happy.

Kazuya once again was forced to take extreme measures to stop his temper; he took deep breaths and sat down on the chair in front of his house. Heihachi doesn’t even have the courage to tell him where the fight would be, he sent a messenger instead.

Kazuya grimaced as he thought of the damage he did to the innocent man. The Devil was gaining more control, he could feel it. Kazuya saw the golden solution in Heihachi. Once he fights Heihachi, he will release twenty years of pent up fury on him, and it will all be over. Heihachi was the one who cause this curse to appear, only fitting that Kazuya killed the source.

As for the Zaibatsu.. Well, when he took control, Kazuya was aware of exactly what he would do. Clean up his fathers’ mess would be a start. Kazuya was so intensely focused on vengeance on Heihachi he had not considered the aftermath. But, he had his plans.

Still, the cliff.... at first, he had felt slight apprehension. Not only had that day left scars on his physical body that would remain forever, but mental scars that would never heal.

He thought about it every day, how could he not, with the huge scar running down the centre of his chest and abdomen? It was of no matter now. Kazuya now felt excitement and anger fill his stomach, as he could barely wait for the day of the fight.

Kazuya would do what not only he needs, but the world needs. He will kill Heihachi. He stared at his hands, his red gloves still on, as he clenched and unclenched. In his life, Kazuya has regretted many things. Beating the Zaibatsu executive today would be a prime example. But, twenty years of waiting, hiding until the right moment to strike. Some men deserved to be murdered.

He would definitely not regret murdering Heihachi.



Chapter 21


Kazuya had quickly arrived at the cliff on the day of the fight. It was strange, that he remembered everything so clearly, despite it being twenty years. The memories came flooding back to him, even more vivid than usual, as he stood on the rocky cliff. He had made his way up the base of the cliff, knowing that he would find his nemesis at the cliff top.

He remembered it all, the pain, the pure terror as his father mercilessly beat him... he had never felt more scared in his life on that day. But, fear was an emotion that Kazuya had disposed of, blocked out.

He felt nothing but fury and hatred now, stronger than ever before now that he was close to his destination. He reached the top of the cliff within a few minutes, and spotted his father cross-legged at the edge.

His father jumped to his feet and spun around, glaring a hole through his son. “What did you say it was, boy, twenty years? Twenty years since I threw your weak body off this cliff. Well, now, you won’t have luck on your side. I will finish what I started all those years ago, I will finish the job.”

Kazuya eyes burned with unbridled hatred. “Enough talk. Now, we battle!” Kazuya yelled at the top of his lungs as he sprinted up the rocky mountain, faster than a bullet, heading straight for his father. Heihachi had also broken into a run, and both were preparing to collide in vicious combat.

 As soon as they were in striking distance, both threw their fists forward, with as much power as each could muster. Both fists collided, jarring Kazuya and Heihachi. A massive shockwave was formed as a result, as stray rocks were flung around and the sound of the two fists meeting reverberated down the chasm.

Kazuya was quick to recover, sending another fist that hit Heihachi square on the cheek. He attempted a huge sidekick, but Heihachi grabbed the foot, and tripped the other leg from beneath Kazuya. Kazuya, however, was too athletic, using the momentum of his trapped foot against Heihachis chest, he back flipped back onto both feet, and attempted a round kick.

Heihachi caught Kazuya with a kick of his own, which landed just beneath Kazuyas jaw. Kazuya felt his head snap back as he went crashing to the ground. Heihachi attempted a double foot stomp; however Kazuya rolled out of the way. Before Kazuya realised what was going on, he felt his body leaving the ground, rising rapidly. Heihachi clutched underneath his knees, essentially trapping his legs. Heihachi, with a grunt, heaved his son up, before dropping him back on the ground.

Kazuya knew he could not reach with his hands, he needed an unorthodox counter to this unorthodox attack. As Heihachi attempted another lift, Kazuya spun around to his left, the speed and snap of it causing Heihachis to release his hold of the legs.

Heihachi soon recovered, and as Kazuya rose to his feet groggily, Heihachi unleashed a barrage of fists and kicks, in quick succession and each one connecting harder than the last. The Mishima 10 hit combo was ungodly fast, as Heihachi moved faster than any man in his fifties had the right to. Finishing the sequence with a tsunami kick, a low side kick, a couple of jabs and the Dragon Uppercut, the leaping uppercut that Heihachi frequently utilises.

Kazuya once again fund himself on the floor, a mouthful of rocks. He propelled himself to his feet, and with a growl, ducked Heihachis backspin fist and hit three strong crosses to Heihachi. He then leaped and flipped, coming down with his heel directly across the back of Heihachis head. Heihachi dropped to the ground, and Kazuya grinned.

He grabbed his fathers wrist and dragged him to his feet, and kicked him hard across the face, and brought his leg back to kick him in the face again. Heihachi felt to his knees, and before Kazuya could capitalise, Heihachi brought his head right into the groin of Kazuya. Kazuya gasped, all focus lost. Heihachi hopped to his feet, and elbowed Kazuya in the stomach, then brought his fist down onto the back of Kazuyas head. Electricity crackled in Heihachis body, as he saw an opportunity: Kazuya was close to the cliff edge.

Kazuya stepped back, regaining his composure after that onslaught. He felt the back of his heel give out underneath him: he knew then that he could face a similar fate as before. Kazuya instead charged back with a he hit a tsunami kick with his other leg, and it was now Heihachi who was stumbling back. He yelled and hit a huge shocked fist to the chest of Heihachi. Heihachi grunted, as the electricity dissipated from Kazuya and was absorbed into Heihachi.

“You cannot beat me with my own weapon, boy.” He snarled, before roughly grabbing Kazuya by the head, and delivered a massive head butt. Kazuya crumbled to his knees, dizzy.

He felt blood on his cheek_ he didn’t know how he got gashed and he didn’t care. Kazuya stood to his feet awkwardly, before wiping the blood with his fingers and licking it, a malicious look in his eyes. Heihachi was shocked by the action- he had not expected the boy to be so defiant after taking a direct head butt- but slid forwards on the rock regardless, swiping his hand at the cut.

Kazuya hit the shot to the chest again, with added rage. This time it connected, as Heihachi was shot backwards and landed flat on his back, on the hard rock. Kazuya felt a welt above his eyebrow beginning to form, from where the head butt connected. But, Kazuya was past pain now- he felt nothing but fury. He marched towards Heihachi, and swung his leg low, targeting the face of the prone fighter. But Heihachi hit the foot of Kazuya, causing him to rear back. Heihachi rose to his feet, as he bellowed something Kazuya could not hear.

He then leaped up and hit a huge Demon Uppercut that sent Kazuya soaring to the ground, limp as a noodle. He hit the ground with a thud like a bag of bricks, unmoving. Heihachi snorted.

“Get up, boy! I’m not finished with you! ” That’s all Kazuya had? Still, he was wary, as he kept his eyes trained on his son. He saw the toughness of his son first hand, he knew that he may have to inflict far more damage.

Yet, only a few short moments after that statement, Kazuya was on his feet again, blood now running freely down his cheek and eyes blazing.


Chapter 22


Kazuya rushed forward with a spinning Demon kick, sending Heihachi sprawling back, blood beginning to pour out his mouth. Kazuya stood there, the sight of his enemies blood fuelling his hatred. He felt his eyes flash that familiar shade of blood red, as the Devil threatened to take over.

No! He began to struggle internally. I don’t want you here! These are my grudges, not yours. This is my fight, not yours. He stepped backwards, clutching his scar. It was as if the Devil was trying to burn his way out of the stomach. He suppressed the Devil, until he was certain he could no longer feel its presence. Not a moment sooner, as Heihachi was up and was rushing at him once again, as he now had several wounds, including a gash down the bald spot on his head.

Heihachi swung around and attempted a huge axe kick that met Kazuya on the shoulder blade. Kazuya retaliated with a back fist, that met nothing but air , as Heihachi grabbed Kazuya, and lifting him up so his legs were on his shoulders, hit him with a vicious powerbomb that cause the ground to shatter beneath him.

Normally, a move such as this on rocky terrain would snap a mans spine, but Kazuya was no ordinary man. He felt a pain in his back, but it was quickly ignored as Kazuya dragged himself to his feet.

Kazuya clenched his fist and felt the electricity soar around his body, faster than humanly imaginable. He thrust his hand at Heihachis jaw and connected with the Electric Wind Godfist. Heihachi was sent shooting into the air and crashed headfirst onto the floor. Heihachi sat up remarkably fast, rubbing his head- it had not knocked him out, but it had given Kazuya the distinct edge he needed.

He pounced on Heihachi, and despite Heihachi attempting to desperately kick Kazuya off, Kazuya rained huge crosses down on him. Heihachi faces started to become bloodier, as more wounds opened up as the powerful fists came crashing down on him. Heihachi booted his raging son off of him and stood to his feet.

Despite this, Kazuya was determined to keep the relentless onslaught going, he hit jabs, hooks and crosses, any types of punches to Heihachis face. Heihachi managed to hit a vicious front kick t the sternum of Kazuya, as it momentarily stopped him. Heihachi attempted the uppercut once again, but Kazuya moved and hit a huge Axe kick to the back of the head of Heihachi. Kazuya then mounted Heihachi, ensuring his legs were trapped and he could not get up.

Heihachi would growl and swipe at Kazuya, but Kazuya would just about dodge, and began hitting Heihachi with earth breaking punches. His mind went to his mother and his grandfather, both dead at the hands of this bastard. He remembered when he was just a child, getting thrown off this cliff, the day he relived over and over for the last twenty years of his life. A white hot rage had reached his boiling point, and he found the strength to rain down even more brutal punches than before. He kept going and going, relentless to the end, each punch more aggressive than the last, until he hit a final one to the temple that sent Heihachi limp.

Heihachis head lolled back, eyes shut. He got off of Heihachi and sat on the ground, panting. Kazuya sat there for a moment, staring at the chasm in front of him. There was barely a sound on the massive cliff; once filled with battle cries and thuds of strikes, the silence was deafening to Kazuya.

He stared for a moment at Heihachi’s laboured breaths, slightly faster despite unconsciousness. He let it sink in: He had won the King of the Iron Fist Tournament. He was now in control of the Mishima Zaibatsu. And, he had finally defeated his father.

Kazuya continued to stare at his father, as the fury slowly dissolved. Suddenly, it rose again from inside, like a fire doused with gasoline. It is not over yet. He thought determinedly.  He jumped to his feet, and, ignoring his body screaming in pain, picked Heihachi up off the ground.

He held as tightly as he could, one arm supporting the legs and the other supporting the back, as he walked slowly towards the cliff edge. He walked slowly, as he felt the pain slowly, very slowly subside. He stopped at the edge of the cliff, standing there, committing this moment to memory, the long awaited revenge.

He dropped Heihachi off the cliff.

He watched as Heihachi’s limp, loose body flailed against the wind, as he plummeted down the chasm. He continued to watch until the blackness of the deep chasm had absorbed his body completely.

Kazuya then took a step away from the edge, a huge smile forming on his face.


Kazuyas eyes glowed red.











Submitted: December 26, 2017

© Copyright 2021 Phoenixkid. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Um...this isn't a short story. It's a book. I was wondering why this chain died so long. Also considering that it doesn't seem finished says you are coming back and editing it. You'll get more out of a review if you break everything up and slowly let the novel section work its way through it. I'll try to give it a serious review anyway but I'm going to go into any detail because it's just too long.
The fact that this is a fan fiction is kind of dangerous to write. Sure fans of the series will flock to it but it turns away people that know nothing about it. If I use the danganronpa ss fan fiction on this site for example, stories like that allows everyone to read but this narrows everything greatly. On top of the fact you packed a book into a short story you really hold yourself back compared to if you changed the names of everything and make it look like your own.
The story itself shows it's effort throughly. It's nice to know you didn't at least half-ass it and it's pretty good. I just wish you made a stronger effort into getting people to read it the whole way through. Most people are going to see you broke it up into chapters like this and leave automatically.
It's a great story. Sorry I'm an asshole but I can't help but feel you're hurting yourself. even huge fans of tekken may skip this because of how you did it.

Thu, January 4th, 2018 2:50am


No don't apologise. I was told by someone that if it was anything under 20,000 words it was a short story. My bad, I'll try to move it to the novel section. It was a story that I wanted to write for a while now. I didn't really expect it to get the audience my original stuff might get. Thanks anyway.

Thu, January 4th, 2018 9:36am

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