A Tekken Story: Through the Years - Volume I
Shattered World
Chapter Summary: “Why…Why does this have to happen to me? Why does a
man who was a good father, a good husband, a good teacher have be ripped away from me?’
you steal, be prepared to suffer. Chapter Warnings: None really this time, again, apart from some
heart-shattering sorrow. Rating will go up after a few chapters or so. Notes: I promise that after these next few chapters, the
story will really start to pick up!Extra Notes: Looking forward to getting my PS3 soon! Should help
with the story!
Chapter 12 – The Funeral will up soon!
ATekken Story: Through the Years
Birth, life, and death – each took
place on the hidden side of the leaf
Toni Morrison
Chapter 11 –
Shattered World
“…beep…Akira?
Are you there? Please, for the love of God, pick up the damn phone! I know what
happened…to your dad…please, when you get this message, call me back as soon as
possible. I just want to know…that you’re OK and not doing anything stupid.
You’re my friend, and I care about you. Please,”
Akira? Please…pick up. Jin told me what happened. We’re all worried about you.
But, you need your friends at a time like this, so when you get this message,
please phone me back. I’m worried about you, we all are. I…hope you’re OK,”“…beep…Akira?
Hello, Akira? Pick up. Please, pick up…fine. I just wanted to make sure you
were OK…Please, Akira…I know that you were always there for me despite the fact
that I always pushed you away…but…I just wanted you to know…I’m here for you if
you need me, if you need any of us. We’re all worried about you…panicking
almost…I’ll be here, waiting for you, making sure you’re alright,”“…beep…Akira-chan?
Are you there? Please…pick up. Pick up…pick up…pick up, dammit! Please, I’m
worried about you! I need to know…that you’re OK…when you’re millions of miles
away from me. Please, Akira-chan…I don’t care that I wasn’t the first to
know…about Naoya-san…or that I may not have left you the first message…I don’t
care. The only thing I care about is you…so please, I beg of you, please call
me back as soon as you’ve heard this message. I love you,”I stayed in
London for the next five days, sitting by Dad’s bedside as much as I was
allowed to, getting to know Steve better, letting the
voicemails build up. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. The only person I
spoke to was Jin, but only because he was keeping an eye on Hana and Mom. Luckily, an hour after I had left Taya
and Ienobu, Taya’s fiancé,
same around and took over from Jin. But Jin, the golden-hearted boy that
he was, checked in on Mom and Hana everyday just so he could report back to me.
I would have
called, but I knew that if I did, as soon as I so much as greeted Mom, she
would have begged me to come back, and I probably would have given in.
It was
nerve-racking, exhausting, alienating sitting in the creaky plastic chair,
staring at the wall, listening to the forced breathing of my father, my mind
reeling from the possibilities that I may or may not be going home with Dad,
talking to no-one but a foreign stranger and the best friend I could ever ask
for.
It was the
point in my life when I had been the most scared, yet I didn’t show it. I had
to be strong for Mom and imouto.
Then, on 30th January 2011, at 11:32
p.m. I received the call that would change my life forever.
My recharged
cell phone started jarring at the foot of my bed. I groggily whipped the bed covers
away from my body (reluctantly, it was cold in England) and snatched my phone,
peering at the lit-up screen, but I didn’t recognise the number.
Because it was a British number.
I swallowed hard and pulled my
phone to my ear,” H-Hello?”
this time of the night, but are you Miss. Oshimaki?”“…Yes,”“I’m Nurse Gross. I’m phoning
to…inform you about a change in your father’s condition,”At this point, I didn’t really
understand what the nurse was trying to hint towards me. I thought she was
phoning me because my father was now awake, sitting upright and talking,
because I had asked them to call me as soon as anything happened, whether it
was an improvement or not.“Is he OK?”“I’m very sorry that I have to
be the one to inform you about this but…I’m afraid…your father has passed away,”No.
I cupped my mouth
with my hands, shock rocking through my body, tears spilling down my cheeks.
heart-attack as he was sleeping…,”The rest of her words melted away
from my ears.
Dad…is dead?
No, no, NO!
My heart stopped
beating and tore itself into two, then into four, into eight and again and
again until it was shredded into tiny pieces like confetti. My soul fractured
bit by bit, making it agonizingly painful, the pain creeping along bit by bit.
Every fibre, muscle and cell contained within my body started to whine in
sorrow.
Through my hot tears and choking
hiccups, I informed the nurse that I would be stopping by the hospital as soon
as I could so I could identify his body and made arrangements to get him back
home…back to Mom and Hana.
Oh God, I couldn’t even think
about Mom and Hana at a time like this. It would just break my heart even more…
When I got off the phone with the
nurse, I unsteady dialled Steve’s number to inform him that I was going to the
hospital to recover my father’s body. Steve promised me that he would come and
pick me up so I wouldn’t be alone, which I was grateful for.
We rode on the bus together,
quietly, without talking to eachother, but Steve laid his hand on top of me,
making me feel less alone but not less devastation.
We were taken down below the
hospital – to the morgue – to identify Dad.
It was a little weird, being led
by a doctor and nurse, no looking or talking to eachother, to a wall with a
small window that viewed downwards, almost like a witness room.
My body went numb when they
pulled back the sheet to reveal my Dad lying on a silver slab, so still I would
have mistaken him to be relaxing, showering himself in
the light being emitted from above. But he was too pale…
I was allowed to spend some time
with him before I called Mom. Unfelt, cold tears dripped down my cheeks as I
touched his icy-marble skin with my fingertips, skimming down his shoulders and
arms, grappling his as I watched him, kidding to myself that this was all a bad
dream.
A bad dream. A very bad but livid dream.
I decided to face the music and
call Mom once they took Dad away.
God, I’ll never forget that phone
call.
I managed to break the news to
Mom through my croaky voice and she remained silent on the other end, but she
did speak (only to say that she understood that I was coming home with Dad’s
body and say goodbye) she sounded enchanted, distant, like she no longer in her
own body.
After arrangements had been made
to transport my father’s body onto the plane to Tokyo with me, the two
detectives who had been assigned to my father’s case, Detective Keith Walsh and
Detective Ryan Nelson, ran through the evidence they had found during their
investigation and informed me that they were going to temporarily hand over the
case to two detectives back in Shinjuku to see if they could come up with any
leads. I thanked them and exited the hospital.
It all felt so surreal – the
journey back to Dad’s flat, packing my stuff, saying goodbye to Steve, filling
out the forms needed at the airport, the flight back home. I felt as if I had
just taken an exotic, unusual holiday to a strange place but I had done hardly
anything at all.
Jin and Ryo were waiting for me
as I unloaded my belongings.
Remorse weighted down on my
muscles like a ton of bricks as I made my way over to them, all because I had
only kept Jin in the loop about my father, and not Ryo, my boyfriend, my sole
supporter, when I should have done.
He didn’t say anything as I
approached him; he just enfolded his arms around me and I rested my forehead on
his shoulder.
It was just what I needed.
And I didn’t want it to end.
After my leg muscles began
straining from standing upright for so long, Ryo trailed his hand down my arm
until he reached my hand, he glided his fingers through mine and directed us
out of the airport, Jin not far behind us.
A few seconds after the car made
a revving start; I laid my head on his shoulder again and passed out from
exhaustion.
When I woke up again, I had been
placed in my parents’ bed, Mom curled up beside me, clutching Hana’s hand on
the other side of her.
I began to wonder why…but then I realised.
My father…had died.
Misery hung over me like a dark
cloud.
I couldn’t believe it. Why? Why,
my father? He had been a good man, a good provider, a good father to us, a good husband to Mom. He had always done his best in
everything and he had always been kind to everyone.
He had been a great teacher, a
great father – the most important person to me.
And now, he was no longer with us
– it pained me to think that he was watching over us, but we couldn’t see or
talk to him.
Why?