The Re-Forging of the Blade

**Chapter Four**
The Spirit of the Forge


“Hwoarang?” The Boxer parted the open door he was sure he had shut upon leaving. “Are you alright?” he called out, stepping in carefully. If his life had taught him anything, it was to be cautious of whatever might be lurking in the shadows beyond line of sight. “Hey, do you hear me, mate?”

Nothing met his senses but a hint of heavy breathing, and a strong pungent smell in the air that reminded him of copper. The odd aroma was something Steve had not noticed upon first entrance into the Blood Talon’s borrowed compartments, nearly a half hour prior. “Hwoarang?” He called again and stepped into the main bedding area of the Korean’s hotel room.

Hwoarang was sitting, back to the corner…legs folded up and bent against his chest…hands wound around his shoulders. “Fucking hell!” the Brit hissed and rushed to the Korean, kneeling instantly before him. “What happened?”

Amber eyes that leapt with unnatural fire met the Boxer’s azure hue. The Blood Talon had been rocking himself, a soothing motion that continued even in Steve’s presence. “Hey…do you hear me?”

Hwoarang cast his head to the side at a nearly awkward angle, looking to at the boxer as though, for that moment, he had no clue as to who Steve was. “Jin?”

“No, Hwoarang, it’s me, Steve…What the fuck is happening here...what’s wrong with you?” the Boxer asked, eyes scanning the Blood Talon for injury...for any sign this was something normal and man made.

The Korean blinked rapidly several times…lashes of ebony meeting to his cheeks as he tried to regain clarity. The blood that entered his senses felt otherworldly…felt so right and yet so wrong. “Steve…Steve…” he reclaimed the name with the bend of his lips, his hand reaching out to the boxer…

Steve met the Blood Talon’s offered hand, using his body to draw the Korean upward, watching Hwoarang fall back against the wall. “Your lip...is bleeding. What happened?”

Hwoarang drew the tip of his tongue along the remnant of blood, lapping it deep into his senses as the room re-formed beneath his gaze. It was not his blood, but Jin’s…from the vial the silver haired man had left with him. Starving, thirsty…two months of agony and withdrawal slowly abated itself deep within the core of his spirit. “I...I don’t remember.” A lie. The vial that had been lodged in his hand, had been drawn to his lips and drained; its precious contents taken into his spirit...was now lost somewhere on the carpet beneath the bed.

Using the corner to brace his body, Hwoarang brushed a hand through copper tendrils, so in need of a dye. One hand fell along the Boxer’s shoulder, near the join of the neck…as refocusing eyes beheld the beauty in his grasp in a way, he believed, he had never seen it before.

“Come and sit on the bed, a ‘right?” Steve took Hwoarang by the hand he held and drew him to sit on the bed, nestling in beside him. “I haven’t been gone that long, Hwoarang. What’s going on?”

“Just...a bad dream…” the Blood Talon moaned, his elbows pressed against his knees, holding his head as wiry tendrils sprung out between his fingers. Such euphoria, such perfection…it was as though all of his body had been saved by the blood he ingested….blood of the demon lover no longer in his grasp.

“One fucking hell of a bad dream, Hwoarang,” Steve huffed, winding an arm around the Blood Talon to keep him steady…and close.

“It’s better now…because you are here,” the Korean hissed, pressing his lips against the boxers warm neck…mouth aching to bite deep and ready into yielding flesh.

Steve closed his eyes as a heavy breath passed his lips, one hand rising into Hwoarang’s coppery dyed tendrils. “You should not say such things…” his breath was a moan, forcing him to pull away from the velvet that met his skin.

“Shouldn’t I? Fuck…I can smell you…the musk of you…” the Korean hissed, licking his lips of the salty taste of Steve’s skin.

“You’re not right, mate. Something is definitely not right. You have to lie down, get some rest.” Steve took a heavy draught of air, fighting the hedonistic pull that was Hwoarang. “Come on, to bed with you.”

The Blood Talon rose up, unsteadily at first, coming to stand between the Boxer’s legs, hands leaning down on spread thighs. “To bed with me is right…But I want you…just as much as you want me. I can smell your heat…your desire…you want this as much as I do …and for so much longer…”

Steve felt his chest heave as he closed his eyes, “No, Hwoarang…those days are behind me now…”

The Blood Talon pressed Steve back into the bed, one leg between Steve’s parted thighs. “I smell what you fucking want, Foxy…I smell it…and I’m ready to give it to you!”

The Boxer tried to find Hwoarang’s eyes through the coppery tendrils that fell against the Korean’s amber gaze. He groaned as he felt the weight of his former lover atop him…fingers pressing into the blades of Hwoarang’s shoulders. “No…I can not go back to that…to that place where you were so good for me…and so fucking bad for me…”

The Blood Talon removed his shirt, tossing it to the floor behind him with little care where it fell, sliding his body against Steve in the most delectable way. “I feel alive again…and I want you…screaming…”

**

The car pulled along the curb of the hotel procured for the King of Iron Fist Tournament 5. The blackened window slowly lowered as a dark smile met the lips of the occupant, “Is it done?”

“It is,” Chaolan hissed with a wicked smile across his features, the door unlocking from the inside. The Silver Devil slid inward, one hand brushing through molten silver tendrils. “A glorious situation, so rife and ready for all the debauchery the blood allows.”

“Excellent,” Kazuya snickered as Chaolan drew in beside him. “It is only a matter of time before my blood works its way into Hwoarang’s senses…and draws my son ever closer. Are you assured he will return for more?”

“I have little doubt my phone will ring in hours. The next dose will be offered through the veins directly, now that the urgency of his body is fulfilled. Jin will come, if he still lives…”

“He lives. I feel it in my blood as does the devil within me,” Kazuya hissed, crossing his legs in the expanse of limo before him. “And what will you do, Chaolan, when the call comes?”

“I will have him, of course. A delicious specimen such as that can not pass my bed without serious questioning. Would you like to watch his breaking….leather and irons….to subjugate his base desire?”

“Your base desire,” Kazuya corrected, pursing his lips ever so slightly.

“As though I could pass on something so beautiful? But you did not answer my question. Will you be there to watch?”

“As though you have to ask, Chaolan. I trust you will make it a show worthy of my attentions.”

**

Jin pulled the ropes that levied the sails of the small freighter, using the heavy counterweight through a small opening to procure the materials alignment. It had been a difficult two days, making his body work in a way that both trained and punished him at the same time. It was nowhere near the intensity Heihachi had put him through in the beginning: …The trials of fire…a hundred candles to be burned out with Chi…or the Trial of strength…a hundred Jack Prototypes to be slain with merely the power of his Fatal Lightning.

Every moment was an eternity, and unlike the other sailors aboard the vessel he slept upon deck, curled in the naval pea coat given to him when he signed on for the adventure. Few parsons talked with him, thinking him an illiterate boat hand looking to get off of the island and find wealth in Japan Proper. He much preferred it that way, no questions, no answers.

There was only…Hwoarang.

It would be at least three days journey to the port of Japan Proper, outside of Downtown Tokyo…but three days of pay to give him money to prepare himself once ashore.

//Dangerous things are afoot, Kazama Jin. We must make haste. The wind is good from the bow…we could make time to fly, be there in hours instead of days if you merely heed my words.//

“I heed nothing you say, Demon,” Jin whispered into the cold of the night, his eyes closed as his chin and lips pressed against the upturned collar of the pea coat.

//You would say different with greater eyes. Love means nothing to infidelity. Our other taints himself in the land of British Isles…an adversary defeated and yet reborn…these months later…//

“Steve Fox,” Jin’s eyes darted open, watching the crash of the waves come aboard deck, 40 ft from where he rested. “You lie, Demon.”

//For your benefit, believe so. Though we both know otherwise….//

**

Hwoarang pressed deep into the cleft of Steve’s Body, hands on either side of the Boxer’s form, spread out and face down against the bed. It had been too long since the sensation had taken him, his body at the mercy of the tight walls that milked against him.

“Fucking take it, baby…take it like you can’t breathe without it!” the Blood Talon hissed with eyes tightly closed, arching himself with wild desire deeper into his lover’s core….even if the lover he envisioned in his mind...was not the body beneath him.

“Ahh…Hwoarang…you’re...hurting me…too much…please…hurts too much…” Steve begged as his fingers wadded the sheets beneath him, eyes tightly shut as every stab seemed to breed fire beneath his skin.

“You love it rough baby…bring me off with your pain…” Hwoarang cursed as he fell further into his fantasy, holding himself buried against the Boxer’s most delicate buried treasure with such pressure, such wanton heat…he could barely breathe. “Let me see some lightning baby…I want the burn on my skin!”

Steve grasped his thick length with coned fingers, countering pain with pleasure as the Blood Talon cleaved him in twain. “Fuck...Hwoarang….too hard…too much…” he moaned, a place inside himself battling with pleasure and pain…finding some middle ground as he brought himself to a pitch with the thrust of his hand.

“I’m gonna cum baby…so fucking hard…” the Blood Talon groaned, pressuring the back of his hand along the Boxer’s neck, pressing Steve’s face down viciously into the mattress till the Brit swore he could not breathe.

“Fuck...Hwoarang…”

Seung…

…it was Jin’s mouth that formed the words in his mind, bringing the Blood Talon to a dangerous pitch as he thrust deeper into the Japanese beauty writhing beneath him…

The Korean hissed, pressing himself hard into his lover’s body with every pull before stilling, the knot of desire heavy in his already tight sac. “Jin…fuck baby….I can’t hold it back….”

Steve hissed into his own release, arching his backside harder into Hwoarang’s already vicious pace …feeling the heat against the condom press into his milking core. With a hard cry, the Boxer gave into the sensation of hand and pressure…biting against the covers beneath him as he spilled himself along the borrowed comforter.

The Blood Talon drew upward, his body releasing Steve’s core as he moved. Rolling the condom down, he tied it off once it left his swollen crown, letting his body fall back against the wall as heavy breaths left his lips, the vision of Jin begging beneath him fading away like mist. “God damn…” he hissed in guttural fashion, watching the Boxer’s body spread open and vacant now that his thick length had left such an eager core.

Steve rolled down to his knees before the bed, gasping for breath, “I can’t feel my fucking legs….”

“Take it like a fucking man,” Hwoarang hissed, tossing the tied off condom to the ground. “God damn, that was just what I needed, Foxy,” the Korean groaned unconvincingly.

Steve rolled over to his sore backside, letting his head fall against the coverlet of the bed he had just spilled upon, though with the motion he was just enough away from the collection of his own seed. “You called me...Jin…”

“No I fucking didn’t,” the Blood Talon defended, pulling his jeans up above his hips and fastening them.

“You did…you said his name…clear as bloody day,” Steve belted from kiss swollen lips, his body arching to reach up his slacks from ankles to hips.

“I don’t remember that.” Hwoarang breathed in once more, trying to right his lungs from the sudden onslaught of exercise. “Shit. I forgot just how good you feel.”

“That’s cause I am normally on top.” Steve rose up, using massive arms to brace himself against the bed till he was seated atop the mattress…bed sheets pulled off the corners with their…lust. His body was sore, anguished from the steady stream of abuse he had taken with a greedy desire and now…wondered if his actions were the proper ones to have taken at all. “I’m not fucking with you, Hwoarang…you called out to him.”

The Blood Talon ran his fingers through coppery tendrils, drawing himself toward the bed. “Whatever. You got off…I got off, what the fuck does it matter?”

“You’re right, it doesn’t matter,” the Boxer said with a shake of his head. “You know this doesn’t change anything, right. I want Julia…” Steve hissed defensively, running fingers through nearly platinum-white locks. “This can never be spoken of.”

“What the fuck ever.” Hwoarang threw himself onto the bed, still fighting to catch his breath. “Ain’t nothing gonna be spilled out from my lips. If you want to tell her that her man likes it in the ass, so fucking be it.”

“You’re bad for me, Hwoarang. You know that just as well as I do. This can’t happen again. I can’t handle it…” Steve breathed out, refusing to look over his shoulder to the Blood Talon.

“In too deep, Foxy?” the Korean snickered with cruelty, his hand digging into the pocket of his jeans to withdraw a much needed cigarette.

“Stop calling me that. You and I…we don’t belong together. You have Jin…and I have Julia…” Steve sighed, breathing out sharply.

“Jin is dead. Remember?” The lighter came to life with a flick of the Korean’s thumb, the heavy inhale drawing blue tinged smoke from his dry lips.

“Not in your heart, he’s not. I know what I heard, Hwoarang. I can’t put myself through this. I lost to him in flesh, but I can’t fucking lose to him as a ghost.” Steve rose, using his hand to brace himself against the wall above the lamp beside the bed. “For as good as you are…I can’t let you ruin me. Julia is who I want to be with…and this never leaks out, understand me?”

“There’s the door, Foxy. Don’t let it slam your ass on the way out.” Hwoarang cupped his palm, using it like an ashtray as he flicked his cigarette embers into skin. “No word from me…no worries on that. But thanks for the good fuck…that’s two months of cum overfilling the rubber that smells of your ass.”

“You need help, Hwoarang. But it’s more than I can give to you.” Steve said, reclaiming his shoes from beside the bed, his socked feet slipping into them with quick motion. “Think about seeing someone, a’right, mate?”

“I’ll do that…the moment you stop thinking about me while you fuck that girl of yours, Foxy,” the Blood Talon hissed, waving the British Boxer off, as smoke trailed from the cigarette between his fingers.

Steve wanted to say something, wanted to bait a quip worthy of Hwoarang. No matter how he tried, the Blood Talon was just something he could not get out of his mind or his body…a dark thought in the dark of night…a hand beneath the covers in recollection. “Sleep it off, mate. I will see you in the tourney, right?”

“Later,” the Blood Talon hissed as the door to his room slammed closed, flicking the ashes of his cigarette into his palm once more. Senses so alive he could almost feel Steve’s inner anguish and yet he could do nothing about it. Had he called the lover beneath him by a sacred name, out-loud rather than in his thoughts? Had the blood that infected him and strengthened him…made him see and feel what was not there?

//Jin is far from gone…closer than you think. We will find him together, Seung…and we will drink from him until nothing but a husk remains…//

Hwoarang shot upward on the bed, the ashes he cupped in his palm scattering all over his jeans. “Who said that? Who the fuck is there?” Wild, fire rimmed eyes scanned the room….finding no one to answer his questions…

**

“Miharu! I am finally here, I am checking in right now. These two nice ladies just gave me the waiver to sign. Don’t worry, I am going to call my grandfather and let him know I made it.” Ling pressed the small cell phone between her ear and her shoulder, signing off on the two forms and sliding them back to the Guest Attendants as she gave her best-friend the play by play.

“Alright, I will call you when I get to my room.” She continued, turning to point at her pink suitcases, on the trolley just behind her. With a manicured nail she pointed to her effects, silently asking if someone would bring her bags to her new room. “If you really want me to, I will take pictures and picture message them to you. Alright, let me go and I will call you back….”

Rolling her eyes, Ling lifted the phone and flipped it closed. “I’m sorry about that. Um, can you ask someone to take these to my room for me. And is there a list, I want to see who has come back for the tournament…”

Placing her cell in her purse, Ling looked up to the attendants to find out about the list and a wide smile spread across her glossy lips. “Hwoarang??? You’re back!!” she cheered gleefully as the Blood Talon turned, narrowed eyes looking for the source of his name.

“Midget,” the Korean snickered, his right hand brushing back through his hair, left placed in the pocket of overly tight jeans.

The Chinese youth bounded toward the Blood Talon with her normal show of energy, grasping him into a hasty embrace, her cheek pressed to his shoulder. “Everyone has been freaked out about what happened to you…especially after the whole thing on the Honmaru…We thought you might have been up there with Jin…Steve was worried sick! Have you seen him and Julia? Are they here yet?”

So, that explained why Steve had acted so disbelieving when the two had met up hours ago in the Club. “I haven’t seen anyone, yet. You’re the first,” Hwoarang snickered, marveling at just what a convincing liar he could be. “So Jin was up on the Honmaru then, that’s a definite?”

“Oh my god, yeah! The explosion killed Heihachi, or so Grandfather told me…the final stage of the last tournament was held up there...” Ling bit the edge of her lip, not wanting to say anything more. There had been no word of Kazuya or Jin…the place too badly burned to find remains…but both were rumored…dead.

“Where were you? Where have you been?” Ling crooked her hip, ignoring the incessant ring on her cell phone, now buried in her pocketbook.

“Ambushed by the Korean army…had to finish out my time. You gonna get that?” Hwoarang rolled his eyes at the ridiculous style ring sound from some popular Japanese anime.

Ling slid her hand into the pocketbook, rifling around till she drew the pink cell phone up, hitting the side button to ignore and end the irritating ring from who else but Miharu, again. “You don’t look very well, Hwoarang. When was the last time you ate something?”

“About an hour ago,” the Blood Talon snickered, referring to a mixture between Steve and the vial of blood he ingested. “Look, you go check into your room and I will catch you around sometime, alright, Midget?”

“Oh no you don’t! We are going to get something to eat, the bar in the lobby serves food too. My bags will make it to my room and I am already checked in...got the keycard right in my purse…somewhere. Ugh, whatever. Lets go, we have tons to talk over.”

Hwoarang rolled his eyes and exhaled sharply. “Don’t need anything to eat. Could use a drink though. The Bar it is.” What kind of luck was this, to finally find some freedom away from the nauseating sensation of starving to death without Jin’s blood…only to end up running into Ling. The Blood Talon swore he just did not have the patience for this….

**

After close to an hour and several drinks, Hwoarang was looking around the bar for a plan of escape. The pain was slowly returning…from what he could imagine, the blood that sated him had done its job…but he needed more than a few drops to keep the agony away…to keep the pain from returning. How like a fucking junkie he had become…

Ling pushed her plate aside and sipped her soda, studying the Korean with keen eyes. Something about the Blood Talon was very...different…haunted…and the Chinese youth was sure she understood why. Jin. Rumored to be dead, Ling tried her best not to believe it…but when no word came, not even to her grandfather…she started to get that sinking feeling, the rumor, might have been true.

“So, why did you come back here, Hwoarang? …This must be really…hard on you. I mean it’s…hard on all of us…” Ling swallowed harshly, watching the play of dim lights against the Blood Talon’s features. The Korean was gaunt, pale skin replacing the tanned flesh she was used to seeing. Copper tendrils were dull and hopelessly in need of a dye…but it was Hwoarang’s eyes that seemed the deepest gateway to his pain. Amber eyes were wild, ringed with a solar shock…a flare that lunged out and imprinted itself along the rim of the irises. The pupils were narrow, partially due to dim light…and the faraway look in those eyes seemed to Ling to scream of someone with an addiction to drugs. Had the Korean started using substances more dangerous than marijuana to ease the passing of Jin’s life? Or was it Jin’s blood he missed most? The thought made the Chinese youth cringe slightly as she recalled that late night…Hwoarang’s kitchen…the smell of blood and sex lingering on their skin…a nightmare she never spoke of to another.

“Let’s just say, I have my reasons,” Hwoarang sighed, leaning back in his chair, fingertips thrumming absently against his lighter laid out on the table top.

Ling bit the edge of her lip, not wanting to push the already moody Korean to the point of getting up and leaving. It was nice to see a familiar face; it made her feel somehow closer to Jin’s spirit to be sitting and sharing a little while with Hwoarang.

The rumor of Jin’s death had been difficult to take…and Ling could only imagine how Hwoarang must have felt. She wondered if the Korean ever got the chance to tell Jin that he loved him…that little piece of knowledge Hwoarang had let her become Privy too months ago. Somehow though, Ling doubted the Blood Talon ever went through with it. “So, are you staying here in the hotel or do you still have your place in the Yurei?”

Hwoarang lifted his hand - the bandage reduced to a simple folded gauze with tape - and scratched the back of his neck. “Probably going back to my place. Chang kept it up for me so it makes more sense to just crash there and stay out of the politics of this thing.”

“So you wouldn’t mind having a visitor just happen to drop by and make some breakfast one day?” Ling smiled. She did not know how Hwoarang could possibly possess the strength to remain in that place without Jin.

“Don’t plan on being there much. Have a den to rebuild.” The Korean was his usual flippant self, even as eyes scanned the exit…trying to form a way to escape from Ling and get on with his night.

“Oh, that reminds me…there is this new club opening up - I think it’s called Dominion or something - down by the pier. The flyer said Friday night…” Ling huffed as Hwoarang’s eyes wandered…

Steve Fox walked into the bar just as Hwoarang turned his eyes, catching a glimpse of white blond hair walking into shadow, “I should really get going, have a few things to take care of…”

“Oh, there’s Steve!” Ling stood up, waving one arm in the air as she called out to the Boxer. “Steve!! Over here!”

Hwoarang wanted to sink lower into his chair to escape, but instead he followed instinct and sat upright, arrogant facade sliding over his features with practiced ease.

The Brit turned at the calling of his name, seeing Ling…at a table with Hwoarang. The last person he really wanted to deal with after the events upstairs almost two hours before. Having little choice, for fear of upsetting one of Julia’s closest friends, he resigned himself to walk over there…and keep it as short as possible.

“Ling, how have you been?” he said warmly, drawing the Chinese youth into a warm embrace.

“Where’s Julia?” she asked, grabbing a chair and drawing it over to the head of the table she shared with the Korean.

“Oh, she will be in soon, plane lands really early in the morning,” Steve said, casting his eyes toward Hwoarang with inner guilt and malice. “I am going to head out in awhile and prepare to meet her. Caught up with Wulong, he’s going to come along with me. Better than hiring a car. Police escort all the way.”

“Aren’t you even happy to see Hwoarang? Remember how worried you were when you thought he was on the Honmaru…after Jin fought you in the semi finals? I mean, you couldn’t really see that well after, eyes all black and blue but you still wanted to go looking for him.” Ling smiled, watching Steve’s face change to a shade paler than he already was.

“Yeah. Hwoarang. Good to see you.” Steve said, half heartedly, extending his hand as though he had not spent a solid hour writhing in pain and pleasure beneath the possessed Korean just a short time before.

“That’s alright, Foxy. Don’t know where that hand has been. Feel free to keep it to yourself,” Hwoarang snickered, returning his attentions to the lighter on the table, fingers thrumming the cool metal with newfound fascination.

“Well that’s kinda icy,” Ling sighed, sliding into her seat and leaning out to tap the one she had stolen for Steve. “Come and join us, have a drink…or have five like Hwoarang over here.”

“I...really can’t. I was just looking for Lei. Thought he said he was coming in here so I was going to wait and have a quick drink before we caught up,” Steve stumbled for his words, bracing his hands on the back of the chair.

“It’s a shame, really, Foxy. I do love your company but maybe you’re just a little too sore to be sitting with us right about now,” the Korean snickered, casting the Brit a side long glance, rife with innuendo. “You know, title and all. Hope this new life works out for you.”

Steve went from pale to flush, biting the edge of his lip as he tried to conceal seething rage. Hwoarang could be the most pleasant person and yet the biggest asshole, depending on which hand the leonine Korean felt like holding out. It was obvious after their little fall out, it would be the left that dealt punishment for injured pride. If only Jin had not been a factor in all of this…there would not have been jealousy…or competition…or rejection. Steve really could have pictured himself with the edgy Korean…but that was another time, another place…another country…

“Ling, I will make sure Julia gets in touch with you sometime tomorrow, I am sure the jet lag is going to be something as bad for her as it was for me. Flying from the United States is certainly longer than from the UK.” Steve said, already excusing himself and walking away before Hwoarang could stick another quip in.

“That wasn’t very nice. Why are you mad at Steve? Didn’t you two have a sorta thing, if I remember right?” Ling said, chewing on the straw to her soda, one arm folded against her stomach as she watched the Korean with disapproving eyes.

“Let’s just put it this way, Midget: the guy totally has it for me. Some people just can’t handle being second best. So, look, I should get going. I have a few things to take care of before I hit this shindig for the opening of the tournament.” The Blood Talon rose, leaning into his pocket, he tossed some yen on the table to cover his drinks and Ling’s dinner. It was the least he could do for being such an asshole…but he just couldn’t help it….even if he did like the Chinese youth as more of a friend than he would have ever admitted to anyone but Jin.

“Alright, fine. Whatever. Go and run away, but you know where to find me and believe me, buddy, I know where to find you.” Ling narrowed her eyes, glaring at Hwoarang as the Korean walked off. The ring of her cell phone buried in her purse sounded through the quiet bar area…as deft fingers reached in to grasp it.

“Yes, Miharu. Sorry about that...I was just having dinner with Hwoarang…yes the very same …Jin’s boyfriend…well, former boyfriend, I guess…..” Ling sighed softly, guilt ridden for her anger at Jin when he snapped at her months ago…the changes within seeming to tear him apart. She was sorry…that she could never make things right…just as she was sure Hwoarang was sorry he had never told the Japanese youth how deeply he really felt for him. Two separate pains the odd duo would be forced to live with…for all of their days and nights…for the rest of eternity…sharing in common the spirit and memory of Jin Kazama.