Archive of Our Own ^beta

“We are going in, then out. We are striking hard, we are striking fast. By now every one of you should have memorised these floorplans. The difference between the success or failure of this mission may be you knowing what corridor to take. The difference between your life or death may be knowing where the nearest fire escape is. Do not slack. Do not forget. Keep a level head.”

Lars stepped out the way, revealing a large screen behind him. He clicked a hand-held pointer and a rotating blueprint of a skyscraper appeared on the projector.

“This is a joint mission; timing is of the essence. We cannot strike too soon or too late. Too soon and we risk alerting our enemies that they’re being targeted, scuppering our sister mission. Too late and you might as well walk in there and surrender yourself.”

He turned to the screen and shone his laser pointer at a floor on the blueprint.

“This is the fourteenth floor, where lab information is being collated. This floor is entirely glass windows on the south side. We’ll be landing on the tower helipad then abseiling down to enter the building through these windows. Alpha squadron with me will hold this floor and secure the data. The fifteenth floor is where our nearest potential threat will come from. We will hold the line whilst Romeo squadron go to the thirteenth floor.” He clicked a button and the screen zoomed in. “Floor Thirteen is where test samples are being held in cold storage. Romeo squadron will head down via this back staircase, retrieve the samples, and then extract back to Floor Fourteen. We’ll use our dropped lines to grapple to the tower rooftop for extraction. Questions?”

He’d hand-selected the squadrons himself, he knew there weren’t going to be any questions. They were good at what they did.

“Get some sleep while you can. Operation begins at oh-three-hundred hours. Dismissed.”

Lars tossed the clicker to a Tekken Force soldier standing in the wings and blew out a huff of air as he left the room. His pulse was racing, already high with anticipation. He doubted he’d sleep a wink before the mission start.

The Romeo Squadron leader fell into step with him. He had his helmet tucked under one arm and looked ready to leave at a second’s notice.

“You better get some sleep too.”

Lars smirked. “You and I both know that isn’t going to happen.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“On account of me being too agitated before the mission, Tougou, why else.”

Tougou met the smirk with one of his own.

At 0200 they were both showered and sitting by a window, hair only a little tousled, and muscles aching pleasantly. Tougou’s armour was polished to a shine. He had one leg up on the windowsill as they looked out over the silent concrete spread of the Tekken Force compound below them. Brutalist slices of buildings were suffused in the violet of night.

“Don’t know if I love it or hate it like this,” Tougou whispered.

“Has to be both, right?” Lars shuffled, jostling the heavy pauldrons on his shoulders against the glass. There was barely room for the two of them to sit here, but the proximity was part of it. It was just them and the silence hanging poised over them.

“There’s something in it – just before it all goes down, I feel alive, invincible, like I could do anything. But I also can’t stand it – the waiting. If it’s all going to go wrong, I want it to just get on and… go wrong, you know?”

Lars knocked his knee against Tougou’s. “Nothing’s going to go wrong. A couple of master tacticians planned this down to every detail.”

“Do you ever find that heavy? That ego you walk around with?”

Lars flashed him a grin. His still drying hair was a little deflated, softening his appearance. Moonlight pooled on his skin and set silver in his blue eyes. Tougou glanced away. Lars saw heat reigniting in his cheeks. His grin slid into a smirk.

“We better get a move on.” Tougou said. He noticeably didn’t turn back, no doubt so that he could avoid just the face Lars was flashing at him.

“Yeah.” Lars stood and stretched, making the articulated armour on his spine click. He tightened its fastenings and rolled his shoulders. He went over to a bedside cabinet, sifting through a few personal keepsakes.

“Where are my keys?”

“In my pocket.”

Lars looked over his shoulder at Tougou, unimpressed. “I’m driving. I need to get to the rendezvous before all the troops do.”

“In case the choppers take off without you?” Tougou was checking his boot fastenings. He gave a small jump in them once he was done, then rotated his hips, checking his mobility.

“I’m driving, Tougou.”

“It’ll be hard without keys.”

Lars turned back to the bedside cabinet and tugged open a draw, flailing through this as well. “Where are my spare pair?”

“My other pocket.”

“You.”

“Me. Stop whining about it. Are you bringing a helmet this time?” Tougou picked up his own, turning it over to check the interior was intact.

“If a bullet comes towards my head, I’ll just catch it between my teeth.”

Tougou turned exasperated eyes to him. “Sometimes I wonder how you’ve survived this long.”

“Got this guy at my side doing safety checks every five mins, that’s why, probably.” Lars tugged open a canvass bag and started pulling weapons out by one, slotting them into his body armour. He slid a combat knife into the back of his boot until it clicked in place.

“What a great inconvenience that must be.” Tougou came to his side, opening his own bag.

“Mmhm. Did you check over that fuse I changed in your sword?”

Tougou drew the sword in question out of his bag. It was a hefty build, resembling old dadao sabres; built for strength and brutality. “I haven’t had a chance. I’m sure you did the installation fine though.”

“Give it here.”

“Lars, we have more important things to worry about-”

“Like a squadron not losing their leader just because his weapon wasn’t functioning the way he expected? If helmets matter, your sword matters.”

Tougou handed the bladed over. Lars flicked on its electrostatic field. He felt the hairs on his hand stand up on end as the blade throbbed with latent current.

“Got anything disposable around?”

“I think you’ve destroyed everything disposable in here at some point.”

“Hmmm…” Lars stood. He pulled the blade across the wall, grinding out balls of electrostatic discharge as the thing scored against it. A blackened, smoking line was left as an indented trail in its wake, along with an acrid smell. “Seems to be working fine,” Lars said cheerfully.

Tougou wrinkled his nose and looked at it sourly. Before they moved on though, he caught Lars with a hand.

“Hey. This mission. You going to be alright with a direct line to command?”

Lars paused. Tonight would be the first time he spoke one-on-one with his father. Just shy of ten years in Tekken Force, and he’d finally have a direct line to the CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu. Only Tougou knew what that meant to him – who Heihachi was to him. It was hardly going to be the place for some light father-son bonding though. Lars had been trying to put the matter from his head for days. Tougou must have known so, as he’d spoken precious little of it too.

“Yeah,” Lars gave, with a touch of faux confidence. Then more firmly, “It’s just business. There’s a mission to do. Everything else comes second.”

Tougou looked him over, seeking eye contact. Lars let his gaze slide elsewhere and harden. Tougou nodded, and that was that, the matter was over. The moment dissipated between them as quickly as it had come.

Once they were kitted up, they headed down to the officers’ garage. Tougou got into Lars’s overland truck on the driver’s side, while a resigned Lars took the passenger seat, and placed his helmet in his lap.

“That goes on when we get to the rendezvous.” Tougou nodded at the helmet.

Lars gave another sigh. He was fidgety as they drove.

“This is why I should have driven,” he muttered. “We’d get there in no time.”

Tougou changed gear and checked a wing mirror as he took them out of the steel mesh compound gates. A single floodlight looked down at them, like a second moon charting their path. Once they’d left it behind them, the night was black and only cut by their headlights.

“We’re going to get there without any delightful stunts this time.”

“I rolled that jeep, once.”

“Once is once too many for my liking.”

Tougou turned off the road and slowed as the tires bumped onto a track. It was mostly wasteland and even calling it a track was generous. The wiry tall grasses of the prairie were leaning all about them now, flickering white as their headlamps stole over them.

“You’re slowing down…” Lars cried, exasperated.

“Stop back-seat driving!”

“Passenger seat. Oh!” Lars leaned forward suddenly.

“What is it?!” Tougou was abruptly alert.

“Over there,” Lars pointed. The rover was angling up a grassy knoll and came out onto the roving flats of the prairie proper. A clean clear horizon of stars was broken only by the pure black of distant cliffs and canyons. Lars was pointing into the midnight blue of the night sky. “Shooting star,” he whispered.

“You’re sure? Not a satellite, a rocket, or a drone? We don’t want the operation picked up.”

“Your romantic sensibility really hasn’t come on any.”

“I’m being cautious!” Tougou gave, a little embarrassed by that. He squinted at the sky. “I don’t see any shooting stars. He checked his rear-view mirror. A hive of headlights swarmed as dots in the dark. “I do see the rest of our trucks catching up to us though. Catching up. Because we’re ahead.”

Lars rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat. “I did see a shooting star though. Isn’t that meant to be good luck?”

“Who needs luck when a couple of master tacticians planned this down to every detail.”

Lars gave him a wide grin.

All smiles and familiarity were replaced by sharp, clean movements when they reached the rendezvous. It was a wide, flat gully, sheltered on three sides by cliffs that would hide their headlights, but spacious enough that the helicopters could take off without issue.

Lars paced back and forth as squadrons of the First Special Forces Operational Group were driven up in trucks. He’d chosen just to take his own squadron and Tougou’s on this mission. The helicopters could only carry so many, and they were looking for speed, not overwhelming force.

Lars brought the squadrons out of their trucks to gather in the gloom with a single gesture. The rocky plateau was lit by truck lights – beams of blue placing white circles on the cliff faces. Two state-of-the-art Zaibatsu helicopters were behind Lars, filling the air with the throbbing hum of their propellers. They were mean looking things, with pointed noses for cockpits, green windows to help with night flying, and finned wings sheltering a hefty helping of rockets should things go pear-shaped.

Lars gave his instructions with hand-signals alone under the deafening whir of the helicopter blades. He signalled which chopper each squadron should take, then indicated which channel their communicators should be tuned to at all times. Finally, he put a finger in the air and cycled it, telling them to head out. He took his helmet from Tougou and nodded to him. He put it on, flattening his unruly hair into the familiar confines, then the two of them parted to their respective helicopters.

They took to the air with a thunderous roar, kicking up dust and bending lone wiry bushes clinging to the cliffs. The helicopters flew blind: lights off, with radar displays, night vision, and thermal imaging their guide instead. Lars could feel the urge to drum his leg as he sat, filled with the rush of eager anticipation. He refrained though, holding a calm, even demeanour for his troops.

The chopper ride was going to be a short one, and they were close enough now that Lars was going to have to call in command. This mission had attracted attention from the very top and Mishima Heihachi himself wanted live feed as well as radio communication. Lars could feel his pulse beating thick in his neck. He knew this wasn’t just regular nerves.

He connected the call in his helmet.

“This is Alpha Leader of the First Special Forces Operational Group calling Tekken Force Command, come in.”

“This is Tekken Force Command, we read you Alpha Leader, over.”

It wasn’t Heihachi. Lars breathed out a sigh of relief. He chased away the fraction of disappointment in his gut.

“We are on schedule and ready to strike as planned. Awaiting status of sister mission before commencing action, over.”

“Sister mission confirmed on schedule you are clear to continue, Alpha Leader.”

“I read you, Command.” Lars flicked on the cam at the side of his helmet. “Testing live mission feed, over.”

“Mission feed confirmed live. We see what you see, Alpha Leader. The-” The commanding officer was abruptly cut off.

Lars set to checking his connection, before a voice suddenly filled his audio. He sat bolt upright. Just the slow, deep confidence in that tone, that he’d so far only heard on news broadcasts, sent a shiver straight down Lars’s spine.

“Hello, Captain. Do you understand the importance of your task today?”

“M-… Mishima-kaicho,… I do, sir.”

“This is a personal matter to me, Captain. I care deeply about the outcome of this mission. This is a great opportunity to win my praise, or earn my… scrutiny.”

Lars’s heart was pounding. He was glad that the confines of his helmet kept this moment private. He took a moment, drawing in his breath in an effort to sound more level-headed.

“You can count on me, Kaicho.” In ordinary pep-talks, this would be the moment the call cut. Apparently Heihachi was no ordinary man.

“I see from your file here that you have an impressive number of successful missions and commendations to your name. And in one so young.”

Lars swallowed. Military etiquette was failing him. This was a world he didn’t know. Things were getting personal. Heihachi had looked at his files? He found them impressive? He felt giddy. The sixteen-year-old him that had enrolled in Tekken Force cadets had always dreamed of this moment.

“I’ll make sure the data and samples are retrieved for you, sir.”

Heihachi’s voice had turned silken. “Ah, but you did serve on that one mission that struck deep into the Mexican mountains…”

Lars rollercoasted out of pride into a swathe of nausea. Mexico had been a disaster. Every soldier slaughtered. Lars had known nearly all of them. He needed to be at his best for this mission. He didn’t need this right now. This dissection. These ricocheting emotions. He did his best to keep an emotionless distance.

“Just on comms, sir. I wasn’t on the ground team for that.”

“A pity. Perhaps I would have seen more from that mission if you had been on the ground.”

Lars had thought as much himself before, during, and every night after. He didn’t dare say anything.

“Well, not to worry,” Heihachi continued with a lethargy that perhaps didn’t quite appreciate that Lars’s helicopter already had visuals on the target skyscrapers. “I have you now, don’t I, Captain. Do a better job this time.”

There was an awkward crackle on the mic, then Lars heard the Tekken Force Commander add:

“Command, out.” And the line went thankfully dead.

Lars sat in absolute silence. Dread was in his stomach. He needed this. He needed to show Mishima Heihachi that-… That what? He’d made a mistake by taking no interest in someone who could prove himself so adept? That Lars could be a son after all, no different to those that Heihachi had elevated in status, power, and wealth? He shook his head. He was all over the place. He needed to get it together. There were precious few kilometres left before the drop site.

He flicked his audio channel over.

“Romeo Leader, come in.”

“Copy, Alpha Leader.”

“Just checked in with Tekken Force Command, over.”

Silence. Tougou knew. He always knew.

“Hanging in there okay?” Tougou asked.

Lars wasn’t sure what to say.

Tougou’s voice softened. “Forget him. There’s just us. Do what you’re good at, and don’t worry about the rest.”

Lars closed his eyes, absorbing those words into his bloodstream.

“You’ve got me, you’ve got the team you wanted, you’ve got the plan we drafted together,” Tougou continued. Lars imagined Tougou was sitting just next to him. He let that soothing, familiar voice lap all his anxieties and insecurities away. “Nothing else matters. He’s got eyes on this mission, but you’re calling the shots. You go in there and be the Lars Alexandersson everyone on this mission wants to follow. Forget the rest.”

Lars’s eyes opened slowly, resolute now, and with their own internal fire rekindled.

“Thanks, Tougou,” he breathed softly. “See you on the other side.”

“Take care. I’ve got your back.”

“Same. Alpha Leader, out.”

Lars could see the bright lit towers of their target drawing up close now. He let everything else roll off him as Tougou had suggested. Heihachi wasn’t his father here. He wasn’t his father anywhere, in fact. He was just a CEO, and Lars was a soldier with a job.

Their chopper swooped in high over laboratory security fencing. The whole facility was remote, deep in the prairie, surrounded by miles of flat, with a suppression on its signalling to keep the outpost quiet on various global satellites. The Mishima Zaibatsu had found it anyway.

Lars signalled once, and every soldier in the chopper reached for their drop line and latched it onto a carabena attached to the floor, then looped it through the harness on their armour. Lars held his line in his hands. He could almost feel the rough texture of the rope through his gloves. His heartbeat was in his mouth now. And that something else. That sheer thrill that only caught up with him when the moment finally came. He didn’t do it for the high, but damn when it was like this-

The chopper door pulled back and roaring air filled the hold. Lars was the first standing on the edge.  The second chopper was hovering perfectly level with theirs.

“This is Alpha Leader. Ready all stations. Over.”

“Romeo Leader, ready to drop. Over.”

“Alpha Leader to Tekken Force Command, we are in position, awaiting orders. Over.”

“This is Tekken Force Command. Awaiting final go ahead from Nepal team. Over.”

Lars’s rope was fluttering madly behind him. The helmets of his Tekken Force squadron were sentinel, poised, waiting for his command. He could see his own black visor mirrored in theirs. The throb of his heartbeat was like a taiko drum. Beat beat. Beat beat.

“You are cleared for action, Alpha Leader.”

“This is Alpha Leader. All teams are go. Out.”

Black night eddied below Lars, along with the swimming lights of the skyscraper helipad. Yeah, it wasn’t half bad like this. He dropped.

His stomach lurched with a shot of pure vertigo. Air rushed past him. His eyes lit with raw adrenaline. Lights reared up fast beneath him. He let himself freefall just a little more than he should. Then he was slowing his descent with clamps on his dropline that sparked brilliant silver in the night. His team were dropping all about him, black spiders on threads. He hit the helipad and rolled.

He was on his feet instantly. He set about making up a new belay, lashing lines to iron rings on the helipad and fastening the lines afresh once they’d been let loose from above. He tapped the shoulder pad of the soldier on his right when he was done and they fanned out to the skyscraper edge, ropes in hand. As he waited for the other squad to mirror them, he edged his heels back until they stuck out over the building edge. He glanced back at the nothing beyond them. Another thrill shot through his gut. His finger curled on the rope, ready to jump.

His radio crackled in.

“Tekken Force Command, come in, Alpha Leader.”

“Alpha Leader reporting, over.”

“Do you have nightvision enabled on your camera feed, Alpha Leader? Over.”

Lars was plunged into thoughts of not living up to Heihachi’s standards. He fumbled with a button at the side of his helmet.

“Apologies. Should be enabled now. Over.”

“Very good. Proceed. Command, out.”

Lars breathed out slowly. It was hard in the confines of his helmet. His squadrons were in position though, there was no time for anything else. There was no Heihachi, he told himself, there was only the mission.

He gave the signal, and as one they dropped over the roof edge. His stomach swooped and the thrill was upon him again. His boots touched light against a window, and he bounced off into the night air, letting a little more rope slip through his hands. He came back with a soft thud against the glass, and bounced again. Spanning across the entire skyscraper front were both his squadrons, quiet as they abseiled down the building.

Lars counted the floors down. At floor fourteen, he winked his flashlight once. He and his troops pushed away hard from the wall, swinging their bodyweight out into mid-air. They came back in boots-first, smashing through the windows. Splinters crashed about him in a curtain of cut glass. Lars hit the ground and rolled. His gun was out a split-second later, torch on, swinging round the room.

His torch beam swung to reveal a darkened, wide room. Desks formed regimented rows before him, each with a computer station. At the far end a line of computer towers winked an array of lights and hummed. From out of the broken windows, Lars’s troops emerged as shadows, hunched down, guns raised.

Lars reached for his harness and unhooked the dropline. He signalled his team to fan out. He could see Tougou's squad going straight for a far door on the right that would take eventually lead down to the next level. Lars beelined for a door on the left that went to a stairwell to the upper floor. He put his ear to it, then turned its handle silently. A cold, empty concrete staircase met him, lit only by blue emergency lighting. He let the door close with gentle click. He moved two fingers and stationed soldiers either side of the door. He touched his radio.

"Computer lab secured."

He motioned the tech part of his team to set to work. Two soldiers went to desktops and a third plugged a device straight into a computer tower.

"Alpha One reporting. Download begun. Estimated data retrieval time fourteen minutes. Over."

Fourteen minutes. Lars hated these technical missions. You couldn't speed up a computer and withdrawing early might even mean leaving with nothing. These machines were so temperamental and in high-end facilities a bunch of safeguards were often in place that would lockdown the whole floor if a system alert was triggered.

"Roger, Alpha One," Lars responded.

He stationed two more soldiers at the far door Tougou had taken and another two on lookout at their entry point. Then he stalked up and down the room, restless. He'd wanted to head the team going deeper, but Tougou had been right that he should hold the line here. Downstairs was only a lab, whilst upstairs was a security floor. He wasn't expecting much more than a bunch of jumped-up security guards, but he was the one of them who excelled on the frontline.

A stuttering of gunfire came from without. Lars had to stop from leaping for the door.

"Romeo Leader, come in!"

There was silence for a moment. Lars's breath was coming fast in his helmet.

"Copy, Alpha Leader, contact in room fourteen-oh-two. Threat neutralised. Over."

"I'm sending you back-up. Over."

"Negative. We'll handle it. Hold position, Alpha Leader. I'll radio in if needed. Keep alert, alarms may have been triggered. Over."

Lars cursed. The final word was his, but he had to trust Tougou's judgement. Tougou wasn't like him, always pushing the limits before requesting help - Tougou was rational and level-headed, with little interest in pride or glory. If he needed help, he'd ask for it.

One of Lars’s squad tapped his arm and pointed. A silent, rotating red light had begun spinning in the computer lab. It cast eerie moving shadows over the winking screens.

"This is Alpha Two, I can hear movement from the floor above, sir."

Lars's head snapped to the stairwell. He pulled two more soldiers to cover the door and had them set up further back with guns trained for the moment it might open. He raised his own rifle.

His squad went absolutely silent. They stood in frozen harmony.

The stairwell door burst open. Lars squeezed the trigger of his rifle. A flash of guttural light and burst fire clattered in the air. Two security guards were dead before they made it out the door. There was commotion from up the stairwell – more coming. Lars’s gun stayed perfectly still. Waiting.

“This is… Romeo Leader. Back up requested.”

Lars’s heart caught in his chest. Tougou. Absolute calm set into his actions. His thoughts went to cool and level.

“Alpha One you have the lead. Alpha Two, keep on the far door. Hold the line. I’m going to back up Romeo Squadron.”

A different officer would have sent in a team to relieve Tougou. A different officer would have at least taken a team with him. But Lars worked best on the front line and with space. If he had to get into action, the less people he had around him the better.

“Alpha Leader to Romeo Leader. Hang in there. I’m on my way.”

He ran the length of the room. His team had already pulled open the door for him. They knew how he worked. Immediately before him was a corridor, lit with the rotating red of a silent alarm. Lars nodded once to his troops and stepped within. He slowed his pace as he turned a corner, still going at a healthy speed, but cautious now that he was alone. His gun swung a torch beam down the empty corridor, lighting it steely blue. Triple shadows of himself extended on the walls – shrinking and growing under the twirling alarm.

A sharp left-hand turn took him deeper. He pushed open a door. A wider room filled with cooling units. This was where the first gun fire had come from. Fallen lab technicians, bodies pooling blood. What the hell kind of hours did these people work? Lars had been expecting minimal non-combative casualties. He stepped over the fallen lab coats.

“Be careful,” a voice growled in his ear.

Lars spun on the spot, taken by surprise. Then he realised it was his comms. His father was watching. Lars couldn’t decide if his company was unnerving or reassuring just then.

He crossed the room and tugged open a steel door. This took him to the stairwell leading to floor thirteen. The steps were very dark. No alarm lights here. His night vision picked out the stairs in faint fluorescent green. His breath was loud in his helmet.

Floor thirteen was black. Nightvision only gave Lars skeletal green outlines to navigate by. Lars turned another corner, torch swinging wide. He reached for a door. He pulled it open and leapt in, gun flashing to cover all new angles. The room flickered dimly by overhead lights, forcing him to turn nightvision off. More cooling units – large, cylindrical, spitting gas from bullet-peppered holes. Faint hissing steam clouds hung about the floor. There were more bodies here. Lab technicians fallen where they’d been gunned down. Nothing else. And at least not Tekken Force bodies. Yet.

There were sounds of scuffle now – muted banging and a stutter of gunfire. Every bone in his body wanted to run to Tougou, but he had to play this carefully. He had to know every inch he covered was a safe route back out. He stepped over a still-pooling puddle of blood and pushed open the door at the end.

It was jammed. He put his back to it and heaved. Something with a heavy softness to it was blocking up the door. He pushed again, and this time something gave, letting the door grate open. He squeezed through. A Tekken Force solider. Fallen. Body twisted now under the pressure Lars had put it through to ram the door ajar. Lars bent to check them. Romeo Five. Nakashima Hide. She’d be turning twenty-six in the new year. Due leave in two weeks’ time to visit family in Fukuoka. Lars dragged her away from the door so that it could open easily. Then he straightened.

He was in a corridor, different to those from earlier. Rectangular striplights glared down from above. A shattered glass wall that had looked into a laboratory was to his left. Lars did a double take. There were enormous glass tubes in there, filled with greenish liquid and in which was suspended – he looked harder. A pale hand bumped against the glass, before it rotated and was lost again to the murky depths. He didn’t have time to think on that further: everywhere, Tekken Force lay fallen. Some had been thrown bodily through the glass wall into the lab. Some twitched and shifted on the ground, moaning softly. Others lay perfectly still.

“Romeo Leader? Romeo Leader? Come in! Tougou, come in?!”

Damn whatever Heihachi heard. Damn if he heard the urgency in Lars’s voice. The need in his voice.

Lars advanced down the hallway.

“Lars?”

Lars whirled around. He saw the sabre first, still on, stuck point down into the floor. The fuse hadn’t failed it at least. Then the hand limp next to it. Tougou. A soldier had fallen on him, making his armour tag hard to read, but Lars knew him like he’d seen his face with his own eyes. Lars dropped to his knees and pulled a dead soldier off him. From the angle of Tougou’s leg, things didn’t look pretty.

“What the hell is going on?! Can you walk? Did they get the drop on you?”

Lars’s hand shook as it hovered over Tougou’s leg. Heihachi was watching this. Fuck Heihachi. He touched Tougou’s leg, earning him a flinch.

“Don’t worry. I’ll bring a team down and get you-”

“Lars-”

“It’s not a bad break, just a fracture, I think. Are you injured elsewhere or-”

“Lars!”

Lars’s head snapped up. He lost balance, staggering back.

A figure was before him, filling up the corridor. Someone terrible. A man, perhaps. No weapon. Tall, blue shirt, black trousers. Not a lab tech. Not security. Face scarred. Black eyebrows. Black hair, all smoothed back to a point. Just a little had escaped, like he’d been disturbed, liked he’d faced a minor inconvenience. His chest was rising and falling hard. From under his terrible brow – his eyes: one pitch dark, one gleaming red, like a pin bright beam in the gloom.

“You’re still alive?!” Lars heard in his ear. Heihachi confirmed what Lars’s addled thoughts had jumblingly got to. His half-brother – Mishima Kazuya – alive.

Lars struggled to his feet. His defiance made Kazuya smirk. Lars knew immediately that the parameters of the mission had changed. This was just about survival now. He froze, standing over Tougou, staring at Kazuya, trying to buy himself precious seconds.

“This is Alpha Leader,” he murmured into his comms. “Mission abort. New mission. Hold floor fourteen and extract wounded on floor thirteen to safety. Hostile encountered on floor thirteen. I’ll hold him off and lure him away whilst you secure the wounded. Send word when all are safe. Over.”

“This is Alpha One. Copy, Alpha Leader. Out.”

Lars raised his rifle slowly. A kick obliterated it from his grip instantly. The force of the impact slammed Lars to the wall. He reached for Tougou’s blade – a second kick rammed into his helmet. He hit the wall again. Impact rang through his body. His head spun. The corridor was swimming.

That red eye was coming at him through the dark. He had to buy his team time. Lars reached again for Tougou’s blade. His fingers closed on the hilt and he drew it buzzing across him. Kazuya hissed and drew back. A single slit of burned fabric cut open his trousers. Lars managed to right himself to a crouch before another kick came in. He dodged it, but it connected to the hilt of his sword and snapped it out of his hand, so that it clattered and span away across the corridor.

Lars rolled forward on one shoulder, coming past Kazuya. He ripped a combat knife from his boot as he did and plunged it towards Kazuya’s heel. His wrist was stamped down hard, trapping it to the corridor floor. Lars bit down on his lip hard as that heel twisted, crunching down on something soft. Lars lashed out with a leg, kicking out at Kazuya’s kneecap. Kazuya stepped out of the way, giving Lars back his hand. Lars pulled his arm to him. He scrabbled at the floor with his other a hand, looking for anything he could use as a weapon. He grabbed at a fallen semi-automatic pistol and got to his feet, backing away down the corridor.

Kazuya seemed cool, unfazed, with a burning determination in his mismatched eyes. Lars backed up further. Kazuya advanced. Good. Lars bolted for the end door, even if his every instinct screamed not to leave Tougou, he had to lead this monster away from his comrades.

Lars ripped open a door. The room before him fell away into darkness. He flicked his nightvision on. The laboratory before him was spacious, supported by brutalist concrete pillars that bent to become rafters. Grim shards of striplight were embedded low into parts of the wall, giving off barely enough light to see by, but just enough to blur Lars’s nightvision into splotches of impenetrable white. He ran into the lab. He turned, keeping the door before him. He backed away whilst his fingers sought out the pistol magazine. He could feel from the weight that it was close to empty. He reached for his utility belt, eyes staying on the door. He glanced down to find it. His gaze was only gone a second, but when it flicked back to the door, Kazuya was there – a silhouette against the bright corridor behind him. His single red eye was gleaming.

Lars snapped the magazine in place, pulled back the safety, and fired. The recoil of the heavy pistol snapped the gun back in his hand. His bullet put a concave dent in the door. It crumpled the metal like it had collided with a truck. Kazuya had already moved. Lars retrained the gun, sweeping the room for sign of him. A black shape came at him in the darkness. Lars shot once, twice – explosions of concrete burst from the rafters at each missed shot. Kazuya’s fist hammered against the back of his hand. An extended knuckle picked out the pressure point at the back of Lars’s wrist and his fingers splayed on reflex, splintering pain in the same place Kazuya had crushed earlier. Lars reached with his other hand to catch the gun as it fell. A gun was far more effective a defence than an unarmed guard would be. The choice left him open though, and, as expected, Kazuya punished it in full.

An elbow smacked into Lars’s helmet. A hand slid smooth over it to grab the back of his neck, and his visor was smashed down onto Kazuya’s knee. Lars dropped with the impact, nightvision crackling with static. A blare from the sidelights blinded his vision the rest of the way, and he reached to snap off nightvision as he fell. He hit the ground and Kazuya stamped a foot down onto his chest. Lars fired blindly up into the gloom, eyes not yet adjusted. Kazuya grabbed the gun. Lars held it tight and squeezed the trigger. The shot was wide, but the massive caliber bullets had the chamber ricocheting force so hard that Kazuya had to retract. Lars herd him hiss in sharp pain. He aimed again, but Kazuya kicked him in the chin. His head snapped back, saved from worse by his helmet catching on the concrete floor. The room was swimming though, fading in and out of light and dark. He had to move.

He crawled with difficulty, backing away. Within moments his back was to the wall. The gun was no longer in his hands.

“This is Alpha One, extraction complete, Captain. Wounded are being winched up to the helipad. Alpha Squadron are holding the floor. Awaiting orders.”

Lars’s vision swam. He could see the pistol now, pointed towards his face. Lars’s breath was the loudest thing in the room. His helmet was filled with the sound. How strange to die like this. At the hands of his brother.

Kazuya’s features were lost to the darkness of the room, but Lars saw his lip curl. Lars’s gut mirrored it, curling with dread. His mind was working fast, trying to think if he had knives left somewhere, trying to guess which way to roll, in case he could somehow dodge the – the barrel came close, levelling to Lars’s forehead. He’d seen those bullet explode stone from twenty yards away. Even the helmet Tougou had made him wear wasn’t going to survive this.

Tougou. There was so much Lars hadn’t told him. But Tougou would know anyway. He always knew. So much for lucky shooting stars.

Lars looked up into those mismatched eyes. They were looking passed him, fixed on the camera at the side of his helmet, he realised.

Kazuya’s voice came in a rasp.

“I’ll… get everything back!”

Kazuya’s fist pounded into the side of Lars’s helmet, cracking his display, rupturing the camera, and splintering his radio into static. Lars found himself lying on the floor, looking at the laboratory from his side. His eyes were heavy.

Kazuya was walking away. He was looking at the pistol in his hand in disgust. He threw it away and stalked into the darkness.

Lars didn’t have time to think about luck or fortune. He tapped his radio. It was gone, completely destroyed. He was on his own.

He begun crawling towards the door. He wasn’t sure where Kazuya had gone, if he was even still in the room. He wasn’t sure if he’d blacked out and lost any time, and if his squad would still be waiting. He used his forearms and knees to slither forward in a tactical crawl, keeping low and silent. He reached the door and sat up. He pushed it. It creaked on its abused hinges.

Lars got to his feet, crouching low. He slipped through the doorway, shaking his head clear. A line of crumpled static was still layered over his assisted vision. He wrenched off his helmet and placed it quietly on the floor. Finally, he could breathe. He let his breath come rhythmically as he tried to slow the pace of his heart. The corridor had noticeably less bodies in it. Tougou was gone, he was glad to see. Lars picked up a sub machine gun, reloading it as quietly as he could. He grabbed Tougou’s fallen sabre too. He kept low as he checked the pulses on the rest of the bodies, then he moved for the door. He trained his gun, sweeping it in a full circle before he stole into the corridor.

Then he was back through the cooling room and turned into the end corridor. When he reached the stairs, he ran up them. He burst through the doors into the computer lab on floor fourteen, nearly earning himself a round of friendly fire. His familiar, unruly hair and devil-may-care tactics were second nature to his team though. Guns moved in an instant from him back to the door they were covering. Lars tapped where his helmet and radio had been, using gestures to indicate the problem and that they should head out.

The far end of the room was littered in security guard bodies, but thankfully none of his own, Lars’s gaze flicked over the room. He clapped his hands once and gestured to the abseiling lines, dangling like dead snakes out of the broken windows. He helped Alpha Two wedge shut the stairwell door to floor fifteen with a barricade of corpses, then they were the last two to the windows. Lars took his line in hand, nodded a signal, and they were being reeled back up.

Lars kept his boots against the side of the building, walking up the walls as he was pulled back up to the rooftop. The cold night air was fresh against his face, waking him out of the daze of what had just transpired. He was met by a forest of arms pulling him up over the edge to the helipad. He got to his feet. Somehow his ears were still ringing from when Kazuya had shattered his audio feed.

Someone was giving orders in the helipad centre – covering the only exits up from the building, and fixing together safety harness to airlift the wounded. Tougou was limping, standing heavily on one leg. Lars rushed to him. He caught Tougou’s elbow and turned him to him, bumping his forehead to his helmet. He was speechless again, but it didn’t matter. Tougou always understood. Tougou’s hand gripped Lars’s arm in turn. They stayed brief and close for a few seconds. Lars handed over the sabre. Tougou took it. He looked it over for a moment in silence, then sheathed it. Then Tougou was stepping back and resumed giving orders to split the wounded between helicopters.

The air became alive with the roar of helicopter blades. Lars had to hold his hair back from blowing in his face. The helicopters hovered above the helipad, barely skimming the pad to touch down before everyone was loaded on board.

Lars sat himself in the Romeo Squad helicopter next to Tougou. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as they took off. He was handed headphones and a mic shortly after. He snapped them on even though the deafening noise before had been liberating.

“This is Alpha Leader, come in Tekken Force Command.”

“Reading you Alpha Leader, good to hear your voice. Thought you were a goner there. Over.”

“It was a close thing, Command. Not everyone made it out. Seven down. Over.”

“Were the samples and data retrieved? Over.”

Lars ground his teeth together. His temper flared hotter than any conflict with Mishima Kazuya had made it.

“I said seven are down, Command. Over.”

Silence. Command knew him. He hoped Heihachi was listening. He hoped he was pissed off that Lars was more concerned about his son killing seven people than stupid data retrieval.

“Understood, Alpha Leader. It’s been a long night, we’ll talk details when you’re back to base. Out.”

Was that it? Was Heihachi even there? Had he seen? Did he know what his little foray into the so-called start-up and light-on-security G Corporation had cost them? Had he known there would be a chance Kazuya would be there? He’d given them nothing. Seven people were dead. More, if he counted the civilians they’d gunned down. Lars closed his eyes. A knee touched his – the gentlest of contact, but concerted, deliberate. He had Tougou. No one upstairs understood. No one gave a damn about who’d they’d lost here today, but he had Tougou. Lars leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

He was back in charge at the compound, seeing that the injured were transferred to their on-site hospital as dawn cracked grey over the prairie. Tougou’s injuries were mild compared to some, so Lars was doing rounds, checking on the others before he finally got to him.

“Fracture?” he asked. Their privacy was a curtain and a two-bed gap to the next patient. Far too small a distance for the proximity Lars would have liked.

“Have you checked yourself in?”

“I’m fine,” Lars said.

Tougou lifted a hand briefly to touch his jaw. Something there twinged and Lars’s winced.

“It’s nothing,” Lars waved him away dismissively. That hurt a little too.

Tougou held a hand out to him. Lars took it on instinct, armoured glove coming to rest in Tougou’s bare palm. Fingers sought out his wrist and applied pressure. Lars flinched and hissed in pain. Maybe Kazuya had done more damage than he first thought.

“Check yourself in and get an x-ray,” Tougou said sternly.

Lars sat down on the edge of Tougou’s hospital bed with a sigh.

“Can’t. Got a debrief in-…” All time-telling devices he’d had on him hadn’t survived the raid. He glanced over at the cabinet by Tougou’s bed where a small digital clock read 06:17. “-… thirteen minutes.”

“So soon? You haven’t slept…”

“Eh…” Lars stretched, raising his arms above his head until they clicked. He rotated his shoulders in the stiff armour. “Lost my temper a little earlier, haven’t actually given command a rundown of mission objectives. They had the gall to talk to me about data retrieval when I’ve got soldiers down.”

Tougou sighed. He nudged Lars’s good hand where it rested on the bed. Lars entwined a finger in his.

“So,” Lars continued, “am I allowed to hear the damage now?”

Tougou clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Femur fracture. I’m lucky it wasn’t worse the way that guy was throwing his weight around.”

Lars paused. There was no reason anyone else on his team would know Mishima Kazuya on sight. He’d had his heyday close to twenty years ago. Lars’s team was filled with young recruits who would have been small children in those days. The only reason he knew himself was due to hours of pouring over anything related to his father’s family. Lars passed a tongue over his lip, musing on that unlikely reunion. When he glanced up, Tougou was looking at him. His dark eyes were in that quiet, calculating place, evaluating him.

“You knew him?” Tougou asked.

Lars drew a breath in through his nose. He exhaled slowly and nodded. There was something terrible about it. There was something… unclean about divulging what all this was to him. People were dead. They were dead because Mishima Heihachi had sent the son he’d forgotten existed to fight the son he thought he’d killed. What in some families might have been revolved over dinner had instead created two floors of bodies. And if that look in Kazuya’s eye had been anything to judge by, this wasn’t likely to be the end of the violence.

“What happened out there? Did you take that guy alone? Is he dead?”

Lars shook his head. “No. Had to draw him out from that narrow corridor, and he’s an excellent fighter.”

“Better than you?”

There was no flattery in the sentence. Tougou rarely flattered. He was someone who valued straightforward honesty, like Lars himself. Lars weighed that question. He’d be lying if his pride wasn’t a little bit wounded at having been so soundly beaten.

“Probably. Certainly got one over on me today.”

Tougou sat up. “He did? Then you’re lucky to be here…”

Lars wasn’t keen for Tougou to hear quite how lucky he’d been. The sight of that gun pointed in his face wasn’t likely to be leaving his nightmares any time soon. He’d really escaped relatively unscathed, all things considered. Lars placed a thumb and forefinger to his eyes and fought off a yawn. His eyelids felt heavy.

“They going to release you soon?” he asked. “Or will you be in over-” The night was already over – “-…day.”

“I should just need a brace, the doctor said. There are others who need attention first, but hopefully I’ll be dismissed later. Not much more they can do for me here. Going to be a pain with recovery times though. I’ll probably be on comms for a few months…”

Lars’s face sunk into a scowl. “Hate being out there without you. Feels like going in blindfolded.”

“Nonsense, I’ll just be babysitting you from a little further back. You’ll hardly notice the difference.”

Lars gave a smirk, even though they both knew they’d feel the loss. Things just worked better when they could co-ordinate on the ground together. There was an unspoken symbiosis – things Lars didn’t have to worry about – like how the hell was he going to call down the choppers in time to evacuate when he’d gone into combat solo and smashed up his only radio. There was a kind of unspoken logic between them, and every time Lars had to work with someone else, he was so used to being read that he ran aground in dangerous ways. There were also certain… safety protocols Tougou impressed on him that Lars steamrolled over when they came from anyone else. He found his helmet irritating and stuffy and was liable to do missions without it unless pressed into taking it by Tougou. That helmet had saved his life a number of times this night…

And what would have happened if he’d had to start the mission after that abrasive conversation with Mishima Heihachi without Tougou to talk to? Going in full of all those conflicting emotions Heihachi had stirred in him? Lars was fire, burning bright, destructive; Tougou was his hearth – holding and containing all that fury, keeping it grounded. He was what made the difference between wildfire and a home to come back to. Sometimes Lars wondered what it would be like without that tether. He wondered what his temper would do to his superiors without Tougou to stop him snapping. He wondered what his squadrons would look like without the seamless transfer of leadership that happened between them. He wondered what he’d be like alone, after the fight, as he agonised over things like meaning, and death, and the young lives lost on his watch, under his command, for reasons he found wanting, and ideals that he increasingly struggled to see eye-to-eye with. Who would that Lars be… the one who struggled with his own company in the long hours of darkness? What would the sun do if there was no moon to watch over the twilight hours in its stead? What relief could there be if there were no cool shade to rest in – no shadows to compliment the constant blaze of light?

“Lars.”

Lars looked up, blinking.

“It’s just a broken leg.”

Crimson stole over Lars’s features. “Hah. Sure. I know that.”

Tougou glanced about the room, checking they were unseen, then he raised a hand to Lars’s cheek. His thumb brushed light over Lars’s skin.

“I’ll be back with you before you know it. Now go take that call, you’ll feel better once it’s out of the way.”

Lars sighed. He wished he could take off the mantle of captain for the evening and settle into Tougou’s attentive care. He nudged a little deeper into that hand at his cheek.

“I still want to put my fist through whoever that was on comms earlier…” he muttered.

“Be nice. That guy probably had a hellish evening too with Mishima-Kaicho breathing down his neck. He didn’t even have the luxury of cutting him off by smashing up a radio.”

Lars gave a laugh at that and felt bolder. It was easier to dispel his temper when he felt empathy.

“Yeah, I guess. It would suck to have their job.” He stood, reluctantly drawing out of Tougou’s touch. “Catch you later, then.”

“And remember to get a check-up here after your call!”

Lars waved that off vaguely.

Lars sat himself in the empty officers’ common room, rotating his injured wrist very slowly as he waited for the call to pick up. He gave his name, rank, and number when it did, then sat with one leg crossed idly over the other as he waited to be routed to the right channels. He rarely visited this common room. He’d been stationed in the USA for some time, but he despised these rank-divided facilities, and always avoided this one as a point of pride. If he wanted to spend time with others, it was his rank-and-file troops, not a jumped-up group of well-educated officers who thought their degree of removal from the battlefield made them less culpable for the actions committed there. Actually, there were a number of officers who’d risen through the ranks like him and he liked well enough, but still he never lost an opportunity to bond with his own squadrons if it arose.

Right now was different though. He needed silence as well as space, and half six in the morning in this common room gave him both. He’d stoked the embers of an old fire in the hearth to life, and lay stretched on a deep brown leather couch as he counted off the seconds.

“Captain Lars Alexandersson?”

“Reporting.”

“Very good. Your run down please, Captain. An official report will also need to be filed. It should be written up and be with us no later than 10AM JST.”

“I’ll get the report to you,” Lars said. He kept an absolute calm. He was determined just to give a clean account then get some sleep.

“Very well. Go ahead, Captain.”

“Tekken Force First Special Forces Operational Group raided G Corporation’s Nebraska research outpost at 0300 hours. I selected just two squadrons from the group to carry out the mission. Alpha Squadron was headed by myself. Romeo Squadron was led by Tougou Isamu. Entry was executed as planned. Floor fourteen of the target research tower was secured and data download from computer lab located there commenced on schedule. Romeo Squadron headed to floor thirteen, expecting minimal resistance. Hostiles were met however on both floors. All were neutralised until a hostile identified as Mishima Kazuya was encountered on floor thirteen.”

“Repeat that last sentence, please, Captain.”

“All hostiles neutralised until Mishima Kazuya was encountered on floor thirteen.”

Silence.

Lars stared into the open fire. It was a luxury in these bare compounds. He had precious few chances to sit like this before crackling logs and their white embers. They made him think of home – cold nights close to the Arctic Circle, where the daylight hours shrank until the sun only moved a handspan across the sky. The logs back home were almost always pine and had filled home with such a subtle fragrance. He didn’t know what wood this was. Not pine. Some hardwood maybe, since it had barely caught.

“Mishima Kazuya.”

“That’s right,” Lars said, losing himself in the flames.

“Are you quite certain, Captain.”

“Ask Mishima-Kaicho. He had a live feed and saw it all himself.”

A hesitation. They always hesitated when rank came into a report, and nothing made someone hesitate more than Heihachi’s name. He could hardly blame them.

“Alright… Go on, Captain.”

Lars tilted his head back on the leather. It squeaked slightly.

“Mishima Kazuya’s appearance stalled our advance. Romeo Squadron was incapacitated, and it became impossible to retrieve test samples. I ordered a full retreat after extracting squad members who were still alive. The retreat resulted in the premature withdrawal of our data-jacker from the mainframe on floor fourteen, corrupting all data downloaded, and resulting in a loss of all information.”

Another silence.

“So no data was retrieved from this mission, Captain?”

“That is correct.”

“This is a disastrous report, Captain.”

“It is,” Lars agreed. His voice was still mild, he kept his gaze resting on the fire. The soft lick of those flames kept his temper cool.

“You were informed, Captain, that there may be a total data corruption if the data-jacker was withdrawn prematurely.”

“I was.”

“And on what grounds did you withdraw the data-jacker prior to required download time?”

“On the grounds that remaining in the building could result in significant further loss of life.”

Another pause in which Lars tried to keep his grinding teeth from being too audible.

“Write that report up in full, Captain. I’ll take the casualty numbers now.”

“Seven dead, all Romeo Squadron. Eight more injured, ranging from minor to major injuries. All eight injuries were extracted and brought home. No further casualties sustained beyond the initial ambush.”

“Very good. Any further additions, Captain?”

A log snapped and shot a ream of brilliant red gold sparks up like a jet. It crackled in its new resting place and glowed brighter.

“Yes, I would like to put in a request.”

A sigh came. Lars had something of a reputation in the upper circles of the Zaibatsu. “Go on.”

“I’d like to request that G Corporation be petitioned to send over the bodies of the seven soldiers we lost in the raid.”

“I think that a highly unlikely request to be granted, Captain. Our soldiers know what they sign up for, and their families know that there may be bodies that must be mourned, and on occasion, a lack of a body to be mourned.”

“With all due respect, sir, G Corporation are growing something of a reputation when it comes to experimentation. If what I saw in those laboratories is anything to go by, that includes human experimentation. Our soldiers deserve better than to end up in one of their wretched concoctions.”

A pause.

“I will note your concern, Captain. Is that all?”

Lars closed his eyes. He took a moment, then sighed. He was confident he’d made the right decision in pulling his troops out when he did, but it still stung to have nothing to show for it.

“Can I ask how the sister mission in Nepal went? Did we get anything?”

“We did. It was a resounding success. Airlifted most of a computer lab out intact.”

They at least hadn’t botched the joint strike then. Lars expelled another huff air. He tilted his head all the way back and touched his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.

“Get some sleep, Captain. There are going to be a lot of follow-up questions on this mission, I’m sure.”

Lars sat a while after the call ended. He sat until the log in the fireplace crumbled down to brittle charcoal and broke apart, scattering its embers from gold to orange. He watched until all those orange eyes winked out and the hearth went dark. Then he got up and took the stairs up to his room. He set to the ritual of unstrapping his armour, taking it off piece by piece in silence. There were parts of himself he deconstructed as he did this, like a shell being shed. Practical composure and the rush of adrenaline finally faded, until he was just left with the events that had transpired and himself.

He stripped down until he was just in a pair of briefs, then looked down at himself. He turned his arms over. His skin was a map of new bruises. He went over to a mirror and turned on a sidelight. A welt of a bruise was smarting purple across his chin. He could feel a whiplash ache in his neck too from that kick he’d taken to the face. Drawing back his hair revealed some nasty cuts he’s sustained as Kazuya obliterated part of his helmet. That wrist he hadn’t got looked at was swelling up as well. He should at least see to it himself. Instead, he collapsed back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling.

Morning light was crawling into the bedroom, turning the room into various shades of cold blue, and forcing deep shadows to move amidst the gloom. He felt a chill, but he didn’t draw up the blanket. Instead, he let a shiver roll across him. He turned to lie on his side and stare at nothing. His cheek on the pillow felt strange, surreal. As grey half-light suffused the room, he felt he was suspended between the real and the imaginary. He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, with cool sunshine growing across him and the night’s events playing over again and again in his mind.

He became aware of a warmth at his back and startled out of his reverie.

“You’re freezing,” Tougou murmured, drawing the blankets up over them both. He shifted with a pained difficulty, but pressed up close to Lars’s back, so that the curves of their bodies aligned.

Lars expelled a breath like he’d been holding it for hours. His eyes at last closed. He shivered as fingers ghosted over his arms, idly moving over his muscles, then tracing over the veins in his forearm. They paused near his wrist.

“You didn’t see the nurses over this?”

Lars shook his head minutely. The bed creaked as Tougou moved behind him. Lars made a noise of complaint as his warmth left him.

“You’re injured,” Lars murmured. “Leave it… I’ll do it in the morning,”

“It is the morning.”

The mattress lifted as Tougou got up. Lars gave a huff, not moving from where he lay. He felt a prickle of guilt as he heard Tougou’s gaited walk to the bathroom. When he returned, Tougou sat down behind him and gently lifted up his arm. A cool wet towel was placed on his wrist. Lars expelled a breath of relief as the aching pain subsided. He offered no further complaint, closing his eyes as he felt Tougou’s fingers against his skin, working to wrap the wrist with a splint and bandage. His arm was laid back on the bed when it was wrapped. The pain felt more contained and subdued.

Lars’s shoulders untensed. His hair was brushed from his face with a hand. He shivered at the caress, relaxing deeper into the mattress. His eyes blinked open when the wet towel was set to the bruise at his chin, then dabbed at the cuts on his cheek. He turned a little, looking up at Tougou. Tougou’s eyes were warm and dark, and the diffusing shadows on his face settled Lars, like he’d finally come home. He lay still as his wounds were seen to, until he was certain that Tougou knew far more than he about the injuries he’d sustained.

He huffed as a hand returned to his hair, stroking it back. “Aren’t you done yet? It’s cold without you.”

“Mm, I’m done. Just looking now.”

Lars turned, cheeks reddening. He reached with his injured hand and punched lightly toward Tougou’s chest. Tougou caught his hand before it connected. He kissed the back of it, making Lars redden further and huff louder.

“Don’t ruin all my hard work, Captain.”

Lars’s eyes slid to him then, warmer and a little hungrier at that term of address. He pushed his hand out of Tougou’s to catch at the back of his neck and hook there, drawing him down towards him.

“Lars, we-”

“Oh, it’s back to just Lars now?”

Lars pulled him until their brows touched. He moved his hand round so that he could use his thumb to nudge Tougou’s chin up. He sought his lips with his and pressed his own to them hard. He nudged at them, seeking entry with his tongue. After a moment’s delay, Tougou’s lips parted for him, and Lars pressed a tongue hungrily into his mouth. Tougou had to right his weight as he leaned over. Soft sounds of surprised appreciation escaped him as Lars curled his tongue around his, losing himself in the intimacy of the kiss’s warmth and sensation.

Tougou drew back after a moment, a little out of breath as he looked down at Lars. He wiped off a trail of saliva that joined them.

“We should rest,” he murmured, trying to catch his breath.

Lars rolled his eyes. “Don’t need to rest.”

“We both need to rest. Especially you. There’ll be a lot of work tomorrow, and you’ve had a long night.”

“Could be longer…” Lars whispered, setting Tougou with an unabashed look of want.

It was Tougou’s turn to redden now. Lars released him though, and helped him as he moved to lie more comfortably on the bed. Tougou winced as he settled his fractured leg.

“That bastard really did a number on me.”

Lars gave a small grimace at the irony of that statement.

Tougou glanced at him. “What?”

Lars shook his head. “Another time.”

He drew the blankets up over them, then turned to face Tougou in bed, shaking hair out of his eyes. He reached out a hand and touched Tougou’s face, brushing a thumb down an old scar there. His face sobered as he did.

“I’m sorry I was as slow getting to your side today,” he said softly.

Tougou leaned his cheek into that hand. His eyes drifted to part closed. Lars could feel his breath warming his wrist, joining his pulse there.

“You weren’t slow,” Tougou said. “You did everything perfectly, and thanks to you we had a highly successful extraction.”

Lars’s gaze dropped, eyebrows descending too.

“We could easily have lost everyone tonight,” Tougou murmured. “There are twenty-three people who got back here safely thanks to your quick thinking.”

Only Tougou could look at a mission outcome like this and see the positives.

“If I’d come when you first encountered hostiles-”

“Then you might not have succeeded in holding the fourteenth floor, and none of us would have gotten out.” Tougou reached out a hand and laid it on Lars’s chest, over his heart.

“You were a hero today, even though no one at the top will understand that. But I’ll never forget, and the people who were with you today will never forget. That counts for far more than what the brass will mark this down as in their records.”

Lars gave another heavy sigh. He agreed, of course, but it still grated on him.

He and Tougou lay in the half-dark. A single warble of bird song filtered into the room. Lars’s gaze stayed wandering, then he spoke quietly, in a small admission that betrayed some of his disappointment.

“Mishima Heihachi said he cared a lot about the outcome of this mission…”

Tougou sought out his good hand and squeezed his fingers.

“There’ll be other times to impress him,” he returned, equally quiet.

Lars scowled and his eyes flashed in annoyance. He didn’t contest that though. It just injured his pride to admit he’d wanted to impress Heihachi. He let his irritability subside and some of those smaller, more vulnerable emotions dance into his forethoughts.

“… It sounded really important to him. He said something like… I could earn his praise or scrutiny.” Lars closed his eyes tight. “Waited so many stupid years to have him speak one-on-one to me, and it winds up being over a radio. Of all the missions to go wrong-… Of all the reasons for it to go wrong. There’s not going to be a chance for me anymore, not now that he’s back.”

Lars opened his eyes. Tougou was looking at him, questioning, but leaving space for him not to elaborate. Lars sighed again.

“Mishima Kazuya,” he whispered. “Heihachi’s son. Son with a capital ‘s’, not like-…” Now he sounded petulant and childish. He glanced away.

“Wait-… Mishima Kazuya? I thought he died years ago? Wasn’t he the head of the Zaibatsu at some point? He was involved in some shady business, crime empires or something. How can he be alive?”

Lars shrugged, just a little sullen that the topic of Kazuya was even absorbing Tougou’s attention.

“Heihachi seemed pretty surprised too. Maybe he’ll be too caught up in this revelation to come after me with consequences for screwing up his plans.”

“Your long-lost brother is revealed alive and all you can think is that he’ll monopolise your father’s attention?”

Lars fell silent. It did sound ridiculous when Tougou put it like that. He’d watched Kazuya on news broadcasts as a child. When news of his death circulated, the easiest thing to do had been to compartmentalise that off. He’d never known the man, so no need to have any complex feelings over the matter. If he was going to meet any brother, he’d always assumed it would be Heihachi’s adopted son. Unless he was dead too. Lars had certainly seen nothing of him. Heihachi had been doting on his grandson for years before they went their separate ways, but nothing about his sons… Lars knew something bad had gone down between Heihachi and his grandson, and he had felt some sympathy for the boy when he learned he was on the run. The Zaibatsu wasn’t an easy thing to outrun. He’d stayed here though, loyal to Tekken Force, … loyal to Heihachi. And it would be a lie if a small part of him hadn’t thought that, without any other family around, perhaps Heihachi might be more inclined to reconnect with the son he’d all but forgotten about.

The better part of his heart twinged, and he regretted those immediate thoughts. “I guess it does come off as pretty heartless.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far, the man did shatter my leg. Did he have some kind of implant in his eyes? I could have sworn one was glowing…”

“There was a lot going on in that building, so I wouldn’t be surprised,” Lars mused. He hadn’t really had time to think over the odd set up G Corporation had in there. “Human uh- experimentation type things. That lab next to the corridor I found you in… There were definitely human remains floating about in there...”

Tougou blinked. “You think it was like a hospital? Growing things to help people? Transplants and the like?”

“I sincerely hope so. Gave me a very sinister feeling though. I just hope our lost soldiers don’t wind up as test subjects. They at least deserve to rest when they’re dead.”

The weight of the lives lost tonight fell heavy on Lars again. He shivered. Tougou squeezed his good hand.

"I'm being insensitive,” Lars murmured, “talking about pittances when you lost half your squadron out there tonight-"

Tougou stilled him with a finger to his lips. Even the touch of it pulled Lars out of darkness into quiet reverence. It was impossible not to think of how that finger felt, resting light against his lips.

"There will be time enough to grieve.” Tougou set him with those steadfast dark eyes, always unshakeable, always just where Lars needed them. “This isn't the first time I've lost good people. For now, this is a moment for you. It's alright to share your unhappinesses with me. No one's counting which sorrow is greater and more worthy of comfort."

Lars swallowed. When he spoke, his lips brushed against Tougou’s finger. "You always put me first. As soon as it's just us, I have all these burdens that I-"

"Every hour of the day, the concerns of others are your priority, Lars, including mine. It's alright that you can have a little time to be cared for. Let me stand between you and the world and shelter you a little from its gaze. They will manage in the dark for a short while, while you find reprieve."

Tougou lifted his hand and brushed flyaway hair out of his eyes. The uncertainties lingering in Lars calmed at his touch. It was easy to let it all drift away then. Yesterdays, todays, tomorrows… all that mattered was the present. A smile stole onto Lars’s face.

"You should have been a poet or something. You always have these grand words for everything. Maybe you should be the one doing all the motivational speeches out there."

"Hardly,” Tougou said, intently now trying to brush a lock of hair behind Lars’s ear that would not comply. “I'm told I'm far too clinical to be motivational."

"I said that one time.” Lars rolled his eyes. “Because you sent a team off with – what was it you said to them? 'There’s a calculated ten percent chance of success, so it's by no means impossible'."

"I actually said fifteen percent, and that was an accurate assessment compiled by the new analysis team that-"

"Tougou..."

"I fail to see what the problem was! I’d want to know the risks of a mission before I went out on it..."

Lars shook his head, ruining Tougou’s attempt to flatten his unruly hair. "But the parting words as they leave base? I swear... How can someone who's so observant be so oblivious..."

"I can't tell if you're complimenting me or not, but I do know you need to shut up. You've got hours at best before you have to report in again. Get some sleep. Please."

Lars smirked and shuffled his face a little closer, until his nose nearly touched Tougou’s.

"Well, since my lieutenant asked so nicely..."

"Lars..."

"What?" Lars asked, all innocence.

Tougou gave a huff. He closed the distance between them though and placed a gentle kiss to Lars's lips. A deep sigh escaped Lars and he left off his teasing. Tougou brushed a hand back through his hair and Lars bowed his head to Tougou's shoulder. An arm was brought round, curling about his head, and creating a small, safe darkness.

Lars exhaled long and deep, mind finally absent of ambitions, worries, and regrets. He closed his eyes in Tougou's embrace and finally drifted off into sleep.