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Kazuya was no expert on sealife, not when it was still living and breathing instead of being served on a plate in front of him and worth thousands of yen. He couldn’t tell a live salmon from a swimming tuna, could only recognize snapper from hearing about their brilliant crimson scales, koi from the thousands he’d seen in decorative ponds with so many different colors and patterns they were almost dizzying under the surface of the water. Jin was different from him. Jin was like Jun.
Jin was confident on his feet now, old enough to run and jump and speak. And he loved speaking, at least when it was about the things he already understood so much of. It was a wonder to see. So many of the things Jin could tell him were things Kazuya would have never dreamed of knowing at his age. Names of birds and plants and all sorts of animals that busied themselves in the trees of the forests nearby, all the things Jun knew and had taught Jin in Kazuya’s absence. Things she was still teaching him, things she had started teaching Kazuya, too, before he’d left.
Jin is crouched in the shallows closest to the shore, focused hard on the sand by his feet being washed away by the waves. He isn’t far enough in for it to be an issue, and wasn’t confident enough in his swimming yet to go much further, but Kazuya watches intently from the shore nonetheless. He’d finally warmed up to Kazuya, after he’d returned. He’d left before Jin was even old enough to form any memories of him. Had so many other matters that seemed so important, overwhelming, suffocating. But it all disappeared into the fresh air when Kazuya had returned. It had dissolved into the sea, had flown away with the whisper of wind through the treetops.
It still didn’t feel real, to be so relaxed, not having to look over his shoulder every moment for Heihachi’s oppressive figure, not being so fueled by his hatred and the desire for power that felt necessary to survive. Fear, Jun had called it. Kazuya wasn’t ready to admit to fear having any place in him. It mattered little now. He had a family, something he never even imagined having. They had a comfortable home and a comfortable life, free of all those things that were so far away now.
Jin had taken time to really trust him. Once Jun had properly introduced him, there was wonder and hesitance in Jin’s expression all at once. Jin looked like her, and everyone told Kazuya that Jin looked like him, too. Kazuya couldn’t see it. Was glad he saw none of himself in Jin. Jin deserved better.
Out in the water, Jin sees something, going even more still than he’d already been. Kazuya pays a little more attention to him from where he is. Jin grabs something, careful, then turns towards the shore just slightly. He waits, unsure, then stands up and turns to walk closer, little hands cupped together around something Kazuya can’t quite see yet. Jin’s eyes are focused downward, he’s trying to keep his footing in the softer sands as they shift with the tides, and he looks determined. Once he’s close enough, he only looks up at Kazuya, eyes still determined. They flicker a moment, though, and he lifts his cupped hands up for Kazuya to see.
It doesn’t look real at first, like some toy or a piece of plastic that had drifted off into the sea and washed up ashore. It’s a blue unlike anything Kazuya had ever seen outside of expensive silk, clothing hidden away in a wardrobe that he was only allowed to touch with express permission. When Kazuya realizes it is something alive, he wonders if something that bright isn’t poisonous, if it should be handled at all. Jin is sure, though. Jin would know more about the thing than him. Kazuya kneels down to get a closer look at it, and Jin’s eyes light up.
"What is that?"
Jin pulls the creature in closer, looking at it with wonder.
“A sea star.”
He grabs one of the thing’s appendages between his fingers, it looks stiff, like it had died already. Kazuya hopes it hadn’t. He was never good at figuring out what to do when Jin was upset by something…
“Sometimes there’s a lot of them on the beach. They don’t move fast. They eat sponges and algae.” He holds it out again. “Do you want to hold it?”
Kazuya isn’t immediately sure what the correct answer is. He doesn’t. Steadfastly. But saying no now might be another thing that would upset the boy. He takes a closer look at the creature– the sea star. It doesn’t look particularly offensive to the touch, but he’s still surprised Jin is handling it without issue. He’d always been particular about textures.
He decides to avoid the question, distract Jin instead.
“What else do you know about them?”
Jin picks up on the diversion, but luckily his interest in the sea star takes precedence over any sort of upset. He moves the sea star around in his hand.
“They can, um…” He pauses to look for a word. “When one of their legs comes off, it can come back.”
Diversion or no, the statement surprises Kazuya, and the visible shock on his face seems to be enough to lighten Jin’s mood again.
“Is that so…”
He definitely doesn’t want to touch the sea star now. But he’s at least interested in the thing more than he had been initially. Small and startlingly blue, a shape that looked too unique and out of place to have been made by nature alone, capable of small and amazing things. He looks up at Jin again and the boy is smiling. Content. Happy.
Kazuya knew little about nature and little about being a father. A good father, at the very least. But neither seemed too complex for him. There would be hard times, times where it felt like nothing made sense, where it felt like his decisions were the wrong ones and he was falling into the same patterns he’d been raised under. But he would always have someone to turn to now, someone he could trust and who trusted him. Somewhere safe.
He very carefully touches one of the legs of the sea star.
“It’s getting late, we should put him back in the water so we can go back for dinner.”
Jin nods, still smiling. Kazuya follows him back to the shallows and watches him gingerly place the sea star back into the water. Jin waves a little as the water starts carrying it further in. They both watch it until its vibrant blue disappears in the deeper blues and greens of the sea.