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Xiaoyu had always thought the relief would outweigh everything else. When she’d seen Jin, still safe and in one piece, winning his tournament matches, she’d been overjoyed. They were so close now, his position at the Zaibatsu, that slow march to his own destruction, all the secrecy and hiding, none of that stood between them anymore. All there was now was distance, and distance that would be closed shortly, if Jin continued into the tournament. In some way– which she regretted now– she was thankful for Kazuya. Thankful he’d be the reason Jin would finally be coming to her. She’d asked Zafina and Claudio if she could tag along, but she’d never let a “no” stop her either way.
She was overjoyed. Really. Despite all the chaos, despite what had happened to Zafina, despite the power that Kazuya was now in control of, she felt happy. They were finally together again, and Jin wouldn’t be running from her this time. He had no reason to. But with the feeling eventually came a strange pit in her chest alongside it. An emptiness. Things were far from done, and only getting more and more complicated, Xiaoyu knew this. She didn’t have the time to be selfish. Jin needed her again, and the world needed Jin. But where had Jin been when she needed him? What had he done to the world…?
At first, Xiaoyu didn’t want to believe that Jin would do all of the terrible things she’d heard about on the news, on every website, on electronic billboards all around the cities she’d been in. There was no place she could look without being reminded of him, and all those that suffered under him. The Jin she knew was sweet, soft spoken, caring. The Jin she knew always took the time to be careful of nature, had spoken to her at times about the balance of the world and how it was everyone’s duty to protect it; from the smallest blade of grass to the mightiest oak, from a single insect to the whales in the ocean. The Jin she saw on wanted posters was a different man entirely from the one she’d known before.
It had to be someone else. It had to be.
She hadn’t asked about that. It seemed inconsiderate to bring up while they were among others. And Jin hadn’t offered an explanation. Why would he, though. Maybe he never even thought of her in those times. Maybe she hadn’t been on his mind nearly as much as he was on hers. The emptiness in her chest grew a little more when she thought of that. It made her feel selfish, again.
They were alone now. Alone for the first time in what felt like a very long time. Xiaoyu, somehow, didn’t know what to say. After all the time she’d spent missing him so much it was hard to sleep, all the ways she’d been put in danger looking for him, all the near-misses, the things she’d missed out on in her life because Jin had been her priority instead, she didn’t know what to say. In all of her fantasies that felt childish and far away now, she’d thought their reunion would be– what? Romantic, maybe? Did he even feel that way about her? Is that how she felt, after everything?
She looks up at him, and he looks tired. He keeps his eyes ahead, on the forest path. He’d never been one for starting up conversations. Of course Xiaoyu remembered that. It had been charming to her, before. Now it just felt lonely.
She looks back at Panda, who always seemed to know how she was feeling or what she was thinking. Panda had always been by her side, always looking out for her. It felt like maybe she was forcing Panda to enable her, even when she knew the path Xiaoyu was on was dangerous, and might have led her somewhere she could never come back from. She appreciated everything Panda did for her, and now it only felt like she’d never shown enough of that appreciation.
The thought gives Xiaoyu the courage to stop. Jin stops, too, a few steps after her. He takes a moment to look back, his expression almost unreadable. Xiaoyu steels herself, keeps making eye contact with him even when it gets more and more difficult by the second. As though she was seeing deeper into those eyes with every moment that passed.
“...I spent a lot of time chasing after you.”
Jin knew as much. Or…maybe Xiaoyu hoped he knew as much. Cruel was probably the word for it. It would be cruel if after all her efforts he was unaware, but wouldn’t it also be cruel if he knew and did nothing?
“I… I know you were worried about me. I’m sorry.”
Jin is the one that looks away first. The apology sounds practiced, genuine in a somehow simultaneously empty way. Something he’s had to say hundreds of thousands of times and each time it meant less and less. Just words. Words that couldn’t do much of anything. And they didn’t. Xiaoyu didn’t feel anything from them.
“You’re sorry… Is that all?”
Another moment passed. Jin takes time to look at her again. It’s an almost helpless look this time. Xiaoyu supposes that was fair enough, all things considered. Words couldn’t change the past, apologies couldn’t give her back all the time she’d spent worrying over him. But it seemed as though he had no explanation for her, either. No way for her to at least understand why she’d had to put herself through so much. Why she’d missed out on the chance to do so many things and make so many other connections all for him. Xiaoyu looks at the trees around them. The forest was so beautiful, peaceful, why did it feel like this, then?
“I missed out on a lot… Not just between us– even though I missed you– but I could have gotten to know people better. I could have gone to university and studied something. I guess… a lot of people didn’t get to go to school after–”
She stops, looks up at Jin. He’s looking at her again but his expression has gotten darker. He looks away. She starts wishing she hadn’t said anything from the beginning.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to– I mean, I know you didn’t–...”
Xiaoyu isn’t sure how to finish that thought. She didn’t know, really. She tried to know and tried to understand, tried to wrap her head around all the evil Jin had done in the time they were apart. Maybe, in her mind, she had separated that Jin from the one she knew. Maybe she hadn’t come to terms with him being able to do something so awful.
She had to get rid of that separation now, though. The Jin in front of her had done those things. That was where all of his remorse seemed to stem from. She had to speak her mind now before something else happened that kept them apart all over again. She steels herself, looking at Jin again.
“No. I don’t know what you were thinking at the time, and I shouldn’t pretend I do. A lot of people were hurt, Jin. Not just me, not just the people around you. People all over the world were hurt, and they’re still hurting… I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why I couldn’t see you, and why you would do all of this. You were always so kind…”
The wind had picked up slightly. It was still just above a gentle breeze, just enough that the branches of the trees around them swayed. Birds unsettled somewhere, a flock of them flew overhead.
“I thought it was the right thing to do…”
The right thing to do.
Those words seem to get picked up by the wind like the leaves had. That was what Xiaoyu had hoped for, in some ways. What he’d done hadn’t been out of malice or evil, it was what he’d thought was the right path, just as Xiaoyu had felt chasing after him was her own path. It was something he’d regretted now. The Jin that existed before now still existed within him.
The silences were getting heavier. Panda seemed to sense as much too, coming up beside Xiaoyu and moving her head underneath her hand, nudging her slightly to one side. Xiaoyu looked down at her. It was much easier than trying to see Jin through everything she had to think of now.
“There were always so many things I wanted to talk to you about. So many questions I wanted to ask that I couldn't.”
With every fight, every place she’d had to sneak herself into, all the times she’d narrowly escaped some kind of danger, Xiaoyu remembered what it was she would ask Jin. She thought she’d memorized the very first thing she’d say to him, too, but things always had a way of working out differently from how they should have. She takes a few steps closer to Jin, who was still looking away from her.
“I didn’t think the person I was seeing all over the news was really you. I thought the only way to make sure was to see for myself.”
Jin comes to his full height, seems to take a deep breath and look up at the sky through the canopy of trees. The rays that break through catch on the jagged designs along the shoulders of his jacket.
“It was me. I won’t ever turn away from that again. Those things I did– even if I thought it would lead to a better future– they were wrong. I was wrong. I failed, and it led to all those lives being lost for nothing.”
He turned back to Xiaoyu again. His eyes were still hard, but this time it was with a spark of determination, fitting itself in alongside the despair and regret, threatening to burn brighter, but not quite there yet.
“I’m going to make things right, and end the suffering once and for all. I promise. –And I promise I’ll never turn my back on you again. I’m really, truly sorry, Xiao.”
His apology feels different this time. Before it had been practiced, something that was difficult for him even when he’d done it hundreds of times before. Words that had been so worn out from use that the veil of them having a deeper meaning had vanished and they were left bare. The exact answers Xiaoyu had wanted for so long would likely not come to her. Her understanding would always be incomplete, just as it was for Jin. What seemed right in the moment, what made sense when everything was confusing, those kinds of things were never easy to explain.
Jin was here now, and trying. He was next to her again, and promised not to leave. He was fixing things and starting with what he could reach where he could reach it. Xiaoyu was here to help him, the way she’d always wanted to be. Maybe if she had been there sooner, she could have stopped it all from happening. Or maybe she never had the power to sway him that way. The what-ifs didn’t matter anymore. Righting wrongs began with moving forward.
Xiaoyu starts walking again, feeling lighter already, even with the battle that still loomed over them. Something was off of her chest now that had been weighing on her for so long, and it made anything feel possible. She turns on her heel to look back at Jin, walking backwards down the path. Jin watches her for a moment, still, as though he'd been waiting for more questions or accusations or a rejection of his apology. When nothing else comes, he hurries to catch up with her again, already looking more like the Jin Xiaoyu had known before.
“Do you remember what we used to talk about when we were kids? Our dreams for the future? … What was it you used to dream of, Jin?”