Touhou: DEATH

by Itz_Katz

Summary:

Kazuya Mishima, Having defeated his son Jin Kazama, and his father, Heihachi Mishima. Sets out to take down Junko and claim the Mishima Zaibatsu as his own. However, more conflicts arise despite how simple and successful Kazuya deems his plans to be.

Chapter 1: STRINGS OF DESTINY

Summary:

After defeating Heihachi Mishima, And his son Jin Kazama, Kazuya Mishima turns his attention to Gensyoko, a mystical land where he believes Junko, a powerful and sinister figure, played a role in his mother's death. Determined to eliminate her and end the madness that has plagued his life, Kazuya relinquishes his Japanese nationality and heads to Gensyoko.

Kazuya, despite his injuries from the battle with Heihachi, tracks down Junko. Their confrontation is intense, with Kazuya accusing her of being an accomplice to Heihachi's deeds and responsible for his mother's death. Junko mocks Kazuya, confident in her centuries-long experience and strength. The two exchange heated words, revealing their deep-seated grievances and pain. However, more meets the eye than to conflict.

Having defeated Heihachi Mishima, Kazuya Mishima felt no triumph—only the gnawing realization that the madness he endured had roots deeper than he imagined. His search for answers led him to Gensokyo, a land veiled in mystery and brimming with power. It was here that he set his sights on Junko, a figure he suspected of orchestrating his mother’s death alongside Heihachi. Relinquishing his ties to Japan, Kazuya resolved to walk into the heart of Gensokyo and finish what had begun.

Kazuya trudged along the forest path, his steps heavy yet resolute. The aftermath of his battle with Heihachi had left his body scarred and weary, but his thirst for vengeance burned brighter than the pain. Gensokyo loomed ahead, its strange aura both foreboding and magnetic. As he approached, he felt an unsettling energy. She was here.

The forest gave way to an open glade where Junko stood waiting. Her long, golden hair flowed like molten sunlight, and her crimson eyes gleamed with an unsettling mix of amusement and disdain. She regarded Kazuya as one might a curious insect.

"Ah, Kazuya Mishima," Junko’s voice was melodic yet sharp, like a blade cloaked in silk. "The prodigal son who ended his father’s wretched existence. Tell me, do you seek death, or are you simply foolish enough to challenge forces beyond your comprehension?"

Kazuya’s fists clenched, his glare unwavering. “Junko,” he growled, his voice echoing with unbridled rage, “you’re the reason my mother died. Heihachi Mishima is dead, and now you will share his fate."

Junko laughed, a sound that reverberated through the clearing, mocking and cold. "Your arrogance is almost endearing. But you’re mistaken if you think you can stand against me. You’re nothing more than a broken man chasing vengeance."

Kazuya stepped forward, the ground trembling slightly beneath him. "Your son’s death doesn’t excuse the blood you’ve spilled," he spat. "You’ve wrought destruction for centuries. Your time is over."

Junko’s smile faltered for a brief moment, her eyes glinting with a flicker of sorrow before her expression hardened. “Don’t presume to lecture me on loss, Mishima,” she said, her voice low and venomous. “Feng Bo’s death shaped me, yes. But it didn’t break me. You, on the other hand, are already shattered.”

The rain began to fall, soft at first but quickly intensifying into a relentless downpour. It soaked the earth, creating a battlefield as tumultuous as the emotions roiling between them. Kazuya’s glowing red eye pierced the gloom, its light reflecting his unwavering determination.

"Enough talk," Kazuya snarled. “I’ll drag you to hell myself.”

Junko’s smirk returned, feral and predatory. "By all means, try."

The two charged at each other, fists colliding with an explosive force that shattered the ground beneath them. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the air, scattering rain and debris. The clearing was instantly transformed into a cratered arena shrouded in a dense fog of dust and steam.

Junko emerged from the haze, her sinister grin unshaken. "Not bad, Mishima," she taunted, flexing her fingers as though the blow had merely been a warm-up. “But I hope you have more than brute strength to offer.”

Kazuya surged forward, his movements a blur despite his injuries. His first punch was blocked, but the follow-up struck Junko’s gut with bone-crushing force. She stumbled back, coughing as blood trickled from her mouth.

“You’re stronger than you look,” she admitted, her tone laced with grudging respect. “But strength alone won’t save you.”

Junko retaliated with a series of rapid strikes, her fists a blur of lethal precision. Kazuya dodged and countered, the clash of their blows echoing like thunder in the storm. Neither gave an inch, their movements relentless despite the toll the fight took on their bodies. Rain mixed with blood as the battle raged on.

Kazuya’s glowing eye flared brighter as his anger surged. With a guttural roar, he transformed into his Devil Form, black wings unfurling as dark energy radiated from his body. Junko narrowed her eyes, her expression betraying a flicker of unease.

“So, this is your true power,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm of energy swirling around her. “Impressive. But it won’t be enough.”

Kazuya unleashed a barrage of laser beams from his third eye, each streaking toward Junko with deadly precision. She dodged most, but one grazed her shoulder, tearing through flesh and fabric. Gritting her teeth, she charged forward, leaping into the air to meet him head-on. Their clash mid-air sent shockwaves rippling through the rain-soaked battlefield.

Kazuya caught Junko mid-flight, gripping her tightly before slamming her into the ground with earth-shattering force. The impact created another crater, and for a moment, Junko lay motionless, battered and bruised. But as Kazuya descended to deliver the final blow, her eyes snapped open, burning with defiance.

She rolled aside at the last moment, retaliating with a desperate energy blast that sent Kazuya staggering back. Struggling to her feet, she wiped blood from her lips and fixed him with a glare of unyielding determination.

“You’re strong, Mishima,” she admitted, her voice hoarse yet steady. “But strength means nothing without resolve. Do you even understand what you’re fighting for?”

Kazuya didn’t respond. He charged once more, his fists blazing with energy as the rain poured harder, obscuring the battlefield. The two combatants clashed again and again, their movements a blur of fury and skill. Each strike was a test of their will, their bodies pushed to the brink as the storm raged around them.

Finally, Kazuya found an opening. His fist connected with Junko’s jaw in a devastating uppercut, sending her sprawling to the ground. She lay there, motionless, her breathing shallow. Kazuya stood over her, his devilish form towering and menacing, his glowing eye piercing through the rain.

Junko’s lips curled into a faint, defiant smile. "You think... this is over? My hatred... will outlive us both."

Kazuya raised his fist for the final blow, his face a mask of grim determination. The rain fell harder, mingling with the blood-soaked ground as destiny hung in the balance. Grabbing Junko, Kazuya lifts her up and walks a few miles off to the nearest cliff he could have found, which was in the Youkai Mountains. Walking on through, he makes it to the peak of the mountain cliff, He tosses the nearly lifeless body of Junko off the cliff.

Kazuya's smirk grows as the howling wind carries away the echo of Junko's fall. Amused and feeling free from the shackles that is of his family's oppression, He steps to the edge of the cliff, peering down below. Her crumpled form lies still against the jagged rocks, surrounded by a thin veil of mist from the nearby river. For a moment, he lingers, the flicker of doubt tugging at the corner of his mind. But the Mishima blood runs cold, and he quickly dismisses the thought.

“She’s finished,” he mutters under his breath, his voice a low growl.

With a single motion, Kazuya turns away from the edge, his red eyes glinting in the dim light. The rain continues to fall, washing away the blood and grime from his bruised knuckles. His focus sharpens as he walks away, each step resonating with the promise of a future entirely under his control. The Mishima Zaibatsu was now his, and the King of Iron Fist Tournament was the next step in his unyielding march to power.

In the distance, concealed in the shadows, Aya Shameimaru clutches her notebook tightly. The tengu journalist’s sharp eyes flicker between Kazuya's retreating figure and the motionless body far below. Her hand trembles slightly, not from the cold but from the weight of the moment she has just witnessed. Engaging with him would mean certain death, so she remains hidden, quietly scribbling down every detail with meticulous precision.

June 16th
Gensokyo Incident Case No. ???
Kazuya vs. Junko Incident

Having defeated Junko, Kazuya Mishima assumes her death to be certain. The fall from the cliff, a brutal echo of his past actions against his father, Heihachi Mishima, leaves little room for survival. Kazuya’s belief in her demise is absolute, a mirror of his earlier conviction that Heihachi perished in a lake of molten lava. But if the past has taught anything, it is that the Mishima legacy thrives on impossible survivals and the eternal cycle of vengeance.

For now, however, Kazuya marches forward, his path unchallenged, his victory complete. The Mishima Zaibatsu’s throne is his, and the world braces for the chaos he intends to unleash through the next King of Iron Fist Tournament.

Yet, in Gensokyo, secrets rarely stay buried for long.

Chapter 2: A Land...Not So Far, Not too long

Summary:

Meeting Kung Lao and Raiden, They are seen relaxing at Madam Bo's Tea House, Reading the news before something caught their eye, Word spread around fast about the King of Iron Fist Tournament, And Johnny Cage gets an unwelcomed visitor

"Junko... and Heihachi Mishima... are dead."

Raven’s words reverberated through the air. He stood at the edge of the battlefield, where Junko had been thrown off by Kazuya, witnessing the gruesome events unfold from a distance. The final moments were still fresh in his mind. His glasses gleamed in the setting sun, and a piercing glare caught the eye of Aya, who had been discreetly observing from above. Unbeknownst to Raven, she had flown closer and landed behind him, clipboard in hand, curiosity driving her every step.

"For a ninja, are you sure those glasses will conceal you?" Aya asked, her voice light but teasing.

Without warning, Raven pivoted with lightning speed, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against a nearby tree. A sharp knife appeared at her neck, its blade cold and unforgiving.

"Quiet," Raven growled, his voice emotionless and chilling. "State your name and reason for approaching."

Aya’s clipboard and camera clattered to the ground as she gasped for air, but managed to respond through labored breaths.

"I—I'm Aya Shameimaru! The Tengu Reporter for Gensokyo. I was documenting the incident... Wait, are you a UN Soldier? What’s your connection to Kazuya?"

Raven’s grip loosened as he stepped back, his tone shifting to one of snarky indifference. He hesitated but knew he couldn’t divulge too much, especially with someone like Aya, a potential media outlet. Instead, he offered a sliver of the truth.

"I’m here to document the situation. The UN has been tracking the Mishima bloodline for years. Kazuya and his family have wreaked havoc across the world—places like New York City have fallen to their destruction."

Aya scribbled furiously in her notebook, pausing when Raven mentioned Jin Kazama. "Kazuya has a son? Wait... the same guy who started the war between the Mishima Zaibatsu and G Corp?"

"Partially," Raven responded, a trace of bitterness in his voice. "It was Heihachi who started the war, but Jin continued it, escalating it to unimaginable heights."

Aya’s eyes flickered with curiosity, but before she could probe further, Raven gave her no opportunity to continue. Instead, he simply shook his head and walked away, signaling the conversation was over.

At that moment, a voice rang out in the distance: "Now comes the King of Iron Fist Tournament 8!"

Both Raven and Aya froze, momentarily stunned by Kazuya’s announcement. Aya’s pen flew to the paper.

"King of Iron Fist..." She mumbled, writing down the words with haste. "A massive tournament for those who consider themselves the pinnacle of combat."

Raven walked to a comm device and spoke coldly into it. "King of Iron Fist... Kazuya is hosting it now."

Aya’s eyes lit up with excitement. "This will definitely make the Gensokyo Times headline!"

With that, she flew off, her wings cutting through the air. Raven watched her go, sighing. The event would surely capture the public’s attention, and he couldn’t stop the inevitable storm that was about to brew.

SOMEWHERE IN CHINA, 5 DAYS LATER

Raiden and Kung Lao sat at a dining table, surrounded by a mountain of food. The tea house was warm and bustling, but the mood between the two was tense as they poured over the latest article. The headline was impossible to ignore.

"King of Iron Fist Tournament Returns After 11 Years!"

Raiden’s eyes scanned the text, his voice laced with disbelief. "I never thought it would come back..."

Kung Lao, half asleep from the food coma, barely managed to lift his head. "What’s the reward?" he mumbled, his words thick with food.

Raiden paused, his fingers resting on the paper as he absorbed the shock. "...Whoever wins gets the Mishima Zaibatsu."

Kung Lao’s eyes shot open. "The Mishima Zaibatsu? The military organization invading Poland and Gensokyo? Why would he give it away?"

Raiden shook his head, unsure. "I don’t know. But it's a reward far better than money."

Kung Lao stretched, his attention still divided between the food and the looming tournament. "So... Are we doing this? What about Liu Kang?"

Before Raiden could answer, footsteps echoed behind them. A fiery aura engulfed the space, and Liu Kang appeared, his presence commanding attention.

"You don’t need to worry about Liu Kang, Raiden. I’m already aware of the situation."

Both Raiden and Kung Lao stood in respect. "L-Lord Liu Kang..."

Kung Lao raised an eyebrow. "And what did Johnny say about cheesy walk-ins?"

Liu Kang ignored the remark, his eyes focused on the task ahead. "Kazuya Mishima is running the tournament, and it will take place near the Hakurei Shrine. I believe you two, along with some familiar allies, can take over the Zaibatsu and restore peace to Earthrealm."

Kung Lao scratched his head, confused. "Familiar allies? Who do you mean?"

Raiden sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "He means Johnny Cage, Scorpion, Kenshi, and Smoke, Kung Lao."

Liu Kang nodded. "I’ll have you meet at the Human Village. For now, pack your things and take the boat."

Both warriors nodded, heading out to prepare. As they exited, they ran into Madam Bo', who grinned slyly.

"Leaving without paying the bill?" she teased.

"We left cash on the table," Raiden said quickly.

Madam Bo chuckled. "Don’t worry. This one’s on the house. Go get Kazuya."

She handed them some renminbi and gave them a hearty pat on the back.

MALIBU, CALIFORNIA... CAGE’S MANSION

Johnny Cage sat at his desk, reviewing documents with a smirk. He flicked through the pages before his eyes stopped at the headline. "KING OF IRON FIST TOURNAMENT RETURNS AFTER 11 YEARS!"

A low chuckle escaped him. "Huh. The kid’s got the damn organization."

His eyes narrowed as he read further, his interest piqued by the prize: Mishima Zaibatsu.

"Well, well... this just got interesting."

Just as he was about to set the paper down, a knock came at the door. Johnny frowned, expecting no visitors at this hour. When he opened the door, a figure stood before him—hooded, scarred, and cloaked in mystery.

"Woah, you look like you had a bad day... what’s up with..." Johnny gestured at her appearance. "...this?"

The woman’s voice was sharp and commanding. "Silence, mortal. Do not ask questions. Let me in."

Before Johnny could respond, she entered, moving with unsettling speed.

"Who the hell are you?" Johnny demanded, confusion and irritation mixing in his voice.

The woman lowered her hood, revealing the damaged face of a long-forgotten enemy. "Long-time enemy of Chang'e. Spirit of Vengeance... Junko."

Chapter 3: Death to Him, Return of Her

Johnny Cage crossed his arms, leaning casually against the doorframe of his Malibu mansion. "Wow. Great entrance. But you’re still trespassing, lady. So I gotta kick you out." Standing before him was Junko, a divine presence draped in an aura of power, her expression a blend of disdain and melancholy. Her golden eyes narrowed as she gazed upon the audacious mortal. “Do you even know who you’re speaking to? I could end your life with a thought.” Johnny sighed, rubbing his temples. “Great. Another god. Look, I’ve dealt with your type before, and honestly? You don’t even rank top ten. So unless you’re here to pitch a movie deal, scram.” He turned and poured himself a drink, his calm demeanor barely masking his irritation.

Junko’s gaze hardened. “You doubt my power?”

Johnny took a long sip of his whiskey, then set the glass down with a smirk. “Power? Lady, you look like you just crawled out of a dumpster. I—” His words were cut short as Junko’s fist slammed into his gut, sending him flying across the room. He crashed into a glass coffee table, shards scattering around him.

Groaning, he staggered to his feet, brushing glass and blood from his shirt. “You’re lucky my couch wasn’t there, or I’d really be mad. And for the record?” He cracked his knuckles, eyes blazing with determination. “I don’t care if you’re a god, a demon, or a girl scout—you mess with Johnny Cage, you get the Cage treatment.”

Before Junko could respond, Johnny launched himself forward, his signature Shadow Kick propelling him across the room. The glowing strike connected, sending Junko skidding back. She quickly steadied herself, her expression unreadable as she regarded her opponent.

Johnny pressed the attack, leaping into a spinning kick aimed at her head. But Junko’s hand shot out, catching his leg mid-air. With a flick of her wrist, she slammed him into the floor. The impact reverberated through the mansion, leaving a deep crack in the concrete.

Johnny winced, touching the back of his head and pulling his hand away to see blood. “You know how much this haircut cost, you crazy witch?”

Junko rolled her eyes. “Spare me your vanity. Do you want to hear my offer or not?”

Johnny glared at her, his breathing labored but steady. “You break into my house, trash my floor, and now you want to talk deals? Lady, you’ve got one hell of a sales pitch.”

Junko raised a hand, and glowing bullets of light materialized, encircling Johnny in a deadly halo. They hovered, unmoving, but their presence was enough to make even Johnny’s cocky demeanor falter.

“Now, Mr. Cage,” Junko began, her voice cold and commanding, “I’m offering you power—power beyond your imagination. In return, you will help me take down an enemy.”

Johnny’s eyes darted between the bullets. “Yeah, hard pass. I’ve already got plans. There’s this big tournament in Gensokyo, and—”

“Good,” Junko interrupted. “You’re already part of my plans, then.”

Johnny blinked. “Come again?”

Junko’s gaze pierced him. “One of the tournament’s organizers is my target: Kazuya Mishima. He believes I encouraged his father to kill his mother. He’s wrong. I simply…nudged Heihachi in the right direction.”

Johnny tilted his head, skepticism evident. “Heihachi Mishima? The guy with the gravity-defying hair? You’re telling me this whole mess is because of him?”

Junko’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “It’s a long story. Let’s just say his family’s penchant for destruction is unmatched.”

Johnny crossed his arms, cautiously intrigued. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the deal with Kazuya?”

Junko’s eyes darkened, her voice heavy with emotion. “He and his ilk… They were responsible for the death of my son. They raided my home, seeking to eliminate me and anyone who could stand in their way. My son, Chang’e, paid the price.”

Johnny’s expression softened, his usual bravado tempered by a flicker of empathy. “That’s rough. But you’re telling me this guy’s literally the devil? Like, horns and everything?”

“Those weren’t rumors,” Junko replied simply.

Johnny let out a low whistle. “Well, damn. This does sound like one of my movies.”

Junko groaned. “Focus, Cage.”

Somewhere in Gensokyo

The fog clung to the peaks of Youkai Mountain, shrouding the towering cliffs and dense forests in an eerie stillness. Perched on the edge of a precipice, a man in a white tiger mask gazed out over the expanse, his posture rigid and disciplined. Behind him, a sprawling martial arts arena stood adjacent to an ancient temple, its architecture a blend of human craftsmanship and youkai mysticism.

A second figure approached, clad in a black mask. His voice was deep and measured. “Your training has been impressive.”

The tiger-masked man turned slightly. “I strive to be the greatest. Are they coming?”

The black-masked man nodded. “Reimu, Cirno, and Sanae will arrive soon. Be ready."

The tiger-masked man rose, his movements deliberate and powerful. “Understood.”

The black-masked man stepped to the edge of the arena, looking down at the Tekken Monks who trained below. “They look to you for leadership, Heihachi Mishima.”

Heihachi’s voice was low and resolute. “And I will not fail them.”

Chapter 4: Heihachi...

Notes:

sorry for not uploading, forgot this site even existed lmfao

"He has honed his body and technique exquisitely... Yet, the mind is wavering, causing an imbalance between 'Mind,' 'Body,' and 'Technique.'"

The words echoed in Heihachi Mishima’s mind as he stood within the confines of the Genmaji Temple, surrounded by the Tekken Monks. The man once assumed to be dead, now alive, was a shadow of his former self. After the brutal confrontation with his son, Kazuya, the violent clash had stopped his heart and, in some way, erased all memory of the violence he had once been known for. Heihachi wasn’t aware of his past—the ruthless leader of the Mishima Zaibatsu, a figure feared by many in both the Outside World and Gensokyo. Now, he wandered in a haze, alongside the Tekken Monks, a group that practiced the Mishima Fighting Style. They resided within the vast, abandoned halls of the Genmaji Temple, nestled high within the Youkai Mountains. The memory of his prior life was a fog that lingered at the edge of his mind, a question he had no answer to.

As Heihachi followed the black-masked man, Seiryu, who led the monks, his mind churned with confusion. Heihachi had a strange sense of familiarity with the people around him, but no recollection of how or why. Faces, movements, and voices stirred something deep inside, but the puzzle pieces refused to fit together. They arrived at the temple’s fighting grounds, a massive space with rock-tiled flooring. In the center was a symbol of a fist—a representation of the Mishima Fighting Style, surrounded by the active training of the Tekken Monks. Some monks performed uppercuts, leaping from one location to another with precision, while others moved gracefully through the air, evading walls of fire as they practiced their techniques. On either side, two enormous statues stood as silent guardians, their gaze watching over the monks' training. Cherry Blossom trees dotted the area, held sacred by the monks, as they believed the blossoms brought them good luck and strength. It was the shrine at the far end of the training grounds that caught Heihachi’s attention. In it, he could make out three figures—Reimu Hakurei, Sanae Kochiya, and Cirno. The arrival of these individuals had been anticipated, and the black-masked man had spoken of them earlier, though their purpose remained unclear to Heihachi.

"Are you sure he's alright?" Cirno asked, her tone filled with skepticism, eyeing Heihachi from a distance. "I mean, he did try to kill—" Reimu cut her off with a firm tone. "You’ll be fine. He’s not the same as he was before." Despite Reimu's reassurance, Cirno couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that ran down her spine as she watched Heihachi. The intensity of his gaze—a stare softer than what she expected from the man whose name struck fear in many—made her wary, though she couldn’t quite explain why.

"...At least, that's what Seiryu claims..." Reimu muttered, a note of uncertainty in her voice.

As if on cue, Seiryu approached them. His footsteps were quiet but deliberate, and his presence exuded authority as he addressed the three women. "Welcome, you three. I trust you're familiar with Heihachi Mishima?"

Heihachi stood silently, his gaze shifting between the newcomers, his face unreadable. Though he couldn’t recall his past actions or why these figures seemed to hold such weight in the current moment, a part of him felt as though these individuals had played a role in his existence long before this strange and hazy chapter. "Uhm, Yes...Heihachi..." Sanae said with a more hesitant tone. Seiryu noticed their skepticism, "Heihachi hasn't been the same after I caught him during his near death experience... In fact, the world hasn't ideally been the same, Gensokyo, The Outside World...Have you resolved the Hakurei Barriers incident?" he asked, Reimu responded in a bit of a reluctant tone, "Well...The thing is, Ran is only doing so much to get the barrier back, Her powers aren't as strong, which is why-" 

Seiryu cut of Reimu as he was familiar with what Reimu was going to say, "Why you need Heihachi, He can restore the barrier back together again I presume you were going to say?" A bit shocked, Reimu responded, "Yes, We do need Heihachi, As...well...this is going to sound a bit humorous..." to which Cirno continued the conversation for Reimu, "She wants Heihachi to punch the barrier to restore it. Honestly, I dunno how that can work, Aren't you like...breaking it even more?" 

Sanae then finished off what the two were going to say, "We presumed that with Heihachi's advancements into the healing arts of the Mishima Fighting Style that he could possibly restore the Barrier...That's what the two are trying to say." 

"Heihachi I believe is not as ready as you wish him to be, if you can prove me otherwise, please, proceed with fighting him" Seiryu told them, partially joking, partially serious. He was right, Heihachi was nowhere near ready to fix anything despite being in the Genmaji temple for quite some time now. Cirno took this remark quite seriously, not understanding the humorous intent Seriyu was trying to pull of, "You're asking us to fight that man?! No way am I doing that!" She shouted in a serious manner, as if she was being told off. "Sanae! How about you fight him!" shoving Sanae towards Heihachi a bit. "W-What?! Are you mad! I-" Reimu then finally walks up, "We need Heihachi to fix the barrier, I shall fight him." A fool, The two though, but they couldn't do much. Reimu walked towards the fighting arena, The Tekken Monks stop to stare at her walking through the small walkway towards Heihachi. All asking what her intentions are with him. 

"Heihachi Mishima, Secondary Ranking Official and Yellow Belt ranking Mishima Styled Martial Artist, I am in need of your assistance. However, To explain further, I must see if we are worthy for each other" Reimu pulled out her Gohei and twirled it around a bit. "You plan to use projectiles for this fight?" Heihachi asked, "Of course, is it not what you've been taught to deal with?" She responded.

"I have been, but to see it done is a bit..." before Heihachi could finish, he is cut off by Seiryu, "Heihachi! Do not let the use of Danmaku projectiles fear you, You must be ready to strike regardless if the opponent fights fairly or not!" The two approach the center of the arena, "Spellcard Rules, We do not kill within this fight, First to fall or lose stamina is declared the loser, Do you agree to these terms?" Asked Reimu, Heihachi nods and gets into a Mishima Style Fighting Stance. Seriyu nods looking at the shrine, Two monks near the top of the shrine ring a loud bell. Thus beginning the fight between Reimu and Heihachi. The bell tolls in reverberation as its deep resonance cuts through the mountain air in Genmaji Temple. The wide circle of the arena was enclosed by Tekken Monks. Heihachi's form is disciplined and solid, his feet planted firmly on the ground with a traditional Mishima-style stance. On the other hand, Reimu moved in fluid motions, her gohei gleaming in the light that she held lightly in her hand. Reimu moved first, her body a blur leaping backward as one hand conjured a rapid series of talismans, the other whirring the Gohei with practiced ease. A flick of her wrist later, the talismans shot forward, joining streaks of light in the air. Each shimmered with spiritual energy, their trajectories as unpredictable as they could get as they spiralled toward Heihachi. Heihachi wasted no time. Training with the Tekken Monks had honed his reflexes to a razor's edge, and his body moved instinctively. He sidestepped the first wave of talismans with deceptively agile movements for a man of his size. Grunting, he lifted his arms and batted away two others; the energy dissipated harmlessly, striking his hardened forearms. Reimu pressed the attack, her Gohei crackling with spiritual energy as she lunged forward. She swung the staff in a wide arc, aiming for Heihachi’s midsection. Heihachi shifted his weight, catching the Gohei mid-swing with both hands. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through the air, but he stood firm, his feet rooted like the temple’s ancient statues.

"Enough!" Shouted Seriyu, Tensed up on the situation that occurred. "This is going on for too long, You Hakurei Reimu failed to execute your moves properly and with efficiency..." pointing towards Reimu with fury, then pointing to Heihachi, "Heihachi! Do not just shatter her projectiles, seek the chance to punish her overuse and reliance on said projectiles." Nodding in disappointment, he lifts his hand up and puts it to a fist, the temple bell tolls, Heihachi proceeds to walk off. "We shall discuss of his usage tomorrow Hakurei Shrine Maiden, for now, I must ask you few to vacate the temple."
"Why" asked Cirno, "We just arrived and now you want us to leave?" before Cirno could have continued, Seriyu cuts her off. "I request for you to leave, We will talk, all of us, tomorrow"