Author's Note: Well, well, I started this fic in June and I finally decided it put it up. Think of it as a replacement to “Faded Rivalry.” So naturally it has yaoi: Hwoarang/Jin, whatever, you get the point.
DISCLAIMER: Me don’t own Tekken, k?
Art of Fighting
Chapter 1 - Intertwining
Every time I fight, I feel a part of me tear away from my soul. I’ve always fought for a purpose…to help someone, to save someone…but never for myself. I don’t like to fight, in fact I hate it, but I do it for the people I love. They needed a certain support or they’ll fall apart. I am their support. But whenever I fight…I feel myself fall apart. Who am I supposed to lean on for support?? I have friends, but every time I need them, they always seem to leave me. I wonder now if they are truly my friends or do they just lounge around me because I am strong?
When I was young, my mother taught me how to fight first. Back then I loved to fight. My only purpose to fight back then was just for the thrill of it, the learning experience I got from it. My mother was a wonderful teacher. She taught me to only fight when it was necessary and to never do it just to show off. That is the true way of fighting.
Now, almost twenty years later, I am in a state of complete loss. I don’t know what to do in my life anymore. It’s been a year since I’ve fought. Twenty-one years of my life are gone now. What am I to do with my twenty second??
I live alone and none of my friends have called or visited. Well, Xiaoyu called a day ago, but it was just the usual small talk. She used to be my closest friend and now it seemed liked we were miles apart. She was still the perky, happy, and spunky girl I met and knew…but everything seemed so different now. I felt so lost, so depressed…and I was very aware of it. I knew I shouldn’t have been feeling this way and that I should do something about it, but I never did.
I’ve gotten so used to it, that I barely even acknowledge it anymore. I hear my friends sometimes say to me, “Jin, why are you so quiet?” or “Jin, are you all right??” They seem so nice to me. I knew they’re only doing it because they pity me. I am a nobody…just some demon’s offspring. I have no life…it died a long time ago with my mother.
So now I look at my hands. How many people have I hurt with them?? How many times have I had to clean them off from the blood of another?? I can’t even cry anymore. The tears never fall. My eyes never water up. My heart has become cold…covered my the thickest layer of ice that will never thaw out.
I looked around me.
I had a very spacious apartment…earned by my very efforts. It had a kitchen, two rooms, a very large living room, and two bathrooms. I didn’t even know why I got such a large apartment. I always liked space I guess. Hn, there I go contradicting myself again.
I was sitting on the couch like a still rag doll staring out the window. I do this a lot. Sit around for no apparent reason except to muse…muse about my past…my life…my misery. I have been like this for a good few years now…steadily getting worse by the day.
And I still do nothing about it.
I must admit that I haven’t smiled or ever thought of a happy thought in a good long while. That’s why I never hang out anymore…because they always question me on my lack of emotion. They don’t know what I’m going through, those ungrateful bastards. I’m always there when they ask me for help, but where are they when I need it??
It was midnight and I felt a little restless. Maybe a walk would get me moving. Seems like I haven’t been out in a long time except to buy groceries or for my job. I stood up stiffly. Guess I’ve been sitting a little longer than I thought. I grabbed my coat and slipped on my shoes before heading outside.
When I walked, I walked forever.
The night was clear and cool. The moon was out not that I really I took notice to it. I soon found myself wondering into the dangerous region of the city. All the local gangs hung around this place…attacking wandering people like me. Who knows, maybe they’ll attack me. And I’ll even let them kill me.
Suddenly, as if God heard my request, someone jumped up from behind me and pushed me roughly against the wall, forcing my hands behind me. I felt the light tickling of warm breathing on my neck. I didn’t even try to look at my attacker.
“A little daredevil, eh?? Walking around at night on our turf??”
The voice was distinguishably a male and a young one at that…maybe around my age. I stared at the wall in front of me silently. He banged his arm into my spine for my silence.
“What’s wrong?? Aww…did I scare the little puppy??”
His voice held great amounts of sarcasm and he started laughing maniacally. I wondered to myself if this guy was really part of a gang or just doing this to impress them.
Suddenly another sound disturbed my thoughts. It was the sound of someone scratching his or her foot against the wall.
“Yuri, cut it out.”
The man holding me back loosened his grip slightly.
“Can’t I have a little fun??”
So his name was Yuri…
“You had your fun when you nearly busted the cops on us.”
There was a distinct accent in the person’s voice. It was deep and smooth and had a hint of something foreign in it. This voice also sounded inevitably familiar. I felt the pressure lifted from my arms and I was able to turn around…to find someone not worth seeing.
I stared at the redhead in front of me. He was still just as strong as ever and his hair was spikier than ever, too. I was also able to look at my attacker for the first time. He had black hair and dark brown eyes. He was shorter than Hwoarang but just as built.
“Now what in the world would a guy like you be doing in a neighborhood like this?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. The same cocky attitude…
I merely blinked at Hwoarang’s question.
“Taking a walk,” I replied mundanely. Where was this leading to??
“Trying to live on the dangerous side, eh, punk? Well, you’re not getting anywhere with that kind of attitude,” he remarked rather arrogantly. I frowned slightly. He was even worse than Hwoarang…
Suddenly the redhead jabbed him in the side, his face stern.
“Shut up, fag, and go home,” he muttered between clenched teeth.
With a slight pout, Yuri turned and left, but not without shooting me a glare. I looked at Hwoarang. I wonder why he did that?
Then the Korean youth walked over to me, examining me from head to toe. Then he crossed his arms, looking at me coolly. It unnerves me slightly, but I ignore it. I’m used to people looking at me strangely.
“Kazama, Kazama, Kazama, what happened to you?” he said aloud, his tone wondering yet with a slight hint of mocking. Or maybe I just imagined it because I wasn’t used to Hwoarang talking seriously.
His question was quiet, but it held great impact. I was amazed when I felt myself a bit stunned by it. Why was it that when that same question was asked by all my other friends I didn’t respond? But when Hwoarang asked me, I felt surprised. How strange…
“You’ve changed since the last time we fought. You were a bit depressed back then, too, but now it’s even worse. I would’ve thought your friends would take care of you.”
My eyebrows furrowed slightly at this statement. He had known I had been depressed that long?? He never seemed to shed any of that knowledge.
“What’s it to you?” I retorted, hiding some of my impatience.
Hwoarang arched an eyebrow as he dropped his arms and placed his hands into his pockets.
“Well…I don’t really care about you. It’s just that you make fighters everywhere look really pathetic. So do us a favor and get some help.”
With that he turned and went back to wherever it was that he came from. I looked at him from behind in a sort of mixture of confusion and surprise. Was that advice he just gave me? I blinked and started walking back to my apartment.
Now that was a shocker.
Fate always has this weird way of playing with me. I see Hwoarang one day expecting to never to see him again. I thought it was a once in a blue moon kind of thing. Yet I am proven wrong again when I walk into the café in the morning, seeking my usual black coffee.
I looked into my mug. The coffee was long gone now…so why was I still here?? I glanced over at my right and saw Hwoarang laughing with his friends on one of the other tables. He probably doesn’t even realize I’m here. Well, that’s fine I guess. No one really ever pays attention to me. I just always seem to be there.
And half the time I don’t even mean to.
“Well, hello Jinny-boy. Why don’t you join us?”
There it goes. That annoying voice filled with sarcasm and amusement. I wondered if Hwoarang always spoke like that. So far he has. Should I even bother to look at him?? No, I don’t think I should give him that pleasure. If he really wants me to go to him, he’ll come to me. I took another sip of my coffee and sigh.
I nearly jumped out of my seat when I felt a hand being clapped down on my shoulder. I looked up slightly and saw Hwoarang glowering at me. Great, now what does he want? I didn’t actually expect him to come up to me.
“You’re a mess. Oh wait, I told you that already, right?” he mocked, arching an eyebrow.
“In great detail,” I replied with a sigh.
I actually am treated by a smirk from Hwoarang. Wait…no; he’s always wearing a smirk. Never mind, it’s nothing special then.
“Well, then, I guess I’ll see you around!”
Once again I watch Hwoarang from the corner of my eye as he leaves the café with his friends. Strange…he comes up to me just to tell me what a mess I am?? Then he leaves like it’s just an ordinary walk in the park. Am I being a little weird by thinking that was weird??
I glanced at my coffee again.
I needed another cup.
So I raised my hand.
“Jin, you’re coming whether you like it or not.”
I held back a sigh. Once again Xiaoyu has managed to find me in a vulnerable situation. She knows that I haven’t seen her and the others in months and she also knows that I promised her that I would go to her birthday dinner, which was tomorrow. And for Christ’s sake she also knows that I’m a man of my word and that I can’t betray a promise.
“Jin…you promised!! And you never break a promise!” she pointed out, her tone hard.
I frowned and stared at the phone. Man, was she psychic or something??
“Fine, fine…” I gave in. A verbal fight with Xiaoyu was almost always fruitless.
Hn, what other choice did I have anyway?? It was either that or Xiaoyu came over to my apartment and beat the living shit out of me. Of course I don’t mind dying…I just don’t want to die like that.
“Yay!! Right, Julia will pick you up tomorrow then! See ya!” she exclaimed loudly. I wince and bring the phone away from my ear slightly.
Amazing, she hangs up without me even saying good-bye. That girl just has too much energy. She had an early birthday…January third…very early. I still had yet to turn twenty-two in June. I hung up the phone slowly and glanced around my room. I was so sad. I hadn’t gone out in months…
What the hell was I supposed to wear??
Okay, normally I don’t care about my appearance, but this was Xiaoyu. She was like my little sister and I didn’t want to show up looking like a slob no matter how depressed I was. I had to be happy for her. This was her birthday. She didn’t need any of my problems to boggle up her mind. Nope, tomorrow I will be happy Jin…fake Jin.
Oh, shit, I needed to get Xiaoyu a gift. What the fuck…
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