A/N: Don't own him, wish I did. I wrote this in about three minutes, that's why its short, hope you like.
Hwoarang strode down the streets without purpose. He did not know where he was going, he only knew he had to keep walking. He was running from the past, running from the present and trying to escape the future. His entire life had come crashing to his feet in the past few days, and he did not think he could handle it much longer. He had gone up against the only person he had never been able to beat, and now his master, his father, was dead.
He had come from the dojo, where he had found the broken and bloody body of Master Baek, his father. He had gone into a daze, and now he was heading as far as he could away from that place. He turned down the streets and alleys which he knew so well, for he traveled them every night. He couldn't face his gang now, not only had he been disgraced in front of them, he knew he was about to collapse.
He thought he heard a noise behind him, and began to pick up his pace until he was almost running. He did not dare turn and look, for he kept running. Running from everything he knew, everything he was. Running from the past, trying to forget the present, ever evading the future. He was running from his life, running from reality.