Author's Note: Nope, don't own Tekken.
Disclaimer: AAAHAHA "No Tomorrow" is proving to be harder to write than I initially thought, and such lack of motivation for Tekken lately :| And, that SFxT trailer… adslkjskdjhfksdhf. Also, can has Soul Calibur 5 already (KILIIIIIIK)? Lol anyway, hope this is alright. Like I said, lack of motivation for Tekken etc. And nasty, nasty writer's block :|
DANCING FOR RAIN
There's nothing but white noise and a single, droning thunderclap as Hwoarang runs.
He doesn't really know where he's going, he just knows that he needs to move quickly. He's not being chased, but he feels that if he stops moving, then he's going to lose. Someone close needs his help, and he tried but he's since vanished and doesn't know where he's gone. He mentally curses those wings – it's not like he can sprout some out of his back – and comes to the edge of a forest and stops.
The white noise fades away for a moment. He hears an anguished shout, one he knows too well from the amount of times he's punched him in the face – in fights, of course, or little hissy fits. He cups his hands around his mouth and gathers his voice, "Kazama!"
When no response greets him, his hands shoot up to his hair. He grips at it tightly, his mind racing – he's dealt with this problem before, but he'd either knock Jin out before it got too much, or Jin would manage to control himself. He's never actually escaped his home before, mid-transformation. Hwoarang wonders if he's killed anybody, and if he has, how he's gonna explain it to him when he becomes sane again.
Of all the ideas you've ever had, you thought that this one was good somehow, he thinks to himself, forcing himself to run again, Wasn't enough to dance with the devil; you had to end up holding his heart in your hands too.
Even if he knows where Jin stands, he's got no idea on his own opinion. He's a nice guy when he's sane and puts up a great fight, at least. The businessman only told him three months ago that he had 'feelings for you – I know I'm not flattering myself here, but –' and Hwoarang simply told him to shut up and settle down with a roguish grin. It feels like he's got two opinions, with one foot on each, and both are unstable and making him lose his balance.
It's one thing to tell him about the devil within – it's another to be asked to accept it.
It's one thing to walk away – it's another to try and help him fight it, because he understands. It might not be another spirit watching every move, but he still can relate. His anger, his rage – it reminds him of the beast. He spits things he doesn't mean and lashes out too hastily to shield himself from the ugly world and the mirrors that reflect his own selfishness.
All the trees start to blur together after a while, but when Hwoarang hears a laugh, he stops dead in his tracks and clenches his fists. He recognises that laugh – it's not the nice one he likes. Swallowing, he gets into stance and remains ever vigilant, for Devil Jin could be anywhere in these woods. He didn't want to be a victim today.
Do you really think you can help him? Devil Jin purrs from an unknown corner of the forest, You couldn't even help your own Master…
A figure suddenly shoots out of the darkness, and there's a stinging sensation on Hwoarang's cheek. Devil Jin's cut him. He looks around and spots him to his right, approaching him with an almost ethereal strut. He exhales and clenches his fists, ready to fight. This is the only way he can help Jin keep control – and honestly he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the challenge.
You amuse me, mortal, he says absentmindedly with a wicked grin, You are a curious creature.
Hwoarang's left leg lashes out, but as he expects, Devil Jin ducks. As he pulls back his leg, the monster punches him in the side and sends him flying. He dashes after his prey, spinning in a small circle to strike him again. It is followed by a jab, and then a strong, lowering hand. The body hits the ground, but before Devil Jin can slam his foot into it again, the Korean rolls out of the way and trips him over with a sweep.
Following this, an axe kick comes, and then another. The demon tries to move out of the way, but a strong, sharp kick to the head renders him dizzy. Hwoarang speaks, skittering back a few steps as he watches blood crawl down the side of the man's head, "Come on Kazama, I thought you were stronger than that. Fight it."
There's a reason that Hwoarang chose to help Jin. For once, it isn't one hundred percent selfish – he hopes.
Devil Jin rises with a roar, thrusting out two one clawed hand. After another small, quick spin, the other hand joins it, and Hwoarang's body is slammed into a tree. He grabs the front of his vest and grins, sharp teeth gleaming in the miniscule hints of the moonlight, He is weak. Weaker than you, he raises a single finger and presses it against the fighter's forehead, forcing his head back and against the trunk, You wouldn't last if I inhabited your body.
Something in the back of Devil Jin's mind causes him to lose focus. In response, Hwoarang kicks the beast's side, forcing him to let go. He then tops it off with a kick to the side of the head, just behind one of the horns. He runs towards his opponent and leaps up, kneeing him in the chin, and then stomping on his head, propelling himself to the other side and the body into the ground.
"Hey Kazama," he's trying a different tactic now as Devil Jin rises to his feet unsteadily, "Remember that time you said that you didn't want my help and you wanted to try and beat this thing yourself? Well hurry up and do it already. You can't keep letting this guy walk all over you, it's dumb," he takes a step back as a punch comes his way, "Think about happy things like your nature walks and shit."
But when Jin thinks of happy things, he doesn't think of nature and high school when everything was so carefree. He doesn't really think of his Mother anymore, for her shining beacon had unfortunately faded away many years ago, and Devil continues to try and taint the images he remembered with her back then. His happiness now resides and relates to the man in front of him – in battle, cigarettes and smarmy comments.
He doesn't know why or when, he just knows that's what it is now. When did he change so much, he wonders.
There's a noticeably sharp pain across his face – Hwoarang's struck him again, only harder than usual. He staggers back and can feel Devil's influence receding mentally, but he's not sure about physically yet. He looks to the Korean for confirmation, and when his expression relaxes, he knows that he's nearly normal. He can't exactly feel his wings or horns disappear today, he can only feel the beating that was given to try and calm the beast.
There will be a time when I absorb all of your happiness, Jin. Where I destroy every shred of it until you have nothing and no one left but me.
Jin feels a raindrop at the end of his nose. He feels more on his shoulders until a heavy downpour begins. He lifts a hand to rub his bloodied face, and exhales, tired and a little dizzy. Crunching, heavy footsteps get his attention – Hwoarang's now in front of him and helping him stand, an arm across his shoulders. Jin finds his voice, "I'm sorry."
"Nothin' you could've done," he replies, beginning to walk back with him, "Sorry about your face."
The comment amuses Jin for some reason, so he smiles a little despite the discomfort and the swelling, ignoring the heavy feeling around the top of his head - the rain's drenched his hair and is making it stick uncomfortorably. As he limps alongside his friend, he grips his shoulder for balance and to try and spark some sort of reaction to see if he's mad or not. He's inwardly pleased to see the corner of the man's lips curve upwards in a temporary smirk.
Maybe… Maybe one day. Maybe that day isn't so far away.
"Would you ask me to change?" Jin suddenly asks, still in a daze and trying to slow his racing mind. He's referring to Devil, he's referring to getting rid of the curse so then maybe they could actually be together without him worrying about killing the other man. He's not interested in the world right now – his own world's more important, and if he – "I mean…"
Hwoarang's somewhere between a smirk and a smile, "Then where's the fun in that?"