It was a stifling hot September morning and the first day of the King of Iron Fist Tournament: fighters queued around the hotel complex owned by the Mishima Zaibatsu with their luggage placed behind them, some engaging one another in friendly banter and sharing their excitement as well as apprehensions whilst others waited more quietly for the reception desk to clear. The initial day was to orientate the fighters to the rules and regulations of the tournament, to familiarise themselves with the building and the styles used by other participants. Long term attenders Paul Pheonix and Marshall Law took this opportunity to skip out on the dinner provided and head over to the bar where they would host a more cheerful and social orientation involving severe alcohol intoxication. It was now the social norm for those two organise the time and place. Most of the newcomers would pass the opportunity and attend the orientation to appease staff officials. After all the gruelling training they endured just to enter the tournament, they did not want to be thrown out due to disobedience.
A tall muscular man with long auburn hair leant on his suitcase impatiently as two males at the reception desk argued over room size.
"No, I'm not sharing a bed with you Marshall!" The forty eight year old blonde rubbed the bridge of his nose with exasperation.
"Queen bed Paul!" The Chinese-American replied back with lilted pronunciation, his black eyes gleaming at the prospect.
"No." Paul said flatly, glancing behind him at the building queue. "Steve will have to get a room with Lee, I want my own bed. Anyway, stop arguing you idiot, we're holding everybody up."
"Yeah c'mon, hurry up!" The twenty one year old auburn male barked as they glanced behind them. "Some of us want a cigarette you fuckwits."
Paul glanced blankly at Marshall with no trace of comprehension across his face. "Dude…you know that was too fast for me to understand…"
Everyone was dressed in light summer wear as temperatures began to sore they became more restless stood around, seeing what was taking the reception area so long they began to murmur irritably.
"I said hurry the fuck up." The young male pushed them forward to face the reception desk, hearing the growing line behind him applaud his efforts.
"Sheesh Hwoarang." Marshall retrieved the key from the reception worker and grasped the handle of his suitcase. "You can be such an ass sometimes."
"Remember, the Blue Bar at seven tonight!" Paul called over his shoulder as the pair clattered off down the marble corridor in sandals.
Hwoarang nodded and gave the retreating pair a 'thumbs up' to signal he would be there.
The last one, despite being only two months ago, was really fun and consisted of many some fighters breaking tables by dancing on them to the staff's despair, drinking competitions and drawing with permanent marker on those who passed out; in the last tournament Lei Wulong fought against a bemused Nina Williams with faded whiskers and bushy eyebrows of the Mishima men etched on his face.
"Thank you very much sir." The receptionist interrupted his reminiscing thoughts and handed him a key to his room. "We hope you enjoy your stay here and good luck in the tournament."
Ciggy time! Woo hoo! Hwoarang pulled at his case with such force it crashed at his heel as he headed outside in excitement.
The complex was large for the forty seven rooms available; it had a large extensive gym and sparring room which was a necessity, a large outdoor swimming pool with sun loungers facing it which were hardly ever used, a slightly smaller heated indoor pool and three bubbling hot tubs to soothe the pains and aches of the days training. Cuisine was a three course meal cooked to a five star standard, themed every night to accommodate other nationalities and served between the hours of 18:00 to 20:30, which everyone thought, was reasonable.
Hwoarang sat on a wicker chair and stretched his long legs to the point where a small groan in satisfaction escaped his lips; despite wearing a light fabric white shirt and blue knee length shorts they were still riding up his crotch. Taking another long drag of his cigarette and adjusting himself, he blew the smoke into the air and watched as it curled and dispersed like snake before turning to the large glass doors where someone called his name. It was a 5.'2" Chinese girl with silky jet black hair that fell on her shoulders that framed over oval face and large dark eyes which shone at recognition of him. She smoothed down her strapless floral dress and gestured for him to come over.
"No…" Hwoarang smiled and shook his head "You come here Xiaoyu." He kicked out the chair opposite him and moved his luggage closer to him.
The eighteen year old nodded happily, pulling her suitcase with Panda faces splashed mercilessly across the pink fabric with her and sat down rather clumsily into the other wicker chair.
"Smooth."
"It was, wasn't it?" Xiaoyu grinned, producing a brush from her shoulder bag and dragging it painfully through the tangled strands. "I hate travelling, especially when it's hot like this."
"I know and it's only ten in the morning." Hwoarang winced for the young woman as visible pieces of her hair came from her scalp. Xiaoyu laughed at his expression and continued to brush until she was able to run her fingers through it without getting caught. "It's weird that only two months ago we were here."
"I know." Xiaoyu massaged her scalp. "You can't do a decent amount of training in just two months, what are they playing at?"
"You know what they about Mishima's." Hwoarang crushed the stub of his cigarette into the ashtray provided. "They need to be stripped of all privileges and institutionalised 'cos they're fucking crazy."
Ling-Xiaoyu paused thoughtfully at this comment and Hwoarang mentally kicked himself: had he forgotten that the friend in front of him held the youngest Mishima, Kazama by name but nevertheless still a Mishima, in such high regard?
"My bad, I didn't think there." Hwoarang stood up apologetically and scratched at the nape of his neck in a mannerism that made Xiaoyu smile.
"Everyone knows you two don't get on." She also stood up. "Don't apologise just for me."
The pair took their cases in hand and proceeded towards their rooms which were on the same floor. Hwoarang scowled at the sheer laziness of Xiaoyu's use of elevator and decided to race her by hoisting his case in his arms and pelting up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him. He arrived on the third floor, watching and waiting for the elevators doors to open in triumph but hung his head in defeat as Xiaoyu waved to him several doors down with her key in the door.
"What was that?" She cupped her ear playfully. "Did I win? Yes, I think I did."
"Shut up before I come over there and kick that smirk off your face." Hwoarang laughed, withdrawing his own key from his pocket and entering his room.
Xiaoyu observed Hwoarang enter the room five doors down and began to move into her own room at the sound of the door closing shut behind him.
The Mishima Zaibatsu spoilt the participants of the tournament: perhaps as a good will gesture for beating one another to a bloody pulp Xiaoyu had thought every time she entered a room at this complex. It was a large spacious room painted in beige and a feature wall of an expensive red oriental design that held the headboard of the large Queen-sized bed. The carpet was an immaculate plush cream colour that housed a thick oak wardrobe in one corner, a matching chest of drawers opposite the bed with a large mirror above it and a bedside cabinet that held a wireless phone and cradle, a red lamp and docking station/digital clock combination. Xiaoyu released her case from her sweaty grasp and threw herself on the silk cream and red sheets, mumbling softly as the bed contorted to her shape.
How much does it cost to do this room? The docking alone is worth a fortune… Xiaoyu marvelled at the item on the bedside cabinet before leaping to her feet and investigating the bathroom. It was the same as last year; green and black stained marble in every inch of the space, a large gold tinted walk in shower with matching toilet and basin. The first time she came, she couldn't believe how expensive the bathroom suite was and took several pictures on her phone to show friends at Mishima Polytechnic School as proof of her adventures. Now, for the third time and in two months no less, it had less splendour and magnificence then what it did the first two times. Xiaoyu began to unpack her items into the heavy duty wardrobe and smiled at the small conversation she had with Hwoarang earlier. When she first entered the King of Iron First Tournament she automatically took a disliking to the South Korean because of his undignified and vulgar behaviour towards Jin Kazama, but as the tournaments progressed and Jin became more estranged in his ways, they began to converse more and more until Xiaoyu found herself wondering why she ever disliked him in the first place.
Sure, he was blunt and considered very rude by people, but those who had entered the tournament previously knew this was just his manner and he meant to offence to it, except one. Despite the fondness of him, she never had the courage to tell Jin that she considered his rival a friend and as far as she could she, there was no need. Jin was a peculiar young man who relished solitude and struggled to convey his emotions, unless it was anger…he was quite profound with that emotion; but she and everyone else could never predict his mood or actions he was going to take.
Xiaoyu would never and could ever deny the feelings she had for the young man who was once her peer at school. Even after the bizarre incidents of the first tournament they entered he kept in contact with her, albeit fragmented and over a lengthy time period, but regardless, it was still contact. She remembered how happy she was when she received a postcard stamped from Brisbane, Australia and recognised the neat writing on it. True it was quite a plain abstract postcard with no subtext in it whatsoever, but it made her incredibly happy that despite travelling, he took a moment of out of his life to contact her.
"Xiaoooyuuuuu?" A female voice cooed playfully accompanied by three taps on her door.
The Chinese girl hauled herself off the bed and approached the door, peering tentatively through the 'spy hole' as she called it to see who it was.
A sun kissed Brazilian girl's brown eye took all view of the hole and stared back eagerly causing Xiaoyu to jump with fright.
"Ah-ha, I heard you!" She called on the opposite side of the door, rapping it with her knuckles once more. "Come out, come out."
"Hang on Christie." Xiaoyu unhooked the chain from the door and turned the key to open her door.
Before Xiaoyu had chance to open her mouth, the taller 5.'7" girl swept down and kissed both of her cheeks in greeting. "I missed you!"
Christie was a twenty year old fighter she befriended in the last tournament. It was nice to have female company that did not bore on being promiscuous like Anna or awkward, like it was with Nina. It was just talking about miscellaneous agendas, but in particular, going to the gym and pretending to work out whilst watching some of the younger and leaner male fighters.
"Did your knight ever ask you out?" Christie beamed as if reading the younger girls mind.
She was referring to one of their perverted staring sessions where they were sat with their legs crossed in the corner, listening to music with one earpiece each and watching the men train. Christie had sent Xiaoyu a message that Jin was in desperate need of having his eyebrows waxed, plucked, threaded…just something! Xiaoyu had forgotten the purpose of texting for discretion and blurted out she thought he was perfect whilst staring at the twenty one year old Kazama. Everyone in the room had stopped and stared, including Jin, and followed her eye line to the now receded fighter and began to hoot in glee and wolf whistle.
"No…" Xiaoyu cringed just at the thought of the incident. "I don't think I saw him again after that actually."
Christine took the key from inside Xiaoyu's room and led the girl out; walking down the corridor she placed a hand over the young girls shoulder and squeezed gently. "Maybe it's not a bad thing. You know what they say about Mishima's…"
"They're wankers!" A voice boomed over them from the top of the stairs. The pair did not turn around; they knew by the English accent it was the boxer, Steve Fox.
"You think a Mishima deserves a cute Chinese girl like Xiao?" Christie winked to the blonde boxer as he approached them on the stairs.
"Ho, ho!" His tall 6.'2" frame towered over the girls, tapping Xiaoyu gently on the shoulder he smiled at them both. "I hope it's not Heihachi you had your eyes on. Necrophilia is never good."
The three of them engaged in jovial conversation until they reached the bar area and were collared by more familiar fighters.
"Hey you, how come you get two gorgeous ladies!" Paul, Marshall and Lee waved frantically to Steve who shook his head.
Lei found three more chairs and hurdled round the table with everyone else; King, Julia and Nina were already in the midst of deep conversation and barely noticed their presence. "I'm getting another beer, what're you lot having?" Lei paused before going into the complex.
"Surprise me." Steve smirked.
"One beer for you then." Lei remarked and looked at Xiaoyu expectantly.
"Hey, I said surprise man! Telling me isn't a surprise you bugger." Steve diverted Lei's attention by clicking his fingers at the police officer from Hong Kong.
"Is a beer okay?"
"Well…yeah."
"Shut up then." Lei looked at Xiaoyu with laughter as Steve in his peripheral vision scoffed like an offended house wife and promptly raised his middle finger.
"He's right you know, a surprise doesn't sound like a bad idea." Xiaoyu said, looking at Christie who was laughing at Lei's facial expression.
"Oh lord…" He rolled his eyes and headed into the complex. "Fine. But if you don't like it, it's tough."
"So what's up with Heihachi dying?" Paul interjected into the conversations with his loud boisterous voice. Everyone stopped and acknowledged the three who had joined the table without their knowing.
"I don't believe it." Nina said firmly, looking behind her shoulder at some of the hotel staff. "If he were that easy to die, he would have been dead a long time ago. I can guarantee that."
"It was a big blast though." Lee stared at the mercenaries breasts that were nearly spilling over her vest top. "A big, big-
"I'm up here." Nina covered her breasts with one hand and sipped her cocktail in amusement as the forty eight year old smiled sheepishly. "Men are such perverts."
The conversation continued for another hour and half an hour with everyone stating their opinions of the whole Zaibatsu issue when loud noises came from the entrance to the gym which was slightly ahead of them.
"What the…" Xiaoyu looked back to her peers, confused at the noise and unsure if only she had heard it, but found everyone's attention was also on the door to the gym.
"Something's going down." Paul and Steve exchanged glanced as the noise grew louder.
Suddenly the door to the gym was thrown open and a blazing Hwoarang was escorted by a rather tall and stocky member of staff.
The auburn Korean struggled against the member of staff. "Sir, calm down."
"I'LL KILL HIM, THAT FUCKING KAZAMA!" Hwoarang pulled against the man who was now struggling to keep him at bay. "HIDING IN THE GYM ARE YOU, YOU COWARD! FUCKING COWARD!"
"Please, calm down sir." The staff member said urgently, pushing on his chest gently.
"YOU'RE MOTHER WOULD BE SO ASHAMED SHE RAISED A FUCKING COWARD!"
"Oh shit." Julia whispered and stood up like a few others had done to get a better view of what was going to happen next.
Jin was a dignified and well reserved man who had a lot of patience, but as everyone knew, mentioning his mother in a derogatory manner was like waving a red flag to bull. The other member of staff who was by the door had planted themself firmly by the door, their arms stretching across the frame of the door. His body lunged backwards slightly as a recognisable red and gold studded gauntlet pushed on his body. "I don't think I can hold on much longer!" The staff member cried over to the other who was attempting to calm Hwoarang down.
"Come here and have a drink." Christie shouted to the long haired male who began to lose anger at this comment. "Save fighting for later."
"You're not worth it, fool." The group heard Jin Kazama's stern voice spit venomously to the frustrated male.
"C'mon Horang, leave it alone." Paul called, wanting him to come to them. "Have a beer mate!"
"It's Hwoarang you prat." Marshall shook his head at his bumbling friend.
Hwoarang stood still for a few moments, glaring past the security guard to the darkness of the doorway where he could see Jin walking away.
Just wait Kazama, I'll kick the shit out of you yet
Xiaoyu watched wide eyes as Hwoarang approached her with a chair, but he did not look at her.
"You didn't hurt him did you…?" She asked weakly, looking around and hoping no one had heard the fear in her voice.
"I didn't get to touch him." The man whispered back irritably. "I would have hurt that…I would have hurt him."
"Yo, what happened there?" Lee asked the question all were wondering with the exception of Nina and King who had disappeared at the childish behaviour. "It's day one and you're already at one another's throats?"
"Just smack talk getting out of hand really." Hwoarang unzipped a pocket and produced a cigarette, prompting Paul to do the same. "He said I would get bent over the bins around the back of the building dressed like the faggot I am." His eyes gleamed dangerously as people stifled laughter. "I am not a fucking faggot, maybe he doesn't know what a straight guy looks like anymore after the amount of times his Granddad has boned him."
"I'm leaving." Xiaoyu suddenly rose to her feet to everyone's surprise. "I think Jin is a good man and I don't appreciate you talking about him like that!" She curled her fists by her sides and frog marched back to her bedroom in anger.
"What the hell was all that about?" Christie slapped Hwoarang's shoulder in annoyance as she rose to her seat with Julia following at her heels. "You know she really likes him."
The men watched the two girls disappear after Xiaoyu and briefly discussed the ill fate of a sweet young girl with a man like him before talking about more important matters: the tournament and the throne of the Mishima Zaibatsu Cooperation.