Tekken- Versus

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The everyday hustle and bustle of the city very rarely lets a person relax. It's a strain on the nerves, the type of environment that would make anyone restless and edgy. Daily life is like a crazed maniac running unwittingly toward the edge of a cliff, who then falls off the cliff to a land a steep slope of loose soil and sand, then trys to slow down or climb back up, but it's too late because the nature of gravity already has them and they have no choice but to slip, slide, and fall all the way to the bottom. It would make anyone snap, like someone taking twenty small rubberbands and trying to pull them twenty blocks across. And when a person snaps, they can make one of two choices. They can get either break or they can explode.

Hwoarang was feeling much of the latter. He liked to think of himself as a fairly normal fairly easy going guy. But there was something about thy day that was irritating him, like salt on an open wound, or early morning children's programming, which he missed because he overslept. He just couldn't put a finger on the why he was so perturbed. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't even get to see Jin the finals of the last tournament. But that couldn't be it, because the same exact thing happened during the last tournament as well. He felt that he got over that fairly quickly, although the owner of a particular demolished cafeteria would have said otherwise.

"Hey!"

Maybe because it was a Monday. But why would Monday piss him off? He didn't even work on Monday...Or Tuesday...for that matter. The money he got from his mandatory two years of military service was still providing him with enough income, although that moron Steve Fox had told him the money was meant for college. But having pocket money without working for it was so much better

"Hey you!"

Maybe it was something he ate. He read that drinking Red Bull tends to make people more angry and aggressive. He'd already had 4 of them...

"Hey you orange haired freak! Are you listening to me!"

Hwoarang stopped. 'No' he thought. Whoever that was couldn't have been talking to him. Afterall, the way he was feeling at the moment, doing so would've been a very very bad thing.

"Ah, looks like you finally decided to stop and chat. Hey, turn around! We're talking to you!"

A couple of things were running through Hwaorang's head. He finally figured out his irritation was caused by boredom. So now he had two choices. One, he could just do as he was asked, listen to them, then enjoy kicking their asses. Or he could wait for them to lay thier hands on him, then he could kick their asses. While he pondered this, he also ran through a list of things he needed to buy at Wal-Mart. The orange comment reminded him he also needed something to eat.

"Hey! What the Hell?"

Looks like they were getting impatient, thought Hwoarang. He turned around to get ready to lay some smackdown, then paused when he caught a flash of green and white pass overhead. It took a second for him to register that he just caught the flash of someone's panties.

"What the fuck?" He exclaimed, mirroring his assailants' previous comment. What he saw confused him. He was staring at the shapely backside of a rather tall blond girl, who was decked out in what he was sure was a dress from Burberrys. And on her shoulder was a purse from Fendi. And the only reason he knew any of this was because Xiaoyu had dragged him to go shopping once; which by the way, she would never do again after all the rude comments he made about the prices of some of the items. The issue of such an expensively dressed girl dropping out of the sky surprised him enough, but the fact that she was standing in some guy's face and getting blood all over her white boots from Prada just added to his befuddlement.

He muttered the first thing that came to him, "You're getting blood all over your 600 dollar boots."

She peeked over her shoulder, and Hwaorang dully noted that not only did she have a killer body, but she was pretty gorgeous as well.

She gave him a mischievous smirk. "Actually, they're $589.99. But, you have an eye for fashion. I like that in a guy."

"MFFFGAKAKAKA." Said the man under the sole of her boot.

After stomping her foot once more, she placed a hand on her back and bent down to look at the man she was standing on. Hwaorang noticed the bit of green peeking out from under her skirt, and leaned his head to the side to get a better view.

"Excuse me." She said "Did you say something."

One of the other men rushed forward, knife in hand and slashed at her. "He said 'Get off' BI-ACK," The man had meant to say 'get off bitch', which was actually not what the other guy said...as his fallen comrade was actually making a comment about the view. But in that split second, she hopped back, avoiding the strike, then struck him with a jumping drill kick, which knocked the knife out of his hand. The man stared dumbfounded at the counter, because he was damned sure she just flashed him. Then he glared and rushed forward with a loud battlecry. "YAAAAH!"

Unfortunately, she wasn't in front of him anymore. He finally noticed some movement under him, but by then it was too late as two expensive white boots had connected with his chin and sent him flying. The blond girl flipped back onto her feet, and dusted her hands off.

"Well, that alleviated my boredom a little." She sighed.

"Hands up."

She turned toward the source of the voice and saw the last man was pointing a gun at her. Under her breath she cursed. This was a bad situation, she thought to herself.

"Hey."

Suddenly, the gun was pointing elsewhere as a black cowboy boot had kicked it out of the way. Before the gunman could react, a foot connected with his chin, then to the back of his head. Before he fell, another strike to the stomach lifted him into the air, which was followed by several body blows. If there were anymore strikes that followed, he didn't know as he passed out.

Hwaorang watched the limp body fall to the ground, then scratched his head. "Hey, you could've left me a bit more Princess, my foot's still feeling a little itchy."

The blond girl gave him an appreciative look up and down, and a small smile played on her lips. "I think I might be impressed, Orange-Head."

Hwaorang gave her slight sneer, then said "Hey, you're not so bad yourself girlie." Afterall, the only women he'd seen fight like that were Xiaoyu, Christie, Julia, and the Williams sisters.

The blond girl stepped off the man's face, making sure to grind it once more, then slinked over to him in a way that made Hwaorang notice her hips. Then she reached out a hand and said, "The name's Lili. What's yours?"

Hwaorang took her hand in a firm grip then said, "Name's Hwaorang, pleasure to meet ya."

Lili tapped her chin, then thoughtfully muttered, "Hwa-what?" She jabbed him in the chest then said, "That's too hard to pronounce, from now on, you're Bob."

Hwaorang's smile began to strain. He changed his mind. He seriously wanted to hit this woman.

---

Vengeance, it was the type of justice that was best served cold. Steve Fox mulled this statement over in his head, then nodded to himself in approval. He liked the way that sounded; it carried impact. And it had his two favorite words: Vengeance and Justice. It made him feel like Batman, jumping from building to building in a batsuit, dishing out freezing cold justice, like cold hard ice cream that was left in the fridge for too many months.

He looked up at the buildings, imagining himself in a batsuit, and noticed one particular billboard. It was a billboard advertising the Mishima Zaibatsu. The subject of the ad was Heihachi Mishima, who was dressed in a purple business suit, in the 'nice guy' pose. The big grin and the thumbs up didn't really suit the guy. In reply to the photo, he gave the grinning frozen picture of the Mishima head the bird. 'Take that you bloody f'n sonffa motherfucka.' he thought to himself. He also noticed some silver haired gentlemen dressed in purple painting something in white under Heihachi's photo. But Steve didn't understand kanji all that well, so most of it went over his head. But he did understand the characters for Baka, as Hwaorang had taught him how to write it. He also told him to call Jin Kazama a 'baka', but after seeing that guy in the last tournament, he wasn't sure if he actually wanted to. The word baka was drawn all over that billboard now, noted Steve.

That guy had the right idea.

"Heihachi Mishima is a no good sonoffa dirty wench who fucks elephants for a fucking hobby!" Shouted Steve, "And he drinks 'hs own fucking urine too!"

Of course, no one around him understood a damned word he was saying as his heavy carny accent made him all the less decipherable in the land of the rising sun.

Suddenly the man in purple vanished.

"Did he fall off?" he wondered to himself.

"Hey you."

That was English. Breathing a sigh of relief under his breath, he turned toward the source of the voice. Around him were several black cars and several men in black suits. It was like a scene out of those gangster movies he used to watch back at home. His sense of relief fell through the trap door it was standing on, and his eye twitched in irritation. 'Oh, now this is shitty.' he thought to himself.

The lead man in black who had called him earlier, took a step forward. "Did you just...say something rather unpleasant about Mr. Heihachi Mishima?"

Several alarms were going off in Steve's head. Maybe this wasn't a bad thing... "Yes, What's it to you?"

"We work for Mr. Mishima-MFAGAGFGA!H!"

Steve removed his fist from the man's face. "Agents that worked for Mishima! And they looked like yakuza too! Sweet! Vengeance! Justice!" Thought Steve to himself.

"Why you!" Yelled one of the men, "What did you do?"

Steve waved them forward, and taunted "You want to find out Mr. Puppy? Then come over here and let me show you."

The collective sound of metal batons being drawn was his reply, and Steve grinned ferally. This was going to be fun.

One man with a particularly long ponytail approached him, swinging his baton around like a drumstick, "Fool, talking shit about Mr. Mishima. We'll show you."

"Excuse me."

Everyone paused. That sounded like a girl's voice, and it sounded like it came from behind them long haired man. Said man turned around. "What is...ACK!" Was all he got out before a foot to the face sent him flying.

Two boots tapped to the ground. Steve looked up some bare leg, and saw that they belonged to a brown haired girl in a strangely cut biker's outfit. The girl strode over to the fallen man, who was slowly getting up. "What the fu...ARGH!" Before he could say anything else, the girl had mule kicked him, right into the side of the car, She then stomped up to his limp body, and crouched to his eye level. A look of absolute hate masked her cute face, and she yelled, "Finally got you, you murder...er..." She leaned closer, and narrowed her eyes. Then she moved away, stood up, and laughed. "Whoops! Totally the wrong person!" She chuckled under her breath.

"Like Hell!" Yelled everyone else. Steve just scratched his nose. Who was this girl?

She looked back and forth between Steve and the gang all dressed in black as she walked away. "Well sorry if I'm interrupting something, you can continue filming, acting, or whatever..."

One of the men held a baton to her neck, and growled, "So sorry girlie. This ain't a movie set." He gave the girl an appreciative look up and down and smacked his lips, "And if we are filming anything, it'll be you, me, and whatever guy we can find off the street."

She met his gaze straight on, and said calmly, "So...you are actually bad people then?"

He grinned lewdly at her. "Damn straight." He oozed.

She smiled brightly back at him and exclaimed, "Good!"

"Huh?" Suddenly, he was being pulled somewhere, then the world spun around, and he was on his back.

It took him a second to get his bearings. "What the fuck just happened?" He sputtered. His indignation was silenced as he was back kicked in the face.

The girl dusted her hands, "Well, that's one down!"

She turned to the group, her gaze falling on Steve several times. "Y'know I don't like bad guys!" She proclaimed, "Bad boy's are OK, as they can be damned sexy sometimes, but total assholes deserve to be punished!"

One of the men closest to her yelled in exasperation. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

He was promptly palmed in the face.

"That means evil will be punished, jerk."

Steve cocked his head to the side. This girl seemed to know what she was doing...sortof. And she didn't seem all that bad either. But who the heck was she? Now was just as good a time as any to find out, he figured. "Hey!" He shouted.

She gave him a wary look. "Yes?"

Steve extended a hand to the girl, then said, "Name's Steve Fox. Looks like we'll be working together to take out these bad guys. So what's your name?"

She stared at his hand for a second, then took it in a firm grip.

"Name's Asuka Kazama."

Steve played with the name in his head. Kazama? Now why did that sound familiar? Movement out of the corner of his eye told him he could figure it out later, there was a mess that needed cleaning up.

--tbc---

Author's Notes: Need to do some refining to the story, but I think I can post this as is for now. The main characters are Hwaorang, Steve, Lili, and Asuka.

More Author's notes 06/05: Damn, it was reviewed before I could add this. Btw, thanks, I appreciate it! Anyway, the first part of this story was influenced by Seven if Spades' Bob/Lili fic, Steve/Asuka fics are a just as hard to come by, but I just found a couple, so I may use those for inspiration. I haven't even touched on Lili and Asuka's meeting yet, which is the basis for this fic. Heh, that's going to fun.

Expect a slight rewrite of the second half.

More to come. (Hopefully!)