Here We Go Again
Hehe, I just love this couple. Well, the song "Here We Go Again" is sung by Demi Lovato, and seems like the type that would ultimately describe their relationship: Can't live with him, Can't live without him. Well I don't own these characters or this song, but sure, enjoy this fic.
beware: Asuka might be a just a little too OOC
I just couldn't stand him anymore. I've had too much of him. I'm done with him.
"Hwoarang! How many times have you used that excuse?! About a few million times already! I thought I didn't want you getting into any other fights!" My voice raged in the midst of the deep Tokyo night. We again stood in front of a bar, having the same argument as last week. Yes, my boyfriend had again picked a brawl at the local bar, and it's ruining our status at the Iron Fist Tournament 6.
"Why the hell are you on my back so much?! Just piss off, you prick!" His drunken stupor left him swaying slightly. His deep brown eyes blinked many times under the neon lights of the street.
"Y'know what, I'm going back to the hotel. By myself. I don't need your drunken ass all over the place. Go screw yourself, you drunk bastard." Out of anger, my fist suddenly rose and caught him in the eye, leaving a throbbing, purple splotch. Tears had started to form at the ends of my eyes and I immediately walked away from the alcoholic mess.
I hadn't gotten far when a firm arm grabbed me and pulled me back to his face. His eyes blazed against me, and I felt a little piece of me die inside.
"You little bitch. You'd think I'd go around busting everyone's ass, when you don't even remember how many times I've saved yours. So don't go trying to please everyone and your ego, you smartass." Hwoarang's eyes flared up at mines, and though I knew he was still drunk, he still spoke the truth.
I-I just couldn't take it anymore. My lip quivered and a tear streamed down my cheek. Unable to retort to his remark, I took my free hand and strung it across his face, hard and strong. He brought a hand to rub the sore mark and I ripped free of his hold.
"You know what? I regret ever getting with you in the first place. You're a lazy, cocky, drunk asshole with an ego bigger than your head. I don't have time for you." Backing away slowly, I turned around and ran back to the direction of the hotel. Tears flew through the ear, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment.
I think I'm taking this break-up too hard. It's been only a week and a half since I last spoke to him, yet I feel so empty. My last match- Craig Marduk, was it? It was too close. I didn't have the usual pep and go, and I nearly lost that match.
Everywhere I go, anytime of the day, whatever I'm doing. All I think about is Hwoarang. But why? Why do I think of him? I find it so impossible to get over him, and I don't understand why. He's done me wrong so many times, yet there's always something about him that makes me wanna go back to him...
Aw, what the hell, Asuka! I can't simply crawl back to him, nor can i keep going on like this! Get a hold of yourself, Asuka. Remember: He is a lazy, cocky, drunken asshole. Ugh. I need a break from love, because it seems to be dragging me down lately. My next match is within a few days. I should just relax and get my mind cleared, then focused again.
Yeah, that seems like a nice plan.
…..
I walked down from my room in the hotel down to the one of the gathering areas on the 1st floor, where they were posting some of the ranking percentages of the fights of the week before and the week recently. I strode through the extravagant lobby, parents chasing their children, some cafes open for business. Taking a quicker walk, I felt a little of my old excitement coming back in me, and so I smiled for the first time that week.
My boots making quiet clacks against the white marbled floor tiles, I walked into the grand gathering hall, where they had already hoisted up the easels that held up the poster board. Checking my watch for time, it said 9:48 A.M. I was pretty early so I wouldn't get caught in any crowds or rumbles.
Happily, I checked the leaderboards for my name. I stood in at 12th, which I thought was pretty good, since I was down three spots last week, right above Craig Marduk and Christie Monteiro. Pretty pleased with myself, I turned around to go back to my hotel room.
That's when the tables turned.
Right when I made a forwards step, I caught my eyes with "he-who-should-not-be-named". You know the one.
Our gazes locked for a second, and we both froze. He didn't have his usual bad boy attire on, but instead he was wearing a normal black hoodie, with indigo jeans and some flat deck shoes. He didn't seem as attentive as he used to be, and there seem to be more bruises on his face than what I first inflicted on him. And within that split-second, I noticed his face wasn't all that cheery, but instead was of ultimate downheartedness.
And then all these memories and feelings came flooding back, and suddenly I didn't feel so nice anymore.
Feeling enraged, I managed to keep it down to a small amount and immediately I rushed past his sorry face. Of course, I didn't take steps any more than two and I was stopped by him. His arm grabbed mines, but it was a softer feel.
"Asuka, please. Please, just talk to me..." His voice was pleading and heartfelt, and I felt a little piece of myself die once again.
Not knowing what to do, I just shook off his arm and ignored him, that flustered look on face not wanting to be seen again. 'Bloody bastards like him don't deserve to hear my voice until they can win back my respect.', I thought. I strode off from the defeated Hwoarang, from who I could hear a small downhearted sigh. My mind short-circuited for just a bit. I don't know what to do anymore with him.
…
It's been two days since we last saw each other (he prefers to stay at his apartment rather than inside the hotel with all the other fighters), and he's been bombarding me with pleads ever since. Every hour or so, I'd get a text message from him or maybe even a missed call with a voice message. It annoyed me, because no matter how much he tried, he cannot reach my soft spot anymore. At least, not yet. And yet, out of curiosity, I can still urge myself to read some of these messages and maybe even listen to his voice one more time.
Ugh. Why Hwoarang, why.
Just to try and get my thoughts away from that bloody prick of an ex-boyfriend, I decided to curl up on my bed with my iPod nano(fancy little American music player. And my goodness- 9 colors!) and a nice magazine. I scrolled through my brand new little iPod and clicked on "Demi Lovato". The song "Here We Go Again" started playing and I started rocking my head to the beat, and I listened to the clear lyrics. The song described a love/hate relationship between her and someone, and then I thought about me and Hwoarang. Absent-mindedly, I started humming the lyrics.
'I throw all of your stuff away, then I clear you out of my head. I tear you out of my heart, and ignore all of your messages. I tell everyone that we are through, cause I'm so much better without you. But it's just another pretty lie, cause I break down, every time you come around...'
I just don't know if I should give him a second chance. A chance to prove he really, truly cares for me.
At that moment, at the climax of the song, my phone rang. Subconsciously, I instantly reached for it and answered it. It was Hwoarang.
"Hello? Asuka?" His voice sounded so wonderful.
"Ummm...yeah, it's me." My speech cracks, partially because it's just so awkward to be having a normal conversation with him all of a sudden.
"Asuka, I know you're mad at me, but this is probably not the right place to be talking out our feelings. That's why I want to talk to you in person."
I was in utter shock. I don't think I've never seen or heard this side of him before. I hesitated for a moment, thinking of something to answer him with. Should I get mad? Should I ignore him? Should confess to him right now? Or should I just hang up? All these things rushing through my head all at the same time, it's making my cranium swell.
"...Asuka, you still there?"
I completely forgot he was still on the line.
"Uhh.... Errr, yeah. H-Hwoarang, I'm giving you one more chance to win back my respect. If you're not even capable of making it here within the hour, we're done for." I stuttered and stammered for a bit, waiting for a reply.
"You have my word, Asuka Kazama. I'll see you there." His voice seemed a just a bit more cheerier, and then he hung up.
My heart beat at an insane rate but I wasn't sure why. I don't think I'm supposed to be that thrilled... I decided to listen to Demi Lovato even more, and she seemed like a nice singer. I looked at the clock. It said 5:43. 'I do hope he comes...'
Minutes pass and I'm almost nearly done reading my magazine. I seem to be a little drowsy, for the bed and the comforter are totally doing a number on me. I look lazily at the wall clock again. '6:23 already?! Hwoarang, where are you...?' My eyes drift closed, and go to sleep for just a bit.
…
I woke up with a yawn, my earphones tangled around my ears still blaring the same song, and my body sprawled all over the bed. I look up again at the wall clock. '7:18. He's done it again. That's it, I'm done with him.' I sat lonely on that bed, my conscience screaming. I felt so foolish, and it feels just so horrible.
Seconds after I wake up, my phone rings again. 'Heh. Hwoarang. I better answer just to see if he has an excuse. I wanna give him a piece of mind...' Infuriated, I snapped open the phone and answered.
"Hello, is this Ms. Kazama?"
It was an unfamiliar voice.
"Uh... Yes, I am. Who is this?"
"I am Dr. Hideo Toshikobi. I am informed that you are a relation to a young man named Hwoarang?"
A little intrigued, I answered the man. "...Y-Yeah. W-What happened to him?"
"...At around 5:55, just a few hours ago, the police were informed that there had been a motorcycle crash around the bend of Toshiba Avenue. Hwoarang was found within the wreckage."
My mouth quivered again and tears swelled at the corners of my eyes. "I-Is he okay? Alive?!" Words spilled out all at once in a jumbled mess.
"He was suffering severe injuries, but we managed to keep him alive. He is sleeping right now, I presume. It would be grateful if you were to come right now to keep him company."
"A-Alright, thank you Dr. Toshikobi." I hung up on the doctor and I rushed to get changed. I was too scared to even think straight, so I looked like a mess when I ran out my hotel door.
…
"Is anyone by the name of Hwoarang staying here?"
"Why yes, 4th floor, room 278."
I was so excited to see him, yet so scared at the same time. As I dashed through the pure white hospital corridors, I prayed to myself.
I entered the room with utter care and silence, and I stared in shock at the mess before me. Hwoarang lay in the gurney with an arm and leg wrapped and slung onto a harness. His left eye- the one I had jabbed a week and a half prior -had gotten worse. His cheek was swollen and bruises and cuts littered across his jaw and neck. His shirt had been taken off, and there were visible stitches on his muscles. A cotton gauze was taped over a wound on his forehead.
Feeling so horrid on the inside, I started to cry silently. I sat in the chair on his left, looking down at his fragile human body. He looked so helpless and I think that all we've done the whole week is ignore each other and fight. I held his free hand delicately, not wanting to injure him any longer. I took my other hand and caressed his faces softly, moving stray red hairs away from blocking his face. My tears still continued to stream, though I knew he was alive since his heart was beating.
"Hwoarang, I love you so much... I don't ever want to lose you ever again..."
And as if he heard my plead, through my teary pupils I saw his eyes fluttering open. My heart stopped beating at an insane rate and I felt just a bit better than last time.
His eyes stared at me softly, and then his cheeks turned red. "Asuka... You came for me... B-But why? I thought you still hated me...?" His voice was raspy, unlike the lovely one I would die to hear all the time.
"Hwoarang... I know we may have our ups and downs, and good times and bad, but no matter what, I still love you." I smiled shyly at him.
His eyes widened just a little. "R-Really...?" I couldn't stand his voice, so I had to silence him before he hurt himself.
"Yes, yes I do." I laid a hand on his face and lowered my head down to his face. Our eyes locked for a moment, his warm brown ones meeting my chocolate ones. I smiled at him one last time, before fully locking our lips together. Our lips melded together, and I felt better inside.
I frowned slightly at all his bruises and cuts. "Hwo-kun? How'd you get all those cuts and bruises back when we fought in the lobby?" I suddenly blacked on why I just said that. How rude of me.
Hwoarang smiled at me genuinely and blushed slightly. "These-", he said as he pointed at his bruises, "-were from the fight the day after we broke up. I was up against Feng Wei. Normally, I would've kicked his ass easily, but I was still trying to get over the break-up that I wasn't able to focus very well. I was sure depressed that day." He chuckled lightly then trailed off.
In sympathy, I stroke his cheek once more. "No matter, because I forgive you, Hwoarang."
"...T-Thanks." He manages to grin once more at me, before I lean down and kiss him once more.
I guess I can't live with him, or without him, but that doesn't matter, does it?