Author's Note: I absolutely LOVE System of a Down. They're my favourite band and have been for four years. I've written to Serj Tankian, the lead singer, and got a signed T-shirt back from them in the post. I've loved them ever since. I'm upset that they're on hiatus though :(

System of a Down - Streamline

I wasn't there for you,

I wasn't there for you.

He lies here, in his grief, his lament. He cannot find it within himself to get up, his eyes reflecting sheer guilt. Maybe if he'd stopped being so tenacious and started living, then maybe he wouldn't be in this mess - sprawled out on the lumpy mattress he shamefully called his sleeping quarters, he could have saved Jin from his death if he'd actually listened to the Japanese man.

I know the weather's gonna be fine,

But I can't see you across the streamline,

My love waits for me in daytime,

But I can't see you through the snowblind.

Hwoarang got up from his place on the 'bed' and dragged his feet to the mini fridge in the corner of the room, pulling a beer from it and kicking it shut with a tap of his foot. His mind was vacant of everything except Jin and he hated himself for it. How could he have been so weak? Whenever he tried to think of fighting, Jin arose from the depths of his mind. If he tried to screw his lady of the evening, Jins face would loom in his vision.

The redheads appearance showed drastic changes since Jins death. He'd lost weight, though none of his muscle mass. His eyes had dark rings beneath them, accompanied by his cheekbones, which were gaunt and hollow. The Blood Talon fell back onto the creaky mattress after picking up the bottle opener on the table housing a picture of him and his father. He never knew who his dad was, but his mother gave Hwoarang a picture of him when he was twelve. She died shortly after that.

But I wasn't there for you,

You are gone,

Goodbyes are long,

Goodbye,

Goodbye,

I wasn't there for goodbye,

I wasn't there for goodbye.

The depressed Korean took a swig of his beer with a two second tip of the bottle, the movement sending copper tendrils to fall over his eyes. His roots were showing more black than he usually allowed... but the truth was that he just didn't care anymore. He wished he was able to confront Jin and declare every thought that went through his mind; or failing that, apologize for constantly pursuing the young Kazama about their rematch.

Well, I know time reveals in hindsight,

I can't wrestle with the stormy night,

Because your love lasts a lifetime,

But I can see you through the snowblind.

His fellow gang members left him be during his mourning. 'I'm just tired from the tournament, alright? Beating all those amateurs into the ground took a lot out of me,' was what he had told them with easy, cool arrogance, knowing that they'd seen right through the line of bullshit. But he ignored it. He didn't care about what they thought.

He'd kept an article of a newspaper from when the fifth tournament was being held. It was about Jin inheriting the Mishima Zaibatsu after he won the tournament, and knowing that he had something to remind him of Jin comforted him a little.

Jin may have been dead, but at least Hwoarang had something to remember Kazama by when times seemed bad.

But I wasn't there for you,

You are gone,

Goodbyes are long,

You are gone,

Goodbyes are long,

Goodbye.

Still, Jin was dead - and nothing Hwoarang could do would bring him back.

With an angry yell, he threw the bottle at the wall, sending alcohol slithering down the filthy walls. He locked his fingers into his hair and buried his face into his pillow to stifle his cries.

I wasn't there for you,

I wasn't there,

I wasn't there for you,

Well, I wasn't there for you,

You are gone,

Goodbyes are long,

Goodbye,

Goodbye,

Goodbye.

Hwoarang lifted his head from the pillow, "Goodbye, Kazama."