A/N: I know, I know. I should be working on Never Ever, but I got the idea for this and I just had to write it. I'm looking forward to Wimbledon, and as such, this fic is kind of tennis themed. For anyone who's not familiar with tennis, I'll explain the terms I used in this fic. (With the help of Wikipedia since I suck at explaining tennis.)

The points system goes like this: 15 - 30 - 40 - Win. To win a game, a player has to win four points in total and at least two more than their opponent.
A fault is a serve (a shot to start a point) that is long, wide, or doesn't go over the net.
An ace is a serve that goes untouched by the opponent's racquet and so is unreturned.
In tournament play, the end of the match is announced with the phrase "Game, set, match" followed by the winning person's or team's name.

Prompt word is number 22: revenge. And yes, this particular 'revenge' idea's been done before, but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this fic. (Oh yeah, almost forgot. It's set during the fourth tournament.) And thank you to the awesome people who reviewed the last update!


Game, Set, Match.


The final blow was unexpected, like an ace shot in a tennis match that slammed past before he could even react. Match point awarded to Jin Kazama. It had been a simple roundhouse, unexpected enough that it might as well have come out of nowhere, though he knew that if he hadn't been pushed to breaking point, if he wasn't so tired and angry, and if the adrenaline had lasted just a little longer and prevented the pain from creeping through and dimming his focus, he might have anticipated it and made some attempt to block or evade. Now though, he was struggling to get to his knees, sprawled among shattered glass from one of the telephone booths he'd kicked the bastard through earlier on in the battle. So, this was what it felt like to be on the losing side.

He hadn't experienced such a feeling in a long time, the reason being that for one thing, he was just that fucking amazing, and for another, defeat was not something that came easily to him. Even when it seemed like there was no possible hope of victory, he would inevitably discover some sign of weakness in an opponent, some small crack in their defences, something he could exploit. This time though...

As he finally managed to get to his feet, dusting himself off and biting back the anger and shame, the sound of light, quick footsteps reached his ears. He raised his head, and Ling Xiaoyu offered him a small smile.

"I know this probably won't be any consolation... but I thought you did great."

'Why should I care?' he wanted to snap. 'Do I look like I want to hear that I did great after I just fucking lost?'

"I... um, I really enjoyed the match." she told him, trying to fill the silence. "I watched it the whole way through."

Of course she did, she and Kazama were close. At first, Hwoarang had assumed they were dating, but no, they were 'just good friends'. As if. The fond glances and sickeningly shy smiles that Kazama constantly directed at her hadn't escaped his notice. He was also aware of how the pigtailed girl would gaze at him on occasion, and how she'd blush and look away when he caught her. Even now, her cheeks were flushed slightly as she stood awkwardly waiting for a reply.

"So glad you enjoyed it, kid." He answered, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Dunno what I'd have done if it turned out you'd been sat there bored the whole time I was blocking punches with my face."

"Kid?" she repeated, completely ignoring the rest of the swipe. Something else he hadn't expected, figuring she'd get upset and stalk off to talk to golden boy instead. "Hey, I'm only three years younger than you, you know. I'm not a kid anymore."

Hwoarang's gaze slipped languidly down her body, taking in the soft curves of her breasts and hips.

"Hm, guess you're right." he murmured, eyes meeting hers, an idea beginning to spark and take shape. "Definitely not a kid anymore."

No, the game wasn't over. It had just been 0 - 15 in Jin Kazama's favour. And, judging by how Xiaoyu's face reddened over that one small comment, it was now fifteen all.


15 - 15


"It's been a while since we've been able to sit together like this."

Xiaoyu's voice. She and Kazama were sitting nearby, having walked into the hotel restaurant about ten minutes after he'd got settled down to eat, and although he'd itched to leap up and slam Kazama's smug face through a table, Xiaoyu's pleased blush at the sight of him was enough evidence that if he just waited a little longer, payback would be that much sweeter.

"Yeah." Kazama replied. "Well, we've both been busy."

"Yeah, well, I don't have that worry anymore." she answered, sounding annoyed. "In case you forgot, I lost today."

Fault.

"Sorry, Xiao."

"No... don't worry about it... It's just frustrating. I just keep dwelling on the stupid mistakes I made, you know? Like if I'd just done this instead of that, I could've been celebrating a win right now."

"Yeah, you're bound to do that. At least you can learn from them, right?"

"I guess." There was a long pause, the clinking of cutlery and buzz of conversation a constant in the background. "I'm glad you're here, Jin."

"You are?" The hope in Kazama's voice was unmistakable.

"Yeah. I dunno whether it's the same for you, but I think it's comforting to have a friend in a place like this, where everyone's super competitive. Plus, even though I lost, I can still cheer you on."

"I guess so..."

If Xiaoyu picked up on his disappointment, she made no mention of it.

"So..." he started after a short silence. "What did you and Hwoarang talk about after the match?"

"Wh-what? Oh... nothing, really."

She sounded like she was smiling.


30 - 15


The glow of the solar lamps dotting the pathway outside was gently fading as Hwoarang sat next to the window, pondering the best way to score his next point. Getting her alone would be a good place to start, he thought with irritation, eyes resting on Xiaoyu as she slotted coins into the jukebox and started to scroll through the track listings.

Kazama was sitting at their table, drinking orange juice, of all things. Hwoarang rolled his eyes in disbelief. Somehow, losing to a guy who goes into a bar and orders fucking orange juice made the defeat all the more annoying. The song on the jukebox finished, and peppy top 40 pop filled the air. A perfect ending to a perfect day. Thank fuck the beer was free.

He stared out of the window at the flickering lamps for a moment before letting his eyes slowly unfocus and his consciousness drift until the noise and music merged into an unobtrusive hum, like a television playing nothing but static.

"You want to go now? But there's another three songs yet." Xiaoyu's voice brought his focus back.

"I've got another match tomorrow, Xiao. Need to catch up on my rest since I'll be up early for this one."

"Well, that was a waste of money." she muttered, and Jin pushed his chair back, standing up.

"You don't have to come with me." he told her. "Stay here and listen to the rest of your music if you want."

"You know, I think I will. I'm not even finished with this yet." She waved her drink at him.

"Well don't go overboard."

"I won't." For all her annoyance at being labelled a kid, she sure did sound like a petulant child.

"I'm not saying that. Just... I know you feel bad about your match, so... don't go overboard."

"Actually, I wasn't even thinking about it until you just brought it up. Thanks for reminding me, Jin. Really."

"Sorry... I didn't mean..." He sighed, shaking his head. "Look, I'll see you later."

Xiaoyu didn't reply.

Second fault of the game, Kazama.

Later, walking back from the bar, another beer in hand, he heard Xiaoyu call his name.

"Hey, over here!" she waved.

"You here by yourself?"

"Yeah. I could do with some company though."

"Well, I suppose I've got nowhere better to be."

"Charming." she shot back, but her eyes were sparkling with amusement as he sat down opposite her.

Two drinks after that, Hwoarang had to admit he was pretty surprised with Xiaoyu. Somehow, they'd managed to make actual conversation. And despite the childish, pigtailed persona, after a while she'd started responding to his suggestive comments with laughter and occasional innuendo of her own instead of getting flustered and changing the subject. No, Ling Xiaoyu was definitely not the sugary sweet, innocent type he'd expected. Though she still blushed incredibly easily, which amused him.

"You do realise," he told her, taking a swig of beer, "that Kazama wants in your pants?"

Xiaoyu shook her head with a laugh.

"He does not."

"Yeah, he does."

"Does not! Why does everyone assume that? We're just friends!"

She was completely serious, and he couldn't help but laugh. She could pick up on a double-entrendre effortlessly, yet she seemed oblivious to Kazama's obvious hard-on for her. Or maybe she was in denial because the thought of sexing a guy so boring he ordered orange juice was too grim to contemplate. He kinda hoped it was the latter. Either way, he reasoned, it was enough to subtract points from Kazama.


30 - 0


The suggestion that she come up to his room to carry on their chat after had been a risk, but it had paid off, most likely helped along by the alcohol flowing through her system and clouding her judgement. Again, thank fuck that the beer was free. People tended to have more than they should when they didn't have to pick up the tab, and Xiaoyu was no exception. Not that she was completely incapable of making her own decisions at this point. She hadn't knocked that many cocktails back.

Her suggestion that her own room was closer had been a welcome surprise, and the slow but smooth progression from harmless joking and flirting to kissing to undressing to pressing her to the bed and sliding inside her, her face buried in his shoulder, legs wound around him, was even more welcome. She gave soft sighs of pleasure as he trailed his lips down her throat and over her chest, and when he kissed her she moaned into his mouth.

Afterwards, he lay awake and stared up at the ceiling. Her slow, even breathing indicated she was sleeping, so by all accounts, he could get up, get dressed, and leave without waking her. If he wanted.


40 - 0


Kazama's muffled voice tore Hwoarang from a dreamless sleep, and he forced his eyes open to see Xiaoyu, clad in an oversized t-shirt with a panda on the front that barely reached the tops of her thighs, a slight wave to her unbrushed hair. He'd tangled his fingers in her hair when he came.

"Xiao, are you in there? You okay?"

"I... I'm fine..."

"Can I come in?"

"No! I, uh, I just showered. I'm not dressed!"

"You weren't at my match... Did you have too much to drink? I told you not to go overboard!"

"Chill, Kazama." Hwoarang grinned, putting his arms behind his head and leaning back against the pillows. "She's fine."

Ace.

Xiaoyu turned to him, eyes wide in disbelief, and he shrugged at her.

"Well..." he continued breezily, "Having said that, she did look like she needed to lie down last night... But don't worry, she's got a lot more colour in her cheeks now."

Kazama was silent.

Game, set, match.