A/N: Choppy chapter, I know. Sorry! I've found it hard to write well recently, and this chapter probably shows it… Oh well. I'm a trier if nothing else, haha. One more after this, and we're done. I'm a little sad, actually. I enjoy writing this fic so much! And I enjoy reading your comments too, so don't hesitate to leave me a review.

Chapter 21: What's Left
Jin heard her earrings jangle as she shook her head, and he looked down into his cup as Xiaoyu walked out of the kitchen. A few moments later he could hear her footsteps on the stairs, and he stared at his reflection in the black coffee for a few moments more before he threw it across the room with a cry of frustration. The sound of the cup breaking against the floor rang in his ears, making his head throb, and he clutched at his hair with one hand.

This wasn't happening. How could she do something like that? How could anyone do something like that? Jin closed his eyes, and suddenly he was nineteen again, pulling on his red studded gloves as he made his way outside into the courtyard at the Iron Fist Tournament, and she was there. Black hair shining in the sunlight, pigtails bobbing as she jumped from foot to foot. She turned around and spotted him, recognition lighting up her face, and ran over.

"You go to my school, don't you?"

He didn't remember her, if she'd ever talked to him. The faces of people he went to school with all merged into one, he'd had no inclination to make friends or have girlfriends. But Xiaoyu...

After the tournament, he'd got a job at Mishima Corporation. His grandfather had told him he should begin low and aim high, so although he could have been an executive just for his family attachments, Heihachi had given him a job as executive assistant. He'd worked his fingers to the bone to get where he was today, done everything that had been asked of him, and after Heihachi disappeared and he was promoted to CEO, everyone else had done everything that he asked of them. No questions, no complaints, and though it had made him feel awkward at first, he'd grown used to it over time. Maybe that was why he couldn't get used to Xiaoyu getting upset with him when things didn't go her way. He'd been spoiled by the obedience he encountered everyday at work.

To his employees and peers, his life was perfect. Great job, and a sweet, caring wife. They would always tell him how charming Xiaoyu was when she came with him to the company functions. But then she'd started to change. He didn't like it. He liked things to be in order, to be predictable; he liked being in control of his life and his emotions. Maybe a life like that seemed uninteresting to other people, but he preferred it to constant surprises. The changes in Xiaoyu didn't happen overnight, but still... All he'd ever wanted since they first met was to take care of her, to be needed. Maybe that was old fashioned in this day and age, but it was what he wanted.

He knew that sometimes he pushed her away, made her angry. He remembered how hurt she'd look when he turned down sex, but... things had got better again, hadn't they? Or had she just put on a facade? Because of him? Was this whole thing his fault?

No. He wouldn't start blaming himself. Anger was starting to prickle at him, growing more powerful than the sadness and hurt. No way. He wasn't the one who'd been unfaithful, she was. He hadn't fucked someone else. He was the wounded party here, not her. It was her fault.

But... it must have been an illusion, that happy, smiling face she'd suddenly started showing him again. Kind of like the impassive, calm face he'd just shown her. That mask he put on so often that it was a subconscious thing now. He never let his emotions get the better of him at work, if he had, he never would have got promoted. He was just so used to doing it that it had started to creep into his everyday life. And she'd given up on him. Could he really blame her for the whole thing? It wasn't like she hadn't tried talking to him. He was usually great at reading people's real feelings. So why hadn't he picked up on Xiaoyu's?

Jin reached for the mop and mindlessly began to wipe up the coffee from the floor. Truthfully, it wasn't the fact that she'd seemed to be happy and things had been good again, like before. Nor was it how he'd had no idea that things weren't perfect again that was making him so angry, making indignation bubble up in his chest and his fists tighten on the mop handle.

It wasn't the betrayal.

It wasn't even the images that kept flashing through his head of Xiaoyu with someone else, their hands on her, mouth on her, someone whose name he didn't need to know.

It was the fact that he loved her, even now, even after everything. He wanted to be indifferent to her, to shut off any feelings he had left for her, but his heart just wouldn't co-operate with him, even as he tried to hate her and swore that he couldn't, and wouldn't, forgive or forget.

Xiaoyu had heard the crash of the coffee cup hitting the floor, and she winced. Booking her flight could wait. She had to talk to someone.

"Hey."

Miharu looked up from her laptop, surprised.

"Xiao, I didn't realise it was you." She stood up, running her fingers through her hair. "Why didn't you tell Mei to tell me? I wouldn't have kept you waiting so long!"

"It's okay, you were busy. I didn't want to disturb you."

Xiaoyu had been in the reception of Miharu's office building for ten minutes while her receptionist waited for a callback, trying to sort through things in her head. Like where she was going to live when she got back from China, and how she was going to afford it. She had no doubt that Jin would offer the money for a place for her, but she wanted to pay for it herself. If she and Jin weren't going to be together any more, she couldn't very well rely on him to fund things all the time.

Not together anymore.

Separated.

Her eyes stung, but she didn't cry. What good would it do, anyway? It was over, there was nothing left. Jin would never change, and he would never forgive her.

"It could have waited." Miharu replied. "Are you okay? You look a bit weird." She narrowed her eyes a little. "If it's anything to do with you having sex with Hwoarang for the fiftieth time, I don't want to know."

"I told Jin." Xiaoyu said softly. "Last night."

"About ...that?"

"About that."

"Wow." She shook her head. "What did he do?"

"He didn't believe me at first..." Xiaoyu blinked rapidly, trying to stop her eyes from filling with tears. "Then when he realised I wasn't lying, he..."

She could see him, his eyes wide and disbelieving, him shaking his head, his mouth trying to form words, and the choked whisper of 'You didn't really... I'm listening now... just tell me you didn't...' His hand clutching hers, as if somehow it would change things. Miharu stepped forward to wrap her arms around her as the tears spilled down her face, and Xiaoyu buried her face in her friend's sweater.

"Hey, that's cashmere, y'know."

"I made him cry."

"What did you expect?" Miharu asked gently.

"I don't know... that he'd get mad. Throw me out. Call me something horrible. I never thought... I knew I'd hurt him, but..."

"Seeing him upset like that brought it home, huh?"

"He was so… I don't think he even realised I was unhappy, Miharu."

"Did you ever tell him?"

"Not outright. But it's not like I didn't show it… and we're married. He should have known I wasn't happy."

"Maybe."

"Anyway… I can't…" Xiaoyu sighed, shaking her head. "I have to book a flight. Can you help me with it?"

"Hold on, I don't thing fleeing the country's really necessary, is it?"

"I said I'd visit mum."

"Does it have to be so soon?"

"I can't stay at home... at Jin's..."

"You can stay with me until you're sorted." Miharu smiled at her, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "As long as you can stand the mess, that is."

"Miharu..." Xiaoyu wanted to tell her how grateful she was, how she didn't deserve such a great friend, but Miharu shook her head before she could find the words.

"Hey, it's no problem." She blew out a breath, checking her watch. "You wanna get some dinner? I'm starving."