If it is in normal style, then it is speech.
If it is in italics, then it is thought.
If it is in bold, then it is the individual's natural tongue.
If it is underlined, then it is Devil and Angel.
Generally, if it is in italics and has singular quotation marks ( ' ' ) then it is Mental Speech.
Don't own any characters except Razer, Detective Burton and the rest of the gang (excluding Hwoarang).
All other characters belong to Namco.
Author's Note: Jin's Ending is done! Posting this now because I r sew happeh that it is! Hwo's is almost done too :D :D :D Oh, and I don't think that Jin x Razer fans will be very happy with this chapter –shifty eyes- Enjoy regardless :P I couldn't resist an update XD And a quick reminder, forgive any spelling errors, my spell check died back in Chapter 34.
Chapter Thirty-Six: When It Rains
Despite that little joyful experience, Razer had taken an emotional turn for the worst once she was out of hospital the next day at 7am sharp.
She had led herself to her room, secluding herself in there, alone, for hours and hours on end with one person on her mind.
Jin.
Where was he? Was he alright? Was he recovering from his own wounds? Did he realise it wasn't his fault that she was hurt like this? Did he realise that it was okay? That she wasn't angry? That no one blamed him? That no one thought of him, or her for that matter, any differently because of their Genes? That everything was okay?
The Greek had encountered Miharu in the hotel. Her smile was wide and true, and her greeting hug was gentle. She was glad to see her out of that damn bed, and alive and well, but was puzzled as to why Hwoarang was not accompanying her. The petite youth got a quiet answer out of her friend eventually, which was merely 'I asked him not to'. This in itself was highly unusual for her, and Hirano found herself scratching her head as the fighter trudged up to the stairs with heavy footsteps, and a heavy soul.
She was currently curled up on her bed, staring into the wall blankly. The last parts of the fight just continued to play through her mind. Devil Jin was so ruthless, so cruel, so torturous… It was a far cry from the Jin she knew and loved from the bottom of her heart. She couldn't believe that there was such a beast inside of such a gentle person. She could believe what was in her, because she knew she could be a bitch and cruel… but Kazama…? Never.
Why do you worry about such a monster? He is able to take care of himself. He did before.
It's called caring, Athane replied.
Your so called 'caring' will be your ultimate downfall, in every miniscule aspect.
Is there ever a time of day where you shut your big fat mouth and leave me alone?
Do you ever recall such a time?
No, but it would be lovely if such a time began as of… now.
Sorry to disappoint. Try again, mortal.
They continued their bickering before there was a knock on the door. With a light sigh, she stood, one hand to her head, realising that she was still being taunted, and walked towards the source of the noise, knowing full well who it was. She opened the door, looking down at her feet, desperately trying to distract herself from the source of her inner torment.
Hwoarang picked up on this and stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and gently pushed her back to her bed. He didn't say anything, because actions always spoke louder than words… and right now, he just wanted to help her drown out the corrupt angel. He hoped that sleep would do the trick, like it normally did as far as he knew. Then again, what did he know about this really? Hardly anything.
So as usual, Athane lay down on her left side, facing the wall, curled up as she had been before the interruption. Behind her was her best friend, half curled up around her, one arm around her stomach, holding her against him, and the other sticking out from between her body and the mattress, currently without a use.
Within a few minutes of the eery silence, the 20-year-old's hand left her head and charged straight for her mouth, hoping to tear off a few nails in stress. The Blood Talon noticed this immediately, and with his free hand, began to tug the current index finger away from her mouth, "Hey, don't do that."
She ignored him with a shrug of her shoulders, trying again, but this time, his attempt to take her hand away was successful. However, the moment he let go created a rubber-band effect, and the victim finger charged straight back in. Agitated, Hwoarang removed it again, pinned her arm down with his elbow (as difficult as it was in this situation), and wiggled his own fingers before her face. Curious, the Greek looked up at him, seeing a cleanly shaven face and a mischievous smirk.
"If you gotta chew something, chew my nails instead of yours."
"That's disgusting."
The smirk only widened. His point proven, he spoke, hand down, "So, you've just been lying here all day?"
"Mhm."
"That's eight hours," He stated. 7am – 2pm, so far.
"She has been quite a hassle… and… I've been wondering about Jin all day."
Hwoarang tried hard not to insult the man at the moment, for her sake, "I'm sure he's fine."
Razer shrugged and looked back against the wall.
"Wow, Miharu was right, you're noticeably down. Well, I have just the cure for that."
"No tickling."
"I wasn't going to, but now that you mention it…"
"No," She repeated with an angry growl.
She was serious. The strength of her voice indicated that to him, and he was amazed and shocked all at the same time. After recovering from said shock, he narrowed his eyebrows and sat up, pulling her up with him quite easily, "Right. You're coming with me. Now."
He was too strong for her. No matter how hard she tried, the Korean was simply picking her up and pulling her out the door like a rag doll. Throughout the situation at hand, she whined like a little child, "I don't want tooooo… Hwoarang, put me back, I don't want to leave my room. Put me back? Please?"
"I'm not letting you mope in there. I'm taking you out."
"But –"
"No buts."
With that, they were out of the hotel and heading straight for the Plaza.
When they got there, Hwoarang stopped in the middle of the area, and put his hands on his hips, looking at his counterpart through wide and bright sienna eyes. He smiled and spoke firmly, "Right. So, what do you wanna do first?"
"I want to go back to my room."
"Aside from that."
"There is no 'aside from that', there is only 'I want to go back to my room'," She answered, using her fingers for quotation mark effects. Afterwards, the Greek put her hands behind her back and looked up at her best friend, hoping her point was proven.
Unfortunately it wasn't, "Look, you can go back and mope later. It's a nice day today. Let's use it before it rains."
She gave up and crossed her arms, "Fine, let's just wander around here first."
Shrugging, Hwoarang stuffed his hands in his pockets and followed her lead. She marched towards the left side of the Plaza, walking along the shops, occasionally taking glances in them from the corner of her eyes, hoping that he wouldn't notice. But oh, he did. And it made him grin widely and shamelessly. Inside, he was snickering, because she didn't want to come out of her room, but look at her now.
He too looked in sometimes, curious as to what she might be looking at. A few times, their gaze met in the glass, causing him to look away abruptly and clear his throat. After the fourth time this occurred, he started to speak, hoping to break up the bone-chilling silence between them, "So… uh… Anything you wanna talk about? Anything at all."
"When's your fight?"
"Um… in four days. On Saturday. At… 9 at night.'
"Where?"
"…I forgot."
Razer looked at him with an amused smirk and hurriedly slapped him up the back of the head, "Idiot. You should know! It's your fight!"
His hands flew up in defence after the blow. He whined, "Don't hit meeeeeee!"
She giggled and rolled her eyes, looking back into a nearby window. To her surprise, she found herself stopping, for something had caught her eye. She turned completely, eyes trailing the object from the top to the bottom, staring at it through wide green eyes.
Hwoarang too turned, standing beside her, and followed her line of sight. It landed on a white dress. It was without sleeves, came down to the mid-calf, and from the hip, blue streaks stemed. It looked nice, but he wondered why this item alone had caught his best friend's attention, when so many other countless, just-as-nice (and nicer) clothes over the years had been snubbed and ignored.
"I… had a dress similar to that… when I was little," Storm Wind remarked dejectedly, sensing his curiosity.
"Well, go try it on," He replied just as lowly.
She shook her head and turned away from the window, "It doesn't matter."
"Geez you're stubborn," Hwoarang growled, grabbing her hand, pulling her into the shop. Leading her through the maze of women, occasional men, and clothing racks, he located the exact dress that was seen in the display window, though in the inner area of the shop. Still holding her hand, he flipped through them until he found her size. With that said and done, he shoved it in her spare hand, and pushed her along to the change rooms, "Just try it on. It's not gonna kill you. Don't make me undress you and put it on."
As expected, a slap was delievered before she turned away and closed the curtain behind her. The Blood Talon rubbed his cheek with a smirk, turning away to look out into the hussle and bustle of the shop. He wondered how the masses found it so easy to navigate between the piles upon piles of clothes, shoes and accessories. It was difficult enough for him to find the dress section and then the change rooms.
Something light hit him over the top of the head. He turned to look, seeing Razer's jacket half hanging over the top railing. The sleeve had hit him. Rolling his eyes, he took it from there and held onto it, before refocussing his attention on the mindless ants herding together pointless items for their own personal reasons.
The curtain hooks scraped over the metal bar, catching his attention. He turned around and jumped, "Fuck."
"What?" Razer inquired, hands behind her back, uncomfortable.
It took him a moment to recover and start giggling, "Nothing."
"Hwoarang."
"You. In a dress. You."
"You made me try it on!"
"And I stand by my decision. Let's buy it!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
"No."
"Yes."
"You're poor Hwoarang. You can't keep flaunting money everywhere."
"Who says I'm paying for it?" He sneered, reaching around to his back pocket, withdrawing a card.
Razer studied it for a moment before looking back at him, "That is Baek's!"
The sneer was replaced by a cheesy grin.
It took a moment for everything to click, "Oh no."
"Oh yes," He growled, still grinning, taking a few steps back, about to run.
She reached out a hand to take it, however he was too fast, and skittered off to find a counter.
Cheeky little bastard, The corrupt angel within chuckled pleasantly.
You stay the hell out of this, Athane hissed, turning back into the stall, closing the curtain behind her. She jumped when her cellphone rang, buzzing harshly against the floor where it lay, within her jean pocket. She answered, "What?"
"Don't change into your normal clothes," Came the singsonging voice.
"Excuse me?" She inquired, bewildered.
She knew the Blood Talon was grinning, "All paid for, and because of my bad-ass charm on teenage girls, you can walk out of the store in the dress. Mwahaha. Now you need shoes."
"Hwoarang, no."
"Ooh, these look nice…"
"What the fuck is wrong with you today?!"
"Just trying to cheer you up…" He replied, a noticeable chunk of the hyper-ness gone from his voice.
With that, she was met with a dial tone.
There you are again. Being a selfish, introverted bitch.
She slipped her phone into her pocket and dazed out, listening to the corrupt angel talk.
He is just trying to make you forget about your troubles, if only for a day. Let the poor man do what he wants to do. You know he loves you, and you know that he won't stop trying to make you feel better about the events that have recently transpired until you do feel better about it. So stop pushing him away. You have done enough of that to him to last a lifetime. He is aware that you want to be alone, but he does not want you to slip back into that depressive, shitty state you have been accommodated with many times. Stop pushing him away, would you? Let him in.
Athane sighed, folding her clothes neatly on top of one another. She bit her lip for a moment, bending down to grab her boots, thereafter grabbing the rest of her items from the stall and leaving. She followed his scent, eventually being led to the back corner of the store, where the shoes had been neatly organised. Down one of the isles was her best friend, his face inspecting the objects, though still showing a hint of upset-ness. Both hands were behind his back, and in his left hand was a bag being loosely held by the straps.
She cleared her throat, and in an instant, his head snapped towards her. He stuck the bag hand out, letting go of one of the straps so the bag could open up more, and spoke noticeably calmly, all of the former hyperactivity long gone from his voice, "Put your stuff in here."
Storm Wind complied immediately, nodding lightly, placing her items in the bag, knowing the Korean was watching.
"You're walking around barefoot?"
Let. Him. In, The corrupt angel within repeated, noticing that her host was about to scowl and attack him.
The friendly counter came, "You said I needed shoes, didn't you?"
He said nothing, turning back to the endless shelves of shoes, and shrugged, lowering his arm, all the items now in the bag. He noticed when she moved to stand along side him, looking at the items before her as well, trying to feign some form of interest. He couldn't help but grin when he saw her stand on her tippy-toes and peer over the edge, from the corner of his vision.
He rolled his eyes and put the bag down, placing both hands on either side of her waist, "Ready?"
"Mhm."
With ease, he lifted her up and off the ground, seeing her curl her fingers curl over the edge so she could get a better look at the items above. He found it incredibly tempting to crack a joke, but refrained. She clearly wasn't in the mood and could blow up for no reason at any given moment. He felt her shuffle around a little more, hearing things be moved, "Got something you like?"
"Yeah, I've got a nice pair in my size. Put me down."
The Korean complied immediately before looking at the shoes for himself. Plain white sandals, "'Simplest stuff is always the best'. Right?"
"I cannot believe you still remember me saying that. I was fourteen dammit," She replied with a smirk, now sitting on the floor. Grabbing one of the shoes to try on to make sure it'd fit, she briefly looked up at him as he began to reply, his own smirk set deep on his face.
"You'd be surprised what I remember."
"Oh really, Red?" Razer drawled.
"Yes really."
"Fine. Name something you used to tease me about in the first three months of us knowing each other."
"Breast size. And I must say, the view from up here's awesome. They've flushed out quite nicely."
Instinct kicked in. Covering the previously mentioned area with her arms, she lashed her left foot out, kicking him in the shin, ignoring the laugh, eyebrows furrowed, glaring up at the perverted perpetrator. Yet once again, despite all attempts to keep the angry face set in, she could feel the corner of her lips curling up into a large, true, amused smile.
"There she is," He cooed, pulling at her cheek teasingly with his free hand, "There's my little Raze."
She rolled her eyes and took the shoe off, placing it back in the box. It fitted perfectly, "Fuck you."
"Okay, let me just go find us somewhere private."
To further illustrate his joke, he went to leave, but was stopped from moving any further when she grabbed the back of his jeans.
He didn't bother turning around. He could hear her giggling, "Any excuse to touch my ass, huh?"
The laughter soon became uncontrollable, though still at a quiet level. Once she let go, Hwoarang turned around, hands in his pockets, seeing her cover her mouth, trying hard to regain control her current chuckles. He smiled whole-heartedly. He knew that dragging her out of her room would do her some good, despite her protests.
"So!" The Blood Talon began once she had settled down, rocking back and forth on his feet, "Are we done in here?"
The 20-year-old nodded, still snickering, giving him the box with the shoes, "Get outta here."
He skittered off once again, locating the cash register much easier than the past attempt. Storm Wind stood, that cheek-aching smile still plastered on her face, her gaze pitched at the floor. What was it about this man that could bring her out of the darkest depths in a matter of moments? And not just now, in this instant and situation… always. Always always always. At any time, place or situation. Rain, hail or shine. At the dojang, on the streets, or at the tournament.
Recovering from her thoughts, she weaved her way out of the back corner, searching for red hair to follow. She eventually spotted it, and bounded over towards him, seeing him take Baek's card back from the young girl at the register and turning away. Calling out his name, thus causing him to stop, she walked over, still full of smiles.
"So, you are gonna walk around barefoot…"
"Give me those shoes," She deadpanned with narrowed eyes.
"Here," He stuck his hand out, watching them be snatched away.
A few moments later, the useless cardboard had been disposed of, and they left the area, pointlessly wandering once more without a place to go. The Greek looked to her counterpart, noticing he was still carrying her stuff. She stopped walking, and reached a hand across his body, trying to grab the bag, "I'll carry it."
"Jesus Raze, any lower and your hand'll be brushing against my –"
"Don't finish that sentence."
"Can I finish the thought?"
She rolled her eyes with an amused grin, "Can I please have my stuff?"
"I said I'd carry it," He replied, moving the bag way out of arm's reach, "So I'm gonna carry it."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Be that way."
"I will."
"Good."
"Glad you agree."
"I do."
"Lunch?"
"Okay. What food do you want?"
"Anything."
"Sure," Hwoarang nodded.
He stretched a little and began looking around, about to take off once more, but was stopped with a light clasp to his free hand. He looked to the woman next to him, who didn't have the heart to look at him in return, and was simply gazing at their shadows cast on the concrete beneath their feet, "Thank you."
He smiled and squeezed it in return, pulling her along for their search for food, not letting go, swinging their hands childishly. He knew it wasn't for taking her out, or for the items, or for the coming food, and so on. It was for trying to make her feel better, trying to make her smile – something he prided himself on. It was for that. Not for anything else.
The silent minutes slipped by, noticed by both Iron Fist Participants. Neither spoke – merely observed the area around them, the other beside them and the other, unimportant people. The area was calm and placid. The Korean was calm as well, though slightly edgy. His best friend was slightly relaxed and not as focused on her last fight as previous. The people around them simply went about their daily routine, fiddling with things, and tourists observed items in store windows. Sometimes they'd look their way and try and catch their attention. One person did, and it was Alyssa from the last tournament, once again with her Mother.
She didn't approach this time, for she was busy observing some toys in a small shop window. Her Mother had whispered something in her ear that caused her to look towards them. She had merely waved, her smile wide. Razer returned the wave with a similar smile, and Hwoarang nodded at her, grinning.
Soon enough, they were standing in the middle of the food court once more, looking around. Something seemed to catch the 21-year-old's attention, and it caused him to speak and stop swinging their hands. He looked to his left for a good moment, before turning to her, "You know something?"
"What?"
"We've been to Japan three times now, and haven't tried any of their food."
"And?"
"Let's go to a sushi bar!" the Blood Talon suggested.
"Do I have to use chopsticks?" Storm Wind inquired warily, recalling her past, embarrassing experiences with chopsticks.
"Probably."
"I'd prefer not to."
"Hey now, you said anything."
"Chopsticks dammit. Do you really want me to make an ass out of myself by trying to use them again?"
"Yes?"
"Are fingers an option?"
"Always."
"Fine."
With that settled, they moved away from the middle of the area, going towards the male's left, no longer looking lost and clueless. Time moved much faster than it had previously, and they were welcomed warmly by a waitress, who seemed to be an avid fan of the Korean (and was subsequently eyeing their joint hands darkly). He had noticed it very quickly as well, tightening his hold, pulling her body closer towards him as though to advertise to the girl that he wasn't interested in whatever she might be planning.
She gestured to a window both, overlooking the grassy fields behind the Plaza, and handed them both menus before leaving. Once the woman was out of earshot, Razer spoke with a snicker, sitting down, "She was checking you out."
"I know," He stated proudly, grinning, sitting on the opposite side, "And she was giving you death glares."
"Nan ara yo," She replied in the same manner as him and with the same words, only in his language.
"Ha!"
Sticking her tongue out at him, Athane looked at the menu blankly, crossing her right leg over the other. She skimmed over the foods on display in a bored manner, not quite sure what she wanted, nor caring about it either. She raised her left hand, brushing away a few strands of her hair from her shoulder, which was bothering her, before resting her cheek in the palm of the same hand. She chewed the inside of her mouth, eyes still scanning the food.
"I know that look."
The Greek youth looked up for a minute, "Hm?"
"I said, 'I know that look'," Hwoarang repeated, still observing his own menu, turning the page.
"How can you 'know that look' when you are not even looking?"
"Corner of my eyes."
"Sure."
"It's the 'oh fuck this, I don't care' look. Is it safe to assume that therefore you'll 'go with whatever' I end up having?"
"Naturally. You would know better than me after all."
"Sometimes I wonder what you'd do without me," He teased, looking up finally, leaning back, his meal decided.
"Run around naked screaming for joy," She joked, closing her own menu, looking at him.
Hwoarang blinked several times, ignoring the giggles coming from his friend after a lengthy pause, ignoring the 'your face… you need a mirror to see your face right this instant' that came through them; and countered, hands now behind his head, "Really now? Nice to know I'm so appreciated. Guess I'll have to go kill myself to see such a one-time-only sight, and so I can point and laugh at your failures."
The giggles didn't stop, but eventually slowed. Once breathing returned to normal, Razer placed both of her hands on the table beside one another, and looked at them, "Of course I appreciate you, idiot. I was merely joking around."
"I know."
"If you know, then was it absolutely necessary to retort?" She mumbled under her breath.
"Not this game again…"
"Oh no, not this game…"
"Refrigerator."
"…What?"
"There. Back in English."
The waitress returned, all smiles for Hwoarang, and all scowls for the 20-year-old. Razer wondered for a moment how he was going to recite their order, seeing as he didn't speak Japanese, but when he slipped into his native tongue, she understood. The woman was Korean, or at least knew Korean. He must've known this when he saw her. How, she didn't know. There are probably some physical differences between Koreans and Japanese people that are obvious to him, but not to her. She didn't know or care to take notice about them.
"Is that all?" She asked sweetly.
"Yeah, thanks."
"I will return with your dishes soon," With that, she left, tucking her pen behind her ear.
Her attention had turned elsewhere during the conversation. She was now gazing out the window, chin still resting in her hand, her right leg moving up and down for no particular reason… just something to do. Just like her eyes, her mind too wandered, returning to the Japanese man she had fought against a few days ago. The Blood Talon's efforts to keep her attention off of him were wasted.
Do you think… he knows I am okay? She asked the corrupt angel, seeing her face in the window.
How should I know? He's the one who knows about this whole 'mind speaking' stuff.
It was simply a question.
Well, I don't feel like talking. Go away.
She blinked, highly amused, I beg your pardon? You're in my mind. I can speak to you if I wish.
Raze… I'm tired. It took a lot of time and effort to get you back up to scratch. Please, don't disturb me. I need to rest too.
When I do not wish to be disturbed, you disturb me. However when you do not wish to be disturbed, I must follow your request? I think not! If I want to hassle you, then hassle you I shall. So… She began, internally prodding the other being within her, Do you think he knows that I'm alright?
I don't know dammit! Fuck off! I'm tired!
With a light smirk, she withdrew, leaving the corrupt angel alone. Surely he'd know. He'd 'feel' it, like he 'felt' all of the bad stuff going on between the 3rd and 4th Tournaments at the hideout. She was tempted to try and contact him, but opted against it, almost sure that their distance was too great even to get a simple 'hello' across. And either way he must've known. After all, he knew when she was upset when she discovered that Hwoarang had found out about them –
A light touch to her shin had her snap out of her thoughts and her gazing. The fighter looked under the table, seeing the tip of her best friend's shoe gently glide up and down the skin. She looked up to Hwoarang, seeing his face filled with worry, and felt his foot slide to the side of her leg, still continuing its affectionate actions. She smiled at him and shuffled about in her seat, "I'm fine."
"Good," He replied, not stopping what he was doing, turning head slightly to see the waitress return with food and drink.
The snitted remark came, followed by a stiff bow and fast exit, "Enjoy your meal."
Razer grinned to herself before turning to look at the food placed before her. With a pleased growl, she looked back up at the Blood Talon, the grin still on her face. He spoke, arms folded across his stomach, "Aren't I good to you? Finger food. No chopsticks required. …Speaking of remembering stuff, do you remember how to say 'chopsticks'?"
"Chot karak."
"'Spoon'?"
"Sut karak."
"Sweet! Seong-Hada now owes me five bucks. He didn't think you'd remember those."
"I see…"
Their late lunch (or early dinner) was far from silent. Jokes were cracked every few minutes, friendly banters were quick, and laughter filled out everything in between, especially when the 'skilled' chopstick wielder dropped some of his food. In reaction to being laughed at, he simply flicked some grains of rice at the woman sitting opposite him, only to have most of them go nowhere near their intended target. They much preferred the floor.
"You're retarded, Hwoarang," She remarked, still giggling.
More grains were flicked her way with a challenging sneer.
The rest of the day went about almost unnoticed. Hwoarang insisted on locating an arcade (which they did, and ran into Asuka there) and playing a few games. Razer insisted on walking around pointlessly at the beach (which they did, and it had resulted in two partially wet participants). It didn't necessarily help when the grey clouds overhead threatened to release rain.
It was this natural warning that caused the two to return to the hotel, still laughing at random things that had occurred during the day, still throwing random remarks or jests at each other in good fun. The walk to the double doors was slow, and they caught sight of a few other participants, namely a laughing Christie, and a confused Eddy, who had simply raised his eyebrow and questioned what had happened to the two of them.
"The usual," The Korean answered him, goggles around his neck, still trying to squeeze water from his hair.
Christie cleared her throat and spoke, eyeing the Greek's new attire with a surprised look, "Which would be…?"
"Mischief!"
That remark had the two Brazilians shaking their heads with glee, and turning back to their outdoor sparring. It seemed that their losses at the Tournament didn't affect them as much as the pair originally believed. After all, a man's life was at stake – Christie's Grandfather, who was Eddy's teacher, was ill. Yet still, to see them both here, still training, proved that perhaps they had something else up their sleeves.
Before the two best friends could get very far though, Monteiro stopped them again, tentatively grabbing Razer's forearm, looking at her smiling friend through worried brown eyes, "Um… Neither of you would happen to know where Steve is… would you…? I haven't seen him all day."
The 20-year-old frowned and shook her head, "Sorry."
She nodded, letting go of her friend, returning to her sparring.
Both Capoiera fighters went inside when it began to rain, though that did not deter Hwoarang from staying outside by himself, underneath the covers, watching the droplets fall from the sky through sienna eyes. Watching the rain alone was something he used to do often. It gave him time to think. That brief memory occured almost an hour and a half ago. Since then, they had gone inside, as well as most of the other participants that happened to be outside. He did not see Steve enter, and therefore couldn't report it to Christie, who was more than worried.
As for he and Razer, he decided that as punishment for pushing him into the freezing ocean, he would mercilessly tickle her until she could not breathe. It didn't take long in the privacy of her room, and it was with those breathy laughs did he deem his mission accomplished. Kazama had been banished from her mind, if only for those few hours. She was herself and happy, and that's what was important. That's what was important.
He withdrew a cigarette from his pocket, studying it with an uninterested face. There were so many thoughts going through his mind at the same time, clouding it. He couldn't pull them apart and choose one to focus on. They were all insistent, nudging one person, one thing, to the direct centre of his mind, thereafter dictating said thought to invade the whole of his mind.
Ah. Razer, Razer, Razer.
Such a sweetheart.
Stop it, He growled to himself, You've got a fucking girlfriend.
The end of the day had left him on a high. A very big high. He hadn't stopped smiling all day, and it had been a long while since he had such vast joy inside to do so. It felt as though they were together, even though they weren't. It felt as though nothing at all had changed between them, though in reality there were many things that had changed… many things that were in the way. Many things.
Then why did it feel like those things didn't matter at all?
He crunched up the cigarette in his hand, deciding against smoking it, and tossed it to his left, watching it slide across from dry to wet pavement. The water caught it and dragged it further away, to an unknown destination, like a drain that may or not have been around the corner. And like that unused, useless cigarette, his mind began to wonder once more to the woman that held his heart.
…That held his heart.
That's why it didn't matter. Of course. Stupid him.
Smiling to himself, he put his hands up behind his head, still leaning against the wall, and looked up to the see-through shelter above him. The moon shone through the cracks in the clouds, illuminating the darkness before him in an eerie glow, as assisted by the dim streetlights. He thought for a moment (when he looked back down) that he could see two people sitting on the green seats further down the main pathway, but shrugged it off. It was unimportant.
He could hear voices coming from inside. They must've been loud if he could hear them over the pitter-pattering of the rain.
"Nina? Do you know where Steve is?"
It was Christie. She was still checking around, obviously.
The assassin's answer was a firm 'no', though he had to strain to hear that.
There were a few more silent moments before Christie's voice perked up again, unperturbed by the lack of information provided by the missing man's Mother. Her voice was still happy and upbeat, as though she was trying to keep a positive attitude to the situation at hand, "Oh, heya! You lookin' for you-know-who?"
The conversation inside died out until all he could hear were a few, indistinguishable murmurs. With his hands now in his pockets, Hwoarang looked to where the cigarette had been, and still saw other bits and pieces below the tiny tide. He thought he could see some fur from King's mask down there, pinned against the wall. There were also a couple of stray pebbles anchored to the ground.
Creaking had his head snap up to the front door, where he saw the subject of his thoughts emerge from the room inside. So, Christie must have been speaking with her inside. Knowing Athane's tendency to talk quietly, this was rather likely, which would further add to why he had difficulty hearing what was being said in return to the Brazilian.
The 20-year-old looked to her right, now fully outside, before looking the other way, identifying her target. She was in her normal attire, only wearing that Unknown Soldier shirt that was a gift from that dickhead two years back, and without her jacket and gloves. She cautiously slunk towards him, head down slightly, and gave a light wave, which was returned in the same manner.
Razer leant against the wall on his right side, looking straight ahead of them into nothing. Her hands were behind her back and her posture was slouched, uninterested in using the wall wholly as support. He made no attempt to speak, knowing that whenever she was ready, she'd speak to him about whatever she needed to say. Judging by the look on her face, there were a lot of things going through her mind as well.
The Blood Talon looked away, his gaze now at the gentle rain once again. He began to chew the inside of his mouth in a bored fashion, waiting for her to say something, or for something to at least happen. He'd be quite happy with a simple bird flying through the night. At least that way he could strike up a conversation, however minimal the dialogue may be.
"I found him."
'Him', of course, was always, Kazama.
"Did you talk to him?" He asked, his voice a little louder than hers had been, his eyes no longer focusing on the droplets from the sky. Now, his focus was on keeping the conversation alive, and in trying to keep his emotions together. There was a lump forming in his throat, and he didn't like it. Resting his head against the wall didn't seem to help alleviate the pressure or strength of it either. He just wanted it to go away.
"I tried, but… he ran off."
"I'm sorry."
She shook her head and looked at him, seeing him turn his head a little to look back down on her from the corner of his sienna eyes. She tried to smile like she had been earlier, curtesy of him, but failed despite the attempt, "It is not your fault, so don't apologise."
"You do it all the time for no God damn reason."
A light giggle appeared as she turned away, looking back out before her, "True…"
Hwoarang smiled a little and continued to watch her from the corner of his eyes. His smile faded, turning into a frown when within a few moments, the Greek lowered her head, looking directly at her shoes. He couldn't see her face because her hair had fallen in the way of his view, but despite that, he knew that inside she was hurt by Kazama just… leaving, not even letting her talk to him. She just wanted to talk to him.
"I… Why does it feel like that I've done something wrong, when it was a situation out of our control?"
He shrugged lightly, flicking his head a little to have some of the stray red strands move away. He could offer her many reasons, though none of them would seem right. He could tell her many things, but none of them would make the situation any easier to deal with. He could offer her some smart-ass remark, but it wouldn't make the arriving smile any larger.
"I guess I shouldn't dwell on it, hm?" She inquired, the corners of her lips slightly upturned.
"Don't think about it."
"It is hard not to."
Silence.
The Korean bit the inside of his mouth anxiously, wanting for it to pass as quickly as possible. However, when five agonising minutes slid by, he realised that this wasn't going to get better any time soon. He turned his attention back out to the rain aimlessly pooling the area before them. He squinted to still see two people sitting at the seats. Curious.
His gaze drifted once more to Razer, who appeared to be contemplating something. She moved to lean her head on his shoulder, but stopped, having opted against it. She straightened herself up and looked to her right, sighing silently. He smiled a little, chuckling inwardly, and reached his left arm across him, going to grab her head. His fingers curled around her cheek, and gently, he pulled her head down onto his shoulder, letting the hand fall away thereafter. It was alright.
She comfortably stayed there for a lingering moment, before following the direction of his leaving hand, turning inwards towards his body. As she did this, she felt his arms come around her in a soothing embrace, holding her tightly as she sighed in frustration. She too loosely returned the hug, settling comfortably against his form. Her cheek was pressed firmly against his chest, and she couldn't help but smile when she felt his cheek rest at the top of her head, accompanied by one of the hands rubbing her back in slow, hard circles.
Time ticked by, and soon enough, Hwoarang spoke up softly, "You okay now?"
He didn't let go, even as she nodded. Such an act caused her smile to expand.
Something is wrong here.
What do you mean…? Athane inquired, not oblivious to the fingers starting to run through her hair.
I hate to spoil the moment, but something is wrong with him. He's… distracted. Distressed. Disturbed.
Conflicted…?
Indeed.
"He'll come around," Hwoarang said firmly, though it was hard to do so. He lifted his head, "You'll see."
She didn't say anything for a moment or two, but eventually chose to open her mouth, looking up at him, "Is something the matter?"
"No," He lied, looking down on her with a light smile, hoping to convince her otherwise.
With a small nod, Razer released him and pulled away from his hug. She leant her left side against the wall, and watched as he turned to face her wholly as well. She didn't look up at his face, and was rather staring into space, thinking. Her mind was still being an annoying chatterbox, without the corrupt angel within's influence. She bit her lip in frustration, trying to clear her thoughts as quickly as possible.
The Blood Talon sensed her irritation and propped himself up a little, resting his forearm against the cold wall. His fingers were loosely curled, and he intently stared at his best friend, mentally wishing away the frustration she was feeling. This was supposed to be a happy day. Damn Kazama. Way to fuck up his hard 'cheer up my best friend' work… again.
He lifted his head back a little when she managed to look up, her leaf green eyes piercing his sienna ones directly. He stared back silently, hoping to communicate his statement of 'say what's on your mind' to her. It sucked that he couldn't really tell her to. He just… wasn't in the right frame of mind himself to do so. But still, he waited patiently, obediently, anxiously.
"Right beyond the cigarette and the devilish smile… you're my crack of sunlight."
His heart heaved, and the thoughts that were running around in his mind were all dispelled to the one thought he wanted to keep away. He lifted his left hand, taking it away from his pocket, and gave it some use, having it gently grabbing her chin to hold it in place firmly. He just wouldn't, couldn't resist the urge to press his lips to hers in a firm and loving kiss after so, so long without such a level of affection with her.
His body was wracked with unshed tears, for many, many reasons. He stood there, drinking in all of her breath and taste as though he were starved of it; like a fire without oxygen. And like he, she too stood there, revelling the moment, closed eyes becoming irritatingly damp, her body shaking in the warmth. Her hands were limply poised between the two of them, unable to do anything. She longed to hold him, she longed to say so many unsaid things, but didn't trust herself. After all, their bond was unspoken, and it always had been. All she could do was stand there.
This was not a boy's kiss, but a man's.
It ended far too soon for both their liking, and it was only here did they realise how long they had been pushing such want down. Athane stared at him, his face still only inches from hers, and breathed in shakily, somewhat surprised that he was in the same shivering state that she was. She was sure that he was aware of what he had just done, and what he was going to risk before acting on his feelings, but the need and love in his eyes was indisputable and untameable.
"I love you," He murmured weakly, his voice cracking, "…more than ever."
And that is what the matter is.
She breathed in a sniffle and bit her lip restlessly, her eyes not following his form as he stood away and started to leave. She simply stared into space, hands still uselessly hovering near her stomach, fingers curled. Razer closed her eyes, shutting herself out of the world, and allowed the tears to come. Tears for her. Tears for him. Tears for them, and their dead end. Their torturous, torturous, dead end. It was all she could do anymore, and she hated it. What happened to the woman who could put such feelings down and look the other way…?
Hwoarang's thudding footsteps stopped immediately once he was behind her, standing near the door. He spoke to her firmly, looking over his shoulder sadly, his voice rising above the rain, though below its normal volume, "You didn't cause this."
It was the last she heard and saw of him for the day, her senses being drowned by the rain.