King of The Iron Fist Tournament 5
Rambling: Time for Chapter 1… hehehe… I'm really hoping I can finish this story… because I've never really finished a fic… well enjoy chapter 1
Chapter 1
Bloody Talon II
10 years later… the hero still bides his time in darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to lash out at the darkness…
Hwoarang's son, now 17, crept with stealth down the stairs. The discord between his parents becoming more disturbing, the youth's eyebrows furrowed in worry. They never argued this long before, and the silence of his mother troubled him even more.
"Julia, you know I have to go to this tournament! You know Jin Kazama will be there, and you know that I have to fight him!"
The irate and frustrated voice of his father demanded for an approval from his mother. Moving his lithe form closer to the room they were in, the youth pressed his ear against the wall. Why were they fighting? Why couldn't his mother just let his father go to this… tournament? His father would surely win…
"What about Hwoansang? What will he do if he finds out that his father just got up and left his family to settle some rivalry? What would he think of you? It's time to put it aside, Hwoarang… focus on what is important…"
Full of concern for her husband, Julia desperately tried to prevent her husband from entering the tournament. Fighting had always been a passion for him, a pretext for neglecting his family. At the mention of his son, the Bloody Talon fell silent. A sigh of relief from his mother let Hwoansang know that his father had decided to stay. Heading back up the stairs to his room, Hwoansang's eyes wandered to the frames that held pictures of his father in victorious fights.
'I want to be just like that…'
The deep brown eyes wandered over to a picture of a young man, his face hidden by the hood of his jacket. But his face wasn't the only thing that was hidden in this man; there was something else that was hidden. The picture, isolated in a corner, kept drawing him closer. It was the way the man held himself in the picture, powerful but humble. The taut structure of the man's body defined power, but the way he stayed hidden under the hood defined an aura of modesty. While all the other pictures had been adorned with special frames and hung in the light, this certain picture was hung in a dark corner in a cheap frame; it was as if his father despised the man in this picture, but respected him in some degrees as well.
"Hwoansang!"
The curt voice forced the boy to withdraw from the picture and face his father. Hwoansang's gaze caught a sheet of paper, clutched tightly within the hand of his father. Hwoarang stared ferociously at the boy, petrifying the boy under his gaze.
"Go to sleep, right now!"
Then he thrust the paper at his son, storming past him. Something grappled Hwoansang's mind, holding in his breath and erasing away all physical and mental ease. Turning around, he saw the beautiful eyes of his mother stare into his own. Her long and gentle fingers wrapped themselves around the boy's thin arm, leading him away from the stairs and into the living room.
"Sit down," commanded Julia, in a gentle and almost grave tone. Hwoansang did as he was told, sitting down on a couch. The anger of his father kept its tight hold on the boy's mind, making him stare blankly at the fireplace ahead. Julia sat down next to him, bringing her son's hand to her own.
"Are you all right?"
Snapping out of the trance, Hwoansang repeatedly apologized for eavesdropping on their conversation. Julia smiled faintly, her smile easing the nauseating contractions her son felt. Hwoansang's brown eyes stared longingly at his mother for answers.
"Why does he hate me so much? What am I supposed to do to earn his love? He's always so angry with me… no matter what I do to please him…"
Julia's free hand traced along the smooth jaw line of her son's face, she didn't know how to answer him. She knew Hwoarang loved his son with all his heart, but for her husband love was a hard thing to acknowledge and show.
"He does love you… don't worry…but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about… look at the paper you're holding…"
The nimble and long fingers opened up the crumpled flyer, eyes and mind absorbing every detail of the announcement… of The King of Iron Fist Tournament 5. King of Iron Fist Tournament? Wasn't his father in the tournament, once or twice? But why was his mother showing him this? It was obviously for his father. Julia's finger guided Hwoansang's eyes to the name at the top of the flyer: Hwoansang. Something struck him in his mind, leaving him to wonder whether he was reading the name right or not. No matter how many times he blinked and rubbed at his eyes, the letters of his name never shifted. If this tournament was for him, then why was his father so intent on entering it himself?
"Your father didn't want you to enter… he's been in it and he regrets it… he had seen way too much and his heart now yearns only to fight… he didn't want it happening to you…"
"But he met you during the tournament… didn't he? Why would he regret it then?"
"He resents the fact that we had meet in that condition… he had to learn to love through losses… loss of his mentor, loss of the lives of innocent people…"
Is that why love is so hard for him to understand? Was his father afraid that he would lose another important person in his life if he came to love that person? Was the whole tournament the cause of the cold, temperamental nature?
His mother's words advised him not to enter the tournament, but something in his mind kept screaming at him, to enter… and win. The tournament would help him understand what his father had gone through, and maybe it would help him alleviate the tension in their relationship. It would also help him sculpt his mind and body into those of a man. He would be able to prove himself to the world, as a worth son of the Bloody Talon.
"I want to enter…"
Julia sighed. The virile blood of a man is something that could not be restrained; it would boil until it came to a point where it had to be spilled. No matter how much she wanted to stop her son, it would be futile. He wanted to enter and he would do it even without her consent. The thoughts of possible loss of her son stung with a bitter taste, bringing crystalline tears to her eyes.
Hwoansang understood the concern his mother had for him, but his determination to find out exactly how the tournament affected his father and the stakes that were put on this tournament pushed him forward. He would have to leave tomorrow, early, if he didn't want his father stopping him. Pushing himself up, Hwoansang embraced his mother and whispered soothingly, "I'll be fine… I promise I'll come back… as the champion…"
Then he ran up the stairs and into his room, closing the door along with any thoughts of changing his mind. His mind was made up. He will enter and win. With such determination, he began to pack. He placed some clothes and his Tae Kwon Do gi into his backpack. After the quick preparation, he looked at himself in the mirror. The long years of training in the style of Tae Kwon Do and Chinese Martial Arts had sculpted his body marvelously. The remarkable feminine physique still remained along with his long, slender legs, but the toned muscles allowed him to appear a bit masculine. Brushing the strands of his red hair aside, he stared intensely at the smooth curve line of his face. Julia's beauty and grace, along with Hwoarang's good looks, had produced a child with an exquisite beauty. Lying down on his bed, he turned over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. Various thoughts crossed his mind. What could be waiting for him? What would happen? Who would he meet? Will he be able to make any friends? Allowing the torrent of thoughts to flood his mind for a while, Hwoansang slowly fell into a fitful sleep.
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*^^* well~ what do you think? I think it's bad… should I stop? Should I keep going? T-T Errrggghh… I don't know…