His nose still hurt, but it wasn't horribly bent. The fact that he wasn't
going to have to live the rest of his life with a crooked face was good
enough. Hwoarang leaned his arms on the tiled wall of the shower and
sighed. He still felt thoroughly sorry for himself, and had been in the
shower for hours and the water was starting to run cold. It trickled down
his back, making him shiver. He turned the water flow off and stepped out,
wrapping a towel around his slender waist. He had a few cuts and bruises,
his nose was a little swollen and his pride was shattered into a million
pieces, but that was it. He stomped out into the sitting room and turned
the CD player on, cranking the volume up loud enough to annoy his new
neighbour Mr Lee. He severely disliked the old man, mainly because Mr Lee
disliked him. Their first meeting last night when Hwoarang came in all
bloodied up after the fight with Jin, consisted of Mr Lee calling him a
'good for nothing scoundrel', and stating that he disapproved of his hair
and long hair belonged on women only. Hwoarang had of course retaliated,
but Mr Lee was the kind of guy who lived up to the saying 'My Way or the
Highway'. Hwoarang would have gladly taken the highway, given the chance.
He went to the kitchen and took two beers out of the fridge and drank them both straight away. He stormed back into the living room miserably and collapsed on the couch. Mr Lee was apparently not at home, since there was no banging on the walls and hoarse screams of "TURN IT DOWN OR I'LL HAVE YOU EVICTED!!!" That would never happen though; Hwoarang knew Bernie wouldn't evict him, even if he burned the kitchen out. He just didn't give a crap like that. He did think he was imagining things when there was a knock at the door instead, and he stood up stiffly and stalked down the short hall, wrenching the door open.
"Look Mr Lee, I'm having a shit day, hell I've had a shit week and I don't need you making it any worse so just piss off and..."
"Hwoarang?"
He looked up and didn't see a seventy-year-old man with grey hair and a stony expression at the door. Rather, he saw Baek.
"Oh shit, sorry" he apologised "what's up?"
"Why didn't you come to training this morning?"
Hwoarang sighed heavily.
"I didn't feel like it. I had a bad night."
"What happened?" Baek asked, frowning at him.
"I was in a fight with some guy and...well..."
"You lost?"
"We drew actually, but the point is I didn't win, I've never lost a fight like that! I feel so fucking shit, like I've let everyone down..."
Baek looked at him and grinned.
"You didn't loose though. You just expect too much of yourself, your too cocky and that's why you can't admit defeat, even if it wasn't really defeat. The point is you gave it your best and...what the fuck are you listening too?"
Hwoarang grinned and turned the music down.
"Rammstein" he said "don't you like them?"
"I can't understand a word he's saying."
"That's because he singing in German. Anyway, do you want a beer?"
Baek accepted, and Hwoarang went to get two cans from the fridge. He cracked his open and drank it in one go, crushing the can and tossing it into the bin. Baek looked up at him, then looked him up and down.
"So, are you going to get dressed Hwoa? Or are you going to wear that towel all day?"
Hwoarang looked down at his waist and agreed that it was probably a good idea to put some clothes on. He changed quickly and went back to the sitting room, turning the new TV on. Some chat show was on, a woman was complaining about her husband being a lazy pig, and he was protesting that she nagged him all the time. Hwoarang flicked the channel over; grateful he didn't live in America. Or Japan for that matter. If he never saw Kazama again, it would be too soon.
"So, who was the fight with?" Baek enquired.
"Some random guy called Jin Kazama." Hwoarang told him "I've never seen him before and I never want to again."
"Kazama? Sounds foreign."
"No shit, he's Japanese and he knows his stuff as far as fighting goes."
Baek nodded and sat back into the couch. He drank some more of the beer and watched the pathetic lives of the soap people on the TV. He didn't understand how this could be considered entertainment, and took the remote, flicking through the channels to some cookery show.
He spent the duration of it yelling at the chef for putting the wrong things in the wrong recipes, and how he could show him how to make a better stir-fry than that. It made Hwoarang laugh to see Baek so wound up about something that trivial. A knock at the door disturbed them, and Hwoarang got up to answer it. His heart sank when he opened it and was greeted by Bernie's bean-sauce-splattered vest.
"Can I help you, Oh God of Tenancy?" Hwoarang mocked.
"Save it Hwoarang" Bernie scolded, "I'm here for the rent?"
"Wow, you mean you actually got up off your arse to do something for yourself? Give the guy a medal!" Hwoarang said, obviously not in the mood to be dishing out money.
"You owe me three months rent, I've given in on waiting for you Hwoarang, so I came to get it myself."
Hwoarang sighed. He retrieved his wallet from the pocket of his leather bike jacket on the back of his bedroom door and handed the money over. Bernie counted it carefully, and satisfied, waddled back down the hall. Hwoarang gave him the finger as he walked away, and closed the door. He growled to himself and went back to the sitting room. Baek was pulling his coat on, ready to leave.
"I have to get going" he said "See you tomorrow?"
"Sure" Hwoarang said "See you later."
Baek left and Hwoarang flopped down onto the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. He looked at the clock and decided to give in. His bedroom called.
***
~Fast-forward a few months, Hwoarang in nineteen now and thoroughly enjoying the winter.... ~
"I hate Christmas..." he groaned, rising up on his tiptoes to try and see the end of the queue. The cashier was apparently having a little trouble with a rogue till, and the queue of twenty-plus people had come to a complete standstill. He gave in waiting, put the few presents he had managed to get onto a random shelf and walked out of the store. He could get something smaller and less expensive for everyone, after all it's the thought that counts. He made his way steadily up the street, carefully avoiding the various ice patches and reached his bike. He mounted it and started it up, letting it warm up a bit before taking off along the gritted roads. He stopped at Tony's and went in, sitting at his usual table by the window so he could keep an eye on the bike. He still didn't trust anyone in this town as far as he could throw them, which was actually quite far.
A waitress tottered over, the same one it always was and the one who had served him on his first time in Tony's. He greeted him with a huge, toothy grin.
"Hwoarang honey! How are you?"
"Cold and miserable" he answered bluntly.
"Aww, well let's get you something to warm you up. Chilli special?"
"Sure. Thanks Mel."
"No problem" she said with a smile and went to the kitchen to place the order. Hwoarang gazed out of the window upon all the happy kids, flustered housewives and the guy who dressed as Santa and stood on the street corner ringing a bell, trying to get people to cough up money for some form of charity they had never heard of. The door chimed as it opened, and he looked over absentmindedly, not because he was curious as to the arrival of the newcomer, but because it was a reaction he couldn't help. The boy who stepped through was his age, skinny and had blonde hair with bright red streaks. Hwoarang recognised him immediately.
"Kei!!!" he called, waving him over. Kei smiled brightly and came over to the table.
"Long time no see Hwoa!" he chirped "how're you doing?"
"I'm fine. Freezing my balls off and in debt to my landlord, but fine. You?"
"I'm peachy. I came to town with Kim but she's gone off shopping somewhere..."
"Kim?" Hwoarang interrupted.
"My fiancé, we're getting married in March." Kei explained "She's great, I love her to bits. Have you got a girl?"
"No, I tend to scare them away really. Not everyone likes street gang leaders."
Kei laughed and tousled Hwoarang's hair playfully.
"Maybe it's got something to do with that?" he suggested "it's so long now you're starting to look a little effeminate!"
"Oh sod off" Hwoarang said "I get told that everyday by someone or another, usually someone from the gang. I like it long anyway."
"I'm sure you do, it suits you." Kei commented, "So you really lead a gang?"
"Sure do."
"That's pretty cool. Sister Rose would turn in her grave if she knew though!"
"Grave?"
Kei looked up from the tabletop, his eyes sad.
"Yeah, she died in September. Some kind of virus or something. She was asking for you, but we couldn't get in touch with you to let you know."
Hwoarang's face fell. He couldn't believe Sister Rose had died. She had always seemed like one of those indestructible women, the kind that never get sick and never let anything stop them. He looked out of the window again, and saw a young woman with long, brown hair tapping her foot impatiently and looking pointedly at Kei. Hwoarang nudged him.
"Is that Kim?"
Kei looked and nodded.
"Looks like I've got to go, catch ya later Hwoa."
He left with Kim and disappeared down the street. Hwoarang watched them go, until another person caught his eye. They were heading for Tony's and, although Hwoarang couldn't see their face under their jacket hood, he knew that they meant business. Mel brought his pizza over, but he paid it no attention, too intent on watching the approaching figure. They turned, and Hwoarang got a glimpse of raven-black hair and deep brown eyes, turned down in a scowl.
'Kazama?!' Hwoarang mentally cried. He watched as Jin crossed the street and looked into the window of Tony's. Hwoarang quickly got up and made for the bathroom, not wanting an encounter with Jin in a crowded public place. He waited in the bathroom, standing in front of a cracked mirror and looking at himself. He saw the reflection of the door opening behind him. Hooded figure entered.
'I hate life'
"What do you want, Kazama?" he quizzed without turning around.
"Ahh, hello Hwoarang. Fancy seeing you here?" Jin said, sounding less than pleased.
"What the fuck are you still doing here? Why haven't you fucked off back to Japan yet?"
Jin smiled to himself.
"Well, in actual fact, I can't. I'm number one on my Grandfather's 'To Kill' list, and as long as I'm here he can't find me."
"Your Grandfather?" Hwoarang repeated, turning around to face Jin "Why the hell does he want you dead?"
"Long story" Jin replied.
"I see." Hwoarang said, "I hate long stories, so don't bother. Anyway, I want a rematch with you."
Jin looked surprised.
"A rematch? Why do you want a rematch now?"
"To prove I'm better than you, dickhead" Hwoarang spat. Jin smiled again, his eyes glinting in that eerie way. He stepped around Hwoarang to lean on the wall.
"Better than me? You wish..." he taunted. Hwoarang gave him a cocky grin.
"I never loose Kazama. That draw was just bad luck, plus I'd had a bit to drink. Technically, it was unfair and I want a rematch!"
"There's no reason for one." Jin retaliated "We drew, end of discussion."
Hwoarang snarled slightly and leaned against the sinks. Jin stepped closer and leaned over him. Hwoarang felt a serious case of the butterflies swarm up in his stomach, then immediately dismissed it as nothing. He looked up into Jin's eyes.
"What?" he asked. Jin shrugged. He stepped back, and Hwoarang stood by the sinks staring at him. Hwoarang straightened up and made for the door.
"Later, Kazama" he said. He pulled the door open a little, then let it go as he was pulled back, spun around and pushed up against the wall. Jin leaned quickly in and kissed Hwoarang fiercely. He pulled away, his face confused. Hwoarang put a hand to his mouth in shock. They stood, staring at each other for what seemed like hours, before Jin opened the door and left quickly. Hwoarang stood there dazed.
'Come on Hwoarang, get a grip' he told himself. He left the bathroom, paid his bill at the counter and made his way home.
He went to the kitchen and took two beers out of the fridge and drank them both straight away. He stormed back into the living room miserably and collapsed on the couch. Mr Lee was apparently not at home, since there was no banging on the walls and hoarse screams of "TURN IT DOWN OR I'LL HAVE YOU EVICTED!!!" That would never happen though; Hwoarang knew Bernie wouldn't evict him, even if he burned the kitchen out. He just didn't give a crap like that. He did think he was imagining things when there was a knock at the door instead, and he stood up stiffly and stalked down the short hall, wrenching the door open.
"Look Mr Lee, I'm having a shit day, hell I've had a shit week and I don't need you making it any worse so just piss off and..."
"Hwoarang?"
He looked up and didn't see a seventy-year-old man with grey hair and a stony expression at the door. Rather, he saw Baek.
"Oh shit, sorry" he apologised "what's up?"
"Why didn't you come to training this morning?"
Hwoarang sighed heavily.
"I didn't feel like it. I had a bad night."
"What happened?" Baek asked, frowning at him.
"I was in a fight with some guy and...well..."
"You lost?"
"We drew actually, but the point is I didn't win, I've never lost a fight like that! I feel so fucking shit, like I've let everyone down..."
Baek looked at him and grinned.
"You didn't loose though. You just expect too much of yourself, your too cocky and that's why you can't admit defeat, even if it wasn't really defeat. The point is you gave it your best and...what the fuck are you listening too?"
Hwoarang grinned and turned the music down.
"Rammstein" he said "don't you like them?"
"I can't understand a word he's saying."
"That's because he singing in German. Anyway, do you want a beer?"
Baek accepted, and Hwoarang went to get two cans from the fridge. He cracked his open and drank it in one go, crushing the can and tossing it into the bin. Baek looked up at him, then looked him up and down.
"So, are you going to get dressed Hwoa? Or are you going to wear that towel all day?"
Hwoarang looked down at his waist and agreed that it was probably a good idea to put some clothes on. He changed quickly and went back to the sitting room, turning the new TV on. Some chat show was on, a woman was complaining about her husband being a lazy pig, and he was protesting that she nagged him all the time. Hwoarang flicked the channel over; grateful he didn't live in America. Or Japan for that matter. If he never saw Kazama again, it would be too soon.
"So, who was the fight with?" Baek enquired.
"Some random guy called Jin Kazama." Hwoarang told him "I've never seen him before and I never want to again."
"Kazama? Sounds foreign."
"No shit, he's Japanese and he knows his stuff as far as fighting goes."
Baek nodded and sat back into the couch. He drank some more of the beer and watched the pathetic lives of the soap people on the TV. He didn't understand how this could be considered entertainment, and took the remote, flicking through the channels to some cookery show.
He spent the duration of it yelling at the chef for putting the wrong things in the wrong recipes, and how he could show him how to make a better stir-fry than that. It made Hwoarang laugh to see Baek so wound up about something that trivial. A knock at the door disturbed them, and Hwoarang got up to answer it. His heart sank when he opened it and was greeted by Bernie's bean-sauce-splattered vest.
"Can I help you, Oh God of Tenancy?" Hwoarang mocked.
"Save it Hwoarang" Bernie scolded, "I'm here for the rent?"
"Wow, you mean you actually got up off your arse to do something for yourself? Give the guy a medal!" Hwoarang said, obviously not in the mood to be dishing out money.
"You owe me three months rent, I've given in on waiting for you Hwoarang, so I came to get it myself."
Hwoarang sighed. He retrieved his wallet from the pocket of his leather bike jacket on the back of his bedroom door and handed the money over. Bernie counted it carefully, and satisfied, waddled back down the hall. Hwoarang gave him the finger as he walked away, and closed the door. He growled to himself and went back to the sitting room. Baek was pulling his coat on, ready to leave.
"I have to get going" he said "See you tomorrow?"
"Sure" Hwoarang said "See you later."
Baek left and Hwoarang flopped down onto the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. He looked at the clock and decided to give in. His bedroom called.
***
~Fast-forward a few months, Hwoarang in nineteen now and thoroughly enjoying the winter.... ~
"I hate Christmas..." he groaned, rising up on his tiptoes to try and see the end of the queue. The cashier was apparently having a little trouble with a rogue till, and the queue of twenty-plus people had come to a complete standstill. He gave in waiting, put the few presents he had managed to get onto a random shelf and walked out of the store. He could get something smaller and less expensive for everyone, after all it's the thought that counts. He made his way steadily up the street, carefully avoiding the various ice patches and reached his bike. He mounted it and started it up, letting it warm up a bit before taking off along the gritted roads. He stopped at Tony's and went in, sitting at his usual table by the window so he could keep an eye on the bike. He still didn't trust anyone in this town as far as he could throw them, which was actually quite far.
A waitress tottered over, the same one it always was and the one who had served him on his first time in Tony's. He greeted him with a huge, toothy grin.
"Hwoarang honey! How are you?"
"Cold and miserable" he answered bluntly.
"Aww, well let's get you something to warm you up. Chilli special?"
"Sure. Thanks Mel."
"No problem" she said with a smile and went to the kitchen to place the order. Hwoarang gazed out of the window upon all the happy kids, flustered housewives and the guy who dressed as Santa and stood on the street corner ringing a bell, trying to get people to cough up money for some form of charity they had never heard of. The door chimed as it opened, and he looked over absentmindedly, not because he was curious as to the arrival of the newcomer, but because it was a reaction he couldn't help. The boy who stepped through was his age, skinny and had blonde hair with bright red streaks. Hwoarang recognised him immediately.
"Kei!!!" he called, waving him over. Kei smiled brightly and came over to the table.
"Long time no see Hwoa!" he chirped "how're you doing?"
"I'm fine. Freezing my balls off and in debt to my landlord, but fine. You?"
"I'm peachy. I came to town with Kim but she's gone off shopping somewhere..."
"Kim?" Hwoarang interrupted.
"My fiancé, we're getting married in March." Kei explained "She's great, I love her to bits. Have you got a girl?"
"No, I tend to scare them away really. Not everyone likes street gang leaders."
Kei laughed and tousled Hwoarang's hair playfully.
"Maybe it's got something to do with that?" he suggested "it's so long now you're starting to look a little effeminate!"
"Oh sod off" Hwoarang said "I get told that everyday by someone or another, usually someone from the gang. I like it long anyway."
"I'm sure you do, it suits you." Kei commented, "So you really lead a gang?"
"Sure do."
"That's pretty cool. Sister Rose would turn in her grave if she knew though!"
"Grave?"
Kei looked up from the tabletop, his eyes sad.
"Yeah, she died in September. Some kind of virus or something. She was asking for you, but we couldn't get in touch with you to let you know."
Hwoarang's face fell. He couldn't believe Sister Rose had died. She had always seemed like one of those indestructible women, the kind that never get sick and never let anything stop them. He looked out of the window again, and saw a young woman with long, brown hair tapping her foot impatiently and looking pointedly at Kei. Hwoarang nudged him.
"Is that Kim?"
Kei looked and nodded.
"Looks like I've got to go, catch ya later Hwoa."
He left with Kim and disappeared down the street. Hwoarang watched them go, until another person caught his eye. They were heading for Tony's and, although Hwoarang couldn't see their face under their jacket hood, he knew that they meant business. Mel brought his pizza over, but he paid it no attention, too intent on watching the approaching figure. They turned, and Hwoarang got a glimpse of raven-black hair and deep brown eyes, turned down in a scowl.
'Kazama?!' Hwoarang mentally cried. He watched as Jin crossed the street and looked into the window of Tony's. Hwoarang quickly got up and made for the bathroom, not wanting an encounter with Jin in a crowded public place. He waited in the bathroom, standing in front of a cracked mirror and looking at himself. He saw the reflection of the door opening behind him. Hooded figure entered.
'I hate life'
"What do you want, Kazama?" he quizzed without turning around.
"Ahh, hello Hwoarang. Fancy seeing you here?" Jin said, sounding less than pleased.
"What the fuck are you still doing here? Why haven't you fucked off back to Japan yet?"
Jin smiled to himself.
"Well, in actual fact, I can't. I'm number one on my Grandfather's 'To Kill' list, and as long as I'm here he can't find me."
"Your Grandfather?" Hwoarang repeated, turning around to face Jin "Why the hell does he want you dead?"
"Long story" Jin replied.
"I see." Hwoarang said, "I hate long stories, so don't bother. Anyway, I want a rematch with you."
Jin looked surprised.
"A rematch? Why do you want a rematch now?"
"To prove I'm better than you, dickhead" Hwoarang spat. Jin smiled again, his eyes glinting in that eerie way. He stepped around Hwoarang to lean on the wall.
"Better than me? You wish..." he taunted. Hwoarang gave him a cocky grin.
"I never loose Kazama. That draw was just bad luck, plus I'd had a bit to drink. Technically, it was unfair and I want a rematch!"
"There's no reason for one." Jin retaliated "We drew, end of discussion."
Hwoarang snarled slightly and leaned against the sinks. Jin stepped closer and leaned over him. Hwoarang felt a serious case of the butterflies swarm up in his stomach, then immediately dismissed it as nothing. He looked up into Jin's eyes.
"What?" he asked. Jin shrugged. He stepped back, and Hwoarang stood by the sinks staring at him. Hwoarang straightened up and made for the door.
"Later, Kazama" he said. He pulled the door open a little, then let it go as he was pulled back, spun around and pushed up against the wall. Jin leaned quickly in and kissed Hwoarang fiercely. He pulled away, his face confused. Hwoarang put a hand to his mouth in shock. They stood, staring at each other for what seemed like hours, before Jin opened the door and left quickly. Hwoarang stood there dazed.
'Come on Hwoarang, get a grip' he told himself. He left the bathroom, paid his bill at the counter and made his way home.