A/N: Hello again, peoples! This is Sockey, and I just want to apologize for not posting in a while. Between a spur-of-the-moment road trip to Spokane (five hours locked in a car with my brother . . . death . . .), finishing up finals at school, and cleaning my room (and sleep, can't forget about sleep . . .), I really haven't had all that much time to be writing (but I've thinking about it, I swear I have!). I would just like to take time out to thank x1nfernal for faithfully reading and reviewing my story. It really encourages me to get on it and keep posting. As long as I'm making one person happy, I'll keep posting.
Back to the story . . .
It had been a couple of weeks since Julia's arrival, and she had effectively become a part of their lives. Hwoarang had allowed her to continue tagging along with him on expeditions, adventures, and escapades with his friends, who had grew to be her friends as well. He had noticed, though, that she still managed to isolate herself somewhat, not clinging to any particular one of them and not being especially participatory beyond idle conversation. He supposed that she was like him in that respect. He enjoyed watching from above. Hwoarang knew that Julia was still wary of him, of all of them. She still didn't feel like she belonged.
On that day, they had had another excursion at the beach . . .
"Hwoarang, come join me!" called Byong, who was floating on a large, keg- sized, plastic jug they had found on the beach and paddling with a very big stick.
"That'll be the day," muttered Hwoarang, who was standing on the shore, watching Byong with mild amusement.
"Hey, guys! I found another one!" shouted Tetsuya, carrying a second jug he found further down on the beach. Just then, Jie Wen came down the beach.
"Look what I found." It appeared to be old, ripped-up pieces of black tarp. Already, the wheels in Hwoarang's head had been turning.
"Guys, I think we can build a raft."
"A raft???"
"Yeah, a raft! Let's do it!" So the big, strong men set out to build a raft. In the meantime, they were calling quite a crowd. Julia watched them, enjoying the brave, industrious, possibly very foolish endeavors that men always seemed to set their sights on accomplishing.
"You know, this is what makes men great," she commented to no one in particular. Mok, who was near enough to hear her, gave her an odd little smile.
"Hmmm . . . maybe."
"It's what makes them idiots," asserted Satsumi, joining their conversation.
"Well, it makes them interesting," amended Julia, still believing that it made them great, even if they were idiots . . .
It had ended up with Byong falling into the water, soaking him to the bone, and Hwoarang almost suffering the same fate. He had fallen part of the way into the water, completely drenching his board shorts. The remaining crewmen had quickly paddled the raft back to shore, abandoning their fallen comrades. Hwoarang seeked sanctuary, climbing on top of a giant tire that was embedded in the sand and water somewhere close to shore. Hwoarang stood on top of it triumphantly, managing to keep his balance. Everyone on shore was calling for Byong to: "Push him off! Push him off!" Luckily, though, Byong was too prudent to risk incurring Hwoarang's wrath. The two ship- wrecked sailors finally did make it back to shore. Neither ventured out to the water after that.
It was now around ten at night. Julia had been locked in her room for about three hours. Hwoarang knew this because the only thing that separated him bedroom from Julia's was a curtain. He assumed that she was asleep. It had been a rather tiring day. Hwoarang was lying on his bed, but he was restless.
Making up his mind, Hwoarang grabbed his phone from out of his pocket and dialed a number that was very familiar to him by now. It was picked up on the second ring. "Yeah?"
"Hey, Joey. How many of you guys are around?"
"Enough."
"So you guys up to a sucker match tonight?" It was a term that either he or Joey had coined a few years back. Nobody could remember who came up with it originally, and they had spent many a drunken stupor arguing over who had first said "sucker match".
"Always." The succinct answer was given with a hint of relish.
"Excellent. See you in a few."
"Later." Hwoarang hung up. After a few moments of searching around under his bed, Hwoarang found the already made chain of clothing items and the like he used on a regular basis to climb in and out of his window undetected. He quickly stuck the loop part around one of his bedposts, then quietly opened his bedroom window and threw the other end outside. Then, he climbed into the window frame and began to scale down the side of the building.
------
Yes, there it was. Julia could definitely hear the sound of Hwoarang's feet thumping on the grass outside of his window. She hastily pulled on her leather jacket, pushed back the curtain, and ran to his window. He was already halfway down the street so she swiftly and silently made good use of his chain and chased after him. She knew that following him unnoticed would be a piece of cake for her.
This was around the third time that Hwoarang had snuck out of his window to meet up with some guy named "Joey", and Julia was just curious enough to find out what that was all about.
About three-quarters of the way there, Hwoarang ran into a small alleyway and came roaring out riding a shiny red motorcycle. Even then, it was still relatively easy for Julia to track him.
She was that good.
------
By the time that Hwoarang arrived at the bar, Joey had already scouted out their next "customers" (basically, suckers). It was one of the local biker gangs. Those idiots, they never learned. Like usual, Hwoarang had Jessica, the most sweet and innocent-looking of them all, go up and taunt the other gang until they were really pissed off. Since all of the other gang leaders had bricks for brains, they immediately wanted to challenge Hwoarang's gang to a fight. Coolly, Hwoarang sauntered over to the rival gang leader and dared him to place some good money on the fight. The idiots agreed without much persuasion. He flashed them a cocky grin and shook their clammy, dirty paws. "Things I do," he murmured under his breath.
The fight was held on the street in front of the bar. Not the best neighborhood, surrounding residents were used to these kinds of things happening in the middle of the night while they were trying to sleep.
They agreed to hold the fight in duel-style, one-on-one matches. It was always four of Hwoarang's weakest fighters versus four of the other gangs strongest. Hwoarang's team members lost, he made sure of that. Even the weakest members of Hwoarang's team were more than a match for their rivals so it was easy for them to lose convincingly without getting severely injured. Besides, the entire rival gang was stinking drunk anyway.
When the matches were over, Hwoarang pretended to be intimidated by the rival gang leader and begged him to have a final match, using the line: "Double or nothing?" in a believably nervous tone of voice. The suckers swallowed the act whole. Their mistake.
For the final match, their strongest (but certainly not smartest) stepped out. Good, good. Hwoarang liked that. The bigger they were, the harder they fell. When questioned as to which person would fight in the final round, Hwoarang jabbed his chest with his thumb and smiled crookedly. The other gang laughed their heads off. "A skinny twerp like you??? He's f---ing twice your size!"
"You wanna quadruple the bet?" challenged Hwoarang, defiant now. Of course, the foolish b------s agreed. Using the most rudimentary of his skills, Hwoarang pummeled the foolish dunderbrick with almost bore-inducing ease. Enraged, other members of the rival gang ran out to fight him. Hwoarang trashed every last one of them without raising a sweat. Inwardly, Hwoarang smiled every time he heard a nose cracking or a worn out body hitting something hard. He always did like a workout.
------
When Hwoarang returned to the alley where he had stashed his bike, he was more than a little shocked to find Julia waiting for him there. "Hey. Can I catch a ride home?" she requested nonchalantly. Angry welled up inside oh him, but he squashed it. As much as he felt that his privacy had been invaded, almost unforgivably so, he knew that being angry with her would not make his life any easier. Therefore, all he said was a hollow: "Yeah . . . okay."
------
Hwoarang was awoken by a hard punch to his arm. "Scoot." He did. In the darkness, Hwoarang could see Julia hop onto his bed wearing a simple sleepshirt and her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. She lie down on her stomach, folding her arms under her face. "Couldn't sleep," she explained after a minute. "Now I know what you do when you're restless, but, sadly, I have no such outlets." Her tone was conversational yet cautious. Hwoarang hadn't been outwardly mad at her on the whole way back, but she had gotten the distinct impression that he was absolutely furious. Warily, she ventured: "Hwoarang . . . how mad are you at me?"
Hwoarang didn't answer her for a long time. She was beginning to think he wasn't going to say anything when he finally gave her a slow reply. "When I was kid, I found out that I had some very interesting skills, skills that wouldn't be very applicable to a normal occupation."
"Such as?" Julia was expecting him to say something like beating people up, but his answer was much more complex.
"Such as the ability to reinvent myself whenever I had to." He paused a moment before continuing. "So I would go to school and be popular, then I'd come home and play with the trailer trash from down the street. Seriously . . . I think Jessica was the first girl I ever kissed." Julia smiled.
"That's sweet."
"Yeah, anyway, all of these things, like trips to the beach and s--- like that . . . that's my way of connecting with my friends like Tetsuya and Byong . . . But all of those people in my little fraud team . . . they're all like me. Rebels. Orphans. People without a home. Tough cookies. People who enjoy the thrills of fighting. These fixed matches are my way of connecting with them." Hwoarang blew out his breath. He hadn't meant to tell all of this to Julia, of all people, but somehow he knew, he knew that he could trust her. The words seemed to come on their own anyway, and nevermind what the Hell he thought. "For . . . all of my life, I've always been able to keep those two . . . compartments . . . of my life completely separate. I figured that it would be the same with you. I tried to fit you into one place, but when you spied on me tonight . . . you escaped the box, Julia." He sighed. "I know I sound crazy."
"Not really," she mumbled, beginning to fall asleep. Neither of them spoke again.
Something strange happened that night. Julia was no longer an outsider warily accepting courtesies nor was Hwoarang simply offering obligatory kindnesses. They were friends.
Okay, you know the drill. Please read and review! :-D
Back to the story . . .
It had been a couple of weeks since Julia's arrival, and she had effectively become a part of their lives. Hwoarang had allowed her to continue tagging along with him on expeditions, adventures, and escapades with his friends, who had grew to be her friends as well. He had noticed, though, that she still managed to isolate herself somewhat, not clinging to any particular one of them and not being especially participatory beyond idle conversation. He supposed that she was like him in that respect. He enjoyed watching from above. Hwoarang knew that Julia was still wary of him, of all of them. She still didn't feel like she belonged.
On that day, they had had another excursion at the beach . . .
"Hwoarang, come join me!" called Byong, who was floating on a large, keg- sized, plastic jug they had found on the beach and paddling with a very big stick.
"That'll be the day," muttered Hwoarang, who was standing on the shore, watching Byong with mild amusement.
"Hey, guys! I found another one!" shouted Tetsuya, carrying a second jug he found further down on the beach. Just then, Jie Wen came down the beach.
"Look what I found." It appeared to be old, ripped-up pieces of black tarp. Already, the wheels in Hwoarang's head had been turning.
"Guys, I think we can build a raft."
"A raft???"
"Yeah, a raft! Let's do it!" So the big, strong men set out to build a raft. In the meantime, they were calling quite a crowd. Julia watched them, enjoying the brave, industrious, possibly very foolish endeavors that men always seemed to set their sights on accomplishing.
"You know, this is what makes men great," she commented to no one in particular. Mok, who was near enough to hear her, gave her an odd little smile.
"Hmmm . . . maybe."
"It's what makes them idiots," asserted Satsumi, joining their conversation.
"Well, it makes them interesting," amended Julia, still believing that it made them great, even if they were idiots . . .
It had ended up with Byong falling into the water, soaking him to the bone, and Hwoarang almost suffering the same fate. He had fallen part of the way into the water, completely drenching his board shorts. The remaining crewmen had quickly paddled the raft back to shore, abandoning their fallen comrades. Hwoarang seeked sanctuary, climbing on top of a giant tire that was embedded in the sand and water somewhere close to shore. Hwoarang stood on top of it triumphantly, managing to keep his balance. Everyone on shore was calling for Byong to: "Push him off! Push him off!" Luckily, though, Byong was too prudent to risk incurring Hwoarang's wrath. The two ship- wrecked sailors finally did make it back to shore. Neither ventured out to the water after that.
It was now around ten at night. Julia had been locked in her room for about three hours. Hwoarang knew this because the only thing that separated him bedroom from Julia's was a curtain. He assumed that she was asleep. It had been a rather tiring day. Hwoarang was lying on his bed, but he was restless.
Making up his mind, Hwoarang grabbed his phone from out of his pocket and dialed a number that was very familiar to him by now. It was picked up on the second ring. "Yeah?"
"Hey, Joey. How many of you guys are around?"
"Enough."
"So you guys up to a sucker match tonight?" It was a term that either he or Joey had coined a few years back. Nobody could remember who came up with it originally, and they had spent many a drunken stupor arguing over who had first said "sucker match".
"Always." The succinct answer was given with a hint of relish.
"Excellent. See you in a few."
"Later." Hwoarang hung up. After a few moments of searching around under his bed, Hwoarang found the already made chain of clothing items and the like he used on a regular basis to climb in and out of his window undetected. He quickly stuck the loop part around one of his bedposts, then quietly opened his bedroom window and threw the other end outside. Then, he climbed into the window frame and began to scale down the side of the building.
------
Yes, there it was. Julia could definitely hear the sound of Hwoarang's feet thumping on the grass outside of his window. She hastily pulled on her leather jacket, pushed back the curtain, and ran to his window. He was already halfway down the street so she swiftly and silently made good use of his chain and chased after him. She knew that following him unnoticed would be a piece of cake for her.
This was around the third time that Hwoarang had snuck out of his window to meet up with some guy named "Joey", and Julia was just curious enough to find out what that was all about.
About three-quarters of the way there, Hwoarang ran into a small alleyway and came roaring out riding a shiny red motorcycle. Even then, it was still relatively easy for Julia to track him.
She was that good.
------
By the time that Hwoarang arrived at the bar, Joey had already scouted out their next "customers" (basically, suckers). It was one of the local biker gangs. Those idiots, they never learned. Like usual, Hwoarang had Jessica, the most sweet and innocent-looking of them all, go up and taunt the other gang until they were really pissed off. Since all of the other gang leaders had bricks for brains, they immediately wanted to challenge Hwoarang's gang to a fight. Coolly, Hwoarang sauntered over to the rival gang leader and dared him to place some good money on the fight. The idiots agreed without much persuasion. He flashed them a cocky grin and shook their clammy, dirty paws. "Things I do," he murmured under his breath.
The fight was held on the street in front of the bar. Not the best neighborhood, surrounding residents were used to these kinds of things happening in the middle of the night while they were trying to sleep.
They agreed to hold the fight in duel-style, one-on-one matches. It was always four of Hwoarang's weakest fighters versus four of the other gangs strongest. Hwoarang's team members lost, he made sure of that. Even the weakest members of Hwoarang's team were more than a match for their rivals so it was easy for them to lose convincingly without getting severely injured. Besides, the entire rival gang was stinking drunk anyway.
When the matches were over, Hwoarang pretended to be intimidated by the rival gang leader and begged him to have a final match, using the line: "Double or nothing?" in a believably nervous tone of voice. The suckers swallowed the act whole. Their mistake.
For the final match, their strongest (but certainly not smartest) stepped out. Good, good. Hwoarang liked that. The bigger they were, the harder they fell. When questioned as to which person would fight in the final round, Hwoarang jabbed his chest with his thumb and smiled crookedly. The other gang laughed their heads off. "A skinny twerp like you??? He's f---ing twice your size!"
"You wanna quadruple the bet?" challenged Hwoarang, defiant now. Of course, the foolish b------s agreed. Using the most rudimentary of his skills, Hwoarang pummeled the foolish dunderbrick with almost bore-inducing ease. Enraged, other members of the rival gang ran out to fight him. Hwoarang trashed every last one of them without raising a sweat. Inwardly, Hwoarang smiled every time he heard a nose cracking or a worn out body hitting something hard. He always did like a workout.
------
When Hwoarang returned to the alley where he had stashed his bike, he was more than a little shocked to find Julia waiting for him there. "Hey. Can I catch a ride home?" she requested nonchalantly. Angry welled up inside oh him, but he squashed it. As much as he felt that his privacy had been invaded, almost unforgivably so, he knew that being angry with her would not make his life any easier. Therefore, all he said was a hollow: "Yeah . . . okay."
------
Hwoarang was awoken by a hard punch to his arm. "Scoot." He did. In the darkness, Hwoarang could see Julia hop onto his bed wearing a simple sleepshirt and her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. She lie down on her stomach, folding her arms under her face. "Couldn't sleep," she explained after a minute. "Now I know what you do when you're restless, but, sadly, I have no such outlets." Her tone was conversational yet cautious. Hwoarang hadn't been outwardly mad at her on the whole way back, but she had gotten the distinct impression that he was absolutely furious. Warily, she ventured: "Hwoarang . . . how mad are you at me?"
Hwoarang didn't answer her for a long time. She was beginning to think he wasn't going to say anything when he finally gave her a slow reply. "When I was kid, I found out that I had some very interesting skills, skills that wouldn't be very applicable to a normal occupation."
"Such as?" Julia was expecting him to say something like beating people up, but his answer was much more complex.
"Such as the ability to reinvent myself whenever I had to." He paused a moment before continuing. "So I would go to school and be popular, then I'd come home and play with the trailer trash from down the street. Seriously . . . I think Jessica was the first girl I ever kissed." Julia smiled.
"That's sweet."
"Yeah, anyway, all of these things, like trips to the beach and s--- like that . . . that's my way of connecting with my friends like Tetsuya and Byong . . . But all of those people in my little fraud team . . . they're all like me. Rebels. Orphans. People without a home. Tough cookies. People who enjoy the thrills of fighting. These fixed matches are my way of connecting with them." Hwoarang blew out his breath. He hadn't meant to tell all of this to Julia, of all people, but somehow he knew, he knew that he could trust her. The words seemed to come on their own anyway, and nevermind what the Hell he thought. "For . . . all of my life, I've always been able to keep those two . . . compartments . . . of my life completely separate. I figured that it would be the same with you. I tried to fit you into one place, but when you spied on me tonight . . . you escaped the box, Julia." He sighed. "I know I sound crazy."
"Not really," she mumbled, beginning to fall asleep. Neither of them spoke again.
Something strange happened that night. Julia was no longer an outsider warily accepting courtesies nor was Hwoarang simply offering obligatory kindnesses. They were friends.
Okay, you know the drill. Please read and review! :-D