Author's note: Hey there. Another day, another update. Christman break is coming up soon for me and I should be able to send chapters more freqently when that happens. Yay! No school!

The whole day had ended with Asuka and Hwoarang entering the scaling Mishima owned hotel building, ostensibly half past midnight. The lights in the hallway that led up to their breezy air conditioned room were a little dim, but still functional and clear enough to make out the path ahead of them. Asuka pushed open her room door quietly after sliding the keycard the hotel had provided her with through the electronic lock.

She dawdled herself to the bathroom with her first priority of the usual washing up and changing into her nightclothes. Hwoarang, on the other hand, fell asleep at his bedside just as the side of his smug face dove into a cushioned pillow. Asuka stepped out in a slim black t-shirt and shorts, taking a brief notice of the Korean slumbering peacefully, looking happy with his typical boastful smile. She would have nagged him again about washing, but refrained from it just to leave Hwoarang alone, knowing his day was just as fun and exhausting as hers. Coming to the foot of his bed and checking him over, she slowly pulled the warm blankets over his resting body and walked to her bedside, her mouth stretched open from a soft yawn. Today they were friends, in a strange way, but tomorrow they would be enemies fighting against each other. Asuka did not seem to mind that Hwoarang and her would likely meet in the tournament to do battle, and the sleeping Korean had felt the same way. They were actually looking forward to seeing the full extent of the other's skill. With that in mind, Asuka pulled the chain on the lamp to switch it off, closed the envelopes of her eyes, and fell asleep.

The next morning Hwoarang awakened abruptly and noisily from his bedside, his eyes panning around the room in search of Asuka, who was nowhere in sight. Her bed, unusually made up, had the covers draped over it and her nightclothes lying on the top, folded neatly to perfection. Not worried, Hwoarang, with his jaws widespread, went into the bathroom for a hot shower before he threw on his fighting attire. He put on a white karate uniform, tied a band around his head, and laced up his tennis shoes when he finished drying off. Asuka still did not return, however.

Now suddenly having some concern over Asuka's disappearance, Hwoarang walked himself downstairs and into a large dining room where most of the other competitors were eating breakfast that the hotel had offered. He looked around, hoping he would spot Asuka sitting somewhere by herself, but saw nothing to that extent, just filled tables with some of the foes he encountered from last year's tournament. To his surprise, he saw his old sensei sitting at a table, Baek, opening a small but thick book, and scanning the printed black text with the nail of his finger.

"Master Baek?" Hwoarang asked, driving the man out of his peaceful state of mind.

His sensei looked up blankly.

"Hwoarang? Good to see you again. You did not expect to see me here, did you?"

"No sir," came a shaky voice.

"So how are you? Have you been staying out of trouble?" Baek said in a fatherly tone.

"Yes."

"That's good, you……"

Hwoarang then interrupted. "Um, Master Baek, I have a question."

"Yes? What is it?"

"I'm looking for a girl and I was wondering if you had seen her."

"A girl?" Beak stroked the hair on his face. "Describe her to me."

"Well, she's Japanese, kind of short, built like a woman, though she's looks no less than twenty, and has brown hair and eyes. She has a big melon shaped head and a funny little nose that twitches when she gets mad all the time. Not to mention she has this annoying as hell voice that sounds like…….."

"Hwoarang?" came a soft voice.

"Does she look and sound like her?" Baek smirked, pointing to the person standing behind his student.

Hwoarang turned around to see his roommate standing fixed with her arms brought into a fold. Judging by her expression, he could make out that she was not happy with his description of her body and facial features. Asuka wore a black halter top with overalls cut off far above her knees, black matching gauntlets, and lightly armored boots. It was actually like the same outfit she had worn in last year's tournament, just of an altered color.

"You know, I can't even count on my fingers how many times I've wanted to beat you senseless," she huffed.

Hwoarang snickered. "I did not realize you even knew how to count, runt."

Beak stroked his facial hair again. "Hwoarang. Is this your new girlfriend, by any chance?"

"Who? Her? No, of course not."

Asuka grunted, turned around, and started to walk away. Her stomach had growled three times straight, begging for nourishment. "I'm getting something to eat."

"Not without me your not," Hwoarang declared, smoothly, grabbing her arm and walking with her into the large line of people. Asuka was quiet during the whole wait, with her eyes focused only on people's trays that walked past her. Once they had obtained their food, they sat down at the nearest table and began eating.

"The tournament fighting stadium isn't too far from here. I've seen it," said Asuka. "They're already in the process of finishing things up."

Hwoarang just listened as Asuka talked, but soon, she had gone off into another discussion about something else that did not hold the Korean's interest for very long. He could only pause and nod his head as she asked him questions. But, unknown to him, she caught on quickly to his act.

"Ok, big shot, what did I just say?" Asuka asked, knowing he had not been listening to a word she said.

"I don't know," Hwoarang admitted, shrugging. "And I don't really care."

Showing a sentiment of feeling disrespected, Asuka devoured the rest of her breakfast, angrily pounded her fist against the table, and walked off, not even bothering to scoot her chair back in its original place. Hwoarang was under the impression that maybe he had hurt the Japanese girl's feelings, but that was a rare occurrence. He never knew Asuka to just get up and leave. Normally, she would hit him or dish out one of her usual insults, but during that time she did nothing, she just vacated herself to another location away from him.

"Maybe that was a little harsh," Hwoarang thought. "I should apologize. But, on the other hand, why should I? She does nothing but talk about gossip and stupid crap I couldn't care less for."

He went back to munching the soggy cereal between his grinding teeth and then rose from his chair to head to the fighting tournament, following suite with the other fighters that had already left.

The King of Iron Fist Tournament was just now within its beginning phase with the announcer announcing the lineup of competitors as well as how long each match would last. If the timer ran out and the match ended without a winner, the fighter who had carried out the most damage and appeared able to continue fighting would obtain the victory, while the loser would be out of the tournament and have his or her name knocked off the bracket.

The matches were off to a slow start, not really holding the audiences attention for very long. But hope still existed to make things interesting. In natural suspicion, Jin Kazama lurked from the shadows privately, fully recuperated from his illness, as he kept his eye on an unnamed fighter, one he had never seen before at the other events.

Meanwhile, Asuka warmed herself, stretching and cracking the bones of her body. Ling Xiaoyu then appeared from her right.

"Asuka! Hey!" she greeted, harmoniously. "You ready to fight?"

The seventeen-year-old girl did not respond as she continued her stretching. Something was on her mind, vexing her.

"Yo, earth to Asuka! Hello?"

Asuka shook out of her concentration.

"Oh, sorry. I did not mean to ignore you," she apologized.

"Are you ok? It looks like something's wrong. You wanna talk about it?"

Asuka leaned herself against the barricade below the bleachers and sighed.

"I got a bad feeling about something."

"A bad feeling? About what?"

"I don't know. I've been walking about so far and nothing has happened to me."

"What are saying? Are you expecting someone to try and hurt you again?"

"No, it's nothing. Don't worry yourself over it," she said, trying to steer away from the subject.

Asuka then had heard Hwoarang's name called first through the speakers for the next match. It was now his turn to fight, but his opponent's name went unheard, that is, until he made his entrance present in the fighting square. A stranger, hiding his face underneath a cloaked mask, named Demosquose, was the revealed opponent, and Hwoarang could do nothing but smile as he saw the match ending in his favor rather quickly.

"This should be easy," he thought.

Asuka grunted in disgust as she saw the Korean's face come into her line of view as she looked on from the outside of the fighting square. Hwoarang and Demosquose met eye to eye, as they came to the center of the fighting floor with stern expressions. Neither man flinched or turned away from the other. Their cold glares remained in place for several seconds, until the referee had authorized them to begin the fight. Hwoarang brought one arm back and the other forward as he drew up a well prepared fighting stance.

"Come on, let's dance!" he jolted.

Demosquose stood stiffly like an immovable statue and did nothing as the cocky gang leader taunted and teased him. Hworang waited for his opponent to make a move, but did not seem mobile. Soon, Hwoarang had become impatient with his foe as he continued to hold still and not move an inch of his feet off the floor, or move his entire body.

"Are you going to just stand there all day? Fight already!" Hwoarang commanded.

The mystic stranger just stood with a gaze, but not Hwoarang, who intended to do something different. It was getting ridiculous to people just stand and stare, and the crowd booed in response to nothing happening inside the ring as no action took place to excite them.

Finally, Hwoarang had had enough of the nonsense. He swung his leg in the air for kick to Demosquose's head, but his body froze in place as he felt something numb him from within his nerves. He then dropped to the concrete slab floor, screaming in immense pain. Noticing this, Asuka came closer to the ring to check on him.

"Hwoarang, what's wrong?"

"Something……something…..something is attacking me!"

"What? Where? I can't see it!"

"It's my head! It feels like something is crushing my head!"

Demosquose smirked under his mask, and, for the first time, spoke.

"You are a great asset to us," he hissed. "Now you must serve our wishes. You are to kill……her."

The mysterious fighter pointed a haggard finger at Asuka and folded his arms in wait. Hwoarang tried to fight whatever it was attacking him from inside and sustain it, but he could not do it for long. He struggled and struggled hard .The thing started to take over, take control as it ached his mind, leaving him a brainless zombie. His eyes then shifted into the same color the other fighters had donned when they attacked Asuka for the very first time.

"Hwoarang? Are you alright?"

The Korean did not answer. His eyes beamed to the side, glaring with a spooky glow at Asuka as he approached and grasped hold of her neck with two strong, frigid hands.

"Wh….What are you do….ing?" the girl coughed as she could feel her body rising up off the ground.

"Fulfilling a mission," answered Demonsquose, with a twisted laugh.