Love Worth Fighting For
By Indigo Siren
Disclaimer: Tekken is © to Namco. I am making no money from this fan fiction; it is just for fun. I however own all the characters that are not apart of the Tekken franchise. All rights reserved.
Chapter 2
Weeks of preparation had come and gone, and the King of the Iron Fist Tournament had come once again. People from all over the world flocked to Japan, specifically to the Mishima Zaibatsu in Tokyo, the sponsoring company that accommodated its participants.
One special night particularly, a pre-tournament introductory banquet was held. It brought all the fighters together for one night of peace and celebration of yet another competition, with Heihachi Mishima giving a speech and officially opening the tournament.
The usual formal politics as it seemed.
The banquet was held at one of the many prestigious halls on the Mishima grounds, decorated in lights, showing off the wealth and glamour that the Zaibatsu held in its grasp.
The night would consist of a large feast, dancing and generally being a social gathering. It was a very open evening, with no limitations. Though Xiaoyu loved these kinds of events, she hated the fact she has to be trapped with restricting punctilious dressage. Heihachi has seen to it that she only wore the best money could buy.
Her outfit was very established, compared to what everyone else was wearing. The yukata (a simple cotton kimono) that she had to wear was very traditional of Japanese wear for women. It was a very soft shade of pink, with the large belt being a deep red and maroon mixed pattern. She would have preferred to have worn something Chinese, as it felt she was insulting her own culture for wearing the yukata, but Heihachi insisted it showed she was very respectful and open to all aspects of worldly traditions.
She felt rather naked without her trademark pigtails, as she was forced to wear them in buns, decorated in ruby-headed pins. It just wasn't the same. It made her feel like someone else. Some people hadn't even recognised her at first, especially Julia Chang, an old friend from the last tournament. After taking a while to convince her she was the same Ling Xiaoyu, she decided to hide in her seat along one the long tables that took up one end of the hall. The central part was where everyone was socialising, and where the dancing would be.
She almost jumped as Lei Wulong appeared beside her. She looked up at him and realised he was too indulged at picking at the appetisers, he hadn't really noticed her. He was about to eat a small pastry when he noticed her and jumped.
"Woah!" He just managed to keep hold of the little snack. "Xiaoyu! This is a pleasant surprise!"
"Hello, Lei!" She grinned, hopping up from her seat and giving him a tight hug.
"Easy, little pixie," he wheezed as she held onto him tightly. "I'm not as stable as I used to be! These old bones are showing their wear!"
"Come off it!" Xiaoyu argued, stepping back with her hands on her hips. "You're not old!"
"You'd be surprised," he said with a wink. "So, what you doing in the tournament? After that dream amusement park again?"
Xiaoyu's eyes lit up. "Yeah! How could I not? I really am prepared to do what it takes."
"Better luck this year," he patted her shoulder, turning to smile at the new comer to their group. "Ah, Julia, I wondered where you ran off to."
"I got trapped by that Paul Phoenix guy," Julia came to stand with them, sighing. "He's not very smooth with the ladies. He needs to know that he hair is a big turn off!"
Lei burst out laughing hard, enough to almost choke.
Xiaoyu patted his back. "Calm down, big boy."
"And besides, you went off hunting the food they've put out thus far," Julia emphasised by pointing at the pastry he had in his hand. He just shrugged, going back to attack the tray of little delicacies.
***
Miharu stepped across the large courtyard of the Mishima Zaibatsu, heading towards the large hall where the sounds of classical music enraptured an immense audience. She could tell most of the competitors were already there.
As she went to the main doors, she was asked for her invite. She quickly fished it from her purse and entered, sighing as the warmth hit her. It had been too damn cold outside, for what she was wearing anyway.
The thin blouse hung loose over her skin and was almost transparent. The sleeves were wide ended and her hand was nearly covered by the thin layer, and she found it difficult to pick things up, as she had to push the sleeves up to do so. The thin strapped dress over the top was a silver colour and tied with a bow at the back. She wanted to look very feminine and young, almost deceiving to be weak. The click of her high heels on the marble floor prompted a few heads to turn her way on her entering the large hall, but most were either dismissive or didn't care.
She suddenly felt lost. There was so many people milling about. She just slowly walked around the edge of the hall, avoiding the bulking masses of well-built men that seemed to appear out of nowhere. She didn't know whether she was intimidated or just plain grossed out.
"Miharu! Over here!"
She perked up when hearing that voice and followed the sound to one of the long tables just a way from where she was standing. Xiaoyu smiled and waved, and Miharu quickly made her way over to the Chinese girl, who was huddled together with two other people around a small part of the table.
Xiaoyu greeted her with a hug. "Glad you could make it!"
"Sorry I'm late," she apologised. "I had problems with the taxi. It came fifteen minutes late and then we got caught in traffic. So typical!"
"Aww, poor you," Xiaoyu consoled and guided her attention to the two other people. "Miharu, I would like you to meet my friends. This is Julia Chang." The older girl nodded and said her hello. "And this is Lei Wulong. Lei, Julia, this is Miharu Hirano."
Miharu's eyes widened at the older man. "Super Police, Lei Wulong?"
"You know me?" He extended his hand to her and they shook.
"I've heard many things through my father. My Uncle works for the Tokyo police and your name comes up a lot."
"It's great to know I'm still appreciated in some places," he said almost bitterly, but turned away from wherever that deep emotion came from and continued to smile at Miharu, drawing his hand back. "It's a pleasure."
Miharu nodded and took the seat that was offered to her by the Chinese girl and they sat down to talk. She learnt a lot about the two new friends she had just made, and thought her life was boring compared to theirs.
She found out Julia was part of a Native American community after being adopted into their tribe, and that also she was a college student in Arizona and studied archaeology. She'd been doing a project on reforestation for her homeland but the project was suspended due to an incident and her leads brought her to the tournament.
Lei's was a story that made her sympathise. His girlfriend had left him and now he was on suspension due to a mess up with his work. His role at the tournament was to crack a case and redeem his honour. Miharu wished him the best of luck.
Of course, before she could blab on about how abominable her life had been thus far, a man approached them, a rather irritable look on his face. He was dressed in a loose shirt and trousers, looking clean and respectable, but with that added feeling of being unrefined. His hair was slicked back in a mass of fiery red, which suddenly had her pin a street punk tag on him.
Xiaoyu turned as he came and her face went blank. "Oh, it's you."
"Ling Xiaoyu…" He said with a mocking smile. "You ain't any different since I last saw you. Still a little pixie doll made of sugar and spice and all that crap."
She scowled. "What do you want? If you just came to insult me, get it over with then push off. I'm not going to let you ruin my night."
"Chill," he said, raising his hands. "I just wanted to know if you've seen Kazama?"
Xiaoyu's face never changed, though the look in her eyes showed that hearing his name brought back so many long forgotten memories.
"Look, he's been missing since the last tournament, nobody's seen him," she said sternly.
"Don't get all touchy," he snapped at her. "I was just asking. I knew that pansy boy wouldn't show."
Miharu gripped the table spread, almost tearing it under her fingers. She wanted to plant her foot straight in his mouth, but that would get her nowhere. And besides, she wasn't prepared to fight and by the looks of him, he may easily squash her like a bug.
"Watch what you say about Jin," Xiaoyu growled. "If he shows or not, it's his business."
"You better stay out of my way, pixie princess," he put his finger onto her head, pushing back until she slapped his hand away, hard. "But if I find out you've been holding out information on me about Kazama's whereabouts, I won't hesitate to break in that pretty little face of yours."
"Just try it," Xiaoyu challenged, narrowing her eyes.
He looked like he was getting into a fighting stance before Lei intervened, standing between them.
"Just go find someone else to harass, and stop trying to pick fights," he warned.
"Whatever, old man. I'm going anyway," he turned, not before casting an icy glare on Xiaoyu. He walked away with a heavy stride.
There was moment's silence before Miharu spoke up. "Who was that?"
"You had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting Hwoarang," Julia said.
"He's such a retard," Xiaoyu muttered, the anger never leaving her face.
Miharu raised an eyebrow. "Hwoarang, eh? Sounds like a toilet cleaner."
The other three turned to her. Xiaoyu's angry expression had turned to that of pure amusement. Miharu joined in with the laughing that ensued.
"May I have your attention please," A voice rang out over a radio system.
The hall began to quiet down and Miharu and the group hid their laughter behind faint sniggering, so they could listen.
"Thank you, now may I introduce to you, the leader of the Mishima Financial Empire and the sponsor of the tournament. The King of the Iron Fist himself, Heihachi Mishima."
The hall erupted into applauds, but most were half-hearted or very sarcastic. The CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu stepped out onto the large platform a head of them, dressed in an expensively tailored suit, overlapped by a coat with a big fur trim. His old wrinkling face was cast into a deep smile, as he rose a hand to quiet the room down again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to my humble estate, and thank you for coming tonight to this illustrious banquet. Before my attendants serve you the most exquisite of feasts that you'll ever have the fortune to taste, I'd like to say a few words to you all."
"Boring… Pass me a pillow," Julia whispered. "Nobody minds me sleeping do they?"
Xiaoyu giggled lightly. "Go right ahead."
"As you know, the Iron Fist Tournament is the most successful fighting competition, that has brought together the best of best the world has to offer. For many years, the best fighters have crossed my path and proved they are worthy to challenge for the title of the King of Iron Fist. But, unfortunately, they could not stand tall against the head of the Mishima Zaibatsu. But this year, I see a lot of worthy challengers amongst you. I will be glad to see you throughout this competition. So without further ado, I declare that the King of Iron Fist Tournament 4, has begun."
Cheers echoed off the walls of the hall, and Heihachi stood proud, smile widening.
"Thank you. Bring in the feast," Heihachi beckoned to his staff and a set of doors opened, revealing people pushing in trolley after trolley, containing trays of food.
"Now, this is what I came for!" Lei grinned, getting his shoulder playfully punched by Xiaoyu.
***
"I'm stuffed," Xiaoyu groaned as she rubbed a full stomach.
"I'm going to burst out of my dress," Miharu said, wiping her mouth with her napkin.
"What an awful sight that would be," Xiaoyu teased, only to get the used napkin thrown her way. She dodged it and stuck out her tongue.
"Oh, they've changed the music," Julia noted, as now the songs were much more modern then before. "Finally, something I can dance to."
"It's a slow song," Lei grinned and held out his hand to her. "Care to dance?"
"Why not," she accepted the hand and he took her to the dance floor where others had got a similar idea.
Xiaoyu smiled at them as they went but it soon faded as she and Miharu were left aside the dancing, with nobody to cuddle up to.
"Depressing isn't it," Miharu said, literally speaking Xiaoyu's mind.
"Yeah. Where are the decent boys when you need them?" Xiaoyu sunk into her chair.
"Look about, there may be someone out there just for you," Miharu said as they both gazed at all the different men, unique with their different colours, heights and personalities.
"No way, not my type of men," Xiaoyu shook her head. "Too egotistical. And they are all about being buff and inhumanly strong!"
"What is your kind of man?" Miharu inquired.
"I don't know," Xiaoyu said with a sigh. "I'm going to raid the punch bowl. You want some?"
"Not for me thanks," Miharu declined. "Water suits me just fine."
Xiaoyu mouthed an okay and left Miharu sitting alone, watching the dancers in the centre of the room. Some looked like matches made in heaven, while others looked very grumpy, like they were forced into the dancing ritual.
The air was hot, almost as if the building were a giant oven, cooking them slowly. The heat had brought a red flush across Miharu's cheeks and over the bridge of her nose. She settled back in the cool seat, closing her eyes as she felt the first sting of sweat lick at her eyelids. She fumbled blindly for a napkin on the table, knocking over an empty glass before finding a clean one stacked in the middle of the table.
She dabbed her face and slowly blinked, ignoring the blur as she rubbed the soft tissue over her eyes, returning her vision. She wiped her forehead and settled back again.
Her eyes trailed over the bustling hall, looking at each individual who could be a future opponent. She saw Lei and Julia still dancing, but this time Julia was trying to get him to move to a more rhythmical beat. It brought a smile to Miharu's lips, and her attention went past them to a blonde man standing by a far wall, chatting to a group of ladies. His hair was slicked back and now and again, he'd rub his hand over his hair, laughing wildly with bright eyes. His voice was loud and vibrant, and she could instantly tell by the accent that he was British. Close to him, she kept see a blonde woman in a tight purple dress that was high above the knee. She was watching the British man carefully, but also melded in with the crowd often enough that she seemed to disappear into thin air. She saw that Hwoarang man chatting to a busty woman, who barely looked older than she did. She was dressed in a revealing top and skirt, flicking back deep burgundy hair. She was definitely flirting with the redhead, and he loved it. She turned away, disgusted, her eyes suddenly falling towards a thicket of people. She stood up slowly, her breath caught in her throat.
Was it her imagination, or was she seeing that familiar dark widows peak? She squinted and tried to get a better look as that headed bobbed about behind the groups of people. She left the table and advanced towards the crowd. She prayed that it was Jin. She would die and go to heaven just to see his face again.
She pushed through the crowd, ever getting closer, but to her horror, whomever it was moved away, heading for the door. She panicked and rushed, almost tripping in her high heels. She apologised to people she pushed and was glad to make it through. She froze.
He wasn't there. No sign of him or anyone with that similar hair style.
Her heart sank.
"You alright, Miharu?" Xiaoyu joined her side, sipping her punch.
"Oh, I… just though I saw someone," Miharu said slowly, eyes still scanning.
"Want to go join me on the dance floor?" Xiaoyu finished up her drink, giving pleading eyes to her friend.
Miharu gave up and turned to Xiaoyu, giving a small nod. "Alright then."
"Wicked." She took her arm and pulled her back further into the room, though Miharu didn't keep her eyes from the doorway.
She could have sworn she'd seen him. But then again, her mind loved to play tricks on her.
By Indigo Siren
Disclaimer: Tekken is © to Namco. I am making no money from this fan fiction; it is just for fun. I however own all the characters that are not apart of the Tekken franchise. All rights reserved.
Chapter 2
Weeks of preparation had come and gone, and the King of the Iron Fist Tournament had come once again. People from all over the world flocked to Japan, specifically to the Mishima Zaibatsu in Tokyo, the sponsoring company that accommodated its participants.
One special night particularly, a pre-tournament introductory banquet was held. It brought all the fighters together for one night of peace and celebration of yet another competition, with Heihachi Mishima giving a speech and officially opening the tournament.
The usual formal politics as it seemed.
The banquet was held at one of the many prestigious halls on the Mishima grounds, decorated in lights, showing off the wealth and glamour that the Zaibatsu held in its grasp.
The night would consist of a large feast, dancing and generally being a social gathering. It was a very open evening, with no limitations. Though Xiaoyu loved these kinds of events, she hated the fact she has to be trapped with restricting punctilious dressage. Heihachi has seen to it that she only wore the best money could buy.
Her outfit was very established, compared to what everyone else was wearing. The yukata (a simple cotton kimono) that she had to wear was very traditional of Japanese wear for women. It was a very soft shade of pink, with the large belt being a deep red and maroon mixed pattern. She would have preferred to have worn something Chinese, as it felt she was insulting her own culture for wearing the yukata, but Heihachi insisted it showed she was very respectful and open to all aspects of worldly traditions.
She felt rather naked without her trademark pigtails, as she was forced to wear them in buns, decorated in ruby-headed pins. It just wasn't the same. It made her feel like someone else. Some people hadn't even recognised her at first, especially Julia Chang, an old friend from the last tournament. After taking a while to convince her she was the same Ling Xiaoyu, she decided to hide in her seat along one the long tables that took up one end of the hall. The central part was where everyone was socialising, and where the dancing would be.
She almost jumped as Lei Wulong appeared beside her. She looked up at him and realised he was too indulged at picking at the appetisers, he hadn't really noticed her. He was about to eat a small pastry when he noticed her and jumped.
"Woah!" He just managed to keep hold of the little snack. "Xiaoyu! This is a pleasant surprise!"
"Hello, Lei!" She grinned, hopping up from her seat and giving him a tight hug.
"Easy, little pixie," he wheezed as she held onto him tightly. "I'm not as stable as I used to be! These old bones are showing their wear!"
"Come off it!" Xiaoyu argued, stepping back with her hands on her hips. "You're not old!"
"You'd be surprised," he said with a wink. "So, what you doing in the tournament? After that dream amusement park again?"
Xiaoyu's eyes lit up. "Yeah! How could I not? I really am prepared to do what it takes."
"Better luck this year," he patted her shoulder, turning to smile at the new comer to their group. "Ah, Julia, I wondered where you ran off to."
"I got trapped by that Paul Phoenix guy," Julia came to stand with them, sighing. "He's not very smooth with the ladies. He needs to know that he hair is a big turn off!"
Lei burst out laughing hard, enough to almost choke.
Xiaoyu patted his back. "Calm down, big boy."
"And besides, you went off hunting the food they've put out thus far," Julia emphasised by pointing at the pastry he had in his hand. He just shrugged, going back to attack the tray of little delicacies.
***
Miharu stepped across the large courtyard of the Mishima Zaibatsu, heading towards the large hall where the sounds of classical music enraptured an immense audience. She could tell most of the competitors were already there.
As she went to the main doors, she was asked for her invite. She quickly fished it from her purse and entered, sighing as the warmth hit her. It had been too damn cold outside, for what she was wearing anyway.
The thin blouse hung loose over her skin and was almost transparent. The sleeves were wide ended and her hand was nearly covered by the thin layer, and she found it difficult to pick things up, as she had to push the sleeves up to do so. The thin strapped dress over the top was a silver colour and tied with a bow at the back. She wanted to look very feminine and young, almost deceiving to be weak. The click of her high heels on the marble floor prompted a few heads to turn her way on her entering the large hall, but most were either dismissive or didn't care.
She suddenly felt lost. There was so many people milling about. She just slowly walked around the edge of the hall, avoiding the bulking masses of well-built men that seemed to appear out of nowhere. She didn't know whether she was intimidated or just plain grossed out.
"Miharu! Over here!"
She perked up when hearing that voice and followed the sound to one of the long tables just a way from where she was standing. Xiaoyu smiled and waved, and Miharu quickly made her way over to the Chinese girl, who was huddled together with two other people around a small part of the table.
Xiaoyu greeted her with a hug. "Glad you could make it!"
"Sorry I'm late," she apologised. "I had problems with the taxi. It came fifteen minutes late and then we got caught in traffic. So typical!"
"Aww, poor you," Xiaoyu consoled and guided her attention to the two other people. "Miharu, I would like you to meet my friends. This is Julia Chang." The older girl nodded and said her hello. "And this is Lei Wulong. Lei, Julia, this is Miharu Hirano."
Miharu's eyes widened at the older man. "Super Police, Lei Wulong?"
"You know me?" He extended his hand to her and they shook.
"I've heard many things through my father. My Uncle works for the Tokyo police and your name comes up a lot."
"It's great to know I'm still appreciated in some places," he said almost bitterly, but turned away from wherever that deep emotion came from and continued to smile at Miharu, drawing his hand back. "It's a pleasure."
Miharu nodded and took the seat that was offered to her by the Chinese girl and they sat down to talk. She learnt a lot about the two new friends she had just made, and thought her life was boring compared to theirs.
She found out Julia was part of a Native American community after being adopted into their tribe, and that also she was a college student in Arizona and studied archaeology. She'd been doing a project on reforestation for her homeland but the project was suspended due to an incident and her leads brought her to the tournament.
Lei's was a story that made her sympathise. His girlfriend had left him and now he was on suspension due to a mess up with his work. His role at the tournament was to crack a case and redeem his honour. Miharu wished him the best of luck.
Of course, before she could blab on about how abominable her life had been thus far, a man approached them, a rather irritable look on his face. He was dressed in a loose shirt and trousers, looking clean and respectable, but with that added feeling of being unrefined. His hair was slicked back in a mass of fiery red, which suddenly had her pin a street punk tag on him.
Xiaoyu turned as he came and her face went blank. "Oh, it's you."
"Ling Xiaoyu…" He said with a mocking smile. "You ain't any different since I last saw you. Still a little pixie doll made of sugar and spice and all that crap."
She scowled. "What do you want? If you just came to insult me, get it over with then push off. I'm not going to let you ruin my night."
"Chill," he said, raising his hands. "I just wanted to know if you've seen Kazama?"
Xiaoyu's face never changed, though the look in her eyes showed that hearing his name brought back so many long forgotten memories.
"Look, he's been missing since the last tournament, nobody's seen him," she said sternly.
"Don't get all touchy," he snapped at her. "I was just asking. I knew that pansy boy wouldn't show."
Miharu gripped the table spread, almost tearing it under her fingers. She wanted to plant her foot straight in his mouth, but that would get her nowhere. And besides, she wasn't prepared to fight and by the looks of him, he may easily squash her like a bug.
"Watch what you say about Jin," Xiaoyu growled. "If he shows or not, it's his business."
"You better stay out of my way, pixie princess," he put his finger onto her head, pushing back until she slapped his hand away, hard. "But if I find out you've been holding out information on me about Kazama's whereabouts, I won't hesitate to break in that pretty little face of yours."
"Just try it," Xiaoyu challenged, narrowing her eyes.
He looked like he was getting into a fighting stance before Lei intervened, standing between them.
"Just go find someone else to harass, and stop trying to pick fights," he warned.
"Whatever, old man. I'm going anyway," he turned, not before casting an icy glare on Xiaoyu. He walked away with a heavy stride.
There was moment's silence before Miharu spoke up. "Who was that?"
"You had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting Hwoarang," Julia said.
"He's such a retard," Xiaoyu muttered, the anger never leaving her face.
Miharu raised an eyebrow. "Hwoarang, eh? Sounds like a toilet cleaner."
The other three turned to her. Xiaoyu's angry expression had turned to that of pure amusement. Miharu joined in with the laughing that ensued.
"May I have your attention please," A voice rang out over a radio system.
The hall began to quiet down and Miharu and the group hid their laughter behind faint sniggering, so they could listen.
"Thank you, now may I introduce to you, the leader of the Mishima Financial Empire and the sponsor of the tournament. The King of the Iron Fist himself, Heihachi Mishima."
The hall erupted into applauds, but most were half-hearted or very sarcastic. The CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu stepped out onto the large platform a head of them, dressed in an expensively tailored suit, overlapped by a coat with a big fur trim. His old wrinkling face was cast into a deep smile, as he rose a hand to quiet the room down again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you to my humble estate, and thank you for coming tonight to this illustrious banquet. Before my attendants serve you the most exquisite of feasts that you'll ever have the fortune to taste, I'd like to say a few words to you all."
"Boring… Pass me a pillow," Julia whispered. "Nobody minds me sleeping do they?"
Xiaoyu giggled lightly. "Go right ahead."
"As you know, the Iron Fist Tournament is the most successful fighting competition, that has brought together the best of best the world has to offer. For many years, the best fighters have crossed my path and proved they are worthy to challenge for the title of the King of Iron Fist. But, unfortunately, they could not stand tall against the head of the Mishima Zaibatsu. But this year, I see a lot of worthy challengers amongst you. I will be glad to see you throughout this competition. So without further ado, I declare that the King of Iron Fist Tournament 4, has begun."
Cheers echoed off the walls of the hall, and Heihachi stood proud, smile widening.
"Thank you. Bring in the feast," Heihachi beckoned to his staff and a set of doors opened, revealing people pushing in trolley after trolley, containing trays of food.
"Now, this is what I came for!" Lei grinned, getting his shoulder playfully punched by Xiaoyu.
***
"I'm stuffed," Xiaoyu groaned as she rubbed a full stomach.
"I'm going to burst out of my dress," Miharu said, wiping her mouth with her napkin.
"What an awful sight that would be," Xiaoyu teased, only to get the used napkin thrown her way. She dodged it and stuck out her tongue.
"Oh, they've changed the music," Julia noted, as now the songs were much more modern then before. "Finally, something I can dance to."
"It's a slow song," Lei grinned and held out his hand to her. "Care to dance?"
"Why not," she accepted the hand and he took her to the dance floor where others had got a similar idea.
Xiaoyu smiled at them as they went but it soon faded as she and Miharu were left aside the dancing, with nobody to cuddle up to.
"Depressing isn't it," Miharu said, literally speaking Xiaoyu's mind.
"Yeah. Where are the decent boys when you need them?" Xiaoyu sunk into her chair.
"Look about, there may be someone out there just for you," Miharu said as they both gazed at all the different men, unique with their different colours, heights and personalities.
"No way, not my type of men," Xiaoyu shook her head. "Too egotistical. And they are all about being buff and inhumanly strong!"
"What is your kind of man?" Miharu inquired.
"I don't know," Xiaoyu said with a sigh. "I'm going to raid the punch bowl. You want some?"
"Not for me thanks," Miharu declined. "Water suits me just fine."
Xiaoyu mouthed an okay and left Miharu sitting alone, watching the dancers in the centre of the room. Some looked like matches made in heaven, while others looked very grumpy, like they were forced into the dancing ritual.
The air was hot, almost as if the building were a giant oven, cooking them slowly. The heat had brought a red flush across Miharu's cheeks and over the bridge of her nose. She settled back in the cool seat, closing her eyes as she felt the first sting of sweat lick at her eyelids. She fumbled blindly for a napkin on the table, knocking over an empty glass before finding a clean one stacked in the middle of the table.
She dabbed her face and slowly blinked, ignoring the blur as she rubbed the soft tissue over her eyes, returning her vision. She wiped her forehead and settled back again.
Her eyes trailed over the bustling hall, looking at each individual who could be a future opponent. She saw Lei and Julia still dancing, but this time Julia was trying to get him to move to a more rhythmical beat. It brought a smile to Miharu's lips, and her attention went past them to a blonde man standing by a far wall, chatting to a group of ladies. His hair was slicked back and now and again, he'd rub his hand over his hair, laughing wildly with bright eyes. His voice was loud and vibrant, and she could instantly tell by the accent that he was British. Close to him, she kept see a blonde woman in a tight purple dress that was high above the knee. She was watching the British man carefully, but also melded in with the crowd often enough that she seemed to disappear into thin air. She saw that Hwoarang man chatting to a busty woman, who barely looked older than she did. She was dressed in a revealing top and skirt, flicking back deep burgundy hair. She was definitely flirting with the redhead, and he loved it. She turned away, disgusted, her eyes suddenly falling towards a thicket of people. She stood up slowly, her breath caught in her throat.
Was it her imagination, or was she seeing that familiar dark widows peak? She squinted and tried to get a better look as that headed bobbed about behind the groups of people. She left the table and advanced towards the crowd. She prayed that it was Jin. She would die and go to heaven just to see his face again.
She pushed through the crowd, ever getting closer, but to her horror, whomever it was moved away, heading for the door. She panicked and rushed, almost tripping in her high heels. She apologised to people she pushed and was glad to make it through. She froze.
He wasn't there. No sign of him or anyone with that similar hair style.
Her heart sank.
"You alright, Miharu?" Xiaoyu joined her side, sipping her punch.
"Oh, I… just though I saw someone," Miharu said slowly, eyes still scanning.
"Want to go join me on the dance floor?" Xiaoyu finished up her drink, giving pleading eyes to her friend.
Miharu gave up and turned to Xiaoyu, giving a small nod. "Alright then."
"Wicked." She took her arm and pulled her back further into the room, though Miharu didn't keep her eyes from the doorway.
She could have sworn she'd seen him. But then again, her mind loved to play tricks on her.