Chapter Fifteen: Fire Dancer
Faster, faster! Xiaoyu gasped to herself as she tripped over the pebbles and loose stones on her way down the rocky hillside. Her headlong rush came to a messy stop as she hopped through the graves, attempting to avoid stepping on any of the small mounds around her feet. "Hwoarang!" she yelled, jogging towards the redhead. As if in answer, a small spurt of green flame exploded a few feet away, and Xiaoyu jumped with a tiny scream.
"Hey, so you came after all!" Hwoarang had turned away from his opponent and was casually strolling towards her, a lopsided smile on his face. "Guess you couldn't resist me after all," he joked. Seeing Xiaoyu's look of panic, a momentary wariness crossed his face. "Don't tell me you're still mad about that panda thing—"
"This is not about the panda costume!" Xiaoyu exploded, throwing her hands up into the air. "Don't you notice anything a little strange here right now?" she yelled at the tall redhead. As she spoke, a raven cawed overhead and another few spurts of sickly green flame exploded around them.
"Strange?" Hwoarang said, glancing around and rubbing the back of his head. "Well, you're here," he pointed out helpfully. "Why, do you feel something again?" he teased, wiggling his fingers at Xiaoyu and making whoo-ing sounds. "OWW! Shit!" he yelled a moment later as Xiaoyu's open palm came into contact with his forehead in a direct frontal slap.
"Wake up, you idiot!" Xiaoyu fumed, waving her arms at the graveyard all around them. "Does this place look normal to you? What about the graves? What about the sky? What about all this green fire? What about that human pincushion?" she yelled, pointing behind Hwoarang at the tall white-haired man, who was simply standing there with his arms crossed and his eyes closed.
Hwoarang scowled and glanced at their surroundings cluelessly. "What the hell's your problem, anyway? The Corp always pulls out the big guns for their Tournament stages." He grinned as another spurt of the unhealthy green flame flared close to their feet. "It's all a big show and you know it. So unless you see that winged freak of nature flying by, stop wiggin' out on me. I have a fight to win!"
Xiaoyu recoiled, her hand automatically reaching for the pendant around her neck. "What did you just call him?" she said incredulously. "You saw Jin yourself. You know he's fighting it! How could you say something horrible like that?" she shrieked.
Hwoarang paused, his eyes dropping to the feather around Xiaoyu's neck, and his mouth pulled down into an ugly grimace. "Still sticking up for him, huh?" he said stiffly. "Well guess what, Sunshine. That bastard copped out on our fight like the coward he is," he spat. "He nearly killed us both, and he didn't even have the guts to show up and keep his promise, but you're still holding a goddamned torch for him!" He crossed his arms and turned his head away, glaring furiously at the graves. "You're just as fuckin' messed up as he is, you know that?" he muttered under his breath.
Xiaoyu opened her mouth to reply hotly, and then paused. "Are you sure…" Julia's voice whispered in her ear, conjuring her inner demons and questions. She looked down at the feather, still clutched tightly in her palm, and forced her fingers to loosen. It glowed, soft, pure and white, and yet all she could think about was Miharu's scared eyes, begging her for an answer. "I don't love him," she said quietly, letting the pendant drop to her chest.
Hwoarang glanced back at Xiaoyu, a look of surprise on his face. "What?" he said dumbly.
Xiaoyu narrowed her eyes and glared at Hwoarang. "I said, I don't love him," she answered loudly. "I'm still going to help him, though, because he's my friend. If you're too pig-headed and egotistical to see past the front of your own nose, that's not my problem. But you don't have to go around insulting other people just because you don't always get what you want!" she yelled angrily. "I know this is going to come as a shock to you, but you're not the center of the universe, Hwoarang! In fact, I think you're a bigger crybaby than me! You just cover it up with swearing!" Xiaoyu finished, pointing her finger at the Korean.
This did get a reaction out of Hwoarang, who grit his teeth. "Did you just call me a whiner, you little brat?" he growled.
Xiaoyu's temper reached a peak, and she planted her hands on her hips and sucked in a huge breath in preparation, all thoughts of the spooky graveyard banished from her mind. "WELL EXCUSE ME FOR TELLING THE TRUTH!" she screamed, her face flushing red. "You just did it again, you big fat jerk! I am not a brat! So maybe I'm not as mature as Julia or as nice as Asuka! So maybe I don't dress as well as Christy! And maybe I don't have her assets," she sputtered angrily, gesturing at her chest. "That doesn't mean I'm a little kid! And if you keep treating me like one, I swear, you're going to regret it!" She opened her mouth to continue, and paused with annoyed confusion as she saw that Hwoarang was laughing. "What's so funny?" she shouted at him.
"You," Hwoarang said smugly, a look of satisfaction settling across his face. "Now who's the one that's jealous?" He laughed again as Xiaoyu began to sputter in protest. "So, you wanna kiss me now, or wait until after I win?" he grinned, tilting his head towards her.
Little white explosions of fury flashed before Xiaoyu's eyes. "Why you…!" she growled, reaching back and sending another palm flying towards Hwoarang's forehead. To her surprise, he caught her wrist and deftly twisted it downward, drawing her in. He leaned forward, and Xiaoyu stopped struggling as the long fringes of his red hair brushed against her face. "You don't need to be jealous," he murmured. "I like you the way you are." Xiaoyu felt her face go red and stared at Hwoarang with wide eyes. He smiled, adding one last word. "Brat."
Xiaoyu blinked, the amusement in Hwoarang's eyes finally registering, and with a grunt and a twist, she freed her palm and managed to smack the Korean across the forehead with her other hand. "Jerk," she swore half-heartedly, noting that her strike had failed to remove the grin plastered across his face.
"Are you done flirting?" rumbled a deep voice disgustedly.
Hwoarang and Xiaoyu whirled to face the speaker, the muscular man crisscrossed with scars. "Keep your pants on, Fury," Hwoarang said carelessly, shrugging off Bryan's stony glare. "You'll get your chance to lose soon." He turned back to Xiaoyu and grinned carelessly. "Get outta the way, Sunshine. This won't take long."
Xiaoyu swallowed, Yoshimitsu's warning coming back to her in full force. "Wait, Hwoarang. Please, I don't want you to fight him. There's just something wrong here!" she hissed. "There's something wrong with him!" she said, gesturing discreetly towards the white-haired man who was now grinning at them.
Hwoarang cracked his knuckles together and swivelled his shoulders, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I'm not gonna forfeit this tournament just 'cause you have a bad feeling," he said curtly. "Now get back." He gave Xiaoyu a none-too-gentle shove, and she stumbled backwards, yelping in surprise as her foot came into contact with one of the sickly green flames. It didn't burn like fire, but chilled her to the bone, and she quickly jumped away. She groaned in horror as she realized she had landed on yet another grave, and tried to settle herself comfortably amid the stones. "Sorry," she mumbled apologetically to the grave markers around her.
"So, boy. You're ready to fight?" Bryan asked, his lips curling into a grin. His hair was a shock of white, and his skin had an unhealthy pallor that was only accented by the dark tattoo on his neck and his snakeskin pants. Scars and bullet wounds stood out on his chest like sickly badges of honour, and his clear blue eyes were cold and calculating. Xiaoyu couldn't repress the shudder than ran down her spine at the sight of the huge man, and she wondered privately how Hwoarang could be so dense.
"I'm always ready to fight," Hwoarang answered with a lazy grin, taking up his stance and bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Wonder if you're ready to lose," he laughed.
"Why keep you waiting, then?" Bryan answered, the smile never leaving his face. "Come on," he said, raising his knee in a mocking half-kick.
"I like your style," Hwoarang answered with a sharp grin, and then gracefully spun around, jumping into a reverse of his stance. He stretched out his long legs and slid forward smoothly, quickly closing the distance between himself and his adversary and lashed out with his right leg. His foot connected against Bryan's chest solidly, and leaping into the air, he twisted around and drove the back of his left heel into the other man's head. There was a loud crack as the blow connected, and Bryan flew backwards, tumbling to the ground from the strike. "I think I'll enjoy beatin' you," Hwoarang finished with a laugh as he landed. He turned around and gave Xiaoyu a careless shrug. "See? No problem," he yelled at her.
A bell chimed overhead, and the announcer's voice broke through the yard. "Fight twenty-five of the fifth King of the Iron Fist Tournament, Bryan Fury versus Hwoarang." The announcement was overridden by the sound of a low chuckle as Bryan rose to his feet and cracked his neck.
"Good shot," he said to Hwoarang, striding forward as if nothing had happened.
"Fight!" said the announcer rather quickly, though it was obvious that the two men were not paying any attention to the usual match conventions.
Hwoarang scowled and cautiously switched back to his original position. His first hit had been a powerful strike; the gravestone where Bryan had landed was split in two from the force of the impact. The large man, however, didn't even appear to be scuffed, continuing his slow but steady advance. Deciding quickly, Hwoarang launched into another furious attack. He leaned backward and pushed Bryan back with a triple strike to the head, chest and shins with his left foot, then with a quick turn, sent his right leg sailing up towards Bryan's head. As he landed, he fell into his flamingo stance and prepared to continue his attacks.
Bryan's face twisted into a feral grin as he reached out, grabbing the Korean's bent leg and pulling him in roughly. "That almost hurt," he laughed as he leaned back formed a fist with his free hand. Then he raised his arm and smashed the fist over Hwoarang's head brutally before finally releasing his tight grip on the redhead's leg and shoving him away.
"Look out!" Xiaoyu squeaked, covering her eyes as Hwoarang lurched backwards and tried to regain his balance. It was too late, as Bryan had already advanced on him, laughter rumbling out of his throat. He grabbed onto Hwoarang's arm and held him down as his knee smashed upwards. With brutally efficient snake-like grace, Bryan twisted around and kicked the redhead up into the air. Another rapid punch to his airborne opponent's stomach ensured that Hwoarang met the ground with unforgiving speed.
"What, no more fancy words?" Bryan laughed, standing over Hwoarang, who pushed himself up and shook his head swiftly, trying to clear his vision.
"God damn it!" Hwoarang swore, springing to his feet and leaping at the older man who was still laughing. "Shut the hell up!" he growled, lifting his knee for a kick. Bryan ducked back, and Hwoarang threw himself forward, plastering a hard right hook across the other man's cheek in an unexpected sucker punch.
Bryan pitched backwards, then lifted a hand to his jaw and rubbed it. A slow, lazy smile stretched across his face. "Nice," he laughed, raising his hand and making a rude gesture at the Korean.
"Tryin' to insult me?" Hwoarang said with a grin, satisfied that he had shaken Bryan's confidence. The grin dropped as Bryan lunged forward mid-taunt and leapt upwards, driving his right knee into Hwoarang's chin. He did it twice more, then spun around and smashed the back of his fist into the redhead's jaw. Smoothly, Bryan reversed his spin and struck Hwoarang on the other side of his head and then clipped him across the jaw with a roundhouse kick. He finished the barrage of strikes with a powerful straight-armed punch to Hwoarang's face, sending the Korean reeling backwards and collapsing to the ground.
"Bryan Fury wins!" blared across the graveyard as the bell sounded.
The white-haired man only crossed his arms and smiled at his fallen opponent, the humour never reaching his cold, hard eyes.
"Hwoarang! Get up!" Xiaoyu yelled, waving her arm frantically at the motionless redhead. "Come on, come on!" she murmured under her breath, letting out a huge sigh of relief as he stirred. She let out a loud cheer as Hwoarang pushed himself up slowly, refusing to forfeit the match. He swiped a hand at his face and his palm came away red, but he still managed to struggle to his feet. She sucked in her breath as Bryan spoke, the mocking smile dropping away from his face.
"Too bad. You should've stayed down."
Hwoarang took it as a challenge and spat furiously, but Xiaoyu read more in Bryan's hard features. She watched him closely, trying to put her finger on the wrongness she felt. Evil, she decided immediately; that much was easy. But something else, too. She closed her eyes and tried to feel the power swirling around them. Hwoarang's burning fury was easy to sense, it radiated off of his body like fire. But why is Bryan cold? She concentrated, trying to get a grasp on the sensation. Burning coldness licked at the edges of her fingers, and her eyes flew open. A small pocket of green flame had burst up directly under her fingertips, spreading the chill through her body. She drew her hands away quickly and held them to her chest, trying to warm them. "The souls of the dead are upset by this fight," she murmured, blowing on her fingers. She tried not to think how much touching the flame reminded her of touching Miharu's body, devoid of her soul.
"Fight!" came the announcement, and Xiaoyu's eyes shot up. The body is a shell for the soul. The souls of the dead are upset. She fixed her eyes on Bryan in horror, trailing up and down the bullet wounds on his body. They're upset because he has life, but no soul. She suddenly knew it to be true, the real reason behind Bryan's aura of flowing coldness in place of the warm, vital pulse of life. That same coldness was reflected in the hard glint of his eyes.
"He's not human!" Xiaoyu yelled, leaping to her feet.
"What?" Hwoarang said, backing away from Bryan and glancing at Xiaoyu.
"It's not a fair match! I don't think you can hurt him!" she cried out, clenching her fists.
"What the hell are you on?" Hwoarang shouted, glancing back at Bryan, who had stopped his slow advance in light of Xiaoyu's interruption.
I don't care if life is unfair, I'll make it fair! Xiaoyu thought angrily. "I'm going to help you!" she shouted to Hwoarang, picking her way through the gravestones.
Hwoarang's eyes bulged, and he turned around and waved an arm out at Xiaoyu. "God damn it, Xiaoyu, stay outta this!" he yelled at her. Then the breath left him in a rush as Bryan rushed forward and drove his fist into Hwoarang's stomach.
"She's right, you know," the large man noted gleefully. "Let me show you what this cybernetic body can do." His began to punch Hwoarang methodically, his arms gaining incredible speed each time and powering his blows with an inhuman strength. Finally, with a wild laugh, he stopped the flurry of strikes and delivered a savage uppercut to Hwoarang's chin, finishing the combination with a strong right punch to the Korean's head, knocking him to the ground. "I am the ultimate fighting machine, and when I win this tournament, I will become the most powerful being in existence!"
Xiaoyu speeded up her approach, preparing to launch herself into a flying kick at Bryan. She was stopped short by Hwoarang's angry yell as he rose to his knees, coughing and spitting.
"This is MY fight!" he roared, staggering to his feet. "You fucking stay out of it!" He spun around and lifted his leg for what appeared to be a high strike to Bryan's head. The large man raised his arms to block automatically, but as Hwoarang fell, he tucked his knee in and brought his heel down low, rapidly sweeping his foot towards the other man's ankles to try and knock him off of his feet. It almost worked, as Bryan staggered backwards, but he regained his balance quickly.
"You don't give up," Bryan noted angrily, his face settling into a cruel sneer as he arched back and brought his knee up towards Hwoarang's head. The redhead managed to back off before the knee could connect, but Bryan snapped his raised leg out, catching Hwoarang by surprise. "But you're not the only one who can fight dirty," he grinned as he caught Hwoarang's long hair and shoved his knee into the Korean's face. His merciless pummelling continued with a vicious pair of uppercuts, a quick left hook that would have put Steve to shame, and a few more powerful crunching kicks to Hwoarang's side. The last blow sent the redhead flying to the ground once more, and Bryan laughed and looked up, raising his knee in a fake kick and gesturing for Xiaoyu to come forward. "You want some too, sweetness?" he said mockingly as she looked on in horror.
"Fucking… bastard…" Hwoarang groaned as he tried to lift himself off the ground. His face was streaming with blood, and despite his efforts, his arms gave out and he crashed back to the ground. The bell chimed, and vaguely the sound of the announcer registered.
"Bryan Fury wins."
It seemed almost incidental to Xiaoyu, unimportant compared to the immediate danger of having Bryan Fury stare her down. She raised her hands very slowly, filled with dread and apprehension. "Are you going to attack me too?" she asked nervously.
Bryan looked her up and down, and then smirked. "When it's your turn," he rumbled, and turned to leave. Passing by Hwoarang's fallen body, he paused and smiled. Then he drew his heavily booted foot back and planted it squarely into Hwoarang's side, causing the young man to double over in pain. "Stay out of my way, punk," he growled, and stalked out of the graveyard.
Xiaoyu watched Bryan retreat, afraid to move, to even breath, until he was beyond the gate. Then with a gasp, she ran over to Hwoarang, who lay groaning on the ground. "Oh no," she moaned as she carefully turned him over and rested his head across her knees. One eye was already red and swollen and blood flowed freely from both his nose and mouth. There was already too much blood smeared across his face to see the extent of the damage that Bryan's brutal attack had left. Cautiously, Xiaoyu began to dab at his face, trying to gently scrub some of the mess away from his cheeks. "Hey," she said softly, surprised to find tears forming in her eyes. "Hey, wake up. Come on, please come back. I can't get you out of here alone." She nearly shouted with relief when Hwoarang stirred again, moaning and coughing, and quickly she brushed his matted hair away from his injured face. Did I look this bad when Julia picked me up? she wondered, suddenly gaining a newfound respect for the older girl. Probably not… at least Feng Wei didn't try to rearrange my face. "Can you talk?" she asked nervously, swallowing.
A string of explosive expletives that she had never heard before answered the question and brought a flush to her cheeks. When he was done, Hwoarang opened his good eye and glared up. The angry stare switched to brief surprise, then resignation as he lowered his eyelids again and groaned. "I guess there are worse fucking things to wake up to than your face," he muttered hoarsely.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Xiaoyu said sharply. She felt bad when Hwoarang winced at her loud tone, but it passed quickly as he let out a low chuckle.
"Least I can still get a rise outta you," he laughed, before wincing painfully at the attempt to display humour. Then he opened his eye again and stared at Xiaoyu. "Stupid girl," Hwoarang coughed, turning his head and spitting out some blood. "Why the fuck did you do that?"
Xiaoyu smiled and shifted her position, gently helping Hwoarang sit up and allowing him to lean against her. It was strange, realizing that the tall, muscular redhead was so weak that he actually needed her tiny frame for support. It seemed unnatural, unfair, almost, to rob the arrogant Korean of his pride, and she blinked away her tears and carefully avoided looking at his mangled face. "I couldn't leave you there alone," she said haltingly, studying Hwoarang's calloused hand. "He wo—" Remembering the redhead's damaged pride, she chose her words carefully. "— He might have killed you."
"Huh," Hwoarang said, wincing as he coughed again. "And you would've cared?" he said wryly, catching her slip.
"Of course I would have cared!" Xiaoyu answered angrily, then blushed and apologized as Hwoarang grunted with pain at her sudden motion. "I don't want to lose another friend," she continued. "We are friends, aren't we?" she added in a small voice, her eyes flicking to Hwoarang's face uncertainly.
"You distracted me and I lost the goddamned match. Shit, I should be really angry at you right now." Hwoarang's glare faded into painful grimace as he tried to stretch his split lip into a lopsided grin. "Looks like you owe me again. This time I'll take my payment right now." Then, without warning, he leaned over, and before Xiaoyu could protest, his lips were pressing onto hers for a rough kiss.
Xiaoyu felt a wave of surprise; she could remember Miharu teasing her when they were in high school together. "You're saving your first kiss for Jin? You know you might be waiting a really long time…" The sting of disappointment that her first kiss hadn't gone according to plan wasn't quite as harsh as she expected it to be. Warmth flushed through her body, and Xiaoyu parted her lips slightly and returned the kiss without thinking. The pleasant, warm haze faded as a sharp, coppery tang entered her mouth, and carefully, she pulled away from Hwoarang and touched her lips. Her fingers came away stained red, and she studied their wet gleam with a faint sense of resignation.
My first kiss tastes like blood.
Somehow, she wasn't surprised, and that knowledge filled her with sadness. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, turning her face away from Hwoarang, who was looking at her questioningly. "We should get you to the hospital," she added, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and struggling to her feet. Together, they began to limp towards the gateposts marking the paved entrance to the graveyard, which was thankfully a much less tumultuous route than the one Xiaoyu had arrived by. An uncomfortable silence settled between the two, and after a moment, Xiaoyu felt Hwoarang's eyes on the top of her head. "What is it?" she asked, looking up. She saw that his eyes were fixed on her feather necklace, and looked down guiltily.
"I'm still gonna to beat him, you know," Hwoarang said after a moment.
Xiaoyu lowered her eyes and glared at the ground passing underneath their feet. "What is wrong with you?" she asked angrily. "What is it with everyone here? Why does it always have to be about fighting?" she exclaimed.
"In case you didn't notice, Sunshine, you're in the middle of a fighting tournament," Hwoarang said, wincing as his attempted chuckles soon turned into dry, hacking coughs. Regaining his breath, he scowled, looking unusually serious. "That's the reason everyone comes. In the end, we all wanna be top dog."
Xiaoyu's frown deepened and she answered with a note of anger. "That's not everyone's reason for being here!" She sighed, the frown melting away from her face, and looked at Hwoarang. "Haven't you noticed it by now? There are two types of people in the tournament." She stopped as Hwoarang tripped on a larger stone, and they both took a moment to regain their balance. "There are people who come full of bitterness, looking for nothing but death, like that guy you just fought. And then there are people who come to the tournaments looking for something else, people like me," she explained. "There's more to life than just proving that you can be the 'top dog' you know."
Hwoarang raised an eyebrow, regarding Xiaoyu with weary bemusement. "I'm not lookin' to get myself killed. But I wanted to win this tournament. So where exactly do I fit in this little diagram of yours?"
Xiaoyu smiled at Hwoarang brightly. "You're like me, of course. You're doing this for someone else. Alright, I admit it, maybe you're a little too pig-headed to see more than this stupid rivalry you have with Jin. But you don't really want to kill him, do you?" She waited, her smile widening as Hwoarang coughed and refused to answer her. "See? I don't think you really care about winning the tournament as much as you care about seeing Jin again. We're the same."
"Hell no!" Hwoarang protested with a rough laugh. "I haven't spent the last two years of my life chasin' after Jin like some gay groupie." He winced and groaned as Xiaoyu pelted him in the side. "Take it easy!" he growled with annoyance, regaining his footing.
"That's not what I meant," Xiaoyu answered sharply. Then, a grin crossed her face. "Though the thought had crossed my mind," she admitted with a giggle.
Hwoarang swore loudly. "Holy shit! Am I going to have to kiss you again to prove my manhood?" he said incredulously. He grew quiet as Xiaoyu's soft laughter died out. "Damn," he admitted in defeat after a moment. "That pretty rich boy might be a lotta things, but at least he knows how to fight man to man. You know, with honour and all the rest of that crap." He gestured futilely at the air. "He doesn't deserve this devil shit."
"You mean you respect him," Xiaoyu said. "And you want to help him find a cure, too."
Hwoarang clenched his teeth and looked away, obviously struggling with his already battered pride. "There aren't a lotta people who really understand me," he finally forced out. "Baek does. So does that bastard Jin, in his own damn way." He sighed heavily. "I owe it to him."
Xiaoyu looked at the ground, filled with a mixture of nervous happiness. She was pleased that she had managed to worm her way past the tough Korean's aggressive posturing and hear him speak comfortably. She was still nervous, however, as she processed what he had finally admitted, or more correctly, omitted from his statement. "…And what about me?" she asked quietly. "Do I count as one of those people?" She blinked, surprised at herself that she had even asked. Why is this so important to me?
Silence settled around them, the noise of their feet dragging over the gravel path filling the air. Finally, when it was stretched so thin that Xiaoyu was certain her nerves would snap, Hwoarang answered her.
"You don't know me," he finally said.
Xiaoyu exhaled loudly as a heavy feeling of disappointment settled around her chest.
"… but I guess you understand a few things," he admitted haltingly.
The disappointment vanished as quickly as it came. "Things like what?" Xiaoyu needled eagerly, unable to stop the smile from blooming over her face.
Hwoarang grimaced and focused on the road. "Did you really hate riding my bike that much?" he said cryptically.
"You drive like a madman! Of course I hated it!" Xiaoyu replied quickly, thrown off by his question. The silence that followed made her realize that it was the wrong answer. She closed her eyes, seeing the mental puzzle again. This time, she examined the piece that Hwoarang had given her more carefully.
Why does he drive like that? Why does he even have a motorcycle? What is it he was trying to show me? She remembered their first trip together, the wind whipping past her ears, the sound of cars flying by, and her absolute terror of the loss of control. Then, to her surprise, she remembered Yoshimitsu's laughter, echoing around her as they sped down the elevator shaft; it was much the same feeling. It's not about losing control, she realized after a moment. And it's not just about scaring me. She thought harder, trying to understand the message hidden in her memory. The exhilaration. The risk. The adrenaline high. She thought of her match with Steve, of the eager joy with which she had thrown herself into the fight. I felt alive; I touched the part of me that Miharu said she'd never understand. She cracked an eye open and looked at Hwoarang, whose jaw was clenched in frustration.
"I'm sorry," Xiaoyu said quietly. "I didn't think about it before I answered you. You do it for the rush, don't you?" She smiled slightly as Hwoarang's scowl faded. "A good fight makes me feel alive, like I can be something more than just the ordinary schoolgirl Ling Xiaoyu. That's why you like your bike, right? You want to be more than just Hwoarang."
The redhead grinned at her. "You do understand," he said after a moment. "I knew you had it in you, Sunshine." His smile faded. "I knew you understood when I saw you at Vision," he added.
"What?" Xiaoyu sputtered, her eyes widening as she stared at Hwoarang. The memory of the first tournament fight she had seen was hazy now, distant, as though it had passed in another lifetime, not just six short days ago. "You mean that wasn't an accident at the club?" she pressed.
"Yeah, I saw you jump onto that van. I thought you were one fuckin' crazy girl," Hwoarang said with a wry smirk. "Hidin' your guts behind all that pink fluff and sugar. I figured Jin was gonna take care of you, but I figured wrong. Good thing I caught you in time." He grinned as Xiaoyu scowled at him in embarrassment. "Normal people don't try to kill themselves with stunts like that. You aren't normal, though." He looked away from her. "You wanna fly too," he said quietly. "You're just scared to say it out loud."
"Yeah, well maybe I'm just not sure I want to fly on a motorcycle," Xiaoyu answered cheekily, shrugging off Hwoarang's laughter. Still, she felt a cloaked in a strange sense of satisfaction as they continued their walk back to civilization in companionable silence.
AN: This chapter took a long time to write. I spent a lot of time playing Bryan and Hwoarang, trying to figure out how to give them an impressive duel. I hope it worked. I also hope I still have a couple of non-Hwoarang fans after this chapter. Eh, figuring in that Hwoarang also lost, I actually hope I still have the Hwoarang fans too! - huge sweatdrop - To answer a question, the reason Jin didn't show up for his match with Hwoarang was because, well, Devil Jin had just spent a busy evening almost killing Miharu, so he wasn't really "unpossessed" in time for his match. Sorry if that wasn't obvious! Leave a review, lemmie know what you think!