Chapter 4: Confusion.

"Hey, Xiao, guess what?"

I'm standing in the hallway at school, and turn around with a smile as Hwoarang walks over to me, holding a white envelope in his hand. I recognise it instantly.

"Got this yesterday." He smirks, waving it in front of my face. "Guess someone saw my potential, huh? All this time you've been saying you could kick my ass, babe, and look who Mishima picks to enter the tournament!" He's milking the moment for all its worth, as is the norm with Hwoarang. Not the most graceful guy when he thinks he's got one over on you.

"Do you know what this is, dear Xiao?"

I shrug, putting on a bored expression,

"It seems to be an envelope, dear Hwoarang."

He smiles at my little jab, slipping the letter out and unfolding it.

"This is my golden ticket, Xiao."

"Golden?" I echo. "It looks white."

Hwoarang narrows his eyes, but I can tell he's not really angry. We tease each other all the time, always have.

"Metaphorical golden ticket."

"Huh. Like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, in a way." I muse, loving the fact that he's starting to get irritated with me.

"You're just jealous." he mutters.

"Hmm, maybe." A smug grin spreads across his face at my admission, and I don't allow my lips to curve into the smile I'm dying to crack.

"Hwo, you know your 'golden ticket'?" I ask lightly.

"Mmm? You wanna read it, huh?"

I ignore his question.

"Does it look like this?"

Starting to rifle through my backpack, I'm aware of Hwoarang's curiosity. I can almost feel it.

"What've you got there?" he asks, annoyance tinging his voice.

"A matching ticket." I finally crack that smile, and Hwoarang's own grin vanishes as his eyes fall on the pristine white envelope bearing the Mishima logo.

"No way." he mutters, scowling.

"I guess someone saw my potential." I tell him with a mischievous smirk, and he rolls his eyes.

"You do realise, I'll totally kick your ass?"

"Yep, that's right, Hwo. Keep telling yourself that."

"You wanna discuss how much I'm gonna kick your ass over a drink after school?"

I sigh. He always goes to some smoky bar full of bikers. I wouldn't mind, but they like to grab my ass.

"You know I'm going home after school, Hwoarang. Grandpa's gonna be there."

"So? I'm hotter than him."

Yeah, Hwoarang's hotter than most. He's a handsome guy, or so the other girls tell me. I've never really noticed. Really!

"Come on." I tell him. "We're gonna be late, Miharu's gonna be wondering where we are."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about her."

"Very charming, hotstuff."

When we finally get to the common room, Miharu's nowhere to be seen. However, there's someone else there who catches my attention. Jin Kazama is sitting near the window, and he was previously staring through the glass at who knows what, but is now looking over at us. Or, rather, me. Hopefully me and not Hwoarang. Please don't tell me he swings that way. He's smiling. And could that smile possibly be directed at me?

I stride over to him, almost as if he ordered me to telepathically, and sit down across from him on a battered old chair.

"So, Mr. Kazama, was that an actual expression just now?"

"Hey." he murmurs lazily, then goes back to his window gazing.

I sit there, fidgeting with the sleeve of my shirt and trying to think of something to say. So far, I'm drawing a blank.

"So, what are you doing?" I finally settle on.

He keeps his attention on the scene out of the window.

"What's it look like to you?"

Wow, that's a little colder than I expected. I frown, about to open my mouth and say something sarcastic, but I decide to brush it off and try again.

"Well, what were you doing in here before I came along?"

"Exactly what I'm doing now."

Heh. He smiles at me, then completely ignores me. I have to comment again on those astounding social skills of his.

"Well, have fun." I snap, and start to stand up. But before I can storm away, his fingers curl around my wrist, and a pleasant tingle goes through my body. Ignoring the fuzzy feeling settling in my stomach, I scowl at him, trying to yank my arm out of his grip. He tightens his hold on me, a slow smile playing on his lips.

"You lose your temper so easily, Xiaoyu." he murmurs, looking straight into my eyes. If you could write my expression right about now, it would be a row of exclamation marks.

His gaze is hypnotising, and I feel my whole body tense up at the look on his face. I've never seen such a sexy smile in my life.

"I'm sorry." he says finally, "I didn't mean to make you lose your temper. I'm just not really used to talking all that much."

"Huh. I'd never have guessed." I try to say in an annoyed voice, but someone has obviously replaced Ling Xiaoyu with Random Lovestruck Teenager, and I end up sounding more breathless than irritated. There's pins and needles running up and down my body. What's he trying to do to me here?

"And anyway, I didn't lose my temper!" I add huffily.

"Right." he says, voice laced with amusement. "If you say so."

I bite my lower lip, trying to tear my gaze from his, but it's as though he's got some kind of hold over my rational mind, and I can't stop looking at him. Those eyes. That perfect mouth.

"What is it?" Jin asks, and I'm conscious of the fact that he's still got a hold of me. But his grip has relaxed; rather than restraining me, he's running a finger over the bare skin of my wrist. I'm left alternating between shivers (I guess the underside of my wrist is an erogenous zone. Who knew?) and wondering why I haven't broken free of his grasp. I didn't talk to him over the weekend, and I've known him approximately four days, counting the weekend, so why am I allowing him to cast his evil sexy guy spell on me?

"Hey, Xiao, you coming?"

Miharu's voice reaches me from the door, and the spell is broken as quickly as it was cast.

I pull my hand from Jin's grip and try to scowl, even though I'm still all tingly and fuzzy, and my mind's whirling, and my stomach's doing somersaults, and my heart's pounding. Stop it, Xiao.

"Come on, Xiao, we'll be late!" Hwoarang tells me, looking vaguely irritated.

"Coming." I manage, and walk away, having to almost physically force myself not to glance back in Jin's direction.

I don't think anything's ever made me feel like that before. Except maybe praline chocolate.