So, as I decided after the incident-that-I-don't-wish-to-talk-about-or even think about-because-I-didn't-enjoy-it-one-bit-honest, I've thrown myself head first into my training for the tournament. Grandfather's been helping me out with that, and I don't know whether to be pleased or petrified. He came over to visit a few days ago and spent about fifteen minutes watching me throw punches and kicks out in the yard, and shaking his head in distaste, clicking his tongue every now and again to let me know he wasn't impressed with me. Eventually I stamped my foot and demanded to know 'exactly what it was he wanted, goddammit'. To which he didn't reply, but simply walked over to me, took up a stance, and beckoned.
Now, Xiao loves a challenge, but not when it's against her Grandfather whose fighting ability is much, much better than hers. I tried, honestly I did. But my punches just weren't connecting, and the less said about my lame excuse for the Phoenix Stance, the better. I couldn't concentrate, and I'm sure you have a vague idea why. So, what did Grandfather do, you ask? Why, he kicked my ass, of course. And them he kicked my ass again. And you know what? I think he's gonna keep kicking my ass until I get my flair back. Now he knows I'm dead set on entering the tournament, he's been working me harder and harder. There's training every night before dinner, every morning before school, and all day on Saturday. I used to hate Sundays with a burning firey passion, due the the fact that they were so bloody boring, but now I look forward to them, as it means I can soak in a lovely calendula bubble bath and nurse my aching joints. And pride. Thanks to the training thing, my social life is pretty much nonexistent at the moment. But, you know, I must admit, getting my ass kicked repeatedly has helped me focus more on my technique, and kept my mind off He Who Shall Not Be Named.
But enough about that. Back to today. Well, what's left of it. It's my free period, and at present, I'm resting my chin on my fist, listening to Miharu talk about how much maths sucks, and nibbling on a chocolate bar. Hey, if I'm gonna be burning millions of calories training, I may as well get my daily dose of chocolatey goodness, eh? Hwoarang, who's been buying various snacks from the vending machine, wanders over, collapsing into the chair beside me and resting his head on the table with an exaggerated sigh.
"Something wrong?" I ask, amused. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye and shakes his head, dismissing my question with a wave of his hand.
"Hwo? You alright?" Miharu asks, concerned, and he raises his head a little.
"Tired."
"Who's been keeping you up all night, I wonder?" Mi asks with a smirk.
"Baek."
Me and Miharu exchange a glance, and I open my mouth to offer my opinion on this little confession, but Hwoarang's look of indignation shuts me up.
"Training, idiot!"
"Riiiight." Miharu grins. "We believe you."
"How about you, Xiao?" Hwoarang asks, ignoring Mi's teasing. "Been training with the old guy again?"
"Yep." I nod. "And, I got my ass kicked once today, rather than three times, as per usual. I'd say that's quite an improvement, wouldn't you?"
"You're doing great, Xiao." Miharu says supportively. She came round this morning to see me, and ended up sitting on the wall for half an hour, watching me attempt to spar with Grandfather, most likely bored out of her mind. "You'll be in the finals."
"Thanks, Mi-Mi." I smile weakly. "But I doubt that."
"You shouldn't." Hwoarang tells me, sitting up and stretching in the chair luxuriously. "How're you gonna win with that attitude?"
One of his arms slips around my shoulders, but for once, I don't push him off. To be honest, I don't have the energy.
"Let's make a deal, Xiao." Hwoarang grins. I raise a wary eyebrow.
"What kind of a deal?"
"Come tournament-time, we play to win."
"We what?"
He rolls his eyes, then looks deep into mine, speaking to me as if I were a small child.
"We. Play. To. Win."
I give him a doubtful look and he holds his hand out.
"Come on. Let's shake on it. We're not just gonna do our best, Xiao. We're gonna do better than everyone else there."
His optimism is infectious, and before I know it I'm smiling, and slipping my hand into his. We shake, and then he slides his chair back, standing up.
"Okay. We play to win." I say with a nod.
"Damned right."
And for the first time since Grandfather kicked my ass, I'm looking forward to the tournament. That's the best thing about having a friend like Hwo. He may be a perverted idiot, but he always manages to force a good mood and a smile out of me in the end, and sometimes I think I could really love him, and not just in a platonic way. But then he does something really stupid to piss me off, and I realise what a ridiculous notion that is. For example:
"And if we have to fight each other, how 'bout the winner gets a kiss from the loser?"
"Hwoarang..." I mutter warningly.
"Hey," he says with a nasty smirk. "If Kazama can get a kiss, then why not me?"
All the colour drains from my face.
"Y-you...s-saw?" I stutter, eyes wide. It doesn't register that I could have easily denied it and Mi would have believed me over him.
He looks so infuriatingly satisfied.
"I saw ya, you little hussy." he jokes. But his words make my face grow hot, and I remember how I pressed against Jin's body, how I clung to him, desperate to prolong the feeling of his lips against mine. I'm jolted back to reality by Miharu's voice as she asks Hworang what on earth he's talking about.
"Last week, in the corridor." Hwoarang tells her, smirk still in place. "I was having a cig out in the courtyard, and I saw 'em through the window."
I could kick myself. Really, really hard. But rather than do that, I instead settle on making a mental note never to lose my resolve when there's windows nearby.
"Xiao..." Miharu looks decidedly hurt, and I shake my head, standing up and going over to the other side of the table to sit next to her.
"Mi, I...it's nothing!" I assure her. "He was being a jerk, and I just..." Miharu's shaking her head, a small smile on her lips.
"Xiao, it's fine. I mean, he's cute and all, but hey, it's not like I'm all squealy teenager over him!"
"But it really is nothing!" I protest.
"Well maybe it's nothing to you," she says conspiratorially, lowering her voice. "But he walked in about fifteen minutes ago, and he's been checking you out ever since."
I stiffen, turning my head just as Miharu hisses "Don't look over!", and sure enough, there is He Who Shall Not Be Named Or Thought Of, lounging on one of the comfy chairs by the radiator, and thankfully, not looking at me, but staring out of the window.
"He has not." I tell Mi, who just smirks.
"Has."
"Has not."
"Has."
Before I can protest any further, the bell rings, and while Miharu and Hwo are both bitches and have another free, I have Lit, which should be most riveting.
"Well, babes, I'm off." I inform Miharu. She smiles.
"We'll finish our argument later."
"Okay."
Hwoarang waves lazily, and I scowl at him, still angry over the whole him-seeing-me-and-Jin thing.
"Bye, darling." he drawls.
I stalk out of the common room, ignoring him. Damn Hwoarang and his cigarette breaks. Damn them to the deepest regions of Hell. I don't make it very far down the corridor before a certain someone calls my name. My mind's screaming at me to ignore him and maintain at least a little bit of dignity, but I'm stupid and enjoy his company, no matter how much of a jerk he is. But you didn't hear that from me.
"What do you want?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Nice to see you, too." he mutters.
"Well, it isn't nice to see you." I snap, even as I take in his gorgeous messy hair and dark eyes. My eyes decide to focus on his mouth and stay there, and I tear them away, trying to look him in the eye without going all weak-kneed and teenagery.
"You dropped this when you ran off the other day." Jin says, face blank. He hands over my Wakka keyring, and I take it, ignoring the tingle I get when my fingers brush his.
"Thanks." I shove Wakka in my pocket and back away, with every intention of making a dignified exit, but there's a wall in my way. My back bumps against the plasterboard, and I jump. Jin has this amused look on his face, and I try my best to glare at him, but it must have looked more like a grimace, because Jin moves closer to me, arching a brow.
"You okay?"
"Fine." I manage, looking anywhere but at him. "I've just been...uh, training, and I'm a little sore."
"I know the feeling." Jin says, the barest hint of sympathy in his voice, and for a moment, I'm stunned. Could it be that we're having an actual conversation here?
"You looking forward to the tournament?" I babble, trying to prolong the civilized convo thing.
"I suppose. You?"
"I guess."
Jin looks a little awkward, and I take that as my cue to leave. But before I can get a good distance away from him, he calls my name again.
"About the other day..." he starts, "I only kissed you so you'd shut up."
He's trying to piss me off, I know it. But this time, I don't rise to the bait.
"Good for you." I tell him. He looks faintly surprised, and I smirk inwardly. Ha. One point to Xiao. I'm getting better every day.
"I'm..." he trails off, and I walk back up to him, curious.
"You're...?"
"I'm sorry if I...um, y'know...made you uncomfortable."
I grin. "No more than usual, Jin."
He blinks.
"I was joking." I tell him quickly. "It's okay. I guess when you're as cute as me, you have to endure stuff like that every now and again."
This time, he smiles. And it's such a nice smile, that I forget that I'm supposed to be playing the aloof ice princess card for a while, and smile back.
A/N: And it only took me six months to update. ^^;; Reviewers, I love ya. Glad you're enjoying the fic, and sorry for being a git and taking half a year to write a new chapter. Um, tell me what you thought? There must be some of you still out there! Please excuse any typos, Word hates me so I'm using my html editor.