Stop press! A semi-quick update from the Madame! I'm really happy that you guys are still reading this, thank you so much for your wonderful reviews. Reading them never fails to make me smile. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, in which the Iron Fist Tournament's finally getting underway. I bet you thought I'd never get there. :)

Chapter 25: Round One

You know, I decided last night that I'd get up early and go down to the gym to practise for a couple of hours before my battle. I figured that honing my skills and warming myself up before the fight would be the best way to spend the morning. It's a shame, then, that I end up sleeping through my alarm and waking up at quarter past eleven. My fight is at twelve. Things aren't looking promising, really.

I spring out of bed like a Jack-in-a-Box, heading straight for the shower while muttering various obscenities that I'd usually never dream of saying, but that seem the only words fit for the situation. In my desperate rush, I manage to break my speed-showering record and spend no longer than six and a half minutes in there, leaping out and clumsily towelling myself dry, then practically wrenching the handle off the wardrobe door in my haste to get my clothes out and on. I'd been hoping to wear my red uniform – Grandfather bought it especially for me to wear in the tournament, but the obi's too fiddly and I can't find my slippers to go with it, so instead I pull on my training outfit: blue long sleeved silk top and black tights. I hurriedly scrape my wet hair into pigtails. They're probably uneven and my parting's terrible, but I really, really don't have time to worry about that. It's almost half past, and I haven't had any breakfast yet. I stumble over my shoelaces as I race down the sunlit hallway to the stairs, and almost slam into Hwoarang, who's on his way up.

"Hey, where've you been?" he asks, raising a brow. He's in his own training outfit, face flushed from exercise, hair damp.

"Asleep!" I screech at him, grabbing him by the shirt and baring my teeth. "Why didn't you come and get me?"

He blinks, pulling away from my grip and shooting me a bemused look.

"Uh, I figured you'd be training yourself."

"Did you see me in the gym?" I shriek, pushing past him and starting back down the stairs. He follows me.

"I didn't go in the gym." He replies defensively. "It was packed. I saw King though."

"Did he look confident?"

"Couldn't tell. He was wearing that mask thing."

"God!" I cry, putting my hands to my face. "You stupid, lazy, idle, idiotic, stupid, brainless dumbass!"

"Hey, how was I supposed to – ?"

"Not you!" I snap. "I was talking to myself!"

"One of the first signs of insanity…"

"Shut up!"

"Just sayin'…"

By now we're both in the lobby, and I head for the café. This time, Hwo doesn't follow me.

"They're closed 'til one." He calls after me.

"You're lucky I'm saving my energy for the match." I say through my teeth. "Otherwise I'd put you in the infirmary."

"Hey, it's not my fault!" he chuckles, and I decide to be the bigger person and walk away. Or rather, storm away. I've been doing that a lot, these days.

It's two minutes to twelve, and I'm standing a few feet away from King, listening to Heihachi as he explains the rules. King is about six hundred feet taller than me, and three hundred feet wider. He's standing there with his arms folded, and even with the mask on, I know he's one hundred percent sure of himself. It's in the way he's standing, the way he holds himself. I've got visions of hitting him as hard as I can and barely even drawing a second glance from him. Did I mention things really aren't going well today? I'm kinda glad I didn't have chance to get something to eat, because I'm so nervous I feel like I'm going to throw up. It's the same type of feeling as I got when I went for my first job interview in the summer holidays, though I doubt the interviewer would have done a clothesline on me. Saying that, she was quite a brawny looking woman…

The temple clock chimes twelve, and King steps forward, throwing a short punch with his right hand then bringing his left one down with a growl. I note how his size seems to slow him down, though I can't be sure whether he was just being lazy, and bow low before settling into my fighting stance. It's been a long time coming, but my first battle has finally begun.

King makes the first move, a punch that I palm swiftly away, cartwheeling to the side just in time to avoid a counter kick. I don't even have time to throw in a counter move of my own before King's on the offensive again with a flurry of sliding kicks to my ankles, and even though I do my best to avoid them, the last one catches me hard and almost overbalances me. Seeing his chance, he grabs my arm and tries to throw me, but even through my surprise, I have the presence of mind to twist out of his grip, pushing him roughly away and turning my back to him. He's obviously not studied my techniques, or maybe he just thinks the momentum of my escape from his throw forced me to face away, because he advances on me. I wait one second, two, and then kick outward and upward, sending King flying into the air with a growl of pain. My philosophy is 'hit when you can', so I don't even wait for him to land before I follow up my attack with a solid kick that earns me another growl, and two quick punches as he falls.

I land another kick to his stomach as he lays prone on the ground, and he rolls sideways before scrambling to his feet and backflipping in an arc over me. Like a fool, I stare up, thinking he's got some intricate attack up his sleeve. He doesn't. Instead, he lands heavily on top of me, knocking us both to the ground and crushing me underneath him, forcing the breath out of me. I take huge gulps of air as King gets to his feet, and I know he's planning to kick me while I'm vulnerable. I wait for his foot to lash out, then roll out of his reach, sliding up into the Phoenix Stance and waiting for him to come forward. He does, hesitantly, and as he moves to attack again, I bring my arms up in front of me in the Wave Crest move my Grandfather made me practice over and over just weeks ago, saying that I wasn't putting enough power behind it. It connects, knocking him onto his back, but it seems that my Grandfather was right. King recovers much more quickly than I'd expected, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward. He grabs the back of my head with his huge hand and slams my face into his knee – and then simply lets go of me. I fall backwards, hitting the ground with an audible 'thud', dazed and lying on the concrete like a broken doll. I can hear the roar of the crowd as I stare up at the vast blue of the sky, and King's heavy footsteps. He's no doubt preparing to finish me off.

I won't let him.

His arms come down to pull me to my feet, and I allow myself to be lifted up, let him think he's won. I draw my knees up as he manoeuvres me into the position he probably needs me in for his finishing move, and then wait for just the right moment, just the right time. His grip on me loosens for a split second, and that's all the time I need. I plant both feet firmly on his stomach and kick, propelling myself out of his grasp and into the air, and knocking him backwards. As he falls, I perform a somersault to turn myself around and land neatly a fair distance away from him. He's not done, but I can see that my attacks have taken their toll as he struggles to his feet. I run at him, leaping into a flying kick that hits him square in the face. King lands heavily on the ground – and makes no move to get up. There's a hush from the crowd for several agonizing moments. Finally, somewhere behind me, there's the sound of a bell. It's over.

I stand, dazed, as a crescendo of noise washes over me. The sound of the crowd rings through my ears, and my legs begin to grow shaky as the adrenaline wears off. I look around, trying to spot someone I know, to see a reassuring face. There's Anna Williams, the girl from yesterday. She folds her arms and smirks at me, and behind her I can see two others from the tournament: the girl with the braided hair and feather headdress, and a Chinese man with his hair fastened in a ponytail who flashes me a congratulatory smile. With this, it starts to dawn on me that I've won. I'm through to the next round. I can let my guard down now. I turn back to King, who's struggling to sit up, and bow to him once more. It was a good match.

A hand touches my shoulder, and I turn to see Hwoarang smiling broadly, his genuine happiness and pride at witnessing my win enough to bring tears to my eyes. He hugs me tightly.

"I knew you'd do it."

"That makes two of us." I say, flashing him a cocky grin. He laughs, ruffles my hair affectionately.

There's no sign of Jin.