Summary: Julia is teh roxorz. Pretty much all I have to say.
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Julia Chang sighed. She really couldn't find anything wrong with the early fall day. The sun was shining brightly, but it wasn't too hot. All of her favorite flowers were in the peak of blooming. She had managed to make the Forest Rejuvenation data work for her. In fact, the large glass and metal cylinder was the first of many new plants she would help transplant into the reservation. She held it tighter, as if to hug it.
She loved the environment. Places were it was quiet and one could really appreciate all of the natural beauty around them were few and far apart. The site in Korea, where she was walking, was one of many she hoped to recolonize and save.
She knelt down in the tall grass. It was unmowed and smelled fresh and sweet. She smiled at the little sprout. Today she would say goodbye to it, and her dreams would finally start becoming a reality.
She heard a twig snap. It wasn't very close to her, but she was supposed to be the only one there. Through the small shrubs, she saw a red-headed man, training.
His entire frame seemed to stand still apart from his raised leg, which flexed and relaxed so rapidly, it looked like he was slapping an imaginary person in the face with his foot.
He spun around, sweeping his leg low.
She was watching someone practice their kata (1). A very disciplined martial artist, from the looks of it. Some of the kicks he did required such great balance, Julia doubted she would ever be able to do them.
He suddenly looked at her, but his dark eyes showed no alarm or surprise. Instead, he gave her a cocky grin and said, "Enjoy the show?"
She smiled softly. She knew him vaguely; more correctly, knew of him. Hwoarang, a Korean Tae Kwon Do student. "Um, yeah."
"Julia, right?" He jumped cleanly over the bushes and rolled, stopping beside her.
"Yeah." She cocked her head to the side. "That's right."
"Julia, can I ask you something?" He asked, looking her straight in the eye. He needed an opinion; one fighter to another, and Pocahontas was the only available person he knew from the King of Iron Fist. How convenient.
"Sure, Hwoarang." She crossed her legs indian style, leaning back on her hands, so the twin braids fell over her shoulders. She let the container rest in her lap.
"Do you think... I'm strong?"
She nodded; sort of a stupid question to ask. All of the Iron Fist participants were strong. "Yeah, of course."
"No, I mean. Really strong. Like... stronger than Jin Kazama." He'd been beaten pretty badly at their last fight. Thus the arduous training and his lack of esteem.
"No." She answered honestly; Jin and Ling Xiaoyu were her friends, and she really didnt know of anyone, aside from that bastard Heihachi, who could beat Jin.
"What does he have that I dont?" He muttered, resting his head on her shoulder in defeat.
She stroked his hair soothingly. "Besides a horde of eager groupies, one incestuous cousin, and a really dysfunctional family?"
He found her dry humor amusing; or maybe it was the clever insult to Jin and his family. Either way, it evoked something he thought he didn't have time for right then. A laugh.
"Don't be so hard on yourself. Jin's leading a pretty fucked up life right now." She tried to console him, and atone for poking fun at her friend's distress.
"Are you saying I should pity him, Chang?" His arms curled around her lithe waist loosely; his voice became muffled against her skin.
"Yeah." She chuckled. A lot of people said Hwoarang was an ass; right now, from this view, she was finding him pretty cute. "Maybe you should."
"I'll pity him when he admits defeat." he grunted, knocking the glass case from her lap as he gently pushed her to the ground. "Do you pity me?"
For a moment, she was scared he'd broken it. Then she answered, "Stubborn little thing, aren't you? No. I don't."
"That's a lie." His arms still held her waist close, and one knee parted her legs, so he could snuggle down between.
"Screw you." She didn't have to take that from an affection deprived sore-loser. She made a poor attempt to push him off.
"Now that's what I like to hear." He nuzzled her neck with a little more ferocity, his tongue relishing the goosebumps he evoked as the smooth muscle trailed across the tan flesh.
She melted to him and the ground. A Korean Julia sandwich on grass, extra spicy. "Hwoarang..." She mumbled his name as he nipped at her collar.
"Shut up, Chang." He grunted, hooking two fingers in the back of the army green skirt, and pulling it down viciously. The button popped off the front completely.
"Goddammit, Hwoarang." She replied in a louder voice. "Get off me."
"I told you to shut up." He straddled her waist, sitting up, and yanked the skirt off completely.
"No, Hwoa---" He brought his lips down on hers. His kiss was firm, not rough, and the tongue that parted her lips probed gently, until it found hers.
A strong hand slipped up the curve of her waist, and under her arm, passing the swell of her breast until it reached the back of her neck, to keep himself submerged in the kiss for as long as possible, and make laying on the ground possibly more comfortable. He cut it off when it became a life or death thing to breathe.
"Sorry Julia... I don't know what---" He started to get off her. She wasn't taking any excuses. The sparks had been instant when he tried to get her affection, and his kiss had started a small fire in her. "Get back down here."
"Now that is what I really like to hear."
Julia had a second reason to smile as she planted the small sprout. Someday, it would grow into a big and healthy plant.
But by then... She smiled as Hwaorang pulled on the pants to his uniform. His hand reached the small of her back, sending a toe-curling tingle through her.
She didn't finish that thought. She would take things one special moment at a time.
Author's Note: Um... This was my first Tekken fic... And it's based on Julia's ending in Tekken5. I figured there had to be something else to make her smile like that; plants aren't that fuckin' cool. Leave a review.
