Disclaimer: I don't own any parts of the Tekken franchise. All copyrighted materials belong to the appropriate owners. This is a non-profitable story, written purely for entertainment.

Tekken 5, Aftermath: The Unlikely Hero

.:A Tactless Tales Production:.

Chapter 3

Desperate Calls…

Cool breezes founded by the day's sunset fluttered her brunette locks as she stood in the open vicinity of the corporate building's flat peak. Though man would consider her position high, birds strutting in the same altitude would be unimpressed. Such a quiet environment contradicted the very atmosphere a couple of floors beneath her, where people by the thousands were relentlessly exchanging their monetary assets for a means for self-fulfilment. Some may claim that they were shopping for necessities, others for their children, but either way, anyway, as long as they were on Earth, it would undoubtedly lead back to self-fulfilment.

She hugged herself, wrapping her arms around her yellow, sleeveless sweater, trying to combat the winds that were now becoming a tad too cold. Her inner white t-shirt, blue chequered skirt and matching knee-high socks had failed to prove their worth other than being a mandatory school uniform. She knew that she should have been getting down soon but her addictive taste for high places always prolonged her intended visits. It wasn't always a bad thing however, as she found that the ambiance encouraged her decision making skills for the better.

And so, she was going to do it. One corner of her lips angled up as she asked herself if she even had a choice in the matter. This was going to be as much for her as it was going to be for him. Helping him would be helping herself, hence back to the self-fulfilment realization. More for him though, she tried to convince herself.

When she saw him near the end of the tournament, when she tried to help him out, but only inadvertently triggered her special ability, she knew it was meant to be. It was no longer a matter of coincidence, it was fate.

But that damn Heihachi had ceased the process before she could fully run its course. And to top it off, he had taken him into his custody, making her purpose that much harder to achieve. Too bad for the old grump; she wasn't going to give up, not until the death. Bitter or sweet, she would accomplish her goal.

Suddenly, a harsh burst of wind blew at her, causing her knees to slam together at its chilliness. It was definitely time for her to take her leave. She made her way across the abandoned rooftop, casually sidestepping the few blocks of see-through, glass tiles and various chimney outlets before descending the few steps that led to the shut elevator doors.

She pushed the down-arrow button and awaited its arrival, trapping her frosty breaths as she anxiously watched the steel doors. After seconds, that seemed like hours, of waiting, she frantically pressed the button repeatedly, urging it to 'come on' as if it would respond any quicker.

Finally, it arrived with a chime. The command button lost its red glow and the metallic, double doors parted, slowly welcoming her into their secured home. Unexpectedly, there was somebody already there.

She examined him curiously, wondering what type of person would share her passion for peace and serenity. The tall red-haired man wore a sleeveless orange and green biker's tank-top on his lean but built chest. Several bands with silver jewels were strapped along the length of his blue jeans. He looked very familiar. She couldn't help but eye him as he stepped out of the lift. Their eyes met with proverbial interest.

"Sorry," she started, adding more sound to the scene than the steps of his cowboy boots and the distant echoes of car horns and police sirens. "Do I know you?"

Hwoarang looked her over. He had definitely seen her face before, and he disowned himself for not getting to know her gorgeous body better. He was a sucker for short skirts and pretty faces. "I don't know, do you? Maybe we'll discover that we are long lost brother and sister over a cup of coffee. Although," he said, his eyes travelling south of her face. "I really hope that's not case. I'd curse my already cursed fate if I found out someone as cute as you were actually related to me."

"Charming," she replied bluntly. She didn't derive any pleasure from turning guys down, and never did it in a rude manner unless they truly deserved it, but with the cold persistently biting at her unclothed legs and arms, she couldn't help but be a little irritable. "Seriously, my name's Asuka and I can remember seeing your face somewhere…"

"Must've been in your dreams," Hwoarang continued, apparently not getting the point.

Asuka frowned at the dismissive attitude he was giving her. "Yeah, probably … But with a face like yours it sounds more like a nightmare."

"Oooh," Hwoarang let out, sounding impressed as he began to circle her slowly. "A nightmare eh..." he whispered from behind her. "Well, I do have the tendency to make women scream."

"Err, fine," she growled, feeling defeated. "If that's all you want to think about then goodbye." But just as she was heading back for the lift, its doors shut, leaving her outside to wait for another whole round before returning to the roof. She turned to Hwoarang, who was wearing the most irritating grin she had seen in her life. "Now look! You made me miss my ride!"

"Don't worry," he said calmly, noticing the growing Goosebumps on her exposed legs. "I can keep you warm if you let me." But she simply continued to whistle while looking at a random point in the sky. "Alright, alright, sheesh," he submitted. "I was just playing with you. I'm Hwoarang."

"Hwoarang?" She mumbled his name to herself, trying to recall where she heard it. "Hwoarang!" She said, finally sure. "From the tournament! I was supposed to fight you in the semi-finals but you were a no-show. What happened?"

"A no-show!?" Hwoarang howled, feeling disrespected. "I've never been a no-show in my life. It's simple really. My motives for entering the tournament were satisfied. There was no reason to hang around any longer."

Asuka ran her hands up and down her petite arm muscles, warming them up as she listened to him. For someone to work so hard to reach the semi-finals and just throw away the opportunity of attaining the Mishima Zaibatsu seemed a little strange to her. "And what exactly was your motive?"

"I needed to defeat someone." His eyes flashed dangerously. "I made Jin Kazama realise who –"

"KAZAMA!?" Asuka blurted out. Then she cleared her throat and quieted down, feeling embarrassed at her exaggeration. "Kazama, but that's my name. It must be him. So ... his name is Jin."

"You're weird."

"But you said you defeated Jin," she said seriously, ignoring his last sentence. "That must mean ... he was advanced to the semi-finals as a result of your forfeit." It was more of an assumption than a certified fact.

Hwoarang folded his arms and kept the seriousness on his face. "What do you mean, advanced? He should've been knocked out of the tournament completely! Damn the Mishima and the Kazama for thinking they can do anything they want."

"Sorry to be the one tell you but we pretty much can," Asuka said light-heartedly. She looked him over again. He didn't look incredibly strong and the Ki she could sense from him wasn't very impressive. He probably was confining his full power. He had to be if he truly did defeat Jin at the tournament. The concrete look in his eyes was pretty convincing evidence that he had. And if that was case, he could be a valuable asset to her mission. "You know, the Jin I saw had these huge wings, and scary horns, and creepy red eyes," she said, gesturing each feature as she explained it. "And you're telling me, you can beat him?"

"Huh?" he was confused. "Unless he grew those wings and horns that very day, I doubt we'd be talking about the same Jin. People don't just grow wings, Kazama. I thought that school uniform would mean you actually go to school."

"Hrm," she complained. "You wouldn't understand. It's family business. And don't call me Kazama, sounds way too formal. Why do you think I told you my name in the first place? But hey, let's say I believe you, that you really beat Jin. Would you be willing to help me out with something?"

This was all beginning to sound really familiar to Hwoarang. "Not you too! When will you people learn, there is no way I'm helping you find or save or whatever Jin Kazama. The day I'd do that is the day some random Kangaroo or Bear actually won a King of Iron Fist Tournament, okay. It's not going to happen."

"But how did you know..." Asuka wondered how he predicted what she was going to ask. "Come on. I wouldn't be asking if it was something I could handle on my own. It's just that Devil thing was soooo scary. But if I knew someone who could beat it..."

Hwoarang shook his head. "I'm sorry, but you're asking the wrong guy." He turned his back towards her and began walking away when the elevator chime sounded. Judging from its volume, the elevator was only two floors down from the top. He sensed a rush of energy coming from the lift. It could only be...

"Lei," Asuka said, also sensing his energy. He had helped her track down Feng in the tournament and so became a friend to her. "What's wrong?" She shouted over to Hwoarang, noticing that he had become a little shaky. "You're not a bad guy are you?" He didn't say anything or turn around. "You are! Oh, you're so busted! There's no way off this rooftop except that elevator and I doubt you'll be able to make it through with him all over you."

An overconfident smirk surfaced on his face. "Who said anything about running," he retorted, lifting his fist as the chime brought the elevator a level higher.

"Please, a master of Five Form Chinese Martial Arts is no push over. Lucky for you I'm still here." Asuka thought about what she was about to offer. Assisting someone on the wrong side of the law would definitely come back to haunt her. But she had to do something about Jin. She had to fulfil her own destiny. "I'll help you if you help me. What do you say?"

Hwoarang broke out in a spookily, evil laugh. He turned around to face her as he regained his composure. "Nice try, but I don't need anybody's help for this and certainly not yours."

"Fine," Asuka said calmly. "I'll be sure to see you during visiting hours then."

The lift's chime sounded again, this time it was the rooftop. Hwoarang turned to look at the door for an instant but as soon as he turned back there was nothing where Asuka had been standing. His eyes darted in different directions as he tried to catch her location. There was nothing, she seemed to have vanished into thin air. It had been a while since he witnessed anyone move that fast. But there were more pressing matters to consider. He watched as the lift's doors slowly separated.

Lei Wulong stepped out, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows and standing in place to ensure that the elevator returned to the shopping mall empty. The wind blew his ponytail as he approached Hwoarang with hurtful intent.

"Let's go." That was all he said before resuming his battle pose.

"Yeah, yeah. Shut up already," Hwoarang said, feeling unflustered. He raised his gauntlet covered fists.

Silence ensued as the two fighters locked glares. Hwoarang kept his eyes fixed on Lei's, even as the super cop was moving left and right in a weary sidewalk. He was waiting for the right position and precise time to launch an opening attack. And there it was! Hwoarang's hop stopped as he lifted a lighting quick left leg, directing his sole straight to the gap between his opponent's eyes.

It was so quick ... and so high, Wulong anticipated, at almost the exact instant the young man's foot just left the ground. This left Hwoarang's right leg vulnerable to a swift sweep.

On connection, his body span like a speedy clock's seconds' hand before he hit the floor head first, leading his body to drop with a thump. Thankfully, Hwoarang's experience taught him the useful technique of tech rolling. He pulled it off perfectly, fully avoiding Wulong's Falling Tree attack as he got back to a vertical base. Wulong's face was forced to the side by the hard tip of Hwoarang's boot when he performed an Ankle Biter on a back-to-the-floor opponent.

Wulong clenched his teeth but was neither seriously fazed by the attack nor by the close proximity of the ground - which had become his friend over the years of training. Instead of worrying, he contemplated whether to get up with a surprise sweep or a double kick to his Hwoarang's face. Hastily, as all battle decision's were, he put his hands behind his head and sprung himself up with his feet meeting the unexpected criminal's rigid jaw and launching him high into the air. A veteran like him knew he had to cease all opportunities, so he threw out a stream of punches, switching between his left and right hands, hitting his midair opponent on his way to the ground. He finished off the Razor Rush with a mid-kick, before Hwoarang finally met the floor back first.

The painful groans of his offender were treated mercilessly as the officer rushed over to him, pulling out a set of handcuffs from his back pockets. Hwoarang's wrists were easily bound. He lacked the inner strength to fight it. "You have the right to remain silent," the cop began to recite him his rights.

He was caught off guard, Hwoarang convinced himself, as he was hauled back to his feet roughly by Wulong. He panted furiously, attempting to break the cuffs tying his hands behind him but it was no use. Patches of dirt on his cheeks only added salt to his injuries. There was still one hope. He didn't want to go jail. He wasn't going to go to jail, no matter what. "OKAY! HELP ME! I'LL HELP YOU! I PROMISE!"

Wulong looked at the young man, perplexed. Most prisoners only cracked after years of being behind bars. He continued patting the convict's back, searching for illegal substances. "As I was saying, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."

"IF YOU CAN HEAR ME!" Hwoarang continued to cry out to the skies as loud as he could. He didn't even want to think of the shame the arrest would bring to his master's dojo, or to himself. No. If he managed to escape this one he would definitely change his ways. "I SAID I'LL HELP YOU! JUST PLEASE, I'M SORRY IF I SAID ANYTHING TO OFFEND YOU!" But his tired breadth was growing faint and soon he could do nothing more than gasp for air.

"Who are you talking to--"

The cop was cut off.

A rush of wind suddenly blew past Hwoarang's ears and flapped the strands of orange hair behind his head. His peripheral vision caught Wulong leaning to the side, stiff and unsteadily like a falling domino. In slow motion, the officer's body bounced off the hard floor once before resting still and silent. Hwoarang looked down at the cop, shut eyes and a tilted, unmoving, upper lip declared him unconscious. He turned his head back, looking for the executioner.

A blaze of blue of yellow back flipped to the ground before him. Asuka landed in a crouched position, one hand and one knee touching the surface for balance as her skirt and hair fluttering in the gentle gusts. Silently, she stood up and approached him. She clutched the chain connecting the two handcuffs and yanked it up, breaking it apart with a single hand.

Hwoarang stared at his free hands, amazed at what had just happened. "Wow, it's astounding how much damage such a pretty looking thing can do," he said, as he knelt down to check Wulong's pulse.

"Pretty?" Asuka said as she adjusted her sky-blue fingerless gloves. "You're talking about me or you? Never mind, I guess it'd have to be me, seeing as you couldn't do any damage at all." She shook her head disappointedly. "Man, you're weak."

Red flushed Hwoarang's face at the disgrace of being saved by a girl. "Whatever," he said, looking away to hide his features.

"Now it's time for you live up to your end of the deal."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I guess that little Chinese girl would be so glad to meet you." He gathered from Asuka's silence that she didn't know who he was talking about. "Just forget it. Let's go ... before I change my mind."

ooOOoo

Somewhere deep in the greenness of a living forest, sitting cross-legged with its palms shut together, was an extraordinary being. Gold armour was situated around its body, shining brilliantly against the jade of foliage and vegetation. It hummed to itself as it rocked back and forth, contemplating and anticipating how it would avenge its close friend by recapturing that monster, but most importantly recapturing ... it

End of Chapter 3