Chapter III: Enter A Mysterious Man

A/N: I own no part of Tekken

plz people, don't hit my stories without reviewing them,

leave a comment even if it's to tell me that what I wrote

sucked. And why doesn't darling Jin's story get many

reviews? Anyway...

Hwoarang slouched into the cramped, dimlit room, where he immediately noticed the stranger, sitting in a dark corner, patiently awaiting his arrival. The man motioned for him to sit, and Hwoarang eased himself into a cheap plastic chair directly across from his visitor, glancing at the two orderlies who were anxiously hovering nearby. The man made another almost imperceptible gesture, and the orderlies quickly left, closing the door behind them. Now the two were alone.

Hwoarang watched his visitor with polite interest, as though he were a mildly entertaining television program. The stranger's appearance amused him: well dressed, in an immaculate beige suit. Well-groomed slightly greying hair tighed back in a neat little ponytail. Austere, slightly lined face. He sat with his right heel crossed over his left knee, and Hwoarang noticed the shiny, expensive looking loafers that he wore. Hwoarang instantly compared him to those respectable looking lawyers he saw in movies, the ones who in reality made their large fortunes defending murderers and crooks. This impression was spoiled somewhat by the wide-brimmed hat the stranger sported, as well as his strict looking face.

Hwoarang tried to appear as laid back as possible. He sat back, his feet propped up against the rickety little table between the two of them, a deliberate attempt at outright rudeness. He did not like the scorching look he received in return, and liked it even less when the tense silence continued to stretch between them. Finally, he decided that it was safe for him to make the first move. " So, you gonna be my lawyer?" His voice was hoarse from disuse.

The stranger cleared his throat, and then responded in a clipped, no-nonsense tone," What have you done, boy?"

Hwoarang did not answer immediately, but proceeded to examine with feigned interest the fingers of his right hand. Due to his long confinement, they now glowed palely in the dim light. Finally, he replied," Who said I've done anything?" He could barely keep irritation out of his voice.

The man merely shrugged, before saying," Requesting a lawyer is, more often than not, an admission of guilt. Naturally, I should assume that you have gotten into some sort of trouble."

Hwoarang let out a derisive snort and said," Well, you just assumed wrong, 'cuz that's not why they're keeping me locked up here!" His voice had an edge to it, and that worried him; he did not understand why this man's presence was suddenly affecting his cool-headedness; perhaps it had something to do with that knowing look in his eyes.

" Strange," the man went on with a slight sneer. " I also assumed that you walked into this place with your own free will."

Hwoarang ignored this, concentrating instead on his sneakered feet. The man uncrossed his legs, leaned towards him and whispered confidentially," Being the first witness on a crimescene doesn't necessarily incriminate you, but what you and your little friends have been doing for a living certainly does."

Hwoarang flinched as those words hit home. Nobody, as far as he knew, not the most perseverent police detective, not even the sleaziest defense lawyer, had the slightest clue that children were involved in Sing District's drug operations. It had been something that had constantly baffled the Seoul PD, the way drugs seemed to circulate so freely, and it had been traditionally one of the district's darkest and most well-kept secrets. How in the world did this man know?

Hwoarang mustered all his strength and willed himself to remain composed. He leaned back, resuming his insolent lounging, and said with forced calm," I don't mean to be rude,"(rudeness was implied in every syllable), " but who the hell are you and what the hell do you want from me?"

The man frowned at him," Someone needs to teach you manners, boy. My name is Baek Do San, and I'm a military instructor at an army base on the coast, though I'm currently on leave."

Hwoarang laughed. "A military instructor, huh? What, you gonna draft me into the army? No wait! Are you sure they're not kicking you out 'cuz you're getting too old?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

The man watched him laugh, his arms folded, his expression unfathomable. Hwoarang abruptly sobered up and asked, with a wary look on his face," So why did you come to this hellhole, really?"

Baek Do San stirred in his seat before replying, " You have qualities that interest me. You've seen things no child should, and as crude and undisciplined as you are, you've handled yourself well. I can pull you out of this... predicament," he finished, gesturing around the room.

Hwoarang digested this in silence. Then he responded, with some animosity, " I really don't buy this crap. I mean, it's no big deal, really, things like this happen all over the place, and loads of people turn out okay, so why me?" He stared intensely into the man's eyes, as though determined to put him in a hypnotic state. " You know way too much, so who the hell are you, really?" He held the man's gaze as he said this, intent on catching him lying.

Baek Do San returned Hwoarang's gaze, in a way that made the preteen feel that he was being X-rayed. "You're wiser than you look, boy. How old are you?"

" Old enough to be known by my damn name!" he shot back.

"And what would that be?"

He hesitated. " Hwoarang," he finally said, feeling that the man probably knew it already.

"Well , Hwoarang, if you insist on mistrusting me, then there is something you will need to see."

And without further ado, Baek removed his jacket, undid the buttons of his shirt and turned his back on Hwoarang, who gasped at the intricate design tattooed on the man's back. "Looks familiar?" Baek asked with a dry smile.

"Where did you get that? You.. you actually used to be a gangster?" Hwoarang was not sure why he found this so shocking, but he had instantly recognised the design as the same one his late Master Kim had had. That explains a lot though, he thought, holy crap! " So you knew Master Kim?"

" Gangster? Is that the term for it nowadays? How crude! I was a rogue once, but I grew out of my ways; you're the first one to see this tattoo in almost thirteen years. Yes, I knew your Master Kim; I owe him a life debt. I sought you out, his favourite boy, and offered you a home, mainly to repay my debt. Now come, unless you'd rather rot here." He replaced his shirt and jacket and stormed out of the room, with an incredulous Hwoarang at his heels.

Baek Do San had finished signing the official papers, and now they were in the asylum's parking lot, the cool night air stinging Hwoarang's face for the first time in months. Hwoarang gasped as they stopped before a magnificent, sleek black motorcycle." Wow, I thought we're gonna be leaving in a limo or something, but, man, this is way cooler!"

Baek smiled slightly at the boy's delight, stuffed his hat out of sight, replaced it with a helmet and threw one over to Hwoarang. He then mounted gracefully and beckoned for Hwoarang to do the same. " Hold on tightly; I never go slowly." Hwoarang did, as the engine roared to life and Baek kicked off rather violently. Hwoarang clung to him as they raced at breakneck speed, relishing the feel of the wind whipping his face, as his flaming red hair flew behind him. His spirits soared all of a sudden, and he let out a loud whoop of joy at his freedom. Surely what was in store for him could not be worse than what he had just left behind.

A/N: I felt this was longer than the 1st 2 Chaps. You were right CII, the visitor WAS Baek, so cheers for you!