A/N: For those who haven't started reading recently, the minor characters underwent name changes: Foxie- Hyun-Ok; Sugar- Sun Jung; Spice- Sun Hi; Viper- Jae-Hwa; and Scar is still Scar.
!!!Important!!!: This is the revised version of this chapter. I didn't like the first version. *cough*
My apologies if you've already read (and to the two that reviewed already, thank you very much :) ), but there's quite a bit of change now.
Disclaimer: Tekken belongs to Namco, not me.
Gravity
Hwoarang was in about as foul a mood as he could possibly be.
Standing at the bathroom sink, he was scrubbing at the side of his face and the locks of hair that usually feathered along the side of his face, cursing the dried vomit that clung tenaciously despite his vicious swipes with a washcloth. Snarling to himself, he fought the urge to simply drag the source of the vile substance, along with his dirtied bedding, outside and simply leave the whole fucking mess there for someone else to take care of.
"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!"
Wringing the cloth out yet again, the redhead imagined that it was the scrawny neck of that...
A determined knocking at the front door interrupted his violent musings. The images of throttling were pushed from his mind, only to be replaced by thoughts of beating the shit out of whomever dared to come to visit this early.
Stomping out of the bathroom, he headed straight for the source of the obnoxious rapping sound. Unlocking the deadbolt, the Blood Talon flung the door wide open and began to yell at the brave, or stupid, individual that had decided to drop by.
"It's eleven o' clock in the goddamn...!"
He stopped mid-shout. Faith stared in at him, eyes wide and knuckles still raised to knock again.
"That's a lovely greeting, dye job."
Hwoarang shrugged loosely at the sarcasm laden comment, slumping against the threshold as the anger that had been fueling him all morning drained away. Even thoughts of the disgusting flecks still clinging to his copper locks were temporarily forgotten as he assessed his unexpected guest.
"I thought you were pissed at me," he drawled, giving her a once over as he tried to think of a reason she would come to see him, especially after the manner in which they'd parted ways the night before. Noticing the loose workout outfit she wore, the pieces clicked. "Gonna take me up on that training offer?"
Faith responded to his sudden smirk with a cautious half-smile of her own. Opening her mouth to reply, she was cut off by another female voice, this one from behind the redhead.
"What the hell? Where are my underwear?"
Faith physically withdrew from the sound, her posture, which had been slowly relaxing as he spoke, stiffening into a defensive stance.
Jaw clenching, she grated, "Sorry to interrupt. Maybe some other time."
"Damnit. Faith! Don't be like that!"
He began to follow the brunette, reaching out to grab her wrist as she spun on her heel and stalked away, but a tap on his shoulder turned his attention in the opposite direction.
"Who are you? What district are we in? And what the hell is all over my face?! Gah!... It stinks!"
Head snapping around to stare at the nameless woman, it took every remaining shred of Hwoarang's control to keep from grabbing her by the neck and physically throwing her whiny ass out.
Sensing the unpleasantness of the attention she was receiving, the now uneasy subject of Hwoarang's aggravated scrutiny took a cautious step backward. The hostile intensity in his stare, combined with his sheer muscle mass, was more than a little intimidating.
"Get out," the surly thug growled, jabbing one finger towards the still-open door.
Showing some intelligence, or at least the presence of a survival instinct, the woman heeded the order and scurried out, the purse and high heels she'd found discarded on the floor clutched to her chest. Any missing undergarments were completely forgotten.
Slamming the door behind the second person to run away from his apartment that morning, Hwoarang growled to himself, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he considered his options. He could catch up with Faith if he threw some shoes on now and ran out shirtless onto the streets. If one of the gang saw though, or heard by word of gossipy neighbor mouth, he'd catch hell about it for who knew how long. If he didn't, she'd stay pissy and he'd have to deal with it until she found something else to be angry about.
"Fuck that," he grumbled, imagining the scene they'd make on the street. She'd go off on him the moment he caught up to her, regardless of location, and he'd look like some needy puppy getting it's nose rubbed in the carpet. "Double fuck that."
'Heeeeeey, Hwoarang! I was just...'
Skip.
'I'm shooo drunk right...'
Skip.
'Hey man, just callin' to see if you were free to go out tomorrow night. I invited Faith and that cute friend of hers along too, but she hung up on me when I mentioned you might go. It's been two days, now just fuckin' say you're sorry already. Women jump to conclusions and interpret things wrong all the time. We gotta put up with the drama, it's a fact of life. Deal with it. Anyway, call me back.'
Chin in hand as he sat at the edge of his bed, Hwoarang deleted the voicemails, sent by Hyun-Ok, Jae-Hwa, and Scar respectively, before sliding his phone shut and tossing it onto the top of the mess that was his nightstand. He wasn't even going to bother checking the texts, figuring that most of them would probably be gibberish from drunken gang members anyway. That's what he got for staying home to actually sleep and recuperate from training.
Flopping back down onto rumpled covers, the redhead stretched out backwards, remaining that way for several minutes with arms tucked behind his head. Scar's message replayed in his head as he lay there, sticking on the part about Faith hanging up at the very mention of him. As that thought continued to bother him, the Blood Talon turned his head to stare at the phone on the nightstand, fingers twitching in indecision.
Sighing crabbily, he finally snatched the device from its messy nest and punched in the number echoing demandingly in his head. And this was what he got for thinking that that woman would show some common sense.
Still sunk in a dreamless sleep, Faith was completely oblivious to the phone going off on the kitchen counter.
Set to silent and vibrate, the black cellphone tap-danced it's way across the smooth countertop with every ring. Reaching the edge, it tilted precariously until the last ring sent it tumbling onto the hard floor, plastic pieces skittering away from the scene of the crash as it shuddered it's last dying vibration.
Faith slept on, a small frown creasing her brow as she rolled over.
"Fuck that, then," Hwoarang growled, chucking his own cell across the room and into a pile of dirty laundry.
He sure as hell wasn't going to apologize now. Especially over fucking nothing. Why bother if she wouldn't even answer her fucking phone to see what he had to say?
Readjusting his blue gloves, Hwoarang eyed his opponent across the dojang and shook his head. Baek had informed him just that morning that there was another set of new pupils in need of skill assessment placement.
Over the past week there had been horde of such students every day, most of which had been sent by the army. The news that the dojang would be opened within the next couple of weeks had obviously leaked to those higher up on the military command chain, and so Baek Doo San had quite literally found himself with a platoon of untrained recruits on his doorstep.
In response to this premature onslaught of enrollment, the Tae Kwon Do master had set each and every one up against his star pupil, deciding what level to begin their training on their performance.
To Hwoarang, the daily lineup of callow soldiers had been nothing more than a succession of breathing training dummies, the majority of them exhibiting the same ability a sandbag or lifeless Mokujin would. The only difference between the mean and the actual training equipment was that he had to hold himself back when striking the former. The restriction was a chafing annoyance, but Baek had ordered him to keep from inflicting any serious injury since most were only beginners, and those with some practice under their belt had terrible form.
Letting out an aggravated sigh, the redhead ceased his warm-up stretches and moved to the center of the training floor, falling into a bouncing Left Stance as his opponent approached. Looking the nervous boy, his round baby face was certainly not that of a man's, up and down, the Blood Talon waited for his master's signal before throwing the strikes for a half-hearted Migraine attack. Both fists struck the younger man full in the face, sending him stumbling backwards and clutching his bleeding nose.
Moving to knock the feet out from under the boy-soldier, the biker stopped at a signal from his mentor and backed away.
'That was quick.'
Directing a stiff nod of the head towards the novice now glaring at him over blood soaked fingers, he walked back to the wall, resuming his waiting position against the wall as Baek informed the match loser of his placement in the novice class.
Kneeling to tighten his foot guards, Hwoarang paid no heed to the sound of footsteps receding across the wooden floor as the other two men left the spacious room. Put out even further by the fact that the first of the morning's newbies had ended up being a total pussy, the redhead prayed that the rest of his faux opponents weren't as boring. He wanted at least a little spice added to an otherwise bland day.
Unfortunately for him, that wish wasn't granted until the end of the day.
Gazing absentmindedly out of the newly paned windows, Hwoarang turned boredom glazed eyes towards the door, the distinctive sound of it sliding open and the courteous greeting of his mentor indicating the arrival of the last of the enrolled newcomers. Listening closely, he caught the sound of a softer, higher voice echoing Baek's greeting, the accent strikingly familiar...
Striding to a spot where he could see over the older man's shoulder, his suspicions were confirmed as guarded blue-green eyes locked with his own.
"... You?" the biker's question was directed at the woman entering the dojang, but it was Baek who answered.
"Considering all the army personnel I'll be training, I wanted to have at least a handful of students without militant motivation. Besides, you told me awhile back that she had potential... Now, are you planning on sparring with that stupid look on your face the entire time? Or are you going to focus and get into form?"
Snapping his focus back to the situation at hand, Hwoarang quickly bowed to his master before backtracking to stand in the spot at the center of the training floor he'd become familiar with. Falling back into Left Stance for the umpteenth time that day, he watched intently as his newest opponent took her own starting position.
Waiting for Baek's signal to begin, the redhead couldn't help but compare the cool look leveled his way now to the glacial one he'd last scene on her face.
"Begin!"
Still lost in thought, Hwoarang was a split second too slow in dodging the foot aimed straight at his face. Knocked back a step, he immediately prepared himself for a continued barrage, but it didn't come.
Keeping his guard up, the star pupil found the newcomer watching him with a very smug look on her face.
"Feel better now?" he muttered, squeezing his fists even tighter in irritation at being caught by such a sucker kick.
"Not quite."
There was a challenge in her voice, but it lacked hostility. In fact, it lacked any trace of emotion. Even the smugness had faded from her expression, replaced by the deadpan countenance she'd adopted as soon as he'd entered her line of sight.
As Hwoarang felt his agitation at her impassive facade grow, Faith's mind was racing behind the neutral face she put on. Standing there in front of reminded of the conversation she'd had with Eun the day before.
"It's just FFS, stop sweating it."
Faith narrowed suspicious eyes at her blonde friend from over the top of her laptop, trying to remember what 'FFS' stood for and getting the intense feeling that she'd blocked out the term for a reason. Lowering the screen and removing the comforting glow of words she could actually understand, the confused woman gave an inward sigh of resignation.
"What the hell does that even mean?"
"First-fuck syndrome. Or 'for fuck's sake', depending on how you use it.... Anyway. My point is that you'll get over it soon enough. Just go bang another guy."
The lewdness of her friends remedy left the brunette speechless for a moment. When the shock wore off, she forced her voice to remain level when replying instead of releasing the scathing sarcasm that practically screamed to be released at such a suggestion.
"That may be how you solve your problems, Eun, but it's not how I solve mine."
"Fine. Then you can just keep pining over that asshole who obviously doesn't care about you in the same way. You had sex, he got what he wanted, and now he's moved on. You should do the same."
Faith's forcedly calm stare became an outright glare, a sneer growing on her face.
"I'm not pining, I'm just pissed. And do I need to remind you that you're the one who pushed me to 'go for it!'" she quoted her friends past encouragement with the most high-pitched and obnoxious tone she could muster."Besides, it's hard to put stock in your opinion when it changes faster then the procession of men that parade in and out of your bedroom. Pick a side and fuckin' stick with it already!"
"... You're such a bitch, Faith. I've been on your side! Do you know how hard it's been to push your sorry ass into acting like a normal woman instead of the shut-in you turn into when left alone?! So yeah, I did push you into going for it, because for Chrissake he's the only man you've shown an inkling of interest in sleeping with! Boyfriends you almost never saw and barely kissed back in high school don't exactly count when it comes to gaining experience with men. Don't give me that fucking look," Faith was glaring even more venomously at her friend than before, "because you know it's true! At least now you can find a man and attempt to have a normal relationship. And just in case you forgot, the number of men I parade through my bedroom is my business, not yours."
The two women remained motionless as Eun's last words hung in the air, their locked glares accompanied by pressed lips on one and a petulant pout on the other. Faith relented first, relaxing her stern expression and allowing her shoulders to slump.
"It just sucks, is all."
The blonde woman softened at the despondence present in her roommate's voice. Feeling a sympathetic rush, she said, "Men in general suck, honey. That's why I never keep any particular one around for too long."
A knock at the door interrupted the beginning of the man-bashing pep talk, startling them both.
"Are you having someone over?" Faith asked, no trace of insult in her tone as she got up to check who it was.
"No... You?"
"Nope."
Checking through the peephole, she felt the small hope that had begun to grow at seeing a redhead outside die. Instead, she saw his second-in-command waiting patiently with hands in pockets. With a small sigh, she opened the door.
"Hey, Scar. Who's... Baek Doo San?"
Dodge the incoming right fist. Step away from the low sweep kick and guard the midsection from the kicks that followed. Sidestep away from the Rocket Launcher and send a kick towards his side. Blocked. Follow up with a one-two punch combo. Blocked again.
Even as the sparring match continued, Faith still couldn't quite believe that the Tae Kwon Do master had appeared at her front door, or that he'd invited her to train under him at the new dojang when it was officially opened. The fact that she'd have to fight against Hwoarang first had not been mentioned until she'd actually arrived, which gave her the sneaking suspicion that Scar had something to do with the personal invite.
Blocking with her forearms against a kick towards her head, the brunette gasped as she felt him grab her arm and press a foot into her sternum. The world suddenly did a corkscrew as she was flipped over his head and thrown back to the ground. Stunned, she stared up from the floor at the biker who'd finally released the grin he'd been holding back.
"That's called a Jackknife, sweetheart."
"Don't. Fucking. Call me that," she growled through gritted teeth, rolling over to get back up and taking a defensive stance.
Faith knew for a fact that that throw should have damaged her a lot more than simply being momentarily disoriented and left with with a sore back. He hadn't even attacked as she lay on the ground, wide open to a hit... He was going easy on her!
The thought irritated her, but not nearly as much as the thankful sigh of relief in the back of her head did. She didn't want to be thankful to him about anything, even if he was refraining from kicking her out-of-practice ass.
The last time she'd done anything close to training had been the last time she'd faced off against the redhead, but the bruising woman hadn't figured that would matter much in what she had imagined would be a simple skill assessment. A sparring match against a regular King of Iron Fist Tounament participant was another story entirely.
Trying to reign back her anger, which a grinning Hwoarang was blatantly enjoying provoking, Faith stepped forward and attempted to trip him with a low kick, but was again blocked. The Blood Talon responded with his own chain of attacks, most of which were dodged. The last two hits connected with her stomach, although they were more like love taps compared to the force he could actually put behind them. The dance of avoidance and half-assed strikes continued, until Faith finally began to get fed up.
Putting her all her effort into fending him off while he wasn't even breaking a sweat throwing her around was maddening. It didn't help that all of her own punches and kicks were easily knocked away every time, with the exception of that very satisfying first kick.
As they both took a step back in between the rounds of their martial arts waltz, she couldn't help but ask:"Why are you holding back?"
"'Cause I don't wanna bust up those pretty legs again," came the smartass reply.
"Fuck you."
"Anytime, baby."
The taunting, hitting just the right buttons, had it's desired effect.
Lacking form or grace, Faith rushed forward with fist drawn back to smash it into his face. The fact that he could stop that punch as easily as he'd stopped the others didn't really register until he'd already knocked the incoming blow out of the way and caught her by the shoulders. Using her momentum to move them both, Hwoarang rolled backwards, dragging her with until she'd once again landed on her back. Still rolling, he landed in the position to sit on her stomach with his legs pinning her wrists, strong hands crossed at her exposed throat.
A Roll without the Choke.
"I should so nail you in the nuts right now," Faith grumbled, feeling slightly breathless from the acrobatic attack and noticing the exposed position he was in. If only she'd had a free limb...
Hwoarang started to smile, another innuendo on the tip of his tongue, but Baek's order cut sharply through the now-still air of the dojang, bringing both of the younger adults eyes to him.
"That's enough."
Acknowledging the command with a nod, the redhead carefully got up from his precarious seat and reached down to help up Faith, who grudgingly accepted the assistance. They both turned towards the Killing Hawk as he gave his appraisal.
"Your technique is rough, you're sloppy when it comes to strike recovery, and you obviously need to learn how to keep a clear head when your opponent is taunting you," the older man flashed his smugly smirking top student a sharp look, "but you have plenty of potential for improvement. I see no need to place you in a beginning class to rehash the most basic techniques, but you'll have to put in extra effort to smooth out the kinks before you progress any further. Advanced classes begin at five in the evenings on weekdays, although you're welcome to come and train in the early mornings if you wish. I expect you to have a proper dobuk to wear during classes."
Faith listened carefully to the critique of her style, trying not to wince at the harsh honesty. When he'd finished, she bowed, more in thanking him for acceptance into his classes than for the criticism.
"Thank you."
"Mm. Our first day open is Monday. I will see you then."
With that, Baek nodded in dismissal. His students, the old and the new, bowed as he left to attend his own business.
Left to their own devices in the training area, Hwoarang pounced upon the opportunity to ask the questions that had been bothering him since she'd walked into the dojang. He was halted, however, by the site of her fiddling with the scarlet stained bandages wrapped about her hand. Startled, Hwoarang grabbed her wrist and brought it palmside up to examine it.
"You're bleeding."
"It's fine," she muttered, trying to yank her hand away from him.
Sometime during their sparring, the gash across her palm had broken open. Blood had soaked through the bandage along the line of the cut, and some had leaked out to dry between her fingers and along the outside edge of her hand. It hadn't bothered her during the spar, but the reopened slice began to throb as if realizing it suddenly had her attention.
Noticing her flinch, Hwoarang tightened his grip on her wrist and pulled her towards a nondescript door on the far side of the room.
"There's a first aid kit in the office," he explained, ignoring her growled protests.
"Let me go, damnit. I'm fine. Let go. Always fucking dragging me around with your goddamn handcuff-hands."
The stream of mild cursing and attempted pulls at freedom did not let up until they'd actually entered the sparsely furnished office and he shoved her over to take a seat on the edge of the desk.
"Stay there," he ordered, moving to grab a first-aid kit from a side drawer.
Faith snorted softly to herself, mumbling, "Yeah right."
As soon as his back was to her, the American quickly strode towards the door, but was halted by a reinstated grip on her upper arm.
"I said to stay here."
"I'm not your fucking dog."
"I'm trying to help you, woman! Why the fuck won't you pull out that stick up your ass?"
"I don't want your help!" Faith informed him, the volume of her voice steadily rising.
"Your gonna get it anyway!" the redhead replied in kind, his hold on her reinforcing his words. If she wanted a shouting match she'd get one.
"Just fuck off, Hwoarang! It's what you do best isn't it?"
"Only when the mood strikes!"
There was a moment of silence in which they simply stared at each other. The biker was the first to shatter the quiet, his tone far softer than it had been.
"I didn't do anything with that woman. That was just you jumping to conclusions."
"There was a disheveled looking woman in clothing from last night asking where her underwear were. I don't see how you can expect me to come to any other conclusion then that you fucked her."
The blunt accusation, though spoken in a level voice, caught him by surprise. He couldn't think of anything to respond with other than the truth.
"I was going to, but... she passed out. And then I passed out. So technically we didn't sleep together."
"Technically," Faith echoed coldly, crossing her arms across her chest and trying to shake his grip on her bicep off.
"You know, you have great cleavage when you do that."
"...... Hn."
His attempt at redirecting her anger failing, Hwoarang felt himself becoming irritated again.
"If it makes any difference, she wasn't wearing panties to begin with, so I couldn't have taken them off."
The sharp intake of Faith's breath at the jibe could have been mistaken for the hiss of a pissed off cobra. The poison she emanated, however, was from her eyes and not her mouth, which was tightly pressed shut in an effort to keep from unleashing a torrent of profanity.
Baleful gaze locked on the biker, who was glaring back at her in mounting vexation, the brunette tried to calm herself with reminders that he was not her boyfriend, and that by all rights they shouldn't even be having this discussion. It really wasn't any of her business... It really wasn't... It just...
Like a lightbulb suddenly switching on, Faith came to a terrible realization.
'So much for being the sensible one. Just had to be a player didn't it? At least Eun has the sense to ditch them before she gets attached...'
"You're supposed to be pissed now. Scream at me, damnit."
Startled by the rough-voiced interruption of her epiphany, the remnants of temper in her expression shifted to complete confusion at the absurdity of the demand. It was an unusual order coming from anyone, to say the least, but to come from someone who was usually telling her to shut the hell up it was downright startling.
"... What?"
"Scream at me. Have a fucking hissy fit. Hit me! Do anything, but for fuck's sake, woman, stop looking at me like that!"
"Like what?"
"Like I just ran over your favorite pet and then backed over it again."
Faith stared at him, horrified. "That's the worst analogy I've ever heard."
"It's what you looked like."
The way he spoke, a mix of concern and something she couldn't quite identify, guilt maybe, caused the brunette to unveil the smallest of smiles. The look remained subdued, however, as her inner voice of warning started to chant 'He's just going to hurt you, you idiot.'.
"I really didn't screw her," Hwoarang reiterated, as if sensing the voice of doubt. His tone was serious as he spoke, his hand moving downward to take hold of her fingers.
Perhaps it was her new found grasp on her inner turmoil, or the fact that they had yelled at each other and relieved some of the tension, but Faith felt a spark of hope at his shift in attitude. She'd go against her better judgment and believe him, she decided, thinking of how Eun was going to shit a brick when she found out.
"I'll have to take your word for it."
The Korean felt as if his jaw would drop to the floor at the unexpected acceptance. Managing to keep his mouth from actually falling open, he felt the sudden disbelief and pleasant surprise vanish at her next words.
"Although I don't see why we've.... why I've made a big deal out of this. Your night life is none of my business. We're not together. "
"Well, maybe we should be. Because if I found out you slept with someone else I'd kill him."
It was Faith's turn to have a slack jaw, her surprise divided equally between the possessiveness in his tone and his murderous inclinations towards would-be suitors. Thoughts stuttering, she tried to find the laughter in his eyes that would indicate he was just joking and trying to get a rise out of her, but found nothing except a very uncharacteristic gravity.
Uncertain as to how to reply to such a statement, Faith didn't object as he closed the minimal gap between them and lifted her face up, kissing her in a way that made her mind go blissfully blank.
Hwoarang was the first to pull back and speak.
"Does that mean you agree?"
"I wasn't aware you'd asked a question," Faith replied, still feeling somewhat dazed.
The redhead smirked. "Do you want to have a reason to concern yourself with my night life?"
"Mr. Groupie King is willing to take himself off the market?"
"Mm... Just don't tell anyone. I have a rep to protect. If anyone asks, I'm going to tell them I was at knifepoint and you suggested it."
The brunette chuckled at that mental image. "Yeah. 'Cause I'm obviously so beefcake that I can overpower you."
"Obviously..... So?"
Making an exaggerated show of thinking on the answer, Faith wrapped her arms about his broad chest and smiled.
"I suppose."
"You suppose. Well, while you're busy supposing I'm going to fix that hand. Unless of course you're gonna run off when my back is turned."
"I guess you'll know if I do or not when you turn back around, Doctor Hwoarang."
Letting out a snort of amusement, the biker slid his hands down to grasp her backside.
"Just a paramedic right now. We'll play doctor later."
"Hwoarang!"
Her squeal of protesting laughter and his victorious chuckling echoed out of the small office and into the spacious training area of the dojang.
En route to a meeting with a military officer about the recent recruiting, Baek felt a sudden twinge of foreboding.
Chalking it up to the upcoming meeting, he settled back down into the passenger seat of the cab and tried to shake the feeling.
Still, he'd have lecture Hwoarang on the rules of dojang etiquette again. Just in case.
There is one more chapter to this. It's an epilogue, and it should hopefully be posted soon. :)