A/N: Thank you so much to those of you that reviewed the last chapter! I'm glad you're still reading, even though I take aaaages to update, haha. Oh yeah, to answer your question Dreaming Sapphire, in Tekken 4, Lee Chaolan disguised himself as Violet. :)

I wanted to update at least once more this year, luckily when I took a look through my files, most of this was already written and just needed polishing up a tad. So here it is. I hope you enjoy it, and as always, I'd be really grateful if you let me know your thoughts on the chapter, and feel free to point out any mistakes I need to fix.

NEVER EVER

There will always be
One person who needs you
That person who needs you
Will surely always be
Smiling by your side.

Chapter Eighteen: Realisation

I ride the brightly lit elevator back to the ground floor, leaning against the wall and trying to ignore the insistent pain spiking its way through my whole body. Well, probably not my whole body. My fingers and toes are relatively pain-free, if I'm honest. Gotta look on the bright side, right?

I look up, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror above the control panel and wince. My face is red and blotchy, probably with the beginnings of bruises, my eyes bloodshot from crying, and there's a semi-dry trail of blood across my cheek and down my neck. The hair that came loose from my ponytail during the fight is matted with it. Miraculously, my nose is still in one piece after Violet slammed my face into the floor, so I'm thankful for that, but still, it's not a pretty reflection. I really need to clean up. Maybe once I get a shower I'll feel a bit better.

When the doors slide open, I spot Hwoarang a few yards away, arms folded, scowling at the shiny floor tiles as though they've mortally offended him. It doesn't worry me, that's his usual expression whenever he's waiting around for something for more than three seconds, so I'm guessing he figures my match took too long. I smooth my sticky hair behind my ears self-consciously as the elevator chimes and draws his attention to me. His eyes widen and he pushes away from the wall to approach me, and I'm just waiting for him to make some stupid comment about how terrible I look. Like I'm not aware.

"Did you win?"

It even hurts to nod.

"Why'd you let him smack you around so much? You look fucking awful."

Anger flares in my chest and I push past him, biting back a growl of pain when I bump into him with my shoulder. Yeah, not the smartest decision, Xiao.

"Well, not all of us can be as amazing as you." I snap.

"Obviously, judging by the state of you."

I shoot him a poisonous look and try my best to storm off with some sort of dignified air. Probably pretty much impossible when you're limping, but I'll damned well take a stab at it.

"I was joking." Hwoarang sighs, catching up with me. "About the first part anyway..." he adds in a low voice, and if it wasn't likely to hurt me more, I'd hit him. Since I can't, I settle for shrugging off his offers of help and struggle all the way back to the hotel without his support. Which probably hurts me a lot more than it bothers him.

Back in my room, I wash my face and change clothes, pulling on a black vest and the shorts I usually wear for bed, then take a bowl from the shelf in the little kitchenette area and pour some antiseptic into it. I brought a bottle of the stuff with me from home, and the strong scent reminds me of sitting in the kitchen as a kid, crying over whatever scuff or graze I'd got while I was playing outside as my mother made soothing sounds and dabbed at me with cotton wool. Hwoarang sits on the bed and watches me for a while as I sit in the chair in front of the window, trying to clean myself up.

"Wouldn't it be better to go down to the infirmary? I'll go with you if you want."

"Why, is the nurse hot or something?" I snipe, and he arches an eyebrow.

"Not as hot as you were before you washed your face."

I glower at him, and I'm about ready to tell him to either shut the hell up or get the hell out when he walks over and takes the wad of cotton wool from me.

"Let me do it, you'll be here all night."

"I can do it myself." I protest. He totally ignores me, of course, and I don't have the energy to argue.

He's surprisingly gentle as he cleans my scratches and grazes, probably caused by Violet's boots. Mind you, he had a few rings on too come to think of it. Over his gloves and everything. I mean, who does that?

The antiseptic stings a little, but relaxation has settled over me like a comfortable blanket, and I can't drum up the motivation to annoy Hwo by complaining. He's swabbing a graze on my collarbone now, and I watch his face, my irritation at him melting away. He can annoy me like no one else, but he can also cheer me up like no one else. It's always been that way. When I'm feeling sorry for myself, there's no one but him I'd rather be with.

His hand stills and he looks at me questioningly, and I realise I'm smiling.

"Thanks."

"It's only a bit of antiseptic." he grumbles. "Don't let yourself get hit so many times in your next match, save me the trouble."

The familiar sound of my ringing phone saves him from certain death.

Miharu to the rescue.

There's something... some type of memory concerning Xiaoyu that's been dwelling just at the back of my mind for these last few days. Perhaps 'memory' isn't the right choice of word. 'Realisation' might be better. Ever since I met Xiaoyu again, I've faltered. Two years spent building this resolve, only to have it shaken in a single meeting with her. Before I saw her, nothing else mattered other than my purpose for entering the tournament. To put an end to everything, to destroy those who carry this cursed blood. But because of her, I'm losing focus.

So I push her away, then selfishly pull her back.

My mind dwells on possibilities, on what ifs. And ever since she chased after me in the rain and told me she trusted me, I haven't been able shake this nagging feeling that at that instant, some kind of realisation flitted through my mind, and I caught and released it before I had time to really know what it meant. I can't help but wonder if he is the one responsible for that.

I thought I might remember, or at least get a little closer to some type of recollection if I waited for her, spoke with her. Plus, I just wanted to be around her for a while, feel my unease and doubt and fear melt away in the face of her affection and reassurance, and most importantly, her seemingly unshakable belief in me. I sat on a bench and waited for her to walk through the gardens, waited for her to notice me. Now though, I wish she hadn't. For one thing, I remembered nothing, and for another, each time I see her, I wind up doing something I regret. Like kissing her, holding her close, telling her how she makes me feel, reigniting all her hopes that we can be together somehow when I know it isn't possible.

Being apart from her, staying away... that is the only thing I can do to protect her.

That memory you're pursuing... is it down to mere curiosity, or are you trying to uncover a different path to the one that all your dreams have been pointing towards?

Those dreams... I've been desperately hoping that they're just that. Dreams. Nightmares. Not visions of our future. They can't be.

Do you want me to help you?

A mocking tone to his voice, as always.

"Do you expect me to trust you?" I ask out loud.

Do you remember how you felt when you first saw her?

My mistrust of him never seems to prevent me from accepting his help in the end. Maybe that's my biggest problem.

"I... don't know. I couldn't allow myself to be happy to see her. Not here. But she..."

That is not what I meant. Your very first meeting. Looking back on it now, how did you feel?

"...Like she was someone I was supposed to meet. It wasn't long after we met when I first kissed her. Thinking back, I should never have done that. But I couldn't stop myself."

Why was that?

"I was drawn to her. I couldn't escape it. It was like stepping into the sunlight for the first time..."

He doesn't reply. He doesn't need to. His scorn coils around me like smoke.

"I wanted to be with her, around her, anything just to be close to that much warmth again. And he... he was always with her. I wanted..."

You wanted to make sure she focused on you only. All things considered, do you think it was the right thing to do?

"No. She came here because of me. If anything happens..."

Then it will happen... because you succeeded in making her focus on you?

"...Yes."

Why blame yourself? No one lives forever.

"What are you trying to say?"

You're already aware of it. You say the two of you were supposed to meet. That memory you're looking for... I am not keeping it from you. You are keeping it from yourself.

His smile is poison through my veins.

So that you could take that life you are so drawn to. That is why you were supposed to meet. There is no other path, Jin Kazama.

Will you try to believe in a single strand of light?
Or will you fear the darkness?

--- Depend on You, Ayumi Hamasaki