A/N: First thing's first because I should have done this in the notes before the last chapter, TheMessangerVIII on DeviantArt, who does the most adorable art I've ever seen, drew some scenes from Monochrome. I've linked it in my profile, so please go look, it's just about the cutest thing ever and I am still squeeing over it!
So, here's the last of the quick updates. Thanks for the reviews for the previous chapter, as always! I'm so grateful that you're all still reading and letting me know what you think even though this fic has been going on so long, it's really awesome to know you like how I write these characters and this story. And thanks for pointing out that missed full stop, Razer! Right at the beginning of the chapter as well, gah! Self, I am disappoint. Grace Yu, sorry there's no Jin in this chapter, but he'll be back soon, promise! A Tekken 6 story you say? Hmm, well I'm not keen on writing a Tekken 5 one because of the silly time machine thing, but maybe I could do something based around Tekken 6. I'll be writing a short epilogue for this one, anyway, so watch out for that after this fic's all done. Still got a few chapters to go though! Hope you guys enjoy this one.
NEVER EVER
I wanted to say I love you
I couldn't say I love you
But I feel like that was
My biggest lie and yet the truth.
Chapter Twenty Five: Division
"Have fun, did we?"
Hwoarang doesn't answer, but I can tell by the tenseness in his body that he's not too happy about the whole situation. Maybe he is worried about what'll happen to him after all. There's no getting out of this now though, four soldiers with four guns, and while Hwo might fare just fine without use of his hands, I really don't fancy my chances. It's not worth the risk to try.
It's the soldier who's escorting me who spoke up. Upon receiving no reply to his question, he shrugs, takes out a cigarette and flicks his lighter a couple of times, trying to get a steady flame to no avail.
"Aw, fuck. Hey, Hwoarang, you got a light?"
He sounds as nonchalant as if he's making the request outside a pub rather than while dragging a fellow soldier to a court martial.
"Yeah, Jung, 'cause I could really get it for you if I did."
"Oh, forgot about the cuffs. Guess I can hardly stick my hands in your pockets either, you don't seem to be in the mood for that." Jung sounds far more amused than I feel.
Hwoarang makes a dismissive noise, and we carry on in silence for a while, the snow still drifting around us, heavier than before. It brushes against my cheeks and lands on my eyelashes, and I try my best to blink it away before it melts.
"So. You're Xiao, huh?"
I flash him a glare, not too happy about this complete stranger using my nickname. Especially not when he's got me in handcuffs, which, by the way, why? I didn't run out on the army.
"Don't call me that. It's Ling Xiaoyu."
"Yeah, I thought so." He takes absolutely zero notice of my hostility. "Recognised you from that photo. The chick with the red hair not here then?"
"No. She doesn't fight." Well, apart from that one time last year when we were shopping in the sales and some woman picked up the last pair of raffia sandals in her size. If I'd not distracted her with a pair of leopard print ballet pumps I swear there'd have been blood spilled.
"Too bad, I always liked the look of her."
I smile despite myself, imagining how Miharu would react to this guy. He's not bad looking, and I discovered she has a weakness for army boys when we used to check the papers for any mention of the Korean military.
It feels a bit weird, engaging in polite conversation with Jung, but there's something about him that's more likeable than the other three. They're silent, stern, disapproving, but this guy's here chatting away like nothing's wrong.
"Sorry about the 'cuffs, but you're what we call insurance. Can't have him trying to run off again can we? Kinda sucks for you that we've gotta take you back with us for questioning though. Hope you're not in the finals 'cause it's gonna take a while."
"What if I am in the finals?" I ask, thinking of Jin with despair. How am I supposed to help him if I'm stuck getting questioned by these guys? And for what? Helping Hwoarang go AWOL? I didn't even have a clue about it until today. I'm just an innocent bystander in all of this. It's so unfair.
Jung doesn't answer, and I sigh. I'm still angry with Hwo, and I know he told me that if I had the chance I should escape... but if I do go with them, maybe I could help him out. I dunno, put in a good word for him or something. Plead with them not to be too harsh, tell them I put him up to it.
For another moment, Jung stays quiet, as though considering something, and he slows his pace a little.
"Your hands are really small..." he observes, lowering his voice. I blink at him like an idiot, wondering what the hell he's getting at, until he slides his forefinger between one of the handcuffs and my wrist. I hadn't even noticed how loose they were until now.
Suddenly, one of the soldiers shouts over his shoulder for Jung to 'get a fucking move on', and he shrugs and grins, hurrying me along until we've almost caught up with the others. We're getting close to the gates that lead back to other arenas and the gardens of the hotel, and I know it won't be long until we rejoin the waiting soldiers. Hwoarang hasn't said a word, and my stomach begins to tie itself in anxious knots. My mind is racing to think of some way we can both escape this situation, even though my rational side knows there's pretty much no way out. I'm suddenly aware of cold metal pressing against the back of my thigh, and I glance downwards, hardly daring to breathe.
It's Jung's handgun. He flicks his gaze over to Hwoarang and back to me.
"Listen, I owe him a favour. Gotta wonder if I put those handcuffs on tight enough." he whispers pointedly, and I get the hint this time. It's surprisingly easy to slip one hand out of the restraints, and he shoves the gun into my grasp.
"Don't really shoot me. The safety's off."
I glance at the other soldiers, but they don't seem to have heard. They're deep in conversation, something to do with manoeuvers.
"Oh, and don't try and get 'em to let him go. Knowing those guys, they'll probably just shoot you in the leg or something and then you'd be back to square one. But, y'know, in a bit more pain."
"But..."
"We'll talk more in a minute." he hisses. "Do it."
The gun's cold and heavy in my hand, and I'm reminded of two years ago, when I ran away from Toshin, leaving Hwoarang to face it by himself. I know it's not exactly the same thing, but regardless of that, and regardless of what Hwoarang said earlier, I still feel sick with guilt as I quickly sweep Jung's feet from under him, whipping the gun forward with shaky hands and aiming it as best I can. He crashes to the floor as though I attacked him at full strength, doing quite a convincing job of looking like he's in pain.
"Argh, fuck!" he cries, and for a moment my eyes meet Hwoarang's before the sound of a safety catch clicking off reminds me that Jung wasn't joking about the other guys. I tear my gaze away, whirl around and take off back down the path, then realise how much of an easy target I'm making myself by running in a straight line and make a sudden turn, crashing through the foliage as bullets slam into the ground where my feet were a split second before.
"She's got my gun!" Jung whines, and one of his colleagues snarls an angry order to him to go retrieve it, and me.
As I splash through muddy water and knock branches away for the second time today, there's a strange sensation of relief mixing with the adrenaline surging through my blood. Relief because during that fleeting moment when our eyes met, I felt as though there were some kind of unspoken exchange between me and Hwoarang. It might sound like wishful thinking, but I swear I saw definite reassurance in his expression before I turned and fled, that he really meant what he said before.
"You really need to work on choosing better hiding places." Jung comments, grabbing my wrist and yanking me to my feet with a grunt. I quickly pull my hand from his grasp and sit down on the fallen tree trunk I'd been hiding under. Yeah, the same one as last time. I figured no one would think anyone would be stupid enough to use the same place twice. Obviously this guy didn't give me that much credit.
"What's gonna happen to Hwoarang?" I demand, and he sits down next to me, taking his pack off and propping his feet up on it.
"Dunno. Prison or a fine, probably. That's how these things usually go."
"But they won't put him in front of a firing squad, right?"
Jung fixes me with a disbelieving stare, then starts to laugh.
"Think someone's been watchin' too many old movies." He leans back, looking up into the snow. "Mind you, he said you were like that. Always overreactin' and shit."
Breathing a sigh of relief, I brush snowflakes from my face.
"Did... did he talk about me and Miharu much then?"
"Yeah. The last few weeks before he took off, you especially."
"Oh." I stare down at my hands, now clasped in my lap. "One of his reasons for leaving, then..."
"How about you were his main reason for leaving? By the way, don't suppose you've got a light?" He sounds exasperated, restlessly shuffling the cigarettes around in the packet. I shake my head.
"How do you know that's what his main reason was?" I ask, fumbling for another way to rationalise it, feeling as though someone's grabbed my heart and twisted it out as I go over our earlier conversation. He just about told me when we were hiding together, and I didn't even see it.
"You know he only had a couple of months left? All he had to do was sit tight, keep his head down." He puts the cigarettes away. "But nah, he decided he needed to see you, and that was that, no way anyone was gonna change his mind. I was like, 'come on, I haven't seen my girlfriend in ages either, wait it out!' But..."
Jung takes out his lighter and tries it again. It sparks weakly and dies out, and he tosses it into the undergrowth with an annoyed sigh.
"Fuckin' thing. What was I saying? Oh yeah, I did get to write to my girl I guess. And call her a few times. Dunno why I bothered cos she just bitched me out, but... yeah."
"I'm not his girlfriend." I say tonelessly, still staring at my hands, my whole body numb from cold. "Did he... did he tell you I-"
"Nah, I know you're not. He never said you were, but..."
Jung trails off, looking at me in alarm. I can feel warm tears tracing their way down my face.
"Hey, don't do that. I suck at dealing with crying girls. Turn the other way or something, you're makin' me uncomfortable."
His radio crackles to life, a voice on the other end demanding a report. It sounds like the soldier who sent him after me, but it's so fizzy it's hard to tell.
"Nope, not found her yet, but thanks for alerting anyone who's hiding in a ten mile radius to my presence, boss."
He puts the radio down, ignoring the irate reply from the other soldier, hops to his feet and kneels down next to his pack, unzipping it and rifling through. I wipe my sleeve across my eyes.
I want to just curl up in our hiding place and cry, regardless of however much of an overreaction that would be. I've been so absorbed in myself and Jin until now that I've hardly ever noticed anyone else's feelings. Hwoarang's always been there to help me, whether it's by making me smile or putting his arm around me or even just sitting and listening to me when I'm so sad that even his silly comments don't help. What have I done in return? Oh yeah; whined at him about how much I love Jin, and how much I want to help Jin, and how Jin confuses me, and Jin Jin Jin Jin Jin. And Hwo never once told me to shut up about him, he'd just tease me and I'd feel better.
"What's with the crying anyway?" Jung asks, still rummaging around in the pack. "I know Hwoarang can be a utter dick sometimes, but surely the idea of being his girlfriend isn't that horrifying."
It's a lame joke, but I appreciate the effort to cheer me up a little.
"He did it with Miharu too..." I say, not really talking to Jung, thinking about how he'd flirt with us both when we all sat together in the common room between lessons.
"Fuck, I'd do it with Miharu." He finally pulls a zippo lighter and a bundle of papers out of one of the zip pockets of the pack and gives a pleased little sigh of relief.
"How was I supposed to know there was anything behind it when he did it with us both?"
"Uh, what? Was there some kind of threesome thing going on between you guys?" He stares at me, wide eyed, cigarette halfway to his mouth, and I can't tell whether he's joking or not. "Gotta say, you don't look like the sort to be into that, but it's always the innocent looking ones, I guess."
My face heats up and I scowl at him.
"Of course there wasn't! And in what universe is it okay to be so interested in the sex life of someone you don't even know, anyway?"
"Chill, I was just playing." he laughs. I shake my head, annoyance fading. "Before I forget, here."
Jung shoves the bundle of papers at me, and I automatically take them, eyeing him with curiosity.
"Me and the girlfriend're always fighting. Couple of weeks ago she says we're through and sends all my letters back to me. Those included. 'Why I should do favours for any of your buddies is beyond me' she says." He puts a whiny voice on for the last part. "Brought 'em along 'cause I was gonna give em back to Hwoarang, but they were meant for you anyway, right? I don't think she read 'em, so if there's any references to your crazy threesomes, don't worry."
All I can do is stare at him like a moron.
"Anyway, they've gotta be getting suspicious by now." Jung lights his cigarette and takes a long, lazy drag, closing his eyes and breathing the smoke out into the snowy air with a groan of satisfaction. "Ah, I needed that..." he murmurs. "What a day. Hey, you've still got my gun, right?"
I pick it up gingerly and hand it over, and he aims it at the ground and fires once, making me give a violent start. He smiles and nods to himself, clicks the safety on and shoves the gun into its holster, and the radio fizzes to life again, an angry voice demanding why a shot was fired.
"Me and the girl had an, uh, altercation, Sir." Jung flashes me a grin as he hoists his pack back on. "Had a bit of a scuffle and the gun went off. I got it back, but... um, she's kinda getting away. Should I go after her again?"
"How can you be stupid enough to ask that?" the voice splutters. "You've just given away our position to the Zaibatsu, you fuckin' idiot! For God's sake, just forget about her and get back here!"
"I apologise, Sir." He doesn't sound in the slightest bit sincere. "Sounds like we're leaving." he says to me. "Don't worry about Hwoarang. I'm sure he'll be able to use the prison phone at some point."
Before his remark registers in my head, Jung's already running back the way he came, the footprints in the thin layer of snow the only sign he was ever there after his footsteps fade away.
We believed we'd found
One thing that wouldn't change
And as we felt it change
We took one step apart.
- Together When, Ayumi Hamasaki