Author's Note: Hey guys! I usually try to stay away from Author's Notes or any blurbs, but I just wanted to say this chapter requires some knowledge of Hwoarang's and Xiaoyu's move lists. If you're completely lost, YouTube is the way to go ^_^. Also, just a real quick and sincere 'thank-you' for those who have been reading and reviewing. It really encourages me to continue! Okay back to the story...
Hwoarang doesn't sleep much. He keeps turning restlessly under the sheets, being picked on by anxiety and stress. After an hour of nothing, he finally gives up the idea of good night's rest and draws the sheets back in one quick motion.
"Dammit," he mutters to himself, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. His phone reads 10:30 pm, the moonlight still, shaped in all sorts of angles across the carpet. He presses the heel of his palms into his eyes and rises from the bed, annoyed by the lack of sleep he's been getting. Lately, it's been an hour or two whenever he can get it, or not at all.
Before it had been so easy; Xiaoyu's laughter, Jin's practical jokes and the long list of bets they had going. When the demon would come, they faced it together. They always got Jin to a safe place in time or locked him in a room. But that cursed day changed everything. Now they are all… whatever they are. It pisses Hwoarang off to see Xiaoyu the way she is, plagued and obsessed with finding Jin. Sometimes he's angry with Jin for leaving, other times he's angry with Xiaoyu for caring so damn much, but most of the time he's mad at himself for not being able to prevent when he saw it coming. How did they get so far down the rabbit hole? It's like they haven't seen the light of day for months.
And Jin going to see Zafina? As much as Hwoarang doesn't like it, he knows if anyone can help, it's her.
Hwoarang goes to the window, pushing his palm against the cold glass and looking over the front entrance of the estate. The night is quiet, the moon a wide, bright presence in the sky, security on regular patrol. But then there is a flash of orange that moves suddenly from the front entryway to a cluster of shrubs. And then again, a neon blur moving from one bush to another.
"Seriously?" Hwoarang pinches the bridge of his nose with frustration. He doesn't have to look twice to know who it is. Why can't she just listen? He bangs the glass then steps into his boots, grabs his jacket, keys, and helmet. He jogs down the stairs and out the door, the chill night air meeting his face.
"Xiaoyu," he calls out, greatly annoyed, "Come out."
There is a moment of silence and Hwoarang rolls his eyes, heading for the bush. Before he can reach in and grab her, Xiaoyu comes out, wide-eyed and caught.
"How'd you know?" she whispers innocently.
He motions over his shoulder at the balcony to his room. "Windows are made of glass, go figure. This is why I have to watch you like a child."
Xiaoyu scoffs. "I'm not a child!"
His voice has an edge to it. "No? Adults don't sneak out late at night. What the hell are you doing?"
She stands up, brushing off the small branches that have clung to her light jeans. Her eyes are darkened from lack of sleep, her skin a lifeless, dull hue. "I'm done waiting for you guys. I'm going to find Jin, and I'm going to find him now."
Hwoarang folds his arms. "Go ahead, amuse me. What are you going to do?"
"I don't know - not sit here waiting for Jin to pack up and leave. Who knows how long he's going to stay there!"
"Which apartment complex is he in, Ling? Do you have any sort of plan? What happens if he doesn't want to come back-"
"He'll come back-"
"Will you drag him across the city, or no - I've got it. You'll awaken the demon and you guys can fly back on his demon wings and-,"
"Ugh!" She shoves Hwoarang in the chest as hard as she can, only causing him to take a single step back. "I am so sick of you! You and everyone else! I'm doing too much! I'm getting ahead of myself! I'm impatient, desperate- Whatever!"
"Hey, relax-," he reaches for her, but she slaps his hands away.
"No! I am DONE with you, Hwoarang! Done! I don't care how dangerous it is, or how late it is, because next thing you know Jin will be gone and we will never be able to find him again!" Tears are coming to her eyes, but she blinks them back. "And not going to sit around and wait until that happens."
His mouth falls open, but no words come out. Xiaoyu has never yelled at him like that before. Her eyes are wild with anger as she her chest heaves to catch her breath, the silence engulfing them. She is falling apart right before his eyes.
"Everything alright," a guard on patrol asks, coming up the walkway. He shines the flashlight in their faces and then, after realizing who they are, steps aside.
"We're fine," Xiaoyu snaps, turning her hard stare back to Hwoarang. "Now, you can either come, or stay here. I don't care anymore. I will do it on my own."
Hwoarang scratches the back of his head, still stunned. He doesn't think they should go at night, but there's no way in hell he's letting Xiaoyu go out alone.
"We can take the bike," he mutters, walking past her down the walkway.
Xiaoyu doesn't grin or reply or anything. She tells the guard to leave gate open and follows Hwoarang toward his motorcycle.
Meanwhile…
Jin is busy in the kitchen making a turkey sandwich with all the works. Lettuce, tomato, mayo, mustard, ketchup, pickles, onions, american cheese, swiss cheese, bacon. Name it, and it's on his sandwich. It feels like days since Jin has eaten, but it's only been a few hours. The potion Zafina gave him has been curbing his appetite to say the least, a side effect she failed to mention. He's already run through half his groceries. The fridge will be empty come morning.
He finishes making the sandwich and wraps it in a paper towel, licking of the excess Dijon mustard off the side of his pinky. So far, the potion is working. He hasn't heard so much as a whisper from the demon. He doesn't even feel like thinking about it. For once in a very long time, his thoughts are... normal.
He takes his sandwich and sits against the wall of his empty living room. He hasn't had the time to move in furniture. Plus, he doesn't really need it. It would just get ripped up with the change anyway, like the four sets of sheets he's gone through in the past two weeks alone, and the clothes he can't even begin to count.
There's a soft knock on the wall and Jin stiffens, sitting the sandwich in his lap. There is another knock followed by a faint Psssst.
"Mr. Neighbor?" Kiku's voice ripples through the vents and Jin leans back against the hardwood floor until his body is parallel with the wall, his ear lined up with the metal grate.
"Mr. Neighbor," she whispers again. "You there?"
"I'm here." He responds, his deep voice swallowing hers whole.
"Hi! Can you- can you hear me okay?"
Jin smiles a little. "I sure can."
"Good! I can't be loud. My mom and Avery are in the kitchen."
"Okay, we'll be quiet then."
They park in front of the bank and Hwoarang jumps off his bike, yanking off his helmet. "Alright, you're the captain. Have at it."
The street is surprisingly quiet. The sidewalks and alleyways are decorated with litter, and a few homeless people lay on bus benches and between buildings fast asleep. There doesn't seem to be trouble, but for some reason this only intensifies Xiaoyu's uncertainties.
"We read the names in each lobby directory.," Xiaoyu tells him. "If we don't see Jin's name, we go door to door to the rooms that don't have name labels."
"And the ones that don't have directories at all?" Hwoarang stands next to her on the sidewalk, pulling the fingerless gloves from his hands.
"We'll save those for last, and we'll have to go every door." She gives him a wide, overly hopeful grin, hoping he doesn't protest. He only sighs, a bit reluctantly, and claps his hands together.
"And you want to do this at 10:30 at night? In this neighborhood?"
"Hwoarang," she warns, her smile still spread across her face. She feels a bit guilty lashing out on Hwoarang the way she did back at the estate, but glad that he decided to come with her. She shakes her index finger at him. "No complaining, remember?"
His voice is high pitched and playful, ruffling his hair with the tips of his fingers. "No, I'm not complaining. Not at all. Just warming up to the fact that I'm about to get cussed out."
Xiaoyu shakes her head, moving toward the first building. "We won't get cussed out."
"You obviously don't know this area. We are going to get cussed out."
"And then Katie, she invited me to her birthday party, but I think it's only because I have so many friendship bracelets." Kiku explains passionately. "She probably wants one, she always asks about them."
Jin smiles, content with just listening to Kiku talk about school, and friends, and whatever comes to her little mind. He closes his eyes and let's his mind drift on the waves of her small voice, taking him to a place far away from the demon. It's a nice change.
"Hey, Mr. Neighbor?"
"Hmm?"
She hesitates a bit. "Why don't you have any friendship bracelets? Don't you have any friends?"
Jin's eyes slowly open. "I do."
"Well, I've never seen them, come around I mean."
He sighs. He doesn't want to tell Kiku how he abandoned his friends. He doesn't want to explain how it was an act to protect them, not to leave them behind. He thinks of Hwoarang, probably pissed that Jin left without paying $30 on a bet he lost that week. And Ellie, how Jin vanished without leaving detailed business instructions for her to correct and follow.
And Xiaoyu. His eyes shut again, thinking about how he left Xiaoyu. Her unanswered texts on his phone, pleading for him to stay. How he had to throw his phone out so he couldn't be found by GPS, severing contact with her for good. He thought of calling from the payphone just outside, almost everyday, just to tell her that he's okay, but it would have been too hard. It's just better if they don't talk at all, so Xiaoyu can move on without him, and he can learn to live with his demon.
But he knows he hurt her the most.
She was the hardest to leave.
He remembers the last time they were all together, happily together. They had all went bowling downtown. Hwoarang and Jin split a pitcher of beer and bought burgers and fries for the table. Hwoarang, of course, bet that he'd bowl a better game, and it was on. Xiaoyu and Ellie taunted the guys, encouraging the bet like they always do. Xiaoyu tried to keep up with them, but she was the worst bowler Jin had ever seen. Terrible, was putting it lightly. He had tried to help her with her swing, but she must have dropped the ball like twelve times, almost on his foot. But she just kept laughing. Why? Jin can't remember what was so funny. And Xiaoyu, she has one of those contagious laughs that floats through the room like an airborne plague. Before he knew it, Jin was cracking up too. He couldn't help it. Both of them, tears in their eyes, clutching onto their stomachs. To everyone else, they must have looked like maniacs, but to them, it made sense.
"My friends," Jin finally says. "They are the best kind of friends someone like me can have."
"Oh! I want to meet them then. Can I?"
"One day, Kiku. One day you will."
Not only do Hwoarang and Xiaoyu get cussed out, but yelled at, threatened and almost spit on.
"Now get the hell outta here before I call the cops on your ass!" a tenant roars with a slam of the door. Hwoarang leans against the wall and picks at his nails.
"I think that's the nicest response we've gotten so far." he tells her, which sounds more like a jeer. "I'm telling you they'll be much nicer in the daylight."
Xiaoyu presses her back against the wall and slides down to the floor. With her short legs sprawled out in front of her, she runs her palms over her face, glancing up at Hwoarang. "I just want to find him, you know? I know I keep saying that, but..."
Hwoarang squats down in front of her, and she meets his hazel eyes that seem softer than normal. His lips part and then close again as if he's trying to find the right words to say.
"I know." He offers her a small smile. "I've been such an asshole. And I know I've been giving you the hardest time I possibly can." He reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind Xiaoyu's ear, his voice strangely warm. "If I'm being honest, it's because I'm angry."
"Because you want to find Jin?"
He smiles. "That and because you're a better friend than I am."
Xiaoyu shakes her head. "I don't get it."
"You're the one that got us all out here looking for Jin. You're the one who started searching the day he left. You're the one who won't- who refuses to give up on him. I've done nothing but follow your lead, resisting as much as I can." Xiaoyu opens her mouth to disagree but Hwoarang raises his hand to stop her as he continues. "I know he needs us… I know. I just think if he had nothing but friends like me, he'd be gone forever."
"The funny thing about looking for Jin is, he doesn't just need us. We need him too, and… we need each other." She gets to her feet, brushing off her pants. "And we may need to also stick to investigating in the daylight."
Hwoarang smiles and so does Xiaoyu. "Does that mean we can go home now?"
"Yeah, let's go. I'm pretty sure we have a few hours before Jin tries to take off."
They take the stairs down to exit the complex, but the man that waits for them outside stops both of them in their tracks and Hwoarang, with a primal brotherly instinct, urgently thrusts Xiaoyu behind him.
"You!" Xiaoyu seethes at the same time Hwoarang growls, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Looking for Jin, of course. Looks like I'm on the right track," the man says with an inhale of his cigarette. The man is Kazuya Mishima.
Something is wrong. Jin feels it immediately, the air shifting around him like it's closing him in. He sits up, his eyes searching critically around his empty apartment. He sees nothing. He hears nothing.
"Mr. Neighbor? Are you listening to me?" Kiku, who had asked him a question several moments ago, whispers.
"Hold on, Kiku."
He stands and goes for the kitchen faucet, taking a drink from his palm and splashing his face with water. His breaths are rapid, uncontrolled and he doesn't know why. He grabs the two vials from the kitchen counter, just in case, and sits back down by the vents. It's probably nothing, but that assumption doesn't sit well with him. It feels as though there is a source of power somewhere nearby, a great power, a menacing power.
"Kiku?"
"I'm here, are you okay?" she asks.
He pulls the top from the green calming potion and takes a swig. He feels the coolness rush through his body, but it doesn't seem to calm his nerves.
Let me out… You know you want to let me out.
"No." He clutches the potions so tight in his hand he thinks he may crush them. The demon, he feels it coming, the whispers starting to lace his thoughts, and a nervous sweat starting to film over his skin.
"No what?" Kiku asks.
"Kiku," he says hurriedly. "I need you to go to your bedroom and wait there, okay?"
"Why?" Her voice is thick with worry. "Is it happening again?"
He trembles, setting the potions down to massage his calloused palm. He pushes his thumb back and forth until it hurts. He wills it to go away, but he feels it coming with an unrelenting force. "Yes, it's happening."
Hwoarang and Xiaoyu stay frozen in place as Kazuya Mishima takes another long drag of his cigarette. He is dressed in a tailored black suit, polished black shoes, and black gloves. Only the red scarf draped around his neck brings him color to go along with the glow of his red eye.
The corner of his mouth tilts up into a hauntingly scary smile, his eyes focused on the two of them. "Jin is close. I can feel his power."
"You're not going to get anywhere near him!" Hwoarang seethes, keeping Xiaoyu behind him. He'd kill Kazuya right now with his bare hands, if he could. "You stay the hell away from him."
"I think there has been a mistake," Kazuya says, his voice low and controlled, no different than if he were talking about the weather. The flickering streetlamp above only illuminates half Kazuya's face, leaving the other half mysteriously in the shadows. "I don't mean any harm."
"Liar!" Xiaoyu screams.
Kazuya drops the cigarette and snuffs it out with the toe of his shoe. "Hwoarang, please do try to keep your bitch on a leash."
Xiaoyu, overcome with rage, tries to charge at him but Hwoarang throws his arms around her, keeping her back from Kazuya. Kazuya doesn't even flinch.
"We don't want him changing into the demon," Hwoarang says in her ear. And he's right. Releasing Kazuya's demon would be a terrible outcome. They wouldn't make it out alive.
"No," Kazuya agrees with a smile, checking his watch. He snaps and handful of Kazuya's men come from the alleyways on each side of the building. "And I anger terribly easy. Runs in the family, I'm afraid, but you already know that."
"Kazuya, what - do - you - want?" Hwoarang settles Xiaoyu behind him again.
"To help my son, just like you do. I want to extract the devil gene."
"It's not possible. Jin has spent a fortune to discover a way, and haven't you already tried?"
"Using scientific methods," Kazuya explains easily. "This is a bit more… unorthodox. Now that I have the proper...materials, all I need in Jin."
"We would never give Jin over to you!" Xiaoyu says. Her nails dig deep into her clenched fists, knuckles a ghostly white.
Kazuya's laugh is deep and crazed. "Jin is not yours to give. You don't even know where he is?"
"It doesn't matter," Hwoarang spits. "You'll never get a hold of him. Jin may want to get rid of the gene, but he would never give it over to you. Nothing good can come of it."
"Boy, you couldn't even imagine what I have in store. But I'll tell you what," Kazuya takes a step forward and Hwoarang and Xiaoyu instinctively take a step back. Kazuya raises his hands as if to surrender, clearly finding the two of them amusing. "I'll leave you two alone for now, but when you find Jin, please do tell him I'm looking for him, and that I have… the cure."
"It's not a cure," Xiaoyu snaps. "It's a trap."
"Believe what you want, just get him the message. He can't stay 'Mr. Neighbor' forever."
Hwoarang and Xiaoyu exchange a puzzled glance, neither of them knowing what Kazuya means as he backs away with his hands comfortably in his suit pockets. He starts to casually stroll down the street.
"Mr. Neighbor?" Hwoarang asks Xiaoyu. She just shrugs her shoulders.
"Oh," Kazuya turns back briefly. "It's far too dangerous and dark to be out at this hour. Won't Asuka be worried? And what's her name, Hwoarang? Ellie? We wouldn't want to get her involved, now would we, son?" He laughs then instructs to his men, "Get them out of here."
He vanishes down the street, leaving his men behind. They crack their knuckles as snicker as they start to surround Hwoarang and Xiaoyu.
"What do we do?" Xiaoyu whispers, her fists still clenched tightly. There is at least eight of them. Hwoarang loosens up his shoulders up a bit, jumping in place to relax his long legs as his eyes graze over each of them.
"We fight our way out of here."
"Mr. Neighbor? Do you need help?"
"No, Kiku, no," Jin pants. His skin begins to crawl, feeling like millions of tiny bugs are just under his skin, the whispers growing so loud it sounds like they are in the room with him. He knocks the back of his head against the wall repeatedly, worry and despair in his eyes as he pleads to any higher being that will listen. "No, no, no, no, no, no. Not now. Please, give me control. Please, keep it away."
His plea goes unanswered.
He doesn't have a choice. He reaches for the red vial, knocking it over with his trembling hand and then scrambling to pick it up. He is like a junkie needing a fix as he struggles to keep the vial steady in his hand long enough to get the top off. He lets out a deep, painful groan as his skin starts to sizzle, the design of the tattoos shining a bright red-orange like coals all over his torso, the sound like crackling fire. He has to do this now. He yanks the top from the vial, emptying all the contents down his throat.
Unlike the coolness of the green potion, the red burns like acid down his throat. He chokes, clutching his throat and falling on his side. His body burns, inside and out, and the tattoos fully appear in a scorching, permanent black pattern. He can feel his eyes shift, magnifying his vision like a microscope, now able to see everything from the thousand droplets of sweat on his skin to the fibers in the air. It's not working. The bones in his back fracture and shift to make room for his wings. He screams through clenched teeth, arching over and then suddenly... he feels nothing.
What is happening to him?
From his side, Jin rolls onto his back, his arms outstretched on either side of him. The bulb hanging from the ceiling is blinding to his sensitive eyes, but he can't look away, as if it's some kind of angel who has come to save him. The voices is his head are a tangled mess, though one stands out in particular, Xiaoyu: Jin you can't do this alone. I am going to help you.
"Xiaoyu," his mouth barely moves to say her name, and just as quickly, her voice is gone, lost in the sea of whispers. Is he dying? Is it working? He hears another, faint and far away like a call though a tiny seashell.
Kiku.
Mr. Neighbor, it's going to be okay. I'll stay with you until you feel better.
His mind latches on to her voice, his eyes finally adjusting to the white light. Slowly, her voice becomes louder than the others, but still distant. He can't move, paralyzed in place. He feels nothing, can see nothing but the light, can hear nothing but Kiku's voice...
"We've got this, Ling," Hwoarang assures her over his shoulder, bringing his fists up to fight.
"Okay. You take the high," she says, slipping into her crouching phoenix, "I've got the low."
Kazuya's men come at them all at once.
With a quick series of left kicks, Hwoarang takes out the First easily while Xiaoyu's Phoenix Canon sends the Second guy flying into the wall. The Third comes barreling at Hwoarang, knocking him into a cluster of trash cans. They wrestle around in the trash, trying to get on top of the other. but the Third makes it on top first, grabbing Hwoarang by the throat, squeezing tightly around Hwoarang's neck. Hwoarang can feel his face grow swollen with blood as he tries to breathe. Struggling to move, he jolts his knee up hard, smashing The Third in the groin. The Third howls in pain, coiling over beside Hwoarang to grab his stuff. Hwoarang serves a hard right elbow in The Third's face, knocking him out.
"You might want to ice that later," Hwoarang advises as he gets up, but before he can get to his feet, The Fourth hooks him in the eye and he staggers back to the ground. Bastard, Hwoarang thinks, driving the heel of his boot into the guy's shin, and then the knee, and then the stomach. The fourth collapses like a practice dummy, crying out that his legs are broken. Hwoarang smirks.
He quickly flips up to help Xiaoyu with The Fifth. He runs over and kicks The Fifth directly in the chest, and Xiaoyu finishes up with a sweep that lands his back on the concrete.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this. He has hasn't had a good fight in a long time, and there's nothing like a good old fashioned street brawl. They fight well, Xiaoyu holding her own against Kazuya's men. Maybe this will be the release they need and score him a good night's rest.
Five down, four left.
Hwoarang and Xiaoyu exchange glances, understanding each other; they both will take two. The two of them and Kazuya's men clash together like two sides of a war. Hwoarang's legs are like a flash of cowboy talons. Only visible when they make contact with the enemy either on the chest, back, or face. Xiaoyu, though not as fast as Hwoarang, fights smart and fluid, like the steps of a ceremonial dance. She sways and pirouettes around one of the last of Kazuya's men, landing her shot in where she can. Xiaoyu knows she's not as strong as everyone else, so she must rely on movement.
While going in for another kick, The Sixth catches Xiaoyu's leg just in front of his chest, but she just uses it to catapult herself into the air, bringing her foot around to slam him in the face. He goes flying and she waves goodbye. She pivots on her foot, just in time to knockout The Seventh with a series of Sunset Fans, but he is quick and she misses completely as he strikes her hard in the jaw. She teeters a bit, her lip feeling like it has exploded open and tasting the bitter metallic of blood in her mouth, but she pushes through it, crouching back into her Phoenix.
"My little geisha," The Seventh taunts her, hungrily licking his lips. Xiaoyu's eyes narrow into tiny slits. He has just sealed his fate. With all the power she can gather, she charges at him and strikes him with a Phoenix Double Palm while Hwoarang finishes off his last opponent with a Dynamite Heel.
"I'm Chinese, genius," she huffs as he goes down. He's the last. She and Hwoarang pant heavily as Kazuya's men lay before their feet, twisting and curling over in pain. Another handful of Kazuya's men come into view far down the street, walking their way.
"As much as I'm loving this, we need to go," Hwoarang tells her with a bloody smile, wiping the side of his face. "Now!"
She reaches for her own bloody lip, which stings to the touch.
"Let's go."
Meanwhile, Jin's body is still, lifeless on the floor of his empty apartment, the ceiling lamp overhead shining light on his pale face. Anyone who saw him would think he's dead, his eyes wired open with a blank stare, dark sunken eyelids. His fingers twitch, the way nerves that can't be controlled do as the empty potion bottle cradles itself in his rough palm. Steam rises from his chest, as if something was once there that isn't anymore, something that has been lifted. The presence of darkness is gone and the only sound that can be heard is a little girl's whimper through the vents.
"Mr. Neighbor, please be okay."