Sakura-chan:"Minna-san! You found your way to one of my Tekken fan-fics!! Great!!" ^_____^

Hwoarang: "Yeah. Great." (reaching down from the windowsill where he sits, he pats the little black dog running around in the house, currently barking at all the strange people surrounding her) *bark, bark*

Sakura-chan:"Mou! What’s wrong Hwoarang? Not happy with the pairing I decided on?" ^.^ (pouts incredibly adorably, sitting by the computer)

Hwoarang: "The hell I am! You paired ME with Jin Kazama!" >_<

Jin: "And do you think I’m jumping with joy?!" (leaning against the doorpost, he frowns at Hwoarang)

Sakura-chan: (prays to the almighty Kami-sama for help in getting the two adorable bishonen to get along) Now, now, boys. Don’t fuss anymore! o.0;

Xiaoyu: (sitting on the little bloomy sofa, she giggles out loud, interrupting the bishonens and the writer. She points to the other fighters who start grinning mischieviously)

Jin/Hwoarang: "Whaaat!"

Everyone: "Bwahahaah!"

Hwoarang: (marches up and ripps the sheaf of papers from the now hysterically giggling fighters, and starts reading at the pages spread in front of him) ....... o,O (his face turns pale white and his cheeks bright pink)

Jin: (annoyed, of course) "What’s wrong! Why don’t you say anything, you moron!" (grabs hold of the sheaf of papers and starts to read where Hwoarang left off) .......o_O >_< (his cheeks turn bright red, and he starts to growl, obviously not too happy)

Paul: "Hey Jin! I always knew you had a thing for Hwoarang!"

Eddie: "Yeah. It really shows when you’re fighting each other. Whoo, aren’t sparks flying!" (sizzle, sizzle...)

Law: (nods, a big grin on his face) ^__^ "Paul... Don’t you think they’re blushing a bit too much not to fancy each other?"

Paul: "They sure do!" (grins widely) ^_____^

Jin: (turns to the three guys, and growls threateningly.>_<

Their grins fade away instantly, and are replaced by dry gulps)

"I won over you in the Tekken Tournament, so don’t you start dogging me around!"

Xiaoyu: (puts a finger to the side of her nose and taps twice) "But you didn’t win over Hwoarang, now did you? You had the chance, but you didn’t. Or... couldn’t you?" ^_~

Jin: ò_Ó;; (scratches the back of his head and stares down into the floor. Blushes...)

Xiaoyu: ~^-^~"Hah! I knew it! How cuuute!" (seizes Jin’s hands and swirls him around)

Hwoarang: "I don’t feel too good..." (clenches to his stomach and sways backwards) "Unnhh..." (sits down on the table as his face turns slightly green)

Xiaoyu: (giggles, and pats Hwoarang on the shoulder) "Don’t worry! As far as I read before you snatched it out of my hands, you seemed to be enjoying yourself..."

Hwoarang: (shouting) "I wasn’t enoying ANYTHING!!!!"

Sakura-chan:(sweatdropping) "Please...Guys... May I get on with the fic already! Ooh! And just so you know, the characters of the Tekken 3 game, do not belong to me *sob*. They all belong to Namco..."

Everybody: "We don’t belong to no one!"

Sakura-chan: (frowns) >_<;; ... ^_^ "Hey you guys, that’s a double negation, so I’d have to say you’re all perfectly right!" (smiles) ^.^

Everyone: "???" o_O;;

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

A Trial of Strength

prologue

By

Sakura-chan

Only a few days before the renowned King of Ironfist Tournament was to take place, Heihachi Mishima, the proud sponsor of the tournament, had set up a training ground for the participants. This training ground was situated not too far away from where the tournament itself was to take place, and if you looked out of the windows, you could see the beautiful temple situated high up on the huge hill. In truth it was a beautiful scenery, but none of the participants was as relaxed as to take a minute to enjoy some stupid temple against the background of a dark red sunset.

In one corner of the huge training ground, which looked more like a huge gym of sorts, Jin Kazama was punching and kicking a big punching bag like a madman.

I will not think of last time.... I will beat him this time too! I have to! he thought fiercely to himself, I shall win the tournament! I shall avenge my mother!!!

He took a brief pause in assaulting the big punching bag, and leaned his head against the big hanging bag already reeking of sweat. If he was going to be able to win this tournament, he had to overcome his biggest obstacle. This obstacle was the young man named Hwoarang, one of the best fighters Jin had ever encountered.

......Or had the pleasure of facing in combat. He took a deep breath and continued his onslaught of the punching bag, now more fiery than before, and this because he couldn’t get the images out of his head. He couldn’t forget about the defeated look on Hwoarang’s face the last time they had fought, and he had lost. Jin just couldn’t forget the hurt look on Hwoarang’s face as he limped away without even the slightest word, and he never wanted to see him like that ever again.

Now, if he was going to win the tournament, he would be forced to fight Hwoarang and win, no matter what it meant. No matter what happened, he was going to win over Hwoarang, whatever it took. But he also knew that Hwoarang was probably the most obstinate of them all, and ever since that fight, he had been training harder than ever to be able to fight Jin.

A rustle from the door leading into the training area, and out to the men’s locker room, made Jin turn around, momentarily pausing in his furious assault on the punching bag.

Stroding in casually was Hwoarang, his bag slung equally casually over his shoulder, a smug grin on his face as his eyes set on Jin.

Jin was caught off guard and felt his cheeks burn when he realized he had been imagining Hwoarang in the showers of the locker room. He put on his stone-like mask, and tried to look as uninviting as possible, to look as hostile he possibly could. Hwoarang was still many feet away from him, but still he saw that he wasn’t going to be able to escape greeting him.

"Kazama." Hwoarang nodded, and Jin returned the nod:

"Hwoarang."

Just as Hwoarang passed him, he called out, not even looking back, but his hand going up in a superior wave:

"You know I’m gonna beat you into a bloody pulp, Kazama. And that’s a promise, not a threat."

Yeah, right, I’m gonna... Jin thought, but he found no biting reply to the ‘promise’. He returned to beating the punching bag into nothing more than a limp bag of skin and yellow fluff seeping out from the seems. He wiped his sweat-covered brow, and started walking up to the drinking-fountain, looking forward to savouring the taste of cold water filling his mouth. He glanced over to where Hwoarang was training, currently focusing on one of his stances; the one where he would stand on only one foot, the other one high above his waist, his knee pressed against his chest and his fists ready to strike. Jin found himself elicit a small chuckle, and he immediately stopped himself as the thought struck him: Hwoarang was really handsome. And now that he wasn’t wearing his usual outfit of street thug black leather jeans and that tight tank top, maybe you couldn’t gaze at his incredibly well developed upper arms, but instead you could always catch a glance of his chest as his jacket wasn’t at all closed. .....Black suits you better, Hwoarang... Jin thought, a grin spreading on his face, Or better yet, why not show off in the suit Kami-sama gave you? he instantly shook his head, and took a sip from the sparkling water. He turned to walk away when he noticed that his slacks weren’t as comfortably loose-fitting as normal. There was a significant lack of space at one particular place, and his face went red immediately.

No! I can’t be.... Oh fuck!!!.... No, not fuck, geeeez! he thought, and cursed himself when his thoughts went to even nastier places than just imagining Hwoarang washing himself off in the showers of the locker room. He quickly retreated to the men’s locker room, hoping to find some solitude, escaping without anyone noticing his ‘growing’ condition. He tried to sit down on one of the benches, but that didn’t go too well. It was too uncomfortable, so he got up and started pacing the locker room, trying to think of other things. ...things not invovling Hwoarang in any way. But to no avail, Jin couldn’t get his mind off Hwoarang, and this he blamed on the one part of him that didn’t ever listen to reason. No matter what he tried to think of, Hwoarang managed to infiltrate his mind. It didn’t matter if he thought about math, which he hated, he still couldn’t escape him. Either Hwoarang acted as the math teacher, or he could see in front of himself Hwoarang as portraying the numbers. And he knew that Hwoarang was just as agile as to where he wouldn’t have any problem even stretching his body into even the number 69... with a little *help*...

Damnit! This isn’t working!! he thought, but was interrupted by the awful animal scream that came from the training hall. His whole body went limp when he realized to whom the voice belonged.

Hwoarang! he immediatley rushed for the door, and flung it open, and what he saw made his heart stop.

Almost exactly where he had last seen him practicing his stances, Hwoarang was lying on the floor, tightly clinging to his left leg.

"Damn you, Yoshimitsu!!!!" he roared as his face contorted in pain. He shut his eyes tightly and bared his clenched teeth.

Even though Jin stood a good way from Hwoarang, he could still see the tears of anger and pain glitter down his face.

Hwoarang... he thought, utterly devastated. He hurried to his side, where Law and Xiaoyu already were kneeling to help him.

"Hwoarang! What happened...!" he tried not to let his worry shine through, but Xiaoyu gave him a weird look. But instead of listening to her intuition, she answered him, when Hwoarang wouldn’t.

"Yoshimitsu somehow lost hold of his sword while doing one of those spinning jumps, and it sort of swoooshed through the air and grilled Hwoarang’s leg from the inside out."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...." Hwoarang repeated to himself like almost a mantra of sorts.

"We should tend to the wound." Law stated, and reached to pull up Hwoarang’s pants leg, as he suddenly roared:

"You are not tending to ANYTHING!!!!" and started fighting to get up, and away from the concerned people gathering around him, "Will you stop staring at me already!! I can take care of myself, thank you very much!!" the others backed away from him, in order to respect his wish, and Jin followed their example, altough reluctantly. Hwoarang got up after a moment or two of struggling, and hopped away on his good leg, every jump causing him to lose his balance, making him sway slightly. His arms were wide out like wings, waving like he was actually trying to fly, but that didn’t really work. He totally lost his balance the next hop he took, and Jin panicked. He threw himself forward, and caught his rival just before he could fall on the hard floor.

"Take your hands off of me, Kazama!!!!" Hwoarang protested, but Jin couldn’t believe the warmth that spread from his face and out into every part of his body. To his own utter fear he found he couldn’t move his arms away from Hwoarangs slim waist.

"I-I... I’m sorry, b-but you were gonna fall..." Jin stuttered, so embarassed he couldn’t talk straight, his cheeks turning bright red.

"Don’t you touch me!" Hwoarang shouted and broke free from the warm hold Jin had on him, and he hopped away to the locker room door.

Jin stood paralyzed, watching Hwoarang as he struggled to get the door open, succeeded and disappeared behind it, glaring one final mortifying look at Jin.

He lowered his eyes to his feet, and then turned to the others, who were all staring at him, they all being lit up by flashing question marks floating above their heads. He decided it was for the best if he followed into the locker room. Anything to escape the questioning, confused looks from the other fighters.

"Hwoarang?" he said, slightly opening the door to the locker room, praying to the gods he wouldn’t see anything he shouldn’t be wanting to see.

"Hwoarang, are you okay?"

"Don’t you dare come in here, Kazama. I’m warning you."

Jin stopped when he heard the serious voice coming from way back behind the lockers.

"Uhm... Look, Hwoarang, I.. I didn’t mean to offend you in any way..."

"What do you think you did!" a sudden noise was heard and Hwoarang shrieked, "Yiaahh!!!!"

"Hwoarang!" Jin burst out, and rushed to where the sound came from. He went around the lockers in the back, and saw Hwoarang trying to get up from the slippery floor.

"Aww dammit! Bloody HELL! Fuck it!!!" he cursed, and Jin pondered for a moment wether or not he could be as nasty in bed, but shook his head and knelt down beside Hwoarang to help him get up and sit down on the bench.

"Don’t, Kazama."

Hwoarang suddenly almost sounded a bit too down and low to be healthy, but he didn’t fight back when Jin put his arms around him again and gently pulled him up on the bench. As Hwoarang settled down, and uneasily tried to move his leg, Jin sat down on the opposite bench, and started explaining himself:

"Look, Hwoarang. You were about to fall, and I was the only one who could have reached you before..."

"That’s not the point, Kazama! I have never given you any reason to believe that I was the slightest interested in being anything but your opponent in battle. I don’t need a friend, and especially not if you’re the one volunteering."

Jin felt a small dagger cut in his chest. Hwoarangs voice was very cold, even for being Hwoarang’s voice.

"That was uncalled for, Hwoarang."

The redhead frowned when he saw the somewhat disappointed look on Jin’s face, but that look swiftly disappeared. Instead, it was replaced by acceptance, and something else. A strange fire could be seen in his eyes. And then, the fire disappeared as swiftly as it made itself visible.

"Just..." he continued, still looking into the eyes of Jin, "Just forget whatever I said, okay? Just... Leave me alone."

"No." Jin answered simply, "You’re hurt, Hwoarang, and since I’m the closest thing to a friend you have in here, I will have to help you tend to that leg of yours. With Yoshimitsu’s sword-... thing, your leg could be pretty badly burnt."

"You are not touching my leg!" Hwoarang grunted, a bit uneasy by the previous look in Jin’s eyes. It made him uneasy in more than one way, and what scared him was that he couldn’t forget about it. That look...

Jin huffed, rested his hands on his knees, and got down on the floor in front of Hwoarang.

"What do you think you’re doing!"

"Relax. I’m gonna pull up your pants leg, or what’s left of it, and then I’ll take a look at how much damage’s been done." and then he flashed a kind smile, highly unusual for him, and it stunned Hwoarang. He carefully pulled the torn piece of once white clothing upwards, and Hwoarang involuntarily twitched at the pain going all the way up his leg.

"Hey, take it easy!"

"Sorry..." Jin was amazed at how Hwoarang’s leg had taken almost no visual damage from the blow, and he couldn’t stop gazing at the well-shaped leg, such delicious firm curves and such a lithe muscle tone. Though, no matter how little one could see of the actual damage, Hwoarang was still in pain, and in need of something to soothe it.

"You wait here, while I go get something to cool those blisters beginning to show."

Hwoarang nodded, his eyes to the floor, not anxious to meet Jin’s eyes.

After a moment or two, Jin was back with a small box of bandages and a little can, that Hwoarang could only guess held some sort of concoction.

Jin sat back on the cold floor, and opened the box in front of him, took some bandages and put it in his lap, and opened the little can. He took some of the cool concoction in his hand and was going to start applying it to the blisters on Hwoarangs leg, when he twitched.

"You’re not gonna put that icky thing on my leg are you?" he asked, fear almost grazing his voice.

"Yes. I am." Jin smiled, "It will take away some of the pain, and cool your skin and muscles. Quite the opposite of a liniment, and very useful if you’re swollen after practise."If you’re swollen... God how obvious can one be!!!!! Jin scolded himself.

He turned to look up at Hwoarang, and waited for his reply. He made one single nod his gesture, and Jin started to carefully stroking the almost liquid salve onto his ankle and upwards. Hwoarang sighed with relief, and leaned back against the lockers. Jin gently lifted the leg up so he could stroke the salve out evenly on every inch of his leg, and Hwoarang jerked when Jin suddenly touched a very sensitive spot situated just at the hollow of his knee. It sent a beam of sparks all the way up to between his legs. His face went red at the sensation. Such sweet sparks they were.

Jin confusedly looked up at his face, unsure what he had done.

"I didn’t hurt you did I?"

"No.." Hwoarang shook his head, "Just... don’t go there anymore." his voice trembled, only barely noticable, and Jin continued to his ministrations, carefully rubbing the tender flesh, making sure he didn’t touch any of the blisters. At first, Hwoarang winced at the pain, but soon when the salve had begun to do its work, he actually started enjoying the warm touch. He found himself moaning disappointedly when Jin’s moves ceased. He opened his eyes and looked down at Jin, who was now pulling at the long piece of bandages.

"This may hurt as well, but I will try not to make it too tight."

All Hwoarang found himself capable of doing was to nod, and Jin instantly started wrapping the bandages around his ankle and encircling his leg up towards his knee.

"Hnngh!"

"Sorry." Jin said, and continued, now even more gentle than before, "Is this better?"

"Yes ..."

Jin continued upwards and finally secured the bandages just beneath Hwoarangs knee-cap, and then continued to lightly rub the aking leg. Hwoarang confusedly looked down at Jin, reveling in the warmth emanating from those strong hands. How could anyone possibly bring his heart to beat that hard in his chest? And why did Jin show such care for him? They were rivals

with a capital r, and no friends had they ever been nor shared.

"Jin..."

"Uhuh?"

"Don’t... Don’t do that anymore.. I’m fine, thank you..." he couldn’t believe how uncertain his own voice sounded, but he was relieved when Jin took his hands away. He didn’t notice the disappointed look in Jin’s eyes, though, as he immediately started putting both the roll of bandages and the can away into the small box. He stopped, and looked at the can, and turned his eyes for one brief second to meet Hwoarang’s.

"Maybe I should give you this.. I think you’ll need it more that I do." he said quietly and handed the can to Hwoarang, who hesitantly accepted the gift.

"...Thank you... I ..don’t know what to say.."

"Then don’t. Just take it, and use it whenever the pain starts to bother you, and you’ll be on your feet in a couple of days..."

"What!!! In a couple of days? Are you crazy!! I am not going to lose days of training only because that son-of-a-robot-alien Yoshimitsu decided to make my leg into a shich kebab!!!!"

"Calm down, Hwoarang. You don’t want your leg to get any worse than it already is, do you?" Jin asked, still sitting on the floor, his legs crossed into a lotus-like position. Reluctantly, Hwoarang nodded, with a huff, and tried to stand up. Jin instantly got up from the floor to aid his wounded opponent, but Hwoarang put up a hand in front of him, as if to say, ‘No, I will do this on my own, thank you very much.’

Jin stood in front of him, trying not to let his worry shine through. Carefully, not to stumble or make his leg hurt even more, Hwoarang put his foot down and tried to shift a little of his weight onto it. He gritted his teeth harshly, and grunted. He couldn’t put any weight on his foot, and he was once again left helpless, unable to cope on his own.

"Wait. I’ll..." Jin started, but was abruptly interrupted by one of Hwoarang’s mortifying glares. He started hopping forward, away from Jin, with one hand on the lockers to get some better balance.

"I’m not just gonna let you walk away like that! You’re wounded, for the love of..."

"No!" Hworang snapped, "I will not let you trick me into trusting you, Kazama!You are not going to help me, understood!?"

Jin nodded half-heartedly, and sat back down on the bench. Hwoarang nodded with a small, almost victorious smile. He didn’t have any chance to finish the smirk, though, before his foot hopped into something slippery on the floor, making him call out as the shock of having his feet thrown way up in the air was something he wasn’t accustomed to. Jin immediately jumped up from the bench, and threw himself on the floor, catching the redhead just before the back of his head hit the hard floor. Hwoarang breathed as shallow and as fast as anyone just being scared halfway out of their wits would, and stared up into the eyes of Jin. They were on fire, and somewhere deep in the depths of those fiery eyes, he saw fear.

"Jin!!... I ..er.. Thanks.." he stuttered, unsure how to take his eyes of off his face.

Jin felt how his whole face burned, and noted that he must be blushing. Hwoarang looked so inviting, his head resting in the cradle of his arm, the red hair so soft, so sparkling in the dull fluorescent light. To his outmost shame and embarrassment, he never wanted to let go.

He scolded himself, Stop it, Jin! You will never have him this close to you ever again, so stop .... stop hoping and get on with your life!!

Tears started filling his eyes, and he whispered, staggeringly:

"No." I will not stop hoping! I will not let this moment go by without... seizing it..

He pulled Hwoarang’s beautiful creation closer and put a warm hand on his back.

"I will not let you go."

Hwoarang confusedly looked up at Jin’s now tearflooding eyes, his downy red eyebrows creased:

"I never said anythin’ about...!"

He didn’t have the time to finish his sentence, before Jin had captured his lips with his own in a forceful kiss. Hwoarang’s mind dashed through his head, and he thought for one moment that he was dreaming. He felt the warm tears rolling down on his cheeks, and as if in a fog, he thought, He’s crying... Without even noticing, he had slid his arms around Jin’s neck, and pulled him into a tighter embrace, savouring the taste of his hot lips. Jin... His heart raced, and he trembled, panted into Jin’s now open mouth. Their toungues danced with each other as if trying to become one, desperately trying to pull the other closer. Jin!

He found himself moaning into Jin’s warm mouth, hungry for his lips, yet starving for something more. He suckled at Jin’s lower lip, and went for another dose of the blissful heat. Jin wilfully obliged, by kissing him even more fiercely, swirling his tongue around Hwoarang’s with a madmans dedication. Oh, Jin!!

But then, Jin pulled away, gasping for air, and staring down at Hwoarang who exhausted rested his head back on Jin’s arm, panting heavily. His eyes were glazed, almost foggy, and small beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, his cheeks painted in a sheer red tone.

Oh no! What have I done!! He’s a wounded man for crying out loud, he couldn’t defend himself! I took advantage of him!! Jin’s mind screamed, and just as he was about to say something to beg for Hwoarang’s forgiveness, to make him understand, someone came into the locker room. Jin panicked, and instantly pulled the seemingly dazed Hwoarang up on one of the benches, and sat down in front of him, just like he had done earlier.

Hwoarangs head hung down, and he lazily rested his head on his hands, as Yoshimitsu came hurrying around the corner.

"...I’m so regretful, Hwoarang! Please forgive my foolish actions! It was not my intention to swirl my sword at my fellow combatant outside of the tournament!"

For once, Yoshimitsu looked really sorry for his actions. Hwoarang rolled his head towards the robot-like alien, and gave a faint smile.

"It’s ok, Yoshi... No hard feelings..." he went quiet for no more than a second, and then gave up a rough laughter. "No ‘hard’ feelings.... Haa Hah!" he chuckled, and threw an eye at Jin, who instantly blushed. He’s making fun of me!

Hwoarang kept on laughing silently, he almost snarled, and winked at Jin, not noticing how devastated he was.

He doesn’t even care!

Jin’s newly lit hope vanished quicker than it had first started to grow.

How can he do this to me! And to think I thought he would.... I... can’t believe...

He got up from the bench, without a word, not even looking at Hwoarang.

He left the locker room, tears once again starting to flood his eyes, and he angrily wiped them away. When he heard Hwoarang’s voice call out to him, he was already out the door, and running for the exit.