Chapter One: Realizing

My first Tekken story! Hwoarang and Jin Kazama baby! Yaoi, obviously! If you don't like, then leave! I don't want flames overfilling my inbox.

So keep reading and tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: Me don't own Tekken, k?

The streets were calm and quiet. It was dark out and surprisingly nobody was around. Then the sounds of faint yelling were sounded in the distance.

"Damn you, Kazama!" Hwoarang yelled out, rage filling in his senses. He always prided himself on being the strongest fighter around. Then this Kazama Jin showed up and ruined everything: his pride, his glory, and all of the things he worked so hard in life to achieve. He was not going let himself be put down any further.

"Calm down Hwoarang," the latter called back, sighing. He grew wearisome of the Korean's wild threats and calls. When was the whole thing going to end? He stared at the pools of rage in his rival's eyes and decided not very soon.

Hwoarang stared at the silent Jin dangerously. "I will defeat you one of these days! And then you had better watch out," cried the redhead venomously. His anger had gotten the best of him and he was beginning to sound like some idiot and he realized it, too, but continued with his rants. He needed it out of his system.

But the spiky-haired youth didn't answer. Instead he turned and left a seething Korean to himself. The whole argument was foolish and uncouth. There was no honor in participating in such a debate.

Hwoarang, however, clenched his fist in increasing aggravation before turning around to walk in the opposite direction. He limped painfully on his left foot, but that wasn't what consumed his mind.

Damn you, Jin. You think you can walk away from me so easily do you? Well, you haven't seen anything yet…

Jin watched Hwoarang walk away from the corner of his eye with some pity before snapping back into reality. There he was feeling sorry for the very man who swore to kill him just a few moments ago. He really was too merciful for his own good. But then there was a strange sort of attachment he felt towards the redhead.

The Japanese youth quickly shook his head to clear his ridiculous thoughts. Hwoarang was his enemy and rival. He cared nothing for him. Sighing, Jin began walking back to his apartment. In truth he knew he was just denying himself. He never truly hated anyone in his entire life. He was just too stubborn to admit that he did actually care for the Korean man.

Jin frowned deeply. He was insane. Why was he questioning himself now? Just after one little scuffle with Hwoarang and he was starting to wonder if what he was doing was right? He never felt this way when he fought against him in the tournament. His apartment came into view then and Jin took out his keys and began fumbling with them. He entered the building and took the elevator in deep thought. Maybe Hwoarang wasn't as bad as he looked. Suddenly Jin laughed.

"I'm trying to make the guy who's trying to kill me sound good? What the hell's wrong with me?" he cried, scratching the back of his neck. The elevator lurched to a stop and Jin got off and headed right to his apartment.

Once inside, he took off his coat and plopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling in confusion. He was reading everything too hard. So what if he pitied his rival? He was just a compassionate man. Nodding, Jin repeated those words forcefully over and over in his mind as he stared up at the ceiling. He had already been pounding himself for an hour. After realizing he would never get any sleep, he stood up and grabbed his jacket again. Then without so much as a glance at his apartment, he left the room for a little night out.

Hwoarang lounged around the table shooting balls into corners with amazing precision. The trick was easy for him. All he had to do was imagine that each ball was Jin's head and that made his moves accurate and unwavering. He cussed the spiky-haired youth in his head from time to time, scowling each time he remembered their very first introduction at a street brawl.

But what Hwoarang didn't know was that his foremost enemy had just entered right at that moment. Fortunately for him Jin didn't recognize Hwoarang when he saw him playing by himself at the pool table. Instead, he went straight to the bar to drown his thoughts with a drink.

Hwoarang had just at that moment decided he was indeed getting thirsty also and strode towards the bar. As he was walking, he spotted Jin place himself down on a seat in front of the bartender and he silently cursed to himself as he looked up at the ceiling in desperation.

Shit… Why me?

He quickly grabbed a hat sitting nearby on a chair and tucked his hair under it and put on a pair of sunglasses in his pocket. He was wearing a pair of worn out black jeans and a dark green shirt in which he scrunched up the sleeves till it reached his elbows. He headed to the opposite end of the bar, trying his best to stay as far away from Jin as he could possibly go. Quickly ordering a shot of tequila, he silently watched Jin.

The latter, oblivious to his little stalker, ordered his drink and stared at it before gulping it down in a second. He noticed a fellow dressed in black sitting on the other side of the bar with some amusement. Raising an eyebrow, he had the strangest feeling that he knew that person from somewhere. He shook his head in frustration.

There I go hallucinating again. Like that would really be Hwoarang… Am I really that desperate to see him again? God…

Hwoarang arched his eyebrow when he saw Jin smirk from afar. He glanced around him and noticed no one else sitting around him, causing him to panic slightly. Forcing himself to remain calm, he swallowed the rest of his drink and sat nervously. Why was he being such a coward now? Was he actually afraid of Kazama Jin? He would have laughed if that second question hadn't caused him to hesitate.

However, Jin just stared into his empty glass and his mind unconsciously created a picture of Hwoarang in it. He yelped and looked around him and noticed the bartender shooting him a strange glance. Jin smiled sheepishly and ordered another drink, trying to sink lower into his seat.

And a fighter's supposed to be smooth and poised? Damn, what the hell am I then?

Meanwhile, Hwoarang nearly went into a burst of laughter when he heard Jin yelp. Never in his whole entire life had he ever heard the Japanese youth shout like that, not even in battle. Hwoarang stifled his snickers, but his shoulders were still shaking as he imagined how focused and serious Jin was in fights compared to one moment ago.

The bartender approached Jin, cleaning a glass as he spoke. "The place is rather empty tonight. Only you and that guy over there are here alone with some other poor bums," he remarked as he began pouring Jin another drink.

Jin nodded as he glanced at the stranger across from him again. "Yeah, I wonder why," he murmured, eyes narrowing slightly at the man. There was that feeling tugging at his heart again.

The bartender shrugged. "Sure you want another drink? It's your seventh," he warned, arching an eyebrow at Jin's face. Six drinks and the man wasn't even flushed. He was quite impressed.

Jin nodded amusedly. He never pictured a bartender actually warning him not to drink something. Usually it was them who dared him to try different drinks. "It's okay. I'm used to it," he replied reassuringly, smiling slightly.

The bartender shrugged, hiding his smile. "Yeah, I see. Usually I see people throwing up after drinking just two of these," he remarked, waving an empty glass around.

Jin shrugged in response. "It's my favorite drink. Guess other people can't take it," he replied with some amusement.

He took his drink quickly and drank it much slowly this time. Eyeing the other customer, he began wondering to himself again. He still couldn't shake the feeling that he knew that person from somewhere.

Hwoarang shifted uneasily as he noticed Jin was staring at him again. He stood up nervously and decided to shoot some pool to calm his nerves. Why was he acting so timidly? Why wasn't he challenging Jin to a fight like he usually would have? What was wrong with him?

Jin eyed the stranger as he went to one of the pool tables and smiled. The perfect opportunity to get to know the stranger was right before him. He walked over to the table and leaned against the table right next to where Hwoarang was standing.

"Hello. Mind if I played?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, trying to catch a better glimpse of the man's eyes. But it was no use. The man kept his head down, hiding his face from any vantage point.

Hwoarang gulped nervously. "N-No…of course not!" he replied as he nervously set the balls. He took the first shot and the balls went flying into different corners. Now his composure was completely broken. Jin had the most horrible timing.

"Are you okay?" Jin asked as he saw Hwoarang's quivering hand. The shot was good and he was stripes as it seemed, but the boy was sweating bullets for some bizarre reason.

Hwoarang nodded in response as he trued to regain control. "Sure! Just not used to playing with complete strangers, but that's okay right?" he said in a rush, realizing he sounded like some kind of hermit who hid from people. That was not how he intended it sound like.

Jin smiled amusedly at the man's remark. "Yeah, my name is Kazama Jin by the way," he introduced as Hwoarang took up another shot. It was clear and Jin had to nod at the pure talent it took for him to make such a complicated shot.

The Korean youth nodded dumbly. "Oh yeah! The guy who won the tournament!" he exclaimed mundanely before scowling to himself. Now he was sounding like some crazed fan.

Jin nodded, chuckling slightly. "Uhh…yeah…so what's your name?" he quickly asked, arching an eyebrow. It seemed as if the stranger knew everything there was to know about him and he didn't even know his name.

"M-My name? Err…I don't have a name."

The spiky-haired boy grinned at the answer. "Don't have a name? You must go by something!" he exclaimed, laughing. This guy must not go out very often if his social skills were that bad.

Hwoarang mentally smacked himself. He really was beginning to sound like one of those nerdy college students who hadn't gone out in months because of schoolwork. "No, no, I'm an orphan so I don't know what my real name is," he replied. Then he mentally smacked himself in the head. That was much more information he gave out than he intended.

Jin lowered his head in sympathy. "Oh…sorry. But why don't you make up a name?" he asked, feeling a little uncomfortable.

Hwoarang shrugged, trying to find a position on the table. "Never really thought about it," he replied simply. Now he was finally beginning to catch onto the whole situation. He had to be a little careful, though.

Leaning his head against his stick, Jin watched Hwoarang shoot. "Hmm…I would give you a name, but I can't since you're hiding your face under those sunglasses. I don't even know how you look like! But it's strange. When I first saw you, I thought you were someone I knew," he remarked calmly.

"Oh…? Who'd you think I was?"

Hwoarang hoped he didn't sound too fake. His composure was starting to fade again. He gripped himself and he took up another shot.

Jin merely shrugged. "This guy I fought against. His name was Hwoarang," he answered, not really wanting to talk about the redhead, but he couldn't help but picture the fighter's face in his mind.

The Korean youth sweatdropped as he cracked his knuckles nervously. "Oh…you mean the Hwoarang?" he repeated, trying to sound like he was part of the audience and not himself. He shook his head, wondering why he was letting the whole situation carry out so far.

Jin nodded. "The one and only," he remarked dryly. Hwoarang gulped as he missed the hole.

"Your turn," he announced quickly, relieved for the brief moment of peace.

Grinning, Jin took up a position on the table. "Finally! I thought I was going to stand here forever," he exclaimed, taking up a shot.

"Heh, well, you eventually run out of luck I guess," Hwoarang said unsurely. He really should have left a long time ago. But Jin was actually a nice person to talk to when he didn't know whom he was speaking to. "Yeah, but as you can see, I'm not Hwoarang," he remarked jokingly.

No, I am the Blood Talon! God, what's the difference?

"Yeah, I can see that. I still need to call you something. Give me a name."

"I don't know any," Hwoarang replied quickly. That was true enough. Baek gave the name he had now. He could think of plenty of Korean names, but that would hint too much of where he came from.

Jin shook his head in exasperation as he took another shot. The guy could at least help with a name. He hated being the decider.

"Just call me Anon."

"Anon?" Jin repeated, looking at Hwoarang strangely. "Where'd that come from?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. Well, Anon was an interesting name to pick.

"Anon…short for anonymous. I just made it up a second ago," Hwoarang replied, smirking. He should have received an A for creativity.

Jin laughed aloud. "Anonymous, anon. Very creative! I would've never thought of it!" he exclaimed.

Hwoarang grinned. "Yup. That's me, creative!"

Smiling once again, Jin continued his turn. Hwoarang watched him with interest as random thoughts began popping into his head.

He has a nice smile… And he looks pretty cute when he's concentrating like that… And what the fuck am I saying?

The redhead shook his head and scowled to himself. No more thoughts like that. This was only a one-time thing. It would never happen again. After this night he would go back to hating Jin and vice versa.

Until then he forced himself to think about the game.

Hell, if I can't beat him in real life, at least I'll do it in a game of pool!