The First Crack in the Metal

**Chapter Nine**
The Folding Process

The King of Iron Fist, Round of 16

Nina Williams Vs. Hwoarang
Craig Marduk Vs. Julia Chang
Jin Kazama Vs. Paul Pheonix
Kazuya Mishima Vs. Marshall Law
Violet Vs. Yoshimitsu
King Vs. Ling Xiaoyu
Bryan Fury Vs. Lei Wulong
Steve Fox Vs. Christie Montiero

**

“Where do you think your sneaking off to?” Ling asked with one hand on her hip. The hotel lobby was nearly vacant with all assembled guests and staff in the banquet hall.

“I was just going to get some air.” Jin said, pausing and turning to see Ling awaiting his response.

Ling could not imagine what it must have been like for Jin to see Heihachi again after the story the Japanese youth had told she and Hwoarang a few nights ago. “I saw him approach you. Are you okay?” Ling asked, tilting her head to the side. Jin looked so out of sorts, disrupted.

Jin took a long pause, his eyes lowering. “No. I am not okay…I don’t know…if I will ever be okay again.” That was the most truthful thing he had said in sometime, the words were cathartic.

Ling approached Jin slowly, tipping her glance down to catch his, making him look up as she reached a hand out to touch such a massive arm. “What is it, Jin?”

“I would not know where to begin Ling. I feel lost…in a thick fog. I can not find my feet beneath me, I don’t know where I am going or how it is I have come to be here.” The pain in his voice made Ling shiver.

“This is not only about Heihachi, is it?” She asked, as Jin looked away. “Hey, Jin. Its me, remember. You can trust me, you can talk to me. You might be lost in the fog but I can try to help you, I can be the lighthouse for you, even if I am not the first choice for that position.”

Jin closed his eyes. He felt like metal being folded, steel forced to bend to the shape and will of a design he could not understand. His insides were pressed and stretched by a relentless hand that took great pleasure in forcing him to lose all his previous form, all the memory of natural light now threatened to be replaced with the forges’ fire. “My father…Kazuya Mishima, is alive.”

“How can that be, Jin? You showed me the clipping of him from the paper…he died in the King of Iron Fist tournament like 20 years ago.” Ling asked with disbelief. So, that was the man standing beside the Japanese youth. Though it had been too dark to make out much more than a shape in the shadows.

“Heihachi nearly killed him, threw his body into a volcano that erupted not a moment later. He was found…and used as a..lab experiment to reanimate the tissue. They brought him back to life…and now he is here…and something inside of me feels broken.” Jin tried to put it into words, but those words hurt. He made no mention of what Kazuya had told him about his mother, about her fleeing from Tokyo, knowing the truth surrounding his fathers death and Heihachis involvement. His life had been built on lies told to him on the first day he could comprehend words. A lie that kept getting thicker and deeper with each passing year. Jin felt betrayed by everything he had ever known, everyone he had ever trusted.

“I don’t know what it is, Ling. But something inside of me…is changing. Something inside of me…wants to get out…wants to release destruction…break apart everything in my path…and its starting with me. I cant hold it back anymore…what is inside me…wants to destroy me.”

“Jin.” Ling said, her lips parted slightly as heavy breaths drove over the rim of those pink painted petals. She could feel it, the angst that rang out like solar flares from Jins spirit. “I wont let anything hurt you, Jin. Not even yourself.”

“You cant help me, Ling. No one can.” Jin said, taking a deep breath, trying to center his focus, to hide his own fear…of himself. “It will not end with Heihachi…it has to end with me. The stakes of this game have gotten much larger than I ever thought they could be.”

“But you have your father with you now. Together you both can end this hate and start over, remove Heihachi from his place of power and clear the fog.” Ling said as Jin pulled away from her touch.

“I don’t know why, Ling, but I don’t think that will be the end of things.” Jin said and turned, his head held down and hands stuffed into the pockets of his training jacket. He had preferred the one that was in tatters now, a painful reminder of the Devil nearly breaking through while he was still with Hwoarang. “I have to go…”

**

Hwoarang took a breath of fresh, warm air. The smoke filtered out of his lips as one hand pressed itself into an overly tight denim pocket, one knee bent to brace the flat of his boot against the outside wall of the hotel. He was filled to the gullet with aggravation, mostly at himself. Some of it at Jin. When those eyes met him across the way, he started to get that sick feeling again. Not really sure what was going on. Maybe it was heartache. That was, if Hwoarang believed he had a heart.

Everything was compounded by the look in Jins eyes. Every false emotion, every overly protective brick in his wall wanting to shake loose of the mortar and make right the things that were wrong. Somehow, it was like walking through a thick fog, not knowing where you were going, not knowing where you had been. Just surrounded, alone and choking on the thick air.

Through that heavy haze, Hwoarang breathed in smoke, letting copper tendrils caress the wall behind him so his eyes could look out over the cars in the lot, not really seeing anything but the reflection of lights against the windscreens. By now, the shindig would be in full swing and Steve would probably be looking for him soon enough. He liked the Brit and that was the problem. It might have been a nice, intimate and easy distraction from his pain a year ago, but now, it was a burden that made Hwoarang feel split in half.

The Korean was attracted to Steve. They shared a good deal in common when it came to what they believed and how those choices had affected both of their lives…searching for something that never seems to be in your grasp. For Steve, it was his mother and his past, for Hwoarang it was Do San…and it was Jin. Two completely different men that had rocked the Blood Talons world in completely different ways.

Even with that attraction and sense of companionship he could share with Steve in an alternate world, like the dark London streets of yesterday….that did not translate to the unsetting Nippon sun of today. Steve was London…and Jin…was Japan. Caught between both worlds, those spurred boots felt right dug into Tokyo soil, the same way that Korean body felt right pressed into Jin.

“I didn’t think you would the one to come looking for me.” Hwoarang said, exhaling smoke and not bothering to turn his eyes to the side. He knew the presence, it was the only light in the fog, the shroud that seemed to haze over the world.

“I didn’t come looking for you. I am leaving.” Jin said, looking past Hwoarang who stood against the wall, braced in juxtaposition.

“We need to talk.” It was that simple. But when it came to the two of them, nothing was ever simple.

“I have nothing to say. Not anymore.” Jin said in a calm, even tone. He could smell Steve all over the Blood Talons skin and he focused his eyes into vacant expression or else…it might break loose.

“I have some things to say.” Hwoarang flicked his ashes, tossing the cigarette butt into the lot with a flick of his thumb and forefinger.

“I think you have used all your words.” Jin took a heavy breath. He turned his eyes and that gaze was locked in amber. Those beautiful Korean eyes were like a tea colored pool of natural rocks, magnetic to swim in but jagged and dangerous all at the same time. Someone else had invaded that pristine water, felt the lapping warm waves filled with sunlight. And it was no longer pure.

“No. I haven’t, Jin.” He said in a tone so soft it was held aloft by the slight warm breeze. It hung there for a moment before fading off into the unseen current.

The Japanese youth could not break the hold of those eyes, nor the bile in the back of his throat at picturing Steve entwined with his Seung. The taste of ozone lit the air….and Jin leaned in, moving in slow motion.

Soft, firm hands touched the Blood Talons forearms, connecting skin to skin as Jin leaned his body against Hwoarangs. He heard that hard gasp, the smell of singed hair, the wincing of those perfect almond amber eyes. The electric current hurt but Hwoarang never made a sound. Jins love hurt…

Dark eyes lowered as Jin breathed in Hwoarangs breath, tasting nothing there but nicotine and sweet rum. None had touched these lips, not tonight anyway. The Japanese youth felt the shiver in his spine as Hwoarangs body tightened, feeling the tongue of the lightning burn just as Jins slick muscle entwined against his lovers.

Hwoarangs eyes closed tightly as his lips parted for every twining sensation, the fog lifted and only the haze of pain and pleasure remained, each vying for first place. He deserved the hurt…and that current, that dangerous current gave the Blood Talons heart, its first real pulse. Jins kiss…was like saying goodbye, like letting him go.

The Korean leaned heavier into that perfect mouth, giving a fire to Jins kiss that spoke volumes with each slick brush. Hwoarang wasn’t giving up, would breath life into Jin…would save his drowning lover….

It was all too much. Emotion was so heavy, the current so sharp, Hwoarang was forced to break his lips away with an anguished hiss. “It hurts.” He managed and felt Jin withdraw his hands and his body. What hurt more, the lightning or the thunderclap of his newly charged Korean heart?

“I know.” Jins said, looking down at Hwoarangs arms. The current had eaten into the Blood Talons skin like a hungry, forked tongue. He was bleeding in thin rivulets that started below each elbow and down the forearm, collecting at the tips of his fingers.

Hwoarang looked down at his arms and then back to Jin. The Japanese youth wore his blood on his palms.

“Jin, don’t let go.” Of me. Of this. Of us. Of yourself. The Korean said, his lips burning as the beacon of his lovers light was drowning out in that newly descending fog. Hwoarang felt alone…because Jin felt alone.

“I have to. Because I will hurt you if I don’t.” Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Demonically.

This was not just about Steve. That fracture in Jins spirit was growing into a chasm. Something more was threatening to push his lover over the proverbial edge. The words were there but Hwoarang could not say them. Didn’t want them used as a way to lasso Jin from the edge. And, what if Jin didn’t return it anymore? That kiss felt like it was meant to change everything, to close doors and build walls were there had been rivers and fresh earth.

The Japanese youth pressed his bloody hands back into the pockets of his jacket and walked past the shivering Blood Talon. He did not look back even as he felt Hwoarangs eyes following him into the night. He needed clarity. He needed calm. Jin needed to walk until he could meet himself on the street and decipher pleasantries from subtleties…devil from man.

**

“There you are.” Steve said, running a hand back through sweat glistened white blonde locks. He had changed into jeans and a Hawaiian shirt, the obnoxious pattern heightened by the swirling strobes around them. “I couldn’t find you after the gathering. Did you get a look at the lists?”

Hwoarang settled at the bar, ordering a drink. “Yeah, sorry about that. I needed some time to clear my head. So, now its time to get shit faced. And yeah, I did see the lists. Gonna prove to be interesting.”

Steve leaned in to grasp his beer, brushing Hwoarangs arm. “Why is your arm..wait, both of your arms bandaged up?” White cling tape wound like a snake from wrist to forearm on both sides.
“Cut myself on some glass.” Now, that was a cheap lie. Hwoarang had not even bothered to put any feeling into making it even half believable. “I took care of it.” He smiled. “So, where is the rest of the group, Ling and Julia show up?”

“Yeah, they are out there dancing. I had to catch some breath. That girl Julia is quite the looker. You and she have a history?” Steve asked with a sly smile.

“Not too much of one but we tried to lay the foundation..or should I say, I tried to lay the foundation.” Hwoarang still felt the heavy presence of Jin around him but he was trying to shake it off. Being around people right now seemed the best way. “Thinking about it?”

“Yeah, definitely. But I am still thinking about you more.” Steve said, brushing his fingers across Hwoarangs neck in a light, butterfly caress. “You want to get out of here, go back to the hotel? I have a room there.”

The idea was tempting. But Steve wasn’t who he wanted to be with right now. And somehow, the Blood Talon doubted hot, drunken sex with the boxer wasn’t going to do more than give him a bigger problem in the morning. “Not tonight. I have a headache.”

“You never used to suffer from headaches.” Steve said with a slight sneer. “Look, if your not into me, just come out and say it so I don’t have to sit around and wonder if this is going to happen.”

“Get your rocks off with Julia and come back around when you have this whiny shit out of your system. Then, I will fuck you blind.” Hwoarang said with that arrogant sneer of his own.

“Last time, it wasn’t me who was fucked blind. You couldn’t see straight for a full day after that.” Steve replied with a sigh. It wasn’t intended as a slight, no time spent on top or on bottom with Hwoarang was ever a slight.

That made the Blood Talon laugh. “Yeah, well, that was a year ago. You can say I have been purified since then. I don’t catch, I pitch.” Jin had baptized Hwoarang in that shower. Even if he never spent another night with the Japanese youth, his occasional weakness of the knees was over. If it wasn’t Jin, it wasn’t docking in his harbor.

Steve shook his head, lifting one of the Koreans cigarettes from the bartop. “Hwoarang. I really like you.”

“Yeah, I really like me to.” The Blood Talon snickered, trying to stop Steve from going any further with this line.

“Close that bloody trap for a moment and let me say what I want to say.” Steve said with a sharp inhale, not giving Hwoarang a chance to say another word, he continued. “I know you have some things to deal with as far as Jin. I am not blind to what is going on. I don’t want to complicate things so I am going to cool it for awhile. When you come around, and I hope you come around, lets rub some sticks together and make fire. Fair enough?”

Hwoarang laughed. Interesting words. “Yeah. Fair enough.” That’s the reason the Blood Talon liked Steve. Attractive, witty and compassionate in all the ways he was not. If Jin was not so heavily on his mind, he would have taken that hot bastard then and there and let every last bit of angst out. Maybe soon, maybe never.

“Im going to catch up with those two although, they do look hot sweating and dancing with each other. Think they might go for alittle girl on girl?” Steve laughed, rubbing his chin.

“If they do, call me.” The Blood Talon laughed, slapping Steve on the upper arm. He hated to admit it but as much as he hated to see the Brit go, he loved watching that hot body walk away.

As Steve drew out onto the dance floor, Ling was walking off, eliciting raised hands from the boxer in a “what the fuck” gesture. His hopes were dashed but only for a moment.

“So, you finally showed up.” Ling said, her long dark hair unbound and clinging with sweat soaked tendrils against an angular cheek. “I went looking for you at the gathering but you were already gone and Steve had no idea where you were. Hope you don’t mind the fact we stole him.”

“Like I give a shit?” He snickered, raising his drink to his lips. Ling took the glass out of his hand and downed it in one, quick shot. “What the fuck!” He hissed, recapturing the empty glass and tilting it over. Not a drop left.

“Gotta keep up or get out of the way.” She smiled and leaned in. “I think we need to talk, Hwoarang. Lets get out of here.”

“What the fuck, am I dear abby? Why does it seem like everyone wants me to flap my gums tonight?” He sighed. Not another talk. He could not take another verbal lashing from Ling, not after what had happened tonight with Jin.

“What happened to your arms?” she asked, raising one of the Blood Talons hands as though trying to see through the wound cling gauze.

“Struck by lightning.” He said, withdrawing her grasp from his hand. He rose and reclaimed his pack of smokes, tucking them into a tight pocket. “Lets go.” He said, already walking without looking back. If Ling didn’t catch up, she would blow the pony express ride to talk town.

**

“Don’t smoke tonight.” Ling said with a sigh, her legs folded beneath her on the familiar leather couch. “I need you to be clear in your thoughts when I speak to you.”

“If you want me to be clear in my thoughts, then I have to smoke.” The Blood Talon said, inhaling the herbal smoke., sitting cross legged on the couch near the end table. Defiance should have been his middle name.

Ling sighed and took a sip of whiskey, finding the bite of it unpleasant but the warmth of it, comforting. Hwoarang actually had pretty good, pretty expensive tastes. “Why is everything a battle of wills with you?”

The Korean exhaled and tapped the ashes into the receptacle held atop a firm thigh. “Because I only entertain things that are worth fighting for, Midget. Thought you would have known that by now.”

“Yeah, I guess I already did.” Ling inhaled a sharp breath, turning her head to study Hwoarang. “So, you saw Jin tonight then. I am guessing when you said you were struck by lightning you weren’t being metaphorical about it. What did he say?”

“Its not what he said, its just…what I felt. I think Jin is slipping away from us. I think Jin is falling apart.” He said, leaning his head back. “So, lets move it along, Ling. What do you have to say?”

Always right to the point with Hwoarang. “Did you see anyone with Jin tonight, in the back of the banquet hall, besides Heihachi?”

“Yeah. I saw someone there, but it was dark, didn’t get too good of a look. Maybe he has himself a new toy to play with.” The Korean snickered, lifting the joint to his lips.

“That was his father. Mishima Kazuya.” Ling said, not pulling any punches.

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes, furrowing his brow. “Jins father is dead. Don’t ask me how I know that, I don’t reveal my sources. So, you must be mistaken, midget.”

“No, I am not. Jin told it to me himself. Heihachi had nearly killed Kazuya…but somehow he was reclaimed and taken somewhere and…reanimated. I recall Jin telling me about his father before, but only what he knew from his mother…and I think his mother, Kazama Jun…lied. Maybe to keep him safe, maybe because she did not want to say the truth…but…”


“..Jins whole world is built on lies.” Hwoarang said, picking up Lings train of thought. “After Heihachi trying to blow his head off two years ago, now he has to deal with the fact his own mother was bullshitting him. Talk about a mindfuck.” The Korean groaned, feeling a hot twinge of pain at that idea. He had never known his own father, nothing more than he recalled his mother telling him before she disappeared. Some American GI stationed in Pusan…who gave that promise to come back for her…if only he could solidify the unquenchable love he had…in carnal contract.

“Jin is scared, Hwoarang. He told it to me…he feels like something inside of him is trying to destroy him. I don’t know if he has lost his mind or if he is really telling the truth. I don’t know what to do.” Ling bit the edge of her lip, nervously before lifting the rim of the glass to her lips.

“Like I fucking know? Shit, I am like the blind leading the blind?” Hwoarang shifted his shoulders. Quick wit was a cover for fears of his own. That explained why Jin felt so…distant and yet…so needing of him.

“Well, you have to know something we can do. I mean, you and him…well, you know.” She said with a flush to her features.

Hwoarang did not want to admit…that when it came to Jins life, all he knew could be summed up in a paragraph. He felt suddenly and painfully aware that the one person who had restarted his heart, was one person he truly did not know. “You cant go by sex alone, Ling. Jin..doesn’t…well, we really don’t…you know. Get personal like that.”

Lings eyes widened. “Damn it, Hwoarang! You mean to tell me, you have no idea of anything about Jin…”

“I know he likes it hard and fast…I know he loves it the way I give it to him.” Hwoarang said with a snicker. Lings eyes bore into him like a surgical tool. She could see right through this…and the Korean knew it. “Fuck, Ling. I don’t know…I don’t know how to answer you. Alright, I admit it…we don’t talk about those kinds of things. We don’t talk about anything really.” Sore spot. Very sore spot.

“Something is happening inside of Jin, Hwoarang. There has to be a way to stop it!” She cried out in exasperation. The one person she needed to count on to get through to Jin…didn’t even know him.

“Yeah. I know.” He said, reaching into the stand beside the couch. He withdrew a single black feather, stuck in there the day before so he would not lose it. He leaned on his knees and handed it over to Ling, his eyes holding it possessively.

“I found this on the floor the other night when Jin came here…and I was hanging out and drinking with Steve. Its exactly like the one I found two years ago. Cant be a coincidence.”

“What does a large bird have to do with any of this! God, you are so fucking abstract! Focus!” Ling said with a hiss, handing the feather back to a greedy, outreaching hand.

“It has something to do with this…with Jin. I don’t know what…shit, he could be ripping ravens apart for all I fucking know…but I remember, through a drunken haze…that I felt sick right before I found it. And there are these times, Ling…when his mood changes…and I feel that wave of sick take me over. I can even taste blood in my mouth..and its not my blood. Its Jins blood.” Now, the Blood Talons eyes were wide as he let the secrets he harbored out.

“You are losing your mind just the same as he.” She huffed. “Come on, be serious. When the hell would you have tasted Jins blood.?”

“A few times, when I think about it. I am sure I got a lick of it during that fight in the back alley of Korea, three years ago. We were both bleeding pretty heavily. Sweat and other fluids fly when your going that hard at each other. And then, the first night we ever, you know, he bit his lip…and it bled..but that wasn’t stopping me from tasting that mouth…I wasn’t worried about disease, pure as he was. And this other time, my teeth broke his skin…”

“Alright, alright. Enough.” Ling said, scrunching her eyes closed and downing what remained of the whiskey. “You know, that’s disgusting. Next thing you are going to tell me is that you don’t use…protection.”

“Shit, I use it all the time. Unless I am with him. Its different when I am with him…” Hwoarang said with a sigh. “But back to the subject, that blood I taste is his…and I don’t know why…I don’t know why I feel sick when he gets into those little dark moods of his…and why these fucking feathers keep showing up.”

Ling shook her head, not seeing the correlation. “Lets get off the abstract, alright?”

“I feel so truthful about this Ling, that I had a fucking feather done in ink on my back…it reminded me of him..something I wanted to keep with me…when I thought he was dead.” Hwoarang was truthful now, drawing in a heavy cloud of smoke, letting its cloy affect wash over him.

“Hwoarang. Please. Stop this nonsense and get back to the topic. We have to help Jin. He needs us…he needs you.” Ling said with frustration.

“I don’t think he needs me, Ling. He kissed me tonight…and when he did, it felt like goodbye.” The Blood Talon said with a heavy sigh, hating to admit that outloud.

“If he doesn’t have you, Hwoarang…then he has no anchor to cling to. He wont listen to me, not like this…you’re the only chance Jin has of fighting this thing off. Why didn’t you just make him listen?”

“Because he wont listen to me! Fuck, there it is, out in the open. He doesn’t give a shit anymore, Ling. He is beyond any help you can give him and he sure as shit doesn’t want it from me.” He let out a roar.

“Well, maybe that would not be the case if you weren’t fucking Steve Fox! You had his love and you threw it away for that tart. Really, Hwoarang, did you wait a whole hour out of respect for Jin or did you jump in the bed the same moment we left?” She drew her legs over the couch, ready to stand up and face the Blood Talon, head on.

“I am not fucking Steve Fox!” He hissed. “I wanted to..but I couldn’t. Alright, go ahead, make fun of it.” The Korean drew his legs from the crossed position, leaning over his knees in an aggressive posture.

“Why couldn’t you, Hwoarang? Why couldn’t you seal the deal with Steve?” She pushed his buttons and she knew it.

“Because I fucking couldn’t, alright?” Hwoarang drew up to full height, taking a hard pull of the weed, not finding the effects he wanted from the herbal cigarette.

“But why? Jin sure as hell thinks you are with him…everywhere you go, Steve is like your shadow. Even I am having a hard time believing you haven’t whored yourself off to a new conquest.” She watched the Korean start to pace, one hand raising and trying to swat away the comments that drove out of her lips.

“Do you get some kind of sadistic pleasure at putting me on trial? I cant do a fucking thing right by you, for him, can I?” He hissed, feeling open and vulnerable now. Jin meant more to him then he wanted to admit to someone, especially now when the threat of the Japanese youth walking away had been a real one. He had to acknowledge he didn’t know the first thing about his lover…had never taken the time to argue or talk, to push Jins buttons in this way. And equally, Jin knew nothing about him…about his life and why he was the way he was.

“Jin is in trouble, Hwoarang. I can not be the only one standing in the way of self destruction. Lay it on the line, why aren’t you fucking Steve Fox?”

Hwoarang was nearly beside himself, animated in a completely different way than Ling had ever seen him before. “Because I fucking love him, alright? Is that what you want to hear? Well, there, you heard it. I fucking love Jin…and it hit me tonight just how god damn much I do.”

Of all the things Hwoarang could have said, this was not what she thought would come out of those tainted lips. “You do! That’s…wow…a revelation.”

“Yeah, don’t go spreading it around.” The Korean said with a half smile. Those words had manifested itself out of agony…but they were true. The truest words he might have ever said…and the most frightening to admit to himself…and another person. What was most frightening was the ease in which the sentiment had formed, like a dam releasing the pressure and sending a flood out into dry land.

“That is why Jin keeps coming to you, Hwoarang. Don’t you see it? You’re the only one…that can love him that way…and you do…and that will be what saves him! Oh! I knew I could count on you!” She rose and rushed toward Hwoarang, embracing the hot headed rogue with pure happiness.

“Whoa, ease up there, Midget.” He laughed. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to love…and admit to himself that the emotion existed. It might create more pain than anything else…but at least someone knew…at least, he knew.

Ling released Hwoarang with a smile, taking the half burnt down joint from his fingers and inhaling thickly. “Well now, it seems the nature of the game has changed.”