This is yaoi folks, don't likey, no ready. It'll make your stomachs turn. Yes likey? Well then, this is right up your alley and you'll squeal like a fan girl until you pass out- hopefully. Read and review please!

CH1- Return of the Blood Talon- And the Sneaker Pimp.

Hwoarang took another drink from the flask before tossing it back to one of his gang members. It was Fey that caught it, she stuck it in her top, it wouldn't have been so apparent a while back, but ever since he'd left to the tournament his gang had gone through many hungry nights.

"So what do you have to bet?" asked the other gang leader peering at the leader of the Hawks. When they'd had the famous Blood Talon they'd run the streets, but apparently he'd left and all they'd gotten after he left was this pretty boy with a bad limp.

"…We'll meet whatever you bet," replied the Korean calmly. He ran his hand through his sleek red hair calmly. He knew that was a lie, but he didn't plan on having to pay up. Injured or not he was sure he could beat this fucker.

"Sorry kid, but the Hawks lost street credibility when the Blood Talon left. You're going to have to promise something more solid than that….She's looking pretty solid." he said nodding to Fey. Fey looked around trying to understand what was being said. She was a little American who hadn't learned any Japanese yet. He could agree, no one would say anything.

"No."

The gangsters immediately translated for the single female member and she looked to Hwoarang with admiration in her eyes.

That was beneath his honor. "…Then how about you?"

Hwoarang was surprised that he'd suggest such a thing in front of his entire crew, then again he was apparently a good enough opponent that he could be so candid about his sexuality.

"…Fine. One night with me, but if you lose, the three k is ours,"

"Fine," said the gangster grinning and looking him over.

Hwoarang pulled into form. It was almost like when he'd started. When he'd left everyone had known the name of the Hawks and the face of the blood Talon, apparently two years was enough to make them forget and now he was back with his hair shorn and his eyes calm. The limp he'd acquired during the fourth tournament would have cooled many men's eyes.

Hwoarang however wasn't many men. Not many men would have felt an almost fatherly responsibility to a street gang of misguided youths who lived in an apartment in the ghetto of Japan.

Fey made a dirty hand gesture at the leader who narrowed his eyes at her. "That's her way of saying you don't stand a chance," said Hwoarang calmly allowing a small smile to come to his lips. A wiser man upon seeing the fire emerging from behind the ice would have run.

This gangster was not a wiser man.

He smiled and pulled into a kick boxer's stance. Hwoarang smirked. His old expression. He hadn't fought in a while and he intended to have fun with this.

XxXxX

"Man! You just got rent, every bit of our street cred, and food for a week!" said Ace hanging off his shoulder. "How do you handle how much of a bad ass you are?"

"With caution," replied Hwoarang taking his friend's hands off his shoulders in a friendly manner as Fey ran behind them counting the money and saying figures in English. She always had been the best one with money.

They walked up to the apartment the guys chatting either about Hwoarang's victory or the effect the money would have on their lifestyle. Everyone was happy. Hwoarang smiled. "You were really cool!" said Fey in her strange accent and choppy sentence structure.

"Thanks Fey, I learned a lot of new tricks at the tournament." he replied stopping in front of the apartment complex. The light of their apartment was on. They all stared silently at the window then at him. They knew he'd evaded the military and on top of that had gained a few dangerous enemies at the tournament. And they were all willing to fight to keep him. Ace pulled out a knife, Fey stuck the money in her pants and did likewise.

Hwoarang held up a hand. "Stay here."

"No!" said Ace through his teeth. "Any mother-fuckers that mess with you-"

"Stay here."

XxXxX

As Hwoarang walked into the apartment he pulled out his gun. He didn't like using them but it was always a disadvantage to be without one when your opponent wasn't. He looked around the dim room. There were at least ten well built men. He was glad he hadn't drawn his gang into this lion's den.

"Gentlemen, what can I do for you?" he asked smiling his cocky grin.

"You were the last to come in contact with Jin Kazama."

He groaned and rolled his eyes the tenseness going out of his body in an almost humorous manner. "You're the Kazama family's lackies. I've had enough of you motherfuckers what do you want?"

"…We wish to know Jin's location. We're well aware that he's in this city. And we're also well aware that you're the one connection he has in this city."

Hwoarang was still now. His head was down so dark red bangs concealed his eyes. ?" he asked in an unreadable voice. "You think I'm that motherfucker' s connection?"

XxXxX

"You think we should go…What is that word…before him?" asked Fey.

"I think you should learn fricking Japanese," growled back Ace in his irritation. Everyone was tense now that their fearless dumbass leader had gone up into a potentially dangerous situation alone and it would figure the only one there who didn't speak Japanese would have the nerve break the silence.

"Shut up asshole!" she growled. The first thing she'd ever learned in Japanese- From Hwoarang strangely enough.

It was at this moment that Hwoarang walked out. "What took you so damned long!" growled Ace.

"I had to close our account here. We're moving, this is a crappy neighborhood."

"What?" sputtered Ace. "Where!"

"To a place with better locks," growled Hwoarang.

XxXxX

Jin sat in the corner of the booth with the hood of his sweater pulled down. His food had come long ago. It had grown cold long ago. He knew he should eat. The devil gene was far less likely to emerge when he was in good physical shape.

But he hadn't felt like eating since after the tournament. When he'd found out that somehow, not only did his grandfather survive…but his father as well.

And his father still possessed the devil gene as well.

It seemed the only important person in his life who would stay dead was his mother. He let out a sigh. "What do you want?"

"I want to know why Mishima's fucking punks were at my apartment when I got home tonight."

"How did you find me?"

Hwoarang rolled his eyes. "Rich motherfucker like you? Who couldn't find you?"

"Mishima's fucking punks," replied Jin.

"Answer my question Jin. Before I knock your dumb ass into that jukebox."

"They know that you know me. They must have figured on you knowing where I was," he said putting a folded twenty on the table as he walked out.

Hwoarang grabbed the twenty before running after him. "Where the hell are you going? We have unfinished business!"

"I'm done with the fighting Hwoarang. Besides, you're permanently injured." said Jin calmly. Hwoarang stopped abruptly. That had hit a nerve.

"Damn right I am. But that doesn't mean I can't still fight. And it's your fault in the first place. So I think you owe me a damned explanation."

Jin stopped at his car with a sigh. "Get in."

"What?"

"You want an explanation? Get in the damned car."

XxXxX

Jin didn't know why he'd done it. Well, he had a vague idea. Mishima's men had gone after him directly after a tournament. Upon hearing of a quiet young fighter running about the underground they'd gone after the bait. They found him, unfortunately they'd found his rival Hwoarang as well, looking for a rematch as always.

Always in the spirit of fighting an authority, Hwoarang and he fought side by side. Until he was shot in the back of the calf. It was then that Jin's demon gene kicked in getting a strange high off the scent of Hwoarang's blood.

He'd apparently killed all the Mishima guards- before turning on Hwoarang. Hwoarang had fought him until Devil shot out his arm, grabbing his wounded leg, and twisting it at an awkward angle. Hwoarang hadn't screamed or begged. He probably never would. So far as the security tape had shown, all he'd done was glare straight into the Devil's eyes.

For some reason the demon stepped back shaking it's head as if in pain before flying off into the night. Hwoarang had never mentioned it before, though they'd met several times after tournament, fighting mechanically in their attempt to act as if it had never happened.

Even now as the red head changed the radio station repeatedly insulting his choices in music, he had to wonder why Devil hadn't finished him off.

XxXxX

Jin pulled off to the side of the road and got out of the car soon followed by the red head who tried his best to hide his limp, though it was a pointless effort since any true fighter with good enough ears could hear the discrepancy in his walk.

It didn't go unnoticed by Jin who pulled his hoodie more tightly around him. There was something about the Korean that could impress him every time. Hwoarang had to know that Jin could hear the limp, yet his gait was only mildly cautious, probably something done out of habit to avoid stares more so than to hide a weakness- though knowing Hwoarang that was probably part of it.

Hwoarang himself was having thoughts of his own on the Japanese boy. He knew at a normal match he'd do well against Jin. He wasn't, however, in a normal condition. Nor did he consider Jin's turning into a demon a normal condition, in fact even he shuddered at the thought that those detached brown eyes could become intense with unprecedented hate.

He ran his hand back through his crimson locks as he observed that this was indeed the perfect place to dump off a body and decided to be a bit more on guard when it came to Kazama. He turned to Jin and stiffened at the sight of those deep brown eyes focused intently on him in that disquieting quiet manner the Japanese boy had.

"What are you staring at?" growled Hwoarang gruffly.

He was unsatisfied, naturally, when he didn't receive a negative response from Jin. Only a raised brow. Jin then turned his back on him. Hwoarang bristled. True he was injured, but he hardly considered himself a dormant threat!

"You wanted to know so something,"

Hwoarang was naturally irritated that Jin was simply ignoring his blatant hostility with a cool but serene calm, but he had wanted to know. He lowered his head, his dark red hair covering his eyes. "Jin. What was that…that that attacked me that day? And…why didn't it…finish me off?"

Jin didn't know whether or not he should be offended by the fact that Hwoarang insisted on calling his alter ego an it. It could either mean that he considered Jin to be a man who morphed into a mindless beast, or it could be that Hwoarang saw Jin and the beast as entirely different entities. Either way, something about that proud head being lowered called out to him.

"…The devil gene…runs in my family, from what I know, Heihachi wants to genetically alter me into something else, if he doesn't find my father first…Sometimes, the devil takes over."

Hwoarang was silent. It was difficult to believe, but then, he'd witnessed it first hand, he spun around. "And my last question?" he asked sharply.

Jin stiffened. "Why didn't it finish you off? You ask as if you'd rather-" he cut himself off as Hwoarang stiffened. Jin froze and looked at the fighter who would permanently have one shoulder slightly higher than the other. Once a proud fighter. He turned in disgust to think that Hwoarang's fire was now false. "I don't have time for this. Get in the car. I'll drive you back."

"Screw you Kazama, I'll walk," growled Hwoarang. He hadn't learned anything relevant, that and the fact that he didn't know what would have been relevant irritated him enough to want to walk the fifteen to twenty miles home. Hopefully he wouldn't run into any more of those damned Mishima bastards

"Damnit Hwoarang. Just get in the car."

"I don't need your sympathy." said Hwoarang not looking over his shoulder. With about five feet down already he only had about twenty more miles to go.

Suddenly the Blood Talon felt himself spun around violently as Jin's hand dug into his right arm. "Get in the car Hwoarang."

Hwoarang narrowed his eyes- right as he was shoved into the passenger seat and shoved in right before the door was shut. "Damnit Jin!" he snapped.

Before he could even consider taking off Jin was already driving about seventy mph. He didn't fancy being a grease spot on the road, nor did he see fighting Jin until the car pivoted off the road and over the cliff as the best idea. So instead he crossed his arms and scowled.

XxXxX

Fey was just as surprised as the rest of the gang when an expensive sports car pulled up to the front of their crummy new apartment complex- with Hwoarang in it. "He's back!" she chirped happily- unfortunately the boys all rushed up to the window shoving her out of the way.

As she rubbed her rear she wished that Hwoarang had taught her a little more Japanese to cuss people out with. Either way, she's been worried about Hwoarang who had become somewhat of a big-brother figure to her. So immediately she went to open the door.

Outside the door however, were several men in suits looking down the hall as if they were waiting for someone. Their suits bore the Mishima emblem. She paled. "A-Ace…" she whimpered, backing away from the now closed door.

XxXxX