A shimmer of light slipped through the water-stained window into the dark, crowded barracks. Stacks of beds lined up against the concrete walls as if they were wallpaper. A cold draft crept along the floor, searching for shelter from the blinding sun. All the tiresome souls lay curled up in their beds, hoping for another moment's rest before the day would begin. In a sudden moment, the door flung open, slamming against the cold, crumbling wall with clash.
"ALL RIGHT, GIRLS! WAKE YOUR ASSES UP!," the voice hollered from the doorway. The sound of men groaning, resonating around the lightly dimmed room as they slowly, hesitatingly gained consciousness.
"C'MON, WE DON'T GOT ALL DAY! YOU THINK WE'RE AT GRANDMA'S HOUSE!" the man roared as he stomped through the room, yanking blankets off of his subordinates. The loud man stood tall in his green camouflage clothes, glaring across the room as he scared the men out of their beds. He stared at one particular figure that remained in his peaceful state underneath the stiff, rigid blankets. The sergeant snorted, storming towards the man's bed. In one felt swoop, the blankets were ripped off the bed to reveal a red-haired Korean. The angry man hovered over the punk with his hands behind his back holding packages, waiting for a reaction that would beg to him to throw something at the kid. The Korean grunted as he rolled off his side to lie on his back with his elbows supporting his weight.
"You're lucky I wasn't sleeping nude, Sarge." The crimson man said with a smirk. The commander in charge stood looming over him as his eyes pierced the young man's soul.
"HWOARANG, one of these days I'm gonna kick your ass and tie it to the watch out tower," he retorted with a loud thundering voice.
"I love you too, Sarge," Hwoarang replied with a grin. Within a second, the taunted sergeant whipped his hand from behind his back, flinging a huge envelope at the kid's face. The package collided into the Korean's face with a rather loud smack that made him holler a cry. The yell satisfied the sergeant with an air full of victory.
"Not as much as I love seeing you in pain," He said with a gloat as he walked away to harass the rest of his fellow men. Before he could torment another being he couldn't resist to turn around and say, "Oh, and you got mail." The overseer laughed, leaving the kid in his painful state and continued about his annoying ways. Hwoarang was still hunched over, rubbing the pain away as he glared at his superior. He comforted his pain away and glanced at the package that laid on the ice cold floor. It took all of but second for Hwoarang to realize the package was from China. He leaned over the edge of his creaking bed, reaching for tanned envelope. He pulled it into his grasp and flipped it over to reveal its returned address, even though he already knew who it was from.
"Ling Xiaoyu." A soft smile appeared across his face for the first time in a long while as he ripped the envelope open. His hand slipped into the envelope and ended up pulling out a folded letter, a photo, and a magazine. He placed his mail gently on his evergreen sheets and fumbled as he tried to open the letter without ripping it. He hated it when people folded their letters into geometrical shape that made it impossible to open. As he struggled over the letter, he calmly told himself not to take a knife to it. Success! He had finally unfolded it to see a chibi picture of Ling hugging a tired, army Hwoarang.
I MISS YOU! You said we were going to hang out more after the Tekken 3 Tournament was over and you go and join the army! You better have a good excuse for that or else I'm going to come down there and give you a spanking right in front of your platoon! Is it Platoon? Or is it Squad? Anyway, I'm sure it's lonely without your little sister annoying you! So, write me back so we can plan our trip to Japan! I've-"
Hwoarang stopped in his tracks and reread that last sentence, "Plan our trip to Japan?" he said confused. He picked up the magazine hoping for some sort of clue as to what she was talking about. He looked over magazine, reading the katakana title aloud, "Summer Events?" He groaned as he tossed himself on his nearly broken bed, covering his head from all of the confusion.
"What is that girl thinking!" he cried. He rolled the magazine up in his rough hands, it wasn't long before he felt a flap sticking out of the pages. Curiosity struck across his face as he gazed at the unraveling of the magazine in his callused hands. His mind hoped for an understanding that would be show when he flipped the magazine open to the flap. The moment he laid eyes on the page, all of the emotions were wiped from his face. Bitterness swept up inside his soul as he stared at the image that was before him.
"The King of Iron Fist Tournament 4"