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DISCLAIMER: All featured Tekken characters are the property of Namco and not the authors.

Notes: Constructive criticism is welcomed!

Warnings: Eventual lemon parts, language & violence.

After his grandfather's terrifying reprimand it had taken Jin a lot of compromise with the director of the Mishima Security Forces to allow Jin the right to come home from his night classes at Polytech by himself and not by chaufeur'd car. Hayase Keika probably knew that he needed some way to escape Heihachi's ironhold, even if these escapes were brief, and so she relented. Some nights he took a taxi, some nights he ducked into a coffeeshop before walking home, and other nights he simply wandered, losing himself as best he could -- it was a difficult task to seek self-isolation in the heart of Tokyo. Tonight, with his leather case slung over his shoulder, Jin was taking side streets back in the direction of home, his face bowed thoughtfully and downy strands of inky hair tickling over his eyes.

There was life was all around him, the sensations of a healthy city at night: laughter, cars, the smell of smog and what once must have been a clean night breeze. There was also running. Footsteps behind the Mishima heir grew faster and louder until someone ran into him -- that body was, shortly thereafter, followed by two more. The man with the determined look on his face was last. Long hair streaming along behind him, he ran, light on his feet. Jin's wrist was grabbed as he sprinted past, and pulling the student forcefully along behind him without so much as a glance, the man asked, "Did they take anything?" He did not slow down.

"I don't-- know," Jin blurted blankly, just before regaining his ground and pulling back on his arm. Jin was not a faceless student; not by any stretch of the imagination. But rather than retaliate against this sudden dilemma, however, he would much rather separate himself from it altogether and move on.

Lei Wulong jerked back. "Don't slow me down, boy," the Chinese man said. "Hong Kong International may need to ask you a few things." They were gaining on the three -- or rather, the slowest of the three. Dark eyes narrowed and his left hand disappeared from sight. There was a soft click.

Jin was puzzled over his vaguely familiar leader, but at the unmistakable sound of that click there are more vital things to worry about. He pursed his mouth gently, dismayed that there is no other choice but to shift his wrist in the man's fist into a counterhold and flip him onto the pavement. It would take two seconds at the most, since Jin was exhausted from Physics II.

To be thrown off-balance was hardly what Lei needed, especially when three potentially major informants were fifty feet away. As Jin began to flip him he chuckled, delighted that the boy who he had not yet so much as glanced at was capable of such a trick. He landed a tiny little kick on Jin's shoulder-- a nerve point -- and touched the ground in a kneel, grinding his teeth. Only one in sight now and leaving fast. He cursed under his breath.

Jin's peaceful expression swiftly grew serious once his arm was disabled. He wheeled about, already poised to continue defending himself, except-- "Wulong-san?" Jin's face went as slack as his left fist.

Lei would have been up and running again had not someone said his name. He paused, checked himself, and dug the voice up from his memory. "J-Jin!" He couldn't help but wonder what the boy was doing, being run into by drug-dealing pickpockets at this time of night without a bodyguard.

"What are you doing in T--" The Japanese was cut off by the whistle of a bullet, one of several parting gifts from the last of those fleeing men, and then he was swiftly diving for cover behind the closest dumpster.

Two more shots went off -- Lei's gun -- and one body fell. For targets of the Supercop, falling translated into death. "Shit." Another lead lost. The sirens up ahead signaled that the body would be taken care of by local police, and Lei would meet up with them later. Only one, and a dead one at that... No new information, and now the bastard Lei was tracking, an ex-cop and former human, would know he'd been followed this far.

Jin, on the other hand, was not out for heroics but self-protection. Once there was no noise but those sirens and everything seemed clear, he carefully rose. The running men were gone ... or most of them, anyway. Jin looked at the fallen body for a weighty moment and then turned towards the policeman, rubbing his dully tingling left shoulder. It was good for Lei that Jin was out sans the Mishima Security Forces, or he would be paying a price for getting a hit in on the last living Mishima scion. But then, one might say he deserved praise for that feat as well. "I'm sorry I distracted you."

Lei would have snapped something back had it not been the son of an old friend of his, to say nothing of the fact that Jin seemed to be a nice enough guy. He got to his slowly, disappointed more than he was tired. "Don't worry about it. There's always another chance further down the line."

"What are you doing in Tokyo, Wulong-san?" Jin's face was turned in the direction they had come, his eyes roving the pavement for his dropped bag. He saw it fallen to one side, lying half-open in a dingy puddle, and sighed softly. The sirens were getting louder, though, and they kept Jin's mind on the situation at hand. "Are you on duty?"

"Yup," he said, tucking his gun back into the shoulder-holster. "Lookin' for an old acquaintance; somebody who got tangled up in an underground drug ring. It's slow-going."

Jin gleaned what little lightness he could out of this situation, smiling faintly as he straightened his collar, which he always unbuttoned after class. "I’m sure you'll find the man you're after."

Lei smiled at that, and offered his hand. "You're a good kid," he said. "Y'do your mother proud." He paused, glancing Jin over as though for bullet wounds. "You doin' okay?"

Jin's smile grew more muted and solemn at the mention of his mother. "Thanks," he said finally, and reached to shake that hand; it was an unfamiliar gesture for Jin. "Yeah, I'm doing fine." The nearby police activity was troubling Jin, as well as the fact that he was keeping the policeman from his job. "Do you -- You wouldn’t want to meet sometime this weekend, would you?" he wondered tentatively, his outlook brightened at the possibility of a new acquaintance. Jin never met anyone new.

Lei stopped to consider the offer for a moment. "I wouldn't mind. You sure you don't have better things to do on a Saturday afternoon?" He was, after all, a self-proclaimed ‘old guy.’ Something was shouted in their direction in Mandarin, and Lei shouted back. He and the other policemen laughed.

"No," Jin assured, smiling to be polite after the laugher. "How about the -- um -- the American restaurant by Mishima Polytech?"

Lei nodded. "What time?" He wondered if he should bring back up.

"Noon?"

"Saturday good?"

"Sure. It sounds like they need you, though," Jin added, glancing at the police gathered beyond Lei, although his voice, naturally soft and polite, remained hinted with hope. "I'll see you then, okay?"

Lei laughed, delighting at Jin's enthusiasm. It had been a long time. "Saturday noon sounds just fine," he said. "You be careful on your way home, Jin."

Jin nodded. "You too, Wulong-san," he said with a smile and then hastened to retrieve his fallen bag. Crime scenes meant photography and pictures of Jin were printed in the paper far too often as it was.

"Later," called the policeman over the squeal of sirens. He turned his back on the Mishima boy, jogging to catch up with his colleagues.

Lei had gotten into town a little early for his scheduled meeting with Jin at "The American Restaurant near Mishima Polytech", and so he'd decided to go for a little walk. Tea had sounded awfully good, as he was a little wound-up from the work of the previous week. He'd ordered his standard green, and taken a seat at one of the tables on the street, watching the people drift by. It was a cool day. Good for walking.

On the cool day, a tandem of delinquents were in the mood for tea as well: Taisho and Ryo, kind of known in the neighborhood for intimidating businessmen and little old ladies with penchants for a good cup of green tea. As they rattled the glass door and came in with crooked grins and loud words, a few people got up and left.

Lei watched this with calm, observing eyes. He was casual for the day, out of uniform and therefore he didn't think they would see him as a threat. He made a note, in the back of his mind, of their heights, approximate weights, hair color, and facial features. He would not have a problem recognizing them again, if they caused even the least bit of trouble.

/Watch on, pig./ Taisho might have said if he knew The Man was near. He was the larger of the two gang members and known as "The General" -- usually when their leader wasn't around. He had bushy eyebrows and wore hockey jerseys. Ryo liked denim, and he liked flexing his bravado at those he was sure he could beat; presently, one of the servers was at his mercy, as he was holding one of the menus up to the poor woman's face and pointing with words of harsh instruction to her.

Lei frowned at the 'commotion', and got to his feet. Inside he slipped, watching with an air of cautious amusement. Arms folded over his chest.

With a loud clatter, the arrangement of china cups on a tray crashed into the floor, and a tiny voice yelped in horror. It was because flecks of amber were splattered all over Taisho's shoes, and he was glaring at the cowering culprit.

"Gomennasaigomennasaigomen" -- the mantra filled the air, and so did fearful gazes once Taisho yelled "WELL CLEAN IT UP, YOU CLUMSY BITCH!"

"You'd best watch your mouth, boy," Lei said, stepping in. "It wasn't her fault. Frankly," he said, moving to the girl's side, "I don't know anyone who wouldn't drop a tray of china, seeing someone with a face like that in public."

Having just arrived, Kazama Jin realized he was blocking the entrance only when someone asked for pardon. He apologized quickly but absently and moved out of the way, still staring.

"Look at the hero." Ryo grinned.

"Who's trying to be a hero?" Taisho demanded. "I hate when fuck faces try to be -- " But he recognized that particular fuck face, and his lips tightened on silence. He'd been run in on petty burglary charges last month and didn't plan on spending the night in the slammer.

Ryo, who didn't recognize him stood up and pierced Lei's chest with an index finger.

"You should mind your business, puss."

"Well, well, well, Tai-chan, look at this. Your little friend seems to be getting you into some pretty big trouble. Insulting an officer on top of those burglary charges are enough for me to take you on down to Central." Lei took hold of Ryo's index finger.

"Ano--" Jin murmured, almost to himself. He wasn't doing this as Kazama Jin; he was doing this as a concerned citizen. "There are people trying to relax here," he said calmly, softly. The reminder went for all three men, actually. Jin was allergic to being the center of attention.

"Of course there are. So," Lei said, turning to Ryo, "How about you and little Taiko over there just clean up this mess, apologize, and leave. I'm off-duty today and I was hoping to get a little relaxation of my own."

"What's stopping you?" It was a voice that wasn't Taisho's or Ryo's because Taisho'd went red in the face with a mute, shivering rage and Ryo was about to piss in fear. " .. it's not like you're the only cop in the city."

Lei turned to look, and he gritted his teeth. Hwoarang. Never did like that Korean boy.

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