Hwoarang's shoulderblades froze at the voice before he
responded.

"Domo."

Placing the pool stick against the table, he relaxed, twisting
his neck only slightly to accommodate the look that settled on Jin.
The 'what are you doing here?' look.

Kazama's eyes were indeed fixed acutely on his subject. He
lowered his arms slowly, still smiling loosely, conversationally. One
wide-set shoulder rose in a shrug as he addressed the question about
which he'd been thinking for quite a while. "You still have my
lighter."

The comment earned a stare intense enough to humble a three-
headed hydra. The almond skin that separated linear, dark brows
furrowed, lending inscrutability to the expression etched over
Hwoarang's youthful face. After a moment his lips twitched with the
bud of an incredulous grin, and he shifted to a stance perpendicular
to the Japanese.

" .. you're kidding, right? Cuz, well .. " He raised a hand
to the back of his neck, averting his eyes. "I sort of misplaced it."

Eyes that only looked brown in the light lowered to the empty
pool table, an expression of mellow amusement on his now-thawed face.
He had prepared himself to appear mellow if -- when -- he met up with
Hwoarang, in hopes it made things easier.

"Saa. I guess I'll make due." Jin looked at Hwoarang and then
back to the table as his thumbs hooked over the pockets of his jeans -
- his favorite jeans, faded blue and beginning to fray at the cuffs.
His jacket was unzipped but made too narrow a gap to see his shirt.
Jin forced a smile before he spoke again.

"Hey."

"Nah, I'm not that good yet." Hwoarang admitted flippantly,
wrapping his muscle-lined arms around the back of the chair as he
faced Jin. Like pools of palpable warmth, his rich, reddish eyes
traipsed over the serene Japanese features as he spoke with honesty
he could afford on this subject. "I lose a lot of cash - but hey -
I'll never get good if I don't practice, right?" Shrugging, his
lips remained set in an immutable, easy grin.

"Right. I mauled a lot of bonsai before I was finally able to
trim them properly; I keep several of them at home. Have you ever
tried to tend one? I think it must be like taking care of a baby." He
rested comfortably against the back of the booth, his jacket folded
and resting in the seat between Jin and the wall.

" . . . can't say I have." The man they called 'Fatal
Lightning', who leapt out warehouse windows in a single bound tended
flowers? Hwoarang-five-weeks-ago would have wasted no time haranguing
what he took to be a self-admitting pansy, after he first got over
his disbelief. But he managed to answer, without making his initial
inclination to laugh and subsequent surprise too evident. Call him
softened. Kazama was interesting.

" .. what got you into that?"

Just picture Jin in his trademark black, enflamed gi pants and
red handguards ... stooped over a tiny potted tree with a little
watering can in one hand and a pair of shears in the other. Jin did
often and was the first person to smile at his own expense on the
matter.
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