I'm writing this partially out of love for Xiaoyin and partially to vent (in a roundabout way) why I so vehemently dislike the idea of JinxNina. If you want to know details about my fervent opposition to such a pairing, let me know, and I'll somehow find time in my schedule to make you a quality PowerPoint presentation, complete with citations to scientific articles. You might think I'm kidding. I'm not.

Also, I think a lot of people don't really understand or appreciate how great Xiaoyu is. She gets dismissed as a stereotypical schoolgirl stalker, but I'm convinced that there's so much more to her than that. That's another reason why I wrote this. Again, if you want to a PowerPoint presentation, ask for one.

Obviously, I own nothing in Tekken; otherwise, I would have made sure the writing was executed much, much better.

Speaking of good writing, I haven't edited this much, but I'm too sleepy to care at the moment. If it needs to be fixed, I'll take care of it later.

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Miharu wasn't as unintelligent as people sometimes presumed. Sure, her strengths didn't lie in mathematics, and she'd rather peel off her own skin than sit through a physics class, but that didn't mean that her other talents were worthless. For example, she was awesome at predicting and analyzing romances. If there were professional tournaments for soap opera critics, she would win all of them. Every single one. She was that good.

But she sighed sadly as she watched her dear friend, Xiaoyu, biting her nails next to her as they sat under their regular tree to "study" (that's what they always said they'd do there, but it never failed to turn into jabbering about any and all subjects that came to their minds). As if Jin's numerous unexplained absences weren't already stressful enough for her, some redheaded jerk (a really hot redheaded jerk, but that's beside the point) had to go and tell her during the sixth King of Iron Fist Tournament that if Jin actually had been interested in her before, he certainly wouldn't be now. He had grown too dark. Too cold. The blood of thousands of innocent people had spilled onto his hands. No, that made his role sound too passive. The truth was that he had actively sought bloodshed like an insatiable god of war. If he were still capable of love, he would need someone who could understand these parts of him. So stated the ever-so-omniscient (and gorgeous) redhead. Immediately, Miharu had rolled her eyes. However, Xiaoyu, vulnerable and exhausted from years of pain, longing, and rejection, wondered if he was right.

That was a week ago. In the days since then, Xiaoyu had been unnervingly quiet. Usually, she could still at least pretend to be happy, as she had done ever since Jin's first appearance after the third tournament, but lately, it seemed she could only manage furrowed brows and mangled fingernails. Miharu reached out to stop Xiaoyu from completely destroying one of them with her teeth. Xiaoyu shot her friend an absent-minded smile and apology, then opened her history book and stared blankly at a single sentence. It was a pitiful sight. It had to stop.

"Xiao, do you want to talk about what that guy said?" Miharu asked.

"What guy?" Xiao replied, raising her eyebrows and frowning the way she did whenever she wanted to seem ignorant.

"You know what guy," Miharu pressed. "That Korean guy with the weird name. Ho-rong or something."

"Oh, you mean Hwoarang," Xiaoyu feigned surprise that Miharu would bring him up. "Don't worry, I'm not bothered by what he said. I mean, it's..." She paused, and then her tone dripped with forced cheerful resignation. "It's probably true." Her hand shook as she turned a page in her history book.

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Miharu pulled the book away from Xiaoyu's hands. Her friend didn't fight to get it back, merely letting her gaze settle on her lap instead of the text. Only when Miharu crawled in her front of her and gripped her shoulders did Xiaoyu look up.

"It's not true," Miharu said firmly. "And when Jin finally comes to his senses, you'll see that."

As soon as tears started to gleam in her eyes, Xiaoyu closed them and shook her head. "I don't know what to do anymore, Miharu."

Shrugging, Miharu sat back, propping herself up with her elbows. "You'll do what you've always done - meet somewhere in the middle."

Xiaoyu hugged her knees so close to her body that only her huge, heartbroken eyes were visible. "What do you mean?"

There were few times in her life that Miharu couldn't find the words that she wanted to say, and this was one of them. Her mind was deluged with responses.

That's the way it had been since the beginning - an attraction of opposite personalities with the same core. Some of their differences were obvious even to people who barely knew them.

For example, she had a reputation for being enthusiastic, friendly, and optimistic, almost childlike in her silliness. That was hardly a secret; she constantly wore her heart on her sleeve. Jin was always decidedly more cynical, aloof, and cool-headed. It was like she could fly, so she would lift him up, but he also helped her stay grounded so that she wouldn't float away on the breeze of her own whimsy. They met somewhere in the middle.

When they had first met, Xiao was participating in the tournament to achieve her personal ambitions, whereas Jin simply wanted to avenge his mother (Miharu knew no further details than that, despite her numerous attempts to pry). In other words, Xiaoyu prioritized pursuing happiness, and Jin put his sense of moral duty first. Jin's devotion to his mother and Xiao's unabashed willingness to love her own dreams inspired both of them to think outside of their own little worlds. They met somewhere in the middle.

Furthermore, even before Jin became the CEO of the Mishima Zaibatsu, he had all the privileges afforded to a grandson of the great Heihachi, including disgusting amounts of wealth. Now that Jin controlled the company, he probably had enough to buy heaven itself. And hell, for that matter. Xiao's family, while not suffering, could never hope to match that kind of fortune. Of course, almost everyone looked like a pauper next to the Mishima family. When Jin and Xiao would hang out together after classes, they'd take turns paying for their activities, as if their vastly different social standings met absolutely nothing. They met somewhere in the middle.

Although they let her move to Japan, Xiao's Chinese parents maintained a healthy and loving relationship with her. She also had a doting grandfather nearby. Jin's only family was Heihachi, who was a grandfather only on paper. The solitary Kazama may as well have had no family at all. His situation humbled Xiao, who used to take her pleasant family life for granted, whereas Xiao's guileless warmth made Jin feel as though he belonged somewhere. They met somewhere in the middle.

Xiaoyu the extrovert was a city girl through and through. The introverted Jin vastly preferred the forest, and the farther away he was from civilization, the better. Miharu distinctly remembered a time when they both agreed to spend a few days in each other's favorite places for no other reason than to understand each other better. As a result, Xiao had managed to find something for Jin to enjoy in the city, and Xiao had developed a much greater appreciation for nature. They met somewhere in the middle.

She always loved daytime and sunlight, but Jin preferred rain and nighttime darkness. But it didn't matter the time or the weather. They would spend hours on end together, no matter what. They met somewhere in the middle.

When they were upset or hurt, Xiao dealt with it through diversion - going to an amusement park was always her favorite distraction, of course - while Jin became obsessed with whatever was bothering him. Before they were separated after the third tournament, Jin had a way of convincing Xiao to confront her problems, and Xiao knew how to help Jin relax. They met somewhere in the middle.

Jin excelled in academics, but Xiaoyu had him soundly beat in terms of emotional intelligence. He helped her with her homework; she helped him make friends and stop hating himself so much. He rarely smiled before she moved to Japan, and she may not have passed algebra without his tutoring. He could always see the big picture, while she was an expert with the details. Jin tried to do everything himself, yet Xiaoyu sometimes relied too much on others. Although she was often criticized for it, Xiaoyu was capable of profound faith. Heck, she could even believe in time machines. Jin had very little faith in anything. They enlightened each other, taught each other, inspired each other, and made up for each other's weaknesses. Unfailingly, they met somewhere in the middle.

Of course, it must be mentioned that she's short, and he's tall. If they wanted to hug or almost kiss (which happened frustratingly often), Xiao would stand on tiptoe while Jin leaned down. They met somewhere in the middle. Come on. That's just adorable.

Indeed, all of this was the foundation for a cute romance on the surface, but truthfully, it went so much deeper than that.

In all the ways that mattered most, they were exactly alike.

At first, they had bonded over the only two things they knew they had in common - their mutual love for martial arts and their regard toward Heihachi has a grandfather figure. Then they realized that they were both lonely and dreaded rejection - Jin because he couldn't relate to his peers on any level and Xiao because her popularity couldn't make up for the fact that most people easily dismissed her because of her personality, mistaking cheerfulness for apathy and naivete for stupidity. It didn't take long for them to realize that they also held a similarly fierce sense of loyalty to their ideals and loved ones. Also, thought Miharu with a smile, their reactions to developing romantic feelings was to deny their existence to anyone who asked about them.

As their relationship deepened, Jin found in Xiaoyu someone who could embody everything that he valued most - especially the determination to promote peace over contention, the desire to bring joy to the lives of others, the willingness to forgive and hope for the best, the belief that people can overcome their darkness and become the best versions of themselves, and the conviction that physical power and social prestige are ultimately meaningless. It was Jin's mother who had taught him to value these things, and from what little Miharu knew about Jin's mother, she gathered that Jin cherished her above all. It seemed deeply significant to him that Xiaoyu would be able to fill some of the hole left in his heart because of his mother's disappearance. Xiaoyu, by the same token, ardently appreciated that Jin could see depth in her that few other people did; it meant the world to her that someone believed in her in the same way that she believed in everyone else.

They weren't merely opposites who found each other fascinating, although that was part of the attraction. Their personalities and preferences masked the fact that their souls were mirror images of each other - lonely, yet full of hope and a yearning to do good in the world. They could relate to each other in the deepest sense, finding common ground effortlessly while their differences allowed them both to expand and grow. That was why they were continuously gravitating toward each other.

And the soul is something that doesn't change, not at its essence. Although she wasn't as outspoken about it, Miharu agreed with Xiaoyu that the Jin they knew must be sleeping somewhere beneath all his apparent layers of corruption.

But even with all these similarities, there was still one crucial difference. Despite the way that things appeared on television, Miharu always had a hunch that there was more to Jin's warmongering ways than a mere lust for power. The fact that he would specifically tell Xiaoyu to stay out of the Mishima family's affairs instead of ignoring her altogether suggested to Miharu that he was genuinely concerned about her safety. Although Xiaoyu was determined to protect him by fighting to be at his side, his way of protecting her was to keep his distance.

Everything was so unpredictable lately that Miharu couldn't say for sure whether they would find a way to meet in the middle this time, but she had faith that they would. After all, there was one crucial characteristic that set Xiaoyu aside from the rest of the world, and it was this: While everyone else makes assumptions about Jin's guilt, she assumes his innocence and asks questions aimed at understanding the truth behind his actions. If anything would let them meet in the middle, it would be Xiaoyu's unwavering faith in him. Besides, as she told Xiao just a moment ago, they'd always done it before.

The idea that Jin could or should find love with someone who would only feed into his coldness, his isolation, and his propensity for killing - especially since none of that was true to the core of his soul - was ludicrous to Miharu. But Xiaoyu was afraid that she wouldn't get through to him no matter what she did, so the doubts of those around her were starting to wear her down.

A strange image flashed unbidden through Miharu's mind-Jin, burdened with chains and suspended by pitch-black wings, reaching down toward Xiaoyu, who had her feet on the ground and her hand grasping for his. It was entirely different from the way that Miharu usually imagined them - Xiaoyu, buoyed in the air by her own optimism, grabbing Jin's hand to pull him upward while he in turn tried to keep her close to the earth - but Miharu's intuition told her that it somehow fit. Things were changing.

"Miharu? What did you mean by meeting somewhere in the middle?"

The words snapped Miharu out of her reverie, and she realized that had yet to answer Xiaoyu's question. With a sly smirk, she cocked her head to the side and said, "What I mean is that you always found a way to grow together and hold on to each other. That's why you became so close in the first place." Satisfied with that simple explanation, Miharu nodded to herself, deciding that the details of her observations could wait.

Silence settled between them as Xiaoyu pondered her words.

Then Xiaoyu slowly raised her head, gazing intently at the ground before her. "I have to find him, Miharu," she said. "He's been missing again since the conclusion of the sixth tournament. I'm absolutely certain that he's in danger. This time, we can't meet in the middle." Her eyes flicked toward Miharu, glowing with a ferocity that she usually only showed to her opponents. "This time, I have to go to where he is."

Miharu couldn't hide her alarm. "What are you talking about?"

"It's better if I don't tell you," Xiaoyu replied and she stood and brushed grass off her skirt, "and if I go alone." She then went to her knees and began reloading her backpack with her books and supplies. "It doesn't matter anymore whether I have a future with him. I just need him to be okay."

"Wait, but what if you get hurt?" Miharu asked worriedly.

"That's a risk I'll have to take," Xiaoyu said firmly. After zipping her backpack closed and slinging it over her shoulder, Xiaoyu glanced toward Miharu just long enough to add, "I know what I have to do."

With that, Xiaoyu walked briskly away, fists clenched and head held high.

Miharu shook her head as she watched her friend go. Then she turned her attention toward the looming Mishima Zaibatsu headquarters just a few blocks to the east. The sinking sun behind it cast interweaving palettes of warm colors in the glass walls and windows. The moon peeked between tufts of cobalt clouds.

Like the sun hovering between the horizon and the waking stars, its journey as inevitable as always, Jin and Xiaoyu would meet somewhere in the middle yet again. Miharu just knew it. She really was brilliant with romances.