Loose Ends
Disclaimer: I do not own Black Lagoon. I am not the first person to write a fic in this series. I am perhaps the second…And I want to shoot myself. Gomen, I erased this fic before due to my love for reedits. Anyway, enjoy! Please Read and Review...
Along the coastal jetty surrounding this secluded island commune stands the resolute statue of Buddha, a peaceful moniker in the midst of a city in chaos. Beyond the entrance gates lies a seedy paradise for mobsters, killers, drug dealers, and pimps, the dregs of humanity who have fallen far into the black. This is purgatory, a place where good will is a foolhardy gesture, where the weak are found lying in an alleyway, dying in a pool of their own blood.
Ronapura. A cross road for sinners and saints.
Some would call this place heaven. Others believe this is hell. I call this home, but only because it's too late for me to turn back.
It's business as usual here in Ronapura, and business is good. Not clean, mind you, but good. Just between you and me, I'm not really sure what I'm still doing here. I'm a Japanese businessman, or I was a businessman before I "joined" the Black Lagoon. Didn't really have much choice in the matter; it was either stick with the wolves or get fed to the dogs.
And I didn't survive this long just to get served on someone else's plate.
My name is Rokuro Kajima, but everyone in the group knows me as Rock.
Now I'd be lying if I said that this is an improvement over office work. The work schedule is tight, and the hazard pay comes cheap. We run into trouble everywhere we go, we're lucky to get stuck in random cross fires once or twice a week, and we get our hands dirty taking on illegal enterprises for the rich (and often vile) powerhouses who rule this backwater country.
Out here, we're the best of the best (at least, that's what Revi thinks.) Benny handles networking. Dutch calls all the shots. Revi does most of the shooting, and I'm left with all the paperwork.
It's a rough crew.
For once, I'm alone and I am glad for it. It's one of our rare off days; Balalaika doesn't have any jobs for us, and Mr. Chan seems to have a handle on things. That leaves the whole day free to us...
But that's not necessarily a good thing.
Revi loves going out on jobs. It gives her the opportunity to do what she does best. For her, the pay is just as gratifying as the kill. Simply put, Revi is a firestorm just dying for release.
No job means no release. No release is a bad thing. No release makes her irritable, and bored. Revi's never happy when she's bored. Two guesses who she seeks for "moral support."
Revi's probably looking for me now. Sorry, Revi. Not going to happen today. I have no intention to wake up tomorrow morning, bruises and all, just to find out I was used as your punching bag.
Seriously, Revi, when you get bored, you get drunk, and when you get drunk, you go crazy. You shot up the air conditioning unit the last time you went on a binge...And took the rest of the living room with it. Benny must've blown a fuse when he'd found you'd shot his laptop full of holes.
That incident wouldn't have been so bad if you hadn't tried to pin it on me.
I'm glad I took the car; there's no way you're going to follow me this far out without a ride. Three hours have gone by, and all is at peace. Not even the gangsters gambling at the tables behind me seem interested in starting a fight. Just as well. It really is a nice, summer day.
I'm sitting peacefully at the counter, nursing a cold one, when my cell phone rings.
"Hello-"
Her voice explodes like an RPG going off in my ears.
"Teme! You dare run away from me?!! I swear, when I find your ass, your balls are going to be hanging off my-"
It's futile to reason with her in such a state, so I swiftly shut off the phone.
"Gomen ne, Revi," I murmur to no one in particular. "I'll get back to you later."
Oh, I'll get back to her, all right.
As soon as she's sober, sometime tomorrow morning. I think I'll ask Eda for a room just for tonight...
Speaking of rooms, the room is starting to spin. God damn it, I drank too much. I'm so busy getting my bearings back that I hardly notice the person taking the stool right next to mine.
"She is quite vulgar and rude, isn't she?"
Her voice flows beautifully like diaphanous silk. It's off-handedly prim and polite...And feminine, unlike the reckless Revi. She sounds familiar, but the alcohol is making me slow.
"She's rough around the edges," I admit with a chuckle. "She's always like that."
"She must give you a hard time."
"...She's not that bad."
"..."
I bow my head and sigh.
"Am I that transparent?"
"Regardless of how you defend her, Miss Revi is a bad woman. She thinks she can get away, threatening Waka-sama with a gun."
I am distinctly aware of the alarm klaxxons blaring at the back of mind.
"Have we, er, met before, Miss...?"
I just happen to glance to my left, and at that very moment sobriety kicks in.
Oh, my…
I try to sit up, but the clearing of her throat suggests that I remain sitting. Orders me, really. I take a second glance just to make sure that the alcohol hasn't been messing with my mind.
A crown of lilac veils the upper half of her face, shading her features from the bar room lights above. A pair of braids spill majestically down the sides of her neck, like twin streams of silk against the backdrop of her prim, chambermaid's dress. A worn traveler's suitcase stands propped to her right, and an orange parasol lies neatly in her lap. As per usual, her eyes are hidden behind a pair of round, reflective eyeglasses.
Her real name is Rosary DeCisneros. She is infamously known as the Hound of Florencia. I know her by another name...
"...Hello, Roberta."
"Ah, I see there's no need for me to introduce myself."
She's not pointing a gun at me, at least not blatantly. You'd have to be sharp to realize that that's a shotgun barrel poking at the end of her parasol. It's sitting innocently enough, but it's still pointed at me.
I unloosen my tie, if only to give my trembling hands something to do.
"So, what brings you here?" I ask, of my own accord.
"..."
"Ah, gomen-"
"You're entitled to ask," She enthused, placidly enough. "Whether I answer you is a different case entirely."
"I see..."
"For the sake of your health, please refrain from inquiring any further. There are some loose ends that must be tied before the week is over, and I do not intend to have you as my first."
"...In that case, I won't ask."
"That would be much appreciated, Mister…"
"R-Rock."
She seems to contemplate this for a moment. The parasol slides harmlessly on its own accord, much to my relief.
"Ah. Waka-sama spoke well of you, Rokuro Kajima. He says you are different. I'm inclined to agree."
"Ne, Roberta, not everyone would take 'different' as a compliment," I say, not unkindly.
"Sou?"
"Iiya, it's no matter, really. It's fine."
We sit at the counter quietly for a few minutes. I watch Roberta staring steadily at the glass of beer that had been set before her by the wary barkeep. The barkeep is eying her from behind his wrinkled newspaper, perhaps fearing (once again) for the longevity of his beloved bar.
"Is there something you wish to say?"
She's still staring at her drink, or so the barkeep thinks. It's hard to tell what she's looking at, especially when her frames reflect everything back.
"What?" The barkeeper starts.
"I said is there something you wish to say."
"N-no."
He doesn't get the message, so she spells it out for him.
"Leave."
Roberta's hard glare seems to follow him all the way out to the back. His footsteps recede down the basement even as Roberta switches her attention back to me.
"Excuse my rudeness. I did not like that man. He was listening in on our conversation. Now that he is out of the way, I would like to ask…"
"Yes?"
"What is...This?" She inquires, tapping her glass.
"That's beer."
"Is it, now?"
Roberta takes a sip and stops. She sets it aside with no further comment.
"Where are you going?" I ask as she walks behind the counter.
She wordlessly rummages through the shelves, and comes up with an expensive bottle of vintage red wine.
"That's really steep stuff."
"The barkeep won't mind," Roberta nonchalantly shrugs. "And if he does, I can always ease his grief with a few grenades."
She serves herself a new glass. As an afterthought, she pours a second glass to go along with it.
"Domo arigatou."
It's my first taste of the strong elixir, but apparently it's not her first. Roberta sips away without once flinching. She's on her fourth glass by the time I'm halfway through my first.
She really is unstoppable. I'm smiling, despite myself.
"So how long are you planning to stay?" I genially ask.
"Not long, hopefully. I expect to remain here for two days and two nights. I just arrived this morning."
"You came here straight away?"
"Iie," She replies in the negative. "I wandered the streets for two hours, searching for vacancies. No openings are available at the present time."
"They're just afraid of your reputation."
"…I see."
"Look, I can get you a place to stay."
I can almost hear Dutch sighing in the back of my mind. What am I doing, getting involved with this lady? Maybe the guys were right; my manners are going to be the end of me...
To my surprise (and perhaps with some dismay), Roberta is looking at me. Really looking at me.
"And where might I find this establishment?"
"It's up the hilly road out back. They call it the Church...Of…Violence."
I falter.
God in heaven, she actually looks interested…
"Sou."
"It's a quaint house of worship headed by Sister Yolanda. It's spacious enough, but keep in mind not to cause too much grief. The parishioners are not as forgiving as one would think..."
"I am aware of its reputation. I was referred to the place, but I was unable to locate the premises. Up the hill, you say?"
She pulls an elegant leg as she curtsies.
"Thank you. I shall be off now."
My hand shoots off on its own accord, catching her by the wrist.
"Wait…I'll go with you. I was planning to swing by the church, at any rate."
"...An honest gentleman," She intones serenely, staring straight at me. My hand is still on her wrist. I curse my stupidity and withdraw, posthaste.
"Ah, iiya, gomen ne, Roberta-san."
"..."
The whole room goes quiet as she flexes her knuckles.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Hold still."
"I don't think that's a good idea-"
"Hold still," She repeats a little more firmly. "Your tie is loose. Hasn't anyone taught you to look your best in public?"
Her hands slip harmlessly by my neck before I can say a word. She's not trying to choke me...I'm relieved, to say the least.
Of course I can do my own tie for myself, but I don't have the heart to stop her. She seems oddly determined to get this right.
"Hmm...How did this go?"
Roberta is glaring awkwardly at the ends of my silk tie, as if unsure where to begin. As she experiments with various knots, I begin to see that she's sorely unskilled in this activity.
"Before I left the other day, Waka-sama was trying to teach me how to tie a Windsor knot," She explains through grunts and growls. "I was curious as to how to accomplish this feat, but I did not quite catch the gist due to my sudden departure."
"Ganbatte, Roberta-san," I murmur, relaxing in spite of my awkward situation. Her face is lingering just a few inches from mine, and I can't help breathing in her scent. She smells like springtime; like apples, and oranges, and apricots.
I am faintly aware of something tearing in the background, but I pay it no heed.
I think I'm beginning to trust her.
Strange as it seems, she's not so bad, after all.
I'm brought back to attention at the sound of Roberta clearing her throat. She's glancing at me from over her tinted frames, and for the first time I can actually see her eyes. Her eyes are dark like the depths of the ocean, but they're not as cold as I was led to believe…
They are troubled, if not apologetic.
Hmm...Something's wrong.
"...I'm glad I have your attention, Mr. Rock. It's about your tie..."
"What happened? Did you get it stuck in a knot?"
She raises her hands to eye level. There are shreds of silk stuck between her gloves. It takes me a moment to realize what has happened.
"Ahhh! My tie!"
A/N: Let me tell you, this fic was hard to write! There's almost no way to make Roberta into a romantic character without making her AU, and I tried to avoid AUness to the best of my abilities. Maybe this'll be a one shot (more than likely) or I could do a second chapter, maybe in Roberta's point of view (that's going to be a toughie...) depending on how I feel on this.