Author's Note: I have chapter 3 of 'The Window to the Sky' to finish, but I find that night time helps me to write certain mindsets. I had, therefore, a full day ahead and a stressful moment to wind off from, so writing it was. So a basic idea and dysfuncional families it was. Supposed to be small, but I wrote 4 pages in a row and well, over 3000 words.
Disclaimer: I don't own Shingeki no Kyojin, obviously. I did miss writing about Kenny, that bastard.
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Ah, the smell of sewers. The heavy air stained with too many breaths and body stenches. The unclean streets and alleyways. The lack of sunlight.
Home.
Ah, how much he fucking hated this Underground human dump.
Kenny knew a lost case when he saw one. Even if it was his own family. The Ackermans were done for, the branches being chopped off one way or another. He might try to get a hold on everyone, see who was still kicking or who was being silently wipped out, but in the end it boiled down to nothing, did little to help his personal strife against the crown and against the world.
The Ackermans were dying and were expected to do it quietly and without fuss. That was what angried Kenny the most. Even his grandpa, stupid old bastard, was dying without a fight!
It boiled down to nothing because the remaining family members, even those more distant like the branch that had moved south to Wall Maria, weren't going to join him on killing MPs or going against the crown, or provide him with any answers as to their outcasting. His mental inventory was more for his own reckoning than anything else.
There was one part of the family he had more or less willingly left for later. One, it involved going back to this stinking place. Two, he hadn't seen Kuchel in years. Three...
Well, there wasn't much more to it. It was Kuchel.
Kenny was good at finding people. He knew the people to pry, who to question, knew the people he was hunting. The Underground was his territory, the streets that taught him to grow and where he still knew people. The ones he didn't, he'd make himself acquaintance.
So a search for his little sister started and led him from places of his past to new places that had appeared after he climbed up the stairs. Kuchel wasn't a name too known, but he did find a trace he could follow and that led him to a more concrete lead.
"Kuchel? Ah, she's pretty, blue eyes and long black hair? They change names there but there's a Kuchel I know. She's in that Honey brothel down the district, ya know the one?"
"Ah, brothels are always worth knowin'," Kenny smiled at the man as he sipped down beer. "Ya happen to know her?"
"Yeah, prices aren't too high there, it's cool. She's a pretty good fuck, too, ya should try."
"Thanks, pal." A swift shiny glide and there was beer and blood foaming out of his mouth. They hadn't exactly been close siblings, but big brothers had that basic emotionless protection over guys who pried on little sisters, right?
So here he was, at the entrance of this brothel. His mind distracted for an instance and made him note how long it had been since he was an active costumer in a place like that, rather than just coming by to take intel or rip some throats open. Seen from the eyes of a costumer, these Underground joints did have that filthy fascination that his teenager mind had ventured through. Seen from other set of eyes (he didn't exacly know which eyes, because he never cared before) it wasn't exactly a nice place to live in.
"Hello there, stranger," one of the prostitutes near the door waved at him, smiling with yellowed teeth. "Wanna come inside?"
Kenny grinned at her and laid a hand around her waist as he passed by.
"Well I can stop being a stranger now, eh?" he teased her, leaving her behind and stepping inside the brothel. Of course, he flirted with the ladies, and prostitutes were always handy in his realm of business, more than willing to help around if needed to distract some MPs. And were of course the best help after complicated nights when he needed to wind off.
He hadn't been to the Underground for a while though. It wasn't exactly his favorite hobby to go around and get some slap of nostalgic self consciousness, seeing the place where he came from and where many people would agree he belonged. And he probably did.
Nah, this dump wasn't his place. He deserved more, hence he got out of this and searched for more.
Brothels, in his experience, rarely varied. They had one purpose, after all, and pimps weren't exactly worried with anything but money. The girls that provided the money were secundary, most of the time. So it wasn't like this brothel was different from the ones he knew above ground, or the first ones he had tried in his youth down here. It might even be cleaner than that shithole in Wall Sina where he laughed off at the owner's face before he left him feeling lighter on the belly.
But what was it they said, smell was the best to trigger memories and whatever? This smell and this feeling were really familiar, they might just bring back some feels and memories from years past (Fuck that was a lot of years!). That is, if he gave a shit.
"Hey hey, what can I help ya with?" The man in the lobby asked, catching Kenny peeking around. Typical whore hoarder, he seemed bound to lose some teeth sooner rather than later. He was also fatter than most people Kenny had known down here, which in itself spoke volumes of his life style. "Really cheap prizes here, and great quality. See anyone ya like?"
"Ah, yeah, ya've got good girls here." Kenny tapped the balcony in a rhythm. The man kept his money locked in a box behind him, with some easier change ready to pull from a purse under his belly. Of course, he valued money. Maybe this one would consider that the girls were the source of income he needed, and kept a better mental checklist than it seemed at first sight. "I'm lookin' for a nice girl today."
"A blonde one? We got a, Stella, ya come here. This nice gent here would like to know ya."
"Yeah, she's good. But not what I'm lookin' for," Kenny added when the prostitute reacted to the pimp and approached.
"Aw, dontcha want my company?" she pretended to pout and rubbed herself on his jacket. "I'll keep ya very happy."
"I'm sure ya would, dear. Ya're just not what I'm looking for today."
"Ya'd be surprised..."
Kenny pulled her aside gently and turned to the pimp.
"Ya have a pretty brunette here? Young, big blue eyes..."
"Ah, recommendation! Ah my girls are good, mister."
"Yeah, I got that already. Look, I don't know if she's in your 'fine establishment', and I've come a long way. If she's not here, I gotta go knock some doors. Let's get to it, will ya?"
"I ain't a cockblocker, mister. Ya wonder girl's got a name?"
"Kuchel. She's around your list of girls or property?" The pimp groaned as ran his mental list, but the tongue click of the woman beside him was better. "Ya know the name, dear?"
"Uh? No I don't," the blonde prostitute lied, and Kenny grinned. His sly hand that so easily slipped around waists was a lot faster at grabbing people and friendly squeezing some arms. The prostitute tried to play along. "Well ya like it rough, huh...?"
"I like it even more when people sing what I wanna hear. So ya know a Kuchel?" The bruising of his fingers was his 'please'.
The prostitute held back a grunt, knowing from experience what was play and what was serious, but competition on these areas could be fierce, and a couple of cents extra was enough for them to fight one another if it came to. Annoyed and begrudged, she cocked her head towards the stairs.
"Ah, ya are a dear. Go call her, will ya?"
The pimp cared only for the prospect of business, so he didn't give a shit if a client gave orders to his girls in front of him.
"I'm sure ya'll rec our accomodations to yer buddies, eh?"
"Blah, shut the fuck up already," he threw at the pimp, starting to get impatient all of a sudden. Kuchel was really here? Fuck, it's not like it was strange at all for a woman down here to willing or unwilling end up use herself for money. It wasn't like it was something to be ashamed of in his view; people had to survive and if they had stuff to help them with, great for them. But this place... pimps were always a pain. Con men were decent folks compared to pimps, who'd tangle girls so much they ended up prisioners rather than workers. The young girl he recalled didn't seem to have picked up a place like this to work.
"Ah, Olympia! That's my girl, even like that ya get recommended!" the pimp whisteled and pointed at the stairs to which Kenny immediately turned. The blonde prostitute had the same annoyed expression as she lead a beautiful woman with dark hair, wearing a long dress that Kenny's trained mind registered as practical over fashion choice given the line of job.
It wasn't like he didn't recognize her, but the sight didn't seem to easily match his memories of his sister.
Kuchel looked at him from the stairs and he could see how, like him, her mind wasn't making the connection at first. The face might trigger something, but it couldn't find the exact place where it had last been seen. When she got to the last steps, that was when his face left the current surroundings, processed the aging and Kenny saw her eyes widen in surprise.
"Kenny?" It was a spontaneous burst.
"Oi, mister! Payment," the pimp called when Kenny started to leave the balcony.
"Yeah yeah, how much is it?"
"Five coins for an hour."
"Well ain't that a profit margin, huh?" Kenny spat as he threw the coins to the counter.
"He won't need that much time," Kuchel cut in. Kenny grinned and the pimp hissed.
"Olympia! Doesn't matter how much time a man needs. If ya want, ya can knock her around a bit, an' don't come complainin' on current defects, huh?" he added to Kenny.
He ignored the rest and focused on the 'knocking'. The man was lucky Kenny didn't knock him around.
"Aren't ya discrete, Kuchel," Kenny said under his breath, grabbing Kuchel by the arm like he had done the other prostitute before, but obviously didn't harm her, just pulled her to the stairs.
"What are you doing here? How did you find me?"
"I'd like to talk with ya in private. I don't take much time, remember?"
"How did you find me? You don't get to come by like this and demand something from me, Kenny. Fuck you."
Ah, his sweet little sister.
He did have that one coming though. It wasn't like Kuchel went around cursing at everyone like, well, him.
"Where's your room, Kuchel? I don't wanna talk with everyone snoopin'."
"Haven't you learn that the best way for no one to hear is being around people?"
Stubborness ran in the family. Which meant he had the first batch.
"Seriously, Kuchel, I've come a long way. I just wanna talk."
"I haven't seen you in who knows how many years. Are you being followed by the military police? You think I haven't heard the rumors?"
Kenny sneered and pulled her harder this time, probably hurting her. He didn't know where they were headed though, so there would be a limit to how much he could force her to move. Thankfully, Kuchel got some sense into her thick head and shoved her arm off his grasp, guiding him through the place.
"How long've ya been here? Huh? Kuchel, for fuck's sake..."
"Shut up and get in," she ordered, opening a door in a corridor after climbing far too many fucking steps than his drunken self (or any other drunken) would have been able to climb. This wouldn't be a brothel he'd come by in times of need.
He barely had time to survey Kuchel's room out his polished and keen survival instinct. She closed the door and turned, speaking in her angry tone that had been pretty much the only tone he'd heard in the last moments before he left years ago.
"Very well, Kenny. Now why are you here, for starters?"
"I missed ya, little sis. Can't I answer that way?" he tried jokingly. Kuchel didn't laugh. "Ya're lookin' pretty."
"I know what you've been doing. I know you've been killing people."
He clicked his tongue loudly. "Aaaargh, as if that'd-"
"I know, Kenny," Kuchel cut again, not a trace of the joyfulness she used to have. "Kenny the Ripper. That's dashing."
"It wasn't me who picked it."
"I know you too well, which is why I got away from everything as soon as the rumours started spreading."
"Eh? What the fuck are ya talkin' about? Ya're sayin' it's my fault? Not gonna say ya blame me for-"
"No, I left because I wanted to. You're a murderer, Kenny. I don't want anything to do with you. I don't care about being an Ackerman. Go away."
"Whoa, wait a minute, Kuchel!" He couldn't even speak! "We're all goin' extinct here, there's hardly any of us left, our family's literally goin' six feet under, I'm just tryin' to get a hold on everyone. I'm tryin' to check who's still alive, I'm glad ya are! Even grandpa's kickin' the bucket."
"He's old. He had a full life. Nothing to it."
"Hey! Aren't ya fuckin' salty! I don't care about the old fart either, but he's our grandpa!"
"Kenny, look around you." Kenny snorted instead. "Do I look like I care? I have enough problems on my hands. I don't want you or grandpa or anything related to our family to bring me more than I already have."
"I'm just tryin' to keep a hold on the family. That's why I'm here. I was worried about you, Kuchel!"
"No, you weren't. You never cared about me, and I don't say that out of jealousy, it's the truth. We happen to be brothers. I know you better than you know me, but even so, we're not close. You didn't look after me, you didn't back me up, you left the Underground and never cared if I stayed behind or not."
"Now hold on, Kuchel. Ya have yer life, I have my own. Why'd I take ya with me, I-"
"Yes, I know. I never wanted to go with you either away. I don't want anything to do with you. Go away, please."
Well she was a bitter ass salty...
"Are ya happy, huh? Huh? Ya must have a jolly life." Her beautiful features, far more than his own, frowned in annoyance. He took a good look at her then at last, noting how her teenage traces had evolved to that of a woman's, and noting the paleness of the Underground that was now almost foreign to him. Her hair was losing its glow, the raven black would start growing whites in less time than him, probably, but she was just as a beautiful as when she was younger and Kenny had to remind the folks around that the busty pretty girl was his little sister. 'Olympia' was surely a booked lass around here, and given the accomodation she had, the room considerably wide given the standards he was used to but unattained and humid, she didn't get her hands on even half of what they paid.
"Ya should do somethin' more with yer life, lil sis. Seriously."
"I'll take the advice of a killer, yes."
Kenny threw his hands up and gave up his case, whichever it was. This family was done for. Such a powerful and rising potential, all down the sewers. Fuck this shit.
Kuchel turned to the side, not so subtly showing him the door. For some reason, he lowered his gaze to her - she was a petite woman - and noted how the pose made a lump on her body. The dress wasn't exactly tight, but it wasn't a potato sack either, and for once he wished his instict wasn't right. Of course, it only brought to mind the two previous comments of the pimp about current states and defects. It was right there without a doubt.
"What the fuck." Kenny let his mouth fall open. "What the fuck is that, Kuchel?"
It seemed to take her half a second to realize what Kenny was focused on. She immediately rotated her body even more to the side, feet apart like Kenny had taught her to do if she got into trouble, a basic trick to make her seem smaller and harder to hit in a fight, however the protection reflex had already developped to protect the area beneath her stomach. It was now the main thing to stand out in that pose.
"Ya're... ya are, are ya serious?" That shit wasn't some weeks old, it was months! Not a huge bloat obviously, but enough to not be hidden anymore. What the fuck was to be asked? How many months?, Who was the father? "Why the fuck are ya pregnant?"
"Why the fuck do you care? Didn't you just say that we have different lives?"
"Okay, Kuchel." Being the logical, sensible older sibiling. Brave new territory he didn't want to venture. "Ya're workin' here, right? Ya're a prostitute."
"Sharp, Kenny."
"Th-Then, why, why the fuck would ya..."
"It happened."
"Well of course it fuckin' happened! How many guys to ya sleep with in a day?"
Kuchel was shutting her fists tight. That would normally be a sign for Kenny to keep annoying the target; with her, it was always a sign to shut the fuck up and back off.
"Don't tell me ya already have children?" The horrible thought came by suddenly.
"No."
He sighed in relief. "Okay, I know this ain't me, Kuchel, but am I really the only one thinkin' here? Can't ya still get it out?"
"You haven't seen me in years, Kenny," Kuchel repeated. "You don't know anything about me or my life."
"I know fuckin' enough for ten minutes! Why would ya give birth to a kid ya don't even know who's from? Or do ya?" Oh shit, another horrible thought. Was it some cheap crazy romance?
"I don't know. I am with lots of men, and they don't really care if a whore gets pregnant."
Even worse!
"Every guy cares if whores get pregnant, believe me! More than anythin', whores and pimps care. Ya... how advanced are ya?"
"I'm not aborting."
"That much I can reckon, but ya can still do it, hell even I know that."
"I am not aborting. Boy or girl, this child is mine. I don't care who the father is, it doesn't matter. It's my child," she said firmly with that tone again. She'd get physical if needed to. With him, Kenny was used to - hell, he was even expecting her to punch him or something. But the truth she had to see was that she was likely to have to get physical against other people. If she had a girl, she would have to keep creeps away from her. If it was a boy, likewise.
"Precisely, for fuck's sake," he said out loud, not following what were his thoughts and spoken words. "It's best for everyone if that kid doesn't breathe this toxic air."
"Kenny, get out."
"I can't be the only one thinkin', can I? The amount of trouble ya're gonna bring to ya..."
"That's my own business. My life, your life, remember?"
"Ya're gonna be suckin' dicks with the kid here too, huh? Teach it how to?"
Kuchel flew against him and the slap nearly turned him around.
He had it coming.
"Never come here again. I don't want you near my child, either. Forget we exist, Kenny. You'll only bring us problems."
"Sure thing, sis," Kenny replied, rubbing his face. She knew how to throw a punch, the slap was intentionally chosen over knocking a tooth out of him. He could get a hint. "Just don't say I didn't try to play the role of big responsible brother. I warned ya against that huge ass mistake ya're makin'."
Kuchel didn't answer. She opened the door and signaled him out, to which Kenny complied. It hadn't take that long indeed.
Damn woman was stubborn. So was he. Maybe in some years time, he'd come see how much grey she'd grown on her head thanks to a damn annoying brat, and he could laugh off at her face. Bah, children were such a pain. Imagine if it called him uncle. Nightmares.
And anyway, he knew it wasn't likely to ever happen. He'd probably die before he got bored enough to come down after her and see the damn midget.
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Damn Kuchel. Some nice parting words.
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the end
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Author's Note: Harsh last words between these two.
I ended up not writing chapter 3 of the other fic yet. Oh well.
Thank you for reading, feedback and corrections are appreciated. I have several fics that could serve as continuity to this one, 'One day', 'The Window to the Sky', 'Choice', 'Pain', 'The Talk' 'Loss' and 'Decision'. I seriously need a masterpost.
