Welcome back! I hope the first chapter wasn't too horrible. This is way less traumatic, I swear. As always, I'll explain some stuff and thangs at the end.
Onward~
King woke up with a start. She was on her back in her own bed, gripping her sheets and covered in sweat, her blankets tangled all around her. For some inexplicable reason one of her pillows was near her foot, and her face was wet from tears shed while sleeping. Her cat, Marron, was sitting on her chest, kneading his paws into her collarbone as he purred loudly.
"Hey," King muttered as she started petting her tubby little friend. She put her hands under the cat's front legs and gently lifted him off of her so she could sit up. Right away she grabbed her phone to check the time: she was awake four minutes before her alarm was set to go off. With a sigh, King disabled the alert: she wiped her eyes with the bottoms of her palms and collapsed onto her damp pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling as tears silently flowed.
It had been one month and two days since King was kidnapped by a couple of Mr. Big's underlings and violently assaulted as revenge for that time she betrayed the infamous crime boss and helped the Sakazaki family get its shit together. The days that initially followed the attack had been some of the worst, with the legalities of the situation hanging low over King's head. The DA pressed criminal charges, but there was a short period of uncertainty that revolved around whether or not there would be a trial. The idea of going to court was enough to make King physically ill. Thankfully, she had friends in high places: Detective Mary Ryan used every resource at her disposal to make sure the case was resolved through a plea bargain. (King had a feeling those resources included Mary's itchy trigger finger and tendency to snap bones like twigs.) Just like that the sentencing hearing had quietly come and gone, Big's men were put away, and King wasn't going to have to metaphorically bleed out in front of a room full of strangers.
Win.
However, in the grand scheme of things, it was only a small victory. King still had to cope with what happened to her, which was proving difficult in every sense of the word: She was barely eating and barely sleeping - and when she did sleep she usually dreamt about the event (or what she could remember of it) in vivid 4K detail. She told everyone, even her little brother, that she caught mononucleosis as a way to ensure that she wouldn't have to go anywhere or even talk to anyone. She hadn't left her apartment unless she absolutely had to, and her general disposition fluctuated between absolute apathy and absolute despair. She would spend way too much time in the shower each day, scrubbing and burning her skin under water that was too hot, and she would become anxious or irritable at seemingly random intervals. She periodically tried to self-medicate (after all, she had a healthy stockpile of alcohol, and Yuri had been kind enough to share some pot cookies) but an incident with Percocet and wine made her think better of it. If it hadn't been for her friends - the few who really knew what was going on - she probably would have accidentally overdosed on her pain meds or wasted away on her sofa.
On top of it, King felt immense guilt for how her experience was affecting those around her: depressive episodes, internal investigations, and rampant paranoia were among the things her friends had to deal with because of her. Not to mention the lying that went along with it. Those that knew about the incident promised to keep King's secret, which, while comforting, only made things worse: She didn't think it fair that they should have to lie to their loved ones for her.
King continued to stare up at the ceiling. She needed to get out of bed, but brooding seemed infinitely more appealing than getting ready for her first day back to work. She tried to convince herself that, perhaps, it would be good for her: Pour some drinks, interact with different people, maybe break a few noses or two if anybody got unruly. It could be grand.
...Or it could be a total disaster.
Before King could start thinking of all the ways everything could go wrong, the sound of Skype's whimsical chime issued from her phone. She turned on her bedside lamp, unplugged the gadget from its charger, and pressed the Accept button on the screen. She held it up so the caller could see her clearly. It took a moment for the video to connect, but when it did, the sight that greeted her actually made her smile. But only a little.
Mai Shiranui was one of the most beautiful women King had ever seen: She was the infuriating type who looked great from every angle, no matter the lighting or the time of day. Even with her chin scrunched in toward her neck so it looked like she had three smaller chins, and her lips puckered out, she still somehow managed to look amazing.
"Oh, Kingy," Mai instantly stopped making the weird face. "Another one?"
"Yeah," King sniffed as she wiped her cheek.
"Are you okay?"
"Why on earth are you awake right now?" King abruptly changed the subject.
"I can't sleep."
Mai said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. There was an edge to her voice that made King feel apprehensive: She couldn't help wondering if her friend's mood was swinging away from the depressive end of the spectrum, toward mania.
"I know what you're thinking, you jerk," Mai said playfully. "I'm fine! I'm just excited! Three more days!"
"And then you'll be here for good, drinking all of my vodka."
"Yep! I'm going to hang out at the bar all the time! Speaking of which, isn't it the big day?"
"Uh-huh," King sat up and ran her hand through her hair. "Back to business…"
"Are you ready for that?" Mai asked, serious.
"Probably not, but I have to be."
"Kingy. If you're not up to it, then…"
"It doesn't matter if I'm up to it or not. I've been out for a month with a bullshit excuse; people are going to start asking questions - if they aren't already."
"Just stick to the story and you'll do fine."
"Everyone is just going to automatically assume we made out, you know."
"So? Just tell them the 'truth': we used the same straw." Mai winked.
"But if you were truly Patient Zero Andy would have gotten sick, too. And, everyone knows -"
"Don't overthink it, Kingy! We talked about it before and it's perfect!"
"I have to overthink it," King used her free hand to rub her forehead. "One slip-up and -"
"And nothing! You have nothing to worry about! Just go in there and be yourself!"
King took a deep breath and puffed her cheeks out as she slowly exhaled. "I can't - I don't know how to be myself. What does that even mean anymore?"
"I don't really have a good answer, Kingy. You just have to try."
"I… think I should go," King said after a moment of silence.
"Kingy, I didn't mean -"
"No, you didn't do anything. It's just..." King furrowed her brow. "Duty calls."
Mai looked doubtful. She adjusted her camera, concern all over her face.
"At least promise me you'll take it easy."
"I will," King assured her with a wan smile. "I promise."
###
An hour later King stood in front of her bathroom mirror, fully dressed and made up for the first time since it happened. She examined herself very carefully for anything that could potentially set off any red flags, but she appeared pretty unremarkable: The bruises on her face and neck were completely healed, however, the marks on her throat had been so severe that they left residual blemishes on some parts of her skin. Luckily her collar and a little concealer went a long way. She dabbed a bit of makeup on each imperfection, as well as on a small scar on her forehead. She tousled her hair just enough so that it would cover it completely before walking to the living room to finish getting ready.
King pressed her lips together as she opened the closet door. The mundane act of grabbing a pair of shoes was so strange; she could count the number of times she had worn them over the last few weeks on one hand. She sat down in a nearby dining chair to put them on.
"Marron?" She absently addressed her cat, who was curled up on the sofa across the room. "Wish me luck, okay?"
The cat curled up in a ball before stretching his back feet straight out.
King made a face. She stood up and picked up her keys and wallet from the counter, a little sad that she wasn't on the couch next to Marron. The silence of the apartment was suddenly broken by Weezer's El Scorcho. King immediately took her phone out of her pocket and answered.
"Hey, Yuri. What's up?"
"Hey! Are you at work already?"
"No, I was just leaving." King paused. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, totally," Yuri answered quickly. "I just wanted to wish you luck today. So… good luck!"
"Thanks…"
"Hey, you're still gonna come by, right...?"
King instantly deflated. The idea of going to the Kyokugen dojo to resume her regular sparring sessions with Yuri was off-putting - as was pretty much everything. However, she knew she needed to move on with her life, and what better way to do that than to try to do things she enjoyed? Not only that, but if she wanted to make absolutely sure no one found out her secret, she was going to have to act as natural as possible, and if that meant kicking the absolute shit out of Takuma's training dummies, or even both Sakazaki siblings, she was going to have to go for it.
"Y-yeah. I just have to get my work schedule sorted out, and then I'll let you know what day."
"Cool! Hey, don't worry," Yuri said, her voice full of kindness. "You'll do fine. Once you're back in there it will be like you never left."
King didn't know what to say next. She took a longing look at her sofa before reluctantly exiting the safety of her home.
Okay, here we go:
*I know PTSD dreams aren't exact, picture-by-picture, word-for-word recreations of the traumatic event, but who says the first chapter was necessarily what King was dreaming about? I know *I* never stated it. So, like, please don't call bullshit on me for my depiction of how this is playing out.
*I did a lot of research on criminal cases and courts and all of that stuff. In the state of CA (where Southtown is located according to KOF: Kyo), plea bargains can be banned if a super serious or violent crime is involved. However, there are three exceptions to this rule, one of which occurs if testimony from a key witness can't be obtained. I'm sure it was obvious in the text, but King couldn't handle going to court, and, so, her testimony was unobtainable. Plus, like, Mary has connections or whatever.
*Mononucleosis, commonly known as "mono", is a virus that is spread through saliva (or, yes, sexual contact, too), which is why it's commonly known as "the kissing disease." Symptoms are severe sore throat, swollen lymph nodes, and extreme fatigue. It takes several weeks to clear the system.
*The incident with Percocet and wine is a direct reference to How Do You Sleep?, where King is really, really drunk/high off of the combo, which can actually cause respiratory distress and death.
*King has an iPhone, whereas Mai has a Samsung, which is why Skype is being used instead of FaceTime or whatever Galaxy users use for video chat.
*Head-canon: Mai has bipolar disorder. There are two ends of the spectrum: major depression, or mania. Mania is the exact opposite of depression, but not in a good way. Google it.
*Mai is in Japan, which is sixteen hours ahead of California. So, let's say King is up around noon on a Saturday (which she is). That puts Japan time at four AM Sunday.
*The scar on King's head is from where she was hit with the gun (and later against the wall) in MLS, in case anyone forgot.
*The ringtone for Yuri (Weezer's El Scorcho) is about the lead singer's wife, who happens to be half-Japanese. The opening lyric is, "Goddamn you half Japanese girls, you do it to me every time..." Idk, I just thought it would be fun. Fight me.
Wow, that was a lot of notes - I didn't realize I had THAT many! Kindly let me know your thoughts and feelings, and maybe I'll see you next time! Cheers!