A/N: This is the last chapter for a while, since I have finals coming up next week and right after that I'm on vacation for three weeks! So this fic will be on hiatus for at least a month, but don't worry, I'm still working on it!
It was ten minutes till the circulation gate opened, and there was still barely anyone there. Just Kai, Skoochy, Mako, Bolin, and a few of the other guys that had actually bothered to come and actually strike. In spite of all the big talk they'd made yesterday evening, it seemed everyone's resolve had wavered at the mention of Xi Lin, of Jet and his crew.
"Is anyone else coming?" she asked. Kai turned around and saw Jinora, her clean yellow skirts and warm smile looking so out of place amongst the dirty-faced boys around her. He smiled back wearily.
"I got no idea," Kai said.
"Well, I have my notebook and my camera," Jinora said, and she did indeed have that same worn leather notebook from the previous night under her arm and a portable camera that looked far too heavy hanging from a strap around her small neck. "Just like I promised."
"Thanks," Kai said. "Hopefully I'll be able to make good on that story I promised you, too."
"You will," Jinora said with a slight nod, and Kai held his smile before turning to Mako.
"Hey, you talked to Jet again this mornin', right? What'd he say?"
Mako shifted uncomfortably where he stood. "Yeah, him and his gang. Uh… Well, he actually seemed to be warmin' up to our plans."
"Even seemed a little impressed," Bolin beamed, and Mako gave him a careful smile.
"So, he's with us?" Mako and Bolin's smiles faded.
"Well… That depends on how you look at it," Mako said slowly. "They still wanted to work out a few things, meet up a few more times."
"They want proof that we're not gonna fold at the first sign of trouble," Bolin added.
"We ain't, they know we ain't, how-?" Kai pinched the bridge of his nose, clenching his jaw in frustration before turning to Otaku. "You were in the group that covered Midtown, yeah?"
"Yeah," Otaku confirmed. "And they're in… Once they know Xi Lin's in."
Kai scowled, before turning to Yao. "How'd folks on the Bowery and the Yemas stand?"
The lanky boy gulped, his wild hair sticking out in wiry bunches under his newsboy cap. "Same on that side too, Kai."
He growled in frustration. "Was it just like this all over? Is that why so many of the boys stayed in?"
"It doesn't sound like anyone gave us a no," Mako said. "We're just in a standstill now. Gotta wait on all the other folks."
"Maybe we should just put this off for a couple a days," Lee muttered. All heads turned towards him and he almost seemed to shrink.
"No!" Mako said. "We can't just put this off…" He turned to Kai. "Come on, say something!"
Kai's voice caught in his throat as he struggled for the right words. Hey, didn't Jinora do this for a living? He turned to her, lost green eyes meeting nervous brown ones, before they heard the rattling of a lock being undone.
The gates creaked open, and they all turned to see the Chous with slimy smiles spread along their round, red faces.
"Looks like it was bum information we got about a strike happening here today," the eldest one snickered. "Not that I'm complainin', my skull-bashin' arm could use a day of rest." His two younger brothers laughed along with him as the newsies plus Jinora walked in through the circulation gate, all sullen, disgruntled, and almost a world away from the fired-up kids they'd been the morning before. The Chous were still laughing when they left, loudly discussing the "worthless, deluded newsies" and their "good-for-nothing leader".
Jinora frowned. "They could at least pretend to be civil."
Kai smiled cheerlessly. "That was them bein' kind."
"Oh." She offered him a sad smile. "Sorry."
He shrugged. "We're used to it."
"Yeah. I'm sorry about that, too."
"Don't be." His smile grew strained. "Seriously."
Jinora was caught off-guard by a flash of hurt in his eyes and wasn't quite sure what to make of it, so she went straight to where she was comfortable: getting the scoop.
"So, Mr. Leader, have any idea what to say to your troops?"
Kai's smile faltered. "Nope."
"Come on, guys, we can't back down now," they heard Mako pleading.
"Maybe if we just don't show up for work, that'll send the message," Otaku offered weakly.
"No. They'd just replace us," Mako said. "They need to see us stand our ground. No matter who does or doesn't show, we can't back down. Whether you like it or not, now is when we take a stand." He looked over at Kai. "Tell them."
His eyes widened. "What, Mako, I-"
He felt Jinora's hand rest gently on his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin. She squeezed it softly and he looked at her, almost bewildered at the softness in her eyes.
"Just do whatever you did to get them fired up yesterday," she said. "I can help you find the right words if you need them, and Mako's gonna help whether you like it or not, right?"
Kai gave her a soft smile. "Right." He turned back to the boys, took a deep breath, and spoke. "Now is the time to seize the day. Not tomorrow, not a week from now, not whenever it's convenient. We don't have convenience. We gotta do this now, whether we like it or not, or they'll get the idea that they can just push us around however they like."
He looked at Mako to gauge his response, and he nodded firmly at him, allowing a small smile to slip. Jinora squeezed his shoulder again.
"You're doing great," she whispered. "Keep going."
He smiled nervously, and opened his mouth to continue, when he heard a "Hey!" from Skoochy. Attention shifted to the source of the distraction, and sure enough, there were three unfamiliar-looking boys at the newsstand buying papers.
Kai scowled. "Scabs."
"What?" Jinora asked.
"Scabs. The ones that can afford to take a crap deal and won't join a strike. Granted, they're barely doin' better than us, but still," he grumbled.
Skoochy hobbled over to them. "So what? We can take 'em!"
Kai shook his head immediately. "No," he said. He raised his voice, trying to gauge the attention of the rest of the group, who were looking dangerously miffed. "No one touch 'em!"
The other newsies looked at him in alarm, when Mako joined Kai's side. "He's right. We all have to stand together, or we don't have a chance."
Kai took a step towards the Scabs, who all studied him with skepticism. He took a deep breath and took on the most sincere tone of voice he knew he could manage. "Listen… Fellas, I know someone's put you up to this. They're probably payin' you some extra money too, right?" The Scabs didn't respond. "Well, it ain't right. Them newspaper owners think we're gutter rats with no respect for nothin', includin' each other. Is that what we are? Huh?" He looked between the three boys and noticed the middle one with choppy hair that fell past his ears was eyeing his full messenger bag wearily. "If we stab each other in the back, then yeah, as far as they're concerned, that's who we are. But who do we say we are? I say we ain't backstabbers. I say we got…we got…" The word was on the tip of his tongue, but for some reason was escaping him.
"Integrity," Jinora piped up, standing next to him. "You all have integrity."
Kai grinned briefly at her. "Thank you, Miss Reporter." He turned back to the Scabs. "You heard her. We got integrity. I say we know the meaning of loyalty. I say we care just as much about our fellow man – or woman -" he gave Jinora a quick glance, and she smiled, nodding for him to continue, "- as any other good person in this whole damned city, even if we happen to be too busy scrapin' by to do much charity. If we stand together, we can change the whole game. It ain't even just about us." He pointed out toward the circulation gate. "All across this city, there are boys and girls who should be out playin', or goin' to school. But instead, they're out slavin' away to support themselves or their folks." He dropped his hand looked between them. "Ain't no shame in bein' poor, and not a one of us complains if the work we do is hard. All we ask is a square deal." He looked hard at them for a moment, catching the uncertain shifting in their eyes. He almost had them. "Fellas, for the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughterhouse in this town, I beg you. Throw down your papers and join the strike."
The Scabs looked amongst themselves doubtfully, the silence between them and the rest of the boys so thick and heavy that Kai nearly felt himself suffocating.
"…Please?" Bolin said quietly.
Then, the middle Scab walked up to Kai, stared at him hard, and then he grinned. "I'm with you."
Kai could feel the tension leave his body as the Scab took his stack of papers out of his messenger bag and threw it to the ground. A cheer ripped through the crowd as he then yanked his messenger bag off over his head and threw it to towards Zhao.
His friends stared at him in shock. "Are you serious?"
"Who're you gonna trust?" he shot back. "Them," he said, gesturing to the newsies, "or the Chous?"
The two remaining Scabs looked at one another hesitantly, before their newspapers and bags joined the rest in the dirt. Mako and Bolin welcomed them into the group of strikers with open arms, and the boys cheered, leaving to stand outside the circulation gate together.
The newspapers that had been purchased were passed along to everyone, so that every person got at least one copy. Jinora ran a little distance away to make sure she got a good view of everyone, and just as the newsies began to rip their papers, she snapped a photo, and then again when they all crumpled up the ripped pages and tossed them into the air.
The cheering threatened to deafen Jinora and she almost didn't care as she watched from her spot on the sidewalk, drinking in the history happening before her very eyes. As late-comers to the circulation gate trickled in, either Mako or Kai would convince them to join the strike, one by one, offering papers to rip up. They didn't miss a single person, and it only took a few moments for their little group to grow into an admittedly formidable crowd of young men.
She didn't even notice Kai had left the crowd until he was standing right in front of her, holding out a copy of the World's latest issue.
He grinned at her. "Take it. Rip it up."
Jinora tilted her head at him. "What-"
"Ain't you part of this, too?"
Jinora looked between him and the paper in his hands. "Kai, it really isn't my place, I mean, I'm just a reporter, I work for a paper for Christsakes-"
"The Sun. You don't work for this one," he said with a soft smile.
"This is your cause. Really. I don't want to intrude, I feel bad enough that the Sun's raised their prices too and it doesn't feel right to just wheedle my way into what's your fight."
"You're sayin' this ain't your fight, too? You're sayin' that you, a young, female reporter, haven't been stepped on at all by any of the people you work for?"
Jinora pursed her lips and stared hard at the paper in Kai's hand. She thought of herself a year ago, barely 15 years old, getting laughed at when she didn't know how to refill the office's typewriters. She thought of all those months of being forced to take people's lunch orders before even being allowed to type one word. She thought back to every time her parents had tried to get her to dream smaller just to protect her from the reality of life, every time her father tried to offer her a life of leisure because he didn't believe she could get by doing what she loved. Because he didn't believe in her.
Jinora took the paper from Kai's hands and ripped it in half with such an ease and ferocity that it almost startled her. She paused, looking up at Kai with wide eyes and a pounding heart, before grinning madly as she ripped the paper up some more, into smaller and smaller pieces, until they fluttered out of her hands as monochromatic confetti.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Kai grinned down at her, and she realized she was panting.
"Yeah. Yeah, it does." She laughed softly, staring down at the newspaper remains at her feet.
"Welcome to the strike, Jinora."
"Glad to be part of it, Kai."
Her smile softened as he took her hand and led her back into the crowd, where the newsies were planning to stay at the gate till the circulation gate closed. They'd have to stand out there for two more hours, and had she been faced with the choice earlier that morning, she would have elected to come and go as she needed to, picking up bits and pieces of what she needed for her weekly deadline.
But now that she was here, and the raspy cheers of the newsies were deafening her ears, she knew that her choice couldn't have been any clearer. She was standing with them. She had to stand with them. For them, and for herself.
She was one of them now.