Hi!

Finally, after months and months and months of all kinds of stuff and thangs, here it is: the final chapter of this piece. Hopefully this will be a good read! Notes at the end. Also, once again, extra special thanks to David Tai~

Onward~

Despite generally being an early riser, one of the things Chizuru loved most in the world was a good night's sleep. The ideal was eight hours at the minimum; maybe even ten or eleven on the days she didn't have to work. That was why, when the text chime on her phone went off at 7:36 AM, she groaned — a loud, throaty sound — and reached out from beneath her comforter to grab the device that was resting on the bedside table. She held it up to her ear but hastily realized her error; she shook the cobwebs from her head as she propped herself up and squinted down at the screen. It took just a moment for the blurry words to register and for her to react, as the message was from none other than King, and read, "Hey, sorry if this wakes you up, but would you like to talk later? I'm free after four my time."

"...oh," Chizuru said out loud, surprised by the unexpected correspondence. She hastily thought about her schedule: She had decreed the day a "company holiday" weeks ago in a move designed to help her employees keep their heads in the game by being well-rested for the following work week. As such, it meant that, other than maybe catching up on unread emails or going on an impromptu bike ride, she had no plans for the day. Making time in the late morning or early afternoon wouldn't be a problem at all. She mulled it over very quickly, then typed her response and hit Send.

###

Although a little miffed at being woken up earlier for the day than she wanted to be, Chizuru went through her usual routines: brushing her teeth, showering, meticulously dressing (though, she decided to go much more casual than usual by donning a simple black tank top and baggy sweatpants), feeding Chee-chan, checking the news while she drank her morning coffee…

However, her displeasure soon gave way to an unusual feeling of anxiety. Although she wasn't nervous about speaking with King… she was nervous about speaking with King. It was a foreign sensation; she was used to having everything in place: every word, every action. Even worse was that she probably would have had Kensou not leaked the exact reason for King's behavioural shift. And while it was true that, thanks to the young man's indiscretion, Chizuru now had confirmation of what she was dealing with, it was also true that it was sensitive information she should not have found out from anyone except King herself. But, now she knew for sure what she had only suspected after her conversation with Kyo: her former teammate had, indeed, experienced unspeakable horror that appeared to have changed her. The hows and whys were — thankfully? — still unknown, though it was hard not to be curious about the circumstances. King was more than capable of defending herself so… what happened? Was it a random act? A date gone wrong? Or… what if — and this thought made Chizuru very sick — what if it was someone King already knew? The priestess stifled a gag while lowering herself into her desk chair and putting on a pair of wire-rimmed, rose-gold reading glasses that she used on the days she didn't feel like wearing her contacts. Even so, as awful as it was, she hoped that the person who attacked King was at the very least a stranger — and not someone who was considered a trusted companion.

A weird sense of dread started to settle in the back of Chizuru's mind while she logged into her computer and navigated to Zoom so she could set up a video call. King was an intensely private individual, but she could also be a little hotheaded on top of it. She had exploded on the shrine maiden not just for deceiving her (and Mai) for the sake of their King of Fighters team-up, but also because the personal information of herself and her family was compromised in the process. It had been a verbal lashing like no other, and to this day, Chizuru was glad that King had waited until they were no longer in a public space before unloading on her. Imagining what she might say or do if she discovered that her secret had gotten out was disconcerting at best — especially if she was as unstable as Kensou made her out to be.

Chizuru let out a quiet sigh and began to take deep breaths designed to keep her nerves calm.

"No fear," she asserted to herself while she continued to set everything up and breathe. "No hesitation, no surprise, no doubt."

She then clicked the appropriate prompts and waited.

It was only a moment before the call connected. King showed up on the flat-screen monitor, clearly in the process of getting settled at what must have been her dining table, as a small kitchen was partially visible behind her. She made a face while adjusting her LCD display, and wiggled around in her chair before finally settling into a comfortable position.

"Hi," she said with a polite smile. The expression was cordial and sincere, but there was a certain... mania that seemed to be bubbling just beneath the surface; a mania that directly conflicted with the confidence (or, in some cases, overconfidence) that King normally exuded. Still, Chizuru couldn't keep herself from offering her own smile as she took in the other woman's appearance. Despite some noticeable dark circles under her eyes she looked good. Healthy. Not at all like the vicious "basketcase" Kensou had complained about earlier in the week.

"Miss King! It's lovely to see your face after so long!"
"This busted thing?" The bartender joked. She grabbed a massive styrofoam cup and sucked what must have been some kind of cola from the clear plastic straw sticking out of it.
"Coming from a woman who made all manner of injuries look classy during our travels," Chizuru replied.
"And you didn't?"
"Well, I suppose I do have a certain… ability to make black eyes work for me rather than against."
"Yeah, that 'ability' —" King sipped her drink — "is called being hot."

Chizuru raised her eyebrows and cleared her throat. She was well aware that she was beautiful, but hearing someone else acknowledge it so casually caught her off guard — especially since that someone else happened to be older, direct, and into women.

"Well, um, th-thank you."
"You're welcome. Love the glasses, by the way," King remarked. "Those frames suit you."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes. And I'm sure I'm not the only one." Another sip, and then, "Kyo's taken, but I bet Yagami would feel honoured if you stepped on him."
"I don't know about that," Chizuru said slowly, her brow furrowed. She couldn't imagine Iori Yagami wanting to be stepped on by anyone — except for maybe a tiny kitten. She laughed to herself while King looked off to the side and casually drank her soda. It was so painfully evident to Chizuru that the other woman was far from comfortable, which was unfortunate. She wordlessly observed her as she leaned back in her chair and pushed some hair away from her face, which brought Chizuru's attention to a small scar on the left side of her forehead. It wasn't the most obvious imperfection in the world, as King's short tresses concealed it exceptionally well, but something about it left Chizuru a bit unsettled.

"Pistol-whipped," the Frenchwoman suddenly divulged.
"Wh-what?!"

The random (and grisly) term made Chizuru's jaw slacken. What on earth did that mean? She stared at King, who had thrown a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

"I… didn't... mean to say... that," she faltered as she moved her hand away from her face. "But… I… noticed that you noticed this —" she pushed her hair back once more — "and, umm… Yeah."

King took a very long sip of her beverage, and it dawned on Chizuru that whatever it was was not soda. However, the other woman wasn't drunk, as evidenced by the fact that her voice was its regular cadence and not the tired, breathy lilt that came whenever she was intoxicated.

"Fuck it," she sighed abruptly. "Maybe we should just address the elephant in the room."
"Elephant?"
"Yeah, you know the saying. Right?"
"I do," Chizuru replied. "But what are you —"
"A few days ago you called and asked me about Asamiya. About why I did what I did to her during our match back… whenever the hell it was."
"Yes…"
"But I think that you already have an idea or two about a few things that may or may not have been going on at the time."

Chizuru grimaced, as she now had a critical decision to make. Did she come clean? Tell King about what she learned from Kensou? Or did she just stay quiet and not say anything at all? Miyamoto Musashi's quote "Do nothing which is of no use" popped into her head, making her wonder if there was even a point to admitting that she knew about the assault in the first place. What would it truly accomplish? It would just upset King and possibly get Sie Kensou murdered. She chanced a peek at her distant acquaintance: she was staring downward, eyes narrowed, lips pressed in a thin line. Chizuru made a face; even after all this time, she still knew that look. And it was because she still knew that look that she braced herself for… she didn't even know what she was bracing herself for. She waited while King stared off, sipping on her drink (Chizuru found herself almost unbearably curious as to what it actually was…), and deep in thought.

"Asamiya didn't do anything to me," King dictated after another long sip of the unknown liquid. "Not at that point, anyway. But… she got caught in the crossfire of some things that I was dealing with. Some really personal things that I didn't want to get into, but..."

She trailed off, which left Chizuru wondering what to do. She was so lost in this situation, and it was beginning to stress her out even more than it had previously. She was usually the one with all of the answers, but, here… here, she couldn't even think up a clear or appropriate response to anything she was being told.

But she needed to, at the very least, try.

"You don't have to say anymore," she began carefully. "I understand that you have certain things that you prefer to keep to yourself, and that's —"
"J'ai été violée par un des copains de Mr. Big," King interrupted very quickly, her tone miserable. "J'ai été enlevé et ils avaient un gun, et j'ai été commotionné, et j'ai été vraiment foutu pendant un moment, mais je vais mieux maintenant ... Mais je pense que vous le saviez déjà."
"Je savais, oui," Chizuru responded without thinking. Her breath caught, and she swore she felt her heart literally drop into her stomach, as that was certainly not what she had planned by any stretch of the imagination! King telling her what happened — and in French no less — was a possibility that never even occurred to her in the first place! She sat rigid in her seat, gripping the armrests, her grey eyes wide as she tried to figure out what to do next.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, King's expression would have been hilarious if the topic of conversation had been almost anything else. But, unfortunately, the grim subject matter made it impossible to find any humour in her character, which was clearly beyond flabbergasted: Her eyes were wider than Chizuru had ever seen them (and this included all of the times she witnessed crazy things during KOF…), and her mouth was hanging partially open. Additionally, her hold on the cup in her hand had tightened so much that Chizuru feared her fingertips would puncture the soft foam and spill the dark liquid everywhere.

And, so, a stunned silence between the two women dragged on until the bartender finally spoke.

"Whe… whenthefuckdidyoulearnFrench...?!"
"Quite some time ago now," Chizuru answered while moving her hands to her lap. "It was for business purposes… but I thought it might be useful for other endeavors as well."
"...Guh… great accent..."
"Ah… thank you."

Completely and utterly confounded, Chizuru leaned forward so she could rest her elbows on the desk and started to chip off her nail polish, a nervous habit from her teenage years that seldom presented itself during her adulthood. Now and then, she would glance up at the screen to see King sitting with her lips pressed together in a thin line, fidgeting with a small rosebud pendant around her neck.

Finally, after at least two more minutes of the awkward lull, King broke the silence.

"How did you find out?"
"Come again?" Chizuru responded.
"You said you already knew about it. So how?"
"It was assumed by a... mutual... associate... that I was already aware of it when you came up in conversation."
"Kyo?"
"No."
"Then who?"

Chizuru made a face; she didn't want to unnerve King more than she already had. She also didn't want to get anybody killed. She opened her mouth to respond, but, frustratingly enough, no sound came out.

"You know what? It doesn't matter," King grumbled. "I think I have an idea anyway, but I'd rather not go to jail again."

Then, with a loud sigh, she removed the flimsy plastic top from her cup so she could begin outright chugging the beverage. She noticed Chizuru's quizzical expression because she held one finger up — letting her know to wait — before swallowing what had to have been at least half of whatever was in the container.

"Long Island Iced Tea," she tiredly stated. "To take the edge off."
"Why did you need to take the edge off to talk to me?" Chizuru questioned, saddened by the notion that King felt the need to drink in order to have a simple conversation with her.
"Because I knew that you knew that something… happened. Asking me about Asamiya out of nowhere — and not one of my other fights — kind of gave it away," came the answer.
"I see…"
"Umm… I'm very sorry about this," King remarked, her voice quiet.
"There is absolutely nothing you must apologize for," Chizuru assured. "Though I will admit that I am out of my element."
"Most people usually are when it comes to this kind of thing," King pointed out. "Not that I blame anyone for that. It's not like there's a… quel es les mots? A… How-To guide for talking to victims of violent crimes about the violent crimes they've been the victim of. Especially when said victim is, well… me."
"Cécile…"

Chizuru was met with a scowl when she said King's name, and it occurred to her that people who knew it must have said it a lot when this subject came up — perhaps as some means of comfort that likely wasn't comforting at all.

"You don't have to walk on eggshells around me," King informed Chizuru. "I'm not… I really am better now. There are still bad days, but for the most part, it's as okay as it can be. I survived the incident and justice was mostly served, so..."

Chizuru quirked a brow when King said "mostly" but decided not to pursue it, as the other woman had more to say.

"As for Asamiya, she was collateral damage. I couldn't lose that match... so I went a lot harder than I needed to. That entire situation was… un énorme putain de… mess. You're lucky you stayed far away from it. From all of it."
"I would not say 'lucky,'" Chizuru frowned. "Despite having had an inkling that something was amiss around the time it must have happened, I allowed myself to get sidetracked by other things. As a result, I wasn't there for you in your time of need."
"It's not like you were obligated to be," King maintained, her tone almost oddly casual. "Just because we were teammates once —"
"I am aware that fighting together doesn't automatically make us the best of friends. I broke your trust very early on, which was inexcusable and should not have been the foundation of our relationship, but that doesn't mean that I wouldn't have cared or wouldn't have tried to help you in any way that I could."
"As much as I appreciate the sentiment, we both know proverbs and meditation wouldn't have done shit."
"Nor would I have expected them to..."

The pair fell quiet again, each sinking into their own heads. Chizuru was still at a loss, as this was not going anything like she had imagined. And, although King's last statement was very direct, she didn't seem all that angry, which was a relief. However, her apparent lack of it was vaguely alarming. Maybe it was the liquor? Regardless, Chizuru needed to regain her bearings; she needed to take control of the exchange and steer things in a more relaxed direction.

"It's good that you weren't there," King commented before Chizuru could utter a single syllable. "You have enough stress in your life. Your duties, and your company, and playing babysitter to the Fire Boys is exhausting as it is."
"Well, yes, but I would have —"
"You have enough stress in your life, Kagura. Trust me — it's better that it worked out this way. Don't get me wrong — I am extremely pissed that you know about it, but at least you didn't see the trainwreck that was the aftermath — the trainwreck that was me. And I wouldn't have wanted you to see that anyway. But here we are: talking and, in my case, about to be drunk because you found out my secret."
"Cé — King…"
"Bien, peu importe. Where would you like to start?"

Chizuru blinked, puzzled.

"Excuse me?"
"Where. Would you. Like. To start?"
"I don't understand. Start what?"
"Well, quite frankly, I know that at least part of why you wanted to reconnect was because you were curious about the gory details. In which case, you really should have brought a drink of your own. Maybe two, depending on how wordy I decide to get."
"I… No," Chizuru replied. "That has nothing to do with why —"
"Bullshit, Kagura. Whenever someone new finds out — regardless of who they are —, they want to know three things: who it was, how it happened, and how it affected my sanity. I don't think I blame them for wanting to know — not really, anyway — but there's this sick voyeurism behind it that's to be expected, I guess. That being said, I've already told you the answers to the first two questions, but not the third."
"And you don't have to."
"But I think I should. Just so that we're on the same page and so that there are no more surprises."

As much as Chizuru hated to admit it, King had an excellent point. She raised her eyebrows, wordlessly giving the bartender the okay to continue… and sate her curiosity. She watched King shut her eyes and rub at her temples, evidently psyching herself up for what she was about to say. A deep breath, and then:

"I've been under psychiatric care since it happened. I started going to therapy once a week, but now it's about once every four weeks, and I've been diagnosed with PTSD, depression, and generalized anxiety disorder, so I'm on meds indefinitely," King informed Chizuru. She paused briefly and then, with a bitter chuckle, added, "Nothing fucks with your brain chemistry quite like non-consensual intercourse with someone who's trying to hurt you as badly as possible."
"That's… I'm so sorry…!"
"That's what most people say."
"I truly mean it, King," Chizuru necessitated. "I cannot even begin to imagine what it has been like for you, and it was never my intention to pry! I suspected that you were not okay, so I… I did make a phone call or two regarding the matter, but I never meant to go behind your back in such a way that would result in my discovering what happened to you the way that I did."
"Well," King dragged the word out, her expression impassive. "If it's any consolation, you get bonus points for not turning to your magic mirror. Unless…?"
"No! I would never have done that."
"But you thought about it."
"I… yes. I did," Chizuru confirmed, all at once ashamed of herself for even considering using the mirror days prior. She hastily turned away and started chipping her nail polish again.

"This is why you sent the basket, isn't it?" King prodded.
"I sent it before I knew for sure," Chizuru answered. "I thought that… I knew you were going through something. So I thought perhaps, it would be useful to you given your proclivity toward… agitation."

The priestess grimaced upon making that last statement, as there was no way King wasn't going to take offense to it. Sure enough, she looked right at Chizuru while raking her hands through her hair, her eyes slightly narrowed. There was a break before she started laughing.

"Proclivity toward agitation? Why not just say that I'm an uptight bitch?"
"I… what? I don't think —"
"Whatever, Kagura. You may be a prim and proper shrine maiden but that doesn't mean you have to pull your punches in matters outside the ring. It's okay to say it," King exacted, her cadence starting to take on the unusual breathiness that typically came with her intoxication.

Chizuru made a sort of pained face. While it was true that King was not always the most agreeable person in the world, saying she was a… bitch… seemed a bit much. With a sigh, the priestess removed her glasses to clear a smudge off one of the lenses. She shut her eyes while she used the hem of her tank top to wipe the small surface, still unsure of what to say or do. It seemed like the most challenging part was over, but —

"Enlève tes fesses de moi…!"

The random exclamation from King startled Chizuru; she opened her eyes to see the other woman hunched over her table, a big, brown, tabby-patterned cat lazily draped across her shoulders. She tried to stifle a giggle but failed as the other woman squirmed under the weight of her pet.

"The famous Marron, I presume?" Chizuru inquired while putting her glasses back on.
"The one and only," King answered while clumsily reaching back so she could take the cat in her arms. Once she had him, she cradled him like a baby and pressed her forehead to his while he kneaded his small paws into her collarbone. It was one of the cutest, most wholesome things Chizuru had seen in a long time, and she found herself glad that King had such a dedicated animal friend to help her through the tough times that other people couldn't.

...People such as herself.

Chizuru felt a strong pang of regret as she realized with dismay that she was a horrible friend to this woman. She violated King's trust in the very beginning by using her as a means to an end and then neglected to keep in touch with her on a regular basis throughout the years. Sure, she had done something nice for her back then by paying for her brother to travel with the team, but was that really enough in the grand scheme of things? She then had to wonder: if all had worked out differently — if she never got wind that something terrible had happened to King — would she even be talking to her in the first place?

Chizuru leaned as far back in her seat as she could, stared up at the ceiling, and wondered how hard Maki would have smacked her across the head had she been alive to witness any of this. A loud, melancholy sigh escaped her lips, grabbing King's attention. The Frenchwoman turned away from the cat and regarded Chizuru with curiosity.

"Are... you okay?"
"I'm just… I'm sorry."
"For what? Calling me out of the blue to ask a question that sent my anxiety into overdrive and triggered a few nightmares?"

Chizuru let out a horrified gasp; she had never taken into account that her insensitive curiosity could wreak such havoc on somebody's frame of mind. She hastily turned away from King and swallowed hard, a desire to crawl under the desk and hide there forever suddenly very strong. She held her breath as the corners of her eyes started to burn a little.

"Relax, Chiz," King intoned wryly. "I was overdue for a relapse anyway."

The priestess did a doubletake, unsure of which was more alarming: King's statement about relapsing or the fact that she had, for the first time ever, shortened her first name. She blinked a few times, shocked, while King stared, eyebrows raised, her face inscrutable. After a moment of what appeared to be very careful consideration, she tilted her head slightly and offered a weary smile.

"Usually I'm the one in tears by the end of these things. Why are you upset?"
"Wh-what?" Chizuru asked, all at once very oddly self-conscious. "I'm not —"

A pointed glance from King stopped Chizuru's sentence dead. She opened her mouth, closed it, took a deep breath in, and then exhaled slowly.

"I am at a loss as to how to continue," she explained. "I keep wishing that I would have done things differently. I should have been more honest with you, or I should have reached out to you sooner, or —"
"Woulda, coulda, shoulda," King cut her off with a wave of her hand. "If there's anything therapy has taught me, it's that thinking like that is useless. Not that I still don't do it from time to time, but… it's not going to help anything. It'll just drive you mad."
"No, I am — I know," Chizuru faltered. She removed her glasses and abruptly flicked a stray tear from her cheek. She then took several breaths and composed herself, stuffing every bit of sadness and regret she was feeling at that moment to the back of her mind.

"Look. I don't know about you," King began, "but I'd really like to move past the rape discussion portion of our show. It happened. I hit some pretty dark places, but life goes on. So, if you're truly up for friendly conversation that doesn't have anything to do with the hit my old boss put on me, or the Asamiya beating, then by all means…"

Chizuru blinked several times, a little surprised that King still felt like chatting with her even after all of the heaviness of the past few minutes.

"I… yes. I'd like that. Very much…!"

"Okay then —" King set her now empty cup aside — "where would you really like to start?"

Chizuru had to stop and think about what topic they could switch to. Regardless of what it was, she hoped that she and King would be able to put their rocky start behind them and perhaps begin to forge an actual relationship — one built on trust and understanding — but that was going to take a healthy amount of time. (Or not, depending on how strong that Long Island Iced Tea actually was.) She made a face as she thought, but also watched King as she did so: the other woman was a little preoccupied with Marron, who had jumped onto the table and was very aggressively rubbing up against her face.

"Hey, King," Chizuru said as a suitable subject occurred to her. "How do you feel about birds?"

King quirked a brow while gently pushing Marron out of her way.

"...birds?"
"Don't go anywhere," Chizuru commanded her while hopping out of her seat. "There's someone I'd like you to meet!"

With that, Chizuru bounded into the next room over so she could retrieve Chee-chan, her previously melancholy feelings replaced by an almost childlike enthusiasm over the chance to legitimately bond with her former teammate over something perfectly mundane as opposed to trying to subtly piece together some mysterious puzzle about who was lying about what. Bird now on her shoulder, she rushed back to her computer desk, hopeful that, maybe, she and King would both be able to rest a little easier.

Okay! Done! We got through it. They got through it. Here are those notes:

* Chiz canonically likes sleeping
* Chizuru deceived Mai and King to get them to team up with her for the KOF '97 tournament. Go read the official team story.
* No Fear, No Hesitation, No Surprise, No Doubt" is a quote from Miyamoto Musashi
* King suspecting that Iori would be honoured to be stepped on by Chiz is a direct reference to some artwork by the lovely _Mana-chan over on Twitter. She's rad. Go peep her work.
* J'ai été violée par un des copains de Mr. Big = I was raped by one of Mr. Big's cronies; J'ai été enlevé et ils avaient un gun, et j'ai été commotionné, et j'ai été vraiment foutu pendant un moment, mais je vais mieux maintenant ... Mais je pense que vous le saviez déjà = I was kidnapped and they had a gun, and I was concussed, and I was really fucked up for a while, but I'm better now ... But I think you already knew that.
* Je savais, oui = I knew, yes.
* Quel es les mots = What are the words?
* Bien, peu importe = Well, whatever
* King takes 40mg of Paxil daily to treat her mental conditions
* Enlève tes fesses de moi = Get your ass off of me

Alright, you guys! Thank you for your patience and for sticking with this! Hopefully it wasn't weak sauce in the end here! As always, let me know what's up in that sad, empty box below! Cheers!