It was hot. Hot enough that the air felt wet, and heavier then it usually was with the thick smog that wrapped around Roanapur in the industrial parts. Heat waves bounced off the roads, a mirage shimmering, angry as ever, in the distance. The summer was weeks of white-hot temperatures, humid evenings and increasing crime. Hot weather drove people insane.
Revy had made the staggering pilgrimage to the church from the Plymouth she managed to steal; in such a temperature Benny remained fast asleep in front of the blue light of his computer. Normally he'd try to slip out to see Jane, but the keys to Revy's surprise were strewn across the kitchen counter. The red vintage had faded tan seats, but the leather burned the back of her thighs all the same.
If she stayed back at the apartment Dutch would have dragged her out again to help clean up the sundered and desecrated dock. It was enjoyable at first to spend long hours in the cool sea that reflected her annoyed face back at her; after two days Revy grew exhausted from repetitive motion of collecting the shards of wood that floated close to the shore. The pillars that supported the long structure were splintered like messily cut down trees, and their boat appeared naked floating by itself. She wanted to get drunk and sleep in.
When Revy groaned at such a task Dutch had simply replied something about the spirit of renewal, tossing the water-logged pieces into a pile. They ran out of decent alcohol, prompting everybody to swear they had made the trip last time, and to her rage the designated spot in the fridge remained empty. Revy would pull the white door open, repeatedly, expecting a beer to materialize out of the air. Shifting into park, she unstuck her legs and heaved herself out, flicking the keys out of the ignition. The tall palm trees cast long shadows across the lot, bowing along the structure of the church; the grass wilted in the harsh sun, an electric shade of green.
Men in sacerdotal robes were seen unloading more bricks of cocaine from a rusted truck; the driver leaning against the hood, smoking a cigarette. Everyday there was another shipment of drugs, overpriced and diluted. There were the weapons Chang graciously allowed, but nothing was as grandiose as the Desert Eagle Yolanda carried, the Triad leader would have never allowed it. The walk up to the building was agonizing, like a forced march. The wound in her leg had healed well enough after two months of hobbling around, but the ache remained. Palming the keys in her jean pocket, Revy cupped a hand over her eyes to be able to make out the oasis that would be the church's air conditioning.
"It fucking reeks of weed out here Eda, let me the fuck in," Revy rapped on the door, her voice loud enough to make the priests in the yard glance in her direction. The men didn't bat an eye at her anymore, after the first gunfight Eda and Revy had they were unflappable. The door was locked, to her surprise when she yanked on the handle, metal rung slapping back and forth against the door when she gave up. Revy mopped her sunburnt forehead with her tank top, and in a fit of rage, kicked it with the heel of her boot. "Eda, open this fucking door now or I swear to Jesus Christ I'll-"
It was a few seconds before the oak door swung towards her quick, right to her reddened face. Revy was knocked down to hard ground and almost fell flat on her back, elbows pushing into the dirt. On instinct she gripped the bridge of her pulsing nose with two fingers, feeling the bone. After their first meeting, Revy had not taken long to realize that Eda was quieter than her swaggering walk made her seem, quicker too. "Eda! You fucking bitch!"
"Well, shit. I didn't know your huge ass head was right there. What the fuck were you doing?" Eda spat out a wad of chewing tobacco, wiping her mouth. She smelled like she previously had a glass of alcohol. The faint lines around her eyes tightened at the intrusion of light.
"Fucking shit! It's twelve and you're already getting wasted?" Revy's fingers fluttered along her cupid's bow, feeling for any blood dripping down.
"It's hot! Get your ass in here before the fucking heat comes in!"
Revy scrambled to her feet, wiping the dust off her as she sluggishly entered, back bent. Her clothes were stuck to her skin, a blotch of sweat seeping through the back of her tank top, her armpits wet. The back of her thighs felt even worse; the belt wrapped around her shorts rubbed against her bare skin. Now I fucking regret not diving for shitty planks.
"You smell like shit," Eda complained, leading her deeper into the church, past the pews and towards the altar. Light poured from the stained glass windows, illuminating baby Jesus and Mary's serene faces. There were no candles lit, no flickering of the old lights. Just cool darkness, and it was a minute before Revy's eyes adjusted to the light.
"Fuck you too," Revy eyed the pews. The hard wood seemed like a decent place to pass out, she had fallen asleep in worse locations. Her boots thundered loudly in the empty hall, a majority of the members appeared to be outside dealing with the merchandise, no sounds of voices or footsteps could be heard beyond the main hall. It was only Eda.
The nun waved her hand at her without turning her head. "We've got bourbon, the shitty kind admittedly, but I mean it's better then the fucking tap water we get out here."
"Wasn't there a dead animal in your water supply? And you all literally fuckin', drank it for how long?" Revy questioned, raising an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her chapped lips.
"It was a rat. And besides, you haven't told me about you and lover-boy." Eda replied, drawling out the end of her sentence. Revy felt a sense of familiar dread run down her spine, starting from the back of her neck to her tailbone. It coiled in her stomach and all the blood in her body rushed to her heart. The nun let out a laugh, and Revy gambled that the agony she struggled with appeared on her sweaty face.
"I washed my hands in that shit! I drank it!" Revy snapped, lips curling in disgust. The burgundy strands of her hair fell down along the sides of her face before she wiped it back, calloused fingers tucking the hair behind her ears. Her limp ponytail dragged across the red-hot sunburn on her shoulders. The humidity made her feel as though she was in a hot bath, always on the verge of drowning.
They both dragged a chair to the sides of the altar, the scraping sound of the legs on the artisanal wood floor making Eda wince. Revy supposed that the one talk from Yolanda about marking the floors had set Eda on edge.
"Are you sure you didn't spit it out because of the fact you never drink any water? I think if you actually had a real ass glass you'd fucking pass out." The nun's voice echoed strangely in the open space, the flat coolness of the air making her words ring louder.
"It tasted like fucking death, and I've eaten garbage that tasted better." Revy's tongue wet her lips at the sight of the alcohol before her, crinkling her sore nose.
"Back to the task at hand..." Eda gave a sharp-toothed grin, pouring Revy a small glass, the beads of moisture running down the bottle and dripping onto the waxed table. "Whet my appetite. How's he doing? Any new girls in his life?"
"I don't know," Revy mumbled, catching the glass as it slid towards her. The liquor was a comforting shade of brown, like the soda she'd drink as a kid. "Rock's been busying it up with Mr. Chang for some fucking reason. He's never worked with him too much before, but fuck I know, right?"
"You know, there's a ton of shit you can get in life if you're willing to submit to like, the horror of just simply asking for it." Eda stated, her lighthearted tone dampening the implications.
"Asking for what?" Revy fidgeted in her chair. She held the glass up to her mouth, cupping her hands around it to feel the coldness seep into her bottom lip. She was more thirsty than she realized.
"I'm asking. Did you fuck him already? You gave me the shittiest answer I've ever heard in my life last time. Japan. Remember? You're just gonna hold out on me like-" Eda narrowed her eyes, leaning forward, lips touching her own glass to take a small sip.
"There's nothing to say, bitch." Revy downed the glass instead of offering an answer, a real one, not just a shitty side step to hide her mortification. In Japan it was the perfect situation for that to have happened, expensive rooms next to each other, a queen bed with soft sheets, a large shower. She was alone and so was he. Deep down, despairingly, she knew that if she had snuck into his room and laid beside him she would have felt more lonely.
The nun raised her glass in the air as she caught Revy's expression. "Hah! You're blushing."
"There wasn't a lot of fucking time- we were doing so much shit for Hotel Moscow, Sis was a fucking maniac-" Revy refuted, tiredly.
"Sis?" Eda let out a guttural, deep laugh. She leaned back, hand on her chest as she cackled, liquid sloshing in her cup. "What, did she teach you to ride a bike or something? Hm, she pushed you on a swing?"
She remembered the stunt Rock pulled in Japan, a stunt that was too bold to be described as his mere hobby. Yukio was young, thrown into an underworld too late. She was in love too- Ginji, Jumbo- whatever his name was, a man death obsessed, who towered above her. In her last moments Yukio stared at him with a softness filling her brown eyes, a surrender to the katana in her grasp. All that horror was for love. Rock put his neck out on the line, despite the hanging knowledge that Hotel Moscow didn't enjoy loose ends. Balalaika hadn't even met Yukio. There was nothing that could appeal her to Yukio's teenaged humanity.
But Balalaika threw him on the car, wrenched her arm back and tossed him by his jacket, hard, onto the hood and held him there. Her hips pressed tight to him, his leg between her legs and she towered over him, gun near pressed against his cheek and he's struggling, and Revy's panicking. Her guns twitch in her hands and she's trembling, eyes wide and her mouth almost fell open. The situation was hopeless. Boris had his gun pointed straight at her, face stoic like a marble slab.
She wanted to kill the both of them. If Rock died it would all collapse into itself, she'd have to go hysterical. Her pointer fingers danced on the triggers, soft tapping on the metal barely dragging her out of her own head. If there had been an ounce of fear in Boris, he didn't show it. The gun in his hand pointed directly at her head, the arm still.
When the Russian had uttered her name so glacially, Revy felt her body stiffen at the remark, so much so she could only repeat her words and beg her to just shut up, to stop speaking in the way she did. Her voice trembled, and the sense of being flayed- of being cut open, and hands digging into the ancient, open wounds wrapped tight around every vein.
"Uh, hello, Revy, I'm talking to you." Sharp sounds of fingers snapping ripped Revy out of her head, the glazed look over her eyes dying with a few quick blinks. The drink was still in her hand, droplets of water running between her fingers, dripping slowly onto the table. Lifting the maybe-clean glass to her mouth, she took a deep gulp, licking what remained on her lips while setting the glass back down. "Are you fucking on drugs today? Dipping into our supply?"
"Shut the fuck up. I was thinking of when we had a fucking Mexican stand off sort of shit. Rock couldn't keep his fucking mouth shut."
"Yeah, yeah. Him and that mouth huh?" Eda threw her head back, downing the rest of her drink with a satisfied gulp. "You ask your sissy for relationship advice? Ain't Fry Face surrounded by those giants-"
"We kissed." Revy interrupted, eyes going blank, thankful for the sunburn that that stretched down her face. She crossed her legs and glanced at the ground. Her back slumped, a silent white flag waving in the distance. She threw her head back and finished her entire glass, squeezing her eyelids shut and holding her breath. The nun didn't reply as fast as she thought she would.
"Who?" Eda peered over the edge of her glasses, eyebrows raised. Her hand paused holding the bourbon, a wet ring left where it once stood.
Revy could barely string words together, panic choking her so fast. "What the- Rock, dumbass! Who else!"
"Uh, thank the Lord? How was he?" It was more a command than a question.
Rock had helped her out of their hotel and towards the airport, half carrying her. She'd been so drugged up from the pain medication she could barely function, and every movement of her torn leg caused spikes of torment to ripple through her body. His arm was warm despite the winter weather, and she clutched to him. Gripping at his shirt, her hat hung low in front of her eyes, and she forced herself to let go once he obtained her crutches. But Revy didn't want to let go, and at the turn of his head to her she thrust her mouth to his, tasting the tea he drank twenty minutes ago. Searching for warmth that could curl inside her, give her comfort for the pain.
"Fuck, why did you look?" She mumbled into his lips, eyes sliding shut. Rock didn't have an answer for her, pulling away. More questions stirred in her head, but she was so exhausted she couldn't voice them properly. She was chilled to the bone. Why the hell did you look? Did you get you wanted? Did you become even more fucking jaded then you were already becoming? What's happening to you? What's happening to us? What's happening to me?
Revy ran her fingers through her hair. She didn't know what to say to Eda, how to explain it without coming off as pathetic, pawing at Rock in a moment of pained desperation, a pathetic attempt for attention she craved. "It was, it was a fucking- It was a kiss, alright? It was after my leg was fucking stabbed, I had no clue what I was fucking doing." Revy slammed her glass back onto the table without realizing her own strength.
She wondered if the strands of Balalaika's blonde hair scraped Rock's cheek. If she felt warm, or cold, or how tight her grip was. All pressure and stillness and no release. Or how her lips looked pulled back in an insane smirk. And maybe the blood lust in her eyes: it didn't matter if she flirted or enjoyed Rock as her interpreter, he could become an obstacle. Revy was left unsure and desperate. It was all a game to Balalaika until it wasn't.
Another thought slithered into her mind, the memory of them at breakfast. They'd all sat together at some western-inspired restaurant, Balalaika, without saying it, wasn't willing to try anything that resembled Japanese cuisine. With her lips around her cigar, declared that as with all of their shared dining, money was of no issue to her. Boris ordered a cup of coffee, black, while Balalaika and Rock ordered tea. The waitress' smile drooped a bit once she looked at Balalaika, eyes widening at the scar that scaled down the woman's face. Revy knew that look; she'd had the same one when she saw the Russian for the first time, the severe trauma worse under the searchlight.
Revy paused once the waitress turned to her, navy pen gripped tight to the notebook in her hand.
"Now, I did say you could order whatever you wanted, Two Hands. Just because we all ordered drinks does not mean you must do the same." With her eyes momentarily closed Balalaika tilted her mouth into her cigar, a slow exhale of smoke floated from her parted lips. Her blue, offputtingly pale eyes opened towards Revy, catching her attention from reading the crisp-black prices on the menu. Revy instantly turned to face the quiet woman taking their orders.
"I'll have uh, toast, and same tea as them." She jutted her chin at Rock who was beside her. He didn't look at her, instead at a paper he was actually allowed to read, pointer finger running along each sentence.
Balalaika bent her head towards her throat, eyes glancing quick at the waitress and back at Revy. The corners of Balalaika's lips were upturned, eyes crinkling. The tense posture she held before relaxed, wide shoulders sloping and she leaned against the seat. The flattened look of confusion on Revy's face made humored her. How stupid she must have been to make the blonde actually pay attention to her like that? Revy was hesitant to even think that she could have caused Balalaika to smile as only she capable of. the closed-lipped smile wrinkling the scar on her cheek. Revy had never seen an honest, joyful smile on the blonde's face.
The hand Revy had under the table on her lap tightened into a fist between her knees, as she gave the cream-colored menu to the waitress. She felt like a child. "Please."
Balalaika's expression didn't change, her cigar now balanced between her teeth. She looked at Revy, from her forehead to the ends of her hair. It was different than the once-overs she always gave Rock, silently testing him at every turn. She was acting as if Revy was something new to behold, like Balalaika had never paid attention to her before, and finally , out of all days, was now was taking her in. Boris politely caught her attention to survey the documents he brought out, and they began a conversation in Russian.
It was nearly the same expression Balalaika had given her that night on the boat when she saw her for the first time. An unwanted blush spread across Revy's cheeks and forehead. She felt watched, and to her anger, seen.
Rock was too smart for his own good; it was not as much a blessing but a curse that at rare moments would ricochet back into his face. He told Revy he didn't get the best marks in school, he was average and she guessed in Japan that it was a death sentence to a normal man like him. The highest grade she ever got was in sixth grade, an eighty-one on a quiz in multiplication. After a long walk home, she had considered putting it up on the fridge, like the kids do in movies. It remained there for weeks, abandoned. Eventually in a fit of rage Revy had torn it up.
"Just one kiss?! Well, that's one step for you. Didn't think you had it in ya'," Eda had already poured herself another glass, and reached over to refill Revy's glass. "Drink up. You look like you fucking need it."
"My nose still fucking hurts. If you broke it-" Revy's head swam. The bourbon was shit, tasted like shit, and made her feel like absolute shit. A sick sense of comfort arose whenever she took another sip, another slosh of liquid making her brain hazy, She didn't want to entertain any more thoughts of Rock, his mouth on hers, and especially Fry Face herself. Supporting herself on an elbow, she glared at Eda, who yawned and leaned her head back. Is it a fucking game to you too, Eda? Does this shit get you anything?
"What? Like your ass was going to be in a beauty pageant?"
"You keep running your damn mouth and I'll break your fucking nose too." Revy brought the glass up to her mouth and saw that she'd already drank what Eda had poured her. She wasn't drunk yet, not after a few glasses, but it was on the horizon, ready to cross the threshold. Don't ever hope to have a life like his. The remark sounded so personal, a just-us-girls twinge. It begged the question of what type of life did she always have?