80 Days

A/N: So sorry for the long update. Me and my laptop had this beef and since he got the upper hand, he was like 'I know! How about I delete his second chapter to make him pay for what he did to me!" And he did! I had to rewrite this entire chapter. Sucks but hey, he's my laptop. Nothing I can do about it.

So yeah sorry again for this long update. Hopefully my laptop won't plan another mutiny, and I can update regularly. Anyway, hope anyone read it!


Perhaps I've been too forward? Nevertheless I put my hand on top of hers, doing it very carefully as I don't know how will she react at my statement. As my hand connect hers, she finally muster enough strength to meet my eyes, fear and anxiety lingering there as I tried my best not to look too demanding or pushing her limit.

"You do not have to be ashamed of who you really are, Miss Korra." I say that word delicately, something that I've never done for a long time, "Our past are what makes us unique, what makes us complete as a human being. You have a special blood running in your vein, the blood of the fearless Cherokee warrior."

She curves her lips to a smile, and I see that as a signal to continue, "You supposed to be proud of your history. Heck, I cannot recount how many tales of Indian fighter that my drill sergeant used to inspire our company. How they have the will and sheer determination to protect their home, their ancestor land." I chuckle as I find myself reminiscing my times as a soldier, "Of course I can't compare myself to them."

Her eyes suddenly lit up as I finish my speech. The pink still linger in her cheek although it's quite hard to tell with her dark skin.

"But…" she looks me in the eye once more, "How did you know that I'm a Cherokee?"

At the mention of that, I reach for my coat pocket and pull out a memento from my times serving the Union army. It is a simple beaded necklace that is made with insane amount of detail. Each bead is carved with small pictures of cougar, bear, owl, and an eagle. All of the beads are hand woven into a necklace.

"Back in my regiment, I had a friend. I called him Hayes and he's a Cherokee himself, and one hell of a soldier he is. We became friends over the course of the war, and we used to have this very strong bond."

I relax into my seat as I reminiscing my times in the army, "We're like brother, always had each other back. I don't know when exactly but he had this idea to made me a necklace as a token of our friendship. Every night in our camp, he spent his time making this necklace, he said that it also help him when he is missing home. And I do know how he regard his heritage so when I received the necklace, I felt honored at the gesture. At that point we are danitaga, always there to help each other. We are inseperatable no matter how impossible the condition it is". I take a deep breath after I finish my sentence, "So yeah, I kind of having this strong bond with Native American, especially those of Cherokee ancestry."

As I look over to her, she stares me deeply with eyes that full of curiosity. She's not moving an inch from where she is sitting, eager to listen my story, "So what happen?"

Oh right, I need to finish the story. I know what happen next, and I cannot maintain the same light tone I use to tell the story, "Then… it happened."

At this point my head is torturing me with flashes of horrid image, but I have to continue somehow, "It was in the middle of the night. The whole camp was dead asleep after a round of drinking and dancing and singing. I did not participate, deciding to head straight to my tent and catch some much needed sleep. I was so deep in my sleep, until I heard the sound I dreaded the most. It so faint, and as such I didn't take it seriously. But what follows after that, is what woke me up. A huge explosion just a few meters away from my tent startle me, and at that point I knew we were in trouble. I grabbed my rifle and wear my uniform as fast as I could, and went outside."

I stop, not because I want to end my story but to prepare what happen next in the story, "The whole camp was in chaos. We were ambushed by a combined arm of bushwhacker and the Confederate. None of us could prepare anything; half of the soldiers are just too drunk to even lift a rifle. We were sitting duck and the enemy took advantage of that. Bullets flying from all direction, often followed by a body drop dead, and fire burned around the camp. Dead bodies both Union and Confederate littered the ground where I stood, and if it were not for the fighting around me, I would have fainted just from the smell of the battlefield. It was Hell, except darker with smoke blocking my view. I found Hayes shooting at the Confederate behind a cover made of wooden crate. I quickly joined him, shooting at anything that move and shoot us. It didn't matter if I shot the wrong guy, our survival instinct override any thought that appeared."

Suddenly I find myself staring at the ocean again. The slow movement of the waves manages to calms me down, "We shot so many men that I lost count of it. My concerns are the fact that we only carried small amount of ammunition to survive the whole battle, and Hayes share the same thought. He ordered me to grab additional ammo from his tent across the camp, and of course I object it. Not because I'm afraid that I would die in the process, I'm afraid that when I left I would lost my danitaga. He flashed me a smile trying to look strong in front of me, but I know deep down he's as scared as I do. But in the face of death I found peace, and with final shook of hand I dashed across the smoke-filled field. The smell of gunpowder was so strong that even if you held your breath, the scent could still found a way to your nose. Screams of pain and agony haunting my ears, and right now I could still hear it lullabying me to sleep. I tried to navigate myself around the battlefield without making any noise, and it was hard what with the smoke blocking the view. I reached this opening where the sounds of gunshots were the loudest, and as crawled I found my sergeant laying still with eyes devoid from life. His abdomen was torn open and I can saw his intestine swimming in a pool of blood. I wish I could stop and grief upon his dead, but I knew that Hayes and I could share the same fate as he does. I just need to find the ammunition and run as far as possible from this nightmare. Long story short, I reached Hayes' tent and found his ammunition. Again I dashed to Hayes, while carefully avoiding confrontation with the Confederate army. "

The pain in my head is getting stronger with each word that comes out of my mouth. It feels like a huge needle is piercing from the back of my skull all the way to the front. But I can't stop my own mouth from continuing the story.

"I found Hayes, leaning in one of the wooden crate soaked up in blood. I checked his condition, praying that life hadn't left him yet. But I was too late… he had a bullet pierce his right eye and two more nesting in his torso. His face… blank from any expression. I drop to my knees, letting out all my anger to the sky above me, to the earth bellow. No tears shed that night… even though I just lost someone I cared the most. There is only anger, and hatred. To the war… to the soul that gone in the process… to the family divided amongst this warring nation. Why am I fighting this war? No one will remember my name or Hayes name when we die. No one will look upon our grave and say 'here die the men that shape our history'. We are nothing but bones lying underneath this earth". My fist balled up from holding my anger and pain. I feel like I'm about to explode, the painful memory is sometimes too much for me to handle.

"I was the sole survivor of the ambush. I wandered around looking for nearby settlements, or at least a place for me to make a report. I couldn't give Hayes a proper burial, too tired to even do anything other than get as far away as possible from that hellhole. When the sun rose above the destroyed camp, and after the smoke cleared, I knew that I will never be the same person."

Then silence fall upon our table. It is not the awkward kind of silence, just… a silence. Guilt washed upon me as I look Korra face. She has this frown not from disgust, but of pity. I feel her hand reaching my balled up fist, and with her thumb, she make a circling motion there. That gesture alone successfully relaxing me, and I feel my tense muscle loosened a bit.

We stay like that for another minute. I am staring outside when I hear a very faint, "I'm… really sorry to hear that."

She has this very small smile on her face, and I find myself smiling. Her smile that radiates happiness to anyone seeing it, a smile that infect people around her, and right now even just as an acquaintance, I make a promise to always make her smile.

"You know what?" I retract my hand and clasp it together, "Enough of this old sad story!"

She looks shocked by my action, and perhaps I'm a bit overacting, but I can't stand the tension. Therefore, with the most gentleman voice I can muster, I raise my glass of water, "I, Jack Rusco, will formally invite you, Miss Korra, as my lunch partner. I might sound too rude for being this forward, but you're company are much needed and if there's anything from this cursed airship that I'm enjoying, is you sitting in this table with me."

She blushed at my word and that's exactly the response that I need, "So, may I have the honor?"

Laughter escapes her mouth and it the most genuine laugh I've ever heard. It's like the sound of thousands of bell ringing in unison, "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

I call the waiter. He come and gives us the menu that mostly consists of fish. I glance at Korra who bite her lower lip and her index finger hovering above the menu as she picks her dish. Then she looks up from reading the menu and stares at my eyes, as if she is waiting for me to choose first.

"You do not need to wait for me, pick anything you like. All on me."

"No, I can pa-"

"Nonsense! I almost ruin your day with my story. Allow me to make it up for you by paying this lunch."

She looks unsure, but I believe she don't want to press further. She looks at the menu again and says to the waiter, "I'll take the salmon fillet then."

"Make that two, please."

The waiter nods and leaves our table. A couple of minutes later another waiter come, this time offering Korra a glass of water. After the glass is full, she takes a quick sip from her glass.

"So…" she rests her elbow on the table, "Tell me… what brings you to London?"

"Oh, it's actually quite a long story. Perhaps it would be better to say that I received a letter a week ago from my soon-to-be master with his address in London. I hope that my master is an easy one this time. My last one was… shall I say a 'basket case' kind of person."

I shiver just by remembering the old days when I was nothing but a fresh valet experiencing the harsh world of gentleman. Who could have thought that would get a master like that to be my first master. Not me. Hopefully my times serving my old master will qualify me as adequate enough to serve an English gentleman.

Korra then give me this weird look, like the one a curious scientist would give to its specimen, "A… master you say?"

I stop drinking to answer Korra's question, "Ah, pardon me. I believe that I forget to tell you that I'm a valet."

She just stares me. There is no better way to describe her right now. Confusion etched in her face is clear as the afternoon sky, and I believe I know just why.

"You do know what a valet is, right?"

She just shakes her head. Well it is not so surprising –perhaps the concept of personal service is foreign back in her community.

"Well…" I put my glass down and clasp my hand, "… a valet is a person that attends their master. We do our best to satisfy our master personal need. As our motto would say 'the satisfaction of personal need is our deed'."

Korra then tap her chin, deep in thought, "So… you attend your master?"

"Yes I am" I grab my glass and take a good swig. Now Korra might have a bit insight about our j-

"Is that makes you a… servant… or slave?" she says in a hushed tone. I confess I almost spit out all of the water inside my mouth –if not for my good self-restraint I might cause a scene here. Instead, I choke my throat, and it takes a few cough and chest pounding to direct the water to it right path. Korra not oblivious with my struggle stands up from her chair to help me. Or at least try to –I held up a hand as a sign to stop, still in my coughing fit.

"Ma'am…" a few cough manage to escape my mouth, "… you cannot compare a valet with… them."

"We are above that! We are…" I pause to give a dramatic effect, before saying the sentence with such finality, "… a gentleman's gentleman."

I believe that I succeed at making Korra even more confused. Her face scrunched up in a way that looks like either she is trying to process my word or coming up with another question.

"A gentleman's gentleman?"

I nod. What else could I say? I grab my glass once again and drink its content. It sure is exhausting to explain the very basic concept of valet-ing, especially to someone like Korra.

"Why is there a gentleman's gentleman?"

"Because there is a gentleman" I say matter-of-factly. I cannot blame her though –the concept of valeting is really complex to be understood in a matter of second.

"Then how come you are a gentleman's gentleman?"

God this is going to be long, "Well because I serve my master; a gentleman. Therefore I am a gentleman's gentleman."

She stays silent, but knowing her level of curiosity –a genuine kind of curiosity─ there's bound to come another question.

"So your master is a gentleman?" She narrow her eyes while and of her hand tapping her chin, "Is he also a gentleman's gentleman?"

"Of course not. Then he would not be a gentleman" I answer while adding that, "Only a gentleman may have a gentleman's gentleman."

"But are you… a gentleman? You said you were, after all, a 'gentleman's gentleman'."

"Indeed, but I am not a gentleman, I am just a gentleman's gentleman."

Korra once again give me her what-are-you-talking-about look. A look that at this point, I familiar with. She keep giving me the look, and I believe she actually wait for me to elaborate.

"There are gentleman and gentleman," I explain tactfully and carefully as I try my best to avoid any confusion, "I am a gentleman, but fear I can't call myself a true gentleman. And because I am not a true gentleman, I am technically a gentleman's gentleman. Therefore as a gentleman's gentleman, I cannot employ a gentleman's gentleman of my own, for that is the privilege of a true gentleman."

Suddenly Korra's eyes lit up as if she just received a revelation, "Ah, then you really are a gentleman's gentleman!"

I smile full of pride at that word, "Indeed so."

Then we continue to wait for our lunch. There is no sound in our table, beside the occasional drumming sounds of my finger on the table. Then it dawns me that I haven't ask Korra her reason going to London.

"How about you?"

She looks up, and her blue eyes shot me a questioning look.

"I mean no disrespect but… what a young lady like you doing in an airship heading to London –alone, may I add?"

She smiles at my question. "Well… actually, I wasn't going to London. My destination is Cambridge."

"As in the University of Cambridge?"

She nods, "Yeah. I'm going to study law there."

I raise my eyebrow. Then it would explain the book currently lying next to her plate, "An interesting choice. May I ask you why?"

It takes only a mere second for Korra to change the smile in her lips into a frown. It might be quick, but my trained eye still sees it nonetheless, and concern flood me. Am I saying something wrong? An apology is about to come out from my mouth, before she speaks up.

"Nu na da ul tsun yi."

Korra said it so softly –it's barely audible. I'm quite sure I've heard that word somewhere, but I can't put my finger at where exactly.

"You do know what happened to the Cherokee before me, right?"

And then it hits me. Of course I heard that word, Hayes once told me. I know all of the story from Hayes, the story of how the Cherokee forced to relocate from their land. Korra eyes never leave mine, as if waiting for my response.

I nod, "Yes, Hayes once told me about that."

Korra release a loud sigh. Her gaze is now directed at the ocean outside, watching the slow movement of the wave.

"Some of the adults in my tribe were a survivor of the relocation. They sworn to never told the younger generation about the relocation since they feared that it might cause hatred to the white people."

I don't like where this is going. But apparently my mouth betray my brain, and I suddenly blurt out, "So… do you… really hates the white people?"

It sounds stupid. I'm playing in a rough water here, and I hope I didn't add fuel to the already burning fire. I'm about to apologize, until she snap her look from the window. Now she's gazing at me dead in the eyes, and for all dignity left in me –I flinch in my seat. God know how long I've been shooting people and of course that means I had to look said people in the eye. I've saw many expressions in my opponent eyes, but the one Korra gives to me, it is another story. I can't specifically read what those blue eyes are saying –I see anger, agony, hatred, regret, and sorrow all at the same time.

"Yes."


Phew, so that was chapter two. Stay tunes for the next chapter! And if any of you (that is of course, if there is anyone reading this story) wondering if there's a trip around the world in just 80 days in this story? Well duh, the title is quite obvious guys. I'm using the universe from the "80 Days" game (you should play that game!) with a few character from the LoK series thrown in this story as you travel around the world. They might help you progress, or not. I have to stop here, lest I give a spoiler of my own story.

Keep on reading and reviewing guys!