Debt
I'll spare you the irrelevant details about my shower and the cleaning I had to do after Ivan left me to my thoughts. He had this expression when he did, too. This expression that was so awfully familiar. It was a longing... Absolute need. Now that I think back to it, why it was so familiar was obvious. Katyusha always wore that look when she was whisked away into the night in some beat down cab. But that look the Russian wore? It was not for me. Obviously. Who it was for... I didn't care to know, though it was as clear as day. Believe me, there are many times in this story that I 'don't care to know' anything. So... You'll be happy to hear I did go to work for that day. It was, unfortunately, one of the last days I went.
"Arthur..." My eyes snapped up briefly from my lukewarm coffee to see my co-worker. He was the only person I could ever imagine confiding in. He was my closest mate, sadly enough. I say sadly because the feeling wasn't often considered to be mutual between the two of us. He had a way about him that made it difficult to read what he was actually thinking. Like right then, with him staring at me so intently. With those soulless brown eyes that seemed to suffocate me in something similar to quick sand, it was impossible to truly catch his meaning. He sported a fresh purpling bruise on the left side of his face. I wondered, briefly, how hard he fell. Because that was as much as anyone was told on an average day. If the man was feeling particularly close to me, which was rare, he might spill a word or two about his failures as a younger brother (oh, how I knew the tale). But this was an average day, and so, like everyone else... All I knew was that he had a hard fall. 'Clumsy goose' is what the greying female secretaries foolish enough to believe his excuses called him.
"I have a favor to ask of you." More favors... He didn't seem to notice my reluctant grimace. "My brother is needing a ride later next week and I am unable to do this for him since I have my classes scheduled around the time he needs me... It is not too far, I assure you." I groaned before taking a long swig of my bitter coffee. He had so many brothers.. "Which one, Kiku?" I questioned as I set my Styrofoam cup down. The man tensed for a moment. He then furrowed his brow. "...I do not see why it matters, but my eldest. Yao." Ah, how the name just made me shudder with disgust. It was another one of those things I really didn't see any reason to get involved in. Even before Francis Bonnefoy offered me that blank check... I turned a blind eye to the bloke's problems. I suppose I was not innocent... But deliberately ignorant. And even when the information was presented to me, I just... Chose to look the other way. Rarely did helping someone in trouble end well, in reality. Such a perspective was not mine alone... In the lovely city of London.
"Kiku. I don't think I should..." I trailed off, his chilled gaze settling me into a silence. "This man has raised me from adolescence. He still allows me to stay with him, despite my inability to pay bills... Discipline is only natural as long as I continue to make mistakes." I cringed at the familiarity. I didn't dare point out how similar his words matched that of a victim of abuse in a marital situation... Or any situation, really. "I realize this is an inconvenience for you, and so I swear to pay you back as best I can. I am just pleading you take him to where he needs to go... You are the only one at the office that I..." Trust? Need? Those weren't words I wanted to hear, but it would be nice if that's how he were going to finish. "...That I believe won't insult him with intrusive questions."
Ah. Like why his little brother showed up to work bruised and sometimes didn't show at all? The marks rivaled that of what I saw on the jigsaw puzzle I know... Knew, as Alfred F. Jones. Oh... Hell. Why am I thinking of him? Forgive me. Sometimes it just slips. What's important is that Kiku was asking me a favor. One of which I would regret later on... But then... The rest of that year, I would be regretting a lot of favors. "...Where does he need to be driven?" The Asian brightened for the briefest of moments. He then told me, "The clock tower, next Friday. Thank you." And left me to my thoughts. Through the rest of that day I turned the idea of helping Kiku over in my mind. Looked at it every which way. Near the end of my shift... I had convinced myself that driving the man's brother would actually be a good deed. It would prevent the formation of a fresher mark... It would prevent a string of 'I fell's.
After work, rather than going to have a drink with my co-workers like I usually did I headed for my car. I'm sorry if it seems like I'm rushing a bit... But I don't see why you'd want details about the crescent moon that appeared to be clinging to the darkened sky in silent desperation of being noticed or the whistling wind warning me of a chilly night. I slipped into my rust bucket and turned the ignition, briefly catching sight of a scene. My dearest mate was holding his eye, looking up at a man that looked as if he were about to implode. Oh, and how I wanted to phone the authorities.. If he had in fact inflicted yet another mark upon the smaller man. But.. I'm ashamed to say I pulled out of the parking lot and pushed it out of my mind. Because I hadn't really... Seen the lad get hit. And it wasn't up to me to call the police unless he appeared to be in true danger... Right? It's what I told myself, anyway.
On my drive, I tried to ease my mind. Next Friday felt oddly closer than it had before I'd been asked that favor. It was not unreasonable for Kiku to have asked me to do that. I mean, we were... 'Friends', though I had to use the word loosely sometimes. If one were to ask the Asian he might just say we were good acquaintances. He was so socially awkward.. And cold. Well, not cold.. More like.. Distant. And I couldn't blame him. There were hardly any trustworthy blokes around London. His own brother was making him resemble a chew toy that had been thrown to the dogs far too many times. Upon reaching the lovely little park I had planned on visiting my sweet at, I cut the engine and exited the vehicle. I then adjusted my tie and quickly slipped into that suave, confident.. Arthur Kirkland. I don't know why I did that... She just made me feel as if everything were alright.
I was not five minutes into my search around the park when I felt arms around my waist and heard soft bubbly giggles by my ear. I think my stomach knotted in ten different knots then. Can't say for sure; counting stomach knots isn't exactly a skill of mine. "Why hello there Mr. Kirkland~ Care to dance?" She hummed pleasantly, breath coming out warm against my ear. It took me a moment to recover and respond. "Of course, my dear lady." I murmured before slipping away from her grasp then taking her hands in mine. I've never been a great dancer... Two left feet, you know. And so Katyusha always got a kick out of teasing me if we danced. She'd always say something like 'maybe I should lead when we dance at our wedding'. I'd flush in embarrassment then laugh and brush her off. It wouldn't be such a bad idea... Her leading. And maybe she would. Will. It's a shrug worthy thought.
We danced in an awkward twirl, her giggling madly.. Me trying not to trip over my own feet. It was actually sort of nice. Alas, I eventually did trip. Over air. Don't ask how. As stated before, dancing and I never did go hand in hand. We fell in a less than graceful tangle of limbs. With me on my back, and her on top of me... I believe I was seeing several different stars. Pain. Aching need in my nether regions. Flustered amusement. "Oh, Mr. Kirkland, you're absolutely magnificent on your feet!" She mocked with a small laugh, light and sweet. Angelic really, to my willing ears. "And you, my dear, might catch my disease this close. You know... The talentless one?" I said in reply, laughing along with her. Happy. That's the only word there was to describe those moments between us. And as vulgar as our bodies position may have appeared, all I could focus on was her smile. So it shouldn't surprise you, Father, that it was exactly then I heard the most perfect of chuckles. Smooth and charming, with the faintest hints of something sinister. Perhaps it was all fate. Perhaps I was meant to be under his thumb. Perhaps I was meant to be a soulless husk. That would clear up some things, like- why me?
"Mon ami, I was not aware you knew Miss Braginskaya." Rather than looking up in confusion or stammering out an explanation, I quickly untangled my limbs from hers and stood. She soon followed suit, cheeks an adorable shade of pink. She seemed... Confused, in all honesty. I would've taken note of it if I weren't so busy studying the French amphibian standing before us. He had his usual ridiculous cape... And I could smell his stifling cologne, despite him being a good distance away. "Oh, must you give me that expression whenever we meet? Why can you never smile at me? You will get wrinkles with such a look." He chuckled a bit then glided closer to us. I instinctively grabbed her hand. Which.. Was one of the most stupid of moves I could ever have pulled in front of the bloke. His lips tugged into this odd... Knowing.. Smile. A smile that would make a woman swoon. A smile that could make me hurl.
"...H-Hello, sir...?" The woman was digging her nails into my hand... And I let her. She had every right to be on edge around him. "Bonjour, dear. I am... A friend, to your brother.. 'E 'as been looking for you." He hummed pleasantly, and though there were many questions she appeared to be ready to utter.. He seemed to be nearly done speaking with her. As if it were a waste of his breath to explain just what he was doing there. "You 'ave made 'im so worried... The poor boy. 'E 'as been a wreck all day. Do go show 'im you are alright. Over there." He pointed to a path, and I wouldn't be surprised if he had chosen it at random. Despite tightening my grasp on her hand, as if to silently say 'stay', as if to silently say 'I need you', she quickly tugged it away and with a soft goodbye, she left me with the Frog to go in search for her younger brother... She always did put them before herself. Or even before me, really. I can't say I minded on a normal day... But right then, the feeling of abandonment was unbearably strong.
Watching my woman go with his bright blue eyes, I saw a bit of interest flicker in them. I could not place what it meant though.. And the only assumption that came to mind was lust. The feeling of disgust coupled with my waves of abandonment made me sick. I swallowed back bile. "...Ivan would kill you, if 'e were to 'ear about this, mon cheri." He said as he slipped a stray golden lock of hair behind his ear. There was no drawn out explanation for why he was there. There was no drawn out explanation for how he knew Katyusha and I were... Together. If this were all a television show, or maybe even a book, maybe the author would clear it up for me. Maybe there would be a strike of lightening to match my mood.. Alas, this was reality. And in reality, all you can do is make an 'educated guess' when you don't have an answer, as my teachers use to say.
"Are you going to blackmail me, Mr. Bonnefoy?" He seemed to find my blatant accusation funny... Because he laughed. It was delicate and gentle, much like his expression. Perhaps he was blessed with such beautiful traits because of how horrid his twisted insides were. "I see no reason to. Besides, I could never ruin young love... It would not be right." Yet it was perfectly alright to pimp damn near children out on the streets. "But I am glad our paths crossed... I want to 'ave a discussion about... My merchandise." He moved closer with that last punctuated word. Close enough for me to visibly stiffen and turn quite a few shades of green. "Do not look so ill, Arthur." He reached out to touch my cheek, and it was no surprise to him that I slapped his graceful fingers away before such contact could be made. "It's Mr. Kirkland, to you... And don't touch me. Your 'merchandise' is with..." Yank, barbarian, street trash, jigsaw, gangster, trouble maker... The list of names goes on and on.
"...The boy. It's with him. I have nothing to do with it." At this, he merely gave me that odd little smile that I was quickly getting use to. "...I do not know that, monsieur." I was going to open my mouth to argue... But it quickly came to me just what he was getting at. My mouth felt dry and my heart hammered against my chest painfully hard. "...I'm not lying, and you know it! Do I look like a...? Your assistant... Mate... Whatever, he was there! He saw..." I trailed off, fidgeting in place as the man stood there. Looking taller and taller. "Petit Ivy told me that you merely did not 'ave the bag. Nothing else." He did not clarify on what the lad was to him, but I had the vaguest of ideas considering the Russian's lack of money and apparent strength. But the relationship between the two wasn't important. What was important was the fact that Francis was pushing the idea of me lying... And there being quite a sum of 'merchandise' gone without a single bit of profit towards him.
"Clearly I didn't... I wouldn't..." He clicked his tongue in something of distaste then shook his finger at me. As if I were a naughty child, caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Though we both knew that wasn't the case. "I understand it is mainly the Spaniard's fault... But.. That does not excuse you. That was over three grams. Now, I will not insult you by assuming you do not 'ave the money to pay me back... So I expect to be paid in full. I would 'ate to bring.. My men... Into this." He didn't want my money. Not with the way his eyes brightened and briefly appraised me.. Like a new toy on the shelf just within his reach. But I had standards. Rules. Beliefs. I swallowed thickly, uncomfortable. "...I... How... How much is...?" Though I didn't finish, he seemed to know what I was trying to ask right off the bat. "Roughly a thousand or so." A thousand. Or so. I nearly choked on pure oxygen. I had bills below that price, and I could hardly pay those. How was I going to pay that? Over a small bag of 'mud' that I hadn't used to begin with?
Noting my perplexed expression, I'd like to say his eyes softened a bit. I'd like to say he gave me a break and stopped with the games. But no. That's not what he did. In fact, he seemed even more pleased than usual. Because it was such an accomplishment to have me backed up in a corner. "If it is too much trouble for you there are other ways. I 'ave a shortage of.. Workers." I took a step away from him as he spoke, knowing I'd need more than one drink for the night. I then turned on my heels, trying to suppress the urge to shake. "...No thank you, Frog. I have a job." I wondered briefly what his face looked like at that. Probably doubtful and amused. "Ah, très bien. Please 'ave it to me soon. We'll keep in touch~!" I walked as he called that out to me. My head was aching and I felt... Off. And as I made my way to the rusted Bentley in the parking lot, I began to think about different jobs. Different ways to go about this..
And when exactly... 'soon' was.
A/N: I... Did it! XD Finally. Dude.. This took bazillions of years... Probably lost quite a few readers like that.. Pfft. Lazy ass me. Ya know, I've noticed a few mistakes in most of the chapters.. Like, I keep saying money, or 'dollars'... Which I like to think is totally universal... But maybe I should be saying pounds instead? I should've set this in America to avoid all this confusion... Hm. Anyhow. I am back on the horse! And though I know this will probably be a pretty long story (I can't cram all of my ideas for this into one big chapter and say 'the end' ) I shall try and keep on it. And probably stop with the promises too, while I'm at it? I'm awful at keeping them as we all know... Eheh. Hope you enjoyed, though it was a bit rushed. -Fool