Week 1: Repayment

As he approached the entrance to the structure, Roman couldn't help but feel a bit of doubt towards his latest decision. Which was surprising, since Roman wasn't usually a man who doubted his actions.

Sure, there were plenty of times where he'd doubt the decisions of others, since the people he often worked with couldn't be trusted to understand basic concepts like 'sense' or 'long-term feasibility'. And, he'd admit, there were times where he'd regret a decision because of unexpected circumstances rendering his plans moot, but those times didn't really count. Really, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the number of instances he had actually second-guessed himself few and far in between.

And this particular incident wasn't necessarily that clear cut. So, perhaps he wasn't doubting his latest decision, but merely considering the results?

Yeah. Now that he thought about it, he was perfectly content with the decision itself. There was no doubt he'd enjoy watching it come to fruition, nor was there any question that he'd arrange something similar again in a heartbeat. Really, it was the cost of the aftermath that had given him some pause. Was he truly ready to accept the consequences of his actions?

Of course he was.

Roman turned to his partner in crime, his motion slow and deliberate as he slowly appraised the other person. Rarely did he have the chance to work with someone so committed to their decision; the closest he could think of were the zealots of White Fang, but even their misguided determination paled in comparison to the person before him. Allowing himself a single, deep breath, the crook finally spoke out, his voice barely audible as he appraised her expression. "... Ready, kid?"

His only response was a nod, completely silent and completely resolved, prepared to see everything through to the end.

"Good." Without another word, the criminal unlocked the door, a single motion that no one heard, let alone saw, as he deftly opened the way forward. And almost immediately, all hell broke loose.

Roman smiled.

"Rubypleasedon'tkillTear!"

The brat was off like a damned missile, kicking herself off the ground as she threw herself at Red with the energy only a child could muster. As expected, Red wasn't exactly prepared for the sudden intrusion, and whatever task she was doing had been quickly replaced by a swift transition to the hardwood floor, marked by the sound of body hitting wood. He doubted that Recette was ready for the sudden stop either, judging by the second impact and cry that followed. At the end of it all was two brats, sprawled along the shop floor, twitching and groaning in pain.

To her credit, Recette recovered quickly, hopping up to her feet as she staggered for a few steps, only to turn her attention to a shelf that carried one of the more vibrant item displays. Her hands shot up as she attempted to shield her fellow moron from the blue prop, shutting her eyes as she stood defiantly. "And Tear! Please don't curse Ruby to be a broccoli princess! It's the worst kind of princess!"

Silence hung in the air for a few short moments, as the tiny fairy and little reaper stared at Recette with utter confusion.

"Broccoli... Princess?" Red blinked, slowly turning her gaze to the blue fairy that floated by the shop counter, nowhere near the two fallen children. Red's voice was hesitant as she slowly backed away, which in itself was mildly entertaining to watch, since the Beacon prodigy made no effort to pick herself off the floor first. "You can do that?"

"I don't-... You just-... What?"

But really, the most amusing thing about the entire event was the fact that Tinkerbell had been caught so flustered, her protests had associated hand gestures. There was just something about watching a prim and proper fairy flail about in the air, shouting broken half-sentences at a brat, that Roman found amusing. Probably all of it, really.

Of course, his amusement fell slightly when said fairy turned her attention to him, but the classy criminal took it into stride. He had expected Recette to bowl over something expensive, so the glare that the floating nightlight shot at him wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been.

"And you! What sort of nonsense have you been telling her?"

Not to say it wasn't still bad. The fairy was about as pissed as he could expect from her, and tear's voice was surprisingly loud for someone so tiny. Partially to put on a show, and partially to ease his growing headache, Roman deliberately brought a hand up to his temple, visibly wincing at her shrill voice. "Oh, don't even start with that."

Of course, Tear wasn't amused.

"Sorry, what was that? I couldn't quite hear you over that incessant buzzing noise. I think a bug got in or something." The crook smiled nonchalantly as he stepped through the shop displays, making no effort to hide his destination as he made his way to the back door. And as expected of the tiny overseer, she tried to stop him in his tracks, an angry stare plastered on her face as she floated up in front of him.

Roman stopped. Not because she actually blocked the way—she was a foot tall, for god's sake—but because he wanted to humour her. That, and she wasn't lashing out as comically as he expected. Besides her initial befuddlement, the fairy's expression had actually shifted to a more serious tone. Raising a single brow, the thief leaned back against one of the shop counters, eyes on the fairy as he waited for her to speak.

"We do not have time for this nonsense." Tear's voice was low as she threw him a glance, before shifting her attention back to the rest of the shop. "Do you understand what position we're in?"

Position? What was she talking about?

"Of course you don't. You've been off gallivanting around town, pursuing whatever it is that catches your fancy while I've been stuck here trying to salvage this mess." Tear flew into Roman's vision again, partially blocking his view as she focused her steely gaze on him. To accentuate her point, the fairy gestured to the shop itself, floating out of the way to allow the thief a clear view of the facility.

And that's when Roman had realized that the place was completely devoid of customers. As well as any semblance of order. Most of the counters were empty, but the few that weren't were filled with meaningless junk or nonsensical trinkets. There was no order to the shop layout, and more than a few display stands had other display stands stacked on top of them. There was even a table that had been suspended in the middle of the room, held by nothing but a single length of rope and, what he assumed, a mixture of wishes and luck.

"What do you suppose a customer's first thoughts are when they walk into this mess?!"

Curious, Roman slowly approached said table, examining it from all sides as he casually poked at it with his cane. His confusion only deepened when the haphazard structure held firm, not shifting in the slightest. "Fairy magic?"

"Merde." As a side note, the sound of a fairy-sized facepalm was an endearing sound. He'd have to record it for his Scroll one of these days. "I had hoped, at the very least, you would've appreciated how precarious our situation was."

"Wait, what?" That little admission was enough to give the thief some pause. There were few things he could think of, besides himself of course, that'd worry the tiny fairy to this degree. "What do you mean by 'precarious'?"

"In case you've forgotten, we were assigned to Miss Lemongrass so that she could repay her family's debts to the Terme Finance company in place of her father." With some of her fairy magic, the tiny woman brought up an oversized clipboard, with the terms of Recette's entire debt plainly displayed on the firm surface. What caught his eye, however, wasn't the document itself, but one particular spot that had been circled and underlined. A date.

Today.

"Is it really...?"

"Yes, Mr. Torchwick. As you can see from the document accepted by both parties, Recette Lemongrass has until the end of today to submit her first payment for her father's debt." Tear's voice was silent as she stared at the suited criminal, before shifting her gaze to the two children. The fairy's face softened a bit when her vision fell on Recette, then fell away entirely when she saw the mortified expression on Red's face. With a heavy sigh, Tear set the clipboard down, before turning to face the Beacon prodigy proper. "And yes, Miss Rose. That was why I was being so... insistent on your behaviour today."

"I... I didn't realize it was that bad." Red's voice was subdued, a far cry from the usual boisterous nature that Roman had come to expect from the little annoyance. "Why didn't you let me? I would've-"

"In all likelihood, Miss Rose, You would've panicked and exacerbated the situation."

Ouch. Even Roman found that a bit harsh. Well, blunt at the very least. Personally, he would've used a much larger vocabulary to explain Red's incompetence. Still, the effects of her words were felt by both fairy and reaper, as the two's expressions grew somber. "I-I mean no offense by that. What I meant to say was that, based on what I've learned from our interactions... it would've influenced your decisions far more negatively if I had informed you of our circumstance."

Red's shoulders sagged, her expression sink further as her gaze fell to the floor, without uttering a single protest. At least she was mature enough to recognize her failings? Not that it was Roman's concern. No, there was something for more pressing that the man needed to find out. The thief's eyes narrowed as he turned his attention back to the document, swiping the clipboard from the counter as he slowly began reading through the document's fine print.

"H-how much does she owe?" The huntress-wannabe squeaked out the question, her voice silent as she turned to face Roman. Or Tear? He couldn't tell from his position, and he was too busy to answer her questions at the moment.

"... Miss Lemongrass must submit a sum of thirty thousand pix for her first payment."

Roman's eyes widened as he heard Tear recount the amount, instantly snapping away from the document as he settled his gaze on the fairy. Wasn't it just ten? But before he could voice his confusion, the fairy turned back to him, her face downcast.

"The change came through three days ago. I had intended to inform you immediately, but Recette had insisted we remained quiet on the issue." He gave the fairy an odd look, brow raised as he stared at her incredulously. It didn't take long for the woman to answer his unspoken question. "... We are merely advisors for her; Recette is the one who ultimately makes the decisions. The only reason I have my duties in the first place was because she agreed to delegate to me."

"Okay... But why exactly did our little merchant girl want to keep this information to herself?" He couldn't even comprehend why she had bothered to hide something so damned important. Didn't she realize how damned important this was for her? His vision shifted to Recette this time, but any irritation he might've had faltered when she saw the simple expression on her face.

"Because I didn't want to worry you."

Her voice was unexpectedly firm. The child said the words with a straight face, not backing away as her wide eyes staredup at Roman, her body betraying no hint of regret. And Roman had no appropriate response. All he could do was to stand in silence and stare back, his worried green eyes fixed on with Recette's resolute brown eyes. "... After being lost for so long, you finally found your friend. I didn't want to worry you two about it."

Lost for so long...?

Roman was the first to look away. Suddenly, that display table seemed far more interesting, and far more sensible than what he had just heard. The crook had so many questions, after all, and absolutely no way to answer them. How much did she know? Why did she think that he and Red were friends—heck, she saw was there when they first met up again, right? And even knowing all that, why did she stay quiet when the eviction was the only thing she'd get out of it?

He didn't even need to ask. Recette continued speaking, her voice falling to a softer tone.

"I know what it was like to be alone. I was alone too, but at least I had somewhere to stay. Tear said you didn't even have that."

He resisted the urge to shoot a glare at the fairy. He didn't know why it was a glare of all things, either. Perhaps he was irritated that she had been running her mouth? Does employee confidentiality mean nothing in this world? Then again, he might've just been angry that she forgot to mention that he was an adult, whereas the brat was twelve year old brat. Different contexts, damnit.

In spite of himself, he couldn't hold onto the irritation for long, as Recette's voice came up again.

"But when you two appeared that day, when you came to look at everything and collect the debt thing... It was the best day of my life." The worst part was, she somehow believed it. Roman could see it in her eyes that she believed every single thing she was spouting. "I know you two were just doing your jobs, and I was a bit scared when Tear mentioned the debt. But when Tear said that you two were going to help me along with it, and when you said that I was stuck with you two..."

There was a pause. Roman turned to face Recette once more, only to find that she had the same stance as she did before, not relenting in the slightest as she continued staring at him.

"I was happy. Because I wasn't alone anymore."

Good for her. And Roman couldn't even frown at that thought; he was legitimately unsure if he was being sarcastic or genuine with it, either, which caused no small amount of turmoil in his mind. He tried to push the thoughts away, tried to drag them into a corner to beat them down, but... Roman stopped. Instead, he slipped into a neutral mask, his face betraying nothing as he stared back at the kid.

"And for weeks, I wasn't alone. Tear helped me turn the old house into the shop, and you helped me put away everything. You even told me how awesome of a name Recettearoman was."

He distinctly remembered something completely different, as his mind flashed back to the memories of him throwing that sign away. He outright helped her make a new one, just so that embarrassment wouldn't grace the light of day. It didn't matter that it had taken the entire day, either.

"But that wasn't all. I wasn't alone, and Tear was happier... But I didn't think you were completely happy. You kept being nice and stuff, and you always helped out Tear and me, but whenever you were by yourself, you always had that look on your face."

Roman slowly digested her words. He didn't know why; they were just parts of a generic sob story, one you could stumble on anywhere. He of all people knew that. Yet, he kept his attention focused on the child, trying not to betray any sort of emotion as he-

"Yeah... That look." Not once throughout this conversation did Recette actually turn away from him. Yet, this was the first time that Roman had noticed the little girl staring directly at him. "It's just like the smiles I used give to people, before I met you two. And... after meeting you two... I didn't need it anymore."

The thief stared at the child. And unlike before, where he could look her in the eye, he had noticed that he couldn't turn away. Still, he held on, clinging to his neutral expression, not even noticing as he gripped his cane a little tighter.

"But... But you still do. So that's why, when you had finally found your friend, I didn't want to worry you about something like this. You and Tear already helped me so much, this was the least I could do."

He had been watching her the entire time. So when had she gotten so close? The merchant kid stood before him, staring up at him with wide-eyed conviction, with that damned bleeding idealism that seemed to plague all brats everywhere. And he could do nothing but stare back.

"Even if I couldn't pay my dad's debt, I wanted you all to know how thankful I was for meeting you. How thankful I was that you all helped me. That's why I didn't want Tear to tell you, to interrupt you two."

Something soft wrapped around his waist. Something tiny buried itself against his stomach. And no amount of mental justifications or halfhearted rationalizations could change the fact that Recette Lemongrass had just hugged Roman Torchwick.

"Because I wanted to pay you back. For everything you've done for me."

Torchwick dropped his cane. What other reaction was he supposed to have? This feeling was completely new to him. When was the last time anyone had been... thankful for his actions? And try as he might, he could not dismiss it. Because, no matter what else he may tell himself, this feeling wasn't new to him. There was a time, one that he had hoped to forget, where it had actually been... familiar to him.

And just as intimate as that feeling was, one other sensation lingered in his chest. One inexorably tied to feelings of gratitude and thankfulness and whatever else he had once pushed out of his mind.

Guilt.

He wanted to forget it. He needed to forget it. The man wrenched his attention away from the kid, turning to the fairy who had been floating silent for so damn long. Torchwick didn't trust himself to speak yet, instead pointing to the clipboard that had laid forgotten and discarded. Tinkerbell wore a blank look for a moment, but soon realized what he was asking of her, and eventually floated the clipboard over to him.

He glanced at the document once more, staring at the amount that had already been repaid, and the amount that remained. His eyes shifted down to the kid who was still attached to his waist, a stupid idiotic brat who was completely content with how things had turned out. Roman closed his eyes, completely silent as he took in a single, deep breath.

And then, the criminal returned the clipboard, the item a bit heavier than it was before as he set it down on the counter-top, with a single leather pouch propped prominently on the collection form. For some reason, the ignorant little child before him had honestly thought he had done something worthy of thanks. And just like a distant little memory, she had been dead set on throwing her life away to fulfill that misunderstanding.

Don't read into his actions too much. Roman Torchwick was many things, sure, but he was also a businessman.

All he was doing was making sure that this little transaction, this little debt she had deluded herself into fulfilling, had been legitimate.