A lot of people never gave Juri credit for her ability to work with others. She damn well knew how. She just didn't do it often. She did it now and she did it fucking well. She had called Chun-Li who had called a handful of other people, including Cammy and this burly military guy, all of whom Juri recalled meeting before. Together they had been involved in raiding the prison, busting the kidnappers, helping stranded dock workers, and saving Ken.
Watching Chun-Li putter around while they all gathered in collective fear for the safety of certain someone was interesting during the aftermath. Was this what having friends was like? A collection of individuals answering your beck-and-call? Swarming around you? Fussing about your well-being?
What would that make a certain someone to Juri?
Fascinating as it was distracting. Distracting from thoughts of Ken. Since the admission of his unlawful arrest, he had taken a sizeable spot in Juri's mind. Poor Kend-well no, just Ken this time. Poor Ken seeking comfort in Juri. Bloodied and bruised. Something light filled her when she found him alive. It came again when he shoved his head down her tits.
Soothed by her.
Why her?
Why did she feel it?
Evidently, it was why she didn't kill the ringleaders, no matter how much she'd love to. She beat them black and blue until Cammy stepped in so she could detain them. Juri let her have that.
Back at the abode, she picked the lock to the restraints and uncuffed Ken before dragging him to the bathroom. There, she managed to get the worst of the blood away with lots of wet paper towels; most of it was his. Upon further checking, the blood in his hair was not. He had probably done one hell of a number on that bastard police chief with the bubble gum, given his broken nose.
Torn skin formed furiously red rings around Ken's wrists, probably from the cuffs. Growing more conscious, Ken rubbed the wounds, deep in thought about something or another, then shook his for a split second before he grimaced in pain. Concussion, alright.
"Take a shower," Juri ordered and stepped out of the bathroom as Ken took off his shirt. She headed for the common room and the kitchen sink, her hands tacky and sticky with blood. Hopefully, he'd remember to take the painkillers in the medicine cabinet. He had to; his favorite toy, the med kit was in there.
"How is he?" Chun-Li asked from the kitchen table, hands folded in her lap.
"He'll live. Got beaten badly," Juri answered without looking at her. Or at any of the other people gathered in the common room. She could almost feel the wave of collective relief waft into the room like ribbons of sunlight – with an undercurrent of apprehension.
"You don't say," the silverback gorilla with American flags tattooed on his shoulders scoffed with a scowl. One of many really.
Sixty seconds later, sounds came from the bathroom and Ken stood in the room with the others. He looked less disastrous without blood stuck to his face but still terrible with the bruises, the welts, the burn marks from tasers, and the goose egg forming at the side of his head, all signs of what he had survived. His hair had grown longer according to Cammy as she looked up and down.
"I almost didn't recognize you when you used to that topknot," she smiled at him, a bit inane like that sorry excuse for a conversation starter.
Suppose it was better than to discuss why and how Ken ended up being almost beaten to death. He met her warmth, letting out a shuddering breath through his nose. He remained where he stood, leaning against the wall with the shoulder that didn't hurt. Not broken or dislocated, probably just sprained from a few bad landings.
"It was a fun experiment. Wanted to see if I could grow it long again before I got sick of it."
Juri remembered that. Remembered how odd it looked. It was a thought that lasted for a second and then she forgot about it as she forgot about him. But when she looked at Ken now, she would have to agree that he could use a trim. Still, the biggest reason why Juri suddenly decided to aid Ken with his grooming was because she didn't want to feel indebted to him. It was her personal pride, her independence. And he only had one functional arm.
So when Miss Ex-Interpol and her band of merry flies buzzed off for some rest, knowing that no one would die on their watch, the occupants in the abode headed to the bathroom. Ken sat on a stool with Juri behind him, snipping the longer strands of his hair until it resembled what she remembered it to be.
Prominent black roots notwithstanding. She liked the color though; dark and rich like obsidian. It reminded her of herself. It made her wonder what he'd look like without the blonde.
"You're not bad at this," Ken said softly, wearily from the sounds of it. It was a few hours until sunset of course. "I used to dye it myself but couldn't cut it for the life of me, so it became super long until Eliza did."
"I bet she did," Juri answered without interest while she worked. A certain box of blonde hair dye lay in the cabinet, which she took and applied to what remained of Ken's hair. Once the required time has passed, he washed the color out in the sink, washed the dye into the drain, and stood up to look in the mirror.
"I like it. Thank you," Ken said in wonderment, running a hand through it with something that looked like a smile.
Juri rolled her shoulders into a shrug. Her words came out intentionally flat while she whisked ends of hair off his shoulders. "Good for you. Next time, pay me."
"You offered to help though," Ken ruffled the top of his head, on top of where roots of black once were. He didn't react to the transparent annoyance she glared at him with other than a tired laugh.
"I'll repay the favor sometime. Think your pink is much easier since it's just streaks," he said roguishly while he gathered the clippings. He staggered, more pronounced as he dumped it all in a nearby wastebin. Juri stood right next to him and wondered if – braced herself for the possibility that – he'd lunge himself against her chest again.
He'd still have his face nestled against her breasts but only because his legs collapsed underneath him, and she had caught him before he smacked his stupid, heroic head against the tile floor.
In the time that Ken took to recover, the abode became invaded by his designated friends. They fluttered around like annoying flies as if he was dying. Before they found him, he probably was. And while they were here, the abode began to feel small, overcrowded, restrictive. Maybe it was the weight of the people present subtly pushing Juri out; a reminder that she and what she represented were not welcome.
She kept to herself outside most of the time, not enthused by the accusing stares and frigid, fearful bouts of silence from General Silverback Gorilla. The efforts from Not-Doll and Not-Interpol to lessen it were futile. But Juri's absence must have been felt as much as her presence was appreciated by the man it all came down to.
Ken settled quietly in such a peaceful way around Juri, which she hadn't experienced since her adolescence. For someone so opposite to her in every way, it showed an endearing, shocking level of trust that he was outright happy to see her, ignorant of the one person who was not.
It was almost touching. It was mind-numbingly surprising. It was…nice. Really.
Juri found herself doing more favors for Ken because of that. When no one was looking, she'd slip in a box of hair dye into the bathroom cabinet or fresh whatever-went-well-with-corzetti into the fridge when he got the bright idea to cook. And with each hour, each minute, each second, Ken took a sizable, prominent spot in her mind palace, just sitting there and existing. Looking at her, smiling. Unharmed. Full and clean. Waiting for her. Waiting for Juri.
Waiting for what exactly? What did she want him to wait for?
"She did what? No, honey. That can't be true," the voice of the burly, military guy cut through her musings like a blade. It was one of those days where the abode was mercifully quiet and more importantly, empty. It was Juri, Ken…and the military man.
What was his name again? Gale? Gill? Gorilla because he had the broadness of one?
"Fuck-I mean crap. What am I supposed to tell him?" he sighed, frustrations abound. Juri spotted him pacing around in the common room with a phone to his ear before he slipped into the kitchen.
The man paused, then spoke again. "Okay…I guess that's all I can do. Thanks, honey. Love you."
He hung up and the weight of his heavy boots trod across the wooden floor with booming steps that caused Juri to scurry into the bathroom. The footsteps stopped right outside the door, but he wasn't talking to her.
"You awake? I need to talk with you. You might want to sit down for this."
There were sounds of groaning, probably because Ken's concussion was acting up. So, it took a while before he moved about like a shadow, quiet and floating until they reached the common room. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor summoned Juri like a bell. She stopped right by the end of the hallway, poked her head out, and spotted the two men sitting at the table. In front of each other. Looking at each other.
Looking like they didn't want to be there.
"It's about Eliza. She…" the military man said into the anticipating silence. His eyes darted to the tabletop for a moment. Filled with guilt. Burdened with esotericism, he forced himself to continue. "She has filed for and been granted a divorce by default."
The words hung in the air, begging, screaming for acknowledgment. Juri felt their plight, her gaze focusing exclusively on Ken. Watching how the truth, the reality, the inevitable set in under the deepest, most vulnerable layer of his soul.
"…Right. I don't blame her for that. I understand why," he submitted to the callous truth. Willing to suffer a thousand internal indignities if it meant keeping face.
It fascinated Juri for reasons other than amusement. She wasn't at the point where she could identify them. It horrified the military man for transparent reasons however, edged into the single word that fell from his lips.
"What?"
"I-I was prepared for it to happen. She deserves happiness as much as I deserve the truth," Ken said those words impossibly, inhumanly, insincerely calm, quite aware that it spelled the end of his motivation.
"So that's it? You're not gonna fight for it?" the military man raised his voice like he didn't know he was making a grave mistake, stepping on raw ground. Did he know nothing? What did he even want? "You run away, and you don't care that your wife, the mother of your son, left you?! They are your family!"
The challenge of an argument, Ken met. His placidness snapped like a twig, and he sprung from his chair, wincing at the reactionary pain rippling through his skull.
"I left to protect them, William. Do you think it's fair if I drag them down this hellhole? If they were the ones kidnapped and almost beaten to death? If they had to live like I do? Everything I've done, I've done it for them. All so Eliza wouldn't lose her husband to injustice. And Mel wouldn't have to see his dad paraded down the street like a criminal. They deserve a father and a husband but I can't give them either as long as the truth isn't out there."
Rarely did Ken express raw anger even if he seemed like the type of person who'd explode like the hothead, Juri remembered him as. But his words came out as a low, furious growl. A warning for the military man to watch where he stepped. A warning that he did not heed.
"What about her?" he asked instead, similarly displeased.
Who?
"Seth's underling."
Oh.
A little insulting to be referred to as Seth's underling but Juri couldn't blame him for not keeping up with her extensive rap sheet.
"She stuck around by her own volition. She has her own agenda," Ken cooled down a notch. "It just happens to coincide with mine. When this is over, we'll go our separate ways."
"She's living with you, Ken. You two seem eerily close. Don't think I didn't notice how you went for her after we found you."
Yeah, there was a part of Juri that could see how the optics appeared to those observant and wanting answers. Especially answers that were far more sensational than the boring truth. And Ken was, by all honesty, a distraction. There was some minor level of attachment there due to the fact that he fed and housed her. He treated her like she wasn't an adversary.
He also tended to her wounds. Scratch that, they tended to each other. A symbiotic relationship of the strangest yet temporary kind for the simple and unshakable truth that Juri was not domestic, and Ken didn't try to tame her. He just accepted her being there. But then again, she never gave him her word. The pieces of their coexistence just fell into place, and so did the affection that came from it. Some people liked that.
Juri though…
It didn't change the fact that she just wanted entertainment for her own selfishness. Without a goal in mind, it was the best she could do. Now whether or not she also liked Ken and would like to see his corruption reversed was immaterial. It was as he said when this ended.
They'd go their separate ways.
Potentially however, there was part of Juri that would like to see his light at the end of this tunnel, just to see what that glow was like. She was woman enough to admit that. However this experiment would end, she'd at least have something to do.
Ken breathed long and hard through his nose, his entire chest heaving with each inhale. "Because I got a drubbing so fierce, I could barely tell my head from my asshole. What, would you rather have it be you?"
"No," William answered like he didn't know what a rhetorical question was.
"Good. Me neither," Ken answered equally caustic. "And before you open your big, fat self-righteous mouth again, need I remind you that I didn't choose this life. If it was up to me, I'd be with my family, not here getting beaten up by clowns and police officers."
The military man scoffed. "…I guess that concussion knocked the fidelity out of you."
Ken's entire body stiffened. It hardened like a piece of wood until he walked around the table and stopped in front of the shit messenger of bad news, looming over him until the other man rose, literally and metaphorically, to the provocation. Ken's fists gathered into balls, almost shaking with the urge to punch something or someone.
"Concussed or not, I'm not in the mood for your shit, Guile. I love Eliza with every fiber of my being, but I don't need you to believe me. You can either stick around and help me get back to her or put a cork in it and fuck off. Choice is yours."
In the middle of his rebuttal, the door to the abode clicked open to reveal the face of Chun-Li. She walked in on the fuck off and the bite of those words stunned her momentarily before the pacifistic side of her kicked in and she wedged two arms between the men.
"You two, this is not the time for that. Knock it off!" At least she was astute enough to not pick a side.
The fight ended before it began and Juri's shoulders slumped in…something that was supposed to be disappointment but felt much different. Ken's lips thinned as he walked past Guile and purposely bumped into the man's shoulder on the way. That earned him a glare he promptly ignored.
"Spoiled, selfish, two-timing brat," Guile spat and Ken didn't have nice things to say about him either.
"Ignorant, hypocrite, gossiping asshole."
He had entered the foyer and reached for his jacket when it occurred to Chun-Li what he was doing. She stepped forward, raising her hands like she wanted to restrict him from going through the door he flung open.
"Where are you going? You're still hurt," she pleaded.
"Work," and the door was slammed shut, swallowing Ken in its maw.
That went about as well as expected.
Silence stilled them, booming and deafening from the quiet echo of the door being closed in anger. Like frozen statues, Chun-Li and Guile stared at the empty afterimage of what had occurred. Like they were afraid time would catch up to them if they moved. It was a common defense tactic, Juri reckoned; the general avoidance of acknowledging reality.
"Wow, what friends you are. Providing a spectacle. Where's the popcorn when you need it?" she piped up, now leaning against the wall.
Time began moving again and Guile spun around to face her. His face was always locked in a slight scowl to the point where smiling would come unnaturally to him. He blinked fast as though he had been struck, then let the residual anger seep in. His footsteps were thunderous while he charged at her. To any normal person, the sight, the threat of danger, would be terrifying. A man standing a whole head taller than them with eyes piercing like the sharpest of blades. To all but Juri it would be as if their life was about to end.
"I don't know what your agenda is or why you are here but you better not be planning something or I will make you regret it for the rest of your miserable life," he stood inches away from her face, pressing her up against the wall to tell her that he wasn't playing around. "Don't pull Ken down to your level. He's married, he got a family, and he doesn't need the likes of you to screw his life any further."
No amount of spittle came flying from his mouth. Impressive. But intimidating Juri was as plausible as jumping off a skyscraper and surviving. He regarded her for a moment, trying to gauge her fear, her discomfort. She gave him nothing but a mocking grin and a derisive giggle. And for that, she got the honor of watching his expression waver.
"Oh please. I don't care about him or his stupid feelings or his dick. I'm just here to watch him crumble for fun. Get a life, why don't you, and stop fantasizing about infidelity, you miserable cuck. He's divorced now anyway so why do you care? You wanna fuck someone other than your wife? Me, perhaps? Too bad I don't have patience for gorillas with a broom up their asses."
He could not bully her; the intense stare made that very clear. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, assured in her position. Curious about his next move.
A play that would never come courtesy of Chun-Li having to wedge her arms between them yet again, glaring at Juri. "Enough! At least pretend to not have a tongue like a cat's penis!"
"Oh, I'm sorry for not knowing that I'm the only one who can't act like a prick. Yet, Captain Cuck over here can do whatever he wants even when he doesn't understand anything and felt the need to tell our poor mental case hero that his wife left him and pin it on him. Really swell," Juri chided like an actor in a play. In reality, there was something, a modicum of acidity poking about from within, moving around of its own accord and making her words extra corrosive.
Guile's expression dropped, stunned, shocked. His blue eyes lingered on her as Chun-Li's lingered on him. It could probably be the third argument for the day but it would just be two against one and Ken had left before he was fully recovered anyway. Juri let them have their circle jerk, sauntering right past them for she would have to look for the missing fake blonde.
Juri found Ken on the rooftop of the very same building they were occupying. He lived on the second floor of a five-story building with a staircase that led directly to the roof. Up here, one could get a good gander at how miserably dull the city and subsequently, the weather looked. Formless pale gray stretched over the sky like a thick fog and it was a little cold to the skin. A little chillier with the higher altitude.
"No work?" Juri looked at the discarded jacket that lay discorded across the concrete a few feet away from where Ken sat by the edge of the building. Her question was meant in jest but he wasn't noticing it or he didn't care.
Instead of looking at her, he just stared blankly at his feet with slow blinks. The dark hairs on his arm stood on end. "I realized after I cooled down that going there while still hurt wasn't the best idea."
Juri hummed in acknowledgment and took a seat next to him. By seat, she squatted on the ledge of the roof. Her balance was fine so she wouldn't fall over. When she looked at Ken, she noted how much of a wreck he appeared to be. It was from his healing injuries. This time it was more ethereal. Wrought with brittle emotional stability.
"I heard the whole thing. With your wife and all," she broke the silence.
"Oh yeah? Why aren't you laughing? It's funny, right? You get a front-row seat to my life falling apart. The Ruination of Ken Masters. Rated T for tragicomical," he uttered the title of his hypothetical autobiography with a wry laugh that sounded horribly artificial.
An urge tingled Juri's fingers but she kept them locked around her knees and kept looking at him. Every part of Ken looked diminished forthwith. Frayed and lopsided to abject gloom instead of standing in the middle between hope and despair. More battered and unhappy than Juri had ever seen him before. He hadn't been weeping but his eyes seemed sunken in.
The look of a broken man.
So she should be happy. It was her goal after all; to see him wither and take joy in The Ruination of Ken Masters. Against all odds however, her heart of hearts remained incredulous at the suggestion that she had any right to feel good about it. Because she didn't, something that shocked even her. Yet her heart of hearts was stubborn in the way it balked at her sources of amusement.
"Yeah well, I think it is kinda funny," Juri said flatly. Funny in that facetious, uncomfortable way that made people laugh at funerals as a coping mechanism. "You do fucking summersaults for a wife who thanks your hard work with a divorce. The irony is theatrical."
It was just as likely that Eliza didn't want to wait for Ken's name to be cleared – if she actually thought he was innocent. Something about believing the thing you'd be told over and over again.
"I bet it is," Ken mumbled after a long, miserable pause. And another followed directly after.
Juri snorted into the silence, easing herself to sit on the ledge directly so she could stretch her legs. "I do also think that Captain Cuck of the Bad Friends Brigade really screwed you over."
This time when Ken laughed, it was genuine.
"I don't think he had a choice, being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Would it be better to let me know now so I wouldn't get my hopes up or wait until I'd go home and tell me as I'd find Eliza and Mel gone? It's the lesser of two evils."
Sure, and that made sense but why turn it into an argument? Why push this stinging defeat to a dick-measuring context of equally painful proportions? Why this much hurt? Seemed like a waste of time, goodwill, and energy.
Unconvinced, Juri scoffed her question. "Does not he understand or care why you're here?"
"I assume he does but I think he also just got fed with how much he doesn't like me. Do you?" and this time, Ken looked at her.
The childlike innocence of his question did not detract from the staggering ignorance. He knew damn well what her position was. But the wavering of such reasoning made Juri freeze momentarily from the shock of it.
"This isn't about me, Kendall."
"Sorry," he uttered like he was overcome with a strange impulse to apologize. Suppose it was just a common side effect of dealing with the likes of Guile and a crumbling marriage today, a wish for not being at odds with someone for once. The pain still loomed in the air as he changed subjects completely. "What happened at the prison by the way? I mean, I don't remember much after sunset."
"Because you were busy laying on the floor like a dying gefilte fish," but not literally dead and that admission in itself filled Juri with something poignant. So did Ken's weary, honest laugh at that description.
"But anyway. I swooped in with my motorbike, kicked their asses, and…" Juri continued, skipping past that part where her Feng Shui Engine had broken a few collarbones, limbs, and jaws. Skipping past the part where she had almost killed one of the cop underlings until she was stopped by Cammy. It would be her secret to bear. "Chun-Li and Cammy joined, then Captain Cuck."
"Please don't make a habit of calling Guile that," Ken raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, sliding upwards until he palmed the fringes of his bangs and swept them back before they fell back into place. A cut by his hairline looked like it would turn into a scar.
Looking away from the sight, Juri shrugged. "I won't if he stops being an asshole. Anyway, we managed to capture three of the vermin but the guy with the dreads managed to escape. Apparently, he's the second of command in Mad Gear. He's been that for almost every version of their revival but that might change since there's some kind of internal power struggle going on right now."
Ken breathed out long and hard, in relief. "Right. Their internal squabbles aside, we have the others so they should provide us with some clues."
At last, he looked Juri in the eyes and spent the ensuing silence focused on her. He wasn't smiling when he said; "Thanks a lot. I mean it. You're really nice."
Hearing those words uttered at her felt a whole lot like getting sucker punched. Unexpected, unforeseen, merciless. Her breathing stuttered and she found herself flinching. She sat stunned picking up on us long after it was uttered. This was her journey too it seemed.
"…I'm just parroting information."
"You saved my life too," Ken said pointedly. Without blame. Without sarcasm. Just affinity born from hard, cold facts to be written on her rap sheet of good actions. "You didn't have to."
"Action and entertainment. That's the name of the game. I need you to be my bloodhound and throw more fun my way," Juri did what she was best at before she felt the flush creep upper her neck. "Besides if the others heard what you just said, they'd laugh in your face."
"Chun-Li and Cammy mentioned in passing how they saw the good in you. I do too."
But not Guile. This stabilized her. Although he didn't like Ken either so that was another coin in the familiarity box and they could probably hate him together. Ignorant of what he just implied, Ken stood up, spun around, and reached out his hand.
"A handshake. For friendship."
"Are you serious? You sound so syrupy, it's giving me diabetes," Juri narrowed her eyes and frowned at Ken's patient sincerity. It was like the mere suggestion of affinity was as alien as Kurdish to her.
"Consider it insulin-spiking solidarity."
"Fine, whatever, fuck you. I'll shake your hand," a woman of her word, she did exactly just that.
The Palm of Ken Masters was warm and steady. Firm in its grip. Honest like the man it belonged to. For a few seconds, while it lasted, it was entirely possible for Juri to feel on the inside without shame.
So now Ken is actually single! Yay!
And for the uninitiated; a divorce by default or default divorce for short is a divorce that a judge grants to one spouse without the other spouse's involvement.
There's a bunch of hoopla regarding conditions, wait times, and whatnot but I streamlined it because, and let's be real here, a judge would probably be more than willing to quickly relieve you of the burden that comes with being married to someone labeled a terrorist.
Don't worry, the divorce thing will play a large role later.