Wow. After nearly six months of griping at myself for a lack of motivation as "real" life started kicking my ass, I can finally say that this tale is in the bag and complete!
Thank you for your patience!
Onward~!
Several weeks after the somewhat disastrous talk with Yuri, King stood in front of her bed in the guest room, a couple of small piles of books, Blu-ray movies, and a cardboard box in front of her. Although still a bit overwhelmed by her feelings of guilt over what happened with the young woman (as well as all the things she had done under Big's employ), she decided that the best course of action was to try to put it all out of her mind and move on with her life… which was really the only thing that she could do, anyway. Part of moving on included canceling her gym membership in favour of going for jogs and — against Maddy and Gary's wishes — setting up a standing punching bag in the backyard that she had put through hell in the short time she owned it, as well as starting to hunt for an apartment in the city, as she finally had enough funds saved up to live on her own again. Despite how frustrated and distracted she had been, she found a two-bedroom place in a nice neighborhood downtown that was quite large and within walking distance of the bar. Of course, that meant she would have to take on the headaches of moving, furniture shopping, and decorating, but they were all necessary evils.
Necessary evils that would — hopefully — shift her focus entirely away from the what-if scenarios and feelings of remorse that liked to surface at random intervals now more than ever…
Sighing, the bartender picked up her battered copy of The Divine Comedy and made a face as she idly flipped through the pages, stopping when she reached Canto XXX, which covered the Eighth Circle of Hell: Fraud.
"Falsificateurs de personnes," she murmured as she skimmed the passages.
Just then, a light tapping on the door behind her brought her back from the precipice of what would have probably been a melancholic thought process about how, if hell were even real, she would probably belong in Bolgia 10.
"Céc?"
The voice of King's little brother, Jean, prompted her to close her book and quickly place it in the box. She turned just as the boy cautiously pushed the cracked door all the way open.
"What's up, kiddo?"
King flashed a warm smile that instantly faded when she saw the look on her sibling's face. There was a pause as he gingerly maneuvered through the area, lowered himself onto the foot of the bed, and placed his arm crutches aside with a soft sniffle.
"I don't want you to go…!"
"Oh, Jean," King intoned softly, her heart splintering. She moved the cardboard container aside, sat beside her brother, and put an arm around him, pulling him close with a light squeeze.
"I know you want me to stay, but my being here was only temporary until I got back on my feet," she told him.
"But —!"
"But I'm still here until the end of the month, and I promise I'll come visit you lots. Just like before. And you can visit me, too."
"How do I know you're not lying?"
At that, King frowned. She couldn't hold Jean's apprehension against him because the revelation that she had been on the wrong side of the law (and was, of course, lying about it) strained her relationship with him to the point where, for a brief period, he wouldn't even look at her. The two were working to repair the rift, but he still deeply distrusted almost anything she said.
"That's not something I would be dishonest about," she answered quietly.
Jean looked King over before tilting his head slightly (God, he looked so much like their mother when he did that…!) and squinting his eyes.
"Pinky promise," he told her simply while holding up his little finger.
"Done," King quickly said while hooking her pinky finger around his. She grinned at the boy, who was still watching her with a sad expression.
"I know I've already said this," he started slowly, "but you've been weird lately…."
"I know, and I'm sorry," King responded. "It's just… as I've already said… grownup stuff."
"Like what, though?"
"Like stuff you don't need to know about."
"But —"
"No 'buts.' It's not for you," King sternly dictated.
"So it's about the Big Bad."
The Frenchwoman said nothing as she removed her arm from Jean's shoulders and peered elsewhere.
"It's… There's still a lot to deal with. Not just legally, or here at 'home' but —" King tapped her temple with her index finger — "in here. And… some of it is… hard to come to terms with."
"In your head?" Jean quirked a brow. "That makes you sound kinda crazy, Céc."
"Maybe the eval was wrong and I am."
Jean made a face.
"Are you sure you can't tell me a little?"
"Well, I can… But I won't."
"Party pooper."
There was a lull as King looked at the carpeted floor, thoughtful. Jean didn't know any specifics about her job in the Syndicate and all that it entailed, which was how she wanted to keep it, lest he see her as some kind of monster. However, he wasn't exactly one for dropping subjects; it was only a matter of time (which, in this case, would be around two minutes at best) before it would come up again. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes.
"There's just been a lot on my mind," she admitted. "That's all."
"About the Big Bad."
King remained silent as she opened her eyes and fixed her eyes downward again.
"Why don't you ever wanna talk about it?" Jean queried suddenly.
"Because."
"Was it really that bad?"
"...Maybe," King answered while shifting her gaze to her hands.
"Did you… did you kill anyone?"
King jumped and did a double take as she faced Jean. The boy's gaze was directly on her, his features almost nervous (but also very intense).
"No! Of course not," the bartender exclaimed. "I don't think I could ever…!"
"But…?" Jean prodded, visibly relieved.
"But I still did some terrible things that I regret, and — I really shouldn't be talking about this with you."
"Why? Because I'm a kid?"
"Well, that's one reason, yes," King answered.
"I may be a kid, but I'm also your brother, and I'm not gonna leave you alone about it. Besides, you promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore, anyway."
"Leaving out the gory details isn't lying, though."
"Céc," Jean said flatly.
"Jean," King replied, her tone matching his.
The bartender stood up so she could resume packing while Jean remained seated on the bed. She then glanced at him and hung her head.
"I did a lot of bad things," she slowly began. "But I think… the worst one wasn't about what I did. It's about what I didn't do."
"What do you mean…?"
"Someone needed my help, but… I didn't help them. Just… didn't do the right thing. Big surprise, huh?"
"Nope."
At that, King made a face at Jean, who was still watching her intently.
"What?" He asked before adding, "It's true."
"Anyway," King said loudly before going on. "I actually saw that person again —"
"So that's why you quit the gym."
"I really can't get anything past you, can I?"
Jean responded with a broad smile.
"In all seriousness, it just got me thinking about everything again, and I know that I need to put it behind me, and I'm trying, but —" King swallowed hard — "it's hard because I have to live with the things that I did. Or, in this case, didn't do."
"Didn't you try to make up for it, though? When you went to the cops?"
"Yes, but that will never undo all the damage I've done."
The siblings again fell quiet as King continued packing her books and movies. She peered at the clock, then turned her attention to Jean once more.
"I need to start getting ready for work," she told him with a wan smile. "But I need you to do something very important."
"...what?"
"I need you to make sure that you grow up to be nothing like me."
###
It was a little later when King stood behind the counter at the bar, staring off into space as she polished a wine glass. She kept thinking back to her earlier conversation with Jean, specifically when he told her he wasn't surprised that she hadn't done the right thing in regards to helping Yuri all that time ago. She wished more than ever that she could go back and change everything — make it so that she had never gotten the bright idea to even crossdress in the first place — but such thinking wasn't going to do any good. Unfortunately, she couldn't keep her mind from giving her a play-by-play of every stupid decision she made or terrible crime she committed while working for Big.
"Hey, Céc?"
The voice of King's boss — an older man named Nick who, thankfully, didn't ask too many questions — snapped her out of her thoughts. She hummed as she looked over at him.
"Why don't you take a few minutes to yourself? Step outside, get some air."
The bartender made a face as she continued scrubbing the drinkware in her hands.
"I've only been here for an hour," she replied with a slight grimace.
"Well, yeah, but the fact that you've been polishing the same cup for the last forty minutes tells me you need to clear your head a little. Now, give me those —" Nick walked over and gently took the glass and rag from King's hands — "and maybe go to the bodega and grab a candy bar or something."
"...Yeah. I'll do that…"
Slowly, King walked out from behind the counter and left the building. She kept her head down as she strolled down the sidewalk while trying to, as Nick suggested, clear her head, but it wasn't working.
Not entirely, anyway.
By the time the Frenchwoman reached the small corner store, her thoughts were a bit more in order, as thinking about what she would get to help herself feel better had begun to take precedence over brooding about the past. Once inside, she nodded toward the clerk behind the counter, then made a beeline to the small aisle with assorted snacks. Without hesitation, she grabbed two giant-sized 3 Musketeers bars and a bag of chips, then made her way to the refrigerator in the back of the area to browse the rows of bottled and canned drinks that weren't available at the bar, almost paralyzed by choice. Brow furrowed, King finally chose an energy drink (a borderline Satanic, vanilla-flavoured Starbucks DoubleShot), hoping it would help keep her more alert for the rest of her shift, any caffeine jitters be damned. Quickly, the bartender paid for her items, bid the cashier farewell, and stepped back outside. She paused momentarily to open her drink, which she casually sipped as she started back toward the bar. However, she was suddenly met with a strange, uncomfortable sensation in her gut.
…was someone following her?
The bartender glanced over her shoulder to scan the people behind her, who were perfectly unremarkable and involved with their own lives, briskly moving from point A to point B. With a shake of her head, she scolded herself for being silly and resumed walking, though the odd feeling never disappeared. Once in front of the bar, she stopped outside the entrance and started chugging the rest of her beverage since she wasn't sure if she would have an opportunity to finish it when she got inside.
"Ummm… Those are hella bad for you."
The somewhat familiar voice stopped King in her tracks and caused her to speedily whirl around, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of one Yuri Sakazaki standing before her. There was a very long, very awkward pause as the two women stared at each other. Finally, the younger of the two averted her eyes and simply said, "Hi."
"...Hi," came King's mystified greeting. She pressed her lips in a thin line while carefully watching Yuri, who was fidgeting with her long braid, her discomfort clear as day. There was another stretch of silence before King spoke up.
"How did you know where to find me? …Because that's kind of creepy."
At that, Yuri made a face. She then shifted her weight and cleared her throat.
"I, uhhh… I saw you in the store… so I followed you," she answered.
"Why?"
"Because… I kinda… See, I've been thinking, and now I have something to say. About the whole… thing. But you stopped going to the gym so I couldn't find you and tell you."
"And now here we are…"
"Yeah, and… like I said… something to say."
"And what would that be?" King queried.
"Well. I kinda feel like maybe I wasn't fair to you back there," Yuri began. "If you were really a bad person you wouldn't have bothered trying to apologize to me — even if it might have been for selfish reasons or something. I mean… like… you still tried, and you didn't have to do that."
King briefly pressed her lips together again while observing Yuri, who was still playing with her braid.
"But why the change of heart?" She inquired. "Because I can't say that I understand…"
"Because… I asked my brother and Robbie about you again, and they told me a little more about how you gave them everything they needed to find me. I asked my dad about you, too, and he said you always kept to yourself, and that he could tell that you didn't really wanna be there."
King's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything.
"And, I mean… There were those dudes, too," Yuri continued. "You coulda just let them do… whatever, but you didn't; you protected me. And… I… appreciate that."
"Don't mention it…"
There was another stilted lull as Yuri kicked at a few pebbles on the ground. Meanwhile, King, who was still holding the empty DoubleShot can in her hand, was at a complete loss as to what to say next. Hell, what could she say? She thought back to what Mary told her about making peace with the situation and let out a quiet sigh. She had played a part in traumatizing this poor girl, and not a single word from her mouth would ever change or fix that, regardless of how remorseful she was.
"So why did you do it?"
"Because women should look out for other women," King slowly responded.
"I'm not talking about the guys," Yuri said. "I'm talking about working for that bald creep, period. Because it's obvious that, like… besides being a woman… you're not like those others. So… why?"
The bartender tightened her grip on the can she was holding (the cheap aluminum began to cave in slightly) while thinking carefully. This was her chance to come clean — about everything — but, all at once, the desire to be completely forthcoming with this girl went out the window. She didn't know what it was, but she concluded that keeping some semblance of anonymity was probably the best course of action.
"That's… it's kind of personal."
"I get that, I guess. But, maybe… try not to… I dunno… hang around weirdos? There are plenty of other things you can do that don't involve kidnapping people."
"I'm working on it," King replied with a grimace while slightly tilting her head toward the establishment behind her.
"Oh, cool," Yuri responded as her dark eyes momentarily flicked toward the bar. "Well, I guess good luck with that."
"Merci," King told her. She silently moved out of the way as a group of men entered the bar, talking and laughing with each other.
"I should go back inside," the Frenchwoman said. "My boss is probably wondering where I am, and — not to sound rude — but… I really don't see this conversation going anywhere else, anyway."
"Yeah, you're right."
"For what it's worth, I really am sorry about what happened to you, and about my involvement. I know it's something that can't be forgiven — and I wouldn't expect you to in the first place, but… I hope you'll at least accept my apology."
"Well, it wasn't okay… and I can't forgive you… but I do appreciate the apology," Yuri stated. Thoughtful, she finally stopped playing with her hair and placed her hands behind her as she started to walk backward, away from King.
"I guess this is goodbye," she said with a slight frown.
"Indeed…"
"Well, uhhh… have a nice life?"
"You as well," King remarked. "Adieu…"
And, with that, Yuri about faced and began strolling away. King watched as she moved through the busy street with a slight bounce in her step until she was out of sight. The bartender pressed her lips together as she stood, relief washing over her. Never in a million years did she think that Yuri would ever seek her out, and yet, it had just happened, and she had even accepted her apology, which she was definitely glad about. With a slight shake of her head, she pivoted and reentered the bar, where Nick offered her a broad smile.
"All better?" He asked.
King nodded as she placed her can in a recycling bin behind the counter. She then fished one of her candy bars out of the plastic bag around her wrist before handing the other to her boss and disposing of the thin sack.
"Much," she replied while beginning to meticulously unwrap her chocolate bar. She understood — and was at peace with — Yuri's inability to forgive her, as at least she didn't completely despise her for her inaction, which, although of no real concern to her (she had never cared about being liked and was likely never going to see the girl or her family again…), was more than she could have asked for.
Maybe things weren't so pointless after all.
Kind of a bittersweet note here, but we know how King and Yuri end up in the future so there's that :D
Anyway, let's get to the notes:
* The Divine Comedy, which was written by Dante Alighieri, is a work about his journey through the afterlife. King has been seen reading this story before and has some pretty strong feelings about the 8th Circle of Hell, which is made up of falsifiers, or those who would try to pass off false things as real things. In this case, we're talking about her lies about being a man. Also of note is that, despite growing up Catholic, King is an atheist, thanks in part to her own cynicism, though, sometimes, some residual teachings creep up on her... such as where she would end up if she went to Hell (if it turned out to be real).
* Falsificateurs de personnes: Falsifiers of people
* At this point, Jean (who is age nine here), is still crippled and gets around on arm crutches when he's not in a wheelchair.
* The eval King mentions is a psyche evaluation that Maddy and Gary made her undertake as a condition to see Jean again and move in with them when she was put on probation after they found out about her ruse.
* Has King seriously hurt people? Yes. Killed anyone? Not so much, though she does reevaluate her stance on murder later in life...
* Illusion is referred to as just "the bar" because King hasn't bought it yet, and, as such, it has not been rebranded at this point (Nick sells it to her when he decides to retire)
* 3 Musketeers bars are King's comfort candy. She can be seen stuffing her face with them in several other fics :D
* King not telling Yuri anything about herself stems from her feeling uncomfortable and not trusting Yuri at this point in her life.
* Merci = thank you; Adieu = Goodbye
Alright! I think that about wraps that up, so, if you've been here since the beginning, a sincere thank you for sticking around :)
See you next time, whenever that may be!
Cheers~