Needed more A.K.I. in my diet. And Jamie is my SF6 husband. Threw shit at the wall to see if it sticks. I'm satisfied enough to post it. Very experimental and half-assed. If you enjoy, throw one back for Jamie.
Hasty breaths polluted the tense air. Time seemingly stood still, holding its own breath in anticipation to witness who emerged victor. The obtuse alleyway that became a thirty minute battleground was littered with debris of all types - just collateral posing as a disregarded audience to a fight to the death.
Two opponents stood just a few feet away from each other, clutching onto their bloody injuries, using each of their swollen eyes to glance at their bruises. A man in stylish yellow garments fought through his pain to flash a smirk at his opponent.
"Heh… ha… This is what happens when you swing through my neighborhood. You really thought I'd just let you waltz in like you own the place? Do whatever you want?"
"Ungh…" A woman in snakeskin drapes had less than half of the strength to offer her usual sadistic response.
"Nah. 'Fraid not."
A.K.I.'s left knee gave out and she found herself kneeling in defeat. They'd pushed themselves beyond their limits. To limits not known humanly possible by the average fighter. Every nook and cranny of their bodies ached. But someone had to win. And with the last ounce of strength, Jamie secured his victory as he walked up to her and watched her succumb to her injuries.
A loud thud echoed throughout the empty alley, devoid of any curious eyes that would look upon A.K.I., sprawled out like a writhing snake on the ground. Bruised eyes gave way to look up at the clouds above, only for A.K.I.'s vision to be obscured by Jamie stepping over her.
A.K.I. had enough.
With the remaining amount of strength she retained from battle, she took ahold of a knife in her pocket.
One that was saved only for special emergencies. One that she'd use to honor her master, lest she stain his reputation by failing him.
In her mind, if she'd lose to a random punk on the street, Jamie, then she wouldn't be fit to carry on F.A.N.G.S. teachings that he never owed her in the first place. In her mind, she never deserved it. In her mind, it was always a last resort, a last chance to make something of herself anyway.
Jamie caught a glimpse of her hand moving. Before he knew it, she'd put the blade to her own throat.
"The hell?! What're you doing?! Stop!"
At the very last second, he used the tip of his sneaker to clip the weapon out of her trembling fingertips.
"No! What have you done?!" She screamed. "What have you done?!" She screamed even louder, the words echoing throughout the brick structures towering over them. "My master will never forgive me! I serve no purpose to him as a failure! I'll be a tainted offering in his presence if I go back!"
A mixture of pain, murder, and genuine fear writhed in her eyes. So much so, that it sent a chill through Jamie's aching spine. Any second later, and the poor woman wouldn't have hesitated to gouge into her own jugular. She was one hundred percent serious. Now, in the hands of her victorious opponent, A.K.I.'s heart sped up with jolts of anxiety. One second, her vision blurred. The next second, her eyes shut on their own.*
At last, the storm in A.K.I.'s mind cleared up, to the point she could use all of her senses clearly. See, that she was in someone's home. Hear, rustling in the background. Smell, herbs tickling her nose. Taste, the lingering blood on her tongue…
"Get up." A command was given to her from a familiar voice.
The same voice that claimed victory over her.
A voice that rendered everything she worked for, for him, useless.
There he was, Jamie Siu, leaning over her on what must've been his own bed. Perhaps in his own apartment, judging by the small trinkets scattered about the room, most of which she'd call juvenile. On instinct, A.K.I. tensed her muscles to sit up and attack the young man. Her body had other plans, communicated to her with a sharp bolt of pain throughout her nerves. She was still beaten to a pulp. It perhaps had not even been a full day since she passed out. She heard what sounded like a cork popping out of a bottle.
"Here. Take a swig."
"Curse you," A.K.I. spat.
To top it off, she mustered what little strength she had in her hand, and knocked the gourd away from her. In his usual flamboyant suave, Jamie somersaulted across his floor and caught the bottle with his forearm before it could touch the ground.
Was A.K.I. impressed? More or less disgusted that he seemed to have recovered much quicker from the battle, enough to embarrass her even further. He secured the gourd around his forearm and arched a disapproving eyebrow at her.
"That's the game were playin' here, huh? All good. More for me." He made a show of downing his herbal concoction, plenty to send remnants trailing down his smooth, tan skin in glistening lines. Once he was finished, he licked his glossed up lips and dismissed himself. "We'll try this again later when you learn how to behave."
A brutal slam of his door swept A.K.I. up in the shadows of his bedroom.*
A.K.I. had been on the brink of death too many times to count. With all her poison training, she was used to seeing that infamous, haunting, white light fade in and out. But there was something about this time that scared her. Perhaps it was the lack of drive keeping her motivated. Perhaps it was the lack of her dear master watching behind her, willing to offer a reprieve if she stopped breathing - or at least she hoped he would. Now, in Jamie's bedroom, A.K.I. was starving and thirsting to death. Her organs sapped every last drop of reserve in her frail body to assist in the healing process. But there was only so much she could do until aid was needed.
A croak escaped the back of her throat as she gazed up at Jamie's ceiling fan, spinning with so much energy, taunting her, teasing her that it could move while she felt like she'd die if she even tried to lift a finger. Right on cue, Jamie entered the room with a freshly filled gourd. The two strangers locked eyes. Jamie saw what appeared to be a tornado of emotions coursing through her pupils. However, the emotion that seemed to dominate her eyes the most was guilt. Or perhaps shame. And not necessarily towards her actions. But maybe because she felt so weak to beg with her eyes for every last drop of Jamie's gourd, lest she wither away in front of him.
"Are we gonna be on our best behavior this time?" He taunted, walking closer to her bedside. As soon as he was in range, A.K.I. yanked the gourd into her grasp, and chugged like her life depended on it. After all, it did.*
Morning came. Thirst scratched at A.K.I.'s throat again. Upon opening her eyes, she looked to see Jamie on one of his bean bag chairs, staring at her as she stirred awake. What was he doing, she thought. Was he watching her sleep? The two measly hours of sleep she managed to get? As if he could read her mind, Jamie was ready with the gourd. Like last time, she snatched it from him.
"Here."
What did he want now? She paused her fierce chugging to glance at him through her peripheral. Jamie was holding out a sandwich to her. She snatched that out of his hands too.
"'Might wanna be a little grateful. Y'think any hospitals or doctors 'round here would put their neck on the line to give you a hand? After all the hell you've been puttin' this city through with all your poison shenanigans? Killin' people left from right?"
A.K.I. swallowed the food in her mouth and finally turned her black eyes toward him. "You're making a grave mistake, fool. Once I am physically capable, I will gut you and fill your veins with every last drop of poison in my possession."
"That so? Heh."
A surprise response came from A.K.I., thrown off by Jamie's aloofness to her threat. "Ungh?!" Did he not realize that she was quite literally dead serious about killing him?
"Just shut the hell up and drink. I ain't tellin' you twice."
Guess not.*
That night, A.K.I. found herself awkwardly standing in front of Jamie as he turned on the faucet to his bathtub.
"Why am I in your bathroom?"
After running his fingers through the warm water, Jamie looked up at her and replied, "Gotta get you cleaned up somehow. You got blood caked to your skin like a damn tattoo."
And now that he looked at her… really looked at her, so many questions poured out. How was she so frail, yet so strong? Who gave her permission to look so alluring, even with her self-imposed deformities, such as her bleached skin and snake-like limbs? Jamie was attracted to people of all identities, backgrounds, shapes, and colors. But there was something about this one that just made him take an extra second to pause. At least, when he wasn't beating the evil out of her.
"You're so damn pale," he murmured, standing up and running his finger along her arm.
"Don't look at me you… y-you…-," she stuttered to come up with a suitable insult, flustered by his touch.
"-I can do whatever the hell I want."
A.K.I. tensed, vulnerable in her handicapped state that reminded her of her days of selling herself on the street. The ungodly, forbidden memories of some men taking advantage of her. Taking their disgusting carnal desires too far. His words repeated in her head as she looked at him, and wondered if he'd do the same - take advantage of her in her weakened state. "I can do whatever the hell I want."
"And right now. I'm choosin' to give you a hand."*
A.K.I. had half a mind to slip through Jamie's grasp and drown the poor bastard in his own bathtub. She felt him behind her, using his left hand as a coop to pour whatever over her head; the remnants trickled down to her exposed skin. She kept herself covered with her forearms crossed over her chest.
"I know you don't like it. But somebody's gotta do it. Can't have you smellin' like ass whoopin' all day every day."
Jamie minded her private areas with a bar of soap in his hands. Those hands were criminally soft, despite the rugged look they carried. Her eyes snaked down as she watched his hand rub circles into her thighs to scrub off blood in bruises she didn't know she had.
"Why take care of the same woman who will erase you as soon as she has the chance?"
"Guess I'm just a knucklehead like that." He didn't mention the part where she almost killed herself. He also didn't mention his plan of sending her off to an institution after he nursed her back to health. So he settled for another one of his infamous flirts.
"Aaand 'cause you're cute."
A.K.I. didn't respond back. Just tensed her body and repositioned her arms to make for certain that she was covered up. One arm over her chest and the other squeezed between her thighs.
"Relax. I ain't that type of weirdo to get off to a woman at her worst."
"Whatever. Even if you don't realize it, you are. You're all the same. I know how men think, you brat. You pest. I've subjected myself to their taunts for far too-..."
Her breath caught in her throat when she heard herself. Dammit. She slipped. Let herself go too far and reveal too much of her past to this stranger. She felt Jamie pause too, and subtract his hands from her. She could hear the thoughts in his mind piecing together the clue she gave away.
"Damn… No human being should ever have to go through that. I'm sorry."
She didn't need his pity. Or his sorry. But something about admitting what happened lifted a weight off her shoulders. And being comforted on it? Consoled on it? That lifted the remaining weight off her chest.*
A.K.I. found Jamie fast asleep on his sofa. All the knives in the kitchen were gone. All the sharp objects that could substitute were removed. Damn bastard, she thought. He must've thought ahead. After the close call in the bath, she needed to put an end to this man. She was good enough to walk and channel strength in her hands. Jamie was just too nice for her. Too good for her. And she'd repay him with death.
"Witness the fruit of your labor!"
"Huh?! Ungh! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
"You naive little boy… you thought I'd somehow be thanking you?!" She laughed.
Bony, spindly fingers reached for his tongue. Jamie closed his eyes and struggled underneath her. He felt a gush of stinging wetness on his tongue. It was the most vile thing he'd ever tasted. With a violent wince, he clutched his throat and collapsed from his sofa and onto the ground.
"I saved the surprise for last!" She cheered, referring to a secret vile of potion Jamie must've missed when he surveyed her. "Thank you for your efforts. I hereby grant you permission to be deceased."*
A.K.I. didn't make it far before the lack of Jamie's herbal medicine began to take a toll on her. She stumbled through the streets, getting dizzier with each step she took. A collapse was inevitable if she didn't grab onto something quick. Instinct took over, and she reached out for anything, just to grab a tuft of someone's shirt.
Who was this?
She peeled opened her eyes and looked up at a smirking man.
No. Scratch that.
Three smirking men surrounded her. She let go, but he grabbed her wrist and sneered at his fellow thugs.
"She's skinny as fuck. But a hole is a hole."*
Blood dripped from A.K.I.'s fingernails. She'd fought to the death. Beyond death, in fact. What little strength she had seemed to be amplified by adrenaline and a survival instinct. A.K.I. would rather be dead a thousand times over than to let three random wastes of life have their way with her own.
Out of the three thugs, only one remained. The first one she saw. The one that called her a "hole."
A grown woman, a human being, was reduced to nothing but an object. A.K.I. hated people like him. And it showed in her insane glare as she stumbled toward him, ready to use her last drop to slaughter him.
Click-Clack.
A flash of chrome froze her in place. Then came the cowardly laughter.
"Got you where I want you now, bitch! You thought you fuckin' had me?! Huh?! Ha! Is that what you thought?!"
His trembling gun begged to differ his cruel words. That barrel pointed anywhere and everywhere but A.K.I.. On her last leg, she was ready to die a long time ago. Just not like this. Not by a gunshot from scum of the earth. She hated the thought so much that she stumbled even further to him, dragging her shoes along the ground.
"I'll kill you. I'll kill you!" She hollered with a desperate, throaty growl.
It was a deep voice of desperation she'd only heard from herself in the most desperate of times. Even F.A.N.G. himself often pierced a brow whenever he heard her voice stoot to such low extremes. The man continued to taunt her, realizing that she had no sure fire way to make good on her threat.
"Know what I'll do after I shoot you?! Huh, bitch?!" An eerie smile dressed his vile face. "You think I still won't fuck you just 'cause you'll be dead? At least then you won't be squirming."
It was amazing how evil humans could be. His thought alone surpassed anything that A.K.I. did or even thought of herself. And it showed on her face.
"That's right, bitch. You're mine."
Click-Clack.
A.K.I. closed her eyes.
The gunshot rang out.
She felt nothing.
She opened them to see a familiar man in front of her. A man that had been too kind. Now paid for it with his life.
A.K.I.'s breath caught in her throat. Had he caught the bullet for her? Why would he do such a thing?! The nerve of this brat!
Like a slow motion sequence, Jamie raised his left arm in the air, confusing both the shooter and A.K.I. on what he was doing. The gourd attached to his wrist began leaking out the famous herbal concoction. And it was at that moment that A.K.I. noticed a peculiar, bullet hole in the gourd.
Amazing.
The shooter watched in horror as Jamie let his leaking drink caress his face; small rivers traveled down toward his neck, his exposed chest the destination. Jamie's fierce glare found the man.
Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
Jamie let down his black hair and cracked his neck.
"Loaded up."*
It was mysterious enough how Jamie somehow survived death by cheating A.K.I.'s emergency poison vial. But then, how was he able to deflect a bullet so quickly? A.K.I. had to wonder as she watched Jamie in the bathroom washing blood off his hands. This was the most she'd been interested in a person since… him.*
Ever since that night, A.K.I. non-verbally agreed to be nursed by Jamie without any hostility. Jamie could sense this transaction in her eyes. All he did in return was cock a smirk at her.
One morning in particular, A.K.I. asked, "Why did you throw your life away for me? Are you that stupid? Showing off so recklessly won't get you any brownie points from me."
Jamie ignored her question and replied with one himself. "Got me a question of my own."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. It is. Who is this asshole you keep babblin' about? The one you call 'Master', or whatever. Must be one hella special guy. A manipulative prick too if he can brainwash you into takin' your own life."
Cold steel found Jamie's neck. It came from the fork A.K.I. held in her hand. Just minutes ago, she was using it to feed herself one of his microwavable dinners. Now, she was tracing the contours of his throat.
"Gonna try and waste me a third time now, huh? Heh. Go 'right ahead."
A rush of thoughts pertaining to F.A.N.G. stormed her mind. About how she failed him and rendered his goodness to her useless. She dropped the fork with a loud clang. Oh, what Master would think if he saw how weak she was.
"You know nothing of him. You had best watch your mouth about things you don't understand. Master was the only friend I ever had."
"Newsflash? That ain't how friendships are s'posed to work, hun."
Jamie took a bite of his sandwich, seemingly unphased that she was threatening to kill either himself or herself again.
"I could show you, y'know. If you'd like."
"Pray tell. Show me what?"
"What a real friend is."*
A.K.I. couldn't do it. She couldn't keep this up. Jamie was too nice to her. Too good of a person, reminiscent of sweet old souls that she always heard about in stories. It just always seemed like those souls didn't exist in real life until him and his dumb smiling/his stupid break-dancing came along.
"I could show you… what a real friend is."
These foreign feelings. What were they? Similar to her love for F.A.N.G., yet different somehow.
Had she fallen in love with Jamie?
Impossible. Right? Or maybe… something else.
She hated it. Why couldn't she just go back to the way things were before? Before she met this brat who never stopped smiling, even through the dark stories she told him about from her life. He'd just nudge her in the shoulder and tell her, "You're still kickin' aren't you?" He'd say it like it meant nothing. As if it meant nothing that she gorged herself, stripped off her own skin to please the only man that seemed to give a damn about her.
Was Jamie mocking him? Was he mocking her? Why couldn't he just shut up? Why couldn't he just let her be miserable? Just let her kill herself like she wanted to do so bad? Even with her nearly recovered body, she couldn't go back to F.A.N.G. and tell him the ins and outs of her failure. Didn't Jamie know that?
Make no mistake… A.K.I. didn't love Jamie. She hated him. So she made another attempt on his life.*
A drizzle of poison mixed with saliva dripped from Jamie's clenched teeth. A.K.I. could feel the wet hot spots of Jamie's mouth drenching her neck. He overpowered her again, and had her pinned by her wrists on the ground. A.K.I. was laughing at him. A different kind of laugh than the usual that derived from sick pleasure. This one was one of guilt. Perhaps a defense mechanism to keep herself from feeling shameful that she tried to poison Jamie for the second time.
"You should've seen the look on your face when you realized what I'd done! Priceless!"
"Erngh!" The lingering burning sensation in his mouth kept his witty comebacks at bay.
"After I'd erase you, then I'd erase myself! That way, Master wouldn't have to worry about doing it himself! It'd be my last favor to him!"
On top of A.K.I., Jamie looked into her eyes. They looked so dead. So lost. Even with the laughter vibrating through her body, rippling into his own.
"I've never wanted to kill someone so bad in my goddamn life!" He admitted to her. His weight pressing against her chest rendered all of her healing useless. She could feel previous bones that healed giving way to injury again. "After all I fuckin' done for you! You ungrateful bitch!"
His words and curses were so alien on her ears. She'd never heard him pushed to such an extreme. It made her laugh, feel more alive. So she did. She laughed harder. And harder. To the point his jagged, anger filled groans thundered in her ears.
"Why are you so sick?! What has life done to you to make you give up so much of your humanity?! If only you could look at yourself right now! How miserable you look! Fuck! What happened to you?!" His words echoed a care for humanity A.K.I. never knew possible. Was this man serious? Did he really care for the well being of others this much? Jamie had many questions in his own life that needed to be answered. But in this moment, one question was all that mattered - How could he make A.K.I. feel loved? So he answered himself. And pressed his lips against hers.
Immediately her laughing ceased. And then those same lips hastened to receive him once again.*
Shadows swaddled a man clad in dark attire. Mist coated the empty street of a back alley that boasted an ominous presence. F.A.N.G. paused here, listening closely to footsteps trailing behind him.
"You already know I'm here. So how 'bout we make this quick?"
F.A.N.G. turned around and saw for himself a man that you didn't want to piss off. "And you are?"
"Somebody that has to clean up your goddamn mess."*
F.A.N.G. fell to Jamie's wrath. Like a ragdoll, he sat against the concrete with broken frames to reveal the fear in his eyes. Jamie's black mane masked the murderous glint in his gaze, brought about after seeing the lowest of low in humanity. Flames of anger were kindled by the horrible stories that A.K.I. told him of what she'd done to please him.
"She was willing to die for you, y'know? And you probably never gave two shits about her. Did you? Some Master you are."
"She was street trash. I saved her. I made her into what she is today."
"And now, I'm going to make her human again. And I'll start by sending you to hell."
That next morning, a man was found with his head twisted backwards, a fixed look of horror on his corpsed face.*
Secrets are hard to keep. Promises, even more so. But fate rendered them both useless. After all, fate always had its way. Played with time, life, secrets, and promises like they were all toys. Was that what A.K.I. was to Jamie? Like she was to him?
Not a chance.
Jamie shook his head as he stared at her, sound asleep in his bed next to her. Naked and comfortable next to him. Completely exposed to him, yet, trusting in all the ways she could give him.
He taught her how it felt to be seen. How it felt to be human. To matter to the world and the communities that dwelled within it. Finally, she felt like she belonged somewhere.
Jamie woke her up with a kiss on her forehead. She stirred awake with pierced eyebrows. Even after months of waking next to her, the uncomfortable look on her face filled him to the brim with discontent.
"'Nother nightmare?"
"Of F.A.N.G., again. Yes."
Jamie loved that she'd gotten out of that old habit of calling that monster her master.
"Don't sweat it. Couple of more days, and I'm taking you on a nice lil' vacation. Just you, me, sun and sand. Nothin' else."
He kissed her again.
She smiled. It dropped the very next second as a question came to mind.
"You promised to never keep secrets from me. Right?"
"That's right. Scouts honor."
She hesitated, looked at his lips - the ones she'd gotten drunk in love with, then scurried up to his eyes. "Did… Did you kill him?"
Jamie kissed A.K.I. once more, criminally gentle, and whispered in her ear.
"Yes."
The smile returned.
A.K.I. loved Jamie.