Blood on my hands...

Posted on Wed Aug 12th, 2020 @ 4:04am by Black Market Arturo Rosso & Civilian Xiulan Song

Mission: This Week's Special
Location: Xiulan's Apartment
Timeline: Current (after Big Trouble in Little Moscow)

After meeting with Sasha Petrovich, Arturo got himself cleaned up, then went on to work.

It was a relatively uneventful night. There was the usual collection of people who got rowdy because they overindulged in liquor and/or recreational pharmaceuticals, along with the ones who got rowdy because they lost more than they could pay or lost their family’s nest egg or their child’s education fund, or whatever money they’d been saving up for their big break. There were those who got handsy with the casino staff. Arturo didn’t tolerate such nonsense, nor did he tolerate anyone getting rough with the prostitutes who worked the Lucky 38, no matter their gender. More than one patron of the Lucky 38 went home battered and bruised after Arturo caught up with them.

Tonight, however, Arturo found himself on edge. The intensity with which he carried out his duties was higher than usual. More than once, he found that he had to dial it down before he hurt someone more than he intended to. When he did get into confrontations, images of the fight in the corridors, in which he killed several Axe Tong thugs and crippled several others, flashed through his mind.

It was early in the morning when Arturo was done with his shift. He collected his things and started off for home, intending to walk to his apartment and get some sleep before he needed to teach the next day. That was if he could sleep. He arrived at a door he thought was his, but his code wouldn’t work on the door. He finally took a closer look at his surroundings and realized that he’d walked to Xiulan’s apartment instead. He turned to leave, hesitated, then turned around and hit the door chime.

Xiulan had reached that point in the night where most of the data feeds flashing through her mind’s eye (her implant) went largely unnoticed, and she was contemplating sleep. Switching off her computer, she wandered over to her small kitchenette to make some coffee and stir a pot on the stove, a pork broth intended to be her lunches for the week. Sipping at her strong brew of coffee as dark and bitter as her soul, she stirred, musing about the variations of ingredients she could use throughout the week. It smelled really good, the rich broth simmering with szechuan peppercorns, star anise, ginger, and dried scallops to kick up that umami flavor, and with a grumble of her stomach she decided that it wouldn’t hurt to sneak a bowl before bed; after all, she hadn’t eaten in… maybe an hour or two?

Just before she could get a bowl down, her doorbell pinged. Sighing, Xiulan wondered who could be at her door at this hour, but she shrugged and went to answer the door, standing in the doorway in a hoodie and short shorts that barely peeked out from under the edge of the hoodie.

“Yes?” Xiulan asked warily, not yet hearing any cues as to who was there.

Arturo looked at Xiulan, the haunted look in his eyes going unseen by her. “Orchidea… I… I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have…” The next thing Arturo knew, he had Xiulan in his arms and he was kissing her. He needed her, needed something good, something certain, something to drive away his conflicted feelings about killing the Axe Tong thugs.

Needless to say, Xiula was understandably surprised, not only by the haunted tone of his voice but by the suddenness of his embrace and the utter desperation in his kiss.

“Artu-” she tried to say, only to have her words stolen by another searing kiss. She put her arms around him and held him tightly, letting him lose himself in the moment so that he could calm down. “Are you alright?” she asked softly when he had finally calmed enough to break for air. She brought a hand up to gently caress his cheek and feel the emotions marring his handsome features. “What’s wrong?” she asked, this time more seriously when she felt the inner turmoil that had etched itself on his brow.

“I…” Arturo started to say, then stopped when he realized they were standing in the doorway. “Can I come in? I don’t really want to be alone right now. I promise I’ll answer you as best I can.”

Xiulan nodded, then stepped aside to allow him in. “Of course,” she said, closing the door behind him as he entered. Her apartment was, as usual, dark, but at the very least she had the sense to flip the switch on the kitchen lights now that she had a guest, and though her laundry had been picked up and cleaned, there was a basket of folded clothes at the end of the bed waiting to be put away, and her bed was still un-made from the last time she had slept in it.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, thinking that he sounded like he was in a fair bit of shock and something warm might help. “Coffee, tea, or something harder?”

Arturo entered. He set his sword cane to the side and removed his frock coat. He unbuttoned his vest, removed his cravat and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, causing it to fall open to about the center of his chest.

“I don’t suppose you have any baiju?” Arturo said. “It seems my nerves are a little on edge.”

“Yeah, just a sec,” Xiulan said, then dug around in one of her cupboards for a large ceramic jug sealed with fabric and a bit of twine. “Hope you don’t mind, it’s flavored with roses,” she said as she set the jug and a shallow bowl on the table, then went over to the stove to make her ‘midnight’ snack. “So, what’s up?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual so he wouldn’t feel rushed to answer before he was ready.

Arturo poured himself a bowl of the strong liquor and took a sip, then another, then drained the bowl, savoring both the taste of the drink and the way it burned going down, warming him and settling his nerves. He poured himself another, which he did not immediately drink, and sat down at the table. “Yesterday afternoon… in the corridor… those men I killed and the others that I crippled… That was the first time I’d gone from someone with a blade with the intent of killing them since the duel that got me exiled. I realize now that duel… I wasn’t serious about killing that bastardo. I was angry, yes, but my anger was the anger of a petulant child. But yesterday in the corridor, when they grabbed you… It was everything I could do to stop myself from killing all of them, as painfully as possible. And I’m not certain I feel any remorse at all for these acts of violence. Perhaps that is more frightening than the anger, the rage I felt when I saw someone try to hurt you.”

Xiulan listened in silence as she chopped a few veggies and started another pan to boil some noodles, nodding as she took in each detail and rolled his words around in her head. Some small part of her was nearly offended at the idea that he had taken up arms to protect her, like she needed protecting, but she quelled that bit of righteous anger by reminding herself that he didn’t view her that way, and that she would have very likely reacted in a similar manner if he had been seriously hurt. For a long while after he had spoken, she remained silent, trying to internalize the feelings, trying imagine what it must be like for him; her experiences with killing had always been so detached, remote even, but last night had been so up close and personal. Had she killed anyone? She knew for certain that she had left many of them permanent injuries, but it had never crossed her mind to wonder if any were dead! Did that mean she had closed herself off too much to care?

Finally with a sigh, Xiulan scooped the noodles into two bowls and topped them with some veggies and the broth, then brought both bowls to the table. She pulled the extra chair at the table close to Arturo so she could sit next to him and lean against him.

“A blade is a weapon. No matter what pretty names we give it, swordsmanship is the way to kill,” Xiulan said softly, almost nuzzling into his shoulder. “My family’s traditions don’t include much blade work, but when my father taught me those katas, this was the most important part of those lessons, to not draw a blade unless I was utterly prepared to kill my opponent. That’s not to say you have to kill, but it’s easy to naively say you wield a blade to protect when the sole purpose of its design is to kill.”

Arturo noticeably relaxed when Xiulan leaned against him. He sipped his drink as he listened to Xiulan speak. “I understand,” Arturo said. “I was taught the blade for sport and for duels of honor, and to protect myself and others only as a last resort. That is why I usually leave the blade sheathed and strike with the cane.” Arturo reached into his boot and pulled one of his cuteddu ammanicatu. Arturon gently guided one of Xiulan’s hands to the knife and let her ‘see’ it with her fingers, which was still folded, the blade tucked away. “This is a cuteddu ammanicatu. Think of it as a folding stiletto. The blade is narrow and sharp. I can slash with it or drive the point deep. I can kill or I can incapacitate. The same with every blade I carry. Using the cane as an impact weapon was part of my training, but on my own, I taught myself to use the cuteddu ammanicatu folded, as an impact weapon and as a pain compliance device, rather like a kubaton.” Arturo sighed. “What I think has me conflicted is not that I was unprepared to kill, but how quickly I became absolutely certain I was prepared to kill, not because I consider you a damsel in distress, but because you are my partner, my friend, and... more… I hope, and I will not sit idly by when you are threatened.”

Xiulan nodded, smiling slightly. “For a fraction of a second, I was almost offended, but then I realized that I would probably react the same way if you were harmed,” she admitted, her fingers running over the folded blade he had handed to her, admiring the skill of the bladesmith who had created it. “Many of our katas have a lethal and non-lethal version, such as you have learned to do with your blades, but even still my father taught me the emotional impact of the lethal versions. I guess that is the difference between sport and true mastery, and your father was irresponsible for not imparting this to you, for not preparing you for what it would mean to take a life. As for how quickly you found yourself prepared to kill, you have grown so much since you’ve been here, and you have no reason to doubt your feelings when you are protecting someone close to you. The truth is, I have no doubt at all that the Axe Tong would have killed us had we not fought back, so I hold no remorse for protecting you or my own life.”

A single tear rolled down Arturo’s cheek. He quickly wiped it away. “Thank you,” he said. “For not judging me. That would have cut me to the quick.” He smiled and began eating his food. “This is quite good. Maybe we should open a Chinese-Italian fusion restaurant? Can you see it now? Sichuan Rabbit Cacciatore… actually, that sounds disgusting. Forget I said that!” Arturo gave Xiulan’s hand a squeeze. “May I stay the rest of the night?”

Xiulan laughed at the dish he named, not just because it sounded awful, but because her heart felt light now that some of the tension had left him. “I could maybe go for a noodle booth, but I’d be too afraid I’d eat all the profits,” she admitted, then took a slurp from her bowl. “As for judging you, or rather not judging, even if I intended to, which I don’t, I wouldn’t have much of a leg to stand on. Everyone has a right to protect their life and those around them, even at the cost of another life; there’s nothing to judge, you did well today. And of course you can stay the night; like I’d put you out like a bad puppy at this hour…” She nudged him with a grin to let him know she was just teasing him with that last line.

Arturo laughed. “I’d like to think,” he said. “That if you did put me out like a bad puppy that I’d have the self respect not to sit on your doorstep looking pathetic and whining to be let back in… but I might not!” He stole a kiss, then another, and another for good measure, then went back to finishing off his noodles. “How was the rest of your day after I left for my shift at the Lucky 38?”

“Uneventful,” Xiulan replied, followed quickly by a long slurp as she practically inhaled her noodles. “No more attacks, though we had a few new inquiries into lessons; news about the second attack was already making the rounds, so that drummed up enough interest in the basic self defense lessons, and I evaluated a couple of them because they seemed to have the interest in becoming more dedicated students. For the moment, I think they’re more impressed with the blind girls’ fighting style, but one of them definitely has an affinity for using props, so I think he would do well learning from you,” she explained in more detail.

“It would be my honor to teach them,” Arturo said. He finished off the last of his noodles, and downed the bowl of liquor. “It’s good what you’re doing for Zane, and what you want to do for the other Plexies. Thank you for letting me be a part of it. Though from what I hear, you might run afoul of the Old Man’s younger daughter, Natalya, the one they call the Czarina. She’s pretty strongly anti-establishment and may not like us trying to help her people become useful members of a society she holds in utter disdain.”

“Eh, I’m not trying to make them into anything, just giving them a safe place to hang, that’s all,” Xiulan said with a shrug, then finished off her noodles. “As for Zane, I understand his fear; not tryna change him either, just helping him rid himself of that fear,” she added as she took their dishes to the sink to wash them. “I mean come on, do I look like I conform to societal rules and mores? That should be a glaring sign that I’m as anti-establishment as they are, I just don’t give a shit.”

Arturo laughed. “Yes, you do,” he said. “Just in your own unique way, unlike the Plexies who are mostly ‘different, like everyone else’. Regardless, I am happy to be doing something useful outside of menacing cheaters, card-counters, drunkards, sore losers, and those that don’t understand that no means no… actually, I rather enjoy that last part.” Arturo rose from the table and walked up behind Xiulan, close enough that his body was touching hers. He slipped his arms around her waist (as best he could, being quite a bit taller than her) and began to kiss her neck. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear.

“And you are horny,” Xiulan declared in return, raising a soapy hand to leave a poof of bubbles on the side of his face. “I’m glad you’re feeling better now; you had me really worried at the door,” she said softly, almost embarrassed to admit that she cared enough to even worry.

Arturo kissed Xiulan’s ear. “I’m sorry I worried you,” he said. “I am feeling much better now.” he kissed her other ear. “To answer your other question, I’m twenty-four and I’m alone here with a very sexy young woman who I like and desire very much who just might feel something similar for me. Of course I’m horny.”

Xiulan chuckled, then as soon as all the dishes were set in the rack to dry, she turned in his arms to face him. “Well, let’s see if we can remedy that situation,” she said in a soft tone, then kissed him.