Chapter Text
Sunday crept in like the smell of burning food. Wujiu wished he could have slept in all day Sunday and he frankly may have had his brother not opened the door to his room to bother him. His joints ached like no tomorrow- and although he had the new umbrella; it probably was a far cry from his cane.
He awoke to the sound of Bian coming into the room, but had to be stirred-not-shaken conscious. “Joe, wake up. Jonesy’s on the phone…”
Wujiu let out a tired, regretful, but somehow happily surprised groan. How in the hell was Jonesy up after all that had happened?
Bian let out a sigh and stepped back, giving his twin a bit more breathing space. At least a bit more space for his morning breath. “Are you still available for today?”
Wujiu made a conscious note of how Bi’an was speaking to him in Mandarin this morning and replied back. “What time is it?”
“About ten-thirty.”
“Mmng. I’ll be at her place by one… Could you tell her that?”
“Fine,” Bian said quietly. “But I’m not your secretary,” Bian informed him. The detective took two meaningful strides to the door and turned around, switching back to English. “And now that I know you’re awake… We need to talk about last night when we both get back.”
Joe let out a groan as he blinked the tired away from his eyes, or at least, made an attempt to. In front of him stood his brother, fully dressed in his uniform but looking a might bit frayed around the edges. Mister White seemed to look simultaneously stressed and put-together all at the same time.
“You need to get up, lazy.”
Wujiu blinked at his brother in surprise. Nothing about this seemed… Well, it didn’t seem usual. “Where you off to?”
“Work.” Mister White smiled. “Jonesy got home and tipped us off, so… I’m back on the case, as it seems.”
Mister Black sat up, grumbling. “So soon?” he asked. “Your chief mustn’t be having a good time with that.”
Mister White straightened himself out and smiled with pride. “Oh. He’s not. Chief Knight called in sick this morning so now he NEEDS me on the case, at least until he recovers which-” Bian smiled. “For his sake I hope he takes it very seriously. You know… For his health.”
Wujiu smirked. “Don’t wish your boss ill.”
“I didn’t say anything of the sort! Whateeeever are you talking about?” Bi’an asked as he turned back into the doorway. “BUT YOU STILL NEED TO GET UP.”
If it was Ten-thirty by the time Bi’an had come to get him- it was already eleven by the time Wujiu had actually committed to seeing the waking world that day. Wujiu ate an apple for breakfast, deciding to leave some room for baked goods later, and went about his morning as peacefully as he could.
Wujiu checked his face again for stubble- but this time found himself flinching at the bruises and visible signs of pain. His eyes were still puffy underneath, but at least now there seemed to be some sort of reason for it to exist. His eyes held some sort of...dull spark to them now.
He accessed the rest of his features, his freshly cut hair and how it made him look like an entirely different person. He found himself sitting uneasily when he realized he hadn’t changed- just his outer appearance had; and it was starting to reflect who he was on the inside a little more accurately.
Was this who he wanted to be?
Well, then he smiled. Jonesy had given Joe permission to call her by her given name. Her real one… Maybe he could learn to live with looking a little more like a triggerman. Maybe.
Wujiu took his time getting ready and sponge-bathing himself. There was only so much he could do when he looked beat up, but he’d do every bit he could. After all; Jonesy, even on her off-days, put a lot of effort into her cleanliness.
True to form Jonesy- er… Lydia was waiting for him outside her apartment building. She, herself, was significantly more dressed down than he had ever seen her, only wearing simple clothing that sat somewhere squarely away from both her careers. She still wore makeup, but her hair wasn’t pinned up as tightly and flawlessly as she was as a doctor, but at the same time it wasn’t down and glamoured up like she was as the singer… Her clothing still fit her fantastically, but gone were the practical stiff and starched cotton collars and the equally pragmatic sequined frocks. Instead she stood in a simple shin-length skirt and a soft looking blouse.
Lydia looked… Normal. Comfortable. Comforting even.
When she finally was able to recognize him as he hobbled down the street: she grinned. “Afternoon, Mister Black!”
Oh right. That was something that happened yesterday. He figured he’d play along.
“Afternoon, Miss Jones…” he pulled a cringe and so did she, a cringe that ended in an awkward and comforting snort. “Okay, saying it as your last name is really weird.”
“It sounds so official!” Lydia pointed out from beside him. “I’m uh… Sorry I didn’t recognize you… I’m still used to you… Uh.” she gestured to his hair. “Before the haircut.”
Wujiu felt a sudden sinking in his gut. “Uh… You… Liked it before? I can grow it back? I just-” he pursed his lips. “I just. Changed it for the whole… Hatred debacle.”
The doctor let out something akin to a nervous chuckle. “What? NO… Only if you want to, I mean. I just…” she smiled. “I haven’t gotten used to it yet…” she said, coming forward to catch a better glimpse at his face. “You okay? You in too much pain?”
Wujiu grinned. “Actually, Jonesy-” he said. “Everything smarts.”
Jonesy let out a disappointed tut and placed her hands on her hips. “You could’a cancelled, you know!”
“I could’ve!” he admitted. “But I’d rather spend my time healin’ making something with someone I like than just… Staring at the ceiling.”
The doctor let out a huff and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m not even so sure THAT is a good idea…” she said. “You seem… Well. I’ve seen you WORSE before, but that doesn’t mean you look good.”
Wujiu felt a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you, Doctor Lydia.”
Jonesy’s face went red with embarrassment as she grabbed the detective’s brother by the elbow. “Oh, hush up. You know what I mean…” she said, stepping inside the apartment’s lobby.
Wujiu was regarded with a few looks, but generally the doctor was too fast for anyone to ask what was going on… Must have looked strange, having a tall, skinny Chinese-guy being dragged by a small, bossy doctor.
When they were headed up the stairs Jonesy turned back to him. “We’ll take things slow, today, okay?” she asked. “It may be my day off, but it’s your day off, too… No action. No craziness.”
Joe only let out a rueful smile. “Could someone knock on wood? I’m not sure I can handle any sort of action right now,” he told her as she led him up to her place. “I’m not even sure I’m supposed to handle that much action in general.”
Lydia smiled back at him, encouragingly. “We all think like that,” she added. “We almost always say that right before the universe decides to make us eat those words.”
When they went three doors down and to the right, Jonesy stopped to fumble with a key she kept around a metal chain she wore. Before she opened the door she looked back at Wujiu and clarified again. “Are you sure you want to teach me to cook?” she asked. “We could always do something else,” she offered, pushing the door open and turning on the light. “Go to the cinema. Go out to eat… Anything you want, really.”
The tea-shop manager took a moment to consider the alternatives. He wasn’t particularly enthused about the idea of dealing with more people. In fact, if it hadn’t been her; he likely would have cancelled, so Wujiu shook his head. “Nah,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’m not going to make you sit in the colored section of the cinema. All the fight in me is gone.”
“All of it?” Lydia asked as she stepped inside and gestured for him to enter the portal to her home. “That’s a shame. It’s one of your best qualities.”
“Just until I recover,” he informed her gently. “I just… I can’t ‘people’ right now.”
“Oh so I’m not ‘people’?” she asked giggling as he took a gander around her apartment. It wasn’t large, but every bit of it was made use of.
The place couldn’t have been larger than two rooms, aside from the washroom. Her room was to the left with the door open. Various fabrics and personal possessions seemed to be littered about her personal furniture, but in an organized calamity kind of a mess. The den was well-furnished, much more presentable, but with old furniture and small tables and chairs that she very clearly took a great deal of time to care for. The entire place was connected with a small, but very usable kitchenette. The entire space smelled like wisps of phantom perfume and tea, and he was pleased to say he was finding a hard time being uncomfortable, even if it was a place he had never been.
“Well?” she asked, poking him in the side. “Am I?”
Wujiu reacted viscerally to her poke, cringing slightly which caused her to bring her hands up apologetically.
“Oh my god, Joe. If you need to relax- you should have just told me!” she urged, lightly touching him by the shoulder. “Come on, you big palooka. Let’s set you down.”
Wujiu wasn’t really in a position or want to argue. By the time Jonesy had him down on the couch she was very clearly surprised.
“Gosh. You really did have all the venom sapped out of you, didn’t you?” she asked, placing her hands on his shoulders.
Finally he let out a sigh and looked away from her. “It’s… Look. The injuries are a downer, but they’ll heal…” he told her. “I’m just… Tired…” he smiled. “Really want this whole Hatred thing to be done and over with…”
The doctor released his shoulders and smiled. “Well,” she began softly. “It is for now, at least. You have that much.”
Wujiu let out a sigh and let his head sink back into the sofa. “Did you hear anything?” he asked. “Bian was basically out the door when he woke me up, so…”
Lydia smiled, rubbing her arm with a genuine, although hesitant smile. “Why don’t I make us some tea and we’ll talk that out, okay?”
The doctor, ever patient, and sweet fixed him some tea. He couldn’t tell exactly what it was; but he could tell that it came from a bag- and she hid the flavor of it in milk and sugar. She apologized profusely for how awful it must have been, but he found himself chugging it anyway.
Apparently Demi hadn’t been found. Her room at the University had been largely emptied out, but it hadn’t been a surprise. Demi had gotten into the university on a Scholarship a year or so back. It didn’t pay for everything, but it got her in the door at least. But her grades took a plummet at the start of this semester- so she lost it. Wujiu could only guess that she lost it, in part, to some of the extra stuff she had to do while working at the Canada… And with the dept she still owed from the loan she took out from the Jokers; she didn’t have a great deal of prospects.
So the motive came down to the most simple thing. Money. Demi decided ultimately; if she was going to go out- she was going to take a lot of people with her. Some of whom probably deserved to go with her- but others? Maybe not so much.
“Is it… Bad that I feel for her?” Lydia said after a moment of silence they had, just sitting on her couch.
Wujiu lifted his nose from his cup and waited for her to elaborate. After all, Lydia did shoot the woman.
Lydia made a defensive face and shrugged her shoulders. “I mean- she was really driven to her wit’s end,” she said. “When I joined my university; I received a loan from a bank, but…Demi may not have been able to receive one, you know?” she asked. “If I had been in her situation; I don’t really know what I would do.”
Wujiu felt his jaw tighten.
“Run away,” he said plainly. “You run away. You gather what you can, and you do your best to get out of dodge,” he said finally. Wujiu sat up a little more evenly and looked at Lydia. “The Mob doesn’t run on merit. It runs on fear. No matter how good the people in the mob can be- no matter how good you will be; they only care about making sure they stay functional. If one part of them doesn’t work; they replace it. Simple as that… So you run.”
Lydia went a little slack-jawed at that, pursed her lips and swallowed. “I don’t… I don’t side with what she did,” she told him. “I’m merely saying I understand why she felt she had to do it.”
Wujiu was half-way to bringing the tea back up to his lips.
“Yeah. I do, too.”
Wujiu left Jonesy’s place at about eight. Bi’an still wasn’t back when he arrived so he left a note for the detective and went to bed, eager to catch up on the sleep he had been losing over the last few days.
When Wujiu got up again he found his note had been written as a reply. In frilly cursive, Bian had told Wujiu to come to the precinct after work to give his piece, and probably the bottle, too (which he still hadn’t mentioned he had, despite it all). Maybe he wasn’t as reliable as Mike made him out to be.
Wujiu found it a rather comforting notion to slip back into his old uniform, although he found the hair still made him look like a vastly different person than he had been just a few days before. What a weekend, huh?
The trip on the tram took a smidge bit longer than he had expected; something about getting the lever unstuck, but sure enough the trip had become one of the more peaceful parts of his morning… He found himself cringing internally when he hadn’t seen Robbie on the corner and found Mike standing in front of the red lotus looking… Well. To say he looked worse for wear was saying something.
He tried to smile wryly as Joe approached. “Mornin’, boss-man.”
Wujiu cringed. “I’m not your boss…” he grumbled. “The fuck you doin’ here, Mikey? I’ve had enough punches this past week to last me AT LEAST till next year.”
Mike smiled, producing a letter. “Au, contraire!” he said.
Wujiu looked down at the letter, then back up at Mike before tearing into it. It had been from Madame Blue- and although Wujiu wasn’t one of her mobsters; he definitely didn’t want to piss her off anytime soon.
Mike leaned forward expectantly as Wujiu finished the letter.
“... She hired you to work for me?”
“Just at the tea-shop!” Mike said. “You know… Um. Since you’re good with drinks n’ all. And I owe you one anyway.”
“You owe me several, actually.”
“ANYWAY,” Mike continued. “Um. I’ve been trying to… You know. Distance myself from the rest of the Jokers, okay?” he asked. “I’m not askin’ you to take me in ‘cause I deserve it. I’m askin’ you because… Well, you’re the only one in this game with his head on straight. I figured, maybe… I could learn a thing or two from you.”
Wujiu held the letter back. “Does Contento KNOW you work here?”
Mike nodded. “No funny business. None… I just… I need a dime, okay?”
Wujiu looked at the Joker skeptically. He doubted very seriously Madame Blue would have held it against him to deny Mike a job, but Wujiu could certainly afford it… And Mike was seemingly trying to put a wedge between himself and his boss with the Jokers…
In a way, Mike was getting what was coming to him.
Wujiu let out a growl and walked to the front door, digging for his key. When he opened the door he hobbled inside and turned around- looking at Mike through the glass window… The man looked like he was about to fall apart.
Wujiu tapped on the window and pointed to the door.
“You coming or not?” he asked, loud enough for Mike on the other side to light up and follow straight in after him.
If there was one thing Joe could give the mobsters in Chicago; it was that you could set a watch by their paranoia. You knew that the cops were crooked, you knew that a man walking by himself wouldn’t be a man walking for much longer. People lived by their own paranoia, but at least in that people had something in common.
In Otleus City, you never knew. You couldn’t trust whether or not you met someone genuine. If the heiress you made friends with was just waiting to screw you over, or if you could read the emotions or intentions behind your own family. You couldn’t tell if its inhabitants wanted you gone and dead, or if you somehow had become the rock in the middle of their storm.
But Otleus, at least, had a chance.
The Mysterious Cases of The Brother's Heibai Wuchang
The City of Hatred
End
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To be continued in Part 2.