The Reason We Fight

Chapter 49. The Bar Fight

Kakume left the building, fuming, her steps heavy. Leorio watched her, uncertain, and followed close behind, not sure where they were going. She stopped in an alley, grabbed a trash can, lifted it above her head and threw it forcefully, bellowing thunderously. She then proceeded to kick and punch every other trash can or object she could find within a three-mile radius.

Leorio halted her forcefully, "Stop that, you're gonna pull your stitches!"

She slumped against the wall, defeated. "I worked with Willat for over a year. A dour man, unpleasant. But somewhat my friend, or so I thought. Same with Dr. Varga, and he's always been so warm and welcoming to me. As for Arlan, well..." She seemed at a loss for words. "Tam was right... everyone ends up betraying you".

"Wow, you've really mastered the art of giving up. Doesn't seem much like you, taking defeat like that, all limp-wristed. And anyways, people can surprise you, sometimes".

Kakume hooted. "You sound like Kurapika. Hope you're not planning on going on a free-form monologue about how great they are, like he did".

Leorio shrugged theatrically. "Well, what do you expect me to say? You got sacked. It's not the end of the world, and there's no need to get all weepy about it".

"Really going for the whole perspective thing, here..." She gave him the side eye. "You know it's not about that. It's just... how can I hope to make my mark on the world, attempt to make it better, without the Red Hands? Is there truly no place for me in this world? Where do I even belong?"

He wrinkled his brow. "You know where. At Kurapika's side, where you should've always been". Kakume appeared surprised by his statement, then laughed goodheartedly.

"You're a good man, Leorio", she said, smiling. She hesitated. "By the way, he was wrong, you know. Arlan. Seeing the final curtain fall before my eyes, the other day, I was afraid. For the first time in my life, I was afraid to die. That's progress, right?"

"That's progress". He stood up then and extended his hand to her. "Come on, let's go. I'm parched from all the yakking".

"Where are we going?"

"Where all recently fired men have gone since time immemorial."

-

Kakume and Leorio entered the bar, a dim-lit haven tucked away in the city's forgotten corners. Its timeworn stools creaked in protest as patrons, with weary faces and threadbare pockets, huddled over chipped glasses.

"Yeesh", Kakume said in distaste. "Desolation is the keyword, here". The bartender, a grizzled soul with a gaze as sharp as the stingy pour he served, measured each drink with a practiced thriftiness.

"Never mind that. This place is just what you need. The depressing music, the half-decent poker game, and most importantly, the cheap booze. Getting plastered when you get laid off is traditional. I don't make the rules!" He approached the bartender. "A bottle of your most budget-friendly liquor, good sir".

The stuff tasted like motor oil. He approached a table where a group of men played a game of cards. "Mind if we join you?" They got chairs and joined the game. Kakume found that her distaste loosened proportionately to the number of shots she downed. Well, I might as well enjoy myself, thought Kakume, who was starting to feel quite inebriated. Better than to cry about my lack of purpose. Let the worries come about when the sun rises on the horizon.

-

Kurapika looked down at his phone, for it beeped with a message from Leorio.

Meet me at the Miser's Mug, on 24th Street.