Chapter Text
It took Sing several tries to convince the people outside Yut Lung’s house to let him in, actually no. It took him pushing through the guards and stopping at the open door where he heard Yut Lung’s screaming, the guards stopped right behind him.
“Throwing another wine-soaked tantrum?” Sing’s face hardened when he saw the spilled bottle, the glass of wine left untouched by his side. He already has an idea of what Yut Lung’s plan for the rest of the day would be.
“Hey…” Yut Lung’s furious expression morphed into a smug look when he saw Sing. He sat back on his chair, the tension left his shoulders as he effortlessly commanded the guards. “The rest of you, leave the room”
“But master Yut Lung!” The guards protested, some with such a genuine worry flashing through their eyes. Sing almost felt sick for what he was about to do. “We cannot risk leaving you alone with—”
“I said leave the room!!” Yut Lung stood up, snapping at the guards. Still the same bossy princess as he always was, Sing bitterly thought. He looked unimpressed by Yut Lung’s show of power.
“Talk about a total tyrant, they’ll slip you something one of these days.”
Yut Lung scoffed, picking up his wine glass and filling it to the brim. “Let them. I can sniff out even the smallest traces of poison. I know a lot more about that stuff than they ever will.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Want a drink?”
When he looked back at Sing, something clicked in his expression...almost as if only now he was processing Sing was here. That he had a gun pointed at him. He didn’t even seem surprised. Sing felt something bubbling deep in his chest, seeing the placid smile Yut Lung gave him.
“... Go ahead, you’re absolutely justified.” This was the calmest Sing had ever seen Yut Lung. He looked like a mess, discomposed, off, and yet he still managed to seem serene. He already knew Yut Lung was so ready to die at any point, yet he couldn’t feel justified going through with this. Sing wanted to throw up from how content Yut Lung looked at the prospect of death, he had his eyes closed again— he was bracing himself.
“You wanna die that bad?” Sing tried to keep his voice even, he couldn’t show himself wavering in front of Yut Lung. “I heard from Blanca...about why you hate your family so much.”
Yut Lung gritted his teeth, looking down, refusing to look at Sing in the eye. “He’s got a big mouth!”
Sing put the gun down slowly.
“And hell, I understand where you’re coming from. But—”
Yut Lung finally moved, swiping at the wine glass and letting it shatter on the ground. The red liquid staining the carpets and Yut Lung’s pants. “Oh, stuff it! Don’t presume to understand me!” He whipped his head back towards Sing, the same furious expression set on his face again. And here Sing thought he just managed to have a calm conversation with Yut Lung.
“Just listen to me, will you?!” Sing shouted back. “Look. I thought it was cool that you were taking over the Lee Syndicate. Well, maybe not how you did it— but I thought that you, at least, wouldn’t screw over other Chinese like your scumbag brothers did all the time.”
Yut Lung looked away again, he probably didn’t want to accept the fact he was acting just like his brothers. Sing wanted to scoff, he’s not surprised, all Yut Lung has done throughout the conversation was throw hissy fits, act meek, and then implode the moment he was called out.
“Well, Not only was I wrong about that— but the reason you teamed up with that bastard Golzine and made Lao go after Eiji was JEALOUSY, of all the pathetic things!” Sing took a step closer towards Yut Lung, if he was going to get yelled at, he’d just scream louder than him.
“Shut up!!” A distressed Yut Lung took a step back.
“Like hell I'll shut up! You couldn’t stand it that Ash had someone he really trusted and cared about! It killed you that Ash found something you couldn’t have yourself… so you tried to destroy it!” Sing continued to advance towards the shell-shocked Lee heir. God, this was sickening, Sing wanted to leave already. Yut Lung had no reason to be that surprised, was this actual news to him? Had Blanca failed to put any sense into this little spoiled brat? This only made Sing’s blood boil.
He didn’t expect Yut Lung to surge towards him with a heavy-handed slap. Out of reflex, Sing hit back harder, angrily spitting out a ‘Same to you buddy!’. While Sing had only flinched with Yut Lung’s Slap, Yut Lung collapsed to the ground like a limp doll. Jesus, had he hit that hard? Or was Yut Lung just that fragile?
“Hey...u-uh hey, you okay?!” Sing felt his palms get sweaty, oh fuck he didn’t mean to decimate him or anything. He thought if Yut Lung could hit that hard, he’d be able to handle a slap too. He bent down to Yut Lung’s level, placing a hand on his shoulder. Yut Lung gave no answer. Sing huffed. “Man, you’re just as weak and girly as you look, I thought you were more like Ash.” Strong, willful, commanding, not...this.
“Well, pardon me! So I’m not a big he-man!” Yut Lung retorted, touching his cheek and wincing. Sing had to control himself from rolling his eyes, he just stood up and looked down at Yut Lung. Seeing someone who was supposed to be a Lee...someone everyone in Chinatown feared just from the name. God, oh god, he felt so sick. He had to say strong despite that, pushing the bile in his throat down. He came here for a reason.
“... Stop looking back all the time. The past is over.” Yut Lung still refused to say anything, avoiding eye contact like always. “And no matter how much you hate the Lees, you are one yourself, and that’s just a fact of life. Call it your fate.”
At this point, Sing could hardly believe in fate anymore. He couldn't find himself believing in his own words, but these weren't for himself, they were meant for the older boy who let himself be dragged around by life on the pretense of destiny.
“Whether you like it or not, you’re our leader... I can’t forgive what you did, and I never will. But the bad blood between us created an opening for the Vietnamese and the Arabs, and I guess that’s my fault as well as yours.” Sing averted his gaze from Yut Lung, he had to keep a level voice. He couldn’t waver, he couldn’t. “Chinatown’s gone to the dogs. People can’t even walk around safely in broad daylight.”
“So I can’t let you die just yet.” He could see Yut Lung turn his head, his mouth opened just slightly. Shock. “First you have to make up for what you did— ”
Retribution for Shorter, for Nadia.
“—By taking back Chinatown.”
Yut Lung shook his head slowly, looking just as pained as Sing felt. “I don’t have what it takes…” He spoke in such a soft way, Sing almost mistook the voice coming from a child. And he was looking at one, but he was also a child, they both were...this wasn’t fair. He was also a kid. He still doesn’t have what it takes to replace Shorter...why is he the one being the responsible one. Why does he have to be the one to take the first step to make a change?
“Quit cursing your lot, and stop hating yourself. Cuz that doesn’t get you anywhere.” He said this as if he did any better. His hypocrisy would bite him in the ass one day, but he kept reminding himself, that this wasn't about him. He'd say whatever he needed to get his point across to Yut Lung.
Sing waited for a response, there wasn’t one. He looked at Yut Lung’s face and saw tears streaming down his face, his hair clinging onto him made him look like a banshee. What is he crying for? What’s the point of that? He never got to cry this much when Shorter died, no, he had to accept the death and move on then. Because there was more going on, and he couldn’t let himself mourn. Yut Lung had no one to mourn, what right did he have in crying now. Sing pushed down those thoughts.
“What now? What’s there to cry about?”
“It won’t work out as easily as you seem to think.” Yut Lung continued to cry. “Hating my brothers was my whole life so far, it’s the only thing that kept me going.”
Spite.
“If I didn’t have that…”
He would have let himself die already, an unspoken sentence between them.
“Look...you’ve avenged your mom’s death now. It’s over, so put it behind you.” Sing felt himself choke up. “And hey, in spite of everything I….I don’t hate you.”
He said it, he finally said it. Sing felt a small burden leave his shoulders. A heaviness remained.
“There’s something about you… that I just can’t hate. Cuz you’re hurt, your soul’s bleeding even now…you’re like Ash that way.”
That only made Yut Lung cry harder. Sing was taken back, shit did he say something wrong? Maybe comparing him to Ash again wasn’t the right move. He was probably sick of being compared like Sing was, god he didn’t think this through enough. He said the first thing that came to mind:
“Jeez! Will you stop crying like a girl all the time?!”
“Pardon me for being exactly the way I look!” Yut Lung bitterly replied, wiping away his tears now. “Weak and girly! All Right?!”
Sing rolled his eyes this time. “Why do you always have to get so defensive? You drive me nuts, I swear!”
“If I drive you nuts, just leave me alone!”
“See? That’s what I mean!”
Sing couldn’t believe this, was Yut Lung just always like this? He thought it might be just when he’s overly emotional or something, but no! He’s convinced now, Yut Lung is just this bratty! The yelling had calmed down to just loudly complaining about each other. There was no hatred or anger fueling either of them, just childish banter between two teens who didn’t know how to admit that they were both scared of the future.
There was no one to guide them, they were left on their own to figure out what to do next. Hundreds, thousands of people depended on them...two kids to take charge of everything. Sing didn’t actually have to help Yut Lung, but it would help both of them. Yut Lung needed to get himself together, and Sing would be there to help. He couldn’t give up on Yut Lung, no matter how bratty, self-centered, and pitiful he made himself appear. Sing knew better than to believe that was all Yut Lung was.
He’s seen how ruthless Yut Lung could be. He’s naturally charismatic, resourceful, calculating, educated...he was also hurt, mourning, confused, lost, lonely; He's so many things.
Yut Lung ended up crying himself to sleep. He threw a huge tantrum, smashing bottles and yelling at Sing to get out now that he was finished with his little speech. But Sing stayed and waited. He couldn’t trust the guards to do anything to stop Yut Lung from doing anything stupid, he couldn’t trust Yut Lung to not do anything stupid. He stayed until the boy finally gave in and reluctantly agreed to rest.
Sing found himself laid out at the edge of the comfy four-poster bed, his arm in an iron grip (Sing could only assume the gesture to be a silent command for him to stay), so he stayed. He was tired too. Today was just too much.
He wondered if Blanca was ever going to come back.
“Hey, you in there or are you moping around again?” Sing knocked on the door to Yut Lung’s room, tapping his foot as the guards littered around the house eyed him. It was hard to tell if they were actually staring him down or not under their dark shades, but Sing could only assume they were why the hair on his back was standing up, and he felt goosebumps on his arms. Definitely not the AC, definitely not.
"The doors are always open.”
Sing kicked open the door, poking his head in with a plastic bag in hand. Yut Lung sat in front of a vanity, braiding his hair, and already dressed up ready to go for the day. He turned towards Sing and greeted him with a small smile. He looked nothing like the person who only days ago was crying on the wine-stained carpet.
“You’re here.”
“Hello to you too your highness, gotcha food. I don’t know if you ate yet or anything, but you’re eating something with me either way.” He plopped down on the couch, opening the bag and throwing the styrofoam containers onto the coffee table. “Hope you like Nadia’s cooking, not like it’d anything like your fancy-ass chefs’ cooking but it tastes like home.”
“I’m not hungry, it’s fine.” Yut Lung got up from his seat, still standing over his vanity. The sound of opening and closing drawers echoed. “I have something to do today, I can’t just sit around and eat with you.”
“Sure you can, I’m also busy trying to clean up stragglers who keep trying to overtake my position as boss of Chinatown. Yet here I am giving you food and checking up on you.” Sing bent over, carefully slurping the soup from one of the containers. “Look man, I got hot sour soup and some buns. I’m not gonna take the shit I bought for you back, so it's either you let your room smell like roasted pork for a couple of days or sit down and eat with me. We have some things we gotta talk about too. What kinda appointment do you have that’s making you miss a good meal?”
Yut Lung pulled out a pin from one of the drawers, tucking it into his braid. “I’m visiting Hua Lung today, it won’t take longer than an hour. If you’re so insistent, I’ll eat with you then if you’re still even here, Soo Ling.”
“What are we, all buddy-buddy now? Calling me Soo Ling now? What happened to just Sing, or using my whole name.” Sing tried to move away from the topic of Hua Lung. Yut Lung probably didn’t want to go into it, neither did Sing. He never wanted to think about the absent look in Hua Lung’s eyes, or how he seemed as lost as a toddler alone at the market. It wasn’t right. Nothing about it seemed right.
Yut Lung understood, he played along.
“Shouldn’t you call me Lee Yut Lung then? I am your senior by two years.”
“Touché. I’ll wait for you then, if it’s longer than an hour I’m ditching you hear me?”
“Of course. See you soon Soo Ling.” Yut Lung fixed his tie and exited the bedroom.
Sing waited, finishing his portion quickly. He paced around the room, looking at the minimalist decor and few pictures Yut Lung had hung up. He did his best to not think too deeply about Yut Lung’s visit to Hua Lung. Sing tried to ignore the nagging feeling.
He pretended that Hua Lung’s death was the inevitable end goal to it.
Sing Soo Ling took a nap on the couch, and when he woke up, the food had gotten cold by the time the young master came back. Yut Lung ate it anyway.
“You should microwave it, or reheat it on the stove, whatever you prefer. Eating in your very big dining room is an option too, you know?” Sing looked up at Yut Lung, his legs slung on the back of the couch. Yut Lung opened the container with the hour sour soup, sniffing it.
“The buns were perfectly edible cold, it doesn’t matter to me”
“Sure, you can always make do with buns, but cold soup? You’re pullin’ my leg right?”
“It doesn’t really matter to me.” Yut Lung shrugged.
Sing wrinkled his nose. “Did you also lose your sense of taste while building up your immunity to poison or something? Soup ain’t the same if it isn’t nice and hot, the taste just isn’t there!”
“God, don’t be so overdramatic, it’s just easier than going all the way to the kitchen to reheat something. I don’t care.”
“Hell no, I won’t let you eat Nadia’s good cooking the wrong way. I’ll heat up your damn soup for you, c’mon, let’s not stink up your room. I hang out there too.” Sing twisted his body and awkwardly stumbled around as he got back onto his feet. “Bet you didn’t even eat anything on that little trip, yeah?”
“I couldn’t keep anything down while in the same room as him.”
Sing nodded, he understood, so he wouldn’t say more. He couldn’t. Just like how he couldn’t bring up a lot of things with Yut Lung, not yet at least. Sing had to be patient, and stay on friendly terms with Yut Lung.
“Let’s get you a nice hot brunch to start your day then your highness.”
“What’s with your name?”
Sing looked up from his papers, giving Yut Lung a confused look. “What about my name?”
“I'm a bit skeptical about it, who names their kid something so…"
"Eccentric?"
"Yes, something like that."
"Cuz it's the name my brother gave me, he chose it and I just kept using it. Helped me separate gang life from family life. Then it became too intertwined, and now I'm Sing Soo Ling." Sing shrugged, he tried to seem nonchalant mentioning his brother, trying to hide bits and pieces of the truth.
He didn't use it to separate himself from gang life and his personal life. No, they were one and the same and always have been. Sing Soo Ling just felt like something 10-year-old him would find intimidating. It was less flowery and poetic than his birth name.
It was masculine, it made him sound tough.
But now, it felt silly, he suddenly wanted to bury the name and maybe go back to his old name. Perhaps people would take him more seriously then.
Yut Lung snickered, then it turned into muffled laughter.
"Sorry, I don't mean to laugh at why you decided to go with that name. I just thought it's kind of funny how we're both matching with funny names. A dragon and a lion demon." Yut Lung smiled a little, and that made Sing smile too. He laughed with Yut Lung, booing at his bad attempt at a joke. Sing got a pillow thrown at him, and they bickered again.
This time, it was friendly. They were still smiling even after their insults and yelling at each other to finish their respective paperwork.
Sing Soo Ling was making progress with Lee Yut Lung.