Chapter Text
It was almost seven in the evening.
And Sonya had a fresh pot of coffee just now brewing.
It wasn't late by her standards, but it was definitely a little late on the coffee front.
She just needed something that would push her through for a few more hours.
And since there was a lack of energy drinks in her fridge, she had to rely on old faithful.
Her current workload was only temporary, so what was a few wasted nights, right?
Then again, this new apartment in the city was also temporary.
As well as all of the furniture that was in it - coffee machine included.
She was living, and working, under temporary conditions.
But as Sonya looked at the mess of paperwork in front of her, she couldn't help but think that this wasn't going to be temporary. She couldn't help but to think, to rationalize, that all of this was probably just the warm-up to the real thing. And that all of this temporary business was just an illusion to see how much she could commit to before someone pulled the rug out from underneath her, and revealed the magician's true trick.
Her kitchen table had seen more work than meals as of late.
It certainly wasn't an ideal office, not even temporarily, but when Sonya first dropped her papers and wide arrange of folders here, it had been out of necessity - and with the promise that she would move things later when she had the time.
Fat luck that did her.
Because now, despite the mess, everything was perfectly organized right here.
She knew where everything was, and she knew where to find what she needed for whenever she needed it.
And she knew that if she moved now, there was no way she would be able to recreate the organization here; and she really didn't want to start over from square one.
So... she was stuck here.
For now.
Temporarily.
Her phone rang over the sound of brewing coffee and flipping papers.
Sonya paused her work just long enough to lean her chair back onto two legs, and snatch the device from the kitchen counter.
She had placed it behind her to keep it out of her work space, and out of her sight.
But she was obviously not strong enough to resist the chance of a much-needed distraction.
That, and she was expecting Jax to call her back at some point tonight.
Sonya glanced at the Caller ID, hoping it to be the man-in-charge, and not the same spam call she had accidentally answered twice now.
But she felt her focus shift when the name that popped up was not the name she was expecting.
Agent Takahashi (Kenshi)
Work fell completely out of her focus as Sonya felt her phone vibrate in her hand now as the call continued to try and come through.
Now this was a surprise.
She hit the accept call button and immediately put it to speakerphone, which was a growing habit of hers as of late.
It helped to keep her hands free so she could continue working through phone calls.
"Kenshi, this is a surprise," Sonya spoke first.
As cheesy as it was, while she was smiling to herself at the sudden phone call, she swore she could also hear the smile in her voice.
"It's almost seven, you're not usually a late caller."
That, and Kenshi usually didn't call her directly.
She worked with Jax.
Jax worked with Kenshi.
Jax was the middle man between the two of them, between Kenshi's business with the O.W.I.A, and her business with the Special Forces. He had been the one to call the shots, to make the contracts, to try and bring the two businesses in and have them work together. Jax had always been savvy with how he worked, and how he worked with the people around him.
If you needed something, you called Jax.
Sonya could count on one hand the amount of times Kenshi had called her on his own.
And none of those calls had exactly been work-related.
Despite the work in front of her, she was hoping this call would be no different.
She heard a quiet chuckle on the other end.
"You and I both know this isn't considered late," Kenshi replied.
There was a loose tone in his voice, like he might've been drinking.
Not enough to get drunk on, but enough to get a little tipsy - tipsy enough to call her, maybe?
He was a casual drinker, maybe more social than anything.
Sonya had dragged him out to the bar a few times for a quick beer when they were riding back from the Special Forces base. Kenshi humored her in going along, although he always appeared to enjoy himself every time they were out. She did take notice that whenever he was out with her, he ordered a beer, but if they went out with Jax, he leaned more towards getting wine or a mixed drink.
She had yet to crack the code on that one.
If he had been drinking now, however, part of her hoped he was calling to invite her out to finish the job.
God knows she could use a break.
Or maybe he was calling for a different reason.
One that required a little liquid courage.
"Maybe," Sonya admitted. "What are you calling for? Is Jax not picking up his phone?"
She opted to keep things professional for now.
And not let her wandering mind make something out of nothing.
"Actually yeah, that is why," Kenshi remarked.
A verbal torpedo into her hypothetical night.
"Listen, this is kind of embarrassing, but since Jax isn't picking up, you're the only other person I could think to call - at least in the city anyway - and I need a favor."
Okay, so it was something work-related, unfortunately, if he was trying to get into contact with Jax.
But the rest of his statement was still encouraging.
"Ooh, this should be good," she teased. "Alright, lay it on me, big guy."
Sonya heard him give an audible sigh on the other end.
And she couldn't help but wonder now what exactly Kenshi wanted to ask that he seemingly needed to work himself up to asking.
"I'm at the hospital right now, and the social worker won't sign me out unless I have someone who can pick me up," he started. "I obviously can't drive myself, and they don't want me on public transport, so I'm kind of stuck here."
There wasn't even a chance for Sonya to feel disappointed over the situation, over the loss of a second chance.
She just felt blindsided by his response.
"What - why are you at the hospital?!" Sonya pressed. "Is it serious?! Are you okay?"
She was already at her feet before he answered.
"It's a long story. I'll tell you if you come pick me up," Kenshi offered.
"Deal."
For the entire drive to the hospital, her mind was flooded and plagued with question after question after question.
And of course, as if she wasn't stressed enough about getting there, it felt like she hit every red light on the way over - which did not help with her mood.
She ran the last two lights just to ease the tension.
By the time Sonya made it to the hospital, and pulled into the patient pick-up zone, she was more than ready to go inside and hunt down whoever she needed to in order to get answers. Although, admittedly, she didn't really know what to expect.
Kenshi could've been here for any range of reasons.
She didn't exactly press him that hard for an answer, but Kenshi didn't really give her a chance either.
He had been fairly quick and direct about the whole thing, without giving her much leeway into prodding him about it.
For all she knew, he could've been here for something simple.
Maybe he got sick.
Maybe he cut himself on Sento and just needed a few stitches for it.
Maybe his prosthetic eye fell out.
None of those were really severe enough for the hospital to hold him until someone could pick him up, but he was blind. It was possible the staff was just being overly cautious with him; most likely so they could avoid any kind of liability should something happen to him when he left.
Sonya could definitely understand them not wanting him to get on a public bus after all.
Kenshi liked to walk too, and she imagined that, whatever condition he was in, the staff didn't want that happening either.
Sonya shifted the truck into park and jumped out.
Just as she was rounding the front of the vehicle though, she watched as Kenshi stepped out through the nearby sliding doors.
He was dressed in what looked to be his usual slacks and shoes, but he was wearing an oversized jacket with them, which was unusual for him. Everything he owned, from what she had seen of his wardrobe, was tailored to fit; he hardly wore anything that was loose. She had cracked a few jokes on him for it, but he always replied that he knew what he looked good in.
For what it was worth, Kenshi looked well-coordinated, or at least, well-choreographed, with the cane in his right-hand as he walked - which was something he had to train himself to do.
He didn't need the cane to find his way around.
It wasn't even a real one to begin with.
Jax had gotten an elaborate case made to hide Sento in for whenever Kenshi was out in public.
Sonya knew Kenshi hated it, but he was willing to use it in order to bypass suspicion.
After all, not everyone needed to know about his connection to Sento, and all of the special perks that came with it. And unless either Jax, or herself, were with him, it looked a bit odd for a blind man to navigate his way around without any help, especially in more complex settings; although Kenshi was adamant that it really wasn't anyone's business how he did things.
He could very easily portray himself as a sight-seeing person.
But his tendency of wearing sunglasses inside typically gave him away.
And without the sunglasses, the obvious facial scarring underneath them did the trick.
But also, no one wanted to see a guy walking around with a sword in broad daylight - that was never good news.
Sonya wasn't the slightest bit surprised that Kenshi had picked up on her presence the moment she pulled in.
Ever since he called, he had probably been waiting for the slightest hint of her to pop up on his radar.
Then again, as self-proclaimed by the swordsman himself, her truck was loud as fuck so he might've just heard it rolling in.
"My apologies for the late call," Kenshi started. "The discharge papers were signed this morning, but things kept coming up, and they kept wanting to call someone else in - and now it's seven in the evening."
His voice still had that loose tone to it.
And Sonya was now realizing it was probably due to exhaustion from having been here all day.
He sounded a bit irritated as well, which she wasn't surprised by.
Kenshi wasn't wearing his usual sunglasses, or his less-than-usual blindfold.
And in their absence was a very obvious medical patch that had been taped over his left eye - or rather, over the placement of his left eye.
So maybe she had been right in that something had happened with his prosthetic.
Kenshi had mentioned before how he had the eye prosthetics implanted, and that while it had been a fairly painless process, the prosthetics did irritate him from time to time. Which, looking at the man, was hard to believe, given how little he seemed to pay attention to them on a day-to-day basis. Or at least, she had never picked up on any kind of irritation he might've had towards them. He had rubbed at his prosthetics before, but that seemed more like it was out of habit, rather than something done out of irritation.
That being said, Kenshi had, once before, and entirely unprompted, pulled one of his fake eyes out of his socket.
And Sonya had almost slapped it out of his hand in surprise.
If things had been left at that, at what looked to be a minor correction, Sonya would've been content.
A minor prosthetic fix on its own was a self-contained issue.
But it was the jagged cuts that littered the right side of his face that kept that knot in her stomach.
And were what probably held truth to his claim of a long story.
"That's hospital bureaucracy for you," Sonya replied, keeping herself restrained for now, as she walked over to him. "Do I need to check you out somewhere? Or talk to someone?"
"I've already spoken to the staff, and I've technically been discharged for hours, so I'm leaving with or without them knowing," Kenshi remarked. "I'm sure they can check the security footage if they get really concerned about me."
She chuckled at his clearly irritated remark.
But she had been stuck in that discharge cycle before, she knew how frustrating it could be.
The hospital either kicked you to the curb immediately, or they strung you around hour-by-hour.
Whoever was supposed to be manning the patient discharge room, whether it was a technician or a security guard, must have stepped away for a moment, hence giving Kenshi an opening to leave on his own.
No one could say her timing wasn't impeccable.
"Alright, well let's get you out of here before they come looking for you," she ushered.
Sonya turned back to her truck and moved ahead of Kenshi to pull the passenger door open for him.
And when she turned back to him, Kenshi had more or less abandoned the image of using his cane, opting to hold it by the shaft instead, which was how he would normally hold Sento. The whole 'not touching the ground' thing defeated the purpose of the cane, which was one of the reasons he was so annoyed by using it.
"You need any help?" Sonya offered.
"Hopefully not."
Kenshi got himself up and into the truck well enough, but Sonya immediately picked up that something was off with him.
He had been in her truck before, and he always used his left arm to pull himself in so that he could keep Sento in his right hand. It was something minor she had taken note of; whenever he couldn't carry Sento on his back, he always defaulted to his right hand. She had offered to hold Sento for him once before, so that both of his hands would be free, but Kenshi had turned her down; he insisted that he didn't want anyone touching Sento but him.
Which, given the history, and how long it had taken him to recover Sento, she understood his reasoning.
This time, however, Kenshi moved Sento into his left hand and used his right arm to pull himself in.
Sonya tried not to linger on the difference.
It was probably nothing, but she made a note of it anyway.
She closed the truck door once he was settled inside, and moved back around the front to get to the driver's side.
Climbing into her own seat, she noticed that Kenshi struggled a little with the seat belt, and even winced when he pulled it in front of himself.
"You alright?" Sonya asked, a little more direct this time.
"I'm fine," Kenshi assured, matching her tone.
Red flag number two.
She settled in, and shifted the truck out of park before she pulled out of the pick-up zone.
"You need me to run you by the pharmacy, or did the nurses get all of that handled for you?" Sonya continued to ask. "I can't imagine they didn't give you painkillers or anything for that eye."
As frustrating as it was that she kept having to push for answers, she couldn't say that she was surprised either.
Kenshi kept a tight lip about things, especially in regards to himself.
He was a private guy, which she could understand, especially given his circumstances.
But also, given the current circumstances, she felt like he could ease up a little and give her something more to work with.
"It's all been handled," he answered, "- which was one good thing to come out of being strung around all day."
Fair.
"So are you going to give me this story of yours, or are you going to ghost me as soon as I drop you off at your place?" Sonya questioned.
She kept her tone light to imply it as a tease.
And Kenshi gave a chuckle in response, which thankfully meant he had picked up on her tone.
"Someone broke into my apartment the other night and stabbed me with a screwdriver."
Sonya was glad she was still in the hospital parking lot.
Because the squealing of the brakes, followed by the hard stop of the truck would have been detrimental on the actual street.
"Someone WHAT?!"
Despite her initial shock, and resulting knee-jerk reaction, Sonya regretted slamming on the brakes so quickly when she saw Kenshi grimace and put a hand to his chest. Given that he didn't move much in his seat, despite the sudden stop, she was under the impression that he had anticipated some kind of reaction to his statement.
Or possibly due to his injuries, he was already trying not to move that much and wasn't going to budge under any circumstances unless absolutely necessary.
"Believe me, I was just as surprised," Kenshi replied.
There was a slight strain in his voice now when he spoke.
"I took a couple of stabs, nothing serious - everything was mostly superficial damage, thankfully."
Okay, well now she felt even worse.
"Even your eye?" Sonya asked, even though she was pretty certain she knew the answer to that.
"No, that one did damage the prosthetic, but again, nothing serious," Kenshi answered. "It tore some of the muscle in the socket, but the surgeon was able to stitch it back in place. It should heal up fine as-is, but I had to get a temporary prosthetic placed in for the time being, at least until the swelling goes down. So nothing I haven't already gone through."
There was a touch of silence before he opted to add.
"Actually this time was a lot less painful than the first time."
She wasn't surprised by his attempt at a joke.
If the whole reveal hadn't caught her off-guard like it did, she might have laughed at it.
"And they still discharged you like this?" Sonya questioned.
"Like I said, it was mostly just superficial damages," Kenshi repeated. "They kept me for a day for observation, but it's really just a couple of stitches."
She had a feeling he was both telling the truth, but also downplaying the situation.
The hospital wouldn't discharge him if they thought he still needed medical attention.
But it was probably a little more than just a couple of stitches.
"The guy had shit aim and used a shitty weapon," he concluded.
"I don't know, picking a screwdriver over a knife sounds kind of personal," Sonya remarked.
"I have my suspicions."
Yeah, somehow, she wasn't surprised that he did.
With what vague information she knew about him, at least in regards to his personal life, Kenshi seemed to have a lot of enemies in high and low places. He never mentioned anything directly, but she had picked up on a few comments here and there about it, especially if he seemed on edge about something.
"Well, I hate to say it, Kenshi, but I can't wait to get you home and listen to the full story on this one," Sonya spoke.
She put her foot back on the gas pedal now and slowly rolled the truck through the parking lot, working her way to the closest street exit.
She was bound to cause a back up if she stayed in place.
"I know you can take care of yourself, but why don't you let me stay with you?" she offered. "At least for the first night, and see how you do."
From the corner of her eye, Sonya caught the slight uncomfortable shift Kenshi made in the passenger seat.
And she didn't think it was from the truck moving.
"I'm not going to make fun of your apartment, I promise," she teased. "I lived in the barracks for years, I've seen worse-"
Sonya stopped herself mid-sentence as their prior conversation dawned on her.
"Oh," she started, grimacing as she did, "- your apartment is uh - technically a crime scene, huh?"
"I don't know if it still is, but it was two days ago," Kenshi nodded.
"How long does it take to clean up a little blood?" Sonya asked. "Actually, I think they make you handle the clean-up yourself now, or at least, it becomes the apartment manager's issue - at the very least, insurance will cover something. I guess it's really not important right now. I don't know if you can even go back if the cops haven't closed the case yet. Have you heard anything? Do they have a suspect?"
With how quickly she began to dismantle the topic, and ask questions about it, she couldn't be surprised as to why Kenshi kept some things to himself.
"They have a body."
It took a moment before his words clued her in.
"A body - you killed the other person?"
"I was getting stabbed," Kenshi reiterated. "And I think you know as well as anyone that I'm not exactly a helpless blind man sitting at home. I was caught off-guard, yes, but I got the upper hand pretty quick in the situation."
That was true.
He had the whole telekinesis power thing going on.
Sonya had only seen him do it in a fight once, and it was a blink-of-the-eye kind of thing.
She had seen him use his telekinesis for mundane things too, however, like grabbing his coffee cup from the other side of the room, or using it to push things out of his way. He had used it to tease her once by holding her car keys just out of her reach, dangling them just above her fingertips.
To her, it seemed more like a quality of life kind of power, and less like one used in combat - although she could see where the overlap could happen.
"Okay, change of plans," she spoke, "- you're coming home with me."
"It's fine, I was going to get a hotel-" Kenshi started.
"Oh no, no, you are coming home with me."