[Author’s Note: roughly a year has passed since the events of the previous episode.]
Daryl rarely frequented bars of his own accord. He remembered what drink had made of his father. Daryl had borne the brunt of it as the only other male in the family, and his efforts to shield his mother and sisters made things worse.
When his dad eventually picked a fight with the wrong guy, Daryl had not been sad. He missed the idea of a father, but not the man. He also recognized the danger that he would inherit his father’s failing. As a result, he exercised great care to avoid temptation when possible.
Unfortunately, circumstance had made such caution difficult. Once conscripted, Daryl was surrounded by men of a far less temperate disposition and found his resolve sorely tried. He did not wish to appear unsociable, but there was little the men did other than drink and gamble.
The soldiers quickly discovered his reticence and made it their mission to get the new kid as drunk as possible as often as possible. This wasn’t from malice or boredom, or at least not predominately so. Nor was it a challenge, as it only took four or five drinks to get the job done.
Most likely, they just couldn’t abide a purity which highlighted their own debasement. This was not to say they felt any resentment. Daryl exhibited humility around his new comrades and was careful never to present his abstinence in a self-righteous light. They weren’t toppling some prick who acted like he was better than them. They simply saw him as a nice kid who needed to fix a problem he had. They were helping him be all he could be.
Daryl was saved by the very attribute which had destroyed his father: he was a nasty drunk. After seeing him this way a couple of times, his colleagues ceased their efforts. They wanted a drinking buddy, not a nasty bastard. Even the few who were spiteful realized it simply wasn’t worth the trouble. Either they would get hurt or he would, and then the unit commander would be furious.
From that point on, the men did what they could to keep Daryl from drinking. When they went into town, something always kept him from joining them. He had to cover for somebody or an urgent task popped up or they’d somehow forget to invite him. At first, Daryl thought the men didn’t like him. By the time he learned the real reason, he already had decided it didn’t matter. He would keep his head down and get through his military stint. He wasn’t like these guys, and he certainly didn’t need to be liked by them.
Ultimately, he came to be grateful for their forbearance, self-serving as it was. Harder comrades would have pushed him until something really bad happened, just because he was younger or prettier or less used-up than they were. Or maybe even just for the hell of it. He had seen that happen to others. Daryl was fortunate enough to have understanding comrades. During his two-odd years of service, he even befriended a couple of them.
Rin was not understanding. Or perhaps she just was cruel. She had explained to Daryl that alcohol did not affect her, but for some reason she loved drinking anyway. And she reveled in plying him with liquor, particularly once she discovered he was a mean drunk.
The same behavior which would terrorize a human girlfriend turned her on. And if he couldn’t perform in such a condition, as inevitably proved the case, Rin exulted in ridiculing his lack of manhood. Daryl sighed. She was not a gentle lover, but she was his lover. Was. There was something exciting about fucking a woman he wished to kill and who occasionally wished to kill him.
Daryl looked around at the bar. It was a dreary establishment, and he wondered what had drawn his father to such places. He wasn’t even sure why he had come here. He didn’t like to drink, and thanked the heavens for this. Even the military hadn’t changed that. Had Rin finally managed to? Had she brought out his father’s curse? Maybe she already had killed him, and he just didn’t know it yet. He always imagined it would be a quicker death, that he would say the wrong thing at the wrong time and end up with a snapped neck or a knife in the eye or something equally dramatic.
The bartender was in no hurry, and Daryl surveyed the bottles on the shelf behind the bar as he tried to pick a drink. To his relief, his stomach turned at the thought. No, she hadn’t done anything to him — or at least not that. Mean drunk or no, he still was not an addict. Just pathetic. That was the reason he was here. He missed Rin, and this was as close to a memory of her as he could conjure. Daryl was disgusted with himself. He was addicted, just not to alcohol.
“Not the talkative sort, eh?”
Aroused from his reverie, Daryl slowly searched out the voice. It came from a woman, and he took a moment to register how impossibly beautiful she was. As beautiful as Rin, in fact — though in a different way. There was a certain innocence about her, the diametric opposite of Rin. She struck Daryl as an ideal sister or wife. Preferably wife, because you don’t get to screw your sister.
Daryl breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps he wasn’t addicted to Rin after all. The woman clearly had been trying to get his attention for some time, and Daryl felt terribly embarrassed. All he could do was squeeze out an apologetic smile.
The bartender slowly shook his head, no doubt shocked that such a woman would deign to speak to Daryl and appalled at his bumbling response. Daryl couldn’t blame him. The man probably watched the inane dance of the sexes all day every day, helplessly suffering through each dismal failure of his fellow man.
Recovering his composure, Daryl offered to buy the woman a drink. The bartender failed to suppress a chuckle. The woman looked at Daryl for a moment, then smiled and pointed at the large beer in front of her. There was no mockery in her eyes, just amusement.
“You’re not very good at this,” she laughed.
“I’m not sure what ‘this’ is.” It wasn’t the smoothest line, but it was what came to mind. Beautiful or no, the woman had approached Daryl. Rin had warned him about such things: to always wonder why he was approached and whether it truly was happenstance. Especially if something seemed too good to be true, and this woman definitely seemed too good to be true.
The woman considered for a second. “You either are a very cautious man by nature or you have been taught to be that way.”
Daryl tensed. It had been well over two months, and he wouldn’t recognize Rin. As tempting as it was to assume that her demeanor or gait or manner of speech would betray her, Daryl knew better. He had been through this before. He remembered the fact, though not the sensation.
The only certainty was that she truly would be unrecognizable. The way she had been explained it, he simply would fail to connect the present Rin with the past Rin. No matter how many clues and how much evidence, he would not make the association. She had made it sound like a law of the universe, and Daryl did not doubt her.
This made him wonder about his present suspicion. Did that law cover speculation as well? Would the universe allow him to be suspicious if it was Rin? Maybe this was proof that it wasn’t her.
He also wasn’t sure whether her unrecognizability extended beyond physical attributes. Her personality certainly was mutable enough on its own, and Daryl had seen her exhibit several distinct personas. Whether she was feigning or acting or simply being was unclear. In fact, he never had been sure of the boundaries which delimited the real Rin. Maybe there were none. He wondered how many different people she had been and whether there even was such a thing as the real Rin.
There simply were too many unknowns. It very well could be her. Daryl gazed into the woman’s eyes.
“Rin?”
The woman smiled. There was no cruelty or contempt in it, but Daryl knew this meant nothing. Rin easily could dissemble when she wanted to, even if she rarely wanted to.
“Rin, this is silly,” he remonstrated, now with greater confidence. “Please say it’s you, so I’ll recognize you.”
The woman’s eyes retained a mischievous glint, and she took a sip of beer before answering.
“I’m not Rin.”
Daryl turned red and was about to stammer an apology, but she put a finger on his lips.
“I’m Sree, and I’ve been looking for you.”
“More precisely, we both want to find Rin,” she clarified. She slowly sipped her beer, carefully watching Daryl’s face. His feelings fluctuated rapidly as he weighed the import of her words.
Apparently the tenor of his thoughts was apparent to Sree. “I’m beyond you. You cannot destroy me. I’m sorry, Daryl,” she quietly explained before returning to her beer.
It astonished Daryl that she would apologize to him for this, and he didn’t quite know how to respond. To his dismay, his mouth moved of its own accord.
“Are you sure? If you know Rin, you can’t be sure.”
Sree sighed. “I’m sure.”
“Then are you above a Four?”
For the first time, Sree gave him an impatient look. “Rin did not train you well if she failed to teach you manners. That is a very rude question to ask.”
There was something hypnotically enticing in her soft voice and deliberate manner of speech.
“I’m sorry. But how do I know you’re not simply playing along?”
Sree seemed amused by the notion. “I knew your name.”
“You could have been coached. I mentioned Rin, not you. You could simply be pretending to know what I’m talking about.”
“And why would I do such a thing?” Sree’s voice sounded like it was on the edge of laughter.
Daryl gave her a long look before replying.
“I don’t know. Maybe to get information. Or maybe you have some dubious hopes.”
As conversant as he had grown in English, this was an unfamiliar idiom. Daryl wasn’t sure he had gotten it right, and this hesitance made its way into his voice.
Sree studied him for a moment and then leaned over and cooed in his ear. “And would that be such a terrible thing? Why don’t we go upstairs and see what sort of dubious hopes I entertain.”
After a discreet glance around the room, Sree tapped gently on the counter and the bartender materialized. Daryl sighed. He had been unable to get the man’s attention before Sree showed up, even as the only customer.
“Would you be a dear, and check with the kitchen whether they have any Soufliase sauce?”
The man looked puzzled, but rushed off to find out.
As soon as he was out of sight, Sree slid her hand down Daryl’s back and into his pants, lingering in certain places until he turned red before pulling back up a bit. Placing her lips tantalizingly close to his own, she drew his hunting knife from its sheath, retracing her hand’s path with the cold flat of the blade. Daryl made no move to stop her. Smiling, she withdrew her lips with a look that told him just what he had missed by failing to meet them.
Examining the knife, Sree resumed her seat. “Not a very good blade.”
Before Daryl could object, she stabbed it into her own hand as hard as she could. It slid off and stuck in the bar counter. With a guilty look, Sree tried to pry the blade loose. Daryl couldn’t help but smile when she stood and struggled to get some leverage.
“A gentleman would help,” she reproached, slightly flustered.
Daryl sipped his drink. “Who said I’m a gentleman?”
With a sigh, he reached over and effortlessly retrieved the blade. The bartender emerged empty-handed, just as Daryl finished resheathing it. Sree gave the man a wry smile, and turned back to Daryl.
“So you see, I was right. They don’t have any.”
The bartender clearly was not pleased to learn he had gone to that trouble for Daryl instead of Sree. He retreated to the opposite end of the bar, where he pretended to watch a game on the television.
“What is Soufliase sauce?” Daryl asked.
Sree grinned. “I have no idea. It sounds French, though, don’t you think?”
Daryl couldn’t help a laugh, and this evidently pleased her. “Loosening up a bit, then?”
“Well, now I know what you are, but not who you are.”
“I told you, I’m Sree. Are you this suspicious because of Rin?” She regarded Daryl with sympathetically wide eyes, and took his hand in hers. “I really hope she hasn’t been too hard on you.”
Daryl withdrew his hand and gave Sree a long look. “I have no quarrel with Rin.”
“Except that you wish to kill her.”
Oooh, is something going to happen between Sree and Daryl? I wouldn't like to think of the bridal shower that Rin would throw...