#yong is probably standing on a stool

[dailymarshtomp]

last pair! merry christmas!

[alkae]

Green Isn’t Your Color

“A ball?”

The boys all gaped at Nuru as she announced that the next kingdom they were going to was hosting a ball and, as a princess, she was invited to join in on the pleasantries.

And since she really, obviously, didn’t like her friends, she invited them too. Yong, however, seemed excited. “Will there be food?” he asked.

Nuru nodded enthusiastically. “Oh the best food.”

He grabbed Varian’s sleeve. “Varian, we have to go!”

Hugo snorted to himself as Varian looked down uncomfortably. “I, uh, I don’t really like parties that much. Especially the ones that require socialization.”

“Varian, all parties require socialization.”

“Exactly.” He looked up at Nuru. “I didn’t even really attend my friends’ wedding. I asked specifically to be in charge of fireworks because I didn’t want to sit in a crowded church.”

Hugo remembered Varian mentioning that before. He had laughed at him then and now, he felt a little guilty laughing.

Just a little.

“Goggles,” he drawled, “are you that terrified of meeting new people?”

Varian locked eyes with him and Hugo took the time to admire how blue they were. “Yes.”

Nuru sighed. “Varian, please. I really don’t want to go alone. And plus, if you say yes, then Hugo will say yes.”

“He will?”

“I will?” This was news to Hugo.

“He agrees to everything that you agree to,” Nuru explained. “If you do it, he’ll do it.”

Varian bit his lip. “I don’t know…”

Yong pulled at Varian’s sleeve. “You don’t have to talk to anyone. You can hang out with me and Hugo by the snack table.”

Hugo saw Nuru’s lips purse but she said nothing. Varian smiled slightly. “Okay. But we don’t have any nice clothes.”

“Clearly,” Hugo said. Varian glared at him.

Nuru stood and Yong followed. “Well, we’ll visit a shop and have outfits made for you. I’ll need new clothes too. I don’t think this will cut it.” She gestured to her dress.

“I think it’s pretty,” Yong said. Nuru smiled at him.

Varian stood too. Hugo remained sitting, watching Varian closely. He still seemed uncomfortable. “Alright,” he agreed. “I could use some more clothes.”

The three of them look over at Hugo expectantly. He shrugged. “As long as you’re paying, princess.”

She threw a stick at him and Hugo laughed.

The group arrived in town and went into a nearby dress shop.

Hugo crinkled his nose. “Why are we at a dress shop, princess?”

“I need a dress. Plus, they don’t just sell dresses here. They have suits.” She makes a wide motion with her arm. “Go on, Hugo. Take Varian and look around.” She accompanied this last statement with a smirk. He glared.

Nuru knew that he liked Varian. Yong probably did too but Nuru most likely swore him to silence. Or she bribed him. Probably that.

Varian and Hugo initially only looked at dresses as a joke. Varian pulled a long, poofy, lacy hot pink dress off the rack and held it up to him. Even if Varian was to wear it, it would’ve been too long for him. It dragged on the floor. “How do I look?” he asked.

Hugo gave him a once over. “Beautiful. You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Varian snorted and put the dress back. He pulled another one out, this one a bright yellow. “How about this?”

“It’s perfect. If you want to look like the sun.”

Varian laughed. “Maybe that’s the point.”

“You’re already hard enough to look at, hairstripe, don’t make it harder,” Hugo retorted. Varian shot him a warning look before he put the dress back on the rack. He looked at one that was actually very beautiful. It was a nice shade of turquoise with fine gold trim. “Wow. Do you think Nuru would like this?”

Hugo examined it. “No. She’s a purple kind of girl. Plus, I doubt she’d wear anything that doesn’t have stars on it.”

To his surprise, Varian didn’t argue. He continued to stare at the dress. “I like the colors,” he said. “I wonder if there’s something like this in a suit instead.”

“We do,” a voice said behind them. They turned to see a girl with long dirty blonde hair worn in a low ponytail and deep brown eyes with a tape measure draped on her shoulders like a scarf smiling at them. Well, not them. Just Varian.

Hugo felt something hot boiling in his stomach as he noticed the way she looked at him.

Varian smiled back. “Oh cool! I, uh, take it you work here?”

The girl nodded. “Yes. I’m Eleanor. You can call me Lenor. I’m the dress maker’s assistant. She’s currently helping out your friend. The princess, right?”

Was she eavesdropping on their conversation? Hugo scowled at her as Varian seemed to just blow past this. “Yeah, Princess Nuru. She’s actually why we’re here today. See, she was invited to a ball and she wants us to be her guests.”

Lenor’s eyes brightened. “You guys are going to the ball?”

“He just said that,” Hugo grumbled. Varian elbowed him. Lenor’s face soured slightly but she said nothing. “Anyway, we’re just here to get some nice clothes and then bounce. So if you don’t mind showing my friend here the suit so we can pay for it and leave, that would be great.”

“Hugo,” Varian hissed. “I’m sorry about him. Oh and uh, yeah, that’s Hugo. I’m Varian.”

“Nice to meet you Varian.” Lenor paused. “And uh, you too, Hugo.”

Hugo rolled his eyes. “Uh huh.”

Lenor pushed on, focusing only on Varian. “Anyway, I’d be happy showing you the suit. We have some in the back, I think. I just need your size.” She grinned deviously as she grabbed Varian’s arm and led him off. Hugo followed reluctantly. She better not try anything.

Varian stood on a stool as Lenor “measured” him. Hugo slouched in the background, arms crossed and pouting. Lenor certainly was making the most of this. She was currently scraping her arms over his chest under the guise of “measuring”, leaning in close so their cheeks practically collided. Hugo watched as she “tripped” and nearly knocked Varian off the stool. “Oops,” she giggled. “Sorry.”

Lucky for her, Varian was very nice. He just smiled and said, “Oh, no problem!”

Hugo made a noise. “Are we finished here?” he asked. He didn’t bother to keep the snark out of his voice. Lenor shot him a nasty look before pasting on her happy face again.

“Oh yes! But unfortunately, we are out of suits in your size.” She batted her eyelashes at Varian innocently. Hugo repressed the urge to gag. “However, if you come back here later, we can make one for you.”

“I wouldn’t want to be trouble…” Varian started but Lenor cut him off.

“No trouble at all.” She batted her eyes at him again. Hugo scowled. “How about you come by at around 5ish? I should be here.”

“Sure, sounds like a plan.”

Hugo decided to butt in. “Okay, Hairstripe, I think it’s time we headed out. Nuru’s giving us a dirty look from the other side of the store.” She wasn’t but he needed some excuse to pull Varian away. Varian smiled at Lenor apologetically and something inside Hugo simmered.

“I’ll see you at 5?” he asked her.

She grinned. “It’s a date.”

Varian waved and turned. “Nuru’s calling us over. Come on.” Huh. So she was eyeing them angrily. Convenient.

Instead of going with Varian, he and Lenor stared at each other, locked in a silent battle. “Look,” Lenor said. “I’m sure you’re his close friend and all. But it’s completely wrong to keep us apart when it’s so clear that we’re destined to be together.”

Hugo wrinkled his nose. “You just met.”

“Haven’t you heard of love at first sight, Herbert?”

Herbert? Oh she did not. “I have indeed, Luna, but I’ve been told that only fools rush in.”

Lenor rolled her eyes. This certainly wasn’t the nice, helpful girl she was just seconds ago. “Whatever. Just stay out of our way. Nothing will stop us from getting together and if you try, I will destroy you.”

Hugo eyed her. She hardly went up to his chest. “I’m terrified, Lexi. Now, I must go. My friend, Varian, is waiting for me.” He turned to leave but stopped and turned back around. With one hand, he did a cocky little wave at her. “See you at 5, babe?”

She gave him a rude gesture and he laughed and stalked off. Oh he was so accompanying Varian when he came back here. If only to annoy Lenor some more.

At 5, Varian and Hugo went back to the shop where Lenor was waiting eagerly at the door like a puppy waiting for their master.

“Hello, Varian!” she said. She gave Hugo a once over. “You.”

He looked at her coolly. “You.”

Varian, socially oblivious boy that he was, just started walking to the back of the store. Lenor mouthed, “I will destroy you.”

Hugo mouthed back, “I’d love to see you try.”

She made an “ugh” gesture and whipped around. “Are you ready for your fitting, Varian?” Her voice was annoyingly sweet.

Varian smiled at her. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, albeit a little nervously. He sat on the stool. “So, uh, how, uh, how long will this take, Lenor?”

Varian wasn’t close to her but Hugo was and he heard her whisper, “As long as it takes to make you mine.” She pointedly glared at Hugo who scoffed.

“You don’t own him,” he whispered back.

“Neither do you,” she hissed.

“Uh, Lenor? Hugo?”

Varian was perched on the stool, adorably awkward. Lenor straightened and smoothed her skirt. “Right! Sorry, Vari.”

She was already giving him pet names? Not for the first time that day, Hugo’s nose wrinkled. That, her whispering, and the fact that she touched him excessively while “measuring” him set off warning lights in Hugo’s head.

Speaking of which, she was already touching him. Her measuring tape wasn’t even out. “Alright! I’ll get the fabric and be right back.” She flounced off to the backroom as Hugo made his way to the back and stood in front of Varian.

He gave a small smile to Hugo. “She seems nice.” He seemed uncertain.

Hugo shrugged. “She’s got energy,” he said.

Varian laughed. “Well, I mean, you aren’t wrong.”

Hugo felt himself smile. Just a little. “When have I ever been wrong, Goggles?”

Varian tapped his chin in false thought. “Hmmm, I wonder?”

Hugo lightly pushed Varian. “That was a rhetorical question.” Varian laughed again and it sounded like music.

“I’m back!” Hugo startled when he saw Lenor standing behind Varian, a bundle of fabric clutched in her hands. Her smile was wide and forced and when Varian turned back around, her stare was withering as she looked at Hugo. He raised his hands innocently. He did nothing. Was it a crime to talk to his friend/longtime crush?

Lenor set the cloth down. “Alright, Varian. I’m going to need you to change your clothes into this-” She held up a skin tight, plain white outfit that Hugo had seen people wear while they were getting fitted, so he gave her that. “-and then we’ll get started.”

Varian took it from her hestitantly. He looked at Hugo, a silent question passing between them. Hugo nodded in affirmation and Varian stood to go to the changing room.

“Where are you going?” Lenor asked.

Varian hesitated. “Uh, to change?”

Hugo butted in. “What, you want him to just strip here in the store?” He liked Varian too, but he accepted that a man must have his dignity. Lenor appropriately flushed and shook her head. Varian smiled appreciatively at Hugo and then rushed off to change. This left Hugo and Lenor alone, which wasn’t a very good idea.

“So,” he said.

“So,” she said.

“Is there a reason you’re obsessively touching him?” he asked.

Lenor blushed again. “It’s my job, Henry!”

Hugo scoffed again. “Your job should not require that much physical contact without a needle, cloth and/or measuring tape, Leandra.”

Her blush deepened. “Shut up.”

He crossed his arms. “I’m fine if you flirt with him.” That was a bit of a lie. “But refrain from being a creep, please and thank you.”

“I am not being a creep,” she snapped.

“Then stop touching him obsessively.”

Lenor huffed and then crossed her arms. “Fine. To prove that I’m not a creep, I won’t touch him for anything except my job. Happy?”

He smiled cheekily. “Thrilled.”

They were at a standstill again when Varian came back, face red at the tightness of the undergarments he was required to wear for his fitting. Hugo whistled. “Looking good, Hairstripe. Very ball ready.”

Varian glared at him and shoved his clothes at Hugo. Even though he wasn’t wearing his clothes, he looked extremely naked without his gloves and goggles. Hugo found himself looking for them subconsciously. “Can I not call you Goggles now?”

Varian shoved him, lightly. “Be quiet, Hugo.” But there was a slight lift to his lips. He went to stand on the stool, visibly uncomfortable. Lenor picked up the fabric and grinned.

“Alright! Let’s get started shall we?”

The fitting was rather uneventful. Hugo was mostly staring at the wall but was occasionally drawn to Varian and his nervous face. To calm him, Hugo gave a not helpful thumbs up which distracted Varian from the fitting by annoying him.

Finally, Lenor put down the needle and stepped back. “Okay. I think we’re about done here, Vari.”

Hugo looked up to see Varian, standing there in a turquoise suit with golden trim and a white dress shirt. It was just a suit but something about the color matching with the stripe of blue in Varian’s hair and the way it brought out the blue in Varian’s eyes made his jaw drop slightly. He picked it up before Varian noticed.

“Looking good,” he said again, this time serious.

Varian picked at his sleeve. Lenor batted his hand away. “Don’t do that,” she scolded but she sounded as in awe as Hugo was.

They were just clothes but somehow, Varian seemed… older. Handsomer. More confident, even as his expression was worried and anxious. He mustered up a somewhat happy expression that he aimed only at Hugo. “Really?”

Hugo nodded. “Now all you need is goggles and gloves and boom, you’re all set!”

Varian narrowed his eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

Lenor clasped her hands. “Well, you’re all set. Just one thing.”

Hugo was immediately suspicious. “And what’s that?”

She gave him a nasty look before saying, “There’s a loose strand on the back of the suit. Now I would just do it now but it’s in a place that may hurt if I poke you. So I’ll take the suit, fix it and you can pick it up tomorrow?” Her face was innocent but her eyes were scheming.

And Varian just nodded in agreement. “Sounds good. Thank you, Lenor.”

She gushed at the compliment. “It’s my pleasure, Varian. Anything you need, just ask.”

Hugo exhaled loudly through his nose in frustration. “Right. Now, why don’t you change, Hairstripe, and we can head back to Nuru and Yong before they send out a search party.”

Varian changed and Lenor and Hugo got in a few extra glares before Varian and Hugo left. On their way out, Lenor called after them, “Noon, okay?”

Varian waved. “Noon it is!”

Hugo could see her smug look from 5 feet away. The door closed behind them and they were out in the town. Just the two of them. Hugo cleared his throat. “So, Hairstripe. What do you say we get dinner?”

This statement made Varian give Hugo a questioning look. “You want to buy something? Well that’s new.”

“Don’t insult me, I’m trying to be nice.”

Varian’s look was skeptical but he didn’t protest. He looked more like himself now, with the goggles pushed into his hair and his gloves that were stained with who knows what. Even though he looked amazing in the suit, he looked even better as himself.

The two went to a nearby shop where Varian ordered and Hugo paid. They made sure to get some food for Nuru and Yong so the two weren’t completely left out. However, they still sat at a table together and ate their food. It was pretty empty so there were a lot of tables around.

Through a mouth full of sandwich, Varian said, “You still need to get a suit, Hugo.”

Hugo picked out some tomato from his sandwich. “What, you’re saying this isn’t ball worthy, Hairstripe?” He gestured to his clothes, which were also slightly stained from an experiment. “I am insulted. Insulted, I say!”

Varian snort laughed and then choked a little on his sandwich. Swallowing, he said, “Come on. You know you like buying nice things. When we pick up my suit tomorrow, we’ll find one for you.”

Hugo disliked the idea of giving Lenor any more business, especially after Varian, Yong and Nuru (as Hugo predicted, she did buy a purple dress with stars on it) already bought from her. But then he reasoned that she didn’t own the store and she was an assistant. So he might as well.

Then he wondered why an assistant was doing a fitting instead of the owner of the store. He chewed his sandwich in thought.

Varian continued. “You’re the only one without a nice outfit. There must be something for you.”

Hugo raised a brow. “Nothing will make me look nicer than I already look.” He took another bite and winced as he tasted tomato. “Just get me something green and call it a day.”

Green was what Hugo wore everyday. Similar to how Varian wore blue, Nuru wore purple and Yong wore red. But Varian still looked him up and down and then leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know, Hugo. Green just isn’t your color.”

Hugo gasped. “Hairstripe! I am appalled!”

But Varian was laughing and his laughter was contagious and soon they found themselves laughing together in a sandwich shop.

Soon, they finished and headed back to where they were staying, Yong and Nuru’s sandwiches in tow. “In all seriousness,” Varian said suddenly, “I think you look pretty good in green.”

Surprised, Hugo turned and tried to read Varian’s expression. He was looking straight ahead, face purposefully blank.

Hugo couldn’t help the goofy grin that creeped its way onto his face. “And you,” he said, praying he had the boldness, “look decent in turquoise.”

Now Varian let that smile loose, the one that showed off his buckteeth that he admitted to be a little embarrassed about. “I’m an adult,” he had said to Hugo one day. “I shouldn’t have these. They’re not cute in adulthood.”

Hugo had paused and then replied, “I don’t know, Hairstripe. Adults beavers look pretty cute with them.”

Varian had thrown a stick or something at him that day but he could tell that Varian was feeling better about himself.

The two walked back together, both grinning to themselves. And Hugo didn't even mind getting yelled at about being late that much.

The next day, Varian and Hugo found themselves back at the dress shop.

Instead of going straight to Lenor, Varian dragged Hugo through the racks, searching for a suit for him. “This would go faster if you would help,” Varian said, annoyed, as Hugo stood, arms crossed, behind him.

“I’d love to, Hairstripe, but this really isn’t my thing.”

“Hugo!”

“Alright!” Just to make Varian happy, Hugo fake looked through the racks, barely skimming through the suits. He didn’t really want to go to the ball. He didn’t think he could stand seeing Varian looking like that for an entire night. But to make Varian and Nuru and possibly Yong happy, he decided to go along with them.

“Hey, what about this?” Varian asked. Hugo looked up, ready with a quip, when he stopped short. Because, dammit, the suit actually looked good. It was green with silver trim and a matching green tie with a crisp white shirt to go along with it. And the suit looked relatively shiny and nice, something that won Hugo over immediately.

He gingerly took it from Varian and, subtly, checked the price and the size. It was perfect. What diety came down and blessed him with this suit? How was the day going so right so far? This never happened.

“Vari!”

Oh wait. Nevermind.

Hugo’s face soured as he spotted Lenor bounding over to them like an overexcited horse seeing their rider. He noticed Varian’s face falter slightly too. “Hey, Lenor.”

She stopped right in front of him, nearly colliding with him. “I’m so glad to see you! You’re suit’s all done and in the back. Come on, I’ll show it to you!” Lenor led Varian and Hugo to the backroom where, low and behold, there sat the suit. “Tada! Do you like it?”

Varian nodded. “It’s amazing, Lenor. I’m impressed.”

Hugo folded the green suit over his arm, faking boredness. “Yes, well done, Luan. Now how’s about we pay for this and head out?”

Lenor made a face but Varian agreed and the three headed up to the register to pay. But before they could finish and leave, Lenor stopped them. “Hey, Vari, I saw you at the sandwich shop last night.”

Varian and Hugo both paused. “What? Really?” Varian asked.

She nodded. “Yes! I didn’t know you liked Kylian’s Sandwich Shop. Maybe we could go there sometime.”

“Oh, uh.” Varian fiddled with his gloves. “I’m sorry but I’m not sure I have the time, Lenor. I mean the ball is tonight and right after, we have to leave.”

Lenor sighed. “Oh the ball.” She sighed again, dramatically. Hugo eyed her skeptically. “I always wanted to go but, alas, a dress maker’s assistant would never get an invitation.”

Hugo saw where this was going but couldn’t get a word in before Varian said, “Well why don’t you come with us?”

Hugo was shaking his head no as Lenor lit up. “Oh really? You’d take me? Oh, Vari, that is so sweet!”

This time, Hugo did interrupt. “We’re going as a group, Lori. That means we’ll have to check to see if it’s okay with Nuru and Yong before you can actually go.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine with it,” Varian said. Hugo shot him an annoyed look. Was he really doing this? Did he really want Lenor to come with them to the ball?

Lenor clasped her hands. “I would love to go, Vari. Why don’t you and, uh, your group come down and pick me up around a quarter to 7? That would give us enough time to get there.”

Varian nodded as Hugo put his face in his hands. “Sounds good. We’ll meet you there.”

On their way out, Hugo resisted the urge to scream at Varian. Did he seriously want a total stranger to come with them to the ball?

“Hairstripe,” he said through gritted teeth. “What the fuck?”

Varian stared straight forward. “I was being nice, Hugo. It’s not hard.”

“She’s a stranger! Who may have stalked yo-us. And you’re inviting her to the ball? Are you kidding?”

Varian stopped and sighed. “Look, Hugo, I know you two don’t like each other. But please, give her a bit of a chance.”

“What? Why?”

“I gave you a chance, didn’t I?” Varian reminded him. Hugo fell silent. Varian pressed on. “You stole the totem when we first met and you were a total stranger who ‘schmoozed’ his way into our group. But I still trusted you.”

“And you trust her?” Hugo asked.

Varian shrugged helplessly. “I… she reminds me a bit of me. She’s clearly not used to other people and I was just like her. I want to give her the chance to be our friend, Hugo. I want to give her the kindness I never received.” He looked up at Hugo, eyes big and blue and lovely. “Please let me give her that chance.”

Hugo bit his lip. As much as he didn’t like Lenor, as much as he didn’t trust her, he knew that Varian had a big heart and didn’t trust easy. So if he thought she could change and be better… “Okay, Hairstripe. But if she turns out to be a murderer…”

“I’ll know how to deal with it,” Varian finished. He smiled at Hugo and it was so kind that it melted his heart. “Thank you.”

Hugo shrugged and continued forward. “You did the same for me.”

“Are you boys ready?”

Yong stumbled out of the bathroom, tie undone and hair messy. Nuru sighed. “Honestly, Yong,” she said as she tied his tie for him.

Hugo was already dressed, tie done, hair slicked back, and jacket buttoned. Nuru looked at him with begrudging approval. “You look nice, Hugo.”

Nuru was wearing a long, elegant purple dress with star patterns on the bottom. She wore her signature clip in her hair, which she pulled back. “You look nice too, princess.”

She smoothed her dress. “Thank you. Now, we just need Varian.”

And speak of the devil, there he was, coming out of the bathroom with a hand shoved in his pocket awkwardly. He looked as he did in the store but nicer, what with his hair done and maybe something was done to his face too, because he looked radiant.

Hugo was staring. He knew it. And Varian was staring too.

“Uh,” Varian said. He cleared his throat. “I picked the right suit, huh?”

Hugo breathed a laugh. “Don’t give yourself too much credit, Hairstripe.” Then, kinder, he said, “You clean up good.”

There was a slight reddening to Varian’s cheeks. “You look good too, Hugo.”

They stood there, staring at each other for seemingly forever until Nuru clapped her hands. “Okay boys! We need to pick up Lenor and then to the ball.”

Varian was nervous about wrecking his suit but Nuru assured him that he couldn’t possibly ruin it in the 5 minutes it took to walk to the dress shop. When the entered, they saw Lenor with her hair braided wearing a seafoam dress with a bow around the waist. “You look nice, Lenor,” Varian said. Hugo pointedly adjusted his tie.

Lenor sighed breathily. “And you look amazing, Vari.”

Hugo caught Yong mouthing to Nuru, “Vari?” Nuru shrugged. Hugo coughed. “Shall we?” He locked eyes with Lenor, who provided him with an icy stare.

The walk to the castle surprisingly wasn’t very long either. Lenor talked to Varian the entire way, leaving Hugo with Nuru and Yong, both of whom were confused. Yong whispered to Hugo, “Is she Varian’s girlfriend?”

Hugo glanced over his shoulder to see Varian uncomfortably walking at Lenor’s side, eyes wide. “I’m guessing not.”

“Then why is she acting like it?”

Hugo shrugged and that was that.

The ball was bustling by the time they arrived and Nuru was immediately called on by the king and queen. She dragged Yong with her, claiming that he could distract them with his explosions when the conversation got boring.

That left Hugo, Varian and Lenor.

Immediately, Lenor was bugging Varian to dance, pulling at his arm and bouncing on her heels. “It’s tradition, Vari!”

“What a concept,” Hugo muttered. “Dancing at a ball.”

Lenor glowered at him. “Whatever.” She grabbed Varian’s arm firmly and dragged him off. “Come on! I’ll show you.” She ignored his protests and vanished into the crowd. Hugo watched as they went and then sighed.

Soon Yong was coming up to him, cheeks red with excitement. “What happened, kid?” Hugo asked.

Yong shrugged. “They sent me away. They said I was ‘too much’ for them.”

This cheered Hugo up and he suggested they hide at the snackbar while Nuru and Varian “socialized.”

An hour or so passed before Varian hobbled over to Hugo (Yong was taken away again by a desperately bored Nuru). “How’s your new girlfriend treating you?” Hugo drawled.

Varian rubbed his feet and groaned. “If I have to do another dance, I might actually keel over.” He looked up frantically as Lenor called his name from the crowd. “Hugo, quick.”

“What?” He didn’t have time to think before Varian was pulling him away, away from Lenor and Nuru and Yong and out of the ballroom. They had no idea where they were going and that was fine. They ran down corridors and hallways and soon they found themselves out on a balcony, staring out at a garden.

Hugo snorted at the sight. “Of course they have a garden.”

Varian leaned on the railing and closed his eyes. Hugo watched him. “You good, Hairstripe?”

“No,” Varian said immediately. “I’m tired and exhausted.”

“Pretty sure those are synonyms.”

“You know what I mean.” Varian rubbed his eyes. “Lenor has been dragging me around all night, dancing. I just want a break. I didn’t even want to come tonight. I just wanted to hang out with you.”

Hugo was surprised. “Me? Like just me or like with Yong?”

Varian shrugged. “You’re a pretty fun guy to be around Hugo. You know, when you’re not being pretentious.” Hugo laughed. “I’m serious. It’s nice to hang out with you. You’re funny and smart and you always seem to know what to say to make me feel better.”

Hugo leaned on the railing too. “I could say the same about you, Hairstripe. I mean, you did trust me enough to let me join your merry band of misfits.”

Varian cocked a brow. “Is that seriously what you call us?”

“What else would fit?”

Varian laughed and Hugo joined in. A comfortable silence fell on them. Varian broke it. “You know, the best part about these two days in this town was getting to hang out with you. I’m glad I chose to trust you, Hugo.” He looked up at him with those eyes. Hugo swallowed.

“And I’m glad you trusted me, Varian.”

Varian bit his lip. “I like you a lot, Hugo,” he continued. He brushed a stray hair from his face. “Like, a lot. I hope you know that.”

Hugo narrowed his eyes at Varian. “As a friend?” He needed clarification.

The look in Varian’s eyes was enough. “What do you think?”

Hugo swallowed again. “I think I like you a lot too, Varian.”

And the smile on his face was so bright it could’ve lit an entire town. Varian leaned in and Hugo was determined to meet him. They kissed, nice and sweet, with Varian’s hand resting on Hugo’s neck and Hugo’s arms around his waist. They broke apart for a second so Hugo could say, “You look beautiful tonight.”

“I do?” Varian sounded breathless.

“Yes. The belle of the ball.”

Varian giggled and closed the space between them again. They stayed like that until a voice said, “What?”

They broke apart and saw Lenor standing in the doorway, jaw practically to the floor. She was looking at Varian, then at Hugo, then at Varian again. Hugo was cool while Varian looked embarrassed.

An awkward silence passed between them before Varian cleared his throat. “Are you, uh, enjoying the ball?”

Hugo burst out laughing.

[mintaka14]

Sparring

 This is a burning house, but we should stay inside

‘Cause something’s telling me that we should stay and fight

I know it’s going to take a lot to change your mind

But baby, put your white flag down

I’m rolling up my sleeves right now

[Bloodstone: Guy Sebastian]

 Dawn was announced by the gong and drums, stirring the ship into activity, and Marin spared a quick moment to splash water from a pitcher on her face before she came out onto the deck. The wind had carried them far from Rongyao, and between the water and the lightening sky there was no limit to the endless blue.

Zifeng was standing on the quarterdeck beside the captain, incense rising like a ghost from the bronze brazier behind them. As soon as he saw Marin, he descended to meet her.

“Have you seen Daisuke?” she asked, and a frown shadowed his face for a moment.

“Why are you seeking him?”

“What’s up, Priestess?” Daisuke’s voice drifted down from the rigging, and Marin tilted her head back, shading her eyes, until she could see Daisuke far above. He was braced precariously on the rope ladder where it was anchored to the mast, and it swayed under him as he leaned back against the mast and grinned down at her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Marin asked sharply.

Daisuke raised an eyebrow at her. “What does it look like I’m doing? I need to stretch my legs a bit. I’m bored. And the view’s amazing from up here. Come on up and see,” he said, and swung almost upside down to reach a hand out to her with a grin.

For one heartbeat she stared at his callused hand, but Zifeng’s disapproving huff broke the moment, and then the ladder shifted unsteadily. Marin bit back a cry of alarm, but Daisuke just caught at the rope with his other hand and laughed.

She called up to him, “Hold onto the ladder, you idiot! There are other cures for boredom than risking your life climbing the rigging.”

“It’s okay,” Daisuke said consolingly. “If I die, you can have the fun of saying ‘I told you so’.”

“Reckless,” Zifeng muttered. “This is unnecessary. You need not waste time on seeking answers from this outworlder. What does it matter how he came here, or why the ceremony failed to summon Suzaku? We know what we must do to remedy the situation.”

Daisuke swung down and landed on the deck beside them with a thud.

“Maybe you’re just worried about what Marin will find out,” he suggested provocatively.  He tilted an eyebrow at Marin. “Are you sure His Lordship here is the real Tamahome? Maybe he’s the fake.”

Marin stepped between them before Zifeng could rise to the bait, her hand gentling on Zifeng’s arm as she drew his attention to her.

“If we don’t know what went wrong then it could well happen again, and we can’t afford to fail a second time,” Marin insisted.  “I need to talk to Daisuke, and I need answers.”

She held his gaze until the crackling tension eased, but Marin could see that the lines around Zifeng’s mouth were tight, and the look in his eyes was thunderous as he watched Daisuke follow her back to the stateroom.

~~~~~

“Out of curiosity,” Daisuke said as the door of the stateroom closed behind him, “who’s Zhang Yong’s master?”

On the other side of the room, Meixing paused the sweep of her blade to throw him a dimpled smile before she went back to the series of sword forms she was running through with fluid efficiency in the confined space. She had clearly had exquisite training.

Marin looked back over her shoulder at the question. “That would be Tai Yi Jun.”

“The Great Sage thingy?”

“The Supreme One, the Great Sage Emperor of Heaven,” Marin corrected primly. “Yes. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “I overheard Zhang Yong talking to someone last night. He called them ‘master’. It just seemed odd.”

Marin made a soft, non-committal hum, but Meixing said, “Oh, he talks to Tai Yi Jun in his mirror all the time when he thinks no one’s looking.” At Marin’s frown she added, “Is that important? Zifeng said –“

“Zifeng knows?” Marin cut her off sharply, and Meixing’s eyes widened. Daisuke could see Marin visibly rein herself in and summon up a reassuring smile for the princess, but the rigid set of her spine when she turned back to the books spoke volumes.

“- how the hell does anyone expect me to do my job if they keep information from me that I need to know –“ he heard her muttering savagely under her breath, and he touched her arm gently. Meixing was still watching Marin with an anxious wariness even as she took up the sword exercises again.

“Not that I don’t enjoy yanking your boyfriend’s chain,” Daisuke said, “but what do you need me here for?”

Marin straightened, taking a deep breath. “Why did the tengu come to you in our world? Never mind how they got there, why did they come to you? Why did they think you’d know anything about where Suzaku is?”

“Sugar, I still have no idea.” He leaned back against the wall. “Just interested, did the tengu attack the Temple before or after that ceremony?”

Marin stared at him with an arrested expression.

“After,” she said thoughtfully. “Which would suggest that, unless they mistimed the attack, that they weren’t trying to stop us from summoning Suzaku. You said that the three that found you in our world asked you where Suzaku was?”

Daisuke nodded.

“So they wanted Suzaku for something. But what? And we’re back to why did they think that you would know where He was?”

“You’re the one with the books and the theories. I’m just here because I’m bored and I’m clearly not going home anytime soon.”

“Have you ever seen Him? Or had dreams about Him? Anything?”

Daisuke sighed a negative.

“What have you heard about the four gods? Any stories?” Marin asked.

“Beyond the same fairy tales that you probably grew up with? Nothing.” He shrugged impatiently. “There were firebird puppets and fireworks at some of the summer festivals we went to as kids, but I think I would have noticed if I’d see the real deal.”

“You have festivals in your world?” Meixing asked, pausing on one foot with her sword balanced in her hand. “Do you have lanterns? I love the lanterns, but we were never allowed to dance or eat the food or do anything fun.” She wrinkled her nose, and quoted “ ‘A princess must be modest and composed, and reflect well on her family.’ “

“Sounds dull.” Daisuke wrinkled his nose back at her.

Marin dragged a folio across the desk towards her, and he watched as she submerged herself in her research with that shift of intense focus. She looked up when she realised he was still standing there and pushed a stool towards him with one foot.

“Well? If you’re bored enough to risk your life in the rigging you can help me find some answers.” Marin levelled a look at him, and from the other side of the cabin, Meixing giggled.           “Slave driver,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched up as he sat opposite her. “I bet you’re the kind who’d rather stay home with a book than dating.”

“When the alternative is guys like you? Definitely a book, every time. Besides, I go to Midorikawa Academy. There aren’t a whole lot of boys to choose from there,” she threw back.

“You go to Midorikawa? You’re kidding me, right?”

“You know it?”

“A whole school full of girls? Of course I do,” he said with mock indignation. Marin rolled her eyes.

“Of course you do,” she echoed.

“I bet you look hot in your uniform.

“Perv.” She got to her feet, gathering a handful of papers.

“Please tell me you’re a classroom monitor or something. I love a woman in charge.”

Marin shook her head, and stood up. She leaned down to grab another book from the basket in the corner, and threw a look at him over her shoulder.

“Actually, I’m the school captain,” she told him, and he heard her stifled laugh when he fell backwards in an exaggerated swoon, one hand over his heart.

“You’re killing me here, sugar.”

“I’m sure you’ll live.”

“Does His Lordship know about this side of you?” he teased, and Meixing giggled, but it was as if a shutter suddenly closed down on Marin’s face. She dropped a pile of books in front of Daisuke without saying anything further, and Daisuke almost regretted needling her like that.

“Seriously, you’re killing me,” he groaned. He turned idly through a few pages. “We get sucked into a book and end up in a world that looks like it’s straight out of a Chinese fantasy, and I still wind up doing homework,” he complained. “How is that fair?”

“Who said life was meant to be fair?” Marin asked, lifting her eyes to meet his. She drew a quick series of symbols and handed the list to him. “These are the names you’re looking for. Just keep a look out for any mentions of Zhuque or Zhuniao. Some parts of the texts refer to Zhurong, or one of these other names. Or you’re looking for Suzaku in the more recent records in Japanese. I’m trying to find any mention of when the god appeared in the world.”

“They’re written in Japanese too?” He flicked to the end of the book that she’d handed him and raised an eyebrow at the mix of recognisable kana and kanji instead of the older Chinese script he’d been looking at. “Interesting.”

He glanced down at the scroll under her hands. He could make out part of the calligraphy, but the text that disappeared under the roll of paper was in a different hand, the ink faded and the script incomprehensible. “You can actually read that?”

“Yes, but then I’ve been studying classical Chinese and calligraphy for some time now,” she responded, her attention back on the scroll.

“Seriously? You must be good at it if you can make any sense of that.” He nodded at the scroll. “What script even is this? I can barely make out half the characters, let alone understand any of it.”

“I won the Honda prize for Classical Chinese Poetry,” Marin admitted, sounding as if she was confessing to something shameful, and Daisuke gave a faint whistle.

“Smart girl.”

She shrugged dismissively.

“At least it got my mother off my case about studying Classical Chinese. She’s happier, now that she can drop that into conversations.”

“And she wasn’t happy before?” Daisuke asked incredulously. “What did she want?”

“She wanted me to study modern Chinese. More business prospects and career opportunities there,” she added, seeing his confused look as she turned her head towards him.

“So you studied classical instead. You rebel,” he teased, but he eyed her with a new interest.

“Not really. I’ve always been the good girl,” Marin responded bitterly. “Kimiko’s the rebel.”

She turned back to the scroll, hunching her shoulder slightly.

“And who’s Kimiko?” Daisuke prodded, tipping his head down to meet her eyes. Marin sighed.

“This really isn’t getting us anywhere. I’ve got work to do if I’m going fix things.”

“Kimiko the rebel sounds like someone I’d like to meet,” Daisuke suggested, enjoying the way Marin’s dark eyes flashed fire as they met his.

“You and everyone else,” Marin snapped. “My little sister is the fun one, and I’m the one who winds up cleaning up her mess when everything goes south. You and Kimiko would get on like a house on fire, I’m sure.” It didn’t sound like it was meant to be a compliment.

“You sound like my brother,” Daisuke said a little sourly. “Did it ever occur to you that she might not need you to fix everything for her? I get so sick of Hikari jumping in and telling me what I’m doing wrong all the time. It just makes me want to screw everything up worse, just to see how far I have to go before he stops trying to do everything for me.”

He pulled back, reaching for a charcoal stick. “At least my mistakes are mine.”

They ignored each other for some time after that. Daisuke hadn’t realised he’d been idly drawing in the margins of his notes until Meixing slid onto the stool next to him.

“What are you doing?” the princess asked curiously, tilting her head to see, and he checked his instinctive move to cover the page. “Oh, that’s pretty! Marin, he’s drawing you.”

Daisuke briefly shut his eyes, and opened them again with a sigh to find Marin looking at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Draw me next,” Meixing demanded, and he reached out to flick her hair with his charcoal stick.

“As Her Highness commands,” he gave in with a wry grin, and turned over a fresh page. Meixing watched with bright eyes as he quickly sketched in the first lines. When he finished, he handed her the portrait with a flourish.

“There. It is but a poor reflection of your beauty,” he said extravagantly, and Meixing gazed up at him through her eyelashes, giving him a flirtatious smile that would have been devastating if she had been six years older, or he had been a different person.

As the gong rang out for the midday meal, the princess flung herself out of the cabin, clutching her portrait.

He heard her yelling, “Tian Zhen! Tian Zhen, look at what Daisuke gave me!” and he couldn’t help grinning.

“It looks like you have an admirer,” Marin said, flicking a glance in the direction of the retreating princess. Clearly she was willing to talk to him again.

Daisuke raised an eyebrow.

“Are you jealous?”

“Desperately,” she responded drily, and he laughed.

“Never mind,” Daisuke said. “She’ll get over it.”

“Rather quickly, if she spends much time with you. You might want to tread a bit more carefully, though,” Marin warned him. “She’s young, and she’s spent all her life in the Imperial harem away from guys like you.”

Daisuke snorted. “You really don’t have much of an opinion of me, do you? That big guy with the plants who follows the princess around everywhere must think she’s safe around me if he hasn’t stomped me flat yet.”

“Oh, Tian Zhen will squash you like a bug,” Marin agreed. “But I will gut you slowly and decorate the trees from here to Beijia with your intestines if you even think about hurting her.”

“I had no idea you were so bloodthirsty,” he said cheerfully. “That’s so hot.”

She rolled her eyes at him as he held the door open for her, but he saw the flickering smile she tried to hide as she turned away.

~~~~~

The air was growing colder out over the water by the seventh day. Sometime in the night they had passed out of Hongnan’s territory and the shoreline in the distance was a ribbon of gold as the sun came up. The ship skimmed past the broken spires of rocky and inhospitable islands, and the helmsman heaved the rudder sharply towards the shore as the wind dropped. By the time the sun was directly overhead they could make out the curves and shadows of the sand dunes. The call went out to drop anchor.

Zifeng sent Zhang Yong to find out what was going on, and was told that the wind had died. The news that there was no help for it, they would moor there until the wind picked up again, left Zifeng at his most imperiously bad-tempered but there was nothing to be done. They would have to wait for the wind.

For three days they were becalmed, and among the Seishi there was a sense of watchful tension that only grew as they remained unmoving in the hot, still air. When Daisuke leaned over the side of the ship, the water below was as smooth as glass and it was disconcerting to look down into the sea floor and the shoals in its depths.

As more days wore on, the tension grew unbearably thick along with the heat. Small fights broke out, and Daisuke watched the captain’s face grow more dour, his creased eyes frequently shifting from water to sky and back again, as if looking for something that should be there but wasn’t. The Seishi eyed each other in unspoken communication and trod warily as Zifeng’s face grew more mask-like. The only one who seemed untouched by the growing atmosphere was Marin, and she focused on her books and notes with single-minded intensity.

The sun rose on another day becalmed, and Daisuke wasn’t the only one on deck at dawn, unable to sleep in the close, prickly heat of the cabin. In a clear space between the barrels and ropes Zifeng was running through a series of sword forms, and the languid elegance of his movements was belied by the clenched tension in his jaw.

Daisuke tucked his hand into his tunic as he watched, fingering his butterfly knife. Zifeng made it look so easy, but much as he disliked the golden boy, Daisuke guessed at how deadly it could be at full speed.

Zifeng executed a particularly beautiful and elaborate sequence of moves.

“If he tried that in a street fight, he’d get himself killed,” Daisuke muttered sourly, and behind him he heard Jing Yun’s snort of agreement.

“Although he really is as good as he thinks he is,” Jing Yun told him. “And with Tamahome’s strength behind his sword, he’s almost unstoppable.”

When Marin stepped out of the cabin and moved across the deck to join them, Daisuke said, “Your boyfriend’s not bad with a sword. What weapon do you use?”

“I don’t,” she said, and added, “I’m the brains of this group.”

“I can see that.”

Marin shot a mischievous glance past him to Jing Yun. “My Seishi won’t let me fight.”

Jing Yun put his hand over his heart and gave a deep and florid bow.

“And have our Priestess risk a fingernail? Besides, there’s got to be some point to keeping us around.”

Marin’s eyebrow lifted. “Other than your appalling cooking skills?”

While Jing Yun teased Marin back, Daisuke hesitated, then reached into his tunic and held out his butterfly knife to Marin.

“Here. A present for you, Priestess.”

“But won’t you need it?”

“I can always get something else.” He shrugged. “And at the rate you attract trouble it won’t hurt you to have a little extra, easily concealed weaponry. Something no one’s expecting. I can teach you how to use it,” he said casually.

“I bet you can. Are you a martial artist?”

Daisuke shrugged again. “I trained a little, but I couldn’t stick at the discipline stuff. People ordering me around.”

“I’m shocked,” Marin said drily.

“Hikari was always the karate star. Perfect form, perfect discipline. I got…” he paused, looking for the word, “practical experience. Fights in the street, no one cares how textbook your form is. You’re either the one on the ground or the last one standing, and no one’s checking to see how you got there.”

More of the Seishi had drifted over to join them. Marin was holding the closed blade awkwardly.

“See if you can open it,” Daisuke suggested, and Marin fumbled the catch, swinging the handles open with her other hand. Daisuke grinned at her. “I think we need to start with learning to open it with one move, one hand.”

He held out his hand, and when she handed the knife to him he demonstrated with practised ease. He passed it back to her. Zifeng had put away his sword and was watching them with a frown.

“You do not need to do this,” Zifeng told Marin, his voice stiff with disapproval. “We are here to protect you.”

“And what if you’re not? Are you going to follow her around every waking second?” Daisuke asked, and he turned back to Marin. “Okay, try that again.”

Marin tried to flick the blade open the way Daisuke had, and hissed as the handles pinched her. Zhang Yong glared at Daisuke as if he was the one who’d harmed the Priestess, and Zifeng frowned in concern.

“If you must take up weaponry,” he said stiffly, “I could teach you.”

Daisuke made a faint noise of derision. “You’re all kinds of awesome with a sword, Your Lordship, but Marin doesn’t have time to learn that skill.”

“You would have her learn the disreputable tricks of the streets,” Zifeng said with a sneer, and Daisuke’s grin grew sharp.

“Yup. Better disreputable than dead,” he said cheerfully.

“You do not need to do this,” Zifeng repeated.

Marin gave Zifeng a wry smile. “I want to do this. Daisuke’s right - I’d like to be able to defend myself a little, even if I’ve got my warriors to keep me safe,” she told him, and turned back to Daisuke. “Show me again.”

She tried to flick it again and nearly dropped the knife. Daisuke silently reached out to reposition her fingers.

“Try this,” he said, wrapping his own hand around her wrist to guide her. It gave him an excuse to focus on her hands, to laugh with her and tease her and have her turn those eyes on him with that look of incredulity as he got more and more outrageous just to see her react. And if Zifeng watched him with cool disapproval, and Zhang Yong lurked too close with black looks and suspicion oozing out of every pore, well, Daisuke didn’t much care.

By the time the gong sounded for the shift change, Marin had a few more bruises across her fingers but she was at least able to clumsily get the knife open with one flick of her wrist. Daisuke grinned at her proudly.

“Not bad, Priestess.”

His gaze involuntarily following the Priestess, as she tucked the knife into her sash and walked away to join Zifeng on the other side of the deck with Zhang Yong sticking close by.

“You really do like to live life on the edge, don’t you?” Jing Yun said behind him. “Just don’t go destroying my world because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“Your god can’t be stupid enough to think that all she’s got going for her is purity,” Daisuke responded, his eyes still on Marin. “I’ve never met anyone quite that scary smart, and that glint in her eye when she forgets about trying to be Little Miss Perfect...” he trailed off, realising that he was smiling in spite of himself. “Heaven help the poor idiot who gets in her way.”

Jing Yun just shook his head again, and slid a wrapped bundle across towards Daisuke.

“I thought you could use these, seeing you gave away your little knife there.”

Daisuke unfolded one corner of the wrapping, and his eyebrow shot up. Carefully, he lifted one of the two exquisite daggers, and drew it from its sheath. Light rippled along the blade as he tilted it, and the carved hilt felt perfect in his hand. He swept it gently through the air, watching its steel path.

“Where on earth did you get these?” Daisuke asked, feeling a little lightheaded. Jing Yun glanced back over his shoulder, and Daisuke followed his line of sight to Zifeng, silhouetted against the sky like a prince straight out of an epic story. Daisuke’s grin widened.

“Let’s just say,” Jing Yun said, “that I think you might need them more than their former owner. I don’t think I’d go flashing them around, though, if I were you.”

“Don’t you want them yourself?”

“I don’t profit from my friends. But I don’t think it’s a good idea, letting you go unarmed. And if it yanks His Lordship’s chain a bit, then that’s just a bonus.”

“I shall treasure them all the more for that sentiment.”

They shared a grin, and Daisuke slid the blade carefully back into its sheath.

“Although His Lordship isn’t the only one who’s not happy about me running around with weapons,” Daisuke added drily. “I get the feeling that if Zhang Yong had his way I’d not only be disarmed, but chained to the mast with a round-the-watch guard on me.”

Jing Yun made a derisive noise. “And you’ve worked so hard to get him to like you.”

“He started it,” Daisuke muttered, realising even as he said it how childish he sounded.

“Zhang Yong has not exactly had an easy time of it. He has reason to be angry and scared.” At Daisuke’s questioning look, Jing Yun revealed, “The tengu attacked Hongnan for the first time when Zhang Yong was about six. His father administered a tiny village in Zifeng’s family’s lands until the tengu appeared up out of the blue and killed everyone. Zhang Yong was the only one who survived, but not before the tengu had torn him up and left him for dead. It was days before anyone found him.”

Daisuke was silent.

“Then they found out that Zhang Yong was Chiriko, constellation of the Net, and Tai Yi Jun turned up and claimed him for training.”

“Have you ever met this Great Sage of his?” Daisuke asked.

“Once, when Marin brought us all together in Rongyao.”

“What’s she like?”

Jing Yun’s mouth curled in an odd, twisted smile. “Like everyone’s idea of their sweet little old grandmother. Until she looks straight at you.” His smile twisted further. “And that was what raised Zhang Yong after he lost his family and was left scarred and broken by the tengu. Cut him a break. It took him a long time to warm up to the rest of us too.”

Daisuke didn’t respond. He turned back to the weapons in front of him, drawing first one and then the other dagger free, his attention fixed on the play of light along the exquisitely forged blades. Jing Yun smiled faintly and got up while Daisuke examined the hilts more deeply. Ugly little monsters grimaced at him in a friendly fashion from the brass whorls of the guard, and under his fingers he could make out the elaborate curls of the inevitable phoenix tail carved into the dark wood of the hilt. He turned one of the daggers to follow the line of the firebird up to its surprisingly realistic gaze. It seemed to regard him with a benevolent eye.

“You, I can live with,” he told it, and came to his feet, liking the way the daggers felt in his hands and the way they flowed through the air around him as he fell into patterns of movement that he hadn’t practised in some time. But some things are never quite forgotten, and the kata came back to him like breathing as he tested the reach and feel of his new weapons.

He didn’t realise that Marin was watching him, still as a statue, her face impassive, until some time had passed, and he came to a halt a little less gracefully than he would have liked.

“Back again, Your Worshipfulness?” he asked flippantly to cover his stumble. He didn’t think she was fooled. “Did you miss me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said with a cool lift of her eyebrow. She nodded at the blades in his hands. “Where did you get those?”

Zifeng came up behind Marin, and Daisuke could tell the moment when he saw the daggers in Daisuke’s hands. His face smoothed out into a stillness that hid the fury that Daisuke saw flash in his eyes.

“They were just lying around,” Daisuke shrugged, his grin growing wider as Zifeng’s spine grew stiffer.

“Those daggers have been in my family for generations,” Zifeng said with glacial control. He held out his hand. “Return them now, and perhaps I won’t have you chained in the hold for the remainder of our journey.”

Daisuke looked down at the blades with mock thoughtfulness, and looked back up at Zifeng.

“You know, I rather like them. How about you fight me for them?”

“Are you serious?” Marin asked incredulously.

“One round sparring,” Daisuke said, still grinning at Zifeng in a way that he knew would infuriate the young noble. “First blood gets the daggers.”

Zifeng raised one austere eyebrow, and drew his sword with a sharp sound from the scabbard.

“And when I win, you will return the daggers.”

“If you win,” Daisuke accepted, and tipped his head to loosen the muscles in his neck. He slid the daggers free and settled them into his hands, flexing his fingers around the hilts.

Daisuke was dimly aware that a crowd had gathered to watch.

“Why are they fighting?” he heard Meixing asking, and Marin’s cool reply, “Because they’re idiots.”

Zifeng stood, watching him expressionlessly. His sword was balanced with a practised elegance, waiting for Daisuke’s first move. Patience was not Daisuke’s forte, and so he attacked.

It became apparent to Daisuke very quickly that Zifeng was going carefully, and it pissed him off. He pushed a little too fast, and Zifeng pivoted smoothly to let Daisuke overextend. Daisuke scowled. Zifeng’s expression didn’t change as he effortlessly avoided the blades.

Eventually, Zifeng executed a manoeuvre that was too fluid to follow. Daisuke threw up a dagger in a mistimed block and felt a bead of blood trail down his forearm, followed by a sharp line of fire, then the daggers fell from his hands as his legs were swept out from under him. Zifeng had obviously had enough exercise for now.

“Not bad,” the lordling said, and waited for Daisuke to stand again. “You lasted longer than I had expected.”

“Are you quite done?” Marin asked in arctic tones, and Daisuke picked up the daggers. He reversed the blades, offering Zifeng the daggers hilt-first.

“As agreed,” he said wryly, and Zifeng stared at them for a long moment before turning a swift, unreadable look to Marin.

“I think you may need them more than I do,” he said expressionlessly. “Just make sure that you acquire a little more practice with them before your life depends on it.”

Zifeng turned and walked away before Daisuke could respond to the dig.

“You really are an idiot,” Marin told him, backing him up to sit on a nearby barrel as she looked at the cut on his forearm. He yelped as she prodded at the cut.

“You’re a ruthless woman,” he complained.

“If you’re foolish enough to challenge Zifeng, then I have no sympathy for you. Just don’t get any blood on my books.”

Xuelian emerged from the state room with a length of linen in her hand. She gave Daisuke’s arm a cursory glance, and her lips pressed in a tight line.

“Do you want me to keep him out of trouble for the rest of the journey?” she asked Marin, and Daisuke’s eyes widened as a faint red glow crept around the edges of the doctor’s fingers. The symbol of Nuriko, constellation of the Willow, gleamed softly on Xuelian’s collarbone, and Daisuke shot Marin an alarmed look.

“It’s tempting, but we probably shouldn’t,” Marin said with a hint of regret. The red glow faded from Xuelian’s hand and she raked another scathing glance over Daisuke before she swept back to the state room.

Marin grabbed the linen that Xuelian had put near her elbow to bind up the cut.

“You know how on edge everyone is, stuck here. You know how worried Zifeng is, and you had to go and provoke him anyway.” She tugged the binding a little too tight and he winced. “You deserved whatever you got. You’re lucky he’s too much of a gentleman to really fight you.”

“Yeah, he’s a gentleman, alright,” Daisuke muttered. He tilted his head curiously as he watched her focus on tying the bandage. “You don’t seem too bothered by this delay, though.”

“You want me to have a screaming meltdown about it?” Marin asked without looking up.

“No, I just don’t get why Zifeng’s got his panties in a bunch because the world is going to end if we don’t move soon, but you’re not fazed.”

“I just don’t see the point in getting flustered about something I can’t do anything about.”

Daisuke snorted. “Oh, please. You’re exactly the kind of control freak who’d lose it if something doesn’t work out the way you want it to.”

Marin glared at him.

“You’re just not convinced that we should be heading for this Teniaolan place, are you?” he pushed with sudden insight.

Before Marin could say anything, a faint breath of warm wind stirred across their faces. They felt it again, and Marin’s head turned to find Zifeng. She was frowning.