Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

10th December 1997

In a bustling night market, out in the countryside, there’s a monster hiding amid the crowds of patrons. Gliding in between bodies, seeking for an unfortunate soul to ravage on. It takes the form of a human, intimidating the men with its long limbs and muscled build, fooling the ladies with its pale complexion and startling eyes. Though one isn’t advised on looking directly at those eyes. For it would entrance you into looking at someone your heart’s most desires. 

This year, winter has come a little bit later in Sinegard. While the weather gets even colder every day, the first fall of snow has yet to show any sign of appearance. Though looking at its surroundings, it can sense that the lack of snow doesn’t deter anyone’s spirit of the upcoming holiday. 

The monster is still gazing around the crowds, growing impatient at finding the right moment to strike. This, until his gaze follows a one old man, stumbling his way out of the heavy crowds, eliciting a few glares from the patrons he has all but knocked at. Its gaze keeps following the man, its feet carrying him far out of the market. 

The old man is still stumbling in his way, unaware of the danger that has followed him through, as his brain is clogged from the alcohol, and his body feels warmth from the same thing running through his veins. 

Getting further- and further into the night, they are leaving behind the roaring activity of the market, as it is exchanged with the deadly silence they are now shrouded with. His ears are still ringing from an attempt to adjust the contrasting noises, blinking rapidly to get a hold of his senses back, and forcing his eyes to open so he wouldn’t trash on the ground at any moment. 

The step of the monster is light as a feather as it stalks him from a mere distance. But once the wind hits the old man’s nape, he has finally realized the danger he might be in. His body suddenly goes taut, eyes frantically casting everywhere to find a spot where he can lose his stalker, for whatever intention they have for him.

His eyes are finally met with a mouth of a narrow alleyway, and starts heading that way. On hearing the fastening sound of footsteps behind him, he starts to panic, and willing his feet to bring him faster into the said alleyway. 

Just right when he enters the alleyway, a hand shoots out to grip at his shoulder, holding him in a vice grip as he struggles to wriggle his way out. 

“What do you want?” He tries to scream, feeling a scratch in his throat as he finds his voice turning raspy instead. 

The monster doesn’t say anything. It is flipping him around, and sunk its teeth into his artery before the man can even let out a scream. 

The last thing the old man sees when he opens his eyes is his lovely wife's face, smiling down at him. He tries to return the smile, somehow knowing he will never see it again. But right after a semblance of smile taking over his lips, the monster that has taken over his wife’s form stabs its nails into the man’s heart, piercing through three blades into his torso, then pulling it back as viciously as when it has sunk it in. 

With that, the monster is gone, leaving behind a trail of blood and a corpse of a man with his throat torn out, and his eyes staring up blankly into the endless dark sky. 

That day, at the first fall of snow, lay the first victim of the Undead. 

Chapter Text

Two Years Prior

The rain comes in a burst of anger that night. Thundering on the rooftops of the warehouse, and sending a gust of wind to come in when the heavy door opened from the outside. 

There are soldiers striding in, rows and rows of them, all looking confused and nervous at their surroundings. Their instruction is simple enough. Guard this area, and let no one find out what is happening inside here, at any cost.  

The assignment should not be difficult. The warehouse in which the act is conducted is seated in the middle of nowhere, out in the countryside. That makes it impossible for anyone to hear whatever is happening inside the installment. No matter how loud all the screams and shrieks of pain coming from the subject strapped down on a table, the sound would only travel through the warehouse, then escape into the night before it merges into the storm that rages outside. 

One of the scientists standing around the table chuckles, “even the weather seems to help us,” he says under his mask. 

“Or that could precisely be a bad omen,” the other scientist shrugs. 

The pessimist response doesn’t deter the first scientist. Quite the opposite, he grins even wider. Anyone seeing him right now can clearly tell the gleam of excitement inside his eyes. “Ah, but I’m certain it’s successful by now,” he says confidently, gesturing at one of the soldiers to come closer. 

The soldier nods, walking up into the edge of the table, then deftly opening two of the straps holding down onto the upper half of the subject’s body. The buckles drop, clanking a heavy metal into the floor, and making the subject jerks forward in panic, heaving for air they had lost hours ago. The subject’s looks so lost, their eyes swivel around, looking frantically as they reach their hands out as if asking for someone-anyone to just get them out of the scene. It’s crazy how fear is able to reveal how young they actually are. 

Some of the soldiers lower their eyes to the ground. Feeling a phantom hand squeezes their hearts for any drop of conscience. But then again, it isn’t any of their business that there’s a child being strapped down to be treated however these scientists please. 

One of the scientists holding up a syringe under the white light. The needle glints as it catches the light. At the nod of approval from the other one, the needle plunges down, emptying the red substance as it disappears into the soft skin of the subject’s arm. 

When it’s done, the other scientist brings up a series of blades, choosing the biggest one for his hand to take. He then gestures to the closest soldier, asking him to hold the subject down. 

Through their half lidded eyes, the blades glint under the white light, and upon seeing it getting closer to their body, the subject jerks wildly, trying to wiggle out of the vice grip on their shoulder. The subject is far too stronger than they actually should be. Four hands now hold down onto their entire body, yet the subject still manage to struggle, forcing their throat to scream, though the only voice that comes out is a scratchy sound that is far too pathetic. 

Suddenly, there’s a cool palm resting on the subject’s forehead. The struggle stops for a moment, but it buys enough time for the scientist to lift up the subject’s cloth and plunge the blade down to the subject’s stomach. 

The pain is immediate, a shocking warm and tight feeling that forces them to choke out blood out of their mouth. Then there’s blood everywhere, spurting out of the wide cut in their stomach.

The two scientists tenses for a second, one of them fast in wiping down the blood covering the cut, his hands trembling from both terror and anticipation. 

Shocked gasps are shared within the room. There, right in the place where the blade had pierced through a skin, the skin stitches on itself, mending on the broken part, and leaving behind nothing but a perfect patch of skin.

“Magnificent.”

…

Present Time

Fang Runin is made of fire. Bright and intense. Scathing and unforgiving. The tiny girl is made to contain much more than her body could ever rein in. She is made brighter- more alive than anything in the world could handle that it starts to fail in keeping her in. It makes her slippery, agile in knocking out every hand reaching out to touch her. As she’s always ready to burst out of everyone’s palm that dares to grasp her in. 

Perhaps that is the magic behind her dance, being stubborn enough that people have no choice but to follow every step you make. Deceiving enough that people can’t help but to look out for the crevice, for when they get the chance to get close enough, and reach out their hands to lay a touch. 

Though when that time has come, that’s when they finally start to feel the heat. Realizing it belatedly that it creeped from their fingers, asking for more and more skin to feast on. But by then, the fire had already consumed them. The guy thinks that is the only decent way to describe what is happening before his eyes. 

For a guy that prided his place in society, he chose to avoid the light tonight. Prefer to linger in the darkest corner instead. Making himself comfortable as he watches every move she’s making on the stage. 

He always thought that the phoenix goddess is a much of an exaggeration to name a dancer with. But looking at her tonight, perhaps it was him who’s been underestimating the source in which the moniker derives. Fang Runin spins through the air, lifting her arms up in a graceful arc that sends the crowds to whoosh and awes in her wake. She then glides to the floor in one-smooth movement, conveying a story through every step of motion and expressions. Every emotion is steeped into each and every gesture she chooses to make. Tonight, she’s telling the classic one, the tragedy of the phoenix goddess and the dragon emperor. 

His eyes are still pinned on her movement when he can swear that her eyes catch his across the frenzied room. He can see a flash of emotions there. The kind that has nothing to do with the storytelling. First is recognition, followed by a brief hesitation, to then morph itself into something akin to irritation. If she’s any other dancer, that tiny motion could’ve cost her a chain of mistakes. But surely, Fang Runin never settled herself to be just like any other dancer. So at last, she catches herself and avert her gaze before she gets swayed by the unwanted feelings. Deftly continuing her sequence of movements as he can tell it already got to the last arc.

The chandelier hangs low in the middle of the room. Casting a soft yellowish light to the rest of the space. The red carpet, and the rounding staircases are perfect to contribute to the embellishment of this installment. Covering the dark truth that is held right beneath his feet. He lowkey respects Daji for the effort. Because the bar-if you even can call it that- is too loud, too luxurious, and too entertaining that the idea of a covert basecamp of the empress’s assassin wouldn’t cross most people's minds. 

He looks up just in time as Rin finishes her dance. A fire bursting behind her, making it look like she’s standing inside a fire, making it look like she makes the fire. Rin lightly lands on her feet before bowing to the enthusiastic audience. A relieved smile splayed on her lips, and her eyes catch his for the second time. Her gaze holds his for a moment longer, a different kind of glint inside that gaze.

Most people wouldn’t be able to hold their grounds against Fang Runin. Most people also wouldn't linger in places that aren't their territory. Especially when a series of murder has been happening, and a rumored monster has been running around the city. 

But Yin Nezha, in all cases, has never been aligned to insert himself as most people. 

And therefore, he’s here to be burned ablaze by the sun herself. 

…

“No.”

“We’re done here, Rin. I’ve talked about the improbability of defying orders.”

In the midst of the high after performing her show, Rin's favorite thing to do is to secure a glass or two of red wine while standing in the back of the room, watching her comrade’s performances. As one she never fails to enjoy is Baji with his saxophone, amusingly trying to flirt with the front row of audiences sitting in the round table, and seeing him throwing winks and flirtatious smiles around the room, as she can’t help but always laugh at the stunt he is pulling. 

Though tonight, it is a totally different matter for her daily habit. Her mood has been increasingly worsening the moment she laid eyes on no other than The Yin Nezha leaning against the bar in the back of the room, and watching her performance like he has no care for the world. Rin got off the stage as soon as her show ended, walking briskly to the door behind the stage, and descending all of the stairs to get to the room at the end of the hall, demanding explanation from her commander. 

The said commander has been sitting in his nice leather seat, looking up to her for no longer than a second as if he already knew what her intention was for entering his room. With her chest heaving, her braid undone, and a fist clenched hard on her side, Rin looks more like a feral cat ready to strike at any moment to the gracious dancer she had been just a moment ago. 

“Well, I said no,” she says stubbornly, trying to stroke away the rather annoying strands that are sticking to her cheek. 

“And it doesn’t matter, because you ought to do what she said and not what you said,’ her commander says, feeling undeterred by her rigorous attempt to stare him down and dominate this conversation.  

“Altan.”

“Rin.”

It takes her another second to gather herself, looking up at the ornament ceiling before heaving a really- really deep sigh as if she just came out of the water, and this will be her last time in doing so. Altan rolled his eyes at her antics. An amused smile playing on his lips. 

“Last I checked, there exists something called ‘freedom of speech’,” she treads carefully, trying to find her way out of this situation. “Therefore- you'll be my representative, and give her a piece of my mind,” she says brilliantly, snapping up two of her fingers as if she just broke down a code to a nation’s high-level information. 

The amused smile is gone in an instant, rapidly replaced by a hard glare of his eyes. “Rin, I'm serious,” he says, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I demand you to put away your childhood feud and use your remaining professionalism to complete this task.” 

Now it's her turn to glare at him. "Altan, you know it's not about me, don’t you?” She says, scowling deeply at the snip of her professionalism. “Has Daji finally lost her mind? What would she pair me with the son of her biggest political opposition? Doesn't she realize the possibilities of this mission?”

As soon as the words stumble out of her mouth, she gets hit by a sudden realization. 

Oh. Could it possibly be?

Staring into her commander's eyes, she knew she finally fitted in the right piece of a puzzle. 

“Does she really want me too?” She asks Altan, words drawn out slowly like she couldn’t quite believe what that woman wants her to do. 

“Yes, Rin.” 

“But why? That will be too risky, and then there's a high chance that he will also do the same thing to her.” 

“It's not a chance,” Altan says, looking into her eyes like it’s the most obvious thing. ”It is definitely that he'll try to pry from you. But we'll make sure he'll come back to his dad with a bare hand,” he says firmly, clasping both of his hands on top of his table. “ You will make sure that he’ll come back with a bare hand. And in return, you’ll give her what she wants to hear. Do you understand me?”

Rin is too stunned to speak at that point. Barely giving him a nod. She can feel a hundred needle poking at her back head, grimacing at the prospect of her imminent mission.

Partners who most definitely will stab each other's back, huh… isn't that just wonderful?

Chapter Text

“So when did you arrive?” Altan asks casually, feigning amiability in a way of greeting. 

There’s a brief pause, a tensing shoulders, and a tilted head before Nezha relaxes in his seat, returning the mask of pretense by giving him one of his charming smiles. “I just arrived this morning.” 

The three are seated in the round tables inside one of the private rooms at the edge of the bar, proclaiming that it’ll be too risky to let him go inside their basement. The inner part of the small room is made to house a particularly important guest, and those who came from the higher class status. There’s also a chandelier hanging in the center of this room, though far smaller than the one inside the main room. The wall is adorned with a red wallpaper hinted in a streak of gold that compliments the glowish light shining in the room. The wall is also made soundproof so the ones outside can’t overhear the conversations inside. Though in return, the sliding door is made out of a glass, so the ones inside can sneak a glance to what is happening on the outside. Unfortunately in this case, it means that there’s also a cast of yellowish light permeated through the glass door, and that, like everything else- works in Nezha’s favor to cast a lovely glow to his already pretty face, softening his sharp edges. 

Yin Nezha has a way of carrying himself that makes him look like he belongs here. Well, Yin Nezha has a way of carrying himself that makes him look like he belongs in any opulent spaces. There’s a certain aura surrounding him that makes it seem like he’s greater than he actually is. All of that are factors that contribute to the fact that you can’t help but be drawn to his presence, and be pulled by the way he can command a room under his presence. 

From all of those infuriating features about him, one that will always grate on her nerves is the way she can tell he is aware of all of them. The way he is instantly aware of her attention pinning on his figure right now. Then, he has the audacity to smile so handsomely toward her, in spite of the fact that her attention for him is no other than to burn a hole inside his head. 

“Hello, Rin,” he addresses her sweetly, still flashing his charming smile, showing off his perfect row of teeth to her direction, undeterred by the mean glare she is still tossing at him. “Long time no see. How have you been?” He adds unnecessarily.

Her first reflex is to sneer at his pathetic attempt to appear like he’s the good guy. The tone of his voice is nice, amicable even. He greets her as if she is an old friend of his, and not one he was so despised. But Rin knows better than to fall for the sweet tone. Years of being the object of his hatred, she knows there’s an underlying condescension seeped into his words, mocking her for her predicament and declaring himself as having the upper hand for the current game she didn’t notice they are playing. 

Registering that quickly inside her head, she realizes that his presence here is also to offer her a temporary truce, a piece of peace, you might as well call it. And Rin would be damned if she shows him that he is right about having the upper hand in the matter. Having that in mind, Rin is fast to straighten her hunched shoulders, and neutralizes her expression before putting on her best impression of a charming smile.  

“Why, hello! It’s been really nice around here, I’ve been keeping myself busy, detached from any type of distraction,” she said, leaning her body forward to feign interest. “Now let’s skip the preamble and jump right to the matter, shall we?”

If he and Altan are surprised by her sudden shift of mood, she doesn’t care. Her eyes are locked with his, and if two can play a game, then there’s no way she will let Nezha win it. 

…

Altan coughs a little, trying to shrug the heavy tension hanging in the air about them. The cough in fact, isn’t effective. Because it looks like the two are still locked in a staring contest that none want to back down. 

He tries to cough once more, “so as Rin said before, let’s jump right into the matter.” He looks expectantly to the both of them, then sighs when met with still ignorance. “Alright… whatever, I’ll be heading to the outside for a moment,” he says to them, feeling a stress headache starts attacking his senses as he heads out of the room. 

As soon as Altan’s back blurred into the crowds, Rin’s glare comes back in double forces. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Still a bitch, I see,” Nezha says casually, leaning back into the soft cushion behind him, not bothering to break their eye contact. 

“Answer me!” She snaps, leaving the word asshole inside her mouth in an attempt to keep her nerves under control. 

Nezha tilts his head to one side, tapping the tabletop with his index finger. “It’s rather a stupid question, don’t you think?” He taunts her, enjoying as the light of fury unfurls inside her eyes. 

Rin stands up unceremoniously. She’s about to climb up the table separating them, and choke that arrogance down his throat when Altan comes back to the room, bringing along inside his hands three bottles of whiskey. 

“What…” he says, gaping at the scene before him. “I’m sorry, what the fuck is going on in here?” He asks, shaking his head as if to chase away the image of Rin almost climbing up a table out of his mind. 

“Nothing interesting, of course,” Nezha answers him. 

“Of course…” He says, taking his seat slowly in between them, weighing his next words. “Are you two aware of how they ordered the both of you to indulge in this mission?” Altan asks, closely observing the miniscule motion in their faces. 

Rin snorts, “What? Are those maniacs expecting us to marry each other?” 

Nezha snorts in return, swiveling his head to face Altan, and completely going blank when the man doesn’t laugh along. 

“You’re a smart girl, aren’t you?” He says, instead of confirming nor declining her careless question. 

Rin swivels her head alarmingly fast in his direction. She could see there’s an undercurrent of satisfaction as he watches the emotions that go through their faces. First, is an utter shock, then the expression that is written all over Rin’s face morphs into something akin to disgust.  

“Wait, what?” Nezha bewilderedly asks, at the same time Rin exclaims “With him, of all people?” He quickly snaps his head to her direction, scrunching his perfect eyebrows at her response, feeling offended. 

“What do you mean ‘of all people’?” He asks her, lips set in a thin line. 

Rin’s eyes shift to him, quickly noting his obvious displeasure at hearing her response. Just to be an asshole, she punctuates her earlier statement by sending a smirk his way, “well? Of all the people exist in this world, why would I torture myself by submitting to be hand in marriage with you?” She asks him. 

The payoff for that question is a mean glare sent to her direction, before the oh- so familiar sneer sneaks its way into his face, “like you have a choice at all,” he bites back, mocking her with the curl of his corner lips. He can clearly tell the exact moment her form tenses, or the way she curls her hands in a tight fist. There's a strange feeling spreading inside his chest at how easy he can stoke the fire within her. 

Their expressions are switched, and now Rin is the one wearing a mean glare. “Oh? So you think you have a choice?”

He scoffs in response, shrugging his shoulders casually, “a lot of choices actually.” 

His confidence somehow stokes the fire to burn even brighter as Rin visibly tries to repress the urge to climb over the table again and choke him with her hands, for real this time. “And who the fuck you think want to put up with your annoying ass, and an even more annoying self?” She snaps at him. 

“Open your eyes, Rin. The ladies are waiting in line,” he says, leaning back to the soft cushion, then adds with a small lift at the corner of his lips, “and my ass is fine, in case you want to join behind the line.”

His smile after is one that is built purely out of self satisfaction as the girl’s cheek sitting before him turns a shade darker. He makes The Great Fang Runin blush! Then proceed to ignore the way that it pleases him more than it should be. 

Out of his consciousness, his mind has secretly portrayed her reddened face, and branded it into his memory. 

The man that’s been watching the whole convo needs to mentally slap his forehead at the totally insignificant banter the two have just exchanged. Feeling suddenly like he shouldn’t be there at all, and understanding the disaster that is to collide these two in a mission. 

“I will really appreciate it if you two just set aside your uh- disagreement,” he grimaces to himself, “and be cooperative in this mission. As it will really determine the future of our nation.” 

Rin is first to turn his head back to him, along with sending a dagger through her gaze. “We didn’t talk about any form of marriage before, why so suddenly?” 

“Ah, but then you won’t ever accept this mission,” he answers her casually, a ghost of a smile hovering at the corner of his lips as if he isn’t just deceiving her into agreeing to be involved here. 

“I don’t want to be involved either way.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says to her, in a tone so flat it is obvious that he does not feel any bit of sorry for her. 

“May I know why?” Nezha asks him, his gaze flickers to him curiously. 

“Now that is a question I’ve no place to answer.” Altan answers.

“You keep babbling nonsense,” Rin says.

“Well, I am once again apologizing for your inconvenience, Rin. But the two of you will be joining forces, and working on a mission I’ve never had my hands on,” he hung on his words. 

“Meaning?” 

“Meaning- you two will be working under one handler, and that obviously isn’t me.” 

Altan checks his watch, then sighs, “guess we need to wait for him a bit longer.” 

“Him?” 

As if on cue, the sliding glass door opened, floating in the noise of the crowds, and the sound of music from the outside, before it got muffled when the door slid closed behind a man. Standing there just right in front of the door, is a lanky boy with his messy curly hair. His freckled cheeks rise as he pulls a smile that Rin has grown to be very familiar with. “Hello dearest,” he greets them cheerfully. 

“Kitay?” 

Their shocked faces have somehow made his grin even wider. “I believe I am needed here?’ 

“Totally,” Altan says, clapping two of his palms as he quickly shot up to his feet, impatience to escape the scene. “Now you’re here, I’ll handover the matter into your hands, then.” Just that, and he is out of the room. 

“Well?” Kitay said in a questioning tone. Seated himself in between Rin and Nezha as he can sense the heavy air surrounding them. “Altan must’ve told you the big news, then,” he says, sounding oddly disappointed as he probably has prepared himself to find out about how their reaction would be.

Rin narrows her eyes in suspicion. “You never told me,” she asks as an answer, furrowing her eyebrows in annoyance. 

“My apologies, dear. It never occurs to me that a confidential government should be shared with anyone.” 

The furrow of her eyebrows get deeper as she doesn’t appreciate his sarcasm. “And here I thought that I’m not just anyone for you,” she says, folding her arms in front of her chest. 

“Of course you’re not just anyone for me, Rin. But you’re also weren’t someone relevant in this case,” he says matter of factly, then adds with the cheekiest grin ever, in Rin’s opinion. “Aren’t you glad that now you are and I can share it with you?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows to her. 

“Whatever,” she says, rolling her eyes. “So why don’t you just send him alone on this mission,” Rin asks, ponting at Nezha with her chin. 

“More like, why don’t you just send her alone?” Nezha intervenes, just to annoy her. Rin glances his way for a brief second, before ignoring him completely, instead focusing her gaze on Kitay. 

“Nuh-uh, it’ll be too risky,” Kitay answers offhandedly. 

“And pray tell, why is that exactly?” 

Kitay looks at her then, really looking at her, tilting his head to one side. “Do you think you two are the first to be sent on this mission?” He asks rhetorically. “Unfortunately, this serial killer has been around for longer than you might expect, Rin. It used to hang around in the countryside. But it turns out in this era, a singular man living with only himself is very easy to get suspected,” he says, turning his voice lower. “Two of my man, gone in a matter of days,” he adds. 

Rin can easily tell the part in which his voice starts to quiver. The way his eyes cast down to the ground in a moment of grief for his comrades. It will also not be surprising if he blames himself for somehow being involved in leading them to their deaths. 

Rin reaches out to squeeze his hand gently, “you know it’s not on you, right?” She asks him softly, making sure he no longer stresses himself for it. 

Kitay looks at her appreciatively, sending her a small smile, then squeezes her hand as a way to convince her that he is alright, though in return, he also refuses to answer her question. 

“Alright,” he says suddenly, straightening his posture. “I believe you two have heard what’s going on in the city, specifically in the area where the Nikaran live?” He inquires, and chooses to explain it anyway upon seeing their nodded head. “There are murders happening, corpses found in an ironic state, throats torn out, three holes in their torso, et cetera, et cetera,” he explains, making a hand gesture to emphasize his words. “Then, this is also happening.” Kitay reaches out to get his bag, and takes out a newspaper, placing it in the middle of them. 

There in the front paper, is a caricature of a monster. A portrait of what the Hesperian's book probably believes about how the devil looks like. Two red horns, two huge fangs gnashing at its button lip, and a body painted in a deep scarlet. At the bottom of the portrait, the title says ‘NIKARAN DEVILS TURNING THE STREETS INTO CHAOS’ . 

Without reading the words written, Rin can already tell what kind of nonsense they splutter on that news. She scowls in irritation, “damn those colonizers,” she spits the words out. 

Kitay grins, “exactly, damn those colonizers.” 

“So what exactly are we supposed to do?” Nezha asks, looking utterly disturbed at the newspaper. 

“The agency called the Timeless Pres s.” Kitay points at the corner of the newspaper. “At home, they do media imports. In Sinegard, they run a newspaper for Hesperian residents. And their objectives?” He asks, looking at them expectantly. 

“Hesperian propaganda.” Nezha answers. 

“Right, it’s about their agenda with the Makerism.” Kitay then reaches for the newspaper, flipping through the pages until he gets to the last one. He shows them the article- no, the advertisement at the bottom of the page. “So here’s what we’re going to do. The agency is hiring. Domestic help, and preferably youths right out of the school so they can pay them with little money. Two positions have opened up- one interpreter assistant, that will be you,” he points his index finger at Nezha, “and one reception assistant, which obviously will be you, Rin. We’ve pulled some strings and sent you both in. I suspect there is a whole division within the agency responsible for plotting these deaths. So I need you two to follow the instructions, root out the cell, then we’ll make an arrest. After that, Sinegard will live happily ever after, and you two can go back to ignoring each other’s existence,” he says cheerfully, ending his word in a tone of one after telling a fairytale. 

He turns to look at Rin, then Nezha. “Questions? Comments? Concerns?”

“So why must I marry him, again?” She inquires, knowing well she hasn’t asked that question before. Sitting across from her, Rin can see Nezha’s dark eyebrow lifted, but he doesn’t comment on her question. Turning his head to Kitay to have his answer. 

“Ah,” he pauses, anticipation seeping into his tone, “now come the fun question.” 

Both Rin and Nezha look at him cautiously, but they let him continue. “Taking on a married couple as a cover gives you the excuse to be closed off with each other. It gives you a reason to debrief with each other during your lunch break without appearing suspicious. I am a professional,” he says with a knowing smile, “It’s a guarantee that I’ve considered our plan of action very thoroughly. Besides, it just makes sense, you know.”

Nezha scoffs at that. 

“As if me and him will ever make any sense,” Rin says, incredulous. 

Kitay shrugs in an answer, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I mean, academy sweethearts tend to marry each other after graduation.” 

The horror look that is taking over her expression is the one mirrored on Nezha’s. The next thing that is happening is a peal of laughter that sends Kitay toppling over, clutching at his stomach as the figures in front of him can’t help but feel heat rising on each of their cheeks. 

This asshole. 

Chapter Text

They moved to their now shared apartment that very night. 

Rin has moved all of her boxes inside the little space, while Nezha is still moving what looks like an eternal amount of boxes inside their new shared place. Rin looks at his displeased face, feeling amused. The Yin Prince has definitely never needed to put his hands on manual labor before, as he can’t get his servants to help him move in to avoid any unnecessary suspicion from their new neighborhood. 

“You need a hand there, princeling ?” She teases him. 

“No,” he answers her. His eyebrows are furrowed at the way she calls him, but he doesn’t comment any further. 

“What the fuck are you bringing in all those boxes, anyway?” She asks him, nudging one of his boxes with her toes. 

“Hush,” he says, waving her feet away, “don’t you dare come any closer to any of my things.” 

Rin scoffs at him, “what? Scared that my peasant hands will break your fancy things?” 

He raises one dark eyebrow, looking unamused at her question, wondering whether he should snip back at her, or just ignore her completely. “Whatever,” he says at last, weighing that the following argument wouldn't be worth it. 

Rin’s shoulders slump at hearing his response, muttering the word ‘boring’ under her breath. 

And so for the next thirty minutes or so, Rin manages to pull out the meager things she brought with her, and placing them in where they should be. All of the clothes she has brought with her are also neatly placed inside the only cupboard inside the bedroom. Even with all her things out of their boxes, she can only manage to fill in very little of the space they got, and thinks idly how Nezha’s things will surely dominate all of the spaces. She feels a sudden tingle, her cheeks feel hotter as she can’t help but think how intimate that is to share the same roof and space with him, before silently scolded herself for thinking so. 

It is past midnight when Nezha’s finally done with all of his things. Rin lays stretched out on the couch, yawning several times before jerking awake upon seeing that he’s done arranging. Her legs quickly touch the floor, and run towards the bedroom’s door, blocking his way firmly with her arms stretched open before he can even come near the door. 

“The bedroom is mine,” she says in a quick breath. 

“I thought you’ll take the couch?” He asks her, one of his hands comes up to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing tiredly at her antics.

Rin narrows her eyes at him, “I never said that.” 

“Alright, then why would I give the bedroom to you?”

“Give? It is mine already the first time we step in here.” 

He certainly looks unhappy with that response, “And why is that exactly?” He asks, folding his arms in front of his chest, “is it because you’re a woman?” He says that mockingly, taunting her to try and answer that. 

“What? Of course not,” she dodges the question, face scrunched up in irritation. She then looks up and down at him, calculating something inside her head. “You know what? Let’s fight, then.”

Nezha’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, “For what?” He asks her, suddenly feeling lost in the conversation. 

“For the bedroom. Pay attention!” She snaps at him. 

He shakes his head in amusement, “Whatever.” Then move forward to pass her and get to the door. 

Rin is quick in her step, bringing her palms forward to stop him right in his chest. She then get struck by how nice his chest feels under her palms, and mentally scolds herself for blushing at the thought of him for the second time. Gods, what is wrong with her?

“Aren’t you rich enough to rent another unit?” She asks him, ignoring how hard her heart is beating inside her chest. 

“Are you trying to take advantage of me?” He says, raising his eyebrows, knowing damn well it will never be an option, even when he’s capable of renting the entire building for himself. 

“What? Fuck, no!” She says, disgust seeping into her tone. 

“Then, what you mean to say is I should sleep on the couch?” 

“Exactly.” 

“Fuck, no!” He says to her, imitating her tone earlier, and surging forward again. 

Rin tries to keep on her ground, as she dugs her palms further into his chest, causing him to grimace. “I won’t take the couch,” she says stubbornly. 

“Then don’t take the couch,” he says casually. 

Her brain seems to freeze for a moment, before she understands what he’s implying. “What?! I would never,” she says, dropping her hands and swiftly averting her gaze from his towering figure. Damn him and his genes. 

Nezha narrows his eyes at that, and even with her head directed sideways, she can still manage to pick up when exactly the corner of his lips lift up in an infuriating smirk. 

“Ah,” he says, all the self satisfaction, and arrogance seeped into that one syllable, “are you scared to sleep with me, Rin?” 

Rin’s head snaps up in annoyance, furiously glaring at him. “You sound creepy as fuck,” she informs him, spitting the words out. 

“Oh, but I promise that I’m not creepy, Rin,” he says at last, walking leisurely, mockingly, into the door. Leaving Rin behind, fuming red. 

…

Morning comes with a cold chill that pricks at her skin, as she could see how the world outside turns even whiter for almost every second. Rin rubs her eyes roughly, trying to swipe away the last remaining of sleep from her eyes. She then tries to get up, and finds that her back hurts quite badly from sleeping on the couch out of sheer stubbornness. Great. Just great. 

After a minute of forcing her back to snap back itself to the right place, Rin got up from the couch, and managed to get herself stumbled by a box that Nezha chose to just leave beside the couch. 

Now she’s starting to feel like Nezha is some kind of curse sent to punish her for whatever her sins are. 

“Nezha!” she calls him, rather aggressively though her gritted teeth. 

The asshole has the audacity to come from the kitchen area with a fancy mug sitting in between his palms, and looking absolutely immaculate. He is dressed with a white button-down shirt, and a form-fitting jacket suit that looks like it was tailored to hug his body perfectly, then he also wears straight cut trousers that compliments his long legs very well. She wonders how come he looks that good in this ungodsly hour, while she probably still has a trickle of drool leaking from the corner of her mouth. 

At the mere thought of it, she is quick to wipe the corner of her mouth with the sleeve of her pajama, and sighs in relief when she finds no sign of drool on it. 

Rin then needs to stop herself from staring at Nezha, and his expensive looking suit that surely equals her income for an entire year, bringing her head up to look at his ridiculous face instead. 

“What do you want?” He asks her, a displeased expression crossing his face.

The initial irritation seems to snap back into her face. “I don’t know whether you’re stupid, incompetent, or both,” she says, hands placed on either side of her waist, ”But why would you leave this fucking heavy box here of all places?” She snaps, gesturing wildly at the box sitting beside her feet. 

He looks like he’s about to snap back at her, frown deepening, and mouth ready to slip out one or two snide marks. But when his gaze follows her gesture below, she can see a flicker of emotion that changes his whole demeanor. His frown falls, and his mouth shuts into a thin line. Then, without another word, he set the mug down to the table nearby, and bent down to pick up the box to be put inside their bedroom. 

The sudden silence and the abrupt change of attitude startles her, making her feel somehow awkward to be suddenly left alone in that room. 

She still feels kind of dazed when he gets out of the room. That, somehow makes the situation even more confusing, as they can’t help but stare into each other’s eyes, not knowing what to do with their hands. 

The silence lingers, until Nezha decides to break it with a cough, “You… you should get ready, we’re leaving in thirty minutes,” he says to her, picking up the mug he left before, and proceeds to walk back to the kitchen area. 

…

It is obvious that Nezha has his own business in this mission, and it is most likely that he would think the same of her. But at the sort of exchange they had earlier, the tension that’s now hanging around them is different than the childish rivalry they usually had. It is like facing the truth and stripping down the veil to the fact that they would never really work on the same side. Their own interests and political views would make sure of that. 

As they march into the newspaper agency, both of them seem content in letting the silence stretch wide and broad to provide distance between them. That is until a loud- embarrassing sound that suspiciously comes from her stomach breaks the silence. 

She mutters a curse under her breath, only now realizing she hasn’t had anything for her stomach  since last night after her performance. Beside her, Nezha’s long strides quickens to round a corner, leaving her flushing madly in the middle of the street. 

Is it that embarrassing that he needs to leave her behind? She thinks idly, and can’t help but to feel annoyed by it. 

When she finally rounds the corner, her nostril is suddenly invaded by various smells of food that makes her stomach grumble for the second time that day. She can see some of the shops here are preparing to open their stalls and push out their food carts. Just when she is about to approach one of the vendors that smells particularly really good, she finds Nezha already standing in front of the food cart, giving the lady his money, and muttering a polite thank you to her. 

Nezha turns back at the same time Rin’s about to call out for the lady. But then Nezha stops her, dangling his order in front of her nose, making the sweet smell inside wafting into her. 

“What is it now?” She asks him, still feeling the annoyance flares inside her chest.. 

“For you,” he says simply, placing the paper wrap inside her hand, and once again walking ahead of her. 

She peeks a look inside and finds five steamed buns inside, filled with sweet red beans, exactly how she likes it. When she opens her mouth about to thank his rare kindness, he beats her to it, stopping on his tracks and turning back to look at her, wearing a smile that involuntarily sends her heart to skip a beat. 

“Wouldn’t want my wife to be hungry at work, would I?” He says, then grins even wider at seeing her annoyance come back in full force. 

“Don’t call me that!” 

“Call you what?” He asks, tilting his head curiously, like he seriously doesn’t know what she’s talking about. 

“You know what I mean, asshole,” she says flatly.

“Ah,” that teasing glint glides into his eyes. “But I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Rin should just drop the topic. He’s an idiot, and she doesn’t need anymore confirmation for that. But out of some foreign forces she still manages to indulge him instead. “Calling me your wife,” she says softly, almost timidly. 

“Hm?” He asks. “I couldn’t quite catch that,” he says, lowering his right ear closer to her lips. 

Rin is thinking about screaming into his ear, see how he’d react to that. But before she can indulge further into the thought, she thinks it’ll be better to make his ear bleed in another way. Grinning mischievously to herself, she gets up on her tiptoe, closing the distance between her mouth and his ear, then bites into it. 

The pain pierces immediately, as he jerks upward to cover his ear. “What the fuck, Rin?” He says, voice withered from the pain. She can see how his ears turn slightly red from the bite, and catches the same color painting his cheeks. 

Funny how that works, huh.

Rin only grins wider, feeling too satisfied with herself. “Ouch… I’m sorry, I thought your ears might need a little bit bite of encouragement.” 

In front of her, Nezha still holds onto the bitten ear, glaring down at her, only to find the most ridiculously fake innocent face ever. “Little bitch,” he utters under his breath. 

“No need of flattery,” she says, patting softly at the back of hand that covers his ear. “You’ll be fine.” 

She can see how he freezes for a moment, his expression suddenly serious. There’s a keenness in the state of his posture, as if he’s trying to make something out. It took him another moment to finally get a hold of himself, straightening his posture. Then out of nowhere, he snakes his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer into his side. 

She’s about to protest, and shrugging his arms off. But it dies down on her throat when he suddenly says, “My wife is pregnant. Please excuse us,” he says politely to an old man that’s been sitting in front of a photography shop, observing their exchange. 

The old man doesn’t answer him, shaking his head in disapproval and muttering something like, “Young lovers these days,” and “Lover’s spat.” 

Rin can see there’s surprise in the lining of his face at the sudden acknowledgment of his presence there. Given the distance between them and the old man, Rin’s also surprised Nezha chose to address him of all people. 

Without even looking down, he presses her closer to his chest “You hear him, Rin. Let’s not have another lover’s spat in the middle of the street,” he says under his breath, guiding her forward into the agency’s direction, rapidly growing the distance between them and the old man. 

She knows then that his words have meaning something else. 

…

It is another ten minutes of walking until they get into the Hesperian's side of the city. Rin isn’t sure when exactly this division happened, but it certainly brought a huge impact into the city, pushing back any Nikaran that lived here into the other side, and completely changed what existed here. 

The Hesperians are surely making sure they make a huge mark on this land, as you can tell the differences between the two sides. There’s no sign, nor any board written in Nikaran. In fact, there’s nothing in sight that remotely resembles Nikaran’s culture. All the buildings and installment are made in a Hesperian’s architecture, looking all stiff and plain, devoid of any ornament to embellish them. Looking around, she realizes that there’s also no Nikaran in sight as well. The latter fact inflicts an unnecessary amount of attention directed at the two of them, and not the good kind either. 

The indignation that flares inside her chest also doubles when her eyes meet a huge sign outside what seems like a public garden that reads NO NIKARAN ALLOWED. She almost burst out laughing at the irony of it. These foreigners truly regard themselves so high above to drive out the Nikaran, and even forbid them to enter spaces inside their own country!

Rin looks sideways to observe Nezha’s reaction to all of these. Perhaps that can be a lead to her side task in this mission. But he wears an expression that is neutral enough, careful to not betray any emotions. 

After another five minutes of walking on the sidewalk, the office compound finally comes into view. The main building is situated at the end of a short driveway. A tall iron railing with an intricate gate enclosed the compound, and the booth inside controlled the gate’s opening and closing. When Rin looks up, she can see a closed-circuit television perching at the top of the railing, surveilling who came in and out of the building. Try as they might to insist this is a regular workplace, it is guarded like a true empire hub. 

Just when she thought about that, a man that’s been sitting inside the booth got up at the sight of them. He approaches them with an expression that Rin assumes isn’t very pleasant, like one would show when they see a disturbance. 

“May I help you?” He asks them, voice clipped in a tone that betrays how unlikely he’d be willing to help them at all. 

Nezha’s posture is relaxed, his gait is confident as he flashes the man one of his charming smiles. “We’re employees, new recruits,” he says as a way of informing. 

The man raises one of his thin eyebrows, appraising him before averting his gaze to Rin, then tilting his head to one side, as if confused of her existence there. “I hear nothing about new recruits. You have the access card?” He asks Nezha, not addressing her presence at all despite Nezha’s obvious statement of including the both of them as the new employees. 

Nezha seems to catch the same thing, as he puts his palm to ghost over her lower back, keeping that business-like smile on his lips. “Ah, that sort of error tends to occur,” he says, keeping his tone light. “But as you probably can see, this is me and my wife’s first day in the office. So we have yet to receive our access cards.” 

Rin forces herself not to twitch, both from the irritation that lodges inside her chest because of the sheer audacity of this guard to ignore her, and also from the all too aware feeling of Nezha's warm palm in the small of her back.

The man rubs his hand at the back of his head. He seems to fail at detecting the sarcasm seeped into Nezha’s words, “I see,” he says, furrowing his brows as if thinking hard what to do in this situation. “Let me have a quick call.” 

Nezha makes a quick nod as the man retreats to his booth. They can see as he picks up the telephone, mouthing something too low for them to hear to the other person on the line. After a moment of silence, the man seems to be rigorously nodding his head in answer, acting as if the other person can see what he’s doing while repeatedly saying yes. 

Rin averts her gaze away, pretending like she hasn't been trying hard to gauge what’s happening inside the call as the man puts down the phone, striding to their way again. The man comes back to them with a sour look on his face, “You can go inside. The secratary is waiting in the lobby to have you look around,” he says, still only addressing Nezha. 

“Alright, thank you for withholding us here,” Rin says, clasping both of her palms as she sidesteps him to get inside the gate. 

Behind her, she can hear Nezha’s thank you, then his long strides catch her in the middle of the driveway. “Wasn’t your best one, I think,” he says simply, not bothering to clarify what he meant by that. 

“Hmm…” she hums in response. “It’s unfortunate I never ask about what you think, though.” 

…

It’s a surprise enough to learn from the receptionist that the said secretary’s name is Lin Faye, a Nikaran name. But then…

“Oh Gods.” The quiet exclamation had slipped out of its own accord. Rin can feel her mouth agape, feeling astounded by the sight of a woman standing in front of her. The woman- Lin Faye, welcomes them with a broad grin on her face, charming enough to show professionality, while simultaneously being furtive enough to show hidden message in there. 

“The new recruits, I presume?” She asks them, still wearing that smile on her deep red lips. 

Rin quickly shuts her mouth, wearing a pleasant smile of her own before stepping closely to Nezha’s personal space, posing as a nice-lovely newly wed couple. A bit of convincing here and there about their delusional love and relationship hasn't become a big problem inside her mind. But it hasn’t occurred to Rin that the act of convincing will include the Sring Venka herself. 

A person who got all their history of hatred plastered vividly inside her memory

Chapter Text

“That’d be us.” Nezha’s the one to respond to that, leaning his body towards her. Rin can’t sense any trace of surprise within his voice, nor does he sound confused by the presence of his childhood best friend in front of him. 

“Perfect. It is through here,” Venka says, gesturing for the both of them to follow her lead. 

Like a lot of things happened in her life, oftentimes Rin gets lost in finding a way to respond to her surroundings. This scene is precisely one of those times. As this Lin Faye leads them ahead to get to the production department, Rin wonders which way she should respond to this woman. 

Rin feels a gentle tug on her elbow just in time for her to avoid two people bustling down the hallway with piles of paper in their arms. The hand lingers for a bit too long before she jerks her elbow away from the touch. 

Venka leads them to the end of the hallway, striding into one of the elevators, and pressing on the button to go upstairs. When the doors open, two Hesperian men in formal attire walk out of it. In front of them, Venka greets them in a polished Hesperian, making her receive nods of acknowledgement from the two men. 

“The blonde one is Mr. Joseph. You two will ultimately report to him,” Venka explains when they get inside the elevator. 

Standing closely inside the small space, Rin looks up, trying to gauge what Nezha’s currently thinking in the moment. But he merely keeps his expression blank. However, as soon as they step out of the elevator, and Venka turns back to face them, he wipes on a small smile, looking around to observe the second floor of the office. 

“This should be your place,” Venka says to Rin, gesturing at the smaller desk beside the department’s receptionist. 

If she remembers correctly from the office map Kitay had given them, each department would be more or less organized the same. One large desk by the elevators to deal with visitors into the department, a grouping of cubicles in the center for employees, and then offshoot doors stemming along the hallways where the higher-ups have their own privacy. There’s also a narrow hallway right before the stemming doors, most likely leading to the storage rooms, bathrooms, and also a janitor room. 

There’s no one occupying the larger receptionist desk. Understanding her confusion, Venka splays on a small smile, “that’d be Sarah. You'll see her soon,” she says. 

“Oh… alright, thank you.” Rin can only hope that this Sarah will not be one of those infuriating Hesperian woman that has nothing but a viper for a mouth, 

Venka’s eyes are on Nezha now. “I can show you to your desk over there.” 

“Great.” Before Rin can react, Nezha leans over to kiss her temple. The following reaction is one she can’t control, her body goes as taut as a wet cat, all of her muscle tensing. Though she doesn't need to worry because his lips barely touch her skin. If anything, it feels more like a brush of wind has kissed her temple. 

“Right.” It comes out as a whisper, then when she finally gets a hold of her voice, “I’ll see you later,” she says nicely in a hope of doing some damage control.

…

Lin Faye gets struck by a sudden force that pulls her into the narrow hallway. The culprit takes a firm hold on her wrist, pulling her into the darkest corner, far from everyone’s sight that might pass over the hallway. She almost throws a hand at the culprit, thinking it is some perverted asshole that has dragged her here, but then the culprit lets go of her hand, looking up so now she can clearly see, and realizes who that is. Her features relax, she once again puts up that mysterious smile that makes Rin want to tug her hairs out of its roots in frustration. 

“Ah,” she starts, “Mrs. Zheng? Is there anything I can help you with?” She asks her, still putting on a pretense that they don’t know each other even when they’re currently hidden under the dark hallway. 

Rin ignores that. "So you go ahead with this whole identity fraud?" She asks instead, goes straight to the point, and breaks out of her cover along with it. 

Venka raises one of her eyebrows, her eyes glinting in amusement. "I'd say you’ve done the same thing?" Then adds with a mischievous smile, "and even go out of your way to marry your so-called ’ greatest enemy’," she air quoted the last part. “To be very honest, Rin,” she says, facing up her palms to the air, “I never knew you had it in you.” she puffs out a laugh, “I’m not complaining, of course. Just surprised,” she finishes, gazing at Rin’s increasing glare. 

“Are you done?” She asks her in a flat tone. 

Now she’s regretting her decision to get out of her way and ask Venka that question. Rin had assumed that Venka changed her name, and her entire identity as a way to be independent from her pathetic father. Though she made that assumption solely because that’s pretty much the only thing Venka's been gushing over since their second year in the academy. Moreover, she’s trying to tally how much act she needs to put up about her relationship with Nezha when she’s around.

Venka still has that infuriatingly gorgeous smile on her lips when she says, “do you not want me to finish?’ 

“Just answer my question.” 

“How about you answer mine?” 

“I asked mine first.”

“Hmm…”

“Venka!” She accidentally exclaimed her name aloud. “Just answer it!” She then whisper-yells. 

Venka sighs, “for a national agent, and a Sinegard’s top graduate, you sure aren't the brightest, aren’t you?’ She puts up a hand before Rin can voice out her protest, “how do you think Kitay got his lead to here, Rin?” 

Rin immediately shuts her mouth. “Oh…” is her only response. 

“Yeah.”

“Well, fuck. Did Nezha know?” 

Venka’s answer gets interrupted by a cough from behind her, “I believe gossiping around isn’t part of your job desk, Ms. Lin.” 

The two women suddenly freeze, creating a line of silence about them. Rin can feel how hard her heart pounding; it'd be impossible for Venka not to hear it. 

“Sarah! I believe you haven’t meet Mrs. Zheng?” Venka quickly amends their awkward silence, speaking in flawless Hesperian before placing her palm on Rin’s forearm. “She doesn’t understand any shits about Nikaran language,” she says, switching smoothly into Nikaran with the same pleasant tone she had earlier. 

“I would really appreciate it if you can communicate with me in a globally-recognized language.” 

“See? She’s an idiot,” Venka says in Nikaran, displaying a sweet smile as if she wasn’t just insulting this Hesperian woman. 

“Ms. Lin?” 

“Ah, yes, pardon me. Our new employee here is still practicing her conversational Hesperian, so she might need a little bit of help.” 

Rin’s skill in Hesperian language is exceptional-of course, but she wouldn’t try to correct her at the moment. 

This woman-Sarah, responds by narrowing her eyes at her, appraising her look from up to down. “The agency would never hire such incompetent.” 

Rin’s first instinct is to jump on this woman. But she has a vivid idea of how people here might react to that. This Hesperian woman is the receptionist she needs to assist while she’s working here, so it’ll be better to go against her strong desire to claw her eyes out, for now.

“Obviously,” Venka says. “She understands just fine. It’s just that, this is her first day to actually practice her knowledge in the language, so please be nice to her,” she explains to Sarah, playing on a pitiful yet hopeful face that is guaranteed to attract anyone’s sympathy. “Right, Mrs. Zheng?” 

No words come out of Mrs. Zheng’s mouth, resulting in an elbow dugs into her side. 

A muffled choke, then, “I’m hoping for your guidance,” she says, bowing her head slightly in what she hopes is a hopeless manner these Hesperians like to see on Nikaran folks. 

Sarah scoffs. "Right. Now come here, and I’ll explain to you about the job.” 

Rin almost turns out of the hallway when Venka’s voice cuts through the silence from behind her. “Oh yeah, he definitely knows.” 

The gears turn inside her head, trying to figure out what she was talking about. But then, her earlier question rings inside her mind.

“Did Nezha knew?”

Rin can’t help but to snap her head to the direction of the employee’s cubicle, roving her eyes among the heads of people, a burning question at the tip of her tongue. The man in question is somehow already looking at her. He tilts his head in confusion at seeing her obvious displeasure. 

What the fuck was that kiss for, then? 

…

Rin would rather cut out her tongue than admit she’s afraid of Yin Nezha, of all people. But as she assesses her current predicament, she couldn't find any other reason to the fact that she’s currently avoiding him at all cost. 

The first thought that crosses her mind when she finds out about his idle kiss is a pure-unrestrained hatred. Is that his new way to belittle her? It must've been so fun to put on such display for nothing but provoke a reaction out of her.

The thought has spiraled so much inside her head that it's enough to stoke a fire within her that always exists for him. And gods, she knows she’s being absolutely dramatic right now. It was barely a kiss! Yet the mere thought of it has made her stomach do things so uncomfortable she somehow can’t bear to look, or even to spare a glance at him. 

So her mission now is to avoid him as much as she can. Though once again, the gods have proven that they are in fact-not on her side. 

“Will you stop avoiding me?” The sudden voice right on the shell of her ear sends a jolt down to her spine. “What is wrong with you?’ He asks, then his hand shoots out to catch her elbow before she can run away again. 

“You’re so full of yourself, you know that?” 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” His hand pulls her closer, turning her body so she can face him. 

“You make a disgusting accusation. Why would I run away from you?’ 

From up close, she can pinpoint the moment his face scrunched up in annoyance. “Yeah? So what was it you’re doing just a moment ago?” 

“Get back to my work because I’m actually trying to get some work done here.” 

Nezha narrows his eyes at her. “It’s lunch break.” 

“What can I say? I’m a hard worker.” 

He chooses to ignore that. “"Have lunch with me.’

“No.”

“I believe you’re aware why we’re posing as a married couple in the first place, my wife ,” he deadpans, switching to Hesperian for the latter words. 

Rin represses the urge to make a face at that. What kind of freak calls his wife that way? 

“Umm…” she starts, searching for a way to escape the possibilities of having to sit together with him. “Faye actually invited me to join her and the others for lunch. It’s also important, you know, to socialize and make friends, gathering information-all those very important stuff,” she says, emphasizing each word through her hand movements. 

Right when she finishes her sentence, Venka and two Hesperian women pass over them, walking like a savior in the shining armor that she precisely needs at the moment. “Ms. Lin!” Rin calls her. 

Venka stops in her tracks, causing the other two to almost bump into her back. “Mrs. Zheng?” 

“Please wait for me,” she says to her, sending a signal to just nod along, and hoping she understands that. 

“Sure,” she says, feeling unsure. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby.” Venka gives Nezha a slight nod of acknowledgement before striding along to the elevator. 

“I’m sorry, let’s have lunch tomorrow.” 

Nezha looks at her skeptically, even when he lets her strolls away to catch up on Venka. 

…

The next day, they are definitely not having lunch together. Rin’s still adamant to stroll away from Nezha’s invitation, making up the same excuse about gathering information, and striding away before he can even open his mouth. 

Truth to be told, there isn’t much she can take from a bunch of gossip that is spread along the employees. In the last couple of days, what she manages to learn is that the manager might be hooking up with a secretary from the writing department while his wife at home is currently pregnant with their second child. What an asshole.  

“What about your husband, Mrs. Zheng?” 

She’s currently walking on her way back to the office, along with Venka and two other women from yesterday, Anne and Sandra. They’re in the Nikaran side of the town now, having chosen to eat local food as the other two Hesperian women had requested. Rin thinks these two women are at least better than most. They’re a bit bearable, and not constantly make her want to commit a homicide. 

“Mrs. Zheng?” Anne-the one with blonde hair calls her again. 

“Oh yes, sorry.” Then she realizes what the question was. “What do you mean about my husband?”

“I mean… are you sure he’s the loyal type?” 

“Yeah, of course! One hundred percent, there’s no way he will do something like that.” Nezha is horrible for so many reasons, but she's quite sure infidelity isn’t one among them. 

“You really sure about that, huh?” Venka’s the one to ask, amusement filled her eyes. 

The other two women snap their heads to look closely at her, trying to gauge her lie dead in the eyes as if they expect her to suddenly burst out crying and confess her husband’s illicit affair. Rin feels awkward under the weight of their gazes, scared that the slightest use of wrong words might give their cover away.  

“Obviously! There’s no way I can marry him if I know he’s not loyal.” 

Anne looks somehow sad hearing her response. “Are you two being arranged? I heard there are still lots of parents practicing it here.” 

Rin almost can’t repress her flinch. Beside her, Venka also has a similar reaction to her. That’s definitely not the response they were expecting. “No, why would you assume such a thing?”

Anne, and Sandra share a look. “I’m sorry if it’s come out like I’m trying to pry your personal business, it’s just that… you two look distant from one another?” 

Well, it isn’t incorrect. She’s in no mood to be anywhere near Nezha, as she always does. But it’s a bit complicated now since she is supposed to act like she’s so in love with him she can die. It’s just that, he's always trying to do some ridiculous things when they’re together. Like when he held her in the elevator this morning, or his casual kiss when he parts away to get to his desk. He has the nerve to do all those things to her, and snatched away every bit of focus inside her mind. That certainly wouldn’t do her any good in this mission. 

Rin is saved from having to respond to Anne when they hear a loud shriek break into the air. Both Rin and Venka run toward the scream by instinct, leaving the other two women behind-bewildered and scared. 

There’s a crowd gathering in front of an alley. The said alley sits in between two restaurants which are busy with patrons at this lunch time. That will explain the enormous crowds the scene had created in such a short time. 

“Hey! What happened?’ Venka asks a little boy that passes them, pulling him aside by his sleeve. 

Rin thinks she has a good idea of what happened in this alley, even before the boy open up his mouth. 

“Monster! The monster has killed that woman!” The boy exclaims in horror, pointing in the direction Rin suspects where the body of the woman lays, lifeless. 

The crowds are packed from shoulder to shoulder you’d have to elbow everyone to pass through. But as a certain someone from the front turns back, facing towards the mouth of the alleyway, the crowd parts for them, letting them walk through the bodies, untouched. 

The motion seems weird to Rin. These people seem like they don’t realize they’d given this stranger a way. They look dazed that Rin would presume they don’t even register the strange presence at all. When the crowd parts at last, it gives them a clear view of the woman laying on the ground, blood smears all over her frame. 

“In the broad daylight?” Anne asks particularly no one from behind, her breath labored from running all the way to catch up on them. 

The stranger walks past them, their face goes fully unnoticed as they had lowered their hat, covering most of the part besides their mouth. Rin has the strongest urge to follow them, but Venka’s hand circled around her wrist in an instant, shaking her head in disapproval. 

“Ugh..” There’s suspiciously a gagging sound  “I think I’m gonna throw up all of my lunch.”

“Oh, please don’t do that.”

…

The rest of the workday passes with almost no accident. 

Well, besides the accident that happened at lunchtime, of course, or if you can count Sarah as an accident. The woman has a problem with literally anything. She constantly bugs Rin with her whining, and protests. Though she’d say Venka’s statement about her lack capabilities in conversation has work in her favor in this case, since that avoid her from being Sarah’s object of torture. 

Still, she’d assume this day has run smoothly with ‘almost’ no accident. Her mood also relatively feels better from the lack of a certain someone’s face to ruin her day. That ages pretty well until Nezha decides to confront her, and her tendency to avoid him in the office.

“You walk so fast, sweetheart.”

Rin turns around, surprised that they let him go out already. She couldn’t even sense he’s coming up behind her. “All so I don’t have to see your face.” 

Nezha laughs as if she’d tell him a funny joke. The laugh strucks her that she can’t help but flinch by the force of it. He looks over his shoulders, inspecting the office building behind them where several employees have gathered. 

Rin sees them too, suddenly feeling alert. "Are they suspicious?”

“You tell me, Rin.” His voice is very serious now, gone all the traces of laughter it’d been mere seconds ago. “There were three employees that asked me whether we’re an arranged match or not in these couple of days,” he says. 

His words stop her brain for a moment. Anne’s words from earlier ring inside her mind. Rin guesses she’s right. They look distant from one another, and this can lead to a bigger problem if they’re not immediately solve it. 

“What do we do?”

“They asked me to have dinner with them,” he informs her, conveying the unspoken words. 

“Are they trying to dig into us?”

He shrugs, “perhaps.” 

“Okay,” is her only response. 

She’s about to come over the gathering employees when his fingers wrap themselves around her wrist. “We’re in love, are we not, sweetheart?” 

Rin swallows the longing to roll her eyes in disgust, instead displaying a sweet-timid smile as if he just told her some flirtatious remark. “Oh, we definitely are, beloved.” 

Chapter Text

Her hand feels clammy where it wraps around the fold of Nezha’s arm. The act should’ve looked sweet, like a disgusting married couple that can’t help but to touch each other all the damn time. But at that point, she’s too nervous that the display looks more like she clutches Nezha’s arm to hold on for dear life. 

“Are you okay?” A voice whispers in her ear. Nezha uses his free hand to touch her head, stroking the top of her hair lightly with a look of concern so genuine it almost fool herself, 

Almost, and that makes something familiar coiled inside her chest. A feeling she has no desire for naming that seems to grip her heart every time he does something so good. Every time he does something better than her. Because it looks now that even acting is one of them. 

This feeling started years ago when she realized what he is and what she could never be. Rin hates how the mere thought of him being better in acting can cause her to feel emotion so profoundly, so she tries not to dwell so much on the feeling. Though looking at Nezha’s ridiculous face leaning so close to hers, she knows she doesn’t do a very good job in doing so. 

“Why are you scowling?”

“I’m not,” she retorts, definitely twisting her face in a scowl. 

His fingers gently brush her forehead in an attempt to smooth it out, making her inadvertently back her head away from him, scowling further. 

“Do you not remember what I was saying five minutes ago?” He points out, furrowing his eyebrows in displeasure. 

Before she can retaliate, a deep voice cuts in, calling the two of them. Rin can feel her muscles tense for a moment, thinking it must be one of those reprimands they get every time they’re conveying in their language. Even when they’re literally standing in their own land, and even when those people are not part of the conversation. Rin would never understand why they keep on doing it. 

Nezha’s the one to respond to the voice, emitting his smile to the man sitting in front of him. “Yes, sir?” 

They are now currently sitting in one of the long tables inside the restaurant located five minutes away from the agency. All of the menus consist of western cuisine that she had skimmed over before saying she’d have everything the same with what her husband ordered. It isn’t because she hates the Hesperian so much she has no desire to eat whatever they serve here, it’s a free food after all, and she will never put off such an opportunity. It’s just the fact that her stomach is churning so bad that it’s eventually affected her mood this evening. 

That man who’s currently looking close into their interaction is one of the reasons for her increased heart rate, and restless nerves. He is supposed to be the superior she and Nezha will ultimately report back on, Mr. Joseph if she remembers correctly. 

When Nezha told her about a few employees that ask them to have dinner together, he never mentions that the one initiating the act is their higher up himself. She starts to think that they’re in the bigger problem now. 

Mr. Joseph’s face breaks into a smile, “Ah, I’ve always loved young lovers,” he says, looking more like a caring grandfather now that his intense gaze had shed away. “Now, you two shall tell me how you met.” 

If Nezha can feel how hard her nails have dug into his arms, he doesn’t show it. He smiles even brighter now, showing his perfect teeth, then looking far ahead as if recounting the sweet moments that is when they met. 

“Let me see,” he starts, then laughs a little. “I’d say we weren't really fond of each other when we first met.”  

Rin can’t help but scoff at his statement, causing the two men to turn their heads at her. On seeing Mr. Joseph’s questioning face, she’s fast to explain herself. “Weren’t fond of each other is definitely an understatement, sir,” she says, mimicking Nezha’s little laugh. 

“Is that so?” Mr. Joseph asks, 

“Yeah, it might be is,” Nezha indulges, “We first met on our orientation day, back in the academy, and well… I guess I was a foolish kid back then, and said some hurtful things to her.” His eyes are pinned on her face now, “that got me a black eye for at least a week.” 

“Now you’re just over exaggerating what happened,” she says exasperatedly, adding a hint of what she hopes sounds like an affection inside her tone. 

Rin is surprised that he hasn’t created some imaginary stories to flourish how they first met. But then she thinks, if you want your lie to be believable, it’d be best to get as close as possible to the truth. 

“Wah…” The man chuckles, looking amused at the two of them. “The classic hate to love, then?” 

She barely represses the shudder that goes through her body at the thought of shifting her hate to love. Though she finds herself answering, “It is something like that.”

“What is happening after that, then?” 

She nudges Nezha’s side, urging him to continue spinning the tale. 

“Precisely like you said, sir, we absolutely hated each other back then,” Nezha continues, telling the story so familiar she can trace back to the exact moments she experienced them. Only this version of the story seems lovely, filled with perfect romantic tropes that even get some of the female employees' eyes sitting around them gleaming in awe. 

Her ears have stopped listening to whatever bullshits he’s giving them when her eyes catch on something- or rather someone sitting two tables away in front of them. That someone trickles a memory at the edge of her mind. 

Where has she seen this man before? 

The presence of an old Nikaran man shouldn’t bother her as much. But she is too trained to not notice the man's stealing glances on both she and Nezha the entire time they're here. She recalls the man entered the restaurant not long after her party arrived. Is he following them, then? 

The man- on his part, seems to notice that she’s been made aware of his presence there. He calls one of the servers to give him the bill, and before she realizes what she’s doing, Rin gets out of her seat, startling Nezha in the middle of his story. 

“What’s wrong, Li Wei ?” He asks, calling her guise name. 

She’s glad he hasn’t tried to call her some ridiculous pet names in front of these people. That’d be too embarrassing for her to bear. “I’m truly sorry, I’m gonna need the restroom for a moment,” she says politely, giving Mr. Joseph a little nod of apology. 

In the corner of her eyes, she can see that the man’s already heading to the exit double doors. Before she gets to hear any response, she scurries out of the table, and heads to the direction where she thinks the restroom, and most likely the rear exit is placed. 

Behind her, Nezha appears to have a hold of what’s currently happening. He deftly continues his story, converging everyone’s attention into him. Rin fails to hear what he’s spurting inside there as she makes it to the rear exit, shuddering as the sudden gust of wind that attacks her frame. There’s no way she can retrieve her coat from the restaurant, so she needs to just swallow up the biting cold.  

Rin clenches her fist to her side, and runs . 

…

Red. Everything looks red through the eyesight of the monster. 

They can feel how their heartbeat increases drastically from its normal way. Their usually cold hands also feel sweaty. They had thought being undead meant they no longer had any connection to emotions. But as they make another round to a smaller road, they can feel how the presence of their stalker is enough to make them feel nervous.

The monster doesn’t understand when this started. They’re supposed to be the one doing the stalking, then striking the prey at their momentum. It’s inconvenient for them to be the one on the receiving end. 

The territory is also one they’re not very familiar with. The low sign of the bar hanging ahead of them is written in the language that is not their own. Contrasting the bustling roads they are used to, here on the other side, the roads are noiseless, there’s only muffled sounds derived from the bars around. The roads are dimly lit, and that makes everything even more complicated for the monster as it obscures their already red vision. 

When they finally get to the end of the road, the monster stops in their tracks, looking back over their shoulder. If their stalker wants to take a look at them, then they would’ve need to look at them square and fair from the front. 

The monster closes their eyes, blurring any other senses, and instead focusing closely to the only heartbeat behind their back. They can tell there’s a figure walking towards them, their labored breathing closing the distance. 

When the figure’s within their close range, their hand shoots out, grabbing at the bony shoulder, and slamming them to the ground. 

Blood is spurting everywhere, streaking the asphalt with a dark shade of red. The monster expects more struggle from the figure. But when they set their eyes underneath, the one they find isn’t the one that’s been stalking them. Instead, there laying on the ground is a drunk Hesperian man that must've just got out of one of the lining bars. 

Well, well… Now, that is convenient. 

…

"Don't you think Mrs. Zheng is a bit too late?" One of the female employees asks no one in particular. "Has something happened to her?" 

"Does she perhaps have an allergy or some sort to any of the food?" Now the question is directed to Nezha

Nezha is quiet for a moment, trying to find the best way to answer that question. "Ah, it's probably the coffee that upsets her stomach. My wife... she can be a bit stubborn when it comes to that," Nezha says, making sure to add a hint of worry inside his voice.

He doesn't lie about that. Though the fact that he’s aware of Rin’s inability to drink coffee makes him frown a little. How did he know, again?

"Should I look after her?" The previous employee offers. Nezha recognizes her to be one of the women that’d been accompanying Rin for lunch these past couple of days. 

He has quite the idea of what Rin might be doing right this second. He had realized the man too, his stealing glances, and weird gestures. Moreover, Nezha notices that he is the same man that had observed them outside the photography shop. It’ll be ugly if he really happens to have some motives against them, so it’s better for her to take care of him thoroughly. Though, he admits that Rin takes a longer time than he expects to deal with this man. The man is old, and looks frail, he can’t be that bad, can he?

“I’m sure she’ll be okay. She’s quite used to this already, you do not need to trouble yourself,” he replies. He wonders if he’s playing the bad husband right now, isn’t a good husband should tend to his wife? Even when the said wife is so stubborn they gladly hurt their own stomach. But then, he also thinks that this might be a good excuse to go out and see what she’s doing out there. 

“I think you might be right. She’s doing longer than usual,” he says, mustering as much concern into his face. “Let me be the one checking on her,” he tries to say, but his words get drowned out by a series of commotion outside the restaurant. Through the large windows lining the wall, he can see some people shouting the same words again, and again while running to the direction of the main road. Their words get dampened by the wall of the restaurant, but he doesn't need to come out the door to know what they're yelling about. 

The monster’s here. 

The following actions almost feel automatic. As Nezha and some of the others get out of their seats, and run out of the restaurant. In the midst of frantic pedestrians, Nezha runs to the other direction, heading towards the source of the commotion. 

Unlike the curious Nikaran, people here seem to back away at the grotesque scene in front of them. It isn’t hard for him to push through the crowd, and take a look at the corpse laying on the ground. He can feel someone behind also making her way into the front of the crowd, her much smaller body stopping right beside him. He doesn’t need to look sideways to see who it is. For his senses has known her too well, he seems to be drawn to her even in the most crowded place. 

“Huh?” The quiet query has slipped on its own accord out of her mouth.

“A really long restroom break, don’t you think?” 

“Shut up.” She’s frowning, though not from his insult, but rather at the corpse before them. 

He can practically see the gears inside her head turning, feeling as bewildered as he is now. If Kitay's claim had been accurate about the Hesperian being the one behind this supposed monster, why would they kill one of their own? Especially when their propaganda enforced the idea that the Hesperians are the one protected by the Maker. Then again, when was the last time Kitay was wrong about something? He personally can’t even remember that. 

In the corner of his periphery, he sees Mr. Joseph standing at the edge of the crowd, a conflicted expression passing over his aging face. 

It seems like they had all come to the same conclusion. 

Chapter Text

"It's starting to get more interesting, huh."

One hour after the incident, they’re now standing inside their apartment, hovering over the telephone to give their records of what just happened to Kitay. For his part, Kitay sounds more or less quite surprised with the new information. Nezha can hear how he’s currently doing some calculation of the turning event. 

"Do you have anything else for me, agents?" He asks them.

Both Rin and Nezha look at each other, feeling something suspended in the air about them. It's obvious there's something more they have in mind. but it'll be better to dig further into it before he dumps it to Kitay, and looking at Rin, she seems to be thinking the same way. 

"I think we're good, for now,” he says finally. 

"Alright, then. Stay sharp, agents. I'll call off the phone." It is most likely that Kitay is able to catch the hole inside their words but he refrains from saying anything else.

As soon as the telephone turns off, Nezha gestures for Rin to sit on the couch. She must be really tired at the moment, or else she would’ve made this simple instruction rather difficult for the both of them. Nezha sits at the end of the couch, patting the space beside him to let her sit there. In response, Rin pointedly ignores his signal, and chooses to sit in the single armchair instead, far away from him. 

He sighs inwardly, I guess some people are just adamant to stay true to their characters. 

"So,” he starts, trying to mask his exasperation. “About that guy in the restaurant, what do you do with him?"

Rin cocks her head, "I didn't do anything with that guy."

"What do you mean by that?" It’s rather hard to keep the exasperation at bay, isn’t it?

"I lost him,” she says casually, leaning her arm back leisurely like she didn’t just lose a big suspect for their mission. “That old man is pretty good.” Now she even gives him praise!

"Wait, wait... walk me through the events," he demands, eyebrows pulled taut in confusion. 

Rin rolls her eyes at his tone, "What the fuck you mean by that? I went out, ran, searched for the old man, and that monster thing happened." 

“Is that all?’

“Hmm,” she mumbles, yawning while stretching herself out like a cat. “It’s my turn to sleep in the bedroom, right?” She asks rhetorically, already heading towards the bedroom door. 

Nezha still can't quite wrap his head around this. There's something Rin doesn't tell him, something important to complete the story. He wants to press her for it. But from the look of it, she’s reluctant to share whatever it is with him. 

"You sure took your time, then." So he says that instead.

…

Everyone in the office look grim the next day, and Rin has a good idea on why that is. In Nikan, even in the most progressive region, words can spread like wildfire. Whispers of the monster’s appearance in this side of the city have reached her neighborhood, and that sure will not be a good look for the Hesperians' agenda. In fact, right at this moment, the agency appears to be desperate to come up with something to cover up last night’s incident. Though so far, in Rin’s humble opinion, it doesn’t look like it goes very well. 

Her closest colleague-Sarah, has been casting a dirty look to her way since this morning. She looks at her as if this is all her fault, somehow. So when she comes up to her with another deep scowl on her face, Rin assumes this might be the moment she finally lets out a piece of her vain thoughts. 

“Mr. Joseph calls for you,” she says, managing to muster as much disdain into the words, then proceeds to sit right back down to her chair, uncaring to hear Rin’s response. 

The jump of Rin’s eyebrows is immediate when instead of hearing another quip about her work, she gets a summon from the higher up. 

Rin wants to ask Sarah about which room she’s supposed to come up to, but the woman looks like she’s ready to eat her if she dares to call her name. Alright, then. 

Rin gets up from her chair, and heads to the offshoot doors stemming along the hallways where the higher-up’s supposed to be. Just when she nears one of the doors at the very edge of the hallway, someone walks right up to her, almost bumping the heavy-looking crate they are pushing. 

“Gods, are you moving out or something?” She can’t help but say. 

“Ah, I’m truly sorry.” says the one behind the crate in a heavy-accented Hesperian. He dips his head several times in her direction. His frame is evidently trembling in anxiousness. At a glance, he might look like he’s doing too much for a simple mistake. But then looking at his face, Rin knows the reason why. 

“It’s totally fine,” she says, switching to Nikaran. “Just be more careful after this. You never know who you might bump into.” 

The boy looks up, there’s a relief within his gaze as he once again dips his head in gratitude. “Of course. Thank you so much, miss,” he says in Nikaran. 

Rin doesn’t feel the need to correct him, so she steps aside to let him walk through. That poor boy, he must’ve been the object of so many unpleasant Hesperian here for him to develop some sort of anxiety hanging on about him. 

When the crate slides beside her, her eyes catch on a flash of familiar blue from the side of the wooden surface. At the sight of it, her mind goes straight to picturing the empire’s insignia. Now when she really thinks about it, the wooden crate looks very out of place inside the stiff-designed office. 

One of her hands shoots out to grip at the boy’s lanky arm, stopping him in his tracks. The boy falters, he looks back at her in confusion, grimacing from the tight grip Rin unintentionally gives him. “Is there anything I can help you with, miss?”

“Where’s Mr. Joseph’s room?” She asks him, slipping down her eyes to take a good look at the symbol painted on the crate’s side. What she finds there involuntarily raises one curious eyebrow. It’s almost true enough. Only in this insignia, there’s a dragon curling its body around the blue cross instead of the usual standing horses. 

The restless boy sighs in relief for the second time, pointing at one of the doors lining down the hallway. “It’s that one, miss,” he adds, his free arm ready to push at the crate once more, rushing to escape her appraising gaze. 

But Rin’s hand still wrapped tightly around his arm. She cools down her expression, trying to make her curiosity less pronounced through her gesture. “Is that the new paper?” 

If the Hesperian is indeed making this boy do their dirty work, then they definitely have made a huge mistake by picking him. Because not only is he super jumpy, this boy also does a terrible job at covering his dirty hands. 

“Yeah, obviously, miss,” he says hastily after taking too much time in silence. His eyes get so wide, and under her palm, she can feel how he’s shaking from the sheer nerve. 

She finally feels pity looking at those pleading eyes, and lets go of her tight grip around his arm. “Sure. Better get going, then.” 

As soon as he gets his arm back for himself, he nods his final goodbye at her, hurrying away toward the elevator, trying to put as much distance between them as fast as he can. 

Rin’s mentally memorizing the boy’s features, and turns her body back towards the hallway, heading to the one door he points at earlier. She raises her fist and knocked on Mr. Joseph’s office.

“Enter.” 

Rin turns the handle, then steps in. Mr. Joseph is sitting at his desk, fingers clacking down on his computer, gone all the traces of a kind-looking grandfather on his figure, leaving behind a stern-looking man with a permanent frown on his face. She performs a small bow at him, clicking the door closed after her. 

“Afternoon, Mrs. Zheng,” he greets her in Hesperian. He doesn’t slow down his typing, nor does he look up to face her,  “How’s your stomach?”

Rin is a bit taken back by the question, but that must’ve been the excuse Nezha used to cover her last night. “I’m all good, sir. Thank you,” she answers politely, folding her hands at her lap. “I was told you’ve summoned me?” 

“Ah, yes.” He finally stops typing, reaching under his desk and pulling open a drawer to retrieve something. In a short time, Rin’s eyes make a quick scan of the entire room. She inclines her head, surveying his desk subtly, finding some note cards, and some files piled neatly on top of his desk. Nothing suspicious. Rin swivels her head back to face Mr. Joseph, on time as he hands out a map to her. 

“I must give you this,” he says. “I want you to work on this. Production stores a lot of its excess material, so the marked crosses are the appropriate filling rooms. Please don’t put anything anywhere else, understand?” 

Rin moves forward, hand outstretching. Just as she takes the slip, Mr. Joseph’s phone rings, drowning out her thank you. 

As he begins to speak rapidly over the phone in Hesperian, Rin resumes her quest in his monochrome-themed room. Still nothing interesting… 

Until her gaze crosses over a crate by the corner of the room. Then she pauses. With a quick flick of her eyes at Mr. Joseph and finding him to be facing away, his attention fixates on whatever he’s indignantly explaining, she leans over and makes a quick scan of the crate’s surfaces. The same blue insignia she’d seen earlier painted proudly on the surface of it. An insignia that tickles something at the edge of her memory. Where had she seen this before? 

Before Mr. Joseph can spot her wandering interest, she straightens herself, playing on a curt smile on her lips. “Rough day, sir?” She asks just as he hangs up the phone. 

“Something like that.”

“I will distribute materials accordingly,” she assures him, clutching the paper tightly between her hands. “Is there anything you need from me?” 

Mr. Joseph waves his hand. “No, no. You can go back to work.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Rin backs out of the office, smoothing out the map in her hands, feeling a constant nagging at her memory for something. 

When she looks down on the map, there’s nothing she hadn’t seen before from the exact same thing she’d received from Kitay. Nothing seems insidious either. There are four levels with four red crosses on the first floor. Even the layout of Timeless Press can’t hide mysteries since each room is straightforwardly accessible, and marked clearly for its function. 

Rin sighs, proceeding back to her working space and making for her desk. It is when she settles back down at her desk that she finally realizes where she had seen the insignia before. It was in her bedroom. The bedroom she shares with Nezha. 

…

A night prior

“What’s up, Rin?” Says the one on the other line. “Don't you miss me? Or you’ve felt comfortable with your married life?” The annoying voice asks. Somehow even without seeing his face, Rin can vividly picture how lips curl in an irksome smirk. 

“Shut up,” she says, glaring at the phone, and hoping he’ll also be able to picture it vividly. “I’ve not yet found anything interesting, so I haven’t called you.” 

In the confines of her shared bedroom walls, Rin finally gets the chance to get in touch with Altan. The reason why is because she’s finally able to have the room only for herself tonight. Being the weirdly considerate asshole that Nezha is, he knows she’ll never succumb to the idea of sharing the bedroom with him. So they created a schedule instead to have the bedroom all to themselves. Tonight is one of those nights for her.

For now, Rin doesn’t have anything peculiar to tell him about, nothing he wasn’t already aware of anyway. She rather has a question for her commander. 

“Have you, now?” 

“No, not really. But can I ask you a question?” 

“Anything.” 

“Is there anyone new on the list?” Her voice is quiet now, her eyes instinctively pinning on the bedroom door, trying to make out any voices from the adjoin room. 

Altan laughs a little, “there’s always someone new on the list, Rin. You know how she is.” 

Rin grimaces, “a public enemy, isn’t she?” 

As the empress’ personal assassins, it is obvious that The Cike will be privy to any new, old, big, small, to the most and least threatening enemies Daji has. In return, their job is to eliminate them according to her calculated moves. Rin thinks it will not be dramatic to say they’re one of the busiest people in the country. 

“Of course she is.” Altan scoffs, then seemingly just realized what she had asked him. “Have anyone in mind?” 

“An old man.”

“There are at least ten on the list right now.” 

She makes an annoyed sound at the base of her throat. “Gods, how many enemies can this woman make?” 

“You’d be surprised.” 

“Fine. Old man, tall, soldier-build, grumpy-looking, strem blue eyes.” 

“Stern blue eyes? Are we talking about a Hesperian man?”

Rin frowns a little, “No. I mean he might be biracial, but other than his eyes, his features are totally leaning toward Nikaran.” 

“Huh.” There’s a rustle of papers on the other line, probably Altan looking over the long list of Daji’s mortal enemies. Then he pauses, and Rin can practically hear the dubiety when he says: “what did he do?” 

“Stalking me and Nezha. I’m not sure for how long, but I’m sure earlier wasn’t his first time.” 

“He’s on the bottom of the list. Whatever he did, Daji seems unbothered by him, for now.”

“I see.” 

Altan sighs, “Is there anything else, phoenix?” 

Rin tries to stop herself from smiling at the familiar moniker. “That’s all for now.” 

“Nothing about the Yin boy?”

She rolls her eyes at that,” no, nothing about him.” 

“Anything about him?” 

“Nope, not a single thing. I’ll call off the phone,” she says, ready to put down the telephone. 

“Wait, wait…” He suddenly exclaims, startling the shit out of her. “I have one thing to ask you.” 

“What?” 

“So,” he starts, and suddenly the bell of danger rings off in her head as he takes a dangerous turn in his tone. “Have you fulfilled your marital duty yet?”

Rin chokes on her spit as she can feel how her entire body gets heat up. “Stop being disgusting,” she snaps. His loud laughing gets cut off when she calls off the phone.

Marital duty, his ass. 

As she mutters curses under her breath, Rin manages to stumble by a box on her way to the queen-sized bed, resulting in her cursing some more unheard curses that will get the elders fainting if they hear her now. 

In the haze of her irritation, a memory of a similar scene nagging at her mind. She remembers stumbling by the same reason on her second day here, and by the same reason she means the box Nezha had acted suspicious about. 

Huh , she remembers telling herself to check the contents of it at the time, but she must’ve been so caught up with her new work life that she forgot about it completely. 

“Now we’re talking about the Yin boy,” she mutters to herself. 

The first thing she does is to walk back to where she stood before and inspect the box she’d stumbled into. Relying on her memory, this box is too small, and surely enough when she opens the lid, she’s met with a bunch of toys. Well, figurines might be the right word to it, but Rin can't see any point to tell the difference. Digging further into the box, Rin finds a questionable amount of miniature boats with different sizes inside. 

“Such a nerd.”

Deeming the box to be unworthy, she tries to put all the things back with how she first saw it, closing the lid, and placing the box near the wall so she wouldn't stumble on it anymore. 

She starts surveying the room, inspecting every corner and crook of places the box might be placed. To no avail, she can’t see any box in sight, has he unpack the contents and store it somewhere? 

The thought leading to another forty minutes of thorough scrutiny to every item inside the drawers they have in the room. Once again, she can’t find anything suspicious enough for him to act so protective about. Almost one hour into the quest, and she’s starting to admit defeat. Perhaps there’s really nothing worth worrying about inside the box. She’d checked all the possible places, all the drawers and spaces inside the room, yet she couldn’t find anything. 

She looks up at the ceiling, narrowing her eyes as she traces every line drawn on it, is it possible for him to store something there? 

But then her eyes can’t find any suspicious dent that might be the opening. “Maybe down here, then,” she whispers to herself, surveying the floor of the room now, knocking it lightly with her toes. Then she feels it, a floor near the bed that seems lighter than the other ones. She crouches down, tapping the floor with her knuckles and find that it also echoes weirdly, like there’s a space under it. 

Rin places one of her ears on the floor, knocking at it again. She realizes while it echoes weirdly, it also sounds too empty for it to be filled with anything. It's probably just a bad construction. Just when she’s about to sigh in defeat, her eyes catch on something under the bed, and the simplicity of it almost makes her laugh. Her hands reach out to retrieve the box, heart thumping in anticipation. 

She opens the lid and finds a telephone device inside, something only agents use to call their higher ups. Nothing exactly too suspicious about it, at least nothing she hasn’t heard of. She’s aware from the start that Nezha is likely to be a loyal informant to his family, but is it really all his hiding? 

The answer is found under the device. There’s a velvety trunk looking so out of place inside the cardboard box. But that’s not the only bizarre thing. There’s an insignia painted in the center of the lid. The insignia could be easily mistaken as the empire’s. But this one has a body of dragon curling around the cross instead of the standing horses she knows the empire has. 

When she tries to open up the trunk, she finds that it needs a key to do so. She has no talent to pry out a keyhole, but she knows someone in The Cike has. Now what she needs is the right time to give this out to them.

Chapter Text

Rin finally can make use of the building’s map that Mr. Joseph had given her a few days ago. Somehow, they decided to place all of the filing rooms on the first floor. Leading to her constant back and forth from her work space on the second floor, to the filing rooms below. The rooms are usually staffed by one or two assistant secretaries, listening to some crappy music or wolfing down a plastic tub of noodles. 

Rin never has to do the filing herself. Usually she just sets down the folders from production, then whoever occupies the small room would mutter a small “thank you” before waving her off. Today is a little bit different though. The filling rooms are located in the narrow hallway far from the main receptionist’s desk. This one particular room she needs to attend to is especially placed the farthest. When she opens the door to the small room, she doesn’t see any assistant secretary nor anyone occupying the room. 

Perhaps the assistant secretary is just going away for a moment to take one of their portions of cup noodles. Perhaps she should just set down the folders, and walk away instantly, like she always does. But her mind goes reeling back to the blue insignia she’d seen several times now, and perhaps, she can find something in here. 

Instinctively, she goes back to close the only access to the room. Her ears sharpen to hear any noise from the outside. When she’s sure there’s nothing out there, her eyes are fast to scan all the parts inside the room. One swipe of her eyes tells there’s nothing suspicious nor out of place from the room. Rows and rows of storage lining up from end to end of the room with folders neatly arranged in it. 

Rin walks through every row, carefully reading what is written on each of the labels that are glued to the folders. She checks for any box, occasionally picking out some items to inspect it further under her gaze. She starts to think she has no talent for this kind of task. Almost fifteen minutes of going back and forth inside the small room, she can’t find anything worth paying attention to. 

She goes reading the labels again, scared that she might miss something important. That’s when she hears a noise from the outside. As she hears another set of noises, her nerves immediately jump into action. She quickly sets down the folder she is holding. Her feet are light when it brings her before the door to the small room. 

Rin leans her face closer to the door, venturing to take a peek to the outside, and expecting the noise has derived from one of the assistant secretaries. However, her eyes catch on something that is far from her expectation. Although perhaps, it might be better. 

There, outside the door, is the same boy as she'd seen a few days ago pushing on some out of place looking crate. There’s nothing quite different from his appearances today. He’s still pushing on another out of place looking crate. His eyes darted carefully from right to left. 

Anyone looking at him right now wouldn't be able to tell something weird about him, something besides the crate, of course. There’s a janitor room just across this room, and it makes sense if you think the crate he’s been pushing is just some cleaning tool. But Rin doubts that it’s necessary to paint a crate for some cleaning tool with a mysterious insignia.

Rin’s eyes follow his cautious figure, as right to her prediction, the boy steps into the janitor room. Her eyes widened. Even with the small opening, and a dim light of the room obscuring her vision, Rin can almost swear that the room doesn’t look anything like one for a janitor. There’s not a single cleaning tool in sight, and instead of stopping, the boy turns right, then his figure can’t be seen anymore. As if there’s a bigger place for him to put the crate. As if there’s totally something else behind the door. 

Rin waits for several more minutes, making sure the boy will not come out anytime soon. Then she comes out of the filing room. Her eyes darted carefully before she brings her feet to step into the supposedly janitor room. 

Her eyes squinted slightly from the dark room, trying to make out what lays out before her eyes. Exactly as she thought, it is definitely not a janitor room but rather looks like an emergency stairs. The walls and the floor are unpolished, render a cool atmosphere to the room. Only there are no stairs inside this room. Though when she turns her head to the right, she can see an elevator placed there. It looks like a cargo elevator, and the only button exists is the one to let you go downstairs. 

Rin is sure both map of the building that Kitay and Mr. Joseph gave her included only four levels of the building. Nothing about a basement either. What is this, then? A secret level? 

…

“There’s a level that doesn’t exist on the map,” she whispers in Nezha’s ears, circling one of her arms around his waist, and leaning forward to say the words. She settles back onto her heels, smiling sweetly as if she hasn’t just told him something crucial. 

Rin has been contemplating whether or not she should tell him about her newest find. Then, decided that she can’t keep too many secrets to herself. It’ll bring too much suspicion, and she doesn’t wish to risk the chance for him to force his hands on her affair.  

Nezha shudders a little. Whether from how close she’s being, or the weight of her words, she doesn’t know. 

“Is this legit?’

Rin can’t help but to drop off her smile, slipping her expression back to its usual glare. “I’ve taken a look at it myself.” 

“What did you find?”

She sighs. “That’s the problem. The only access to get to that level requires a certain employee’s card, which clearly I don’t have.” 

Nezha’s eyebrows pulled taut together. He seems to be weighing the chances they can take. 

“Okay, we’ll investigate on the day of the New Year’s party. No one should be here by then,” he says, sounding firm. 

The New Year’s party will be two days away. Rin considers the suggestion inside her head. Besides the current importance, she also needs to give The Cike time, and access to their shared apartment so they can take the box. Because while they’d be away all throughout the day, Rin still needs to buy as much time before he can realize he has lost his box. 

“Okay.” 

He nods his head at her. Then looks up, gazing at something-or rather some people gathering some meters away behind her. He looks back down at her before saying, “I’ll introduce you to them.” 

His words are barely a warning when his hand clasps around her arm, practically dragging her to where some of his colleagues have gathered. 

Nezha is definitely a much more sociable persona than she could ever be. Thus, he has done his rounds, meeting every colleague in the department, and intent on making a good impression. As much as Rin hates to admit it, it’s proven now he’s been doing a really good job at it. It can be seen from how everyone’s eyes seem to lift up at seeing his approach to them. 

Rin ignores the burn of jealousy spreading on her chest at that.

“Hello,” the girl on the far right says to her. She beams at them, especially when her eyes land on Nezha’s face. “You must be Mrs. Zheng.” Her hand extended to meet hers, though her eyes are stubborn to be fixed on someone else’s face beside her. 

Rin’s hand reaches out to shake. Her lips curving on a smile that she hopes doesn’t look too forced. 

Nezha seems oblivious to her attention pinning on him. He watches Rin instead, developing a loving expression even while his gaze is sharpened. “Sweetheart, meet our colleagues.” Nezha’s hand on her arm works to pivot her body inch by inch as he introduces the people around them. “This is Paul, Eva, Ryan, and… Mario, is it?” 

This Mario guy narrows his eyes, seeming unimpressed that his is the only name Nezha has snagged on. 

“Correct,” Mario says. His attention turns to Rin, nodding at the area around her throat. “May I know where you get that?”

Rin jolts a little bit from surprise. She looks down, forgetting the gold necklace that hangs around her brown neck. It dangles there, showing off a gold phoenix charm. 

Oh shit. 

Rin tries to play cool about it. Perhaps this man really is curious about her necklace. “I cannot remember,” she answers. She then looks up at Nezha, pretending to ask him if he might know.

“I believe I gave it to you for our anniversary. But I can’t remember the place where I bought it,” he says. 

“Hmm…” Mario hums. Then without asking permission first, he closes off the distance to her, leaning down to see it closer. The motion forces Rin to take a step back, obviously feeling uncomfortable with the proximity. 

Nezha takes a step forward, putting his body in between her and Mario. His broad chest forces the man to back off. 

“If you so desire my wife’s necklace, I can try to find the jewelry shop and give it to you.” 

Having the view of his back, Rin can’t see what expression he’s currently wearing. He might be smiling right now. Although, hearing from the tone of his voice, it doesn’t derive from something very pleasant. 

Mario laughs a little. “Ah, I would really appreciate it. I’ve been searching for an anniversary gift myself for my girlfriend,” he says, swiping his palm to the back of his neck. 

“No problem.” 

Eva coughs, trying to disperse the obvious tension emanating from the two men. “We’re going to have a little party tonight. You two should come too.” 

Nezha’s shoulders finally lose their tension. He turns his head over his shoulder to look at her, asking for permission. “What do you say, sweetheart?” 

Rin feels a bit awkward as all of their attention suddenly shifts to her. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Perfect.” 

…

As they make their way closer to where the little party should take place, Rin can’t help but to absently touch her face from the sheer amount of nerves she’s currently feeling. If she knew that this party would be in the Nikaran side of the city, she would’ve declined the offer immediately. Because not only it is placed in the Nikaran side, it is also placed in the area where all the rich people do their parties. In short, it is placed near The Phoenix bar where a lot of people might recognize her as well… The Phoenix Goddess. 

She hears a tsk from beside her. “Focus ahead, wife.” 

Nezha has adopted that habit. Calling her "wife" in that condescending tone only he is able to produce as if trying to remind her of her current unfortunate role. She looks sideways, sending a glare to his way and finding that he seems calm enough with the whole situation, though she knows from his gait alone that he shares the same concern. For he walks beside her in a gesture that one would perceive as being protective. But she knows it is more of his way to shield her figure from the eyes of the patrons passing them. 

Rin rolls her eyes, holding her tongue to snap at him when the dance hall attendant opens the door for them to enter, welcoming them in, and helping them to take off their winter coats. 

As she takes her first step in, the scent of floral mixed with smoke and expensive perfumes of the ones around is fast in attacking her senses. There are patrons mingled around, their formal dress and clean pressed suits giving away their social status. She steals a glance at Nezha’s casual air of dressing. He wears a blue button up shirt that both sleeves have been rolled up to sit neatly around his elbows, then her eyes slip upwards to where two of his buttons have slipped free. She looks away, cursing herself for noticing it in the first place and thinking how elegant he still manages to look with that. 

“I see them,” he says, pinning his eyes on the far corner of the room. 

Though the bar isn’t as big nor extravagant as The Phoenix, it still shares a similar opulence interior. The ceiling is outrageously tall, painted white and carved with intricate gold patterns that trailed down the walls until it reaches the banister of the second level where the patrons can get a better look to the stage. On the lower level, it isn’t only serves as entertainment, there are also gambling tables at the opposite end, near the bar and away from the stage. That’s where she sees familiar faces, Paul, Eva, Ryan, Mario, and… Venka. 

Rin can’t help but feel relief wash over her as she sees the woman sitting there, looking as beautiful as she always is. 

“Come on,” she says. 

Just as she stalks forward, Nezha grabs her arm to stop her. “I-I have to go tend to something first.” 

She frowns. “Wha-?” 

“I’ll be back,” he cuts her off. Without further explanation, he walks away in the direction of the stage. 

“What?” Rin demands again, flabbergasted. “You can’t just slip off. What is wrong with you?” She whisper-yells. But there’s no use. The man’s already gone, merging into the crowd of patrons. 

She gives a small, irritated huff before marching toward the gambling tables on her own. Unbelievable, isn’t he? He’s the one who’s usually noisy about putting on their mask of pretense, and now the first thing he does in a critical situation is to wander off. 

“Mrs. Zheng!” Eva exclaims when she spots Rin, waving her hand up to get her attention. 

“Hi, Eva,” she says when she arrives at their desk, giving Venka the barest nod of acknowledgement. “What are they playing?” She asks, peering over the shoulders of the seated players. 

“Five-card stud.” Venka’s the one to answer. “Our friend Mario here claims that he always knows the best time to fold.”

“Yeah? He must be omniscient if that’s true.” 

Venka snorts, shaking her shoulders a little as she does so. “He has a pretty good intuition. I’d give him that.” 

“Ah, what a short game!” Mario suddenly exclaims. He whirls around, patting Paul’s shoulder in an exaggerated movement, then amplifies his surprise upon seeing her standing there. “Mrs. Zheng! Where’s your husband?” His words are slurred together, and there’s a blotch of red painting his cheeks.

Rin grimaces. “Somewhere nearby, I’m sure.” Rin makes a show of searching for her so-called husband in between the bodies of the crowd. It’s no use though, Nezha has entirely disappeared. “You probably can already tell how socialized he can be. ” 

Mario gives a little laugh. “Sure he is," he says, voice indicating he isn’t totally convinced with her words. Even so, he doesn’t bother to say anything else about the matter. “Fancy a drink?” He instead asks the group. 

Rin needs to make an effort in reigning down her sneer. She smooths down her expression, nodding along with the other in answer to the offer. 

Mario points up the stairs to the second level bar. Tramping down any bit of hesitation, Rin follows the group, trailing behind her colleagues, and silently listening close to their conversations. But when she finds none of their talks of value, she stops listening altogether.

Where the fuck that asshole goes? She thinks angrily, inconspicuously sending her gaze passing through the patrons, hoping she will see the familiar pretty face. He’s the one who keeps bragging to her of his social and information-extraction skills, and here he is leaving her to do those exact jobs to herself. 

From the group, Mario is the one teetering around drunkenly while the others look as sober as ever. She can’t exactly go around pressing them about their opinions on the conspiracy of the monster nor can she freely talk about Hesperian propaganda surrounding it, But she has to try…somehow. 

“I was almost afraid to leave the house today,” she starts, peering over to catch each of their reactions. 

Eva widens her eyes, face contorted in concern. “Why?” 

Rin makes a casual shrug, like the topic of conversations is merely at the edge of her mind, something to only fill the silence. “I read the newspaper a lot. Haven’t you heard about all the murders? The monster roaming around the city and all.” 

From the top of the stairs, Mario scoffs. “A monster is a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”  

“How is it dramatic?” Paul chimes in. “Those died in such an unnatural state. What else is there to call it?” 

Mario waves off Paul’s word as one would to a buzzing insect. “We have The Maker. No such thing exists.” He pushes forward, trying to get through the people, though he is still talking over his shoulder, making sure he keeps the conversation going at loud volume. “And even if the devil really roams the streets, we have the Hesperian government to guide this nation through.” 

Rin’s hand curls at her sides, nails digging into her palms. “The Hesperian will guide Nikan through?” 

Mario raises one eyebrow at her, the corner of his lips lifted in a snobby smirk. “Yes, like it always does.” He doesn’t stay to hear her response, walking away towards the bar instead. 

Eva sighs, she stops short when she sees Rin doesn’t move along. “You come?”

Rin feels like she'd risk her cover and explode in flames if she needs to hear another heroic Hesperian nonsense. She needs a space to breathe. 

“I will meet you there,” she says, citing what looks like a washroom, so she starts in that direction. “I must use the water closet.” 

Venka gives her a pointed look, but she stays silent, trailing behind the others and leaving Rin behind to her leisure, 

At the sink outside the woman’s washroom, Rin peels her gloves off and washes her hands. She stands there for a moment longer, letting the water running on her skin, letting her mind rest for a bit, and welcoming the faint music reach her ears smoothly. 

When someone approaches her from behind, she feels their presence long before their voice cut into her thoughts. 

"You brought up a rather intriguing conversation, Mrs. Zheng."

Rin turns the tap off as she takes her time drying her hands, throwing the used towel into the basket beneath the sink.

"I can hardly remember what we were talking about," she says, grabbing her gloves and turning around. 

"The deaths," Mario slurs, as if she truly needed the reminding. "All the deaths in the city, brought to those who deserve it."

Rin freezes as she absorbs his words. "I beg your pardon?” 

He chuckles. "They deserve it! All the ones that died in the hands of the devil.”

“The Hesperian too?” 

His eyes darken at that. “That was not the devil. It must be one of those lowly Nikaran trying to redo the work of the devil.” 

Rin feels like her limb is moving on its own accord. Her fist rises, and then it goes straight to his cheekbone, eliciting a satisfying sound of a bone breaking beneath her punch. Mario is reeling back, placing his palm over the place where her knuckles has met. 

Shit! Damage control , she screams inside her mind. Now .

“My greatest apologies,” she gushes. “I think the devil himself has taken over me.” She starts toward him, putting up a gesture like she’s about to help him ease the pain. 

His hand raises to stop her in her tracks. “Mrs. Zheng.” His voice turns sharper, seeped with a hint of amusement like he knows something she does not. “I believe our higher ups will be very interested in what you have to say about this monster, are they not? Or…” 

He trails off, stalking toward her in that same infuriating snobby expression. “Do you prefer they know of your ability in dancing?” 

Rin tries to keep her composure, mind reeling to find her way out of the situation. Her eyes are casting over the space, noting the lack of patrons around. She sets up on her heels, curling her arms around his neck. 

“Ah, you get a fine humor on you, you know?” She whispers to his ears. Everyone looking at them right now will think of a lover’s embrace. But as she puts more pressure into his neck, only they know that she’s about to wring the last breath of life out of him. 

Her arms on his neck tighten, and right before he can even think to struggle, her hand snaps his neck, making it hang limp over his body. 

Her first instinct is to curse everything out. She has no plan to kill anyone here. Her second instinct is to push both of their bodies to the woman’s washroom door. She lay down his body onto the floor, and makes her way to check every stall. When she finds there’s no one else inside, she lets out a little breath of relief. Though the next thing in her mind is the obvious question on how to deal with the body. 

“Tiger tits,” she whispers. 

She needs to lock the door, formulate a plan. 

Which is exactly when the door opens, bringing someone in. 

Chapter Text

“Nezha.” 

A cold voice and a shiver run down his spine. 

His father has a way to make his name sound like a death threat coming out of his mouth. “They are displeased,” he informs curtly. The message laced through those simple words is clear. You messed up. I felt disappointed. 

“I understand, father,” he says in a tone that he hopes is reassuring. His eyes cast downward, unable to meet those of Vaisra’s that no doubt filled with cruel judgment, or perhaps worse, indifference. 

“I want you to investigate what’s been happening there.” 

“I will, father. I am truly sorry for being inattentive,” he says, carefully lifting his head to meet his father’s eye.

“Don’t disappoint me,” again goes unsaid, but the words already hold enough power as it is. He ignores his apology. Instead of staring ahead of his head, wiping on a neutralized expression on his face. “Now tell me about this wife of yours.” 

…

This is ridiculous. Rin feels as if she’s in some kind of movie, staring dumbly as the knob turns over from the outside instead of jumping into action. In the shroud of her panic at the precarious moment before the door falls open, the only thing she can come up with is to raise her fist, readying herself for another fight. 

Right before she sends her fist flying, the door reveals a certain woman who brings so much joy she never knew possible this woman could elicit out of her.

“Really, Rin? Right here?’ Venka raises one thin eyebrow, peeking through Rin’s shoulder to the man lying on the ground. 

Rin can feel a wave of relief washing over her that she can’t help but double over, laughing weakly at the fact she isn't going to end up dealing with two corpses tonight. 

“Are you high?” 

Rin stops laughing, glaring beneath her lashes at the only hope of salvation she can get right now. 

“No,” she says curtly, gesturing to the unlived man still lying on the floor of the women’s washroom. “Now lock the door and please help me get rid of this man.” 

“Woah, aren’t you wonderful?” She marks satire, though simultaneously doing what she is told to do. 

Venka turns back to lock the door, then comes facing her back to scrunch her pretty face at the dead man. “Now what are we going to do with this?”

“The back exit?” Rin suggests.

“Yeah, no luck for you. It has been barred for quite some time now.”

Rin frowns, commanding her brain to give out some ideas. When she looks up to see Venka’s face, she catches the quirk of her corner lips, then frowns even deeper. “What?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you have inside that brain?” 

“Ah, it’s obvious, isn't it? Make it look like it is the monster’s doing.” 

“And risk this place getting shut down by the police?”

Venka rolls her eyes. “Fine, let’s hear about your ideas.”

Rin tries and fails to grasp anything from her head at the moment. They can try to make it look like the monster’s doing for her to get away from the responsibility of murdering a Hesperian man. But the look of having a dead Hesperian man lying in your bar isn’t really what a Nikaran business owner’s dream is. 

“Is there really no way we can get this man out from here?” She asks out loud, more to herself than anyone else. 

“How about your band of army? Can’t they reach a hand?” Venka suggests, leaning her back on the ceramic wall behind her. 

Rin mumbles some incoherent words in answer. “Perhaps, but we need to,” she trails off, eyes searching around the room before they catch on something upward. 

Venka follows her gaze and immediately understands what she has in mind. There, on the top of the wall near the last stall is a window, barred with a wooden board that barely covers the entire glass, and looks like it is brittle enough to be broken apart by one strike. The window is sufficiently large to provide for her idea, but following through it means that they need to push and shove this dead man as if he were a sack of rice. Rin thinks that even a sack of rice gets more respect than that. 

Venka seems to share this train of thought, for she looks at her with that secretive glint of hers and mutters, “You’re a wicked woman, aren’t you?” 

Rin shrugs, already crouches down beside the corpse to do her work, and pulls out the blade she always keeps close to her back.

Venka is a compliant assistant in this scenario, so what does that say about the two of them?

…

When Rin and Venka get back to meet their group, Nezha’s already there, chatting animatedly with no trace of what and where he had been before. He looks up to meet her gaze and raises one of his eyebrows upon seeing the obvious displeasure written all over her face. His expression then morphs into a resemblance to that of a worried husband. He reaches out his arm, and Rin can immediately feel the apprehension making its way to her guts. 

And oh, isn’t her apprehension met the right address? 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks her, pulling her right beside him before practically caging her within his arm. His free hand makes its way to wipe at the hair sticking to her forehead, tucking it gently behind her ear. She hasn’t even realized how sweaty she has gotten, whether from how stuffy this bar feels or from the sheer bundle of nerves she’s currently in, she doesn’t know. 

“Are you feeling alright?” He asks again when hearing no response from her. He places his palm on her forehead, checking her temperature, and frowning in concern. “Do you want to go home?” 

Rin still doesn’t answer and instead furrows her eyebrows in confusion at the very convincing attempt of his concern toward her. He is even successful in garnering the attention of their group. They’re watching their interaction with attentive eyes and now looking at her with some variety level of concern themselves. 

“Take a rest, Mrs. Zheng, I think you need it,” one of them reassures, taking her silence as reluctant to leave the so-called party early. 

Nezha’s palm slid up to her waist, his thumb gently brushing the skin through the fabric of her clothes. The simple gesture feels like an electric shot that shocked her awake, only realized now that she’d been silent the entire time. And suddenly, as if the atmosphere of the room is suspended, she's acutely aware of how close their proximity is. She can feel the heat radiating off him, the warmth of his palm seeping through her shirt, and the outline of his torso against her side. The realization sends a rush of heat up to her cheeks, resulting in her needing to cough a little in an attempt to clear her throat. 

“Uh.. yeah, going home is a good idea,” she says, stealing a sideways glance at Nezha, a look of worry still plastered on his face, before looking away. 

“Alright,” Nezha declares, standing up, and bringing her with him as he does so. “Thank you for having us tonight, but I’m afraid we need to go now.” 

Rin thinks that the pleasantries aren't needed as both of them are rather away for most of the party. Yet as they make their way, both Rin and Nezha toss smiles and little waves to the group. 

The chatter of the group has restarted at the time they almost get out of their earshot. Before the voices get lost, and merge with any other sound inside the crowded space, Rin can hear one of them questioning the whereabouts of Mario, unaware that at the very moment, the said man is currently dragged away to be tossed onto the shabbiest alleyway they can find in the town. 

…

“Where the fuck have you been?” Rin snaps at Nezha, pulling her hand away from his grasp, and forcing them to stop midway as they finally get far enough from the street filled with bars and restaurants. 

Nezha regards her coolly, putting his hands inside the pocket of his coat, having them no longer occupied to hold her. His lips are set in a thin line as he answers, “Some business.” 

Rin glares at him, feeling irritated at his casual display. “A business? A fucking business important enough for you to leave me alone in our mission?” 

Nezha rolls his eyes at her. He turns his back and resumes his walk, casually shrugging his shoulders. “I believe the phoenix can fend for herself, yes?” 

Rin mutters some rather creative ways to say fuck you under her breath before catching up to him. 

…

Another corner is rounded when they hear a loud scream piercing through the night. Somehow, her immediate thought has been wow, people love to scream nowadays, huh? 

Her next response is a response to Nezha's first response when hearing the scream, which is to stop mid-walking and go as rigid as a caught raccoon, leaving her puzzled, unsure of the implication of that reaction.

“Are you drunk?” She asks him, for good measure. 

He looks like he just got dumped with a bucket of cold water. He shakes his head slowly, “no, I’m good,” he says, still staying in his place without any indication of moving forward. 

“Okay.” She pinches his side. “What are you waiting for, then? Let’s go.” 

Only when she says that he finally breaks out of his reverie. He follows her footsteps from behind, trying to figure out where the scream has derived. 

The scream has started again, closer and clearer now. Rin can pinpoint where it belongs. But as she makes her way closer, the thought only occurs to her right now. What if the one thing she will find is the body of the man she just killed barely an hour ago? She has told The Cike to pick the furthest spot from the bar to dump his body, and this is already far enough, isn’t it? 

The thought can’t help but root itself inside her brain, causing what started as a steady thump inside her chest, to get louder and messier till she can hear it right in her eardrums. 

Her feet are what carried her in front of the alley. No-not even an alley, just an awkward gap between two buildings of a department store and a flower shop. There, crouching against the wall is a frightened-looking woman who must’ve been passing this space after her grocery shopping, the white plastic bags are still clutched in between her hands. 

Rin looks down, catching the grotesque sight of a young man lying on the ground, head lolling in a strange direction, and his shirt ripped, displaying the obvious marks of something inhuman. 

Rin bent down to tap the woman on the shoulder. “Hey, did you see anything weird before this happened?” 

The woman is visibly shaken, she looks back at her in a sort of faraway look, her lips trembling. “The man,” she whispers, then proceeds to string some incoherent words that are far too soft for Rin to grasp. 

She reaches both of her hands forward, shaking the woman’s shoulders to bring her out of it. “Did you hear me? What did you see?” 

She’s about to press further when a hand reaches out to grip one of her shoulders. “Let the woman speak, sweetheart.” 

She scoffs. “I’m trying to make her do just that right now.” 

“Now if you want to do that,” he says, pulling her away from the poor woman. “Try to give her some space.” 

He brings himself forward, bending down to make his eyes level with the woman’s. “Hey, can you hear me?” He asks her, making his voice gentle. Upon seeing the little nod coming from her, he continues. “Can you tell us all the details, all the things you saw and heard before this happened?” 

She looks stricken but nodded her head anyway. 

“Alright. Now first, let's get yourself out of here,” he decides, bringing his hand to help the woman stand up. 

…

“I might sound crazy, but that man just radiates a sort of strange energy.” 

Nezha looks skeptical, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “Strange energy? What do you mean by that?”

Her answer gets lost in Rin’s ears. She can feel her mind trying to tell her something. A man radiating strange energy? That isn’t so strange for her. 

Ah!

Now she remembers. The accident happened days ago after her lunch. The man that broke through the crowds as if he entranced them. Is this supposed to be the same one?

“What does he look like?” She suddenly asks, startling the woman mid-sentence. 

“I said let the woman speak, sweetheart. ” He emphasizes the moniker. 

Rin ignores him. “Answer my question, what does he look like?” 

The woman shifts her eyes from Nezha to her, utterly looking lost. “It’s not like I can get a full sight of him-,” 

“Just tell me all the things you know,” she cuts her off.

“Bright blue eyes. I remember he has bright blue eyes, a lean build, and his height…,” she trails off, searching around for the best thing to represent her description. “Around your height,” she concludes, pointing at Nezha. 

Nezha’s about to open his mouth when the woman speaks again. 

“Actually, I think he has the same height as you.” 

…

Rin sees a man sitting down near a window sill of a two-story building. The first story of the building is a photography shop, a closed sign plastered onto the front door. She thinks he’s familiar, someone she has encountered several times before, though it is strangely hard to recall the memory now. 

Nezha is there beside her, tugging her elbow to follow him along to finally get to their shared apartment. 

Killing a man, a monster in the form of a man, a strange photography shop man. She has dealt enough with men for the entire day. Now all she wants to do is sleep and forget about her responsibilities before waking up tomorrow to deal more with them.

Chapter Text

“You’re a little demon.” 

That clearly isn’t sent as an insult. For the little boy standing across from him replied with an almost teasing smile. “Am I?” He says, poking his little finger to the older boy's side. 

The two boys continue their stride, hand in hand. One is adamant about protecting the little one, despite his young age, while the other one is simply indulged his brother’s paranoia. 

The scene seems familiar to Nezha. He can feel what the older boy feels, see through his eyes, and it’s like all the words spilled out his mouth are his own. What’s even more terrifying is the chilling realization that he’s trapped within his own dream, or perhaps a memory. At this moment, his consciousness drifts far from its shell, trailing behind the two boys—one of whom should have been him.

He can feel the not-so pleasant hum against the back of his head, or the unsteady earth where his feet land. Yet he can’t make them stop walking, nor can he control where they try to bring him. 

When he looks up, there’s a dizzying cloud of movements. A kaleidoscope of images and memories swirls around him, and he realizes—they are his.

The sky blinks and he is suddenly strapped beneath iron chains, blinding white light screaming on his face, and forcing it away from its torture. It leaves only his ears to function as he tries to grasp the situation he's currently in.

“We still lack control of his mind.”

He hears someone say. The words aren’t exactly cruel, yet it freezes his limbs, sending a cold shiver down to his spine. Before he can bring his face upward, searching for the owner of the voice, the hum comes back, and he feels his body get slammed onto a cobblestone. 

Whatever happened next is merged into one hurricane of an images that send him toppling forward, vomiting nothing though his chest feels like it’s about to burst open. 

He sees blood, and he hears screaming. Yet he can’t seize the moment and see it for himself. The last thing inside his vision is two big brown eyes gazing up at him. The sight almost melted him down for how sweet he looks. That is before his gaze finds the torn-opened chest, the wound still fresh that the blood, so red and thick, flows freely out its gashes. 

“It’s you,” the little boy strains. “You’re the demon.” 

…

Nezha wakes up with a cold sweat running down his forehead. And not only that, he can feel how fast his heart is racing,  trying to make sense of what he was just seeing so vividly inside his mind. He doesn’t even realize the tears sliding down on his cheeks until he brings his hands upward to rub his face. 

What baffles him even more is the feeling of soreness in his throat as if he just goes on screaming for a long time. 

It bewilders him. The tears and the screams. Yet every time he tries to think hard about what exactly causes him to feel this way, he can feel a pounding at the back of his head, rendering him to think further.

As he sits there on the bed, head in the palm of his hand. He can't shake the feeling that what he just experienced is more than just a nightmare. It feels like a glimpse of realities, memories he has deep buried in his mind, and wishes to never find again. 

In his head, Nezha counts to ten, trying to see whether the sleep will once again take him over or not, and finds that his mind is getting too loud for him to even close his eyes. So he decides to get up and walk to the door of the bedroom. 

He expects to find Rin, curling on the couch like how he always finds her. But once he closes the door behind him, he is met with utter darkness and no Rin in sight. 

“Rin,” he tries to call her, feeling the still painful scratch in his throat. 

There’s no answer. He makes a walk around the little space to look for her, and comes back with no sign of her existence there. 

She might be getting out for a moment to get the fresh air, or she might be getting out somewhere, doing something else she shouldn’t do at this moment. Perhaps that should ring the alarm of warning inside his head. Isn’t this the kind of thing he needs to report back to his father? 

Yet he doesn’t feel any sense of urgency to do so. Right now, he has something else in mind for him to do. So that night, covered under the dim light of the streets and the still-silence of the night, he decides to also get out and have some fresh air. 

…

Rin comes back with no sign of Nezha inside their tiny apartment. 

At first, she thought she had been stupid enough to leave the front door unlocked.  When her panicked ass stormed inside and accidentally knocked down a figurine-Nezha’s figurine-she had expected he would rise from his slumber to strangle the air out of her lungs, for she knows how much of a light sleeper he is. Yet even when she deliberately sings the Hesperian anthem loudly and off-key, on top of that, still she can’t feel any sign of him inside their living space. 

His absence is unsettling. However, Rin prided herself to be somewhat of an opportunist. Hence, the moment she confirms he is nowhere near the apartment, she quickly makes her way to the bedroom, plopping herself on the bed, and making herself comfortable. 

For a moment, she clears her mind of the burden of what she just encountered, and hopes she doesn’t need to deal with it when she wakes up. 

…

Rin wakes up to a pleasant weight circling around her mid-part. In the daze of her sleep, her mind is estranged by the presence of the weight as she tries to push it away. But in doing so, she feels herself getting pulled deeper, causing a wave of warmth to spread through her. The cold weather is still constantly trying to kill her. So although her mind tries to convey something, she can’t help but to welcome the unexpected company beside her, snuggling into its comfort as if cocooned in a soothing embrace. 

A soothing embrace?

Her eyes shoot open and Rin almost choke on her own spit. There beside her lies Yin fucking Nezha, sound and asleep. His arms securely wrapped around her waist, his head comfortably resting on his pillow. His black hair spills down, framing his lovely face like a dark halo, looking as peaceful and as beautiful as ever despite the fact that he’s committing the nastiest crime right now. 

Some tiny, disgusting part of her wants to submit to this. Waving away the dread and weariness of the world and staying nestled in the protective curve of his body around her. The illusion of what could’ve happened if they were an actual married couple, where both of their guards are down and no constant fear or anticipation of when one of them will betray the other. 

She watches as his eyes flutter open, panic kicks in as she realizes he might catch her gazing at him. The last thing she wants is to give the bastard an idea that she is admiring him. So she does one thing that she should’ve done minutes ago once her mind registered what’s happening. She shoves his chest away. Hard . 

Well apparently too hard, it sends him toppling down to the floor. 

She hears a groan followed by an annoyed voice exclaiming, "What the fuck, Rin?"

She coughs, frowning at herself for finding the scratch of his voice attractive and immediately jumps right on the defensive, hoping he wouldn’t catch the nervous flutter of her chest. “It should’ve been my line. What the fuck are you doing in my room?”

His head peeks up from the edge of the bed, scowling, before he brings himself to stand up. “Well?” He glares at her, expectantly waiting for her to say something, then sighs when there’s no sign of recognition on her face. “In case you forget, which you clearly are, last night was supposed to be my room. As far as I’m concerned, it always means that I get to use it till morning comes, doesn't it?” 

She glares in return. “Well, it’s not my fault that you’re out there doing gods know what instead of occupying your room,” she says, catching the sudden shift of air about them and realizing all too late. They both know they don’t venture into that area. They both know they shouldn't venture into that area. 

“I’m not cheating, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says, trying to sound casual when the stiffness of his shoulders gives him away. 

Rin scoffs, as if she would care if that’s what was really happening. “Don’t care. But couldn’t you just wake me up? Instead of-” she catches herself before she says some ridiculous shits about how he has embraced her. 

“Instead of what?” Nezha asks, raising one eyebrow. Gone all the tense muscle, replaced by a sudden boyish air that makes her stomach swoop. 

“Instead of doing what you just did,” she says vaguely, gesturing wildly with her hands. 

“Hmm?” There’s a playful grin tugging at his lips as he crosses his arms across his chest. “You can’t reprimand someone without telling them what wrongdoings they were doing, Rin,” he chides her. “Now, please tell me what I did wrong, will you?” 

His tone is nothing but condescending, yet it inexplicably makes her cheeks unbearably hot, it doesn’t make sense at all. Rin hopes he doesn’t catch how red her face must have gotten. But like everything else, the gods love to turn her life into a circus, making her feel like a fucking buffon. Because once she looks up to see his face, she finds the grin twisting his lips has turned more sardonic. 

He leans down, taunting her further as he only stops when his face is inches away from hers. “So?” 

“I won’t say it, you moron,” she snaps, shoving his face away. 

The devil has the audacity to laugh his heart out. His eyes turn into crescent moons, a shape that Rin might think adorable if it isn’t currently directed towards her. 

…

The sight of pouty Rin has never been on his list of things he’d like to see, though he’d be lying if he says he doesn’t enjoy the sight of it, or if it doesn’t make his heart flutter at how adorable it makes her look. Not that he would ever say that out loud, not if he still wants to preserve his life, that is. 

“Do you wish to die? Stop laughing, asshole!” She throws one of the pillows at him in frustration.

Nezha, having recovered from his laughter, catches the pillow easily and places it back on the bed. He stands back up before giving her what he hopes is a stern look. “Embrace, Rin.” 

“What?” She answers, suddenly feeling lost.

“It’s called an embrace, in case no one ever gives you,” he explains. Then, he can’t help the gleeful smile that stretches his lips as he says, “Mine will always be open for you though.” 

Rin’s gaze can’t be described as anything but murderous after his remark. All the pillows on the bed turn into weapons in her hands as he scurries out to get away from her. 

Little does she know, the offer is a genuine one. 

Chapter Text

Rin finds it surprisingly anticlimactic how effortlessly she acquired the access card. She’s uncertain whether the gods are currently on her side or if she simply has a knack for pickpocketing. Regardless of the source of her luck, she was beyond thankful for the assistance. 

The situation was like this: yesterday, she spent the better of her time spying on the access card, or rather, on the cleaning service boy who carries it. For his part, the boy looks like he wants to hide down the rabbit hole every time they make eye contact. Though this realization baffled her, it didn’t stop her from pestering him the entire day, trying to find a crack when she could just steal the card away. 

With a faint memory of the access card, Rin had prepared an imitation to buy time before the boy realized he had lost the real one. Unfortunately, despite her preparation and strategy, it turned out to be more challenging than she had anticipated. Because he is better at his job than Rin had estimated him to be. The boy slipped from her sight every time she got closer, and before she knew it, her office hour was almost done. That meant she only had a few hours left to acquire the access card before the new year's party, because once the party’s over, she wouldn't know when else she’ll be able to catch the same opportunity. 

As the panic started to kick in, she stole glances at Sarah, seated on her chair as usual with her customary annoyed expression. Her eyes glance down to the employee card hanging on her neck. The ordinary card is a simple white, containing a photo and information of the person’s position, whereas the access card is a deep blue color filled only by some words written in gold and a small logo of an insignia she’s been encountering these past days. If anything, it looks more like a debit card. The kind of card that wouldn’t go unnoticed if she had encountered it again everywhere else. 

Which is the exact moment her eyes catch on something, deep blue colored and tiny golden writing. The drawer snapped shut, bringing along a hand that had swiftly snapped the card away, causing Rin to nearly leap out of her seat. 

“Is there anything I can help you with, Mrs. Zheng?” Sarah asked, her face grim. The hand that held the card slipped down to her front pocket. 

Rin looked up, a tiny smile playing on her lips. “Before the new year begins, may I say something to you?”

…

"And that’s how I finally got this," she says proudly, holding the card out in front of Nezha's face.

He frowns, staring at her unimpressively. “You just asked her to give it to you?”

“No, fucker. Did you listen to my story at all?”

“Your story doesn’t have any structure at all, I couldn’t understand.” 

She glares at him. “Or you just have a poor comprehension. How come again you manage to graduate from the academy?”

“Because I am a fucking genius. Now, you saw the card in her drawer, and then you decided to…?” He trails off, ending his voice in a questioning tone. 

Rin rolls her eyes, already feeling exasperated. “Then, I pretended I wanted to say sorry, and switched the cards in the process,” she shrugs, acting like her story makes any sense. 

It isn’t, at all. 

“Wait, wait, wait… how did you switch the cards? Don’t just cut the story and act like it makes sense!” 

"I hug her!" Rin exclaims, raising both hands in the air to emphasize her point.

“You what now?” 

She’s on the verge of humiliating herself once again by revealing how she acquired the card when she notices the slight quirk at the corner of his lips, the beginning of a laugh. So, instead, the only words that come out of her mouth are a simple, 'Go fuck yourself.'"

He deserves it. 

…

“This might be too much.” 

"This is just the right amount," Venka says, swatting Rin's hand away as she anxiously fidgets with the corner of her sleeve.

“I think the makeup is enough.” 

“I just applied the primer, Rin,” she sighs, exaspareted. “Now, will you shut the fuck up?” 

Rin frowns. “I just don’t get why it is so important for me to play dress-up?” 

Venka let out a feigned gasp. “Did you just tell me you want to show up as Nesha’s wife looking ugly?”

She scoffs, her face instantly contorted in disgust. “He can go fuck himself.”

“Or…” Venka says, a devious glint sneaking in her gaze as she catches her eyes. “He can go fuck you. After he sees you in this, that is.” 

Right after those words slipped from Venka’s lips, Rin immediately backs her face away from Venka’s touch, twisting her entire face as she creates as much distance from her, as if repulsed by the notion. Though contrary to her reaction, she can feel her cheeks flaming up in embarrassment, her mind racing in search of a retort. 

“Please,” she manages, voice dramatically sounding petrified, “don’t be disgusting.”

…

The new year’s party is being held at a mansion deep within the Hesperian jurisdiction. Which means, it is far beyond Rin's usual comfort zone—much like how Nezha's gaze currently makes her feel.

She doesn't appreciate how self-aware it makes her feel about the way her dress hugs her figure, the heavy sensation of her foundation, or how the ridiculously high heels now allow her to meet his eyes without straining her neck so much. What’s even more frustrating is that his gaze raises her need to adjust her hair and sneak a glance at the mirror to ensure there’s nothing wrong with her face, or her lipstick hasn't smudged. 

She can’t take it anymore. “What?” 

It's obvious that Nezha himself isn't even aware of how fixedly his eyes have been on her, if the slight twitch of his shoulder is any indication of it. 

“Yeah?” 

“What is your problem?” She snaps at him.

His cheeks flush pink. "Nothing," he quickly mumbles, avoiding her gaze. 

Nezha resumes his walk, hand to hand with Rin as they ascend the stairs to the grand house. Upon entering, the plush carpet underfoot seems to muffle their footsteps, creating a sense of quietude in the midst of distant chatter. Beside her, Rin can feel the unfamiliar air of shyness emanating from Nezha. His steps are quicker than usual, carrying her further into the crowds of people she scarcely recognizes.

His steps suddenly falter, with it stopping Rin’s movement as she takes note of the way his eyes widen in recognition and—slight twinge of panic?

When she follows where his gaze has stranded, she finds the reason why. “I think it’d be best for us to…,” she tries to suggest. 

Too late, the man has already landed his eyes on them. He sends a quick nod of acknowledgement to Nezha, or rather, a clear signal for him to step away from her. And to Rin’s absolute dismay, Nezha complies with his request. He gently pries the hand that has grip his arm tightly, muttering a small apology, “I have someone I need to talk to,” before stepping away from her and disappearing into the crowd. 

Rin almost let out an automatic whisper-yell for him to come back here and reclaim her arm in his. But the man—fuck his long legs—has quickly steer himself away to gods know where, leaving her alone in the middle of the party. 

As the bubble of panic kicks in, she can only helplessly watch as Yin Vaisra approaches her. 

Why is this man here in the first place? 

“Mrs. Zheng, I presume?” He asks, stopping short before her. “I’ve heard their new recruits are Nikaran.” 

The tone of his voice reminds her of someone she first encountered years ago—the casual arrogance, the air of authoritativeness. The very person who shares the same face as the man standing in front of her. 

Rin coughs, trying to disperse the obvious tension hanging in the air. “You heard right.” She internally curses herself for that response. 

Vaisra smiles, a trained—diplomatic smile exhibiting years of experience on using the same smile. “Would you?” He asks, beckoning her to walk with him outside. “The garden is exquisite. You should see it for yourself.” 

Rin knows damn well it’s not about the garden. But this man, whatever it is he’s trying to do, is worth reporting to the higher-ups. 

She smiles, following his lead outside, hoping to replicate the casual grace of Vaisra’s and knows that she failed hard. 

Once they step outside, Vaisra continues his stride forward, leading her deeper into the night. If only the circumstances were different, Rin would be more than happy to slow her steps and stare at the indeed exquisite garden. 

The stone pathways in which they placed their footsteps are hugged in between a beautiful bunch of flowers she unfortunately can’t place their names on, along with lush greenery. The numerous lanterns hanging high in the air are subtle, yet enough to cast a soft glow throughout the entire garden. When she stops short, she can sense the air-filled fragrance, faint and soothing. 

“Runin.” 

The voice breaks her pleasant reverie. Only then does she realize how far they had walked into the garden. The realization sets off an alarm bell in her ears. She places her palm in the space near her thigh, fingers brushing against the cool handle of a dagger, readying herself for whatever might come next. 

Beside her, Vaisra raises one curious eyebrow. His gait is still casual, not at all like one who’s preparing an attack. 

“It must be hard to work along with my son.”

Rin keeps her hand close to the dagger, unsure of where this conversation is going. 

“Nezha, that second son of mine,” he continues, seemingly oblivious to the confused look she places on. “He’s always had a knack for causing trouble wherever he goes, messing up his mission and ultimately failing,” he says matter-of-factly, and for all the disappointment in his words, he seemed almost apathetic, as if he had grown too accustomed to this reality to feel anything at all.

Rin’s not sure yet, but she doesn’t like that. In fact, she doesn’t like anything at all coming from this man. 

She was planning to just let him yap on about his second son, but then he stops to look at her as if demanding for a response. She let the silence hang heavy for another second. Thus, until it almost feels too much for her to bear. 

“I…," she steps carefully into the conversation, “I don't really understand.” 

“Ah, Runin.”

She loathes the way he says her name. 

“I just long to ask you about the mission you and my son are doing.” He gives her a knowing smile. “Because last I checked, there’s not much he can accomplish.” 

Rin scoffs out loud, flippant. Gone are all the traces of propriety she displayed before. “Then I urge you to check it again.” 

In hindsight, Vaisra’s words aren’t completely wrong. But insulting their accomplishment in this mission is the same thing as insulting her own person. At least, that’s what she tells herself, to reason the growing frustation and anger inside her chest. 

Yeah, definitely not because the bastard just insulted her husband right in front of her face. 

That makes her wonder, what kind of father would ever do that, especially when said son is good —for lack of a better word. He receives an honorary degree from the academy, and as infuriating as he is, there’s no way Rin would ever place someone that isn't good as her rival . 

Stupid, Rin!

“Because last I checked, there is some key evidence we’ve recovered in our short times working on this mission.” Rin didn’t realize, not until the knowing smile Vaisra displayed disperse on its own, that her voice has turned sharper, more vicious, more like her . “Maybe if you’re not so busy playing royalty, and actually listening to my husband, you’d understand more of the reality of these cases.” 

Rin isn’t sure which part of her words that seem amusing to him. But whatever that is, it looks like he’s satisfied with her response. 

…

When Rin finally reenters the party, the only thought dominating her mind is to immediately attach herself to the refreshment table. However, once inside, she can’t help but to lock her gaze on Nezha. He’s standing at the end of the table, displaying his charmful smile at a… Mugenese woman? 

He did tell her about someone he needed to talk to. Is she the one, then? Is this related to the investigation? If so, she probably should take note of the conversation, shouldn’t she?

Rin moves closer to her husband, coming within earshot of his conversation. Nezha hasn’t noticed her approach. In fact, he hasn’t glanced over to her direction, as he usually does when approaching suspects, meeting her eyes from afar so that Rin can take notes of the interactions. 

Nezha lifted his hand, gesturing lightly at the pendant sitting neatly on the woman’s neck. Rin moves even closer, trying to get a glimpse of the interaction. It doesn’t feel like they are talking about politics or government or the usual topics that gauge a colleague's relationship to the murders. They are speaking in Mugenese, discussing… jewelry ?

“—diamonds would be a wise choice. It’d bring out the natural elegance about you.” 

What the —

Nezha smiles down at her, before he glances up in Rin’s direction, making the briefest flicker of his eyes. Though he sighted her, he didn't acknowledge her. Rin almost couldn’t believe it. She was defending him to his father, and here he is, doing gods know what with this… this irrelevant woman! 

Rin is about to spin around and walk away from them when the woman spotted her. Unlike Nezha, her attention doesn’t immediately swivel away. She turns fully in Rin’s direction, keeping her gaze. 

Hot irritaition swept down her chest, so intensely that her vision might actually see red. 

“Isn’t that your wife?” she asks him. One corner of her lips lifted up. 

Rin should’ve ignored her. Should've ignored the stupid husband she’s unfortunately stuck with. Should’ve ignored their unnecessary interaction. So what if her so-called fake husband’s flirting with another woman? It’s none of her business. 

“Is it possible that you’re stuck in an arranged marriage? Because it seems to me like that.” She ends her sentence with a little laugh. 

Oh, that’s it.

Rin marches forward, grabbing a hold of one Nezha’s arm at the same time to pluck the champagne flute out of his hand, earning her a low gasp of surprise at her sudden movements. 

“Hello,” she says in Mugenese. “I’ve heard that projecting one’s own failed marriage onto another might cause a sudden heatstroke.” 

Rin might miss the low laugh Nezha let out, if not from how close their bodies are. The way she feels his chest vibrate rather than hearing the actual laugh. The irritation comes back in full force, but before she can spit him with some creative language, Nezha speaks out. 

“This,” he lets out a chuckle, prying off her fingers on his arm to then circling it around her mid-part,  "is my wife,” he continues, voice full of adoration. 

The feeling of surprise is palpably written all over her face. Nezha only smiles down at her, and to Rin’s absolute mortification, leans down to place a chaste kiss to her forehead. 

His lips stays there, another second ticked by, before he turns his attention away from her. 

“And no, we’re not stuck in some ridiculous arranged marriage.” He set his eyes back on her. The affection in his voice and the sincerity in his eyes are too much for her to pretend he faked them. “But then, I won't mind being in an arranged marriage, if it meant I'd get stuck with her forever.” 

Rin would go to her grave never admitting this. But gods , those words send her heart bleeding out of her chest. 

Chapter Text

“What the fuck did you think you’re doing?” Rin almost screams. She isn’t sure of the reason why she feels so agitated by whatever that was he tried to do. But she does, and it makes her skin crawl. 

Right after watching him pulling that stunt, Rin all but dragged him to the first dark-hidden corner she could find. Eager to finally let out her piece of mind. 

Nezha regards her with a cool, measured gaze, tilting his head slightly. Gone are all the traces of warmth and affection she saw before. Rin tries to suppress the flicker of disappointment that tugs at her chest as the realization sinks in.

“What do you think I’m doing?” He asks back. “Is it wrong for a single man to seek out a hand of a fine looking woman?” 

His response almost got her speechless. Almost—

”Wrong?!” Now, she actually screams. She grips his arm so hard, it must have left a bruise later. She steps forward, forcing him back until his body touches the cold wall. “You dare asking me what’s wrong with someone who’s married to me cheats right in front of my eyes?” 

She must’ve looked feral, because Nezha, cool as he is, falters a bit under the weight of her gaze. He gulps down and Rin can’t help but to trace the motion of it. Greedy to see his reactions to her. The satisfaction is short-lived though, because the devious glint she’d come to be familiar with is there, sneaking in his cold mask. 

“Hm…” He leans down, cutting any visible distance between them. His eyes searching, tracing all over her face, then he smiles, like he finally gets the answer he so desired. “ Ah , jealousy looks good on you, sweetheart.” 

Her cheeks flamed up. She instantly backed her face away from him, placing her palm right above his heart to push him back. The rapid thrum of his beating heart doesn’t go unnoticed by her. 

“Don’t be disgusting.” She scowls at him, hoping the lack of light will hide her reddened face. 

The jerk lets out a surprised laugh, clearly pleased with the reaction he coaxed from her. Straightening up, he slings an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “Alright, lovely wife of mine, I won’t cheat on you,” he says this with the conviction of a soldier taking an oath. Then, holding up his pinky in front of her face, he adds, “Pinky promise?”

Rin swats his finger away. “Fuck off! I just defended you to your father, and that was what I got from it.” 

At the mention of his father, Nezha visibly tensed beside her. He frowns, eyes hardening. But then, as if trying to mask his initial reaction, he gives her a small-teasing smile as he whispers, “That’s my girl.” 

The flush comes back in full force, she’s about to punch him in the guts for daring to call her that when he speaks up again. 

“About—uh… earlier, did you know that the Mugenese are desperate?” He asks, turning down his head to face her. 

The sudden shift of topic confuses her, though she can’t help but to scoff in response. “Hell yeah... Losing the war, losing their grip here—who wouldn’t be desperate?” 

She looks up at him as she says this, watching the miniscule change of his expression as the realization sinks in. “Oh… Is this why—,” she begins before catching herself. “How desperate do you think they are?” 

“I don’t know, Rin, they might be desperate enough to place both Hesperia and Nikan in some murder plot. What do you think?” 

There’s only one way to make sure of his sentence. “Let’s see what’s inside that floor.” 

… 

Rin and Nezha are stuck at the party for another forty-five minutes, with everyone seemingly determined to talk to them for some reason. 

When they finally manage to slip away, it is only then that Rin allows her tight smile to fade out, feeling the ache of muscles around her cheeks. “That was exhausting.” 

“For someone with zero social skills? Sure.” 

Rin gives him a nasty scowl for that, though it's spoiled by the slight curl at the corner of her lips as she lightly shoves his arm. “Okay, Mr. Social, sorry I don’t have your charm or endless beauty.” 

Rin is surprised by the words coming out of her mouth, and even more surprised when she sees the reaction her sentence coaxes out of him. 

His eyes lit up, and a bright smile bloomed from his lips, brightening his entire face. “So you think I’m charming and beautiful.” Although his words are teasing, the tone of his voice and body language say otherwise. It almost feels like he’s genuinely happy by the revelation. 

Rin rolls her eyes, “as if you don’t already know that. Everyone thinks so.” 

“But everyone isn’t you, aren’t they?” 

She’d be laughing at his face for that response, if she isn’t so busy hiding her own stupid smile. “Oh? Do you need my validation so much?” 

Now it is Nezha’s turn to blush. A lovely flush coloring his pale face. And just that, they get drowned by each other’s presence. Rin is viscerally confused when this sense of easiness comes within their relationship, though she can’t say she doesn’t like it. 

…

They realized it too late—too caught up in the conversation they are in that death almost came to greet them. 

A familiar yet terrifying sound—the whistle of a bullet cutting through the air—shattered the moment. It grazed Rin's shoulder just as she was yanked aside by two strong hands. 

“ Fuck .”

Chaos erupted. Following the sharp crack of gunfire, the street turns into a whirlwind of motion. There are not many people mingling around in the narrow street, yet the streak of cries and shouts are enough to wake up the night. 

Rin's heart pounding loudly in her chest. People were screaming and running in every direction, yet everything around her felt muted, distant. Her ears are ringing unpleasantly. 

In the midst of it all, the only thing grounding her is the firm grip of two hands wrapped securely around her.  The owner wastes no time, pulling her swiftly through the chaos as he led them both forward. 

Rin’s mind whirling as the panic surged in. She finally noticed the sting pain on her bare shoulder. 

Nezha seems to notice that, too. For he finally stops, eyes searching for injury.

“Shit, Rin. Wait, let me just—,” he sputtered as he ripped the cuff off his sleeve, wrapping it gently around her shoulder to work as a bandage. 

Little does he know, though, the state of panic she’s currently in isn’t derived from the physical pain caused by a bullet grazing her skin, but something else . Something else he must not know. 

“There… Are you alright?” 

Rin isn’t sure how to answer that. “I’ll live.” She glances back, regrets not getting a chance to steal a glance at her shooter. “Do you think they’ll follow?” 

Nezha winces. “Unfortunately. Let’s take the main road and hope they’re not insane.” 

…

Completely insane. Their chasers are completely insane. 

The moment they step into the main road, a black SUV is perched on the roadside across from them. They don’t even try to hide their intention. Engines started upon spotting the two of them. 

“Lay low.” 

Rin need not be told twice. She keeps her head low, following Nezha’s lead as he steers her to swtich their position by her shoulders, positioning Rin inside the sidewalk. This causes her to steal a glance upwards and internally curses herself for the bad decision. 

Sinegard is beautiful. Even a better sight at night. Towering skyscrapers that glow, with their windows blinking like stars against the pitch dark sky. Huge signs resembling a giant TV on their walls, looming overhead as it seems to scream down at her face. The streets that seems to ever living, buzzing with activity. And employees in immaculate dress shirts and slacks that move purposefully, their ID cards swinging from their necks as they hurry along.

The futuristic layout of the city always makes her gloomy. But once she sees past these buildings and its people, she can see a warm golden light reflecting the air. It comes from the shorter buildings, shaped intricately of the old architecture, with red lanterns are still draping down to light its body. And although the skyscrapers have begun to take over the city, their charms endure, as if a reminder of what existed. Of what’s existing. 

Though, somehow, besides all the glory this city has to offer, they seem to be unable to shift her attention away from a man walking alongside her. 

For someone who could face death at any moment, Nezba appears remarkably calm—calm enough to maintain a composed demeanor and keep his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings, his mind practically racing to devise a plan to save both their asses. And from this angle— gods, from this angle—he looked ethereal . Even the moon seems to be working in his favor, its light illuminating his sharp features while softening the bright gleam in his eyes. 

How could someone look so lovely that it makes her head spin? 

Nezha takes a quick look down at her face, his eyebrows scrunching. “Are you listening?” 

Rin blinks slowly. “Yes?” She hates the little crack of her voice, and finds herself coughing to mask it. 

Nezha lifts one amused eyebrow, though he repeats his words. “I predict that our chaser here will make their move in the tunnel forward. There’s no chance for us to hide now, but we can distract them for a while by throwing this at them. Can you do that for me?” 

Nezha places a small firecracker in the palm of her hand. There are so many questions inside her head right now, but this firecracker seems to pique her interest the most. “Seriously, Nezha, what are you, ten?” 

He rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I can carry a gun everywhere.” 

Rin snickers at that. She does . 

… 

When the second bullet tears through the air, they can sense it instantly, though it falls far beyond their prediction. 

Literally, what the fuck is wrong with these people?

Rin and Nezha have barely time to cuss out their chasers before they duck low, both instinctively trying to cover the other. Nezha’s arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he uses his body to shield her from the direction the bullet came from. While on the other hand, Rin has protectively circling her hand around his neck, keeping their bodies bending low. 

If the first bullet has thrown the narrow road into chaos, then this bullet is erupting the streets into full-blown mayhem.

The once bustling streets turn into an overwhelming cacophony of sounds. People are screaming as they scramble around, stumbling over one another in an attempt to escape. Cars screech into a halt while the blaring of car horns piercing through the air. 

Still ducking low, Rin has no option but to share a meager space with Nezha. The limited gap in between their faces allow Rin to look closely at Nezha’s reaction. His entire face still remains cool enough, although once his eyes collide with hers, she can see the distant fear in them. Rin would think it has derived from the dread of losing his life, but the firm way he’s holding her right now, as if scared she might fall away from his embrace, gives her a different idea. 

A distant shriek of pain is the only warning they get before the third gunfire striking the air, aimed at no one in particular. The shot is wild, unpredictable, as though the culprit didn’t quite know how to aim, inexperienced. But with the crowded roads, and how people have scattered around, Rin isn’t too naive to get what it all means. Hence the moment her eyes met Nezha for the second time in the night, it is only make sense that the word comes out of their lips is—

“Run.” 

Off their go, hand in hand, their feets pounding against the concrete as they carry them forward, as fast as they’re capable too. The ominous rumbling of a car engine following close by. 

In the midst of the panic, Rin manages to scream out a question. “Can you ride a motorbike?” 

Nezha stares at her, wide-eyed, as if the question itself is absurd, given the situation. “Yes?” 

“Is that a damn question or an answer?” She snaps, the adrenaline starting to get to her. 

Nezha scowls in response. “It is a cautious step of what you have in mind.” 

“Oh, stop being dramatic, and get on that.” Rin stares ahead, pointing toward an overturned kawasaki ninja, the key still conveniently tucked inside the keyhole. 

“But, it’s stea—” Nezha stammers, right at the moment Rin winds her arm around his midsection, bending him down, and saving him from a bullet being embedded in his neck. 

He straightened up. “Alright, we steal then.” 

Rin rolls her eyes at him. Yin Nezha, ever the noble. Though she decided to keep her mouth shut. 

The motorbike lay haphazardly thrown near the sidewalk. The owner’s head must’ve been clouded with so much panic, then. Escaping while leaving their expensive-likely helpful-motorbike behind. 

As Rin helps Nezha lift the heavy motorbike, she is awfully aware of the menacing hum of the car still following close behind. When she glances back, she is met with at least two gun barrels pointing right at her head. 

Terrified, Rin hops on the motorbike, slapping Nezha’s back to urge him forward. 

“Go, go, go,” she urges, subconsciously pressing her body to Nezha’s in panic, and only releasing her hold when she finally feels the rumble of the engine.

“The fireworks, Rin.”

Rin twists around, clutching the small items tightly before hurling them with all her strength. One is aimed at the car's tire, and the other two at the heads of the bastards bold enough to aim their guns at her—all in three swift motions. It won't do much damage, but it's enough of a distraction for now as they speed off down the street.

“Fuck you!” She screams at them. Because, honestly, why not ?

…

“Hold on to me.” 

“Why would I do that?” Rin scoffs, deliberately backing her body away from him. 

Just to prove his point, Nezha twists the throttle, causing an abrupt increase of speed that almost sends her falling backward, if not for her rapid reflex to grip his waist. 

“You were saying?” 

Nezha can’t help the sly smirk from spreading on his face as he teases her. From the sound of her angry huff, he knows that she too can see how his expression looks. 

The warmth of Rin’s body pressed so close sends a pleasant tingle down his spine, a welcome comfort against the windy night air. Her presence is usually so immense and gallant that he often forgets how small she actually is, a detail now clear as he has her close to him.

It is almost distracting, her presence. Almost . Because once the rearview mirrors reveal not one, but two identical black sedans, shadowing close behind, his senses sharpens, and as he feels Rin’s body tense, he knows that the realization sinks on her as well. 

“Shit.” 

Well, yeah… He guesses that’s the only word for whatever this situation they ended up in. 

“Nezha, look out.” 

Nezha steers the motorbike just in time for the bullet to hit the asphalt, where they were only a second before. 

After the first bullet strikes out, it is not long until another bullet is thrown in their direction. Then, another bullet. 

“Nezha,” Rin calls out to him, her hands squeezing his midsection. 

“Yeah?” 

“I have a gun,” she confesses, her voice hardens. “But I can’t get a clear shot.” 

He’s about to ask her, where exactly she keeps this gun of hers. But he supposes, that is not important, is it?

“Get to the front.” 

…

With the wind howling and voraciously hitting against her face, Rin tries her best to comprehend his words. 

“What?” 

“Get here, in front of me, I’ll keep you safe.”

“Are you insane?” Rin screams, her voice fighting to cut through the roaring wind. 

“Do you trust me?” 

Well, no. But that is not a possible answer right now. 

“Ugh… yes?” 

Even with his face facing forward, and away from her sight, she can still feel his frown as he speaks, “is that a damn question or an answer?” He asks, parroting her earlier words.

“Alright! Yes. But if I died, I'd haunted you forever.” 

Rin’s not sure, but she thinks she hears him say, “Would love to.” 

“Come on.” He offers one of his hands, hovering it just above her right thigh, ready to catch her. “On the count of three.” 

“Wait!” Hesitation creeps in her chest. “You’d really catch me, right? You won’t let me fall?” 

Rin half expects he’d give her a snarky remark, maybe teasing her. What she fully doesn’t expect is a genuine answer to comfort her. 

“I will catch you, Rin. I’d always do.” 

“Right.” She doesn’t know how else to reply to him. “On your count.” 

“Alright, place your hands on my shoulders,” he instructs her. “On the count of three… one, two, three… now!”

In one swift motion, Rin lifts herself up from the rear seat and hooks an arm around his neck, using it for leverage as she swings forward to straddle his waist. Just when she feels like she might slip, his arm comes up, steadying her as he guides her to sit onto the fuel tank. And even after that, it stays there, secure and sturdy, keeping her safe. 

“There, I’m catching you.” 

Rin’s uncertain as to what she finds so amusing about the state she’s currently in. But she finds herself smiling so wide, at Nezha, out of all people. 

“Hmm… not too bad.” 

Nezha rolls his eyes in response. “Sure, now shoot those bastards before they do us, will you?” 

“With pleasure.” 

…

Rin keeps one arm wrapped around his neck, steadying herself, while using the other one to reach for her gun that somehow fits securely beneath the fold of her dress, strapped tightly on her upper thigh. 

“How convenient.” 

Rin leans forward, stretching her arm, trying to get a clear shot. 

With the remaining distance being cut entirely, Nezha finds himself utterly distracted, now. He can feel every part of her, moving in tandem with his body. From the way their chests are constantly brushing, he knows how fast her heart beats. Or the way her breath danced near his ear, frightfully controlled, given the situation. To be able to smell the lingering scent from her body, rose perfume and a faint strawberry shampoo he’d come to associate with her. 

This beautiful girl in his arms, whom he keeps safe as she protects the both of them. 

Bang !

The sound of a bullet breaking glass is the only thing interrupting his train of thoughts. Soon after, another two bullets following the first one, causing a loud screeching sound of cars halting. 

“Nezha,” she calls him, her warm breath grazing the shell of his ear as she sets her eyes focused onward, her jaw clenched. “There are too many of them.” 

True to her words, Nezha can see another black sedan appear behind the initial two through the rearview mirror, then another two driven on its tail. 

“What do you have in mind?” He asks, feeling the unfinished tone of her earlier words. 

Rin turns to lock her eyes with him. Confused at the sudden intensity of her gaze, Nezha can feel his cheeks heated up. “What are you up to?” 

“Can you speed up?” 

“Is this not good enough for you?” 

“Nezha,” she calls his name again, slowly, still with the same intensity. Her lips move, about to spill her plan to him when she gets disttacted, reaching out her arm to fire her gun. 

Nezha is too ashamed to admit he finds all that attractive. 

She sets her eyes back on him. “I have a poisonous gas bomb.” 

Should he be surprised or should he be afraid?

“All this time?” He finds himself saying instead. 

Rin tutted in annoyance. ”Well, sorry that killing thousands hasn’t crossed my mind.”  

He laughs, more as an instinct than anything else. “Alright, I can do as fast as you want, baby.” His tone is suggestive as he says that. 

She scrunches up in disgust. “You don’t have to make it dirty.” 

“What do you mean?” He answers, giving her the fakest innocent voice ever, she gagged in response. 

“Fuck off! Now, on my count.” 

“Got it.” 

Rin reaches behind her dress to retrieve three little tubes containing substances he'd prefer not to get contact with nor has any knowledge of. Her skill of hiding these things is starting to unsettle him. 

“Ready?” 

“Always.” 

At the time the tubes touch the asphalt, Nezha’s hands are already twisting the throttle, propelling them both almost flying ahead, and leaving behind their chasers to breath the poisonous air. 

The pressure of the motorbike battling against the soaring wind threatens to make her fall, if not for her hands locked securely around his neck. Rin leans in close, her lower thighs are on either side of his waist, keeping her steady. 

Nezha maintains the same speed all throughout the rest of their way. Even when they set a huge amount of distance from their chasers. Even when he can no longer see those menacing black cars shadowing closely. Some part of him is convinced, it is just a matter of precaution, lest the attackers have more resources than he has anticipated. Yet, a larger part of him knows that it isn’t true, at least not the whole truth. Because he secretly loves the way she’s holding him right now. It almost feels like a lover’s embrace. The fire he’d always thought could scorch him into ashes, turns to enveloping him in its warm enclasp. 

So when the motorbike finally screeches into a stop, right before the back gate of their office, Nezha can’t help but to feel the twinge of disappointment pinch at his chest. 

“Rin?”

“Are we here?” 

“Hmm, safe and sound, aren’t you?”

Rin grunts, and that might be the sign of her disapproval for his way of riding the motorbike. Perhaps she even had already called on his little modus. Except for that, when she finally picks her head up from his shoulder, all he sees is a little smile playing on her lips. With how close their faces are, he can trace the tiny shift of motions on her face, as well as the soft freckles lining on her cheeks. 

Maybe the punch he’d get afterward would be worth it, if it meant getting the chance to touch them with the tip of his finger— though tracing them with his lips might sound just even better —

“It was pretty fun, I guess,” she shrugs, lifting herself up and around to get off the motorbike. 

Nezha misses her warmth, already. 

“Now, come on,” she beckons him to follow suit. “Wouldn’t want to disrupt the prince’s curfew.”

…

The office looks different at night. All the lights are down, and the curtains are drawn, concealing even the faintest glow the moon offers. 

They pass by rows and rows of unoccupied cubicles, left for the file holders and photos their occupants left behind. 

It almost feels like the office is dead, no signs of life except for the constant gecko sounds in the distance, and Nezha’s ever undeniable presence trailing close behind her. 

It doesn’t take long for them to reach the janitor room. It doesn’t take long as well to swipe the access card and descend to the unknown floor. Rin might be a little too paranoia, given the situation she was in before this. But this is too easy. Why is no one here? Is this some type of ploy to uncover spies? Are they waiting on the other side of the elevator’s door to ambush them? Maybe even planning to kill them on sight? 

Rin’s hands are ready. One hovering over the place she places her gun, and the other on her back, in case anyone else needs a poisonous gas down their throat. 

But as the elevator’s door opens, slowly revealing the room it’s hiding behind, what comes to greet her eyes aren’t quite fitting with her expectation. 

It is a wide and white— really white space. The moment they step outside the elevator, the lights are automatically lit up, almost blinding her eyesight. 

Adjusting to her vision, Rin started to inspect the new area. At one glance, it might look like a normal room for the publishing office, maybe an archive. Unless, there’s no newspaper in sight, but instead, stood there in far behind the room, is an operating table. 

Rin snorts. “What is this, a secret psychopath’s cave?” Half joke, half serious curiosity. Rin looks back at Nezha, expecting him to retort back. But he is standing still, a deep frown has settled on his face. 

“Are you scared?” She teases him. 

“No, are you?” He teases her back, at least trying to. 

Somehow, although his voice is quite convincing, the way all the colors drained from his face has given him away. For what exactly? She wouldn’t know. 

Rin approaches the operating table. Right beside it, there are shelves lining the side of the wall. Now that she looks at them, she realizes that this entire space resembles that of a laboratorium. The shelves are full of Erlenmeyer of all sizes. Each of them are categorized with labels that she can’t even try to read, though all of them are filled with the same blue liquid, 

She doesn’t need to understand the labels, though. Because the Erlenmeyer, all of them, have an insignia plastered on the wider surface of them. The same insignia that has haunted her in the past couple of days. The same body of dragon, curling around a cross. 

Her mind’s gone completely blank for a second. The buzz of her cellphone, right on the back of her dress is the only thing bringing her back into the present. She stole a glance at Nezha, ensuring he doesn’t have his attention on her, before picking it up. 

“Yeah?’ 

“That thing you sent us a couple of days ago? It’s weird.”

“What do you mean?” She lowers her voice. “Just tell me what’s inside.” 

“Your husband is certainly a niche person. He is keeping these blue liquids—

“Rin?” 

Her heart stops at his voice, suspended in a moment of impossible stillness, only to slam back to life with a force that almost takes her breath away, it beats harder than even when she’s flying on that motorbike. Her mind scrambles to regain control, desperately commanding her heart to slow down, to steady her breath, to face him—to act like everything is normal. But the slow, deliberate sound of his footsteps creeping closer on the floor only feeds the wild rhythm of her pulse.

“Hello, Rin, are you still there?” Altan asks. 

A quiet stillness fills the air, amplifying the sound of when something heavy hits the ground. Only then does she dare to peek behind, and find Nezha already lying limp on the floor, blood pooling from his nose. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Chapter Text

Two Nights Prior

Rin has no idea what prompted her to do this—whether it was foolishness or courage. But the moment she stepped out of her shared apartment, her feet knew where they were supposed to carry her to. Her mind tells her that it will be prudence to inform Altan about her random inquiry deep in the night to a place that most likely holds the key witness to solve this murder plot. Perhaps even Kitay, if she feels patriotic. Yet Rin decided it was enough to lay her favorite shawl on the couch. So if—gods forbid—anything bad happens to her, Nezha would know that she is bound to come back, and couldn’t do so. 

The streets of Sinegard used to be a crowded space, even when the moon sits high up in the sky. The monster has stolen away the life that once thrived here, leaving behind an eerie silence to fill up the space. 

It’s no different on the street where vendors used to open their shops for twenty-four seven. Now, only shadows lingered under the dim streetlight. And maybe that’s what the bad premonition stirring in her stomach is about. Especially when her destination stares down their tall stature at her like an ominous presence. 

The photography shop brings her a sense of deja vu. Like a place she ought to remember although she can’t quite place the reason why. When her boots pattered on the stone path, the building hiss, as if waiting in silence for her arrival. 

The door’s latch clicked, and Rin let herself inside. But even when she strolls gently into the house, eyes searching for any sign worthy of her attention, she couldn’t quite shake that feeling of being waited for by someone. 

Her answer comes the moment she steps on the first stair. She feels it before she hears any movement. Turning back to face the figure, a dagger ready in one hand. What meets her doesn’t surprise her, though it doesn’t deter a chill from running down her spine. 

Standing three is a man, looking curiously at her with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. 

“Hello, Runin.” 

… 

Nezha doesn’t wake up until thirty-five hours later. Which is the reason why she finds herself with Kitay, bending furiously in search of any evidence from the crime scene last night. 

The shooting has left a bad taste in everyone's mouth this morning. Every media—TV,  radio, and newspaper are broadcasting the same thing. The clip of when she and Nezha flies out with the motorcycle repeatedly plays out. It was only by sheer luck that the low quality video didn’t manage to capture their faces. Those journalists even manage to track down the motorcycle’s owner, interviewing him like he’s the key to the mystery. It almost makes her giggle, seeing as the man talking as if he were the one riding it in the clip. 

Almost—-because if it weren’t for Baji, the motorcycle would become the biggest rookie mistake she’d ever made in spies history. 

She can see Kitay talking to a line of police guarding the scene. An overwhelming amount of reporters have tried to break through since this dawn, trying to get a glimpse across the line. Rin walks further ahead to the crime scene, burying her head deeper into her red shawl. The video that was taken might be low in quality, but it is better to be alert than sorry. 

She halts at the mouth of the tunnel, a shiver slicing through her as unbidden memories of Nezha’s hands on her—on that cursed motorcycle—flashed like sparks behind her eyes. She remembers vividly how close his face had been to hers, the firm plane of his chest grazing the soft curve of her own. His warm breath caressing her cheek and jaw, accompanied by the intensity in his gaze, almost as though he were ready to pounce on her, right there, and right then. 

She should’ve felt offended or perhaps scared to be subjected to such raw, unfiltered desire. Yet a part of her had reciprocated. She wanted and needed it. Him . 

Gods . Rin shakes her head, willing the thoughts to go away. The man is unconscious, and here she is having indecorous thoughts about him.

Her feet idly kick at a tiny stone. The force of it surprises a kitten on the sidewalk, it jumps out and sprinting away. 

Rin’s gaze follows the kitten rushing through the road, its nimble feet carrying it faster than its body could allow. Her gaze then settles to where it was lying down not long ago. It looks like the kitten has turned a small fabric into a plaything. 

There’s nothing special about the now licked-wet and dirt-smudged fabric at first glance. But another glance, and her heart drops to her stomach. 

She approaches the fabric with caution, eyes scanning carefully around her surroundings to make sure no one watches. Bending down, she picks up the fabric with two fingers to confirm that in fact, she is right. Nestled right in the middle of the flag is a symbol that has haunted her nightmares and daydreams these past few days. 

She steals a glance back at her best friend, the thought of making him aware of the situation flickering through her mind. After all, they both serve the same woman. Only, Kitay is a nationalist, he is loyal to the country first, and Su Daji second. Unlike her, who works for Daji first and foremost. 

She quickly sent a small apology to him through a telepathy, begging that he would someday understand—knowing the inevitable that he’d have to find out from somewhere else. 

Shoving the fabric into her pocket, Rin makes her way back out of the tunnel. 

Did you know that the Mugenese are desperate?

She thinks back of his words. 

I don’t know, Rin, they might be desperate enough to place both Hesperia and Nikan in some murder plot.

Did he really fall for it? The notion of Mugen being so desperate they’d resort to killing Hesperian and Nikaran? Because everything she’d uncovered has delivered her to a conclusion where Mugen is the furthest thing from being the one pulling strings behind the curtain. 

“Last night, on Monday December 30th at 11:03 P.M., a terrorist attack shook Sinegard.”

Rin looks up to meet the huge face of a news anchor on the bright screen of a Hesperian building. The woman is standing right in front of a police line, her blonde hair wisps around with the wind. Dwelling beside the woman is a young Nikaran man, he might as well be the most talked about individual right now. His face becomes familiar only for how many times he has appeared on TV, explaining the exact same thing to the press. 

“It just appeared on my porch this morning.” 

“Oh, no, no… I left it on the sidewalk last night.” 

“The man? Yeah, he kind of looks like me, doesn't he?” 

Kitay snorts, startling the shit out of her. “Since when are you here?” 

He ignores her. “From what vantage point does he look like your man?” 

Rin scrunches up her nose in disgust. “First, the video is too shaky for you to even see shits. Second, don’t call him that .” 

He looks sideways at her, raising suggestive eyebrows. “What? Don’t act like you wouldn’t know him with every inch of your senses being closed.” 

“Ugh,” she shoves him forward, causing him to stumble on his toes. “Get away from me.” 

Kitay howls in laughter. One of his palms lands on her shoulder, trying to steady himself. A retort is about to leave his mouth when Rin holds up her hand. 

“Kitay,” she says, pointing to the screen still looping coverage of the so-called terrorist attack.

But something’s changed.

The familiar white news ticker is now blazing red, the bold letters screaming a message as stark and undeniable as the revelation it brings:

SU DAJI, 32-YEAR REIGN—IS SHE STILL FIT TO SIT ON THE THRONE?

A scrap of fabric had never felt so heavy, pressed between her trembling palm

…

Her first instinct is to attack. 

How could it not be? When every dot shaped an arrow toward this man? The unsettling familiarity. The height. The sharp blue eyes, and how the very same man was the one following her and Nezha only a few days ago. 

But he seems calm—too calm for someone she’s about to murder, assuming he knows who she really is.

Her fingers grip onto a dagger, thumb hovering over the golden hilt. She sizes up his build. He might be at least forty years her senior, but his broad, sturdy shoulders and the assured way he carries himself tell her he’s a veteran.

The man raises a hand, palm open in a gesture of peace. “I’m sure I’m not the man you’re looking for.”  

Rin scoffs. “Oh? And who exactly am I looking for?”

He tilts his head, a slow, deliberate motion. “Monsters,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re not a monster?” She raises one eyebrow, skeptical. 

“I believe there’s a monster in every one of us, Runin.”

Her jaw clenches at the sound of her name in his mouth. She steps closer, blade half drawn, the tension in her shoulders threatening to snap. “If you don’t want this dagger slicing your tongue in the next five seconds, you better start talking sense.” 

Her threat doesn’t make him flinch. He only watches her with something like curiosity—worse, amusement—and slowly sits down on a stool nearby, legs crossed like they’re here for a chat over tea.

“Alright,” he says, voice level. “Ask me your questions. You’re here for them, aren't you?” 

She hesitates, not knowing which question is the right one to ask first. 

“You can sit too, if you want.” He gestures to one of the chairs inside the room, noting her hesitation.

Rin eyes the chair, one hand still holding onto a dagger. “Why were you following us?” She asks instead, choosing to ignore his offer. 

“Us?”he echoes.

Her eyes narrow. What is this man trying to play?

“You understand me.”

“Oh, perhaps I do. But I think you’ve misunderstood my intent. I wasn’t following ‘us’. Just you. He just… happened to be around.” 

She steps forward again“You can still see my dagger, can’t you?” 

The man has the nerve to laugh at her. Whether he’s clueless or too arrogant, Run couldn’t tell. 

“You sure are a demanding young woman,” he comments, adjusting his seat as if trying to shift the mood. “But here’s the thing, Runin. I have the sense that we might have a common enemy.” 

Rin frowns. “And who might that be? The monster?” 

He gives her a look. “You know there’s something bigger behind ‘the monster’. And I’m sure there’s some arrangement we could make that could be beneficial to both our interests.” 

That catches her off guard. For a second, she searches his face, trying to read through the careful calm. “I get the impression that you know who I am, right?” 

She takes it as a yes when he keeps on silent, looking up at her. “Then you must know who I work for.” 

Rin leans in. “Let me get this straight for you, the woman I serve has you at the bottom of her enemy list. Now what do you expect me to do with your offer? Accept it?” 

He looks away from her, the flicker of sadness crossing his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by her. 

“To this day, I still don’t understand how she inspires such devotion.”

The words land like a stone in her chest. She hesitates. Just for a moment. Is that his game? Planting seeds? Twisting loyalties?

She doesn’t intend to stick around to find out.

Not wanting to spiral further into this man’s nonsense, Rin backs away from him, ready to take her leave. She supposes there’s nothing worthy she could get out of him. 

Just before she takes a step outside the door, the man calls her name. “The monster is the one closest to us, Runin. You know where to find me once you’re ready for the arrangement.” 

…

The monster is the one closest to us. 

Rin slaps her palm onto the tabletop. “Is that what he meant by that?”

“Tigertits, Rin. What now?” Her sudden outburst has broken Altan out of his hyperfixation on the TV since the news came out, dragging his eyes away from the screen. 

“I still couldn’t believe it. That cursed symbol!”

Altan picks up a remote to turn down the volume. The tiny box has given nothing but the same line declaring Daji’s incompetent to stay on the throne. Only five minutes ago, a man who calls himself a political analyst came on a talk show to shittalk of how lame Nikan’s system of government is. Of how the people yearn for a change. 

“That’s rich coming from someone who’s led by a king themself.” 

“I’m saying.” 

“Anyways,” Rin circles back to the initial topic. “Does it make sense? If he’s part of this plot—organization or whatever they call themself with, why would they chase us yesterday? Gods, they repeatedly almost killed him!” 

He raises one unimpressed eyebrow. “Then he must’ve been hard to kill,” he says, regarding her carefully. “You should know plenty about that.” 

"But then," he continues. "It's just convenient, right? The murder plot and last night as the cherry on top for them to be able to put this everywhere." He points at the TV screen. 

Rin scowls at him, but her retort dies as Ramsa barges in without knocking. He dangles a letter between his middle and index finger. 

“Delivery for you, sir,” he says with a mechanical voice of a soldier. Rin finds that all but amusing. 

“Come in,” Altan replies dryly. “Not that you haven’t,” he adds, eyes pointing at the way both of Ramsa’s feet have landed three steps into the room. 

“Oh, she is furious,” Ramsa singsongs, tossing the letter onto the table and bolting before anyone can say otherwise, knowing damn well he shouldn’t open the envelope in the first place. 

“Hey,” Altan snaps, trying to fist Ramsa’s shirt. “You… little rodent.”

The boy is out the door and away from Altan’s hand, laughing hysterically, so amused at himself. 

Altan shakes his head in disapproval, although a secretive smile has taken place in the corner of his mouth. 

“She’s anxious, isn’t she?” 

Years under Daji had made her patterns predictable—when she’s nervous, she always returns to old-school methods. Paper letters. Hand-delivered. Untraceable, she’d say.

Altan unfolds the note, scans it quickly, then feeds it into the shredder. The hum of paper tearing to pieces fills the silence.

“She’s furious,” he tells her. “Although mostly anxious, yes.” 

“Well, then?” Rin prompts.

Altan folds his arms across his chest. “She gives the permission.”

A beat. 

“Operation: Seize a Monster.”