Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ash Lynx decided a long time ago that people were either smart or an idiot. While he thought himself smart for the first 18 years of his rather miserable life, with his iq alone being all the proof needed, the tides have unfortunately turned against him. Meaning, he was now amongst the crowd of the latter. Be a leader of a gang and heir to the New York mafia? Become the subject of a countrywide manhunt involving the Chinese mafia and corrupt American military? Nearly die in a library but end up living so you decide to fake your death in order to have some semblance of a normal life? Flee to middle-of-fuck-nowhere in Maine and get scouted by a fucking exy team? Yeah, those are obviously all live experiences had by a person of more than 2 brain cells. Perhaps he had hit his head one too many times during whatever the hell the past year was.

It was surprisingly easy to get all of his documents wiped. According to his records, Aslan Jade Callenreese was never born on Cape Cod, never played in the local little league, and, consequently never had any involvement in any subsequent events. The NYPD had already tried their best to coverup the shit show that was Dino’s death, meaning the identity that was Ash Lynx was buried under an Everest of NDAs.

Craving some sort of semblance of normal, Ash enrolled himself in the local high school as an emancipated 18 year old for his senior year. According to their documents, his parents had passed the year prior in a car accident, leaving Ash his own sole caretaker. Picking up exy was more of an accident than anything, he had snuck behind the gym after classes for a smoke break, procrastinating his long walk back to his empty apartment. The high school exy coach had simply walked out the gym door, spotted him, and stole his cigarette for a drag before dragging Ash by the sleeve of his shirt inside and handed him a racket.

It felt good, Ash had realized. To burn off energy on the court. To take his simmering anger out through violent checks that left him sore, sweaty, and aching for more.

It reminded him of Eiji, too. The dedication to a sport, the longing of a future long lost to you. Distantly Ash wondered if Eiji ever played exy as a kid in a little league camp that seemed to have been so popular as the newfound sport rose to fame.

A lot of things reminded him of Eiji nowadays. His heart felt as sore as his muscles did after practice most days.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, who’s to say, these decisions had left him sitting cross legged in one of the horrid orange armchairs in the team lounge of the Foxhole Court, his red converse clashing rather disgustingly with the color, his sharp gaze tracing the room mindlessly. To the tacky team photos on the wall, to the new freshman sitting across from him.

“Well,” Wymack clapped his hands together, standing at the front of the group, “Welcome back. I hope you have all enjoyed your summer break but please, please do not tell me about it. Since the team has nearly doubled since last year, I’m going to make you do an icebreaker because I know how much you love them. I don’t care what you say; Just say something.”

The captain, Dan, was the first to start, followed by the rest of the upperclassmen. Ash ignored them, he knew already memorized all of their files the night after Wymack flew to his high school to scout him.

“I’m Aslan. I’m from Maine.” He said briskly when it was his turn to speak. He knew that coming here was a risk, with all of the Moriyama shit that went down last year, especially since Dino had dealt the Moriyama’s weapons in the past. Ash knew that if his teammates happened to be following New York news at the time of Dino’s death, it would have been entirely possible they would have seen at least something in the news about him, whether it be how Dino’s beloved adopted son ended up in jail or missing. Distantly, he hoped they had enough shit going on by themselves to not to catch a resemblance.

He felt comfort in the fact that the name Aslan Jade Callanreese wouldn’t be tied to anything either. Even if the Foxes did their deep digging, which he knew they would, it would be near impossible for them to track anything down.

Still, coming to South Carolina was a bad fucking idea. With the new Fox players being released to the press in 5 days time, Max and Eiji were guaranteed to track him down and Yut Lung would call him as soon as the news dropped. He cracked his fingers to shake off the thought.

The Hispanic man, Nicky, Ash recalled, sitting on the couch next to one of the twins wolf whistled, “What is your zodiac sign? Please tell me you’re gay.”

Ash’s eyebrows rose, he expected the Foxes to be abrasive, but not this abrasive.

“Nicky,” The Minyard without the armbands said.

“Sorry.”

The Foxes moved on, continuing to go around the circle of armchairs.

All in all there were 6 new Foxes. Jack and Sheena were the new strikers and both seemed insufferable enough that Ash wanted absolutely nothing to do with them, Ash and Tia, were the new backliners. Tia sat in the chair adjacent to him. She was a short black girl, with round cheeks and a bubbly smile. Ash was secretly grateful to be stuck with someone who seemed to have some semblance of normalcy. Lastly, Marcus and Yusuf were the new offensive dealers.

“Thank you all for going through the joys of icebreakers with minimal suffering,” Wymack started, “Now, we are starting alphabetically with physicals for the freshman. Aslan, you’re up first.”
Ash tensed before forcing himself to rise out of his chair and make his way down the hall towards where Wymack directed Abby’s office to be. He felt eyes burning into his back as he did and every muscle in his body fought to resist the urge to look back.

“Aslan!” Abby greeted with a smile as he pushed the door open, “Now, this is just a basic physical so there is no need to be worried.” She proceeded to take his weight and height and ask various questions about his medical history which he was able to answer rather easily after spending way too much fucking time in and out of a hospital due to his various levels of injuries.

“Now, I just need you to remove your hoodie so I can check for track marks, I know it is uncomfortable but I promise it will be as quick as possible.”

Ash knew this was coming, yet he still allowed himself one second of hesistation. He was never one to be shy about his body anyways, even if his scars are unexplainable and a bit more than someone with a rough childhood would acquire. He removes his sweatshirt and Abby only tenses for a second before getting to work. He knows what he looks like, the raised scar tissue on his abdomen from the stab wound, the concerning littering of bullet holes, the assorted burns across his back that never quite healed correctly. Abby exhaled deeply.

“Alright, Aslan we are-“ Ash shoved his sweatshirt back over his head, and stood to leave, “-all done here. But I do have slight concerns about your weight, if you would be interested in working on a meal plan while you are here in the future I’m sure it would be easy to improve.”

Ash freezes, he knows his eating habits hadn’t always been the best in the past, but they had vastly improved during his time in Maine. Even then, he wouldn’t mind the help sorting something out. He told her this much, not letting himself shy away from the help for once.

She smiled warmly, “I am glad it is something you are aware of, Aslan. We can talk again, maybe next week, to get something sorted. Now, you can send whoever is next in.” She gives him one last smile before he heads back down the hall. Tia’s last name is next alphabetically so she flashes him a thumbs up and a blinding grin as she passes him. The upperclassmen are still here, their physicals are after the freshman. Everyone is gathered around each other talking about their summers, about Allison’s latest hookup with this rich socialite lesbian, about what movie they are going to watch tonight. Jesus, Ash didn’t expect them to be this loud.

Ash barely made it back to his seat before his phone started ringing in his pocket. “Shit,” he huffed, and anxiously fished it out of his pocket before pressing it to his ear, failing to notice how the Foxes conversations quieted down around him.

“Ash,” Yut Lung said, “you have a death wish, certainly, but somehow the jaws never quite bite all the way down,” He spoke in Chinese, and Ash was never more grateful to Shorter for teaching it to him, even on the rudimentary level that his was at, because he did not want to be having this conversation in English in front of these neanderthals.

“Yut Lung,” Ash ran a hand over his face and pulled his knees into his chest, “you’re early. How’d you even get my number?” He felt eyes on him now, and distantly wondered if he should just walk into the hallway now, but he figured it was too late and the attention was already on him.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Ash huffed a laugh at that, “The Moriyama’s know who you are, obviously. You’re lucky I put a claim on you otherwise Ichirou might’ve see you as a worthy investment. Or he might’ve seen you as a threat because of how much trouble you caused with It last year.” Ash didn’t need him to clarify what It was, it is always safer never to say banana fish out loud, after all.

“A claim on me?” Ash was too dumbfounded to answer in Chinese.

“Yes, dumbass,” Ash scoffed at the nickname, “I saved your life. You’re welcome.”

“Didn’t ask you to,” Ash said defensively, before realizing that this might be for the best, anyways, “Thank you though. Have you told-?”

“Yup,” Yut Lung said, popping the p unceremoniously, “Expect a phone call or an upset Eiji to show up at your door within the next week.”

Ash gawked, “Fuck you,” and intended to go off further but Yut Lung, the little shit he is, had already hung up the phone.

Well it’s day one and he is fucked, what else could he have expected? He looks up to his teammates’ eyes on him. Even the twin with the armbands who was twirling a knife between his fingers had put it away.

“What language was that?” Nicky asked.

“Chinese,” Ash answered hesitantly.

“You’re like the whitest looking person ever, you know?” He noted, “Like you got the blond hair and green eyes and everything. How do you know Chinese?”

“Childhood friend,” Ash added.

“Huh,” Nicky said, dumbfounded, “Do you speak any other languages?”

“French,” he admitted, albeit begrudgingly. He had always hated French, the only reason Dino made him learn it was because it was a romantic sounding language, and his clients were rather keen to a little French boy. The memories left a sour taste in his mouth. He refused to tell Nicky about Japanese, however. While he still wasn’t fluent by any means, he was by far above conversational at this point after spending everyday after school in Maine in the library reading whatever book on Japanese he could get his hands on. He felt blue eyes land on him.

“You speak French?” Neil Josten spoke up for the first time. Ash expected him of all people to be more talkative, as he had seen him be mouthy in interviews previously, but he supposed he was one of those people who talked only when incentivized. Ash didn’t know if he liked the idea of being the incentive.

“Unfortunately,” Ash replied in the same language.

Neil laughed at that, a bright sound that was pleasant to the ears. Ash wanted to hear that sound again. Ash knew his story in detail, probably moreso than some of his teammates due to his close ties to the Moriyama’s. How someone who went through so much still laugh that brightly? Eiji would laugh like that too.

Kevin Day, in turn, joined in on their French conversation and scoffed, “Unfortunately? It’s sophisticated.” He paused for a moment, thinking before switching back to English, “At least we can use it to make calls during games.”

“Yes, real helpful, Day,” Dan nudged her way into the competition, “Way to let the rest of us know what’s going on the court.”

Tia has returned to the chair by Ash’s left at this point, gesturing for the next freshman to head back. She smiled brightly at him before adding that she, too, can speak French, as she spent the better half of her childhood in Montreal. At this, Kevin look pointedly at Dan, as if one more person proved his point to its usefulness. Dan simply shook her head, clearly amused.

It took a while for the remaining Foxes to finish their physicals, by the end Ash swears Tia has told him her entire life story, including name dropping people she hated in high school. Ash can’t deny that he enjoyed it, and perhaps he is already a little fond of her. In some ways she reminded him of Bones, and his heart ached at the thought of his gang, of his family. Since he was going to be rooming with Matt and Aaron, Matt offered to drive him and his suitcase to the dorms, an offer in which he gratefully accepted.

Ash spent the drive to the dorms staring at the greenery of South Carolina, watching the campus buildings flow past. He couldn’t help but think of Eiji. He was going to hate him. After all, how could he have allowed him grieve for a second time when Ash was still alive and well? Ash felt suddenly stiff, the guilt inside freezing him solid. He caught a view of Matt’s concerned face in the mirror, Ash was obviously making a sour expression to warrant that, but he was nice enough not to ask about it and continued conversing with Dan in the front seat.

The dorms were more spacious than Ash had expected, there was the living room which had two couches, a coffee table, and a TV stand, connected to a small kitchen, and the bedroom off to the left side. That, too, had more space than Ash pictured the typical dorm room to have. He chalked it up to athlete funding, he supposed. There were two bunk beds pushed up against opposite walls, with the desks neatly lined up against the windows. The dressers were up against the far wall, next to that being the door into the bathroom. Ash took the bunk above Matt’s, as Aaron had already claimed the bottom one on the opposite wall, and, if he were being honest, Ash found no appeal in sleeping in close quarters to Aaron Minyard. He knew what the other twin was hiding under those arm bands, after all.

The Upperclassmen were planning on having a movie night in the apartment, which Ash was invited too simply by association of living with them, but he excused himself, claiming he needed to unpack.

If Ash spent the evening perched on the dresser smoking out the window with his clothes thrown messily upon his bed feeling like he was an old cloth with one loose thread pull away from unraveling, then that is nobodies business but his own.

Chapter Text

The first week of practice had Ash spending way too much brain power turning over how the Foxes managed to win last year. At first, Ash and Tia made a game out of betting quarters on who the next Fox to throw a bunch would be, but it quickly grew boring when $3 was spent on Jack alone. Jack would never actually be worth that much, Ash thought distantly. Yesterday Jack had made the mistake of punching Neil, who looked more entertained by his audacity than anything, only for Jack to be hit in the helmet seconds later with a sickening crack.

Andrew.

Jack and Sheena were far too aggressive, which would not be a problem in a sport like exy, but they simply lacked the talent to back it up. Marcus and Yusuf were deficient in drive. If they had tried to take at least half of the opening opportunities presented to them perhaps they would go a bit further. Tia and Ash were simply being run into the ground by the impossible devil himself, Neil Josten.
Tia’s upper body folded like a futon as she tried, and failed, to catch her breath.

“He’s so fast,” she gasped, “what the fuck.” Neil simply shot her a smile, his lips curling in amusement. Ash scratched the back of his neck, huffing a laugh with the entertainment in front of him.

The fractured hierarchy obviously bothered the Queen diva of exy, Kevin Day. More days than not, he had fallen to his knees muttering quiet French curses like a soldier lost to war when one of the freshman missed a simple pass. Or did so much as breathe, if he were truly to be honest.

Another thing about the foxes was, no matter how much they despised each other on court, they could unite for a betting pool. Jack and Sheena were both so despicable to the upperclassmen that they were unanimously convinced that they were perfect for each other and needed to start dating immediately. The pool of money had grown so exponentially fast that Ash was convinced at least two of them would go into debt from the results of said bet. Nothing was off limits to them, which should have been less surprising than it was. Their sexualities, their sob story backgrounds, and their secrets all had growing money pots.

Perhaps abrasive was too kind of word for the rowdy crowd that was the foxes.

By the end of the fifth day, order seemed to be restored on the court, which was evident by Kevin’s bitchiness going down by at least one notch. Wymack had widely grinned at them that day, his eyes a mirror of pride.

A team, Ash internalized after a particularly satisfying side step that had even Josten rethinking his footing, this is like what it is like to be a team. He was a snow leopard alone on top of a mountain, but perhaps the snow was always meant to thaw.
By the sixth day, everything went to shit.

After practice, Ash had sat down with Tia to work out their schedules for class registration to kill time before the team had agreed to meet up later. Ash had settled on English Literature for his major and Tia with Microbiology.

“Did you know that brewers were one of the biggest employers of microbiologists?” She had asked him, lounging on the couch in the foxes’ lounge with her legs draped casually over his lap as she held the course catalogue up startlingly close to her face to read the small font. “Different yeast produce different flavor profiles.”

“Nerd,” he huffed.

“Says you, Mr. I learned to read Ancient Greek to read the Iliad in its original text.” He reached over and flicked her forehead in retaliation. Dan had raised her eyebrows at that last comment, the other members of the foxes trickling back into the lounge.

“How many languages do you speak, exactly?” Dan asked him.

He shrugged.

“Oh god, not another one,” She replied, sounding exasperated but her eyes shone with the lighthearted jest. Ash raised his eyebrow in question.

“Neil.” She said, as if that alone was enough of an answer. And maybe it was, Ash had only spent a week around him, the entirety of that being in practice or whenever he stopped by the dorm to talk to Matt, which was not very often as Neil and Aaron seemed to have some sort of boiling detest for each other. Fair enough, as Ash found Aaron unpleasant on a good day and downright unbearable on a bad one. But it was not like Neil was particularly easy to be around either. He was a fox, after all.

“What about me?” Said subject of conversation asked, walking into the room, Andrew and Kevin trailing not too far behind. Dan simply shook her head and ruffled Neil’s hair affectionately.

By the time all the foxes got settled in the lounge in their respective seats, an anxious fog seemed to seep into the air, making seemly everybody jittery.

The Raven’s new lineup was being announced today, which explained both the impromptu team meeting after practice and the handle of vodka that Kevin seemed to pull out of thin air. If all else fails, he sure has a career as magician available to him.

Ash was rather surprised that the Ravens even decided to make a comeback. With the loss of Jean, Coach Moriyama, Riko, and the subsequent mental breakdown of at least five former Ravens all within a year, it was almost startling that they seemed to fall back on their feet ready to play for another semester. Ash had the advantage of knowing the Moriyama’s power meant that they could do whatever they wanted, and that a break to rebuild would also mean the shattering of their reputation.

As the TV flicked on, Neil’s leg began to bounce, Kevin drank a startling amount of Vodka in a single gulp, and Jack made a rude comment about said Vodka that earned him a pen to the forehead with shocking accuracy.

Andrew.

“Coach Rossi seems normal enough,” Dan commented with hesitant hopeful optimism. The new coach was a former Raven, Kevin had pointed out. How they managed to track down a Raven brave enough to stand alone trying to fill Coach Moriyama’s shoes, Ash didn’t know.

“There shouldn’t be a new coach at all,” Neil had added, “the Ravens and the nest should have been dismantled from the inside.”

They all silently agreed.

The Ravens press conference started with an introduction of their plan: an offering of a healthy support system to those affected by the shocking loss of Riko Moriyama the previous semester. The starting line up seemed shockingly normal, at least Ash assumed since Kevin had managed to surgically separate from the Vodka bottle in his hand long enough to place it on the floor.

Ash reached for the table in front of him to grab his water when he suddenly choked, drawing the attention of the other foxes before they traced his eyes back to the TV.

Raven striker #9.

No.

It’s not him.

Ash could barely make out what the others were saying to him, barely feel the hand that Tia placed on his hand to try and loosen his death grip on the glass of water, before he felt a hand on the back of his neck and it all came rushing back to him.

His hair was no longer upright in the mohawk style he was so proud of, there were no sunglasses hanging from his loose, stretched out t-shirt, his shark-like grin wasn’t etched on his face.

I put a bullet through that skull.

Ash flinched so suddenly that the glass gripped in his hand shattered to the ground, the grip on the back of his neck turned from grounding to threatening and Ash threw himself off of the couch and straight out the door of the foxes lounge, leaving a gaggle of shocked faces staring after him. He sprinted, his hands unable to be steadied as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing the most recent, and only, number in it. It picked up on the first ring.

“Yut Lung.” Ash said desperately, aimlessly sprinting down the street. He didn’t know where he was going. He just needed to be away. Away from that team of prying eyes, of that version of him that wasn’t him.

“You burnt his body,” Yut Lung stated, almost begging for confirmation, “They tried to take his brain but you burnt his body to ash in the basement of that lab.”

“It can’t be him,” Ash pleaded. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before. He is in the ocean and the water is freezing, chilling him to the very core.

“It is him,” Yut Lung insisted. Ash didn’t deign to reply. He simply fell to the ground in a patch of grass, grasping at the blades with his fingertips, desperately trying to ground himself back to reality.

Wearing the Edgar Allen Ravens black and red was Shorter.

Chapter Text

It took Ash two hours to make it back to the athlete dormitories. And even then if felt too soon to see his roommates again, to feel their questioning stares burning holes into his body, as if he’d be able to even answer their questions in the first place.

Yes, my childhood best friend came back from the dead.

Yes, I was the one who killed him.

Yes, there is clearly something wrong if he was found standing empty eyed in the Nest of the Edgar Allen Ravens, the purple hair he’d claimed he’d keep until he was far past old and wrinkly was shaved clean off.

Ash found himself walking upwards to the roof of Foxhole Tower instead, tactlessly ignoring the faded red No Entry sign with a huff and instead twisted his wrist to shimmy the door lock with a jolt to get it open. He wasn’t too sure how long he sat out there, the sun had long fallen, his earbuds sat loosely in his ears in a desperate attempt to block his spiraling, despite how he had failed to remember to even press play. He listened to the rustling of the breeze, the cooler temperature bringing some respite from the brutal South Carolina summer heat.

Distantly, he wondered if somehow he was wrong; if maybe the Minyard twins were mad scientists who had infected him with their ingenious disease, causing a duplicate of Shorter to appear naturally in the wild, like some sort of sick and twisted National Geographic new discovery that would earn an award from the National Academy of Sciences in 20 years time. He couldn’t totally scratch that possibility off the list, it wasn’t like he trusted either the boring twin or the knife-wielding one.

I should have stayed in New York, Ash heaved a sigh. He should’ve sprinted to the airport despite the blood loss of his open wound. He should have seen Eiji, caressed his hair gentry beneath his fingertips. Yet despite facing off the entire Corsican mafia, he cowered at the idea of being eye to eye Eiji because he knew that if he saw him again he would have grabbed onto his shirt with desperation and not been able to let go. Till death do us part, he thought depreciatively.

The once gentle breeze turned nearly biting, gingerly nipping his ears and whispering the long list of things he should be doing to find answers to Shorter’s appearance, none of which involved simmering in his depreciation. It wasn’t the wind that startled him out of this self induced trap, however, it was the door to the rooftop swinging open in one quick sweep, slamming carelessly into the wall. Ash jolted his neck with a start, earbuds falling gracelessly out of his ears, as he turned just in time to see the knife-wielding twin approaching him in strides.

Ash didn’t flinch as the knife-wielding twin used his namesake, the cool press of the steel resting dangerously, temptingly against the skin of his neck. It didn’t matter if Ash could easily have the knife off of his neck and falling off the roof within seconds, this day was far too fucked up for him to even have the energy to care enough to make that happen.

“What was that.” Andrew stated, not questioned, as if the lack of upward tone would make Ash more likely to answer.

It took him a few seconds to reply, and it would have taken a few more if not for the press of the knife suddenly becoming deeper. “He reminded me of someone.”

“Who.”

“Someone I thought was dead.”

Andrew contemplated that for a moment, or at least Ash thought he did, as the knife’s edge did not feel any sharper.

“Your file seems awfully clean for someone to have such a dramatic reaction to a similar face,” Andrew hummed, “What is your connection to the Moriyamas?”

“I have no connection to the Moriyamas,” Ash snorted flippantly, as he technically was not lying. Andrew simply had to ask the right questions. The knife grew burning, Ash couldn’t tell if there was blood on his neck yet or not.

“No?” Andrew hummed, “then what is your connection to Dino Golzine?”

The chill in his veins was no longer from the breeze, no, it was ice cold shock. How could Andrew know that name? Surely Neil couldn’t know anything of Dino’s connection to the Moriyamas. And even if somehow he did, how could they have connected Ash to him? His face was never shown in the news after the fact of Dino’s death due to him being a minor during the majority of the case, and any gang related news was wiped off of the internet by the FBI.

Fuck it, Ash was too curious not to bite. “How do you know his name?”

“Who would have thought I would live to see the day Allison Reynolds would be proved useful.”

“Allison.” Ash realized with a start.

Of fucking course she of all people would know, of course she would have seen his face, seen pictures. Fucking New Yorkers, it is impossible to live in New York and not be able to recognize Dino Golzine as wealthy businessman, former friend to many renowned US politicians plastered on the front page of every other New York Times article, both before and after his unwilling demise.

“She recognized your face to be familiar. Didn’t know where from until you stormed off today looking all dangerous and broody and it finally clicked in her mind. That blonde child spotted in photographs with Dino Golzine at banquets, his beloved adopted son,” Andrew paused before continuing, watching the sheen of panic in Ash’s eyes with perhaps only a speck of intrigue, “Plagued to live with many mafia imbeciles myself, is not hard to figure out Dino Golzine’s former connections to the mafia. What I do not understand is why he decided to parade around with a child, and why said child is all the way south in Palmetto parading around with secrets.”

The door swung open again, and Ash thanked god that knife-wielding twin’s clone was becoming a doctor, because the steady hands definitely were genetic, as Andrew did not so much as move a millimeter as the creak of the door cut through the conversation like thunder.

“Andrew,” Neil said with a sly twitch of the corner of his lips, walking leisurely over to the pair, seemingly not at all startled by the knife his boyfriend was pressing into the freshman’s neck, “don’t you think it is a bit late for an interrogation?”

Andrew paused for what felt like minutes, before not-so-graciously removing the knife from where it was resting in the crook of Ash’s neck.

“I, personally, would not like a repeat of last year. One mafia runaway caused enough of an annoyance to me already.”

“And who might you be referring to?” Neil asked, his sly smile somehow getting slyer, his startling eyes somehow gleaning despite the moon’s crescent form lacking in brightness.

Andrew’s only response to that was the hardening of his eyes.

“Oh god, and I thought Dan and Matt were bad,” Ash realized with a groan. Neil laughed gleefully before coming over to sit next Ash by the wall of the rooftop, Andrew hovering by Neil’s side, falling into place like the remaining two pieces of a puzzle.

“Who was that on the Raven lineup?” Neil asked flippantly, as if he were only asking about the weather.

“Shorter Wong,” Ash admitted with a sigh, afraid he has already dug himself into too much of a hole to get himself out of with only his fingernails and lies. Fuck it, if the truth is what they want, then that is what they will get. Fuck it all. “He was my best friend.”

“And how is your dead best friend suddenly resurrected from the dead standing in the Raven’s Nest?”

“When you find out, gladly give me a call,” Ash countered, his voice airy with equal annoyance and doubt. “I burnt his body,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“And Dino’s connection to the Moriyama’s?”

“Only business, the shuffling of offshore accounts and trading weapons internationally. Him being stationed in New York, along with his political connections made a collaboration convenient and beneficial to both of them.”

Neil bit his lower lip, as if to help digest that information, “and your connection to Dino?”
“What else would a rich old white man want with a young prepubescent boy?”

Andrew’s hand that was half way to pulling a cigarette out of his crumpled pack froze. Neil’s gaze, which was focused on the ground below turned its attention to Ash’s side profile.

The weight of the pair’s attention suddenly felt too heavy for him to bear. Ash stood, brushed the dirt off of the knees of his blue jeans and headed towards the door of the rooftop.

“Aslan,” Andrew said, stopping Ash effectively in his tracks, “Come to Columbia with us next weekend. We have a house there. I would like to get to know you better.”

Ash was not stupid, and therefore he immediately recognized the threat of distrust for what it was: a test. But because Ash was stupid, he simply shrugged his shoulders in compliance as his hand reached for the door handle.

“Ash,” he said, “you can call me Ash.”