Alexandra Nicole

Author, Writer, Artist

[thenovelartist]

TheNovelArtist Masterlist

To view my work on Fanfiction, click HERE

To view my work on AO3, click HERE

All Miraculous Ladybug, Honkai Star Rail, and assorted Anime fanfictions can be found at the above links.

The Webtoon fanfictions and most Otome Game items are exclusive to Tumblr.

~Otome Game Masterlist~

Included fandoms:

Bustafellows

Code:Realize

Ikemen Sengoku

Ikemen Prince

Mystic Messenger

Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Tears of Themis

~Honkai: Star Rail Masterlist ~

Includes Artwork and Fanfictions

~Webtoons~

If Only We’d Escaped the Sea - Siren’s Lament AU

First Holiday Together (25 Drabbles of Christmas 2020) - Siren's Lament

Down Time - Age Matters -

The Problem with Standiel - Age Matters

Don’t Leave - Age Matters

Snowman (25 Drabbles of Christmas 2020) - Age Matters

I've Captured an Impulsive Airhead - Beware the Villainess

Decorations (25 Drabbles of Christmas 2020) -The Kiss Bet

~Anime~

Homecoming Queen (I’ll steal you away) - Fruits Basket AU - Completed - 6 Chapters

The Nights are Shorter with You - Fruits Basket

Sei’s Magic Brew - The Saint’s Magic Power is Omnipotent

Desperately - Kakuriyo: Bed and Breakfast for Spirits

Bandaids lead to Bullet Holes - Bungo Stray Dogs

[thenovelartist]

By Any Other Name - Chapter 7

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Considering how deep a daze she was in, Stelle probably shouldn’t have been driving, but how else was she supposed to get home? (The logical answer was to call Moze, but she hadn’t thought about that until much later when he’d called her to check in.) Regardless, she made it home safe.

After pulling into the driveway, she flicked off the engine. And then she just sat there, still in her daze. She’d found Dan Heng. Her heart could scream with joy.

Unbidden, a chuckle escaped her. “Holy crap,” she breathed, roughly running her hands through her hair. No longer was he the awkward teenager she still found attractive, but he’d grown into a devastatingly handsome man. When he’d embraced her, she noted the muscles in his arms and the breadth of his chest. And his voice! He’d been on the edge of puberty when they’d parted, the tone somewhere between a child’s and a man’s. Now, it had mellowed into a calm, soothing timbre. What she wouldn’t give to listen to him speak for hours on end.

Her heart raced at the thought.

Pull it together!

Where the rational thought came from, she didn’t know, but she clung to it for dear life. Taking a few steadying breaths, she finally stepped out of the car. It was late, and after visiting “The Pit”, she wanted a hot shower to wash away the sweat and grime.

She fumbled with her keys for a bit before finally managing to unlock the front door.

“Hey, get anything?”

Stelle startled at Silverwolf’s voice. Only then did she realize the girl was lounging on the couch in plain view. How did Stelle miss the blinding computer light, the sounds of a game echoing through the room, or the stench of cheap instant noodles?

Aeons, she was completely out of it.

At Stelle’s silence, Silverwolf paused her game, causing the music to dampen. “Something happen?”

Something? Her whole world had shifted, and Silverwolf called it something? At least for once, it had shifted back into place. “I found him.”

“You found who?”

“Dan Heng.” She thought she’d sobbed it out already, but the tears welling in her eyes proved otherwise. “My cousin. I found him.”

“Wait, what?” Throwing her computer to one side and her neon blanket to the other, Silverwolf sprang off the couch. “For real?”

Stelle nodded.

“How do you know it was him?”

“I just… do.”

“Geez,” Silverwolf grunted. “Sit down and start explaining.”

Hence, Stelle collapsed into the nearest chair, words pouring out of her in a jumble. More than once did Silverwolf have to throw tissues at her.

By the end, Silverwolf set the box of tissues aside. “I mean…  it sounds legit, but you can’t be sure, can you?”

Every fiber of Stelle’s being protested the absurd challenge, her face turning hot as her heart raced anxiously.

But before she could retort, Silverwolf quickly backtracked. “I’m just trying to look out for you, okay? How do you know he’s not playing you?”

“I just know, Sil,” she defended, crumpling the damp tissues in her fists. “Can’t you trust me on this?”

Silverwolf’s lips twisted in a grimace. “Look, I know how much this guy means to you, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. Like, how much do you know about this guy? And I don’t mean from before. I mean who he is now.”

“I know he looks like Uncle Dan Feng. I know he happened to have information a normal person shouldn’t have.”

“No, no,” Silverwolf cut in, pulling her computer back into her lap. “I mean, if I’m gonna run a background check on this dude, what do you know about him? And don’t even try to talk me out of it. You’re going on a date with him, right? This is just standard procedure.”

As much as Stelle wished to argue, she couldn’t here. This was their pre-date ritual: sharing a snack as they rated the quality of the material they found before assigning an overall score to the man. There were times Stelle enjoyed this moment more than the date itself. “He’s been going under the alias Daniel Yang,” Stelle answered, bitterness eating at her gut. “Um… he was taken in by Himeko and Welt Yang. And he’s Robin Oak’s bodyguard. I have his number too.”

“A solid place to start.” The clacking of computer keys echoed through the room. “I’ll have a full background done on him by morning. Now get some sleep. You look like crap.”

“Gee, thanks,” Stelle muttered, chucking the tissue wad at Silverwolf. She grinned at the disgusted yelp it earned her.

After a long, hot shower, Stelle collapsed into bed. Any worries she’d had about not being able to sleep were disproven as she promptly crashed out. That night, she dreamed of blue eyes, short yet ruffled black hair, and a smile she’d last seen years ago.

She was pissed when she woke from it.

Dragging her butt out of bed, she stumbled downstairs to the kitchen, where a pile of papers sat on the kitchen table along with a sticky note.

Be sure to read it over before you go on a date. And don’t forget to tell Mom and Dad. – SW

Right, she had to tell them. But that could wait until after they returned home. Some things were better in person.

Oh, she had to tell Caelus, too. He’d be over the moon.

She took a steadying breath, the overwhelm causing her hands to shake. One thing at a time.

Setting aside the sticky note, she glanced at the top page, her eyes immediately locking on the profile picture. The standard issue ID photo was immensely unflattering, but Stelle still found it beautiful.

Because he was alive.

The words blurred on the page; whether from excitement or another round of tears, she didn’t know. Too anxious to read, Stelle simply flipped through the papers, hoping there might be another photo—

She froze. Another identification photo, but not of Dan Heng. Of a woman. Long purple hair, and blue-green eyes.

Was that Bailu?

Stelle’s mouth hung open. What had happened to the tiny cousin in her memories that always followed them around, wanting to ‘play with the big kids’? When had she been replaced by this lovely lady?

Before she cried all over the papers, Stelle tossed them aside. Breakfast first. Er… brunch? Whatever. She just needed to eat before she went back to the pages she knew would wreck her.

As she scavaged the kitchen for food, she recalled she still had to figure out where they were going to meet in the first place. Had his taste changed? Did he have new allergies or aversions like she did? She also needed a place casual enough to not feel like a date but not so commonplace that it completely took away from the significance of the moment.

And what was she to wear? She needed to dress up for this event but not overly so. Should she raid Mom’s closet or pick something from her own?

With a groan, she ran her hands down her face. This was going to be a tumultuous morning.

~~

Seafood. They’d agreed on seafood. While a little more on the expensive side, Stelle couldn’t help but think of the place she’d taken a couple dates to. Even when the dates themselves were lackluster, the food had always been delicious.

The haze of elation had settled over her all day long, making her lose track of time. Which was why she’d arrived maybe a bit too early. Now would have been a great time to read the background check… if she’d remembered to bring it. After she’d set it down that morning, she hadn’t found the time to pick it back up again. Silverwolf was going to be mad if she ever found out she’d put in all that work for nothing.

Then again, maybe that was for the best. It meant Stelle could hear everything straight from Dan Heng’s mouth first. She could crosscheck it against what Silverwolf had found after the night was over.

Before she got out of her car, she fluffed her hair one last time, then checked her makeup in the visor mirror. She’d kept her look simple for tonight. She wasn’t one for flashy makeup anyway, work being the only exception. Deciding she was presentable, she stepped out of the car, only to be greeted by the evening chill of late spring. While her long-sleeved blouse and knee-length dark skirt sufficed, she decided to grab her coat in case the night got any cooler.

From her new vantage point standing before the restaurant, she watched every car that came in and out of the parking lot. While she barely recalled anything from skimming the papers this morning, she did remember seeing something about a motorcycle being registered to him. She hadn’t pegged him as a bike guy, but the mental image that conjured was rather hot.

Okay, really hot.

Her heart thumped in her chest, cheeks warming against the cool air. For the umpteenth time today, she reminded herself to calm down. This wasn’t the Dan Heng from her memories. He wasn’t the teenager she’d given her first kiss to, the one she’d once called her boyfriend. They were adults with two separate lives now. So this wasn’t a date. It was… it was two cousins meeting again.

A little piece of her heart that died every time she reminded herself of that. Shameful on her part. Their meeting was plenty exciting as is. She shouldn’t get down in the dumps because her love life had been a roaring dumpster fire.  

The rev of a motorbike echoed in the night air, causing Stelle to lift her gaze off her ankle boots. A black bike rolled into the parking lot, and as it wove closer to the building, her heart started to soar. Was that…?

It found a parking spot, one that had conveniently opened up near the front. And when the cyclist took off his full helmet—

Oh, aeons, this was way hotter than her mental images.

As Dan Heng approached, Stelle appraised his figure. He wore a plain white shirt under his leather jacket, one striped with red, as well as dark jeans. A simple combination, yet it did him a world of favors. And when he ran his hand through his hair, trying to fluff it out again after being stuck under the helmet?

Stelle came to terms with the fact that her heart simply was not going to behave tonight. She’d have to brace for the heartache later.

When he spotted her, his expression illuminated like a moon on a full night. “I’m sorry. Work went longer than anticipated. Hopefully I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“It’s fine,” she lied, a little breathless. “You made it in time for the reservation.”

He reached for the door first, pulling it open. “After you.”

Her grin widened, cheeks warming as her heart screamed It’s a date! She clutched the purse she stole from Mom’s closet, hoping that would hide the fact her hands were still shaking. “Thank you.”

Soon enough, they were guided to a table and given menus. They bantered a bit about what to order, if they should get an appetizer, or of they should split a larger platter.

When the waiter appeared, they ordered their drinks. When he returned with them in hand, the duo then placed their order: two platters and an appetizer to share. After confirming their order, the waiter took their menus. Nothing stood between them now.

“So,” Stelle started. “I have a proposition.”

He quirked a brow. “A proposition?”

She nodded. “Let’s play twenty questions. You get to ask me any twenty tonight, and I get to ask you any twenty, alternating between who’s asking. We can catch up that way.” Maybe this was unnecessary, but she’d overthought this evening the entire day. What if they got stuck? What if things turned awkward in the middle? What if Dan Heng was the same quiet Dan Heng he’d been in middle school and wouldn’t willingly open up, even to her? She didn’t want to come off too pushy or overshare while he stayed silent. Henceforth, in hopes to equalize the conversation, this was the conclusion she came to.

Dan Heng quickly mulled her words over. “Alright. You start with the first question, then.”

She was going to give him the chance, but she’d take the lead if he wanted her to. It felt a lot like the old them. But when their eyes met, her misbehaving heart thumped. Okay, fine, it’s a date. Calm down! Taking a breath, she fought past the knot in her gut as she asked the question that had been burning in her mind since yesterday. “What happened that night?”

Pain pinched both the corners of his lips and between his brows.

“I know,” she said, guilt tainting the elation in her heart. “Debbie Downer over here starting off the night with a bang, but… I have to know.”

“I know,” he calmly assured. “Especially since my first question will be the same.”

Dan Heng then launched into the story, one involving a car wreck, gunshots, an exploding building, and a bastard named Taoran (Stelle knew she never liked him). He’d described how Himeko and Welt had appeared at the opportune time, having had dinner near the hotel before heading home. They’d seen the car crash and gotten involved against their better judgment.

“I’ll forever be thankful for them taking Autumn… er, Bailu and me in,” he finished. “Or, we really would have died that night.”

Unable to keep her distance, Stelle reached across the table, laying a hand over his arm. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I heard from Dad what had become of Uncle Dan Feng, but I didn’t know how it happened. And no one could figure out what had happened to you two. I’m just…” she swallowed, trying to tamp down her emotions before they welled up into tears. “I’m so glad you made it out alright.”

He put a hand over hers. His touch was so warm, so calming. It grounded her, even while her heart registered how large and sturdy his hands had grown.

“I suppose it’s my turn?” Dan Heng spoke. “To ask you…”

“Oh.” Stelle forced herself to pull back. “Yeah, of course.”

“I looked for you for years, but I couldn’t find any traces of you… or anyone, really. What happened to cause you to go into hiding?”

Gunshots rang in her ears. The weight of a gun suddenly appeared in her empty hands, the cold handle gradually warming under her touch as the long minutes ticked by.  

She blinked, trying to reground herself to reality. While the words did not come easily, she forced them out bit by bit. As she pieced the story together, she watched his expression twist, pain etching deeper lines into his brow, his lips, the corners of his eyes.

“Thank you,” he eventually said. “For sharing that.”

“You deserved to know. Obviously, we had to get the heavy questions out of the way first so we could ask the better ones.” She forced a smile, but he didn’t mirror it. The best she got was some of his visible discomfort alleviating. “Like, how is Bailu? What’s she up to?”

“She’s in pre-med. She’ll graduate this semester.”

“That’s all?” Stelle challenged. “I haven’t seen her in thirteen years, and that’s all I get? Not even a picture?”

Finally, a small smile touched his lips. He pulled out his phone. “I don’t know what else to tell.”

“No boyfriends or anything?”

“No, she’s very focused on school. And snacks, I guess. She runs a little hobby blog critiquing every snack place in the city. It does well enough that she earns a bit of spending money from it.”

“See? That’s impressive. And very her.”

He turned his phone around, showing a photo of a beautiful young woman standing beside Dan Heng himself. “This was on the last vacation we took. We went to Scalegorge Waterscape to celebrate her graduating high school,” he explained.

With an excited gasp, Stelle took the phone from him. “She’s so pretty, look at her! When did she grow up so much?”

“I find myself wondering the same thing,” he spoke fondly. “That was right before she started college. She took a lot of advanced classes in high school that gave her college credits, so she managed to skip a year. It’s why she’s graduating pre-med a year early. As for which sector she wants to go into, she isn’t sure yet. She says she’ll decide once she experiments in med school.”

Stelle stared at the photo a moment longer before handing it back to him. “Good on her for getting so far already,” she said. “I’m proud of her.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her.”

“Have you told her yet? That you found me?”

Dan Heng shook his head. “I haven’t had the time to tell anyone.”

“Fair enough. I haven’t either. Mom and Dad are out of the city, and Aaron… er, Caelus is swamped.”

“Aaron?” he asked. “That’s what he goes by now?”

“Yeah. As for how he’s doing… well, the big news is he got hitched.”

Shock flashed across his expression. “I… I guess we’re at that age.”

“Oh, this was five years ago. He was still in college when he and one of my friends tied the knot. So, I may be biased, but as far as sister-in-laws go, she’s amazing.”

“Congratulations to him.”

“As for what he does… you’ll never believe what that lucky duck scored for his career.”

That earned her a quirked brow; a silent “continue” hanging in the air.

“He plays for the Titans. The baseball team.”

Dan Heng blinked, his eyes blowing wide. “The Titans?”

Proudly, Stelle nodded. “We couldn’t believe it when he’d first been scouted. I mean, what are the odds, he’d play for our favorite team?”

“Aaron Hunter,” Dan Heng realized, “Are you saying Caelus is Aaron Hunter?”

Surprise smacked her in the chest like a baseball, rendering her speechless. “You… keep up with baseball?”

He gave a sheepish half-shrug. “The Titans is my niece’s favorite team.”

And the hits just kept coming. “I’m sorry, your niece? As in Bailu’s daughter? Was that not relevant info—”

“No!” Dan Heng was quick to clarify. “No, not Bailu. Um… the man who came to pick me up last night, Boothill; he’s become a really close friend of mine. His adopted daughter, Clementine, thinks of me as her uncle.”

After that mini heart attack, Stelle heaved out a sigh. That didn’t stop the new info from flying around her mind, and causing damage like a feral raccoon in a china shop. Dan Heng had new friends he was so close with he could consider them family. You’ve been replaced, her heart cried.

Yeah, there was the heartbreak, a lot sooner than expected, too.

Thankfully, the waiter reappeared then with their appetizer: a plate of oysters. It was just the distraction she needed. “You still like these, right?” Stelle asked.

“Of course,” Dan Heng said, reaching for one. Then he chuckled. “I remember the last time you had one. I thought you swore them off since then.”

“Would you believe I forced myself to like them?”

His brow furrowed. “Why?”

She took one, staring at the meat in the shell. “Because every time I saw them, I went back to that day at Scalegorge Waterscape. After losing you… I didn’t want to forget, so I taught myself to acquire the taste.”

That earned her a scrutinizing stare from Dan Heng.

Desperate to escape that intense gaze, she knocked back the oyster. “So, uncle Dan Heng, huh?”

“Well… Uncle Daniel,” he corrected, eating his own oyster. “But… yes.”

Again, her heart cracked. That’s right: they weren’t Dan Heng and Stelle anymore. They were Daniel and Gray. This wasn’t just two old companions meeting again, all grown up. Two completely different people sat at this table. She best remember that. “How old is she?”

“She’s eight. She takes after Boothill a shocking amount, given they aren’t related.”

“So, he and his wife decided to adopt or something?”

With a shake of his head, Dan Heng leaned forward. “He’s not married. Years ago, Boothill found a pregnant woman in need of help stranded on the side of the road. She…” Dan Heng glanced around, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. “She was a Sanctus Medicus victim. While transporting subjects between locations, one of the vehicles crashed. She’d managed to survive, but not without severe injuries. Boothill immediately took her to the hospital, but she didn’t make it. Clementine was born via cesarean after she’d passed. When the hospital staff came for answers, Boothill lied and said he was the father because he’d promised the woman he’d make sure her child didn’t fall into Sanctus Medicus hands.”

Stelle’s gut sank. How many lives did this damn cult have to ruin? “That’s horrible.”

“That’s why he agreed to come with me last night, even though he shouldn’t have. He wants answers on Sanctus Medicus as much as we do.”

“Your friend sounds like a pretty stand-up guy.”

“He is,” Dan Heng said, his firm assertion just as telling as the confirmation. “And since I rent a room from him, we’ve gotten close. In a way, it makes sense for me to be Clementine’s uncle, especially since she was unfortunate enough to get side effects from whatever testing her mother was subjected to. I’m one of her emergency contacts.”

“Well… I’m glad you have a friend like that.” Only a partial lie. “But I gotta admit, I’m kinda jealous you got to be an uncle before I’m an aunt.”

“Caelus and his wife don’t have kids?”

“Not for lack of trying,” Stelle said. “Firefly has chronic illnesses, and one of the wonderful side effects is unexplained infertility. They really want kids, and I’m rooting for them so hard, but no luck for them yet.” She shrugged, trying to brush off the heavy topic. “I guess we’re both doomed to watch our family suffer health crap.”

Dan Heng’s frown was pitying. “It makes me realize how lucky Yanqing and Moze were to escape such fates.” He then eyed her. “At least, in childhood.”

She grinned. “They’re both healthy as horses. Yanqing’s got a fiancée, and their wedding is coming up in the fall. Yunli is so sassy; I love her. She’s good for Yanqing. Moze is still single, but he does have a little sister now.”

“Adopted?”

“No, actually. She was a…” Stelle suddenly slapped her hands on the table in horror. “Oh my aeons, I didn’t tell you what happened to them!”

Dan Heng quirked a brow. That was more than enough for her to continue.

“Jiaoqiu was kidnapped that night.”

Dan Heng nearly dropped the oyster shell in his hands. “What?”

Stelle nodded. “So, apparently, that night was a whole premeditated attack on the High Cloud Quintet. They were planning to kill everyone, except Uncle Jing Yuan and Aunt Jingliu escaped. Feixiao hadn’t been there at the time because she’d offered to pick up food while she took some business calls, so Jiaoqiu and Moze were really the only ones unlucky enough to be trapped by borison members. Jiaoqiu forced Moze to climb out a window, but Jiaoqiu was kidnapped before he could follow. They held him for six months or so while they negotiated a hostage exchange: Jiaoqiu in exchange for a gang leader. And yeah,” Stelle said, amused at how the bewildered look on Dan Heng’s face grew more extreme as the story went on. “I know they were insane.

“Anyway, they didn’t end up getting any exchange because Feixiao’s team finally found where they were keeping Jiaoqiu. Apparently, it was a huge gunfight. Feixiao took out the leader of the Borisons—I think his name was Hoolay? So that was something. But when they rescued Jiaoqiu, he was in bad shape. Like, bad. Took him a year to recover, but he never recovered his sight. He’s fully blind.

“Because of the extent of Jiaoqiu’s injuries, Feixiao was taken off the Borison hunt permanently because her agency insisted this made things too personal and they didn’t need her acting recklessly out of revenge. Basically a forced retirement. She took a few years off to tend to Jiaoqiu while she searched for another job… and they had a baby in the middle of that.”

Stelle didn’t need to go into the details she overheard Feixiao explain to her mom. Of how Feixiao was terrified of the way her husband had withdrawn from the world and become borderline suicidal due to his perceived uselessness. Add in Feixiao’s own restlessness courtesy of her lack of work, and of course someone was going to make a poor decision; such as a reckless Feixiao purposefully sabotaging her birth control and getting pregnant to fill the purposeless void both her and her husband had in their life. As Feixiao told Mom, she had not thought that through, especially considering the stress a baby put on everyone. At least it had all worked out in the end, bringing the family back together stronger than ever.

Speaking of which, Stelle was going to have to go shopping for a birthday present for the almost-ten-year-old later.

For a while, Dan Heng was speechless. “Mr. Jiaoqiu… blind?”

Stelle gave a sad nod. “It was an adjustment. Moze said it took a toll on him even though he was trying to hold it together. You can’t tell it affects him much now. He’s got a pretty dark sense of humor about it. And scarily, he can still move around in a kitchen like he’s perfectly able-bodied.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Stelle just nodded, letting the conversation lapse for a moment. “Whose turn is it to ask a question now?”

“I… don’t know. And… what constitutes as a question? That would determine what number we’re on.”

Stelle chuckled awkwardly. Here she’d been worried about keeping the conversation going, but her ‘twenty questions’ plan was already showing its flaws. She started counting off her fingers. “Um… we had what happened. We had siblings. Then I asked about your niece… and I volunteered the rest of the family.”

“I’ll take that as a question,” Dan Heng said. “I wanted to ask about them anyway.”

“Then, I guess it’s my turn.”

They exchanged a couple more questions, like how they ended up in their career, before their food appeared.

“Okay,” Stelle said, picking up her fork. “Next question has to be something stupid.”

His brow furrowed, his eye twitching just like it used to whenever she would take a wild left turn he didn’t quite understand yet was going to follow anyway. “Why?”

“Because we should liven things up for a moment.”

Dan Heng sighed, a hint of a smile ghosting his lips as he reached for his food. “I should have expected something like this from you.”

Her own smile brightened for a reason she couldn’t quite articulate. “Why the motorbike? I didn’t peg you as a motorbike kind of guy, but maybe I just wasn’t seeing the vision.”

His smile fell, as did his gaze. “That’s… actually not an amusing answer.”

Guilt opened a hole in her gut.

“I learned how to ride a bike because of… that car wreck. While bikes have the danger of being less visible to other drivers, they are also more maneuverable than cars. For example, if there was ever a time a car was trying to trap me in a parking lot again, I would have an easier chance of escape on a bike. I weighed the pros and cons before going that direction, though.”

Stelle felt sick to her stomach. Suddenly, the plate of food didn’t seem quite as appetizing as before. Here she was, trying to lighten the mood, only to destroy it instead. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I… I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Dan Heng said. “I’m not offended.”

But she was. At herself, for him.

“I guess it’s up to you to lighten the mood with your, then,” she said. “After I go and shove my foot in my mouth.”

“You did no such thing,” he assured with a smile. One he meant because she saw the way it reached his eyes.

That put her at ease. A little. Enough to take a bite of food, at least.

“Then… your tattoo,” he started.

And her gut plummeted.

“What made you want to get it?”

She had to set her fork down. If she took another bite, she just might throw it up, and that would be frowned upon. Rubbing at her partly covered tattoo, she took a deep breath. “I got it to cover my port scar.”

“Your… port scar?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “From when I had cancer.”

~~ 

Dan Heng’s world disappeared. He knew he’d heard her correctly, but his heart doubted he did. Words failed him, no matter how many times he opened his mouth. Finally, the only one that he managed to get out was weak, quiet, and begging for denial. “Cancer?”

The bitterness in her smile was confirmation enough. “Yeah.”

Dinner no longer held any appeal. He set down his fork. “When?”

“Senior year,” she answered. “I barely finished high school before I got too sick to even leave the house. Almost flunked out of the mandatory classes. Didn’t get to walk graduation. Then it goes without saying: no senior prom with my friends, no attending Caelus’ baseball games. Hell, I was a scout prospect for softball and that went flying down the drain.” Her lips wavered, and the corners of her eyes turned red.

How was it possible for his heart to race so fast when it was this broken? “Stelle…” he finally breathed out. “I… I’m so sorry.”

She shrugged. “What are you gonna do? At least I made it out. I should be thankful.”

But she wasn’t. He may not know this new Stelle—no, this Gray who sat before him, but he could see the anger and resentment written all over her face. Reaching over their food, he laid a hand over her hand, just as she had done to him earlier. “I wish I could have been there for you.”

For a long moment, she looked down at their stacked hands. When her gaze lifted to his again, the bitterness had drained out, leaving only pain. “I wasn’t exactly a pretty sight. Pale, gaunt, no hair. Radioactive. You know, the works.”

“What does that matter?” He tightened his grip on her as her words sank in. At least I made it out. He could have lost her and not even known. That realization made him want to throw up. “I would have been there for you if I could have. Not that I could have done anything… but I would have been there.”

“I know you would have,” she quietly admitted. “That’s why… I got the Draco tattoo. Because you promised me Draco would have saved Andromeda if she was going to get eaten by the sea monster…” She scoffed. “Sorry, that sounds so pathetic—”

“It’s not.”

She startled.

“It’s not,” he repeated, his voice taking on a gentler tone.

Gradually, she relaxed, her expression softening and rigid posture easing. “Um… I guess it’s my turn?” Stelle asked, forcibly changing the subject.

Dan Heng pulled his hand back, even though he didn’t really want to. “R-right. Ask away.”

It took about four questions for the stuffy awkwardness to pass, but that bitter undercurrent lingered for the remainder of the evening. I could have lost her forever and not even known. What he wouldn’t have given to be at her side through all that, lost hair and radioactive and everything.

Eventually, the plates before them were empty, yet they still had five questions each. The waiter came to take away their plates and offer dessert. While Dan Heng was not always a fan, he wondered if Stelle still was. It was a tempting prospect to at least peruse the menu, as it would give them reason to linger. He wasn’t ready for the night to end.

He might not even be ready after those five questions.

Meanwhile, Stelle hesitated over whether to take the menu, glancing at Dan Heng for direction.

“We could split one?” Dan Heng offered, noting her questioning glances. “Or… is that too much?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

At which point, the waiter left them the menu.

While Dan Heng had warned himself all day against thinking of today as a date, it certainly felt like it. The restaurant had a cozy ambiance, further lending itself to the intimate atmosphere between them. It didn’t help that Boothill had outed him at work today, leading to a barrage of questions from Robin in particular. Not a soul had believed this wasn’t a date. Robin might have been the worst, the way she insisted on helping him pick an outfit for the evening. In the end, she insisted that “biker chic was in”, hence his current appearance.

But he never could have counted on Stelle’s appearance taking his breath away when he’d first laid eyes on her. Since then, there was a part of him hoping this could be a date. Not the little outings they used to take when they were first dating. A real one.

Though the questions thus far had proven time had done a number on both of them, there were still so many little moments he saw his Stelle shine through. Each time, it drew him in deeper. He’d be trapped if he wasn’t careful.

But then again… was that a bad thing?

“Did… you have something in mind?” She asked him. “I know you used to not be the biggest dessert fan.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m against them.”

“But still not one for sweets.”

“Not usually.”

She pushed the menu toward him. “How about this: you decide what sounds good to you, and I’ll make the final choice?”

A fair proposition. He took the menu, glancing it over. “The lemon cheesecake?”

Her lips pursed. “I’ll have to confirm what’s in the crust, but that does sound good.”

“It says it’s a graham cracker crust.”

“No, I know,” Stelle said. “But… after treatment, I kinda developed some weird sensitivities.”

At the mention of her cancer treatment, his gut sank again. “Like?”

“Soy became a huge no-no,” she said. “And pork now tastes like metal. There are a few other things that, like, still upset my stomach or whatnot, or things I couldn’t eat during cancer treatment and now my body flat out rejects it. But other than that, I’m semi-back to normal. Firefly has it way worse than me with her laundry list of no-touchie foods, ranging from an unpleasant bathroom visit to hospital stays. Again, I should be thankful.”

But that doesn’t mean you are, he mentally finished, picking up the sorrow in her tone. And he didn’t blame her one bit for it.

When the waiter returned, Stelle asked him about the contents of the cheesecake, and when he confirmed she could eat it, they ordered a slice with two plates. That distraction allowed them just enough time to finish this game.

“Last question,” Stelle said, setting aside her empty plate.

Stacking his empty plate on top hers at the edge of the table, he tried to temper his disappointment that the end of their night was near. “Alright.”

When he turned back to face her, she fidgeted in her seat before asking. “Are you… seeing anyone?”

Surprised, he shook his head. “No.”

“O-oh.” More fidgeting, but… was it just him, or did her smile brighten? “That’s… that’s good. Because that means I don’t have a jealous girlfriend who would think this was a date.”

“No,” he confirmed, more firmly this time. His face grew hot, and he cleared his throat. “There hasn’t been a girlfriend since… since you.”

The tension that sprang between them was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Or a waiter bringing the cheque.

“Oh,” Stelle said. “I’m so sorry, but could we have separate—”

“It’s fine.” Dan Heng handed the waiter his card. He didn’t even look at the total. Didn’t need to. Whatever the amount was, he’d bite the bullet. It was worth every penny if he got to spend it with Stelle.

She reached for her purse. “Let me at least pay for half.”

“No need.” Dan Heng insisted. “My treat tonight.”

She didn’t let go of her purse, but she did pause. “Are you sure?”

He nodded.

Shyly glancing away, Stelle set her purse down. “Thank you. You really know how to make a girl feel special. I’m shocked no one else has gotten the pleasure.”

Because there was no one who caught his eye after everything that had happened. And the one who had caught his attention again… was Stelle. Some things didn’t need to be said. Some things also did not need to be examined any deeper than surface level. He’d best remind himself of that. It might save him some heartache.

It was his turn to ask the final question. While he’d had one in mind, it went out the window. “I remember there was that one patron, the one Madam Pearl met with, who made a remark about you being an ex?”

“Oh. Him. Yeah, he is. Technically.”

“So… does that mean you’re single now, or did you move on from him with someone new?” He should not be so anxious over her answer. As she’d said, it wasn’t like this was a date, even though it felt very much like one.

Even though he really wouldn’t mind if it became one.

“I feel like that’s two questions cleverly disguised as one.”

“Then you can ask one more.”

Her smile widened, a teasing glimmer in her eye. He’d played into her hand, yet he didn’t mind in the slightest. “Yes. Actually, yes to both. I dated other people after Kakavasha, but no one really made it out of the talking stage. There’s really no one at the moment.”

The breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding eased out of his burning lungs, and the knot in his stomach relaxed. He wasn’t going to question why that answer brought him such relief.  

When the waiter returned, Dan Heng realized it really was time to leave. Their twenty questions were up, he had his card back in hand, and they, quite frankly, had taken up this table for too long.

After signing the receipt and taking his copy, he realized Stelle was on her phone. Not wishing to interrupt, he allowed her to finish the text.

“So I have my twenty-first question,” she said. “Would you… want to see Mom and Dad again?”

~~

While Stelle had offered to drive Dan Heng to her house, he’d chosen to follow her on his bike instead. It was already late, so he didn’t want her to have to drive him back to the restaurant. Besides, being out of Stelle’s immediate presence gave him time to get his head on straight.

Uncle Yingxing and Aunt Kafka… finally, he’d meet them again after thirteen years. What would they say? What would they think? Had they changed, too? Stelle had said that Uncle Yingxing now went by Blade while Aunt Kafka had so many names no one could keep track. Everyone important still called her Kafka. Apparently, they’d come home early after a long trip away and were asking about a background check they saw on the table. That’s when she’d confessed that her adopted sister, Silverwolf, had run a background check on him. She’d then profusely apologized for some reason. Dan Heng wasn’t offended, especially when it sounded like her sister did it out of concern.

Either way, since Stelle hadn’t wanted to break the news over a text, she’d simply said she was out on a date, and they’d talk about it when she returned home. She’d failed to mention to them just who her date was, or that she’d be bringing him along.

All the time he’d spent trying to calm himself was for naught. The moment they pulled up to her house, a nice house in the suburbs, his gut tied itself into an impossible knot. He parked his bike in the driveway next to Stelle’s car.

“Ready?” she asked once he killed the motor.

He slipped out of his helmet. Hopefully, he still looked presentable. “Yeah. Let’s hope they take this well.”

“I think they’ll be as excited as I was.”

“I hope so.”

“And we can clarify to them it wasn’t a date if it makes you feel any better,” she continued. “I just… wanted to surprise them.”

That was not the least bit of his concern. And it definitely was not concerning how his heart deflated at the second denial of their time together being a date. “Whatever makes you feel most comfortable.”

They walked toward the front door, Stelle nervously playing with her car keys. Once she unlocked it, she turned back to him. With only some hesitation, she took hold of his hand.

Her golden eyes flicked upwards to meet his own, a quiet question lingering in them. Is this okay?

It was more than okay. He said as much by giving her hand a squeeze.

A shaky smile wavered on her lips. Tossing open the door, Stelle pulled him inside. After kicking off their shoes, Stelle led him deeper into the house. “Mom?” she called out. “Dad?”

“We’re here.” A woman’s voice. Aunt Kafka. Dan Heng’s chest tightened in anticipation. “How was your date?”

“Um… about that…”

“You brought him home?” The warning voice of Uncle Yingxing—er, Uncle Blade?—resounded. “Dare I ask—”

Uncle Yingxing didn’t finish, because that was when Dan Heng and Stelle rounded the corner.

Dan Heng felt rooted to the floor. Before him stood his aunt and uncle. A little older, a little more haggard, a little more gray in Uncle’s hair, but still perfectly recognizable.

And considering their wide eyes, he must be recognizable, too.

“Mom, Dad…” Stelle took a shaky breath. “I found him.”

“Uncle Yingxing,” he greeted, his own voice warbling with a swell of emotion. “Aunt Kafka… H-hello.”

It might be late spring, but with the way time froze like ice, one might have thought winter still lingered. The only thing that moved was Uncle Yingxing’s expression, dark clouds rolling over the surprise that had been there. Suddenly, he rounded the table as he stormed closer. “What the hell,” he growled, each step thundering through the house. “Just where in the hell have you been?!”

“Dad!”

“Sweetheart.”

Both Stelle and Aunt Kafka moved, but neither were fast enough to stop Uncle Yingxing from grabbing Dan Heng by the shirt collar and shoving him back two steps. “Do you have any idea how long we’ve spent searching for you?” he shouted.

“Dad!” Stelle cried again, trying to force her way between her dad and Dan Heng. “Knock it off!”

“Bladie.” Even Kafka had a hand on his arm, trying to get him to let go the same way an owner tries to get their dog to drop a toy.

Even though his heart pounded, his body intuitively preparing to take a punch, Dan Heng didn’t look away. “I’m sorry,” he simply returned.

Several rapid heartbeats pounded by before Uncle Yingxing finally released Dan Heng’s shirt

And yanked him into a crushing hug.

Dan Heng had no choice but to return it.

“I’m so glad to see you in one piece,” Uncle Yingxing calmly said.

“Yeah,” Dan Heng said, “It’s… it’s really good to see you, too.”

Pulling away, Uncle Yingxing held Dan Heng out at arm’s length. “You look… just like your father.”

There were numerous moments that had made him emotional this evening, but now… with one comment, Uncle Yingxing had taken a blade straight to the deepest crack in his heart. Dan Heng bit his lip before it wavered.

“You do,” Aunt Kafka said, stroking his hair in a way she hadn’t done since he was a little child. “No wonder Stelle knew right away.”

His eyes burned. He didn’t want to cry, but he feared he just might.

Beside him, Stelle slipped her hand into his again, then snuggled closer until their shoulders pressed together. Tears did slip out at that point. He clung to her hand, stealing any strength from her she could spare. He’d found his family again. Maybe it was okay to be more than a little emotional for now.

After tears were shed—and he was not the only one—he’d agreed to stay a little while and answer all their questions of what had happened during that night and a few more about how he’d been. It was midnight by the time Aunt Kafka suggested they let him go home. Part of him didn’t want to leave, but he knew he had to.

“When are you free next?” Aunt Kafka asked. “Caelus would love to see you.”

“I’m off Tuesday,” he answered.

“Tuesday?” Stelle repeated.

“Yeah. Is that not a good time?”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s more…” A conspiratorial sparkle lit her eye. “How much do you like baseball?”

[thenovelartist]

By Any Other Name - Chapter 6

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Dan Heng didn’t think he would find himself back at Wildfire this quickly. It had been just over a month since the last time, except he wasn’t here with Robin. Ashveil had called both him and Rappa to ask for this favor. “Not that I’m incapable,” he’d explained. “But Pearl will be meeting with some big wigs, and she wants a bit more of a presence.”

Dan Heng didn’t want to examine why he’d so quickly leapt at the chance. He didn’t want to admit it had anything to do with the woman currently twirling a bottle behind the bar. The idea of talking to her did pop into his head, one he quickly squashed. If he wanted that chance, he was going to have to come back on his own time.

“Pearl.” A woman in a deep violet suit that was beaded to the point of impracticality floated down onto the barstool. Behind her, a blonde man and a woman with red streaks in her hair took seats as well. “How lovely to see you again.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Pearl greeted, her tone even. “I have reserved the lounge upstairs.”

“Then let’s get drinks to take up,” the woman purred. “I’ve heard only good things about the performance these bartenders can put on.” She then waved toward the bartender Raccoon had called Butterfly.

“Oh, no, Madam Jade,” the man behind her said. “She’s good, but…” He then waved to a different bartender. “Gray!”

Dan Heng glanced behind him, watching as Raccoon slid over. “You know, Kakavasha, a girl’s gotta keep up a persona.”

Gray? Dan Heng mentally filed that tidbit of information away. It was a name that suited her, considering her gray hair, but if he was being honest, he strangely thought “Raccoon” suited her better.

“Oh, my deepest apologies,” he sarcastically drawled. “Raccoon. There, is that better?”

“Much.” Her smile brightened, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Want your regular?”

“You know me so well.”

Raccoon let out a deep sigh as she twisted a bottle between her fingers. “Regrettably.”

A cold pang echoed through Dan Heng’s gut. Did these two know each other? Kakavasha’s flirting felt a little too intimate to be casual, and Raccoon’s responses were a little too pointed compared to her standard cheery facade.

Dan Heng didn’t like it, and he didn’t like that he didn’t like it.

One by one, Raccoon made each of the three newcomers a drink, pulling out her best tricks. Dan Heng was far more enamored than he ought to be by her performance. Was it because she shone like a flickering star against a night sky? Or was it something more…

Aeons, what was wrong with him? After losing Stelle, there’d never been another girl who’d caught his eye. Both March and Boothill had, at one point or another, tried to question him for what his ideal type of woman was, but Dan Heng himself didn’t even know. With Stelle, the only thing he could recall that made her “his type” was the comfort of her company. Yes, he’d found her cute and amusing, but those were just things that made her her. He didn’t think those attributes were what attracted him to her.

Now, all thanks to the bartender before him, he was questioning just what he was attracted to.

Raccoon must have caught him staring, because she shot him a flirty wink.

He wasn’t sure what was more uncomfortable: the way his heart fluttered, or learning a simple gesture was all it took to make that happen.

Drinks now in hand, Kakavasha flicked a black card in Raccoon’s direction. “Start a tab. I plan to enjoy the night, darling.”

She rolled her eyes, taking the card from him. “I’m happy to serve you, dear. But you aren’t exactly a heavyweight.”

Madam Jade chuckled. “She certainly has you pegged.”

Kakavasha released a theatrical sigh, along with an equally dramatic shrug of his shoulders. “The trouble of ex-girlfriends.”

The woman with red streaks in her hair—Dan Heng hadn’t caught her name—smacked him on the shoulder. “Jerk.”

“Fear not, my beautiful Jelena,” Kakavasha began. Dan Heng didn’t catch the rest because Kakavasha whispered something into her ear.

It must have been something scandalous because when she stormed off in a huff, not even the dim lights could cover the blush on her cheeks. “I hate you,” she muttered.

“I assure you,” Kakavasha said, taking his card from the bar and following the woman. “I hate you more.”

Madam Jade’s laugh was so bell-like it almost sounded fake. “Ah, the joy of youth and the delirium of infatuation. Quite a fanciful mix, don’t you think?”

“I cannot say one way or another,” Pearl answered dispassionately.

Madam Jade’s eyes turned sharp as she looked toward Ashveil. “How cutting. Does age ruin the shine of love? Or one does wonder if it was ever there to begin with.”

“Correction: I do not understand what about youth makes a relationship superior to one discovered slightly later than what is deemed average.”

“Reckless abandon and unbeknownst ignorance do cast such emotions in a more whimsical light, no? Time wearies a person to such fanciful delights.”

“Marriage does not have to be fanciful to be satisfactory.”

“I suppose not, but how droll.”

“Life provides enough chaos to contend with. A relationship should provide a reprieve from it.”

With a dismissive hum, Madam Jade stood from her seat. “This is why I respect you: everything can be a business arrangement at its core. Just be sure all parties in the agreement understand that.” And then with one last glance toward Ashveil, she strutted away toward the lounge.

Pearl let out a sigh. “How regrettable it is too early to leave.”

“We agreed two hours,” Ashveil said, helpfully extending her a hand to assist her from her seat. “And then we’ll call it a night.”

Pearl took his assistance, then curled her arm around his elbow while making her way up to the lounge at a much slower pace. Even over all the noise, Dan Heng happened to overhear her say, “Don’t take anything to heart.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ashveil lightly returned. “For I find our marriage plenty fanciful.”

“How so?”

“I get to watch you paint, for example.”

“My painting is… fanciful?”

“Quiet moments like that? Absolutely.”

“That is rather… dull.”

“I disagree. Time cannot dull what you chose to be grateful for in the first place, regardless of age, history, or a myriad of other factors.”

They had made it up the stairs before Madam Pearl could respond. Dan Heng watched their postures straighten, their soft intimacy hardening to an imposing wall. Dan Heng rarely grew jealous of married couples. His heart must be particularly fragile lately, for he yearned to know just what it was like to walk alongside someone the way they did: sharing stolen moments in the midst of everything they faced together.

His job tonight was both simple and completely uneventful. At most, he observed the way Madam Pearl slowly tired of the conversation, Ashveil being the one to remind her to stay engaged. Finally, she insisted that she had much that needed her attention come morning and should take her leave.

“Finish your drink, first,” Madam Jade said, waving in a motion to keep her seated. “I do want to ask one last thing…”

Ashveil took three steps to the side, beckoning Dan Heng close. “Daniel, do you mind going to close out Pearl’s tab?”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. And tip the bartender well.”

“Understood.”

Hence, Dan Heng left the lounge and headed to the bar.

As he glanced around for Raccoon, a smooth voice happened to reach his ears.

“I promise ya, pal, you’ll find what you’re after here.”

One glance off to the side, and Dan Heng spotted the bright red vest of a certain “ambassador” that stood out even in the flashy crowd.

“Buuuuuut! I do gotta warn you…” The man—what was his name? Sam? Sampo; that’s right—continued in a much quieter tone. “Information on the Cold-Hearted Killer goes fast, and it isn’t exactly cheap.”

Against his better judgement (and his boss’s gut feeling), Dan Heng stood still at the bar to listen. The Cold-Hearted Killer. That’s what they were calling this woman who had committed the two recent massacres of the Sanctus Medicus members. Boothill, Rappa, and Dan Heng had done their best to search out all information they could about this woman on social media, but it was sparse at best. However, there was one image circulating the web of this woman. A woman who looked too much like Aunt Jingliu for Dan Heng to let go.

“What’s the price?” the man Sampo was talking to asked.

“Price? It’s not monetary, my friend. It’s won. The Bouldertown Fight Club doesn’t do paid.”

Dan Heng needed to walk away. His feet needed to move. Information broker at an underground fight club was exactly the kind of sketchy aura this man was giving off. No wonder Ashveil clocked him from a mile away.

Dan Heng glanced down the bar, where Raccoon was serving some other customers. She happened to glance over, her eyes locking on him, only to shoot him a polite smile paired with a ‘just a moment’ gesture.

Meaning Dan Heng would have to wait within earshot of Sampo and—

Nope, just Sampo. The man he’d been talking to had scurried off.

… Aeons above, this was about to be the stupidest thing Dan Heng was ever going to do.

“Hey.” Dan Heng leaned in close. “What do you mean you have information on the Cold-Hearted Killer?”

“Interested?” Sampo asked, leaning in close like he’d found his next victim to sell his snake oil to. “You look like a man who could take a beating, but do you have the skills to back it up?”

“Say I do. But the information you have, it’s not just info that could be found online?”

Offended, Sampo blustered. “My dear friend! I’d never advertise such a low-quality product. The information I have comes from someone with ties to the investigation team.”

“And you’ve verified it?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”

There were a lot of reasons Dan Heng could think to give, but he held his tongue. “The information you have… what does it consist of?”

“You think I’d give that information out for free?”

“I need to know what I’d be fighting for.”

“Fair enough,” Sampo conceded. “How about the killer’s name and where they’re currently being kept?”

That was exactly the information Dan Heng needed. If he could just confirm it was Aunt Jingliu, that would be the greatest lead he’d ever gotten on his family. Maybe he could fish some more info from there, or at least know where to look. “Where do I get this information?”

Sampo’s grin widened. “Before I give you such important details, I need to ask what kind of information you have to put up on the table. Or are you putting up cash or prizes for a loss?”

Information. Of course he’d have to offer something of equal value. But what could he—

“The High Cloud Quintet,” he blurted. Like an idiot. Like a stupid, stupid idiot. “Ring a bell?”

Sampo’s eyes widened. “The elusive crew that took down the leaders of Sanctus Medicus years ago? That is priceless info. What do you know?”

“Sampo!”

Dan Heng jumped just as high as Sampo did at the feminine voice that echoed across the club.

Raccoon slapped her hand on the bar. “No corrupting my customers.”

“I-I was doing no such thing!” he insisted.

“Yeah, right. Get out of here before I kick you out.”

“But Luka let me in.”

“I’ll get Gepard.”

“He doesn’t even work here.”

“But he’s here.”

Sampo blanched. With a tense smile, he quickly turned to Dan Heng and bowed. “You heard the lady; it’s time for Ole Sampo to take his leave.”

Dan Heng nodded, but his heart dropped in disappointment. Maybe this was for the best. That Sampo walk away before Dan Heng found himself neck deep in trou—

As Sampo walked by, he bumped into Dan Heng’s shoulder, slipping a card into his hand. “See you Wednesday night.”

Dan Heng’s grip was so tight it probably crushed the card as Sampo dipped away through the crowd.

“Ugh,” Raccoon sneered. “Listen: I don’t know what he told you, but I’m sorry that he’s a bother.”

“It’s fine,” he assured. “I’m here to close out Pearl’s tab.”

“Perfect.”

While she slid away toward the register, Dan Heng took a glance at the little card in his hand, one decorated with a black boxing glove, before sliding it into his pocket.

~~

The frontal lobe of the brain was considered fully developed at age twenty-five. Seeing as he was twenty-six, Dan Heng definitely should have been making wiser decisions than this. Yet, as he stared at the card, the location marked in black ink, his mind whirled to put together a plan.

“Boothill, can we talk?”

Boothill paused, looking over his shoulder at this roommate with a scrutinizing gaze. “Buddy,” he started, folding the dish towel and hanging it over the oven handle. “You look like I’m gonna need a drink.”

“Probably,” Dan Heng confessed. “But not until after I finish. We both need to be sober so you can tell me I’m an idiot.”

Letting out a rush of breath, Boothill rounded the kitchen counter. “Ain’t nothing scarier than you thinkin’ you’re the idiot between us. What’d you do?”

Dan Heng glanced around, looking for any other pair of ears—specifically, a little pair of ears—that could be listening in. “I… might have heard of a way to find out info on that Cold-Hearted Killer.”

The corners of Boothill’s lips twitched downwards. “I don’t like where this is going.”

Dan Heng then slipped the card out of his pocket and slid it across the counter.

Boothill took one look at it and rubbed his jaw. “You can’t be serious.”

“Win, and the prize is knowing the woman’s name.”

“Daniel.” Boothill gave him a hard glare. “You can’t.”

“I have to.” The words held a conviction that scared him.

Over the next minute, the only sound in the kitchen was the hum of the refrigerator. Finally, Boothill broke the silence with a growl, slapping the kitchen counter as he gave Dan Heng a hard glare. “Listen, partner, I know we both want info on this lady. In my younger days, I’d have jumped at the chance. But I…” With a heavy sigh, he hung his head, the anger sapped out of him. “I’m a dad. I can’t leave Clementine to go runnin’ off on a wild goose chase. Especially one that reeks of potential trouble.”

“I know.” Dan Heng assured. “My purpose of telling you was to let you know where I’d be.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t want you going alone to a place like this. No way you’re convincin’ the boss, and I won’t let you drag Rappa into that. She’s still too fresh-faced.”

“On that, we agree.”

Agitatedly patting the counter, Boothill let out a long grunt. “Give me time to think about it.”

Dan Heng frowned. “Should I not have told you?”

“No, you shouldn’t have. Because for you to even entertain this idea means you’re deep enough in the water to go swimming. This ain’t a ‘talk you out of it’. It’s a courtesy warning.”

Dan Heng glanced away. He was reluctant to admit how accurate Boothill’s assessment was.

“You forcing me to be the bigger person in the face of temptation really does make you an idiot.” Boothill ran a hand down his face. “Where’s that drink I knew I’d need. Because you think I need to be sober? Buddy, I ain’t tipsy enough for this bullshit.”

~~

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“Damn right, I shouldn’t have,” Boothill spat. “But I can’t let you go alone.”

They’d already discussed this at length last night. Boothill would come, but only as back-up for Dan Heng so he didn’t immediately end up jumped or the like. Boothill wasn’t going to participate in any fighting, he wasn’t going to be giving up any information, and if worse came to worse, then Boothill was to run without Dan Heng. At the end of the day, Boothill needed to be back home with Clementine come morning.

But for now, Boothill parked his truck two blocks down in a parking lot behind a busy bar. The duo then the two headed toward the location in question.

“So, where exactly is it?” Boothill questioned once they reached the barely-lit back alley, one Dan Heng had spent the last week scoping out.

“It has to be down one of these stairways,” Dan Heng muttered.

“Right you are, my friend!”

At that voice, Dan Heng and Boothill turned to see Sampo standing there.

“How wonderful it is that you could make it!” Sampo greeted, sauntering up to them. “I’m assuming you’re here for that… information?”

Dan Heng straightened. “I am. How do we enter?”

“Right this way! There’s a little detour we need to take. After all, I need to… assess what you bring to the table. This dealer is very particular in what he’s looking for. You’ll have to front the right price.”

Dan Heng and Boothill shared a wary look before following Sampo up to a doorway. They tailed him inside into a dingy sitting room.

“Now,” Sampo turned toward them. The single hanging light cast harsh shadows across the room, coating everything in a sickly yellow pallor. “The High Cloud Quintet, you said? What exactly do you know about them?”

Dan Heng had thought long and hard about what he was willing to part with. But even then, he still wanted to play his cards close to his chest. “What do you want to know?”

Sampo guffawed. “Bold words! With all this commotion about Sanctus Medicus coming to light, there’s quite a market of people who want to know about the group who put the leaders away in the first place. Most info turns up dry or is a dud to begin with. So, I’ll ask, what do you know?”

That two of the members were his parents. That the other three were his uncles and aunts. That they’d adopted kids, had kids of their own, and then built an almost perfect life for those kids to grow up in. But that info wasn’t going to get him what he was looking for. “I know how two of the members died.”

Sampo raised a brow. “Died?”

Dan Heng nodded. “Two of the five are dead. I know what happened to both.”

“I’ve heard rumors of one,” Sampo returned, thoughtfully tapping a finger to his chin. “But engine failure on a plane isn’t exactly going to whet anyone’s appetite.”

“Sabotage would. As would the execution of another.”

Sampo’s eyes narrowed. But Boothill’s did, too. One of those gazes hurt a lot more than the other.

“Really?” Sampo prodded. “How would you know that?”

“I have my resources.”

“Do you know who did it?”

“I do.”

Chin tipped up, Sampo assessed Dan Heng. Finally, a smile spread across his lips. “How interesting. Can you verify the source? I’ve already gotten into… well, we’ll call it a little tiff over some unverified information.”

Dan Heng pursed his lips.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a broken faucet. Nothing leaks for free with me.”

He knew. Sampo might be slimy, but he was a businessman. There wouldn’t be anything leaving those lips that wasn’t exchanged for a price. “The Dovebrook Massacre, thirteen years ago. I… I’m a personal witness.”

“A personal witness?”

Dan Heng nodded.

Sampo rubbed his chin. “Normally, I don’t let people go on such flimsy validity, but you don’t seem like the kind of customer who’d come to a place like this in the first place. Whatever you have must have enough truth to it to be worth something.”

Sampo walked to a door behind him. “Which is why, juuuuust this once…” He threw open the door, only for the loud sound of shouts to echo in the room. “I’ll let it slide. Welcome to the club.”

Hesitantly, Dan Heng stepped forward, following Sampo down into what could only be described as a pit. In the center, lit in that same noxious yellow glow, was a caged-in boxing ring, elevated so the roaring crowd could see clearly. Inside that cage, two people were exchanging blows. It all came to an end when one finally pinned the other.

The crowd went wild. Dan Heng thought he saw money exchange hands.

“You up for the ring?” Sampo questioned.

“I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t.”

“That’s the spirit! Now, since this is your first time here, I’ll give you a little… complimentary service. I’ll go see if your match is willing to bite. In the meantime, you can’t go out into the ring without an alias. Think of one fast, okay?” And then Sampo disappeared into the crowd.

Boothill gave Dan Heng an elbow to the ribs. Maybe a little too firm an elbow. “You know about the members of the High Cloud?”

Dan Heng was happy they were standing at the back of the crowd for now. “I promise to explain everything later. You have my word.”

“Fine. This ain’t exactly the place to talk,” Boothill conceded.

Two matches went by, the rowdy crowd pulsing with excitement and rage as their chosen candidates won or lost, before Sampo returned. “Hey-o! You, good buddy, got some serious biters!”

Dan Heng quirked a brow. “I’m only here for the one piece.”

“That’s the thing,” Sampo said with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “Your match wants to see you in the ring before he makes any deals. You’re a new face on the block, and he doesn’t take a fight he can’t assess first.”

Dan Heng quirked a brow. “Do I get the same curtsy?”

“You will, but not because you asked. Crow is a… how do you say, valued client of the ring. He can make demands like that. However, he’s also got more matches than just you. You’ll be able to see him. So if I were you, I’d take the deal.”

His eyes narrowed at this scuzzy man. He didn’t like what he was being pulled into, but at the same time, he didn’t have a choice. “So be it. What are the options?”

“And it best be worth his while,” Boothill chimed up from behind. “What he’s got, it ain’t chump change.”

At that, Dan Heng knew he owed Boothill more than he could possibly give. Not only for coming with him, but for standing behind him, even when he knew nothing. He was a friend as good as a brother.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to give you all the options,” Sampo assured. “But before that, you think up an alias yet? I could make one for you. Brooding Beast. The Frosty Terror. Oh? The Black Dragon. What’ll it be?”

Dragon, huh? Dan Heng let out a huff. Well, as long as he was living in the past, he supposed there was one alias he didn’t mind throwing out there.

~~~

Stelle was watching from the sidelines as Moze threw another guy across the ring. While Stelle was perfectly capable of fighting her own battles, she had her limits. Moze seemingly had none. He also had his pick of fighters to choose from, seeing as he was the one holding the prime info tonight.

“Hey, hey! If it isn’t Galactic Baseballer.”

Stelle looked off to the side to see Sampo sauntering up to her. He glanced up at the ring, watching as Moze ‘helpfully’ picked his defeated opponent up by the collar and dragged him out of the ring. “He’s making a killing tonight. Good bets all around. Be sure to tell him the opponent in question is up after this next round, yeah?”

“The one who knows about the High Cloud Quintet’s killer?” Even with all her informational channels, neither of Stelle’s parents had ever found out who exactly killed Dan Feng and Baiheng. Of course, they knew it was someone with ties to Sanctus Medicus, but information on what exactly happened that night was hard to come by. When Sampo had first come to them with the bid, Stelle was about to jump on the chance to fight this guy herself. And she would have it if Moze hadn’t stepped in to cool her head.

“That’s the one! Goes by the alias of ‘Cold Dragon Young’, and boy, he isn’t a pushover. That fight is going to be one for the ages!”

Stelle felt as though she’d been slapped. “Cold Dragon Young?”

“Yup!” Sampo said, popping the P. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more matches to line up.”

How long was Stelle standing there in a daze before Moze returned? She couldn’t be sure. That name, that stupid old nickname… why did it have to come back to haunt her tonight?

Finally, the snap of gloved fingers right in front of her yanked her back to reality. “Oh, you’re back. Anything good?”

Moze shook his head.

“Well, Sampo just dropped by. Apparently, the guy in question is up next.”

“Alias?”

Stelle’s mouth went dry. “Cold Dragon Young.”

Moze simply nodded as he turned to the arena. Of course he wouldn’t be affected by it. He’d not been as close to Dan Heng as she’d been. It wasn’t like he didn’t know the name, but it wasn’t burned into the forefront of his mind like it was to Stelle.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” the loud voice of Dr. Dig hollered. “We have our next match!”

Stelle watched as a beefy opponent stepped into the ring. Him, she’d seen before. Heck, she’d fought him before. Strong, sure, but that was all. She could fall him with little effort.

But the other man who stepped into the ring… he wasn’t a new face. The man at the bar, the one she’d been obsessing over for weeks. The one who’d graced her presence again just last week, as well.

Time slowed to a crawl, yet her heart pounded erratically in her chest. Rarely had she been so engrossed in a fight, but with all her heart, she found herself cheering for this man. For the one that looked like—

Cold Dragon Young dropped the beefy opponent with ease, and the crowd roared. Dr. Dig entered the ring, raising Cold Dragon Young’s hand. In doing so, he lifted his head, allowing Stelle to see a clear view of… of…

Dan Heng.

She shook her head. She was being delusional. He was dead, right? Mom and Dad had insisted. He couldn’t be alive. Couldn’t be standing right in front of her. It all had to be a coincidence.

It all… had to be…

“What a show!” Dr. Dig shouted to the crowd. “Who wants to be his next challenger?”

“I do,” Stelle said under her breath before she could think the better of it.

“Absolutely not,” Moze said. “You may be good, but as a woman, you’re at a disadvantage in spars against skilled men like that.”

That didn’t matter. She had to talk to him. What she’d say, she wasn’t sure, but she had to. Even if it meant letting him whip her ass in the ring, she had to get him alone, and where better than one of the several exchange rooms here?

She was already scanning the room for Sampo when Moze broke into her thoughts. “If I agree to take him, will you please stay put? Your brother would have my head if you got hurt under my watch.”

She wasn’t sure she could. Adrenaline flooded her veins, her muscles shaking, hands twitching. She had to find out. She had to know. But the glare Moze was pinning her with warned her not to test him. “Fine.”

Heaving a sigh, he crossed his arms. “What’s gotten into you?”

She bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed. “Don’t you think… that name sounds familiar?”

“What name?”

“Cold Dragon Young.”

Moze paused, his gaze turning toward the ring where a new fight was starting up. “Why?”

“That’s what I used to call Dan Heng.”

By now, the fighters were taking their swings, the crowd cheering as they did. Yet Stelle didn’t hear any of it. She was completely focused on the rather tense Crow Feathered Weirdo next to her. “One name, and you think it’s him?” he questioned.

“Don’t you think he looked like Uncle Dan Feng?”

At that, Moze was silent, and he remained that way until one of the fighters knocked the other out cold. “It would explain how he has that information,” he finally said.

“Exactly.”

Tapping a gloved finger against the purple sleeve of his coat, Moze mulled something over in his mind. Finally, he turned to her. “Go find Sampo. Say I want the next fight.”

Stelle didn’t need to be told twice.

While waiting for their turn, Cold Dragon Young made another appearance in the ring. His opponent was sprier than his last, yet it hardly seemed to make a difference. The fight came to a swift end when Cold Dragon Young flipped the opponent over his shoulder.

“He’s got skills,” Moze admitted.

“But did you get a good look at him? Do you think it could be?”

“I can see how you’d think such,” Moze confessed. “But temper your hope. It could all be for naught.”

She wouldn’t tell Moze he was asking the impossible of her.

While Moze made two more appearances in the ring, Cold Dragon Young made one last one before Dr. Dig finally announced what Stelle had been waiting for. “We have a treat tonight! An old favorite, and the new talent. Crow vs Cold Dragon Young!”

The crowd's roar should have been deafening. Instead, Stelle barely heard it. Her entire world narrowed to the ring alone. Unless it was Dr. Dig himself or the ring of the bell, everything else was a muffled blur. Heedless of Moze’s warning, fragile hope grew all-consuming within Stelle’s chest. If that wasn’t Dan Heng, Stelle’s world might shatter all over again.

When the fight commenced. Neither man moved for a couple seconds. It was Moze who lunged first, Cold Dragon Young blocking the blow. He let out a sneaky swing, forcing Moze to dodge. Back and forth, the two fighters danced. They gave hits and took hits. They fumbled and recovered. Stelle recalled the legend of a Crow spirit, a Tengu. That was an apt descriptor of Moze, for what mortal could be battling so elegantly, so viciously and relentlessly, against a Dragon?

The Tengu and The Dragon, their deathmatch almost graceful. One, then the other. Back and forth. Give and take. Fumble and recov—

BRIIIIIIING!

Red lights flashed along with that echoed alarm.

Stelle swore under her breath. Of all the times for that to go off.

“Everyone, remain calm!” Dr. Dig shouted. “We’ve gotten an alert that police have been called to the area. Exit the arena swiftly! Remain calm!”

Moze had jumped the cage before Dr. Dig even finished his spiel. He needed to escape, and fast. It would be extremely inconvenient if he were caught down here. While he could claim undercover work, it was best to avoid getting caught by local law enforcement at all. It was best they didn’t know a high-ranking investigative agent was in their area, trying to gain leads on the Borison trafficking group.

Especailly when that wasn’t exactly what he was doing here tonight.

Stelle needed to make hr escape, too, but the sight of a clearly flustered Cold Dragon Young scrambling to get out of the ring forced her to change direction. No matter what logic insisted, her whole body was screaming that was Dan Heng. Leaving him just wasn’t an option.

“Hey!” she screamed, grabbing Cold Dragon Young’s hand as he made his way from the cage. “We’re getting out of here.”

He gave her one look, recognition quickly crossing his face.

“Come on!” She yanked him through the masses toward a lesser-known exit that existed through one of the exchange rooms. They bounded up the flights of stairs, making it into the street right as Stelle heard the sirens echoing through the city. If the cops were that close, someone was getting arrested tonight. She just had to make sure it wasn’t her.

She took a sharp turn, aiming toward the nearest bar before she slowed. Then, taking Cold Dragon Young’s arm, she hissed at him. “Act casual. Pretend we’re on a date.”

He was huffing from the exertion, yet didn’t say a word. Instead, he calmly walked forward, allowing her to still guide him down the street right as three cop cars rolled around the corner.

Damn, someone was definitely getting arrested tonight. She wondered who was on their hit list this time. It wasn’t like they didn’t know about the underground club. Hell, she was pretty sure they sent spies there every so often, but they usually left it alone unless they had a warrant.

Stelle didn’t let him go, guiding him all the way toward the car she parked in the lot another block away. “Get in,” she demanded, rounding her little gray beater.

“Why’d you save me back there?”

She looked at him over the roof. “Just get in. I don’t want to be anywhere in the area when the cops start swarming.”

Thankfully, he listened.

Later, Stelle would recognize that letting a stranger into her car was a great way to die. But at the moment, the only thing going through her head right now was that she finally had a moment alone with him. He could either confirm her crackpot theory, or shatter her heart all over again.

But she’d do that after they left the area.

A SWAT vehicle—okay, she was definitely going to have to get the 411 from Sampo later on, or maybe Gepard would tell Serval who’d tell Stelle—flew past them as she drove out of the parking lot. She was happy the first two stoplights she hit were green, but the third forced her to hit the brakes.

With her heart back in her chest instead of her throat, she turned to the man in her passenger’s seat. “What’d you ask me earlier?”

He turned to face her, clearly caught off guard by her question. He must have been as flustered as she was. “Why’d you—”

A ring echoed through the car. A phone. Stelle laid a hand over her heart. Dammit, she could not take more jump scares tonight.

Cold Dragon Young pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen before answering it. “Boothill.” He then yanked his phone away from his ear. The man on the other end was loud. And pissed. Really pissed.

Cautiously, he put the phone next to his ear. “I got out. I… uh… am hitching a ride—”

Again, loud and pissed.

“You remember the bartender? Raccoon?”

The light turned green, and Stelle tried to turn her attention back to the road, but it remained vastly more focused on the conversation beside her.

“Where are we going?” the man finally asked her. “I need to meet up with my friend again.”

“Oh… uh…” It hit her then that she’d been aiming toward home. Aeons above, did she leave her brain back at the club or something?  “The parking lot behind Wildfire.”

The man didn’t question it, so it must have been an okay destination for him.  

For the next few minutes, the man talked on the phone to his companion, and by the time he got off, they were right around the corner from Wildfire.

“Sorry,” he muttered, hanging up. “I needed to take that.”

“Good friend of yours?”

“I came with him to the club tonight, but we agreed to split up if anything were to happen. He… he shouldn’t have come with me in the first place.”

“But you’re glad he did?”

“Yes. Very.” Cold Dragon Young took a breath. “But, to ask the question before we were rudely interrupted, why did you help me back there?”

Stelle tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. “I… this might sound crazy, but you remind me of someone.”

A few heartbeats of silence. She could only imagine the weird look he was giving her.

“Hey,” he continued, cutting the painfully awkward silence, “this is coming really late, but I realize I don’t even know your name.”

Please say Dan Heng, her heart screamed. Please!

“Daniel.”

Her heart shattered. Hot embarrassment boiled her cheeks. Idiot! she inwardly cursed. Her stomach added injury to insult, churning so violently all she wanted to do was throw up.

“And you… I thought I overheard one of the customers at the bar call you Gray?”

Pull it together. “Yeah.” She forced a smile. “Nice to officially meet you.”

“Likewise. I appreciate you helping me back there.”

“It was nothing,” she said, rambling to cover her growing sickness. She had to stay focused on the road, but that was hard when her vision was blurry. “Like I said… you reminded me of someone. Sorry, that probably sounds weird. I promise I’m not trying to be creepy or anything.”

Daniel was silent as Stelle pulled into the parking garage. Now, to find a spot. Even on a Wednesday night, the place was hopping.

“You remind me of someone, too,” Daniel finally said. “An… old friend. The one who… liked Draco.”

Her chest burned. “Wasn’t that your crush?”

“You remembered?”

Before she agreed, she caught herself. How was she supposed to respond to that? “Of course I remembered; I haven’t stopped thinking of you since you walked into the bar that night.”

That’d go over well.

“I did,” she carefully replied. “There are certain stories that stick with me, and that one really made an impression.”

“I didn’t think it was that notable.”

“It is when I sympathize. But unlike you… I don’t get the chance to find him.”

He was silent at that.

Finally, she drove up to the top level, finding it mostly empty, and turned into the first available spot. She flicked off the car, the streetlight before her streaming through the windshield to fully illuminate Daniel’s face, and when she pulled her keys, the interior lights automatically flicked on. For the first time, Stelle was able to take a really good look at him. He really was handsome. Unfairly so. Those blue eyes were both sharp and stunning.

Why couldn’t you be him?

“Thank you again,” Daniel said, opening up the door. “I… I owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she dismissed. She watched him slip out of the car, but then her mind caught up to her. She threw open her own door. “Actually… I do have a question.”

He stopped behind her car, which allowed her to catch up to him. “You have information on… on who killed two of the members of High Cloud, right?”

His eyes narrowed as he looked back to her. “I can’t—”

“I know what you’re looking for,” she cut in. “I’ll exchange it. I just…” She hung her head. “Call me crazy or whatever. I don’t even know what you have, but I have to ask.” She lifted her head again. “Does the name Dan Heng ring a bell?”

The way his eyes flashed was answer enough.

“Un… Dan Feng,” she continued, daring to take a risk she really shouldn’t. “I need to know who killed him, because… because maybe I can find out what happened to… to my special someone.”

The street noise of cars and the hum of the lightpost filled the night instead of an answer. Her vision wavered with unshed tears as she silently pleaded with this man. She felt like she was drowning, yet he looked as though he were, gaping like a fish as he worked for an answer.

When he did finally speak, it was the last thing she’d expected him to say.

“Stelle?”

~~

Hearing his name for the first time in years, particularly by a complete stranger, had thrown his heart into a panic, muddying his mind to the point he didn’t know his right from his left. His memories of Stelle finally bled over into the thoughts of this woman, and that was why her name slipped from his lips.

That had to be. Because there was simply no way that Stelle could be standing before him. There was no way that he’d spent years searching for her only for her to appear in his life by pure happenstance. That would have been too inconceivably easy.

And yet, a gasp tore from Gray’s throat. The tears in her eyes caused her golden irises—the same color Stelle’s had been, he had noticed—to glitter.

Shakily, her hands reached for his face but hesitated to come much closer than a hand's width away. Her touch never came, her hands covering her mouth instead. “Dan Heng?” Tears now streaked down her face, landing on her fingertips. “Is that… is that really you?”

Time had frozen. That was the only way to explain how his heart had stopped and his breath was stolen from his lungs.

It was her.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. “It’s me, Stelle.”

And then she tackled him in a hug.

“Oh my aeons,” she whimpered, clinging to him as though he was the only thing keeping her upright. “I found you. I can’t believe I found you.”

Nothing felt real. This was a dream; it had to be. Awkwardly, he wrapped his arms around her. If he held too tight, surely he’d wake up, and this delusion would be over.

Yet she felt so real, from her warmth to the rattling of her ribcage as she took a shaky breath. “I thought you were dead,” she choked out. “I thought you died with Uncle Dan Feng.”

This wasn’t a dream.

He tightened his grasp on her, returning her embrace with equal measure. She was real. She was in his arms. Here and alive and and and…

Her muffled sobs echoed in his ears. He reached up to stroke her hair, only for her to completely melt against him. He clung tighter, his own tears breaching their defenses and carving rivulets down his cheeks. It wasn’t long before his own ragged cries joined hers in the night. He’d found her.

He’d found her.

How long they were standing there in each other’s arms was anyone’s guess. Dan Heng could have stood there longer; all night, even. However, once his tears slowed and the fog of his mind lifted a touch, he pulled away.

Stelle slid away, roughly swiping at her face to rid herself of the tear trails. It might have made the red rimming her eyes worse, but to Dan Heng, she’d never looked so beautiful. Because Stelle, his Stelle, was finally back in his life.

“I… I can’t believe…” He swallowed, but his throat was tight with emotion. “I’ve been looking for you. All this time.”

“Where have you been?” she asked, her voice rough with tears. “We couldn’t find any trace of you. Mom and Dad finally told us that… that…” She shook her head, unable to finish that sentence.

“Do you remember Himeko and Mr. Yang? The people with the Astral Express.”

Recognition widened her eyes. “The cargo plane.”

“Exactly. They were there that night. They…” His voice cracked, forcing him to swallow the lump in his throat. Not that it made it any better. It remained to torment him. “They saved Bailu and me.”

“Bailu.” Her voice was breathy in awe, but strength returned to her quickly as she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. “Aeons, is she okay? How is she?”

“She’s doing well,” he answered. “She’s… she’s grown up so much.”

“I’m sure.”

“And Caelus?” he asked, his mind now whirling with the fact he hadn’t just found her. He’d found an entire part of his family. “Uncle Yingxing? Aunt Kafka?”  

“They’re all fine,” she answered. “Everyone is doing fine. Uncle Jing Yuan and Yanqing, Mrs. Feixiao, Mr. Jiaoqiu, and Moze—OH! You fought him! He’s Crow—E-everyone.”

His knees were going to give out. “Everyone?”

The tears on her lashes dribbled down her cheeks again, ones swollen with a smile. “We all split up that night… after your mom’s funeral. Took us a while, but we all found each other. You were the last one. You and Bailu.” A strangled, delirious laugh then escaped her. “Oh my aeons, I found you.”

The smile that stretched Dan Heng’s lips was growing painful. He loved it. He loved everything about it. For a night he’d thought had gone to hell, it had been redeemed in the most perfect way.

He opened his mouth, but whatever he’d been about to say was drowned out by a sudden, obnoxious car horn.

Instinctively, he yanked Stelle into his arms, blocking her from the oncoming headlights that shone over them. Tires crunched over the pavement as the wheels turned, and the brakes screeched as a big black pickup truck jerked to a stop right behind Stelle’s car.

The driver’s side window was rolled down, a very angry Boothill leaning halfway out of it. “What the fudge, Partner?”

For the first time that night, Dan Heng wished Boothill hadn’t come. “Boothill—"

“That was too close for comfort tonight. You didn’t even get what you were lookin’ for, and we could have gotten arrested. So that’s it. I don’t give two shits about that info. I ain’t going back there, and I ain’t lettin’ you.”

“Boothill,” Dan Heng sharply cut in. “Can you just give me a minute?”

“Fer what? To finish whatever the fudge is goin’ on with you an…”

By now, Stelle had turned out of his embrace, allowing Boothill to get a good look at her face.

The surprise that flashed across Boothill’s expression proved he remembered who that was, and the feral warning glare that Boothill proceeded to level at Dan Heng proved he remembered what Dan Heng had thought of the pretty Wildfire bartender. “Are you shitting me right now?”

“Please,” Dan Heng insisted. “I just… need a minute alone with her.”

Boothill let out a groan that was half tired, half livid. “Sixty. Fudgin’. Seconds.”

Dan Heng pushed Stelle back towards the driver’s side door of her car. “Sorry,” he said. “I have to go. Will you be okay if I leave you?”

She flashed him a lopsided smile. “Not my first rodeo. I’ll be fine.”

Of course she would. She was Stelle. And Stelle somehow knew how to survive everything. Even thirteen years of wondering where he was.

“But you’re not allowed to leave—” She shoved her phone in his face. “—without giving me your number.”

Grinning, he took out his own phone. After pulling up his contacts, he extended it to her.

He didn’t know it was possible for her expression to brighten further, but it did.

As he typed in his number, he hesitated as he looked at the name. He punched out three letters. D-A-N… His finger hovered over the spacebar. Part of him wanted to put Dan Heng, but the tendrils of fear that wove their way up his spine warned him against it.

…I-E-L.

He finished his last name, then saved it and handed it back to her.

She took hold of her phone, cradling it to her chest as though she’d earned something precious. “Thank you.”

“Before I go,” he said, absently taking his phone back from her; his eyes never left her face. “Do you know… The Cold-Hearted Killer…” He swallowed. “It’s Aunt Jingliu, isn’t it?”

Stelle nodded. “Yeah. You knew?”

Roughly, he raked a hand through his hair. The confirmation hit him harder than he expected, and yet it brought a touch of relief. “It looked so much like her, I couldn't help…”

The car horn beeped behind him, a short warning instead of a long alarm.

“Go,” she said, placing a hand on his chest. Over his heart. “Your friend is waiting for you. Just… don’t be a stranger.”

“When can I see you again?” The question came out so rapidly, there wasn’t any time to stop it.

She blinked, those silver lashes fluttering in surprise. “I’m free tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? He frowned. “I work tomorrow. I won’t be free until seven.”

“That’s fine,” she quickly assured. “I work nights. My whole rhythm is messed up. We could go get dinner? Or drinks?”

“Dinner is fine. You can choose.”

“Okay. I’ll text you.”

He started walking backwards toward Boothill’s truck. “Sounds good.”

“Great.”

Reluctant as he was, he turned his back to her, rounding the truck and hopping in the passenger’s side.

That ride out of the parking garage was deathly silent. Only once they turned on the main road did Boothill ground out, “You better start talkin'.”

“About?”

“Let’s start with how you had info you were willing to trade.”

Dan Heng’s gaze dipped to the floor. Just what was he supposed to say that wasn’t the truth? “It’s… complicated.”

“You got the whole damn drive.”

Dan Heng sighed. There really wasn’t any weaseling out of this. Boothill was like a homing missile: there was no stopping him once he locked in on something. The problem was, Dan Heng didn’t feel like this was fully his secret to tell. It was also Bailu’s. It was Stelle’s…

But his secret, if revealed to the wrong people, could also prove a danger to Boothill, and to little Clementine.

“I’m… let’s just say I’m in Witness Protection for that information,” Dan Heng said, searching for his friend’s reaction.

Boothill tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, then took a sharp turn. It wasn’t long before they ended up at a convenience store.

“Six-pack of beer. Minimum.” Boothill told him. “You’re buying.”

In answer, Dan Heng slipped out of the truck.

~~

He’d had the whole drive back to debate how much he wanted to tell Boothill. Apparently, one beer and an exhaustive night was all it took for the floodgates to open. For the first time, Dan Heng spilled everything, from how it was his parents that were murdered to how the bartender was actually his childhood sweetheart to the detail Stelle had let slip.

Boothill just listened, downing one beer then a second.

Finally, with four bottles empty between them, Dan Heng finally said. “If you need me to leave… I’ll do so.”

That got him an odd look. “The fudge would you have to leave?”

“Because… my past isn’t… safe.”

“Oh? And like Clem’s and mine are? Or Rappa’s? Come on, you know her past.”

He did, but that wasn’t the point. “You’re really okay with me staying? Even though I’ve been lying to you all this time?”

“The hell you blaberin’ ‘bout? I’ve known you six years. You can’t lie about the kind of man you are. About the kind of friend you’ve been to me; about the kind of uncle you’ve been to Clem. I don’t need to know more than that. But…” Boothill finally leaned back in his chair. “I knew you’ve had your share of secrets for a while. I could just tell. So… thanks. For trusting me with it.”

“Thanks for listening.” And Dan Heng was surprised at just how much he meant it. As terrifying as it was, there was also something freeing about getting that off his chest.

“So,” Boothill started up again. “That girl… you gonna go see her again?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

With a sigh, Boothill knocked back the rest of his beer. “Figured. Just… be careful. Time changes a person.”

Dan Heng didn’t need to be told that. On the way back home, he’d stared at the new contact in his phone. Gray Hunter. Not Stelle. Gray.

Times had changed; so had names.

“Now,” Boothill began, heaving himself out of his seat. “Go get some shut-eye. We got work tomorrow. Er… today.”

Dan Heng pulled up his phone, noting the ungodly hour. “You’re right,” he said, heaving himself out of his own chair. “’ night.”

With a tip of his chin, Boothill headed upstairs.

Dan Heng collected his beer bottles to toss in the trash, then he opened his phone again, staring at that new contact. Gray Hunter.

Stelle.

He’d blame the beer buzz for his next decision. Within a minute, he found a photo of a raccoon online and had set it as her profile picture. Both for what she’d called herself years ago… and what she called herself now.

But when he’d reached the bathroom, he gave himself a long, hard look in the mirror. He’d changed. Everything about him had changed. And if he’d changed… then who really was the woman in his phone now? Was she still Stelle?

Or was she as much Gray as he was Daniel?

[thenovelartist]

By Any Other Name - Chapter 5

<<Previous Next>>

Customers’ faces rarely lingered in Stelle’s head after closing. Today was one of those exceptions. Not even because she’d met a famous person, although Firefly was going to flip when Stelle brought home a napkin signed by the Robin Oak.

No, just a regular old customer.

Regrettably, he’d never caught his name, but for some reason, she felt like she’d been thrown into the past. He’d looked so much like Uncle Dan Feng from her memories that it haunted her.

“Something on your mind, Gray?”

Gray. It’d taken ages to get used to that name, just like it had taken ages for her to start calling her brother something other than ‘Caelus’. “Not really.”

Seele’s brow furrowed. “You sure? You’ve kinda looked out of it ever since serving that celebrity. I mean, I get it; easy to get starry-eyed, but the night isn’t over yet.”

It almost was, though. The band had wound down two hours ago. Silverwolf was left to DJ solo after that, but even her set was coming to an end. Last call was just around the corner.

“Shouldn’t have serving a celebrity made your night, though?”

At the smooth, charmer’s voice, both Stelle and Seele turned to glare at Sampo. “I thought Luka kicked you out,” Seele muttered.

“What crime have I committed?” he lightly questioned, waving his drink around as he lowered himself onto one of the barstools.

“Ambassador?” Stelle challenged.

“A little guidance for some newcomers is hardly a crime,” Sampo dismissed. “And when it comes with a side of helping out a very dear friend bag some tips… well, what can I say? I’m just that great a guy.”

Stelle’s brow quirked. “Are you saying you expect sending some good tippers my way is going to let you off the hook of our deal?”

Sampo blustered, his drink now swinging wildly as he gestured with his hands. “Why, I’d never. Ole Sampo never goes back on his deals.”

So… that was a yes.

“Save it,” Stelle sassed. “I don’t want the money; I want the information you promised me.”

Sampo chuckled nervously. “Well… you see, as it turns out…”

Lips pursed, Stelle’s eyes narrowed.

“The info isn’t… as reliable as was promised.”

“Then you better get me something of equal value,” Stelle warned. “I’m covering one hell of a black eye for my trouble winning the rights to that info. Now, it’s time to pay up.”

“Okay! Easy, easy! I’ll get you the information.”

“You better.”

Closing couldn’t come soon enough, so when the last customer was ushered out of the building and the doors were locked, Stelle nearly cheered.

“So,” Seele started. Stelle didn’t like the judgmental edge already lingering in her tone. “You went to the Fight Club.”

Stelle shrugged.

“And surprise surprise: you didn’t get what you wanted.”

“At least I didn’t lose anything.”

Seele sighed. “What are you even looking for so desperately?”

“Her old flame.” A new voice broke into the conversation. Silverwolf, AKA Stelle and Caelus’ adopted sister. In return for all the help Elio had provided concocting new identities and basically a whole new life for them, he’d dumped this brat of a girl on them and insisted they watch out for her before she got into any more trouble. She’d proven to come in handy, though, especially with all her tech skills.

“Old flame?” Seele flatly challenged.

“Who’s old flame?” That peppy voice this late into the evening—er… early in the morning?—could only be Luka. And in true Luka fashion, of course he’d have to wind his way into the convo at the worst time.

“It’s not like that,” Stelle protested maybe a little too firmly.

“Sure,” A smug Silverwolf muttered, smirk twitching up her lips as she leaned over the bar. “We totally believe you.”

“Oh! Wait? Which guy are we talking about?” Luka asked, confusion written all over his face. “Is it that rich blonde one, or the baseball player who plays with your brother?”

“The baseball player’s old news,” Seele said. “And he’s been married a year now.”

“Could still be an old flame,” Luka defended.

Stelle scoffed. “No, it’s not Phainon. Not Aventurine, either. Besides, that was strictly business.”

“How is dating someone ‘strictly business’?”

Silverwolf leaned back in her seat. “The guy wanted to make his real crush jealous. It was a total disaster, by the way. Great story. You haven’t heard it?”

“No!” Luka plopped down on a stool. “Share!”

“Doesn’t the floor need mopping?” Stelle loudly asked. “I know for a fact there are two whole mops back there.”

Silverwolf’s smirk turned wolfish. “Embarrassed much?”

“No. I just wanna go home and get to bed. And the sooner we finish cleaning, the sooner that happens.”

“Fine, fine.” Silverwolf slid off the seat. “I’ll get the mop.”

Luka watched her leave before turning back to Stelle. “So, who’s the old flame?” he questioned. “Because I’m pretty sure you aren’t talking about me or Serval’s brother or—”

“Hey, Luka,” Seele cut in before he could list off any more of Stelle’s disastrous dating history. She slapped the wet rag in her hand against the counter as she leaned in close. “You wanna explain why you let Sampo in again? After we specifically told you not to?”

Luka blanched. “Um… well, because—”

“You lost in the ring, didn’t you?” Seele’s eyes narrowed. “And now, you’re having to pay him back a favor.”

“NO! I… just… made a deal with him and—”

Stelle shook her head. Luka should know better than to argue with Seele, owner of Wildfire. She’d been working here since before she could drink, busing tables and making bar munchies. She’d truly worked her way up from the bottom. When the old owners had decided to sell, insisting that the place was hopeless, Seele had bought them out. Within the last two years, she’d turned this place from near bankrupt to booming, and if the appearance of Robin Oak tonight was any indication, Wildfire had truly made it as the hopping spot in town.

Soon enough, Luka was sent scurrying off with his tail between his legs.

“Ugh, those two,” Seele muttered. “Ignore them, Gray. We’ll talk about something else.”

“Like?”

“Like… I don’t know, how you seemed pretty enamored with the one guy.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about my dating history.”

“We aren’t. I’m just saying you don’t tend to cozy up to customers, you know.”

“Who said I was getting cozy?”

Seele’s expression flattened. “Look, I may not exactly be batting a thousand when it comes to reading people, but we’ve worked together long enough for me to tell when a customer catches your eye. So, what’s his story?”

Stelle dropped her rag back in the sanitizer bucket. “I don’t know.”

“Well, something about him caught your eye.”

She looked at the murky sanitizing water. “He reminded me of… someone from my past. His hair’s a lot shorter, but he looks like… like his dad. But it was a long time ago, so I’m probably delusional about it.”

“How do you know it wasn’t him?” Seele challenged, dumping her own rag into the bucket.

Stelle just watched the rag sink into the water. “Because he’s dead.”

~~

When Stelle awoke, the clock announced it was noon. The seven hours of sleep she’d gotten didn’t feel like nearly enough. The likely reason for her continued exhaustion lay in her hand. She gave the little felt pouch a squeeze, feeling both the lucky knot and the pearl it contained. Blindly, she fumbled around in her sheets for the other item she usually stored within. The moment her fingers brushed against the worn edge of a glossy paper, she slowed her movements.

Groggily, she lifted her head from her pillow, cracking her bleary eyes open. She really should take better care of this photostrip, but just holding it calmed her nerves when “what if”s and “could have been”s raced through her mind. Thirteen years had gone by since her world had been flipped upside down, yet it still haunted her as though she were living that moment. Both that day and the one that came five years afterwards, when Mom had sat her and Caelus down and told them Dan Heng and Bailu were very likely dead. Despite pulling every favor she could muster from her extensive network of connections, Mom hadn’t been able to find a single trace of them. Instead, there was far more evidence suggesting they were killed. The Dovebrook Massacre had resulted in many unidentified bodies, including those of children. However, both Mom and Dad promised they wouldn’t stop looking. It just… wouldn’t be as fervently as they had been.

Contradictory as it sounded, hope drained further with each family member they reconnected with. First came Jing Yuan and Yanqing, the emotional reunion taking place six years after the accident. Feixiao, Jiaoqiu, and Moze came a year after that. Aunt Jingliu, however, remained elusive. To add insult to injury, no one declared her dead. Dad insisted that until her corpse made the news, she was still alive. Stelle had challenged Dad as to why he had hope for Aunt Jingliu and not Dan Heng and Bailu. Twenty years of age was too old to throw that level of tantrum, yet she was pretty sure they let it slide due to her poor health.

With a shaky exhale, she gently ran her thumb over the photostrip. Specifically, tracing the silhouette of a young man with long, black hair and an endearingly awkward smile. Aeons, she was so pathetic. One random guy appears out of nowhere, and she’s reaching for old photos and reminiscing about the past. If there was a god of time, she’d probably be begging for a second chance to make things turn out differently.

Lovingly, she folded the photostrip up accordion-style before slipping it back into the pouch, where it had always been kept. Giving the pouch a little kiss, she tucked it back into the top drawer of her nightstand. She’d tried to move on; she really had. She’d let her friends set her up with some guys, but nothing ever worked past three dates. She’d even given some of the guys she’d made friends with over the years a shot. Same problem.

Being with Dan Heng had been as easy as breathing. Nothing else had even come close to giving her a hopeful feeling for the future. Then again, time and circumstances had worn her down to a fraction of who she’d once been.

Maybe it was time to shelve dating entirely. Accept she was bound to be the fun, spinster aunt (well… one of these days. Hopefully. But that was a different hurdle entirely). That would be fine. Besides, even if she found a guy, it was doubtful she could even have a family of her own, so what was the point?

She could accept that. She had to.

Stelle didn’t bother changing out of her sleepwear: a baggy black t-shirt and a ratty pair of gray sweats. It may be midday, but her parents understood she worked night shifts. They both cut her slack on this. Roughly running her hands through her frazzled hair, she meandered down to the kitchen.

“Good afternoon,” two sets of voices rang out in unison.

Stelle paused. That wasn’t Mom and Dad. Instead, she looked up, spying her brother sitting at the dining table with a large sandwich in hand while her sister-in-law was still in the kitchen, making a plate of her own. “Afternoon,” she slowly greeted. “Why are you here?”

“Is it illegal to come visit my parents’ house?” Caelus challenged. “Better question: where’d you get that shiner?”

“Take a wild guess,” Stelle flatly snarked.

Caelus sobered. “Win anything for your trouble?”

“I should have, but the lead didn’t cough up anything. Sampo owes me now.”

With a grunt, Caelus leaned back in his chair. “I could go myself—”

“No.” Stelle and Firefly said in unison.

“The season just started,” Stelle insisted. “Last thing you need is to find yourself in any trouble.”

“Even if it’s for a good reason?”

“Be reasonable,” Firefly warned, walking over to Caelus to lay her hands on his shoulders. “I know how important your family is to you, but… I don’t want you to break what you have now because you’re trying to dig up leads on the past.”

Caelus grunted, clearly not liking her answer. Yet, he’d listen. Five years, they’d been married, and Caelus was still as whipped as he was back when he was newlywedded.

“Well, I can break what I have now,” Stelle grumbled. “I’m not the one who has their life ahead of me.”

“Gray…” Firefly lamented. “That’s not true.”

“It isn’t?” she teased, hoping her smile was more joking than pained.

“Stelle.”

Ugh. Using that name, her real name, just wasn’t fair. Before Caelus had proposed, he’d asked the family if he could explain everything about their past to Firefly before he popped the question, which included their real names. He’d insisted she deserved to know who she was saying yes to. Seeing as Firefly had become one of Stelle’s closest friends—being hospital buddies trauma-bonded people in ways hard to describe—she’d been on board immediately, siding with Caelus as they faced Mom and Dad. It had been Mom who’d come around first, eventually persuading Dad to agree. Mostly because they all believed that Firefly would agree even after hearing their story.

“Come on, sis,” Caelus said. “So you got a little extra kick in the pants. It doesn’t mean your life is over.”

“Do I need to compare our career paths?” she jokingly challenged, hiding the fact that the comparison cut her like a knife.

“You could go back to school for something,” Caelus tried to encourage.

Stelle scoffed. “I barely finished school as is. I don’t want to go back.”

“Well, there’s more than just school,” Firefly continued, heading back into the kitchen. “You just have to find your own trail to blaze.”

“Trailblaze? Honey, I’m weed-whacking in the sticks.”

That got a snigger out of Caelus and a smile out of Firefly. She was thankful that cut the tension more than it cut her heart.

“Anyway,” Stelle continued, desperate to change the subject. She aimed a look at her brother. “Speaking of the season, didn’t you have practice today?”

“Cancelled,” Caelus dismissed, going back to his sandwich. “Coach isn’t feeling great today, so I just hit the gym with Mydei and Phainon.”

“Cool, cool.” Stelle wandered over to the kitchen stove, where two different plates lay piled with two distinctly different types of bacon.

“There’s deviled eggs in the fridge,” Firefly said, sitting down next to Caelus. Their plates could not have looked more different, and Stelle wasn’t speaking to the portion size. Firefly’s lettuce-wrapped BLT looked more like a salad than a sandwich, and the number of sweet potato chips was carefully portioned out as opposed to the heaping handful Caelus was downing. The hazard of autoimmune disorders.

She rubbed the draco constellation tattoo on her chest. Not that she knew anything about health complications. At least she could eat mostly normal again?

She looked at the pork bacon. Er… maybe that was still a stretch.

Tentatively, she reached for the pork bacon, breaking off a piece and trying a single bite.

Nope. Nope nope. Still tasted like metal. As it always did every single time she’d tried pork since her recovery.

After snatching a piece of turkey bacon, she opened the fridge, only to be greeted with a literal tower of containers. “Holy crap. Were you feeding an army or what?”

“Well,” Firefly said, “Cyrene got the idea that we should make lunch for the team today, since it was the last scheduled practice before the interviews started up and things got really chaotic. I was in the middle of making those when the coach called off practice.”

“They won’t go to waste,” Stelle said, grabbing the top container and popping a deviled egg in her mouth. “I promise.”

“Already pawned some off on two of the guys,” Caelus remarked, mouth full of food.

“And they pawned food off on you, too,” Firefly teased.

Unable to concoct a comeback, Caelus simply nodded, getting a giggle out of Firefly.

Stelle looked back in the fridge. Besides the mountain of eggs, there were three other containers: one full of a green salad, a container of dressing next to it, and one full of…

Well, it looked like poop.

Curiously, she opened the container and sniffed it. “Is this chili?”

“Yup,” Caelus confirmed. “Oh, and you can both eat both that and the salad. I double and triple-checked.”

Despite herself, Stelle smirked. “How kind of you.”

“Listen.” Caelus took a napkin and wiped his mouth before continuing. “Between the two of you, I’ve had eight freaking years of practice sussing out what foods are going to kill you or not.”

Firefly laughed. “Sorry, sorry. Thank you for the effort, though.”

“Of course. It’s not like either of you chose to be allergic to everything under the sun.”

Stelle put away the chili, planning to eat it later. For now, she’d go for the eggs and bacon route. “Oh! Firefly, wanna know the highlight of my night?”

“You got to hit Sampo,” Caelus retorted.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Sticking her tongue out at her brother, Stelle took a seat at the table. “Though that would have been the highlight of my night.”

“Worth a shot,” Caelus said. “Maybe I can get Moze to do it for me next time he’s in town.”

“How about not,” Firefly said, finally picking up her lettuce wrap. “What was the highlight, Gray?”

“There was someone super cool and super famous I served last night.”

Firefly’s eyes widened. “Super famous?”

“Like, wall-of-bodyguards famous.”

If she hadn’t captured Firefly’s attention before, she held it now. “Really? Who?”

“Guess.”

“Oh, come on. I’m terrible at this game.”

“It’s someone you would know. You’ve got this.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down.”

“Then you get ten questions. Go.”

“Only ten?! Ugh. Is it… an actor?”

For a while, they went back and forth like this. Somewhere around question four, Caelus stepped in to help Firefly, the two of them talking over what questions to ask or debating who it could be. Part of Stelle wanted to accuse them of cheating, but she’d let it slide.

“Are you going to make me feel like a stupid fangirl for guessing Robin Oak?” Firefly finally asked.

“No. Because that’s exactly who it was.”

Firefly’s hands slammed against the table. “No way.”

Downing the last bite of food on her plate, she held up a finger as she slipped out of her seat. A minute later, she was returning to the dining room with an autographed napkin in hand. “Bam! Check it.”

“SHUT! UP!” Firefly snatched the napkin from Stelle’s grasp, her expression glowing like a jar of fireflies in the dead of night.

Laughing, Stelle plopped back down in her seat.

“And she autographed it with my name!” Firefly squealed.

Resting his arm on the chairback behind Firefly, Caelus leaned closer. A task made difficult as he tried to avoid getting injured by the jumpy girl. “Sis, that’s cool!”

“Right?” Stelle remarked. “I kinda didn’t believe it when I saw it. She was super nice, by the way, and I doubt it was an act.”

“That’s so awesome! I’m so jel—”

“Sorry to break up the party.”

Stelle turned to see Silverwolf walking in, computer in her hand and expression flatter than one of Mom’s sad attempts at an “allergy-safe pancake”. That sort of thing was best left to either Dad or Firefly herself.

Good mood murdered, Silverwolf set her computer down on the edge of the table. “Before I continue, I should warn you this… it’s not pretty. Anyone need a bucket for a queasy stomach?”

“It’s that bad?” Stelle questioned, her voice raspy and quiet.

“Bad bad.” Silverwolf spun her computer around. “That face ring any bells?”

It took approximately ten seconds for the image on the screen to sink in. Silverwolf really hadn’t been kidding about the bucket.  

“They won’t stop until all of our heads are on a pike.” It was a conversation Stelle had overheard with Dan Heng many years ago, but that particular line had lingered in her head even after all this time. Now, as Stelle looked at the image of a woman with white hair holding a severed head, it looked like the owner of that line had decided to turn the tables.

In the most bloody and violent way imaginable, Aunt Jingliu had finally made herself known.

~~

Being a bodyguard for Robin Oak meant a lot of travel. Being her bodyguard after she had been gravely injured meant even more. Unlike previous tours where Robin was on the road most of the time, it had been determined that she would fly out the day before each concert and fly home after it had wrapped up.

Dan Heng thought it was excessive. Robin was more in danger during the actual duration of the concert than she was during travel. Then again, when left to her own devices, her philanthropic spirit did occasionally lead her to, for example, arrange a charity concert in the middle of the week. More specifically, a charity concert with meet-and-greets where someone who despised the fact that Robin was helping victims of the Sanctus Medicus cult decided to pull a knife.

After ensuring everything was packed, Dan Heng headed to the living room of the townhouse Boothill owned. There was no point in Dan Heng having his own place when all he needed was a room. His last set of roommates had been depressive fools, so when Dan Heng had heard his coworker was looking to rent out a room, he’d decided that living with someone who had a daughter, even if both of them were a little rowdy, couldn’t be worse than the chaos he was already subjected to. That had been four years ago, and Dan Heng had no complaints. Not even when Rappa came on two years ago and ended up living in the basement. For all their quirks, they were good people.

Currently, the TV was on, a panel of people talking before reporters. But instead of Boothill or Rappa, it was Clementine sitting with rapt attention.

“What are you watching?” Dan Heng asked, setting his bag down at the front door.

“It’s the Titans’ interview! I’m even wearing my jersey. See?!” She flipped around, showing her the big “7” and “Hunter” emblazoned on the back of a baseball jersey.

“That’s the spirit,” Boothill said, hefting his own duffle bag down the stairs before dropping it next to Dan Heng’s. He then leaned over the back of the couch, watching the TV. “Who’s all there?”

“Hunter, Reaver, and Nikador.”

“Sent out the big guns, did they?”

“Duh. And then Coach Anaxa’s off to the side.”

For a while, Dan Heng was content to listen to the duo talk about baseball. The nostalgia hit him like a tidal wave. The Titans had also been Caelus and Stelle’s favorite team growing up. Back then, Anaxa had been a player, but that was before an accident had robbed him of his eye.

While Clementine and Boothill frequently discussed all the players, even the few remaining ones Dan Heng remembered from back in the day, their main focus was on these three promising upstarts, with number 7, Aaron Hunter, being the duo’s favorite. Sometimes, Dan Heng wondered if Caelus and Stelle still kept up with their team. What did they think of this trio?

It wasn’t that long before the trio and their coach stood, waved to the cameras, then headed off stage. Dan Heng must have only caught the tail-end of the interview.

“Okay,” Boothill lightly smacked Clementine’s shoulder. “Go get your stuff. Gramps should be here any minute to pick you up.”

“Got it,” she shouted, scampering up the stairs.

“Hopefully, she packed everything,” Boothill muttered. “Where’s the remote?”

“Arm,” Dan Heng mentioned, pointing to the arm of the couch.

Boothill leaned over, but when he reached for it, it slipped. While Boothill managed to catch it, he must have hit a button because it changed the channel.

“—second massacre that occurred today was related to the Sanctus Medicus cult.”

Dan Heng and Boothill both froze, their eyes now locked on the newscaster on screen.

“Both the killer’s motive and identity are still unconfirmed. However, the suspect appears to be a middle-aged female with white hair. When police were questioning the suspect, she quote ‘only did what the founders of Sanctus Medicus would have done to her.’ We have a reporter on the scene.”

“Yes,” A second reporter spoke up as the scene shifted. “And it’s a very gruesome scene, one we are unable to display due to the graphic nature. Just like the scene that happened just days ago, there are several dismembered bodies that the killer had arranged to, presumably, make a spectacle. It is too early to identify the victims in question; however, statements by the perpetrator as well as previous investigation have currently led police to believe that the victims of both murders were members of a medical cult known as Sanctus Medicus. The suspect has surrendered peacefully and been taken into custody.”

“Free her,” Boothill growled. “Don’t care who she is or what she did. Free her.”

Dan Heng kept his mouth shut, lest he fear he echo Boothill’s sentiments. How ironic that the three people living in this house—all of whom just so happened to be Robin Oak’s bodyguards— had personal ties to this damned cult. Either the world was small, or Sanctus Medicus had hurt a lot of people in their time.

Dan Heng, Boothill, and Rappa had all been sickened when they learned two of the founding members had been released from prison for “good behavior” earlier this year. Two people his parents had spent their lives hunting and putting away before he was born were free to start up whatever they wished while his parents both rested in the ground. Was it wrong of him to hope that they were among the list of victims?

When footsteps pounded down the stairs, Boothill and Dan Heng shared a quick, panicked glance. Clementine didn’t need to hear the news. Despite her background, Boothill had gone above and beyond to make sure she never heard a thing about the cult that had left her with asthma.

“Hey, Clementine,” Dan Heng said, springing into action. He managed to stop her at the base of the stairs while Boothill quickly turned down the TV. “Do you mind doing me a favor? I forgot something in my room.”

“I’ll go get it!”

“It’s… uh, my phone cord. I left it in the wall.”

He didn’t. He had one specifically for travel. But it was all he could think about on short notice.

“Got it!” Quick as Pom-pom, she bounded up the stairs.

Dan Heng then turned back to the TV, trying to read the only half-correct captions Boothill had somehow thrown on the screen. Unfortunately, even the text rolling across the screen wasn’t leaking any important details.

A minute passed, then two. While Dan Heng was glad to have bought time, he did wonder if he hadn’t left the phone cord out at all. Yet, just as he was going to check on her, she came around the corner.

Dan Heng pretended to cough. Immediately, Boothill turned off the TV and threw the remote aside.

Proudly, Clementine held out a cord. “Found your charger. I also found this on the floor.” And then she held up a photostrip.

His gut sank to the floor.

“Who’s that?”

He took the pictures from her. Thank goodness it was folded in half, hiding the names written on the back. The series of photos was already embarrassing enough; he didn’t want to explain the names. “Um… that’s…” Dan Heng swallowed, his eyes locked on the grinning gray-haired girl. “That’s me.”

“That’s you?!” Clementine asked. “You had long hair like Daddy?”

“Hey, let me see!” Boothill then peered over Dan Heng’s shoulder.

It seemed there was no getting out of this one. “I did,” he said. In a fit of depression, he’d cut it all off within that first month of losing both parents. Part of him had regretted it at the time, yet he never went back, clinging to the belief that his new identity demanded that change.

“Wow. That’s so weird.”

Her childlike innocence got a bitter grin out of him.

“Who’s that in the picture with you?” Boothill finally asked.

Stelle. Her name sat bitterly on his tongue. “My…” cousin. My childhood sweetheart. Someone I hate living without. “Closest friend.”

“You two seem awfully close.”

The knife in his heart twisted. “We were.”

“She’s pretty,” Clementine remarked.

“She was.” To that, Dan Heng easily agreed. “You said you found this on the floor?”

“Yeah. By your bed.”

Dan Heng’s lips pursed. It must have fallen out of the book he kept it tucked inside. Ever since going to the bar a week ago, Stelle had been at the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t always like that, but that bartender had stirred the nostalgia in his heart. He hadn’t been able to resist the pull of looking over Stelle’s pictures again.

“Well,” he said, tucking the photostrip close to his heart and forcing a smile he didn’t feel. “Thank you for finding it.”

“Of course.”

He marched past her up the stairs, back to his room, where he set the phone cord aside and carefully tucked the photos back into the yellowed pages of a book: the last one Dad had given him. He then set the book back on the shelf, next to the book light Mom had given him. Those were all the things left of his past. When Himeko had offered to return to their house—a daring move considering the situation—in order to collect things, she’d found the whole place had been burnt to the ground. Both his house and the house next to it. Once, when he was wandering the house during one of his many bouts of insomnia, Dan Heng had overheard Himeko telling Welt that she’d watched two bodies being retrieved from one of the houses. Stelle’s house.

Now, the flashbacks to the hotel fire were only half his fear of flames. The nightmares of his cousins, his uncle and aunt, burning alive were the other.

Within the hour, Clementine had been picked up by her grandparents, and Boothill was driving Dan Heng and Rappa to Pearluxe Music Studios. There, they met up with Robin and Ashveil before getting into a limo that would drive them to the airport.

“You okay, buddy?” Boothill prodded.

Dan Heng looked up from his book. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’ve been staring more at that bookmark than the page.”

His eyes lowered to the object in his hand. Right, there was one more item from his past he’d managed to stay in possession of.

“It’s a pretty bookmark,” Robin commented. “I like the lotus bead on it.”

“Doesn’t seem like your style,” Ashveil remarked. “You’d be the kind to use a receipt, yet every book I ever see you with has that bookmark.”

There were few things that escaped Ashveil’s notice. There was no way out of it now. “It was a gift from… someone special.”

“A certain friend of yours?” Boothill asked.

Dan Heng just nodded.

Boothill hummed. “At the risk of, er, steppin’ on your boots… what was she like?” he finally asked.

How does one describe a star herself? “The bartender we saw last week… she was kinda like that. Cheerful, a little… sassy. Even called herself the ‘feral raccoon’. Both her and her twin.”

“Hey, uh, who are we talking about here?” Ashveil asked.

“Long story short,” Boothill spoke up. Which was fine because Dan Heng didn’t have a response. “Happened to see a photo of Daniel here with an old childhood friend of his. Gotta admit, there was some resemblance between her and the bartender.”

Ashveil hummed. “What happened to her?”

It was a logical question to bring up. Dan Heng should have had an answer at the ready, but he’d failed to prepare one in advance. “I… don’t know. We kinda… grew apart.”

A beat of silence. “Last question,” Ashveil said.

Dan Heng quirked a brow at him. “Dare I allow it?”

His boss leveled him with a meaningful look. “There’s more to the story than ‘just friends’, isn’t there?”

Somehow, Dan Heng wasn’t surprised, yet he wasn’t sure how much he was ready to tell. His secrets needed to stay as such, and he didn’t want to lie himself into a corner. “That obvious?” he returned instead.

“Meh. Simple deductions, really.” Ashveil’s tone then turned serious as he leaned forward. “If you ever want any help or just an ear, we’re here to listen.”

Uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Dan Heng glanced away. How was he supposed to respond to that?

“But then again…” Before Dan Heng could concoct an answer, Ashveil relaxed back in his seat. “We’re also all entitled to our secrets.”

[thenovelartist]

By Any Other Name - Chapter 4

<<Previous Next>>

“Daniel, you don’t have to make breakfast for us.”

“It’s fine,” Dan Heng replied, the once-foreign name now so familiar he didn’t even bat an eye at it.

Himeko—er… mom, he should say; even after thirteen years, he occasionally had difficulty addressing her as such—shook her head affectionately. “I know you’re perfectly capable, but we aren’t the ones who have a flight to catch later. I would have been happy to make you something before you left.”

At that, Dan Heng’s stomach turned. Himeko might be better at cooking than she once was, but Dan Heng didn’t want to play Russian Roulette with Himeko’s cooking right before a three-hour flight. “I don’t mind.”

“If you insist. Then I’ll make coffee for everyone.”

His hands froze right before he cracked an egg into the bowl. The only thing worse than Himeko’s cooking was her coffee. Before he could make a mental note to make a side of tea to go with breakfast, another set of footsteps echoed behind him. “I’ll make coffee,” Welt Yang—dad; again, it was hard to address him as such, but for a somewhat different reason—spoke up. “Himeko, could I ask you to wake up the girls? They would be disappointed to miss one last breakfast with Daniel before he left.”

Dan Heng let out a sigh of relief as he cracked one last egg into the bowl. Thank you for the save, Welt.

“Why do you always send me to get them?” Himeko asked, her voice light with teasing.

“Because you are more effective at it. It must be the woman’s touch.”

Dan Heng glanced over his shoulder, taking in the silent conversation between their verbal one as he whisked the eggs in the bowl. Years of observation, and Dan Heng still couldn’t accurately define his “parents'” relationship. When they’d taken him and Bailu in, they agreed to an arranged marriage in order to better raise and protect the two kids they’d adopted. To the world, they played the part well. In private… well, they still felt extremely close. They might not share a bedroom or any stereotypical romantic gestures, but there was an ease in how they navigated daily life that insinuated there was more to the story than they let on.

“Alright,” Himeko acquiesced. Hand on Welt’s shoulder, she side-stepped past him. “I’ll go wake them.”

Welt had a hand on her side as she slipped by, a motion that could be interpreted either as domestic affection or as guiding Himeko away from the coffee maker.

Once Himeko was well out of earshot, Dan Heng murmured, “Thank you for saving the coffee.”

“It was the least I could do,” Welt returned just as quietly.

By the time Welt had started the coffeemaker and retrieved the mugs from the cabinet, Himeko returned to the kitchen, followed by a girl carrying a gray and white rabbit in her arms.

“Daniel’s cooking?” March, Dan Heng’s adopted sister, asked. “I thought my birthday was yesterday. Since when do I get so spoiled?”

“I’m not making pancakes today,” Dan Heng said, pouring the eggs into the simmering broth.

March then leaned over his shoulder, cuddling the rabbit close to her chest to keep it away from the flames. “Egg drop soup before you leave? Yeah, that checks out.”

“March, I don’t want Pom-Pom’s fur in the food,” Dan Heng muttered.

“Yeah, okay.” And then she padded out of the kitchen.

She returned a few minutes later, clearly having given the rabbit its breakfast. Dan Heng glanced over his shoulder, expecting a second figure to appear, but March was alone.

“We appear to still be missing one,” Welt remarked, pouring coffee into the several cups.

“I did wake Autumn up,” Himeko said, taking two of the cups and setting them at the table. “But I wonder if she fell back asleep.”

“She was up all night,” March lamented, taking one of the cups from Himeko. “I told her not to study too late into the night, but I doubt she listened.”

Himeko chuckled. “Daniel, why don’t you get Autumn this time?”

He looked at the soup, then took it off the burner. “Okay. The soup is finished, so you can serve yourselves.”

“Thank you.”

Dan Heng headed upstairs. There were four bedrooms in the house, which had made it perfect back when there had only been four members. Everyone got their own room, although Bailu had slept in Dan Heng’s room for about a year after the incident. The nightmares haunted both of them, and they really only had each other to lean on.

But then March had joined the fray about a year and a half later. Dan Heng still remembered Welt shouting for help after bringing a half-frozen girl inside, having found her unconscious in a snowbank while coming home from work. Dan Heng and Bailu had done all they could to help warm the girl, including steaming up a bathroom with the hottest water possible and gathering all the warmest blankets in the house. As soon as she roused, they’d all taken her to the hospital, but when no one had come to claim the lost girl, Welt and Himeko took her in. Just like that, she was given the Yang last name to signify she was officially inducted into their already highly unusual family.

Seeing as the house only had four rooms, it had made sense for the two girls to share the largest one; hence, they were given the master bedroom. The arrangement was beneficial since it meant Bailu didn’t have to sleep alone anymore, which helped deter the nightmares. They still kept up this arrangement even though Dan Heng no longer lived here. Bailu’s reasoning was they still thought of his room as his. But the space hardly went to waste. It now served as the house study when he wasn’t visiting.

He knocked on the door to Bailu’s bedroom. “Autumn?”

No answer.

He cracked the door open, spying his biological sister sprawled out on her bed, leg hanging off the side as though she hadn’t managed to make it completely into bed before falling back asleep.

A smile rose unbidden, and he affectionately shook his head. Walking to her side, he shook her shoulder with a quietly whispered, “Bailu.”

Her nose crinkled as a groan escaped her. “You can’t use that name.”

His grin doubled. He knew he needed to stick to her chosen name. They both knew that. However, there were moments neither could resist using their given names. There was a part of them that never wanted to lose the tie to their past. To their real parents; their aunts and uncles. Their cousins. “So you were awake.”

“I can’t move.”

Dan Heng glanced over at the ratty notebook on Bailu’s nightstand, one open to a jumble of anatomical vocabulary and their definitions. “How late were you studying last night?”

“Long enough to hopefully drill that page into my head. Midterms are right around the freaking corner, and I cannot flunk this class.”

“You can’t flunk any of your classes.”

“Yeah, but this one suuuuucks.”

Dan Heng grinned. “I believe in you. Now, breakfast is ready.”

“Coffee?”

“Himeko didn’t touch it.”

“I wouldn’t even care if she did.” Finally, Bailu lifted her head off the pillow, her frazzled braids falling over her shoulders. “Pre-med students run on fear of failure and the closest source of caffeine, edible or not.”

Dan Heng chuckled. “Don’t fall back asleep.”

“Ughhhh.”

He left the door open as he headed back downstairs. Honestly, he was immensely proud of her. All her hard work—taking advanced courses in high school, searching out every scholarship possible even if it was small, cramming summer courses in college—was going to pay off at the end of this semester with her graduating a whole year early from community college. Of course, medical school was going to be much harder… and much more expensive. While she planned to, once again, search out every scholarship available, Dan Heng was determined to help out as much as he could.

It wasn’t like he had much going for him. Compared to Bailu and March, who’d started her own photography business from the ground up, he thought he might be the disappointment of the family. He’d thought about going to college, but the cost of tuition and his lack of direction had driven him to take a gap year. He’d landed a job at a private security agency. It paid well, and he was decent at it. One year turned to two, and by the time Bailu said she wanted to go to medical school, Dan Heng set aside any notion of going to college. Instead, he would work to fund Bailu’s inevitable tuition. He really didn’t want to rely on Himeko and Welt to pay a single cent. Not after everything they’d done for him.

For all of them.

So as hard as it still was for Dan Heng to call them “mom” and “dad” without his own parents' fading faces flashing through his head, he would do so. Not because necessity demanded it, but because they deserved the honor.

~~

With a new book, one on the newest advancement in marine biology, his flight back home to Penacony passed quickly. When he landed, he immediately sent a text.

Daniel: My plane just landed. I didn’t check any bags so I’ll be up ASAP.

Boothill: This is Clementine hijacking dad’s phone. We’re on our way. Someone almost ran dad off the road so we took a wrong turn.

Dan Heng grimaced. He could only imagine the chaos that had ensued then, punctuated by a string of creatively colorful language. His coworker-turned-friend-turned-roommate was not known for his patience.

Daniel: I’m in no hurry. Tell your dad to take his time.

Dan Heng didn’t rush through the airport; instead, he simply went with the flow. Yet, by the time he found himself at the pick-up area, he watched a large, black pick-up truck roll into view. What was most noticeable was the eight-year-old girl hanging out the back window, her twin braids and the sheet of paper in her hand both ruffling in the wind. Only when the truck was close enough could Dan Heng read it.

Welcome Home, Uncle Daniel!

The pang in his heart didn’t temper his grin. The ‘uncle’ title didn’t hurt as much as it used to, but occasionally, it would remind him of all his uncles and aunts. To this little girl, he was a person she could look up to, someone she could feel safe with, someone she could trust to help her out whenever she needed to. Even though he’d only had that title for about two years or so, he still wore it proudly.

“Hey, Clementine,” he greeted, reaching out to pat her head. “Thanks for the warm welcome.”

“You like my sign?” she asked.

“I do.”

“I wanted to make it bigger, but we ran out of tape,” she pointedly shouted at her dad.

“I said we’d get more later,” Boothill returned, rounding the truck.

“Why couldn’t we get it on the way?”

“’Cause we were running late already.”

“I could have waited,” Dan Heng said, allowing Boothill to take his duffle bag for him.

Boothill shook his head, then mimed a few gestures: a point at the car, then a motion in front of his mouth.

Inhaler.

Dan Heng tipped his head in understanding. Clementine must have had an episode before they came. For a seemingly rambunctious child who loved spending as much time outdoors in the dirt as possible, one never would suspect she was prone to severe asthma attacks. Just like Yanqing and Moze, she’d been a child saved from a Sactus Medicus lab, but while they’d seemingly been spared any adverse reactions from all their experiments, Clementine hadn’t been so lucky.

“Anyway,” Boothill said, tossing Dan Heng’s bag in the back seat next to Clementine. “How was the trip? Everything good with your family?”

“Yeah,” Dan Heng said, sliding into the passenger’s seat just as Boothill hopped into the driver’s seat. “Everyone says hi.”

“Nothing new and exciting? If I remember correctly, one of your sisters is graduating… uh, med school?”

“Pre-med. And if she passes this class, she will.”

“Good on her.”

“Dad,” Clementine said from the backseat. “I wanna show Uncle Daniel the new song.”

“Oh yeah. You can show him.” He glanced over his shoulder again, trying to navigate out of the airport pickup lanes. “Dan, could ya put in the phone cord for her? She really wanted you to hear this one.”

Dan Heng did as asked, then adjusted the radio so it would play whatever Clementine was searching for on Boothill’s phone.

But she didn’t even get the chance to start the tune before the phone dinged loudly. Multiple times. Strangely, so did Dan Heng’s.

“That who I think it is?” Boothill asked the girl in the backseat.

“Miss Robin,” Clementine confirmed.

“What’d she say?”

“I got it.” Dan Heng whipped his phone out to read off the texts from his—er, his and Boothill’s—charge. Their time together in the private agency had resulted in being hired as backup security for one of Robin’s charity concerts. Except the Meet-and-Greet at the end had quickly turned into a nightmare when she’d been attacked. Dan Heng and Boothill’s prompt actions had earned them notice from Robin’s private security. Now, they were Robin’s private security. “She wants to go out to a club tonight to celebrate the beginning of her upcoming tour.”

Boothill snorted. “Ask her who gave her permission to do so, ‘cause I can think of three people who’d be wildly against that.”

“She says she has permission from all three.”

Boothill’s jaw dropped to the floor, his face screwing up in bewilderment. “How’n the fudge she manage that?”

“On the condition that she convinces Rappa, you, and me to accompany her.”

“There’s the catch. Well, Danny, you up for it? You did just get back.”

“I suppose so.”

“You can tell her no.”

“Can you swing it?” Dan Heng asked.

“Clem!” Boothill called back. “You wanna go stay with Granpa and Gramma tonight?”

“You have to work?” she asked, a little whine in her voice.

“Maybe.”

“You promised dinner tonight.”

“It’ll be after dinner.”

“Then I gueeeeess,” she sassed, her smile giving away her teasing.

Boothill’s smile brightened. “Stinker. I’ll ask Robin to text you.”

Clementine gasped as she leaned forward. “Really?”

“Really really. Now, sit your butt back in the seat.”

Clementine slid back into her seat properly. “Everyone at school’s gonna be so jealous when I tell them.”

Dan Heng smiled. At this pace, Robin was one step away from being ‘Aunt Robin’. Although he happened to be privy to information that his friend would prefer Robin had a different title. Not that Boothill would dare act on it. His friend’s integrity overshadowed his infatuation with the popstar. At most, he’d make a playful pass here and there when the timing allowed. Otherwise, he’d simply strive for nothing short of his best when serving as her bodyguard.

“Where’s the girl wanna go?” Boothill asked.

“Some place called ‘Wildfire’,” Dan Heng answered. “Have you heard of it?”

“Nah. I may know a handful of good bars, but clubs? Not a clue.”

“Do you think it’s safe?” Dan Heng asked, already pulling up the web browser on his phone.

“If she got permission from both Pearl and Ashveil, they must think so. Her manager wouldn’t let her go anywhere that would hurt her reputation, and Boss wouldn’t let her go to a place he wasn’t sure about. We’re just there for reassurance.”

Dan Heng managed to pull up photos of the location in question. It boasted live music, a large dance floor, an extensive bar, and a VIP lounge. Seemed a little grungier a place than someone as polished as Robin might visit, but in the years Dan Heng had been serving her, he’d learned that she was full of surprises. Her injury hadn’t dulled her sense of adventure, or if it had, then Dan Heng didn’t want to know how adventurous she’d been beforehand.

His phone then dinged again. Another text from Robin, this one a plea to celebrate with her friends before the tour.

Dan Heng pursed his lips. Friends, she called them, as though she wasn’t referring to her three closest bodyguards.

“What’s that text say?” Boothill asked.

“She’s pleading.”

That got a chuckle out of him. “Can you rally for her sake?”

Dan Heng paused, mulling it over. Both for Robin’s sake, and his friend’s. Boothill would never admit that he was a pushover when it came to the singer. “I suppose.”

“Then tell her we’re in.”

Daniel: To be clear, you do have explicit permission from Madam Pearl, Ashveil, and Sunday?

Robin: Yes! In fact, they’re all coming.

Dan Heng pursed his lips. “Behave,” he simply warned Boothill.

“Huh? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because her brother is coming along.”

“Muddle fu… Explains why she got his permission.”

“Still want to go?”

Boothill sneered, muttering something incoherent before grousing, “Yeah. I’ll protect the stuffy bird.”

Daniel: Then Boothill and I will both be there.

Robin: (Cheer emote)

Robin: THANK YOU!!! I can’t wait!

~~

If Dan Heng had a choice, he would not step foot in any kind of club. Unfortunately, as a bodyguard, it was his duty to follow his charge wherever she wanted to go.

“Robin, I still stand on the opinion this is ill-advised.”

“Brother,” Robin responded, her irritation thinly veiled, “while your opinion has been heard repeatedly, I do not agree.”

“Then remind me again why you insisted on this outing?”

“This is the first tour I’ve been on since…” Her voice trailed off, fingers automatically reaching for her ever-present choker. Today, it was a purple ribbon decorated with silver stars. Her smile warbled, but she managed to replace it quickly. “Isn’t that worthy of celebration? Especially since this will be my first tour with my newest bodyguards.

“Sunday,” Ashveil, Dan Heng’s boss, spoke as a gentle warning. “There is no one who understands how important security is more than I. I’ve already scouted the place yesterday and put in all the proper security measures. Isn’t that why we have all new bodyguards who’ve gone above and beyond to prove themselves?”

Sunday glanced at the three bodyguards who trailed behind him. Proven themselves, Ashveil had said. Dan Heng didn’t think he’d proven himself more than any other person. He’d simply stepped up when the situation demanded it. As had Rappa and Boothill. Maybe Ashveil was referring to the fact Boothill had served as a personal guard while Robin was in critical condition in the hospital, only to drag Dan Heng and Rappa into the routine with him. Apparently, that had been enough to earn Robin’s trust.

The two years after that? She’d earned their loyalty, and they’d given it back in return. For a popstar, she was surprisingly down to earth. Dan Heng could respect that.

The limo stopped in front of a large building. A crowd waiting for the door engulfed the entire sidewalk.

“Holy shuriken, place is hoppin!” Rappa remarked, stepping out of the limo to observe the area.

That it was. Dan Heng was gradually regretting his agreement to partake in tonight. But if he hadn’t agreed, then Robin would not have been allowed to go. Boothill wasn’t the only one weak to the singer; Dan Heng cared just enough that he would have regretted holding her back when she was finally spreading her wings again.

“OMG! Is that Robin?!”

“It’s Robin Oak!”

“No way!”

Before the cameras—the phone variety; the paparazzi hadn’t caught wind of this plan yet—could start flashing, the four bodyguards all positioned themselves as a human shield around their charge.

“Can’t I wave?” Robin asked.

“Wait ‘til we’re inside,” Madam Pearl spoke up. Between her strategic positioning behind Ashveil and the elegant fan she wielded, she covered herself well. Robin was popular to the public, but Madam Pearl of Pearluxe Music Studios was also a worthy subject of documentation.

With only standard levels of fuss, they made it to the entrance, specifically the side reserved for VIPs.

“Madam Pearl, Miss Robin,” the enthusiastic, red-headed bouncer at the door greeted. “We’ve been waiting for you. Please, this way.” He then rearranged the red velvet ropes to block off the line and instead allow them entrance.

“Thank you,” Madam Pearl said.

“My pleasure,” he said. “Your reservation is upstairs. Just ask anyone in a red armband if you require any further assistance.”

The moment Dan Heng entered the building, the sounds of a chaotic line shifted to loud music and a jovial crowd. His sanity was not going to last long in this place. This is just business, he reminded himself. It would only be a couple hours at most. He could survive this.

They made their way through the crowd to the stairs previously indicated, only to be intercepted by a man in a red vest and red armband. Dan Heng’s defense lowered, but only slightly.

“Welcome, welcome,” the man greeted with a bow. “It is an honor to have the Robin Oak grace our humble little establishment. I’m Sampo, and just consider me the… ambassador of Wildfire. I wish to make the most of your visit here.”

Robin’s eyes lit up. “Why thank you. It’s such a lively place.”

Lively was an understatement. Security nightmare, more like. Laser lights sparkled disorientingly over the undulating throng of people on what was considered the dance floor. More people swarmed the bar, where Dan Heng could make out the occasional bottle flying in the air, which was followed by a rowdy uproar. How easy would it be for someone to assault their charge here? Add in the inebriated states of who-knew-how many people in the building, and that was simply a disaster waiting to happen.

“I’m thrilled you think so,” Sampo said. “Please, allow me to guide you to your reservation.”

While something about this man screamed “Snake-Oil Salesman”, Dan Heng was happy when they escaped the downstairs masses. The dim lounge area, filled with plush couches and chairs, was practically a retreat in comparison. There were far fewer people here, all huddled around tables laden with drinks. He could do without the very public show of affection by one couple in the corner, though.

“Your reserved section,” Sampo presented with another theatrical bow. “Now, as I let you get settled in, is there anything I can get your party? Maybe start up with a round of drinks. Oh! Or would you like me to put in a request for a song on the dance floor?”

“We’ll hold off on that,” Ashveil said, his shoulders squared as he studied Sampo. His assessing gaze was tempered by his easygoing demeanor. Pair that with the casual way he blocked Madam Pearl from sight as she took her seat on the couch and adjusted her airy blue dress, and it was evident why Ashveil was the head of her security. “But a club like this? I expect a good cocktail. Any recommendations?”

“My biggest recommendation would be to go visit the bar yourselves,” Sampo said, his arms wide and welcoming. “Our bartenders know how to put on a show. But considering your status here, you undoubtedly want the best of the absolute best! Be sure to request Raccoon personally at the bar. She’ll be perfectly pleased to accommodate you.”

“Noted,” Ashveil remarked. “And, if we do want something brought up?”

“Ask anyone with a red armband,” Sampo said. “The bouncers at the base of the stairs would be happy to ensure all your needs are taken care of. You could also find Ole’ Sampo at any time, and I’ll be sure to accommodate all your needs.”

“Thank you kindly,” Ashveil finished.

“Now, I won’t take up more of your time.” Sampo took a bow. “Enjoy your night here at Wildfire.”

And then he slipped away.

With a groan that was probably over-exaggerated, Ashveil took a seat directly beside Pearl on the couch. “Gut says he’s shady.”

“How astute,” Pearl flatly agreed.

“That’s comforting,” Sunday sardonically mused. “This trip will be shorter than I thought.”

Dan Heng watched as the amusement faded from Robin’s face, yet she didn’t make a comment. Exuberant as she may be, she certainly wasn’t stupid. “Please,” she eventually said. “Can we stay just a little bit?”

“That’s why we’re here, ain’t it?” Boothill spoke up. “So you’ll be safe no matter the situation. We’ll keep an eye on things so you can enjoy the evening.”

“Exactly,” Ashveil assured, leaning back in his seat. The illusion of confidence. “I was making an observation. It’s a little early to jump to conclusions just yet. For the moment, I say we observe the place before we take up the man’s suggestion and visit the bar.”

The tense set of Robin’s shoulders eased. “A fair proposition.”

Robin didn’t stay sitting still for long. Soon enough, she was leaning over the upper-floor railing, observing the rock band who was performing beside the DJ.

“Their improv is impressive,” Robin remarked. “They all play off each other really well, but it’s that lead guitarist who’s running things. She has good direction.”

“She’s got good taste.” Boothill agreed. “I like her style.”

“The music is only half the show,” Ashveil said. “Have you seen the bartenders? They’ve got some tricks up their sleeves.”

Pearl’s fan snapped shut, the usually sharp sound barely audible over the music. “A daring venture,” she remarked, siding up to Ashveil’s side, “considering how expensive those bottles would be if dropped.”

“Depends,” Ashveil returned. “Most of those bottles looked like they came from under the bar. They are less flashy with the top-shelf ones.”

“Your attention to detail is impressive.”

Ashveil preened. “I wouldn’t be head of Pearluxe Security if I lacked such a fundamental ability.”

Pearly simply hummed as she slid her hands over his elbow. Like a proper gentleman, he curled his arm. A proper escort.

Ashveil then turned to Robin. “Shall we go see what sort of show this bartender puts on for us? We’ve acted like vultures roosted on a perch long enough.”

Robin beamed. “We shall.”

It wasn’t all that long before they all found their way to the bar. Dan Heng thought they must have stood out like a sore thumb. The bodyguards might be in casual dress instead of the stiff suits they usually wore, but the way they moved was too uniform, too structured, to blend into the relaxed atmosphere of the club.  

Boothill leaned closer to Dan Heng. “Hey, which one is this “raccoon” that guy mentioned?”

Dan Heng scanned the handful of people behind the counter, his eyes coming to rest on one particular woman with a black stripe in her gray hair. Her heavy eye makeup was dark, a mimicry  of a raccoon’s mask. “My guess is that one.”

“You mean the most popular woman at the bar? Tch. Figures.”

“Do we just wait our turn?”

That got Boothill to bark a laugh. “Geez, Danny, this really ain’t yer scene. Don’t worry; I’ll handle it.”

Apparently Ashveil had the same idea. Between the two of them, they managed to clear a group of people, relieving three open barstools. It was enough for Robin, Sunday, and Madam Pearl, at least. Dan Heng had no problem standing behind. The four bodyguards made a decent shield that way.

With a smile a touch brighter than the average customer service one, the gray-haired bartender slid up to the group. “Wowza! We forgot to roll out the red carpet, didn’t we? Because if this isn’t a whole group of royalty, I don’t know what is.”

Robin giggled. “And here we were trying to keep it on the downlow.”

“Honey, even in the blinding lights in this bar, you are too radiant to even pretend you’re not drawing attention. What royal family are you related to?” She leaned over the bar, her hand to her ear. “I won’t tell. Shhhh.”

“The Royal Oak family, obviously,” Robin played along.

The bartender slapped her hand down, finally looking over Robin. “Okay, real talk because I swear my eyes are playing tricks on me: are you actually Robin or just one hell of a lookalike?”

“In the flesh.”

She let out a short squeak of excitement. “Hot dang. My sister-in-law’s gonna freak when I tell her! She loves you. But enough fangirling, what can I get the dazzling princess?”

“We were told by your ambassador that ‘Raccoon’ was the person to talk to for drinks. So if I have the right person, I should be the one asking you: what you recommend?”

Her brow furrowed. “Ambassador? We don’t have a—” Instantly, her mouth flattened. She threw a sassy look to the side. “Butterfly!” she hollered. “Did you know we had an ambassador?”

The girl off to the side, her hair shining purple and purple glitter on the corners of her eyes that fanned out like wings, also furrowed her brow. “We don’t have an—damn it, Luka! Why’d you let him in again?!”

Raccoon rolled her eyes, yet they landed back to Robin with glittering amusement. “Please ignore ‘Good Ole Sampo.’ He doesn’t work here, but he is harmless… mostly.”

Dan Heng’s brow furrowed. That was a tidbit he kept stored away. If he happened to see the man again, he’d probably face him with a piece of his mind.

“Mostly?” Ashveil subtly pressed.

“Don’t listen to him when he starts talking about bets. And I wouldn’t trust him to order drinks for you. However, of all the people you can trust with your drinks…” Raccoon took a step away from the bar to give a bow of her own. “I’m top of the list. If you’re looking for recommendations, look no further. Do you have something you’re in the mood for? A favorite profile? Or are you gonna put me to the ultimate test and make me roll off vibes alone?”

Robin hummed, elegantly placing her elbows on the counter so she could prop her chin on her hands. “It’s the beginning of the night; let’s have some fun. What impression do I give you?”

Racoon made an exaggerated motion of lament. “A test by the Miss Robin. I will never live it down if I fail.”

Yet she grabbed a shaker from under the bar, then a bottle from the shelf behind her. In one fluid motion, she tossed the bottle into the air, bouncing it off her elbow, then caught it backhanded after the bottle did a double twirl.

Okay, Dan Heng had to admit: that was impressive.

With effortless grace, Raccoon mixed a drink before pouring the shimmering pink concoction into a frilly glass and topping it with a sprig of mint.

“You may play the judge,” she said with a wink. “Am I in, or am I voted out?”

Robin took the glass, taking a delicate sip with a grin. “You’re in.”

“Yes!” She gave a fist pump, then lazily propped her hands against the bar. “I have the lady’s approval, so what can I get the rest of you?”

Sunday and Pearl gave their orders, each specific in what they wanted. Raccoon pulled out several fancy moves, flipping bottles or balancing two in her hand at once, as she served them.

“And now, for the fortress wall behind you,” she said with a wink in Dan Heng’s direction. “Don’t tell me all of you want water.”

“Exactly,” Dan Heng responded.

Only to get elbowed in the side by Boothill. “We’ll take a drink,” he said. “But only one. We gotta go easy tonight.”

“I can accept that. Then, who’s starting?”

“What ya got on tap?”

Soon enough, Boothill was holding a beer, Rappa some fruity mocktail, and Ashveil sipping something with tequila. Top shelf, upon Pearl’s insistence. “If you’re going to get one drink,” she remarked. “It better be worth it.”

“It pays being a trophy husband,” he muttered, his lips curled in a lopsided smirk as he took the drink.

Pearl strategically ignored his teasing, but if Dan Heng looked hard enough, he could see the beginnings of a grin curl her lips as Ashveil laid a hand on her shoulder.

“That just leaves you, Mr. Straight And Narrow,” Raccoon teased, her posture playful. “What can I get for you?”

Before Dan Heng could answer, Boothill leaned forward. “Do another test: What do you think is going to loosen him up?”

Dan Heng had half a mind to object. Except he couldn’t do that when his whole crew began egging Raccoon on. In the end, there was nothing he could do but sigh in defeat. “It seems… my drink has been decided for me.”

A mischievous twinkle lit her eye. “Hmmm. Then what vibes do I get from you?” Her impish tone was emphasized by the wiggle of her shoulders.

Unable to stand her intense gaze—he didn’t know why, but the awkwardness hit him harder than a double shot of strong alcohol could—his gaze dipped, allowing him to catch sight of the tattoo below her collarbone that was fully exposed thanks to the cut of her black tanktop. He probably stared a little longer than he should have before good sense demanded he stop staring at her chest.

She didn’t give any indication as to if she noticed or not. She simply scanned the long shelf of bottles before grabbing a dark green one with a stopper instead of a pour spout. Her trick this time: to suddenly yank the bottle downwards, the stopper hovering midair before she snatched it. She poured the booze into a small glass before pushing it toward him.

He eyed the drink before he realized. “Sake.”

“Straight.” She tossed the stopper in the air, managing to catch it with the mouth of the bottle. She must have practiced that move countless times to get it correct. “Simple. No fuss; no frills. Even a place like this doesn’t change the equation for you. Am I wrong?”

Despite himself, the corner of his lip twitched upwards. “No.”

She flashed him a knowing smile and a flirty wink. “And that’s why I’m the best.”

“Cheers, everyone!” Robin cried, hoisting her drink into the air.

They played along, clinking their glasses together. Dan Heng then tasted the sake, letting it roll over his tongue before swallowing. It was good sake, too. His one drink he’d allow himself tonight was not wasted.

Robin soon struck up a short conversation with Raccoon, one that ended with a penned signature on a napkin before Raccoon moved on to the next customers.

When the drinks were empty, Robin grabbed hold of Rappa’s hand and dragged her to the dance floor, Sunday’s protests being quickly drowned out. Laughing all the while, Boothill followed, close enough to get to Robin if need be while giving the two girls enough space to enjoy themselves.

While Pearl and Sunday spoke of returning to the upper lounge, Ashveil slid a handful of bills across the bar to a passing Raccoon. “Can you send a bottle of champagne up to the lounge?”

She took the bills, slipping them into the small apron around her waist without looking. “Absolutely. Closing out the bill for you after this?”

“Please.”

“And receipt,” Pearl mentioned.

Raccoon gave her a fingergun. “You got it.”

“Keep the change,” Ashveil finished. “As thanks for the show. But inquiring minds want to know: how long did it take ya to learn those tricks?”

“Let’s just say I had a lot of time on my hands in my teenage years.”

“I’d say. It shows.”

Raccoon gave a flashy bow. “It worked in my favor.” With a grin, she moved on yet again, this time to the cash register.

Ashveil then turned to Dan Heng. “Daniel, I’ll take Sunday and Pearl back up to the lounge, but you mind lingering down here?”

“Of course.”

After giving Dan Heng a hearty pat on the shoulder, Ashveil guided Sunday and Pearl back upstairs.

“And then there was one,” Raccoon remarked. She then patted the bar, indicating the newly freed seat.

“I don’t want to take the seat from your customers.”

“Please do,” Raccoon said. “Means I get a smidgen of a breather if there’s one seat I don’t have to attend to.”

Dan Heng glanced at it just a moment before taking it. He’d try to appear nonchalant, a casual observer instead of a hired guard. Anything that didn’t make him stand out like a sore thumb.

Instead, that seat stuck him next to a group of men who approached the bar, smelling more strongly of booze than the bar itself. Though Dan Heng should have kept his eyes on the trio on the dance floor, they kept flitting back to their impish bartender. Raccoon’s smile never faltered, even as the clearly drunk men made increasingly obvious and somewhat raunchy passes at her. She pulled out even more tricks, causing the men to clap and holler like monkeys.

When Raccoon was finished with her show, the men were practically throwing money her direction. But then she excused herself, much to their dismay.

“See?” one of the guys said. “Told ya the girl with the good honkers was the best.”

Dan Heng didn’t need to get involved. He didn’t. He needed to focus on the dance floor, on the fact that Boothill was now swinging a giggling Robin around. But when the guy walked past… well, it was so easy to stick out his leg ever so slightly and send the guy crashing to the floor. Glass shattered, his drink going everywhere. And he just stayed there, too stunned to get up while all his friends practically fell over themselves laughing.

It wasn’t long before someone in a suit and a red armband appeared, followed by a second man when the first failed to accomplish anything. When negotiations broke down entirely, the duo efficiently escorted the loudly protesting men from the bar.

“Don’t think I didn’t see that.”

Dan Heng glanced over, noting Raccoon had snuck up behind him. Her smile matched her tone: amused. “See what?”

“You know what,” she said, lightly tapping his shoulder with her fist. “Thanks. I needed a reason to kick them out.”

“I never would have guessed, considering the impressive show you gave them.”

“Well, yeah. Much as I wanted them gone, it’s also easy to rake idiots over the coals for tips when they’re drunk as a skunk.”

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it. That doesn’t give them the right to objectify you, though.”

When she sighed, Dan Heng swore he heard the undercurrent of exhaustion. “Not like I’m not used to it,” she muttered.

“You shouldn’t have to be.”

She just shrugged. “What’s a girl supposed to do? There’s a fine line between making yourself hot enough to rack up good tips and not completely objectifying yourself.” She then sighed dramatically, then threw on a too-bright smile she clearly didn’t feel as she slapped her hands on the counter. “But enough of that. Can I toss another cup of sake your way as thanks for making my night?”

“I had my one cup. I need to stay sharp.”

She huffed, her customer service smile turning to a lopsided grin. “Maybe you should go dance with the others out there. Get you to loosen up and enjoy yourself a bit.”

“This isn’t my scene.”

“Who could have possibly guessed,” she sarcastically drawled. “Gonna take a shot in the dark: you’re the kind to only dance with your girlfriend. That is… if you even have one of those.”

He shook his head.

“Single as a pringle?” she prodded. “Hmmm… then I’ll bet twenty bucks you’re the kind who’s been so stuck up you haven’t gone on a single date. Probably haven’t even had your first kiss.”

His world froze for a moment as his mind flashed back to a different gray-haired girl, one who’d insisted Draco would have saved the falling princess. Then a kiss so sweet that desserts now tasted bland. He pursed his lips. “Then you’ll find yourself in debt twenty dollars.”

“Oh?” She leaned over the bar, head in her hands in a theatrically interested gesture. “So the strong, silent type did sway a girl. High school sweetheart? Or steamy college romance?”

He shook his head.

“Workplace fraternization then? Scandalous.”

Again, he shook his head. “Someone I knew long… long ago.”

She paused. “Childhood crush?”

“You could say that.”

Straightening, she gave a huff. “Easy there, you poor lovesick puppy. So, what happened to her?”

That’s what he wanted to know. As a teen, he’d avoided looking into his family, simply because it made him so anxious. It summoned images of fire, the sounds of gunshots ringing in his ears. Finally, when he turned eighteen, he’d gotten brave enough to push past the vivid flashbacks and started searching for his family again. Alas, all his leads turned up dry.

“I wish I knew,” he finally said, standing up when he noticed Robin and Boothill moving away from the dance floor. “But she liked Draco, too.”

“What?”

He pointed to her tattoo. “The constellation.”

She glanced down, as though catching sight of her tattoo for the first time. “She has good taste.”

With a nod, Dan Heng followed the others back up to the lounge.

“Hey.”

He turned around.

For once, Raccoon’s expression was sincere. Almost… wistful. “For what it’s worth, I hope you find her.”

After thirteen years, Dan Heng should really let her go by now, but there was a part of him that just couldn’t. To him, she wasn’t just a childhood crush; she’d been a piece of his heart. All he wanted was to find it again; to have an answer, instead of living with that hole. “Thank you.”

[thenovelartist]

I made some fanart for you on my blog. Do you like it?

It's awesome! :D I'm honored you enjoyed them so much as to draw them out.

It's also fun to see how you took inspiration from the March/Caelus kids and translated them into new versions for Caefly and SunMarch kids. I definitely ship those ships more now than back when I originally wrote Life After Destruction, so it's cool to see the new renditions.

[thenovelartist]

By Any Other Name - Chapter 3

<<Previous Next>>

Dan Heng didn’t know what to think when there was a knock on the front door. All he knew was that dinner was getting cold and that Mom had said she’d be back by now. Even though Dan Heng had called twice, she wasn’t picking up her phone. Then again, it wasn’t uncommon for Mom to get lost in her work from time to time.

“I’ll get it,” Dad told him. “Go ahead and serve yourselves first.”

“You think Mom got stuck working on a cool plane again?” Bailu asked, already reaching for the rice.

“Probably,” Dan Heng said, dishing out a side of pickled veggies on Bailu’s plate.

“Ugh! That’s too much!”

“They’re good for you.”

Bailu’s cheeks puffed as she pouted.

He added a few more on top just to tease her.

“Okay, okay!” she cried, quickly covering her plate with her hands.

Amused, Dan Heng served up his own meal, then filled his dad’s plate.

That done, they each looked in the direction of the door, but Dad had yet to return.

“Uhh.” Hesitantly, Bailu reached for her chopsticks. “Do you think it’s okay to start without him?”

Brow furrowed, Dan Heng stood. “I’ll go check.”

He headed to the front door, only to see it was closed. He could hear voices from the outside. Maybe Dad was talking to the neighbors?

Not wanting to intrude if it was something important, Dan Heng went back to the table. “I… guess we can start without him.”

But the minutes ticked on. A quarter of his plate was cleared, and Dad still hadn’t returned. Even Bailu had slowed her fast eating pace. She gave Dan Heng a confused glance. “Dad should have been back by now… right?”

Right as Dan Heng was about to suggest they go check again, the sound of the front door closing echoed through the house. They both set their chopsticks down right as Dad entered the dining room. One look at Dad’s expression and Dan Heng knew: something was wrong.

“Dad?” he tentatively asked.

With a shaky sigh, Dad knelt on the floor. With a curl of his fingers, he beckoned them close.

Dan Heng’s gut sank to the floor. He didn’t like this at all.

“Is something wrong?” Bailu meekly asked.

The hand Dad set on Dan Heng’s shoulder felt weak and frail. “Dan Heng, Bailu… your mother’s plane crashed.” Shakily, he took a deep breath. “Your mom… died.”

Every moment that followed was hazy. Dan Heng knew every individual word Dad said, and yet, when combined together, he couldn’t process them. Not a single one. What was that supposed to mean that Mom… was dead?

About the time that Dan Heng finally put that sentence together in his mind, Bailu’s scream-sobs soon rent the house. Mom wasn’t coming home. Mom was gone.

Forever.

He fell backwards, hitting the ground before he realized his knees went out. Then an arm pulled him in, his chest now pressed against Dad’s shoulder and his shoulder against Bailu’s. Dan Heng only remembered the first tear that fell; he didn’t remember anything after that.

When the world cleared up again, Stelle was there with Caelus and Uncle Yingxing and Aunt Kafka. It’s Stelle who reached him before Caelus could even come close, and that’s fine by Dan Heng because the way Stelle held him kept him grounded to reality, even if only for a few moments.

His cousins stayed all night until morning. They had suggested pushing the futons together and all lying in a row: Stelle, then Bailu; Dan Heng, then Caelus. Bailu had been the first to fall asleep, having cried herself out. Caelus had been next, followed by Stelle. Dan Heng was sure he wasn’t going to join them.

Yet, he found himself waking up.

He didn’t have a clue how he fell asleep. He couldn’t fathom how such a thing was possible. All he knew was that there was a hand in his. Stelle. Her arm was draped over Bailu, cuddling his sister while also holding Dan Heng.

He squeezed her hand. Not because she was his girlfriend, but because she was important and she was here when he needed her the most. He hoped she always was.

You’re not allowed to leave me, either. He thought, watching as her bleary eyes cracked open. I couldn’t stand losing you. Any of you… but you in particular.

~~

Within days, his whole family had appeared. Despite not living anywhere close together any longer, they had all gathered on surprisingly short notice. With each member that appeared—Uncle Jing Yuan, Aunt Jingliu, Yanqing; even Mr. Jiaoqiu, Mrs. Feixiao, and Moze—Dan Heng and Bailu were given another hug, another round of condolences.

And with every guest, another few tears were shed.

Dan Heng hardly slept, and when he did, it was only because his body physically gave out from exhaustion. No longer able to tolerate lying in bed all night until he passed out—if he did at all— he’d begun wandering around the house, but he paused when he heard several people talking.

“They’re onto us.” That was Dad’s voice.

“We figured they were,” Jing Yuan spoke, surprisingly somber. “I just… didn’t realize they were still out to kill us after all these years.”

“Don’t be shocked.” Aunt Jingliu’s voice was the coldest ice in the universe. “They’ve wanted revenge ever since we took them down. We should have been even more careful since they announced their revival with that maddening firework display two years back.”

“What are you doing up?”

Dan Heng just about jumped from his skin when Stelle appeared behind him. All he could do was cover her mouth and put a finger to his lips, silently warning her to be quiet.

“We thought we were,” Uncle Yingxing said. “We were forced to accept our defeat, to hand over our positions to others for the kids’ sake. If it was just us, then we could reconvene, still be fighting…” He sighed. “But the kids don’t need to be dragged into this.”

Having heard her dad’s morose words, Stelle got the message by now. Pulling his hand away from her mouth, she leaned close against him, trying to eavesdrop as much as he was.

“They have been ever since they were born,” Dad finished. “And we didn’t realize the danger until far too late.”

“Sactus Medicus are going to come after all of us,” Aunt Jingliu spat. “Even the kids. Baiheng was just the beginning. They won’t stop until all of our heads are on a pike.”

“Jingliu,” Uncle Jing Yuan warned.

“No, she’s right,” Yingxing continued. “We need to start making preparations, or it won’t be us that are next. It will be the kids.”

Dan Heng didn’t know what exactly they were talking about, but his stomach churned in an uneasy manner. He took a step back, pressing close to Stelle.

She followed his lead, pulling him back in retreat.

Once they were far enough away, he asked in a whisper, “What are you doing up?”

She shrugged. “Woke up to get some water.”

Dan Heng just sighed. “Let’s keep that a secret. Just for now.”

“Got it.”

When they reached Dan Heng’s room, he paused. Caelus, Yanqing, and Moze were all sleeping soundly inside, and he didn’t want to wake them.

Sensing his hesitation, Stelle took his hand in hers. “Come.”

Stealthily as they could, they slipped through Bailu’s room to the window, only for Stelle to push it open. Just like the window in his room, this window had a wide ledge with a planter box that gave just enough footing to climb up onto the roof. Dan Heng followed her up, the cool spring air feeling more like that of winter tonight. When Stelle plopped down onto the shingles, she patted the spot next to him.

He took the invitation, collapsing down beside her. He half expected her to talk. Instead, she just rested her head on his shoulder.

It wasn’t like her to stay silent, but he didn’t know what to say in this moment, either. Furthermore, he didn’t want to break this brief moment of peace. So instead, he rested his head on top of hers and simply let the sounds of the night roll on.

~~  

If sleep was eluding him now, it only got worse in the following days. Nightmares of his death tormented him every time Dan Heng managed to close his eyes. The final nail in the insomnia coffin was one day before the funeral, when his father called him and Bailu into the living room.

“Do you remember,” Dad said. “When Mom and I used to tell you old stories about how we used to hunt criminals?”

Dan Heng swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Well… just like it wasn’t safe for us back then, it’s not safe for any of us now.” Dad then reached out, laying a hand on both Dan Heng’s shoulder and another on Bailu’s cheek. “You don’t have to worry, because I will protect you, along with Uncle Jing Yuan, Aunt Jingliu, Uncle Yingxing, and Aunt Kafka. Most importantly, I don’t want you to think you are responsible for anything bad that happens, okay? It’s our job to make sure you are safe and protected.” He looked pointedly at Dan Heng. “It’s not yours.”

Dan Heng’s gaze hit the floor, uncertain how to process his dad’s words. What did he mean it wasn’t his job? Dan Heng was the oldest, and he needed to make sure Bailu was safe. That all his cousins were safe. That Stelle was safe. That was what it meant to be her boyfriend, right?

“Dan Heng.”

He looked back up at his dad.

“It’s our job.”

Pursing his lips, Dan Heng relented with a nod. “Okay.”

Dad sighed. “But that said… I need you two to listen to our instructions very carefully. That’s how we can keep you safe. I don’t want either of you to get hurt. For example, if I tell you to come straight home from school, I need you two to do just that. Am I clear?”

“Understood,” Dan Heng said.

Bailu hesitated, yet agreed. “O-okay.”

“And most importantly,” Dad looked Bailu in the eye. “If I ever tell you to run—” Dad looked straight into Dan Heng’s eye with the intensity of a dragon. “—then run.”

Dan Heng’s mouth went dry.

Dad then pulled both Dan Heng and Bailu in for a hug. “I love both of you. So much.”

“I love you, too, Daddy.” Bailu whimpered.

Dan Heng hugged his dad back. It wasn’t common for Dad to show this level of affection, but Dan Heng didn’t want to turn it away, particularly given the heavy mood that sent his gut plummetting to the floor. “I… love you, too.”

~~

Dan Heng overheard that they weren’t able to salvage Mom’s body. He’s certain he wasn’t meant to overhear, but he did. It explained why there were only some ashes in an ornate urn underneath a picture of her.

In Dan Heng’s opinion, that urn was the ugliest thing known to man.

Throughout the entire day of the funeral, Stelle was by his side. If she wasn’t holding his hand, she was holding Bailu’s. Regardless, she never left his sight. That was enough for him.

When the service was over, Dan Heng knew he needed to stand by his dad and thank all the people for coming. He needed to be strong and brave and and and…

His dad patted him on the head. “You don’t have to stay. We rented that room for a reason.”

Dan Heng looked up to him, panic tearing his stomach apart. “But—”

“Your mother wouldn’t fault you for leaving.” His dad’s tone was quiet but firm. “Go rest with Bailu and your cousins.”

Dan Heng’s gaze hit the floor, his fists clenching. At this rate, he was going to rip his palms open with his fingernails. Not that he cared. He was sure bleeding wouldn’t hurt as much as this all did, anyway.

Yet, someone came up to his side, grabbing one of his fists and prying it apart just enough to slip a hand inside.

Stelle.

Her touch grounded him, bringing a peace to his harsh reality. Slowly, he unclenched his other hand.

“I’ll take care of him,” Stelle assured. If his head wasn’t such a mess, he’d marvel more over why her usually jovial, teasing tone sounded so mature in that moment. Instead, all he could do was cave to the instinctual desire to hide with the one thing that still felt solid and secure.

She wrapped another hand around his arm, using the newfound leverage to pull him along. “Let’s go.”

Dan Heng could do nothing but follow her lead.

Before they could even make it to the elevator, they were stopped by two people Dan Heng was only vaguely familiar with. Well, he supposed Stelle was familiar with them, too.  

“Dan Heng.”

“Mr. Yang,” Dan Heng greeted, “Miss Himeko.”

Himeko’s brow was pinched in sympathy. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

“We both are,” Mr. Yang agreed. “It should never have happened.”

No, it shouldn’t have. None of this should be happening. Why was it his mom? Why her? Just… why? “Thank you.”

Mr. Yang rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. “Hang in there,” he whispered. “And if you need anything, Himeko and I are happy to help.”

At that point, the emotions were growing too much. All Dan Heng could do was nod.

How he got to the hotel room, he didn’t know. He didn’t even register that Bailu and Yanqing were already there. He just sat down and leaned on Stelle’s shoulder, letting her stroke his hair and rub his back until the urge to cry had passed.

But that didn’t happen for a very long time.

~~

Eventually, Uncle Yingxing and Aunt Kafka came to tell Caelus and Stelle that it was time to go home.

Stelle gave Dan Heng one last embrace. “You’ve got this,” she whispered encouragingly as she clung on tight.

He clung back. “Thanks, Stelle.”

When they left, Dan Heng expected Uncle Yingxing to follow them. Instead, Uncle Yingxing lingered. “You should all eat something.”

Dad sighed, collapsing on the edge of the bed and hanging his head a moment. Yet, he picked it up to look between Bailu and Dan Heng. “Are either of you hungry?”

Dan Heng shook his head. “No.”

Shyly, Bailu kicked her feet as she stared at the floor. “Maybe a little.”

“At least there’s one of you,” Yingxing muttered. “I can go get something for you.”

“I can manage,” Dad said.

“I’m coming with either way. I don’t trust you not to skip another meal.”

“Another?”

“You can’t tell me you’ve been eating properly.”

To that, Dad had no answer.

Dan Heng would say nothing. He wasn’t going to rat his dad out, especially when food hadn’t been sitting well with him, either.

Yingxing sighed. “Fine then. Wait here. There’s a place across the street the twins like. I’ll get something for you there.”

Dad scoffed, his lips twisting into a bitter smirk. “You’re insufferable.”

“On the contrary,” Uncle Yingxing reached for the door. “You are the insufferable one. But then again… you have every right to be.”

~~

Before coming to this funeral, Dan Heng had packed his backpack with a book to read and a few things for Bailu. Yet, he barely managed a few pages before Uncle Yingxing brought noodles for them to eat.

Dan Heng marked his page with the bookmark Stelle had given him, then sat down with his family to attempt to eat something. He must have underestimated how hungry he was, because soon enough, he was staring at an empty bowl.

Feeling slightly less crabby after some food and rest, Dan Heng and Bailu followed their dad down to the car. For once, Dan Heng was ready to go back home and attempt to sleep. It would likely be a fool’s errand, but he was not against trying tonight.

Opening his backpack, he pulled out his book. The little light his mom had given him would be enough to read by. Yet, when he opened the book, what he saw wasn’t the words on the page but the photostrip of him and Stelle. He turned it over, reading the “Together Forever” she’d written on the back. His lips pursed as he looked at the words, letting them burn into his head. He didn’t normally carry it around with him, but he’d specifically slid it into this book today as a reminder that he wasn’t alone.

The car then jolted to the side.

“Shit!” Dad spat. “You okay, kids?”

Dan Heng snapped his book shut and slammed it in his backpack. “Fine.”

“What happened?!” Bailu cried.

Without warning, the car jolted backwards.

“Get down!”

At Dad’s command, Dan Heng braced himself against the front seat.

Right in time for the deafening gunshots to ring through the air, shattering the car windows.

Bailu screamed as glass rained down on them. Dan Heng’s stomach lurched right as the car started accelerating backwards. Only for them to come to a sudden halt as they crashed into something.

“Dammit,” Dad grumbled.

Dan Heng dared to pick his head up right in time to watch Dad pull a gun from under his shirt.

“Kids, do you remember Jingliu and Jing Yuan's room numbers?”

“Dad,” Bailu cried. “What—”

“Do. You. Remember?”

Dan Heng swallowed thickly. “Y-yeah.”

“Run.”

His mind shut off at that point, his heart racing a million miles an hour. Acting on instinct, Dan Heng slung his backpack over his shoulder with one hand and grabbed Bailu’s hand with the other. He reached for the door handle, but three more gunshots had him ducking.

And there were two much louder ones. “Go!” Dad shouted.

Dan Heng threw open the door. The moment his feet hit the pavement, he yanked Bailu out of the car and ran. Back to the hotel. Back to—

Boom!

Dan Heng skidded to a stop, Bailu smacking into his back. With no small amount of horror and disbelief, Dan Heng watched as fire clouds billowed out of three particular hotel windows.

The world somehow went quiet after that. Dan Heng could barely hear a thing as he sat frozen on the pavement. The orange glow of the flames, the plumes of gray smoke: those he remembered with perfect clarity. The sounds… he might as well have been holding his head underwater.

Suddenly, his mind clicked into gear. Focus! He had to do something. Anything.

That’s when he noticed a figure looming in front of the building. One backlit in a hazy warm glow. However, as that figure approached, his body started screaming as if he’d just plunged into ice water.

Get up. Get up. Get up!

He scrambled to his feet, yanking Bailu to hers. He didn’t even think. He simply ran in the direction that put both Taoran and the car wreck at his back. There was no thought of where he was supposed to go in his mind. There was only one demand: run, and don’t stop.

Behind him, Bailu tripped, almost dragging him down with him.

“Come on!” he shouted, pulling her back to her feet.

“Too fast!” she cried.

Yet he kept dragging her along. He had to keep moving. They couldn’t stop. Because Dan Heng knew—he just knew—if they stopped, they would die.

Bang!

That gunshot echoed all too loudly in Dan Heng’s ringing ears. It almost caused him to stumble.

It did cause Bailu to trip.

Unbalanced, she dragged him down with her, and his knees hit the pavement hard. He scrambled to lift his head up, his eyes locking on the fast-approaching Taoran who had a gun out and aimed at them.

Bang, bang, bang!

Dan Heng threw himself over Bailu, who screamed as she slapped her hands over her ears.

And yet, it was Taoran who fell.

“Kids!”

That shout sounded so far off, like someone was shouting for him under the ocean waves. All he could hear in his ears was his own heartbeat.

“Dan Heng! Bailu!”

And then a touch on his back instantly yanked him back to reality.

With a gasp, Dan Heng whipped around, coming eye to eye with a woman with long red hair.

“You have to get up,” Himeko directed. “We have to go.”

Even though Dan Heng could barely hear her, he knew what her demands were when she grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. His entire body felt like jelly. How he was able to stand was a mystery.

Like two lost puppies, Dan Heng and Bailu followed Himeko out of the hotel parking lot. Around the bend was a red car parked on a nearby street with another familiar figure standing next to it.

“Kids!” Mr. Yang hurried up to them. Looking back, Dan Heng would realize that both Mr. Yang and himeko had weapons drawn and hovering at their sides, but none of these details registered in his head now. “In the car, now.”

“Dad!” Bailu said. “Where’s Dad?”

“Just get in the car,” Mr Yang directed, already pushing Bailu toward the car. “We’ll find your dad later.”

Dan Heng didn’t need to be told twice. When Mr. Yang yanked open the door, Dan Heng shoved Bailu in the car first before sliding inside.

“Keep your heads down,” Mr. Yang instructed before slamming the car door shut.

They did. Bailu curled into the tiniest ball she could, which made the already smaller-than-average girl even smaller. Dan Heng did the same, throwing his hands over his head as he tried to duck out of sight of the windows.

Dan Heng didn’t know how many heartbeats had passed. Probably a hundred, but it also was a terrible way to track the time considering how fast his heart was pounding. It never came to mind that he could have been counting the seconds ticking by, but with each one feeling like a minute, his count probably would have been wildly inaccurate.

Finally, the door opened.

Dan Heng somehow ducked lower, his eyes squinting shut as though waiting for a hit to come.

But it never did.

Three ragged breaths later, Dan Heng looked up just in time to watch Himeko slamming the passenger door shut just as Mr. Yang slammed the keys into the ignition.

The engine turned over, the car roaring to life before it roared out of the parking spot.

Dan Heng’s mind clicked back into gear at that moment, even though it was on the slowest one possible. “Dad?” he asked, the word rolling off his tongue before he could think the better of it.

The car suddenly accelerated.

“Wait!” Bailu said, finally popping her own head up. “Where’s Dad?”

Miss Himeko turned around, her face barely readable in the speckled streetlight coming through the windows. “Kids,” she said, her voice shockingly calm. “I need you to put your seatbelts on. Can you do that for me?”

Dan Heng must have fumbled three times with the buckle before he clicked it into the latch. It took Bailu five tries to do the same thing, and it was only because Dan Heng reached over to help her.

“Listen to me,” Himeko said. “We have to leave. Everything is going to be alright; Mr. Yang and I will protect you. But…” Even in the low, constantly shifting light, Dan Heng noticed her grimace.

Taking a breath, Himeko reached out, resting a hand on Bailu’s knee.

Somehow, Dan Heng knew what she was going to say before she even said it.

“Kids… I’m so sorry. Your dad is dead.”

~~

It would take a very long hour for everything to finally hit Dan Heng. After they’d arrived at the private airport. After Himeko began checking the engine of the Astral Express. After Mr. Yang helped both Dan Heng and Bailu board the plane. After Dan Heng collapsed in a seat and struggled to get the seatbelt buckled. All at once, it hit him like a train.

On his thirteenth birthday, Uncle Jing Yuan had said this was when he’d become a real man.

So why was the only thing he could do cry like a lost child?

~~

Stelle didn’t want to disrespect the dead, but today sucked more than any other day in existence. She knew she couldn’t fix anything for Dan Heng or Bailu. If there was any way to bring their mom back, to bring her aunt back, Stelle would do it. But there wasn’t anything to be done other than give out all the hugs and support she had to give and then keep giving more.

She wanted to think she was a help in that way. Hopefully. Because if she wasn’t… then what else was she supposed to do?!

When they’d gotten back from the funeral, Mom had made them a small dinner. Not that Stelle or Caelus were nearly as hungry as usual, but they did get down the boxed macaroni and premade chicken tenders Mom had thrown together.

“Don’t tell your father I made this,” she’d remarked, eating her own small portion. “He thought he threw out all the pre-boxed stuff.”

Dad always called this mean ‘lazy and unappetizing’, but Mom occasionally pulled it out when she simply didn’t feel like cooking. The only time Dad had ever made this meal was when the twins were sick with the stomach bug a few years back and this was the only thing that they didn’t immediately throw back up.

Maybe Dad would let it slide this time, too. For the same reason. Well, not stomach bug, but it sure felt like she had something because why else would her stomach be in knots?

Stelle managed to swallow her last bite of dinner when Dad suddenly flew into the house. “Everyone, downstairs. Now.”

There was something in Dad’s tone that immediately set Stelle on edge. She popped up out of her chair, following Caelus to the stairs that led to the basement. The telltale clack of Dad loading his shotgun reached her ears, and Stelle whipped around to see Dad had pulled the weapon from its hiding spot in the kitchen.

Just like when she had the stomach bug, Stelle wondered if she was going to be able to keep down dinner at all.

Once in the basement, Mom slipped past both Stelle and Caelus to the corner where she hid her gun safe. She unlocked it at rapid speed and pulled out two pistols, one of them making its way into her back waistband.

“Kids,” she said, her eyes hard as she turned toward them. “You know what to do. We’ve practiced this.”

Stelle’s hands were shaking.

“Show me. Hurry.”

The world seemed to narrow, her brain only taking in what was immediately in front of her. Heart in her throat, Stelle grabbed one of the remaining pistols from the safe, loaded it, and racked it, muzzle toward the ground. Her finger was positioned off the trigger, a habit that her mom had spent years drilling into her head. Finally, she understood why: her hands were shaking so bad she was apt to pull it even if she didn’t mean to.

Caelus was right behind her, going through the same motions.

“Good. Get into po—”

Bang bang!

Stelle practically jumped from her skin upon hearing Dad’s shotgun go off.

“Damn it,” Mom muttered. “Positions, now.”

Stelle felt numb as she and Caelus each took cover, ducking behind strategic zones built specifically for them to have the advantage.

“Stay here,” Mom said, marching up the stairs. “And don’t shoot me or your father.”

And then she was gone.

Bang Bang Bang!

The world consisted of only one spot in front of her, her gaze narrowed on the stairs. It took ages for Stelle to mentally run through every ounce of training Mom had ever put them through. Of going to the range and practicing how to clear a house, of how to shoot a foe and not a friendly. She remembers the adrenaline rush from those moments, but her heart hadn’t ever been pounding this hard.

Breathe, she tried to remind herself. Mama said to breathe.

In, out. In, out. Full breaths, with her chest.

But with each gunshot she heard upstairs, all her work went flying out the window. Each time she flinched, her hands tightened on her gun, and her breathing turned shallow.

She started counting the seconds between gunshots. It was impossible to say she was accurately counting time. It was more something to keep her mind functioning so it didn’t leave her. By the time she managed to count all the way to a hundred, she finally, finally heard something other than gunfire.

“Three of a kind,” Dad called down.

“Two pair,” the twins call out in automatic response to the “all-clear” signal.

“Ace,” Mama finished, right as she started down the stairs, Dad hot on her heels.

As Stelle carefully stood up from her crouched hiding position, she kept her gun aimed at the ground despite the fact she wanted it completely out of her hands. Stelle didn’t know if Mom read her mind or what, but she took the gun from both her and Caelus. In the blink of an eye, Dad has an arm wrapped around both of them, yanking them in for a hug.

Stelle clings to him. If she lets go, she might hit the ground.

“You two okay?” he asked.

“What was that?” Caelus questioned, his voice shaking. He’s braver than she is, Stelle thought. She didn’t trust her voice at all right now.

“We’re going to have to leave,” Dad simply said. “Remember half-hour pack? Go.”

Her mind was swirling. Half-hour pack? What did that have to do with anything? “But—”

“Now,” Dad simply insisted. He pushed them toward the stairs, leading them up out of the basement before giving them a smack on the back. ‘To your rooms,’ it seemed to say.

It was enough to start Stelle off running.

She yanked a duffle bag out of the closet. Clothes. Right, clothes first. She rolled them up as tight as possible to cram as many into the bag as she could. Bathroom next. Brush, soap, toothbrush; all those things got thrown into a little plastic bag and shoved into the top of the duffle.

“Kids!” Mom shouted. “Done?”

What? No way, that wasn’t thirty minutes. It couldn’t be!

Yet, Stelle looked at her back, running through her mental checklist of clothes and toiletries and—

Her pearl.

She snatched it from its hiding spot and shoved it deep within her bag. Finally, she realized why Mom had always mentioned not coming back. She wasn’t joking. Not once. Right now, Stelle felt like she wasn’t going to see this place ever again.

And she kinda didn’t want to.

Throwing the duffle bag strap over her shoulder, she hustled from the room. She was behind Caelus as they made their way into the living room, only to be greeted with the sight of Mom and Dad talking to a man with pure white hair and the eeriest blue eyes Stelle had ever seen.

Stelle froze in place when those eyes turned to her.

“They’ve grown so much,” the man said.

“Kids,” Mom said. “Come here, and be mindful of the glass.”

As Stelle hesitantly approached, she finally spared a glance around the room. Half of the windows were blown out, the glass littering the floor, the chairs, the tables. There were holes in some of the walls, too, causing Stelle to do a double-take. It looked like a scene out of an action movie.

She was never going to be able to watch those movies the same way again.

“You don’t remember Elio,” Mom said as Stelle sidled up to her. “But he’s an… old friend. He’s here to help us out.”

“I’ve got a van they won’t recognize,” Elio spoke, his tone infuriatingly even and calm. “Come.”

They marched through the tattered hallways of what was once home, following the man out of the house and to a nondescript white van that every parent warns their children against ever getting near. Yet, at Mom and Dad’s commands, Stelle and Caelus loaded up, dropping their bags on the floor while Dad slid the door shut.

For a long moment, everyone is silent as Elio started up the engine and drove. Eventually, Caelus is the one with the wherewithal to ask, “What was that?”

Dad heaved a sigh. “Do you remember all the stories I used to tell you about Sacntus Medicus?”

Sactus Medicus. The cult Dad and Mom used to hunt with all their aunts and uncles. Mom loved telling those stories of how she met Dad and fell in love with him amidst the chaos. Stelle always liked those stories, too. They always felt so romantic. At least they were better than most of the romance novels her friends at school fangirled over.

“Yeah,” Stelle said.

Dad rubbed a tired hand down his face. “They reemerged, and now, they want revenge on the people who arrested them in the first place. Which includes me, your mother, and all your aunts and uncles.”

“But,” Mom continued, taking over for Dad. Her voice was notably steadier. “That also means they will hurt you as collateral. You are in as much danger as your father and I are.”

Stelle’s stomach was churning. Never had she gotten carsick, but today might be a first.

“Listen.” Mom was using her sweet voice, the one that always made Stelle feel safe. This was the first time that voice felt almost too calm, to the point of being eerie. “I know it’s scary and overwhelming, but we will do everything in our power to protect you.”

With a sharp inhale, Dad continued, “Just know things are going to have to change. I wish they didn’t. From now on, I need you to listen to me and your mother very, very carefully. Understand?”

Stelle swallowed the lump in her throat. “Okay.”

~~

They’d driven most of the night, only stopping at a dumpy little motel sometime in the ungodly hours of the morning. It didn’t matter that she had to share the hard mattress with Caelus; by the time Stelle hit the bed, she was out like a light and didn’t wake until just before noon. It was lunchtime when Dad and Mom had finally taken her and her equally groggy twin to go get breakfast.

And then they were back in the white van.

“I know this will be a lot to take in,” Mom began. “But from now on, we are no longer going to use our names.”

Stelle blinked. She’d ask for elaboration, but her mouth was full of food at the moment.

“You know those cop shows we used to watch?” Mom thankfully continued. “Where people would go under witness protection? That’s what we’re going to do.”

“I am an expert of rewriting destinies,” Elio spoke from the front. “And that’s what I will do for all of you.”

Stelle finally managed to swallow her food. “Are you going to do the same to everyone else?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Caelus chimed in. “Like… we won’t be able to call Uncle Dan Feng ‘Uncle Dan Feng’ anymore?”

The van went silent. Dead silent.

Stelle’s stomach churned, insisting her breakfast was going to make a sudden reappearance. Keep it down, she demanded, pressing a fist to her mouth. Still, she set down her sandwich, unable to so much as look at it at the moment.

“Kids,” Dad started. Stelle did not like the tone he used. “Uncle Dan Feng is dead.”

… Dead? What did he mean ‘dead’?

Panic soon replaced the confusion faster than being struck with a stray baseball. “Wait! Then what about Dan Heng. And Bailu? What’s going to happen to them?!”

“I don’t know,” Dad answered.

Then came the words that would haunt Stelle for the rest of her life.

“I don’t even know where they are.”

[thenovelartist]

By Any Other Name - Chapter 2

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Stelle never really knew what to expect when Dad would come home and tell them, “Half-hour pack”. It meant they had half an hour to grab a bag and pack everything they would need for a surprise trip. Stelle had since learned that she needed to pack everything super important, too, ever since Mama started teasing, “if the house blows up while we’re away, at least we have everything we need.”

This time, their half-hour pack led them to a beach vacation with the rest of their family at Scalegorge Waterscape. She was super excited, thinking this might be the vacation Mama and Dad had promised for her and Caelus’ tenth birthday. Stelle knew Dan Heng talked about this place a lot. He even promised her that he’d show her all the best spots to go diving and collect shells one day.

Stelle was debating asking Dan Heng about it when Caelus smacked her on the shoulder. “Race you to the rock and back!”

“You’re on!”

Stelle and Caelus bolted across the sand, past the little tide pool that Dan Heng and Bailu were playing in. Caelus was almost too fast for her, but she managed to skid to the finish line one step in front of him. “Winner!”

“That’s only because you cheated!”

“How’d I cheat?”

“You barely touched the rock on the other end.”

“Caelus,” Dan Heng called out, “She beat you fair and square.”

“Ha!”

Caelus stuck his tongue out at Dan Heng. “You’re always on her side.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“That’s because Dan Heng has a crush on Stelle.”

Stelle’s face turned bright red, yet she glared at Yanqing, who’d since joined the discussion.

“It’s gross!” Yanqing continued. “You can’t have a crush on your cousin—WAHHHH! Don’t hurt meee!”

Stelle ran across the sand as fast as she could, hunting down Yanqing. See, that was the other thing about turning ten. Stelle had since learned she could have a crush on her cousin, because he wasn’t related to her by blood. Apparently, all her family was that way. In Aunt Jingliu’s words, her aunts and uncles were just friends close enough to be ‘bound by the blood of battle’.

Stelle didn’t know what that meant other than they all fought bad guys together. Which was pretty cool, if you asked her.

It didn’t take her too long to tackle Yanqing into the sand. Then, grabbing him by the ankles, she began dragging him toward the ocean.

“I’m sorryyyyy!” he shouted.

From his chair under the big tent, Uncle Jing Yuan laughed. “Yanqing! You should know better than to tease Stelle by now.”

“Stelle!” Mama called out. “What did we talk about when it came to hiding bodies?”

With a sigh, she dropped Yanqing’s ankles. “You can only hide dead ones.”

“And what are the rules with your cousins?”

“I’m not allowed to kill them.”

“That’s my girl.”

Yanqing hurried back to where the adults were relaxing in various chairs or on blankets under a tent. There was also a big cooler of drinks and a bag of beach snacks that Stelle was tempted to go back for. Instead, she walked over to the tide pool.

“Stelle, Look!” Bailu presented a starfish to Stelle. “It’s yellow like a real star.”

“Oh! It’s pretty.”

“Wanna touch it?”

Stelle poked gently at the starfish, feeling the odd texture. “Weird. I thought it was gonna be slimy.”

“No, it’s really smooth. The other ones are squishy.” Bailu carefully set the starfish back into the water before pulling out a long, furry creature. “Touch this one.”

Stelle hesitated. “Uhh… no thanks.”

“But it’s cool.”

“Bailu,” Dan Heng took the creature and put it back in the water. “Sea cucumbers don’t like being out of the water.”

“Oh.”

“Bailu!” Aunt Baiheng shouted from the tent. “Come here a moment, please.”

“Awww.”

“Dan Heng, Stelle. You, too. When was the last time you all put on sunscreen?”

After submitting to the grown-ups’ smothering, Stelle grabbed Dan Heng’s hand. “Hey! You promised me you’d show me the coolest spots to go diving.”

Dan Heng’s expression brightened. “It’s over there.” He pointed far to the side, where the cliffs grew steeper and rockier as the sandy beach faded.

“Please stay where we can see you,” Aunt Baiheng said.

Dan Heng frowned. “Oh… Sorry, Stelle.”

“I’ll go with them,” Uncle Dan Feng offered. “Caelus, Yanqing, do you want to come?”

“Yeah!” Caelus agreed, eagerly following.

“I’ll stay here,” Yanqing said. “It’s too deep.”

“Alright,” Uncle Dan Feng then looked to Dad. “You want to join?”

With a grunt, Dad heaved himself out of his chair. “Sure, why not?”

Dan Heng led the way, the twins following right behind while their dads tailed them from a distance. The beach was more rock than sand here, the dark stone almost taking on a colorful glint.

“Look,” Dan Heng said, pointing down at the waves. “There’s a whole reef right over there.” He then began explaining how to differentiate between the types of coral and the fish they’d see.

By the time their dads caught up, Stelle and Caelus were still in the middle of listening to Dan Heng’s explanation.

“Oh, and don’t touch anything,” Dan Heng finished. “We don’t want to disturb the coral or the fish.”

“True,” Uncle Dan Feng agreed. “But if you’d like to show them how to dive for oysters, you can.”

Dan Heng’s eyes widened. “How many can I get?”

“I was going to fish for dinner, so you can pull as many as you’d like to eat, and then a few more for the others.”

“Sounds good.” Dan Heng turned back to Stelle and Caelus, pointing a warning finger at them. “Okay, so I’ll show you what to pick, okay? Still, don’t touch anything unless I show you.”

“Got it,” Stelle assured. She didn’t want to hurt the reef Dan Heng loved so much. Disappointing him would only hurt her. That, and she didn’t want to get yelled at by Uncle Dan Feng, either. He was scary when mad.

Dan Heng jumped in first, the twins tailing behind him.

The bottom of the ocean was deeper than Stelle expected, and it was hard to hold her breath long enough to stay at the bottom for longer than a couple of seconds. Dan Heng didn’t have any of those problems. She was going to have to practice a lot more if she wanted to be like him.

Still, she managed to see all of the coral and fish Dan Heng so excitedly pointed out. Every time they would surface, Dan Heng would tell them exactly what kind of creatures they saw and give fun facts about them.

“You sound like a documentary,” Caelus teased.

Dan Heng frowned. “Sorry. Is it… boring?”

“No!” Caelus assured before Stelle could. “Uh, it’s cool.”

He looked to Stelle for confirmation.

She happily gave it. “Yeah. You can keep sharing.”

Dan Heng seemed to relax at that. “There’s one other place I want to show you, but it might be too deep.”

“We can try.”

“Okay.”

It was, in fact, too deep. Dan Heng told them to wait by the surface and dove down for them, pointing out cool creatures and even getting an eel to chase his finger, popping far enough out of its hidey-hole so Stelle and Caelus could see.

A shrill whistle pierced the air when they all resurfaced.

“Closer to the shore,” Uncle Dan Feng called out.

When Stelle turned, she noticed just how far away they were.

“There’s a drop-off there,” Dan Heng said. “Dad doesn’t like us getting too close to it.”

“I’ll race you back!” Caelus called out.

“No one can beat Dan Heng,” Stelle lamented.

“I’ll give you a five-second head start,” Dan Heng said.

“On the count of three,” Caelus said. “One, two, three!”

Caelus and Stelle splashed through the water, leaving Dan Heng behind.

So how did he still reach the rocks before them?

“You’re too fast!” Stelle cried, being the last to touch the rocks.

“How do you go so fast?” Caelus said.

Dan Heng just shrugged. “Um… do you want to collect oysters?”

“Sure,” Stelle agreed. “How do you do it?”

Dan Heng guided them along the cliffside until they reached a rocky area with a bunch of black disks protruding from it. Oysters, Dan Heng told them. He showed them how to remove them from the rocks, then they brought them back to shore.

“Is there a lot of meat inside?” Caelus asked.

“Uh… there’s enough,” Dan Heng said.

“Are they tasty?” Stelle asked next.

“Yeah. Wanna try one?”

“Now?” Caelus questioned. “We don’t have a fire.”

“You eat them raw. Like… you just swallow them whole.”

The twins gave each other a confused look before turning their confusion back to Dan Heng. “Really?”

“Yeah. Let me ask.” He turned to his dad. “Can I open some oysters to eat?”

Uncle Dan Feng took out a knife from his pocket. “Do you remember how to open them?”

Dan Heng took it. “Uh-huh. It’s like…” Dan Heng flicked the knife open and pried it into the oyster. After a moment, the shell was in two pieces, revealing a grayish-tan-colored thing inside.

Uncle Dan Feng gave a proud nod. “Good job.”

Dan Heng then scraped the oyster shell. “You eat them whole, like this.” And then he sucked down the oyster. “Wanna try?”

Honestly, Stelle wasn’t sure, and considering Caelus didn’t remark, he was hesitating, too. But Dan Heng rarely ever got them into trouble, so… this one time, Stelle would make an exception. “Okay.”

Dan Heng shucked another oyster, scraping the sides before handing it to her. He repeated the action, then handed it to Caelus.

“Y-you gotta do it with us!” Caelus cried.

Dan Heng paused, but then pried open another oyster. “Oh!”

Uncle Dan Feng leaned over his shoulder. “A pearl?”

“Yeah.”

Dan Heng handed his dad the knife he was holding, then squeezed a little pearl out of the grayish lump. His eyes widened. “Look! It’s a golden pearl.”

“I thought pearls were supposed to be white,” Stelle said.

“They can be many colors,” Uncle Dan Feng explained. “White, pink, yellow, and black. But a golden pearl is one of the rarest. And luckiest.”

“Cool.”

Dan Heng held the pearl out to his dad. “Can you hold that?”

His dad took it.

Dan Heng then turned back to the twins. “Ready?”

Stelle wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t chicken out now.

“On the count of three, just swallow it. One, two, three.”

Stelle did just that.

And gagged on the salty taste. She started flapping her hands, her entire body rebelling against keeping it down.

“Argghhhh!” Caelus cried, his tongue out like a dog. “Slimy, gross, auughhhh!”

Somewhere behind them, Dad and Uncle Dan Feng were laughing harder than Stelle had ever heard.

“Something tells me,” Dad said through his chuckles, “that it’s not to their taste.”

“Really now?” Uncle Dan Feng sarcastically drawled. “Could have fooled me.”

“I need water,” Stelle grumbled around a gag. “No, Soulglad. Can I have a Soulglad?”

“Me, too?” Caelus chimed in.

“Alright, alright,” Dad said, shooing them back toward the tent.

“We’ll stay here,” Uncle Dan Feng said. “Catch some dinner.”

“I’ll send these two back with a bucket, then.”

“Wait!” Dan Heng turned to his dad. “Can I have my pearl?”

After Uncle Dan Feng placed it back in his awaiting palm, Dan Heng walked over to Stelle. “Take that back to camp and keep it safe for me, please.”

She curled her hand around it protectively. “I promise.”

The rest of the trip seemed to fly by in a flash, and soon, it was time to go back to the hotel they’d be staying at for the night. However, Uncle King Yuan had surprised them with a box of sparklers. They divied them up evenly, then held the ends into ther dying campfire to light them. Caelus, Yanqing, and Bailu were running across the sand, squealing all the while, but Stelle and Dan Heng hung off to the side.

“Hey,” Dan Heng said. “Open your hand.”

Curious, Stelle did so.

Only to be surprised when he put the golden pearl in her hand. “For you.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You found it. It’s yours, right?”

“Whenever we have oysters and Dad finds a pearl, he always gives it to Mom. He says pearls need to be given away to the people you love the most.” He then shrugged, shifting awkwardly as he stared at the sparkler in his hand. “So you can have that one.”

Stelle felt like her heart was going to explode. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She clung to her pearl, keeping it close to her chest as she bumped Dan Heng’s shoulder with hers. “I promise to take the best care of it.”

He looked up, a little surprised by her touch, but then he gave her a smile, one that reminded her of why she had a crush on her not-cousin cousin “That’s good.”

“But if you ever want it back, you can just ask.”

His brow furrowed. “Why would I want it back?”

“Because… if you ever need some extra luck, you should have it. Your dad said it’s lucky, right?”

For a while, he paused. “Then… you just have to bring the pearl and help me. Some of your luck can rub off on me.”

Her grin grew as she clung tighter to the pearl. “It’s a deal then.”

And they stayed side by side until their sparklers burned out.

~~

“No, we aren’t going to the fireworks tonight.”

Dan Heng was old enough to know that when Dad put his foot down, there was no changing his mind. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t sorely disappointed. Not even because they weren’t going to see the New Year’s fireworks on the first night, but because that meant he wouldn’t be able to give Stelle the gift he’d worked so hard on.

“But, what about the Dragon and Lion dance?” Bailu questioned.

Dad shook his head. “Not tonight.”

And if the day wasn’t disappointing enough, Dad got a call in the middle of dinner and never came back to the table. Mom looked really worried, but she stayed, quickly finishing dinner before asking Dan Heng and Bailu to clean the dishes. After patting both their heads in thanks, she followed after Dad.

When Dan Heng went to report that they were done, he saw Mom sitting next to Dad, who had his head in his hands.

“I knew they were going to pull something,” Dad had muttered.

“They’re getting more brazen,” Mom had agreed. “It worries me.”

Dad had pulled Mom in for a hug by then. “Me, too.”

Deciding he wasn’t going to interrupt, Dan Heng just went back to his room that night. As he looked at the gift he’d made Stelle, he thought of how disappointed he was that he wouldn’t get to see the fireworks with her. It was her favorite part of New Year's.

So Dan Heng was surprised when Mom announced they could go see the last performance of the Lion and Dragon dance on the final day of the festival.

“Are we going with everyone else?” Dan Heng asked, his mind going back to the gift.

“Yup,” Mom confirmed. “And then we’re going to go have dinner at Moze’s house.”

“And the fireworks?” Bailu asked, hope sparkling in her eyes.

Mom’s expression tensed. “Not this year.”

While that was a disappointment, Dan Heng was still happy he’d get the opportunity to give Stelle the good luck gift he’d spent so much time on. The library books weren’t very helpful, but he’d managed to finish it anyway, so it would be a shame if he couldn’t give it to her in time. He’d made sure to tuck it safely away in his pocket before they headed out.

Soon enough, Dan Heng and Bailu were walking hand in hand down Aurum Alley. Caelus and Stelle lingered on one side of them, while Yanqing and Moze walked in front of everyone.

“You know what I heard?” Yanqing whispered, turning around to walk backward.

“About?” Caelus asked.

“The fireworks,” Yanqing finished. “I overheard Aunt Jingliu say that a lot of them exploded in the crowd on the first night.”

“In the crowd?” Dan Heng repeated.

“Yeah. Apparently, it was a really big deal.”

“Mom was away all night,” Moze confirmed. “She said she was in charge of cleaning up the mess.”

Slowly, Dan Heng realized why Dad hadn’t wanted to go see the fireworks. What if that happened again? But… what if Dad never let them see the fireworks again? Dan Heng would hate that, because Stelle would hate that. Maybe when they were older, Dad would reconsider.

Although Dan Heng liked Aurum Alley best at night—all the lanterns were lit and had a beautiful glow—it was still pretty cool in the day. Colorful lanterns hung from every building. The sweet smell of snacks wafted through the streets from nearby food carts. There were even decorative stalls selling good luck charms.

Dan Heng patted his pocket. Yup, Stelle’s gift was still there.

They got to stand in the very front of the crowds to watch the parade pass by. Bailu was the most excited of all of them, but Dan Heng loved watching the dances, too.

Eventually, the parade faded away, the crowd all now leaving their spots. By then, the grown-ups said they should head to Moze’s house now.

“Can we get one snack while we’re here?” Stelle pleaded. “Please?”

Uncle Jing Yuan was the one who caved. “Surely one won’t do any harm. There’s a dango stall nearby that is quite tasty.”

Then, with snacks in hand, they all walked back to their cars, only for Dan Heng to realize he hadn’t had a chance to give Stelle the gift.

So when they got to Moze’s house, Dan Heng searched for an opportunity. One came when Caelus suggested they should try to sneak dumplings from the kitchen. Moze said Mr. Jiaoqiu would see because he saw everything. Yanqing doubted that, and Caelus simply insisted he was faster. So, Moze followed everyone because, in his words, he wanted to watch them fail.

“Hey,” Dan Heng grabbed Stelle’s hand before she could trail after them. “I… have something for you.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

He nodded, then hesitantly pulled out the little felt pouch with a decorative knot inside. “I made it. It’s… not the best, but I hope it brings you good luck. And you can put the pearl in the pouch too…”

With a gasp, Stelle eagerly grabbed the pouch. Opening it up, she pulled out the decorative knot, one made of lucky red cord. “I love it!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Actually…” She then shoved her hands into her own pocket. “I have something for you, too.”

When she pulled her hand out, he saw a flat metal stick with a strand of beads attached to the end.

“It’s a bookmark,” she explained. “Dad says jade is good luck, so I made sure to put a jade bead at the end.”

He looked over the beads, noticing the little jade bead dangling below a lotus flower and a star.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

He smiled. “I love it.”

Her grin doubled. “Then we both have good luck charms for the new year,” she said. “I bet it will be the luckiest year ever.”

Dan Heng held the bookmark close to his chest. “I hope so.”

~~

She and Dan Heng had given each other good luck charms for the new year, so they should have had the luckiest year ever, yet she was hit with the worst luck ever when Dad said they were moving. And not just down the street, but to a whole new city! She would have to leave behind all her friends, her baseball team, her school.

Her cousins.

“You’ll attend a new school,” Mama had assured. “And make new friends.”

“But what about Yanqing? And Moze? And…”

Mama had stroked her head. “They’re all moving, too. So even if we were staying, they’d all be gone.”

“Even Dan Heng and Bailu?”

“Yes, even them.”

At the time, Stelle had worried even more. If Dan Heng was moving, too, then where was he even going to end up? Were they going to end up even farther apart? That was the day she would never leave the house without her lucky pouch in her pocket, one that held both the fortune knot and her golden pearl.

Maybe that turned the tide in her favor. One week later, she learned that she and Dan Heng weren’t growing any farther apart. In fact, they were now going to be neighbors. It made adapting to Seafeld City that much easier. Everything from exploring the area to learning about their new school, Graphia Intermediary Academy, just got that much easier with her friend by her side. More than that, because he was much quieter than usual, she had to pick up the slack and help him make friends, which in turn helped her make friends. All in all, it wasn’t as bad as she thought it might be.

Today was one of the few days Caelus wasn’t anywhere in sight. He was hanging out at the top of the school, probably picking a fight with that one kid, Skott. It wasn’t her brother’s fault that Skott was booted from the baseball team. Caelus just happened to be better, and Skott just so happened to pull some nonsense that got him detention. Tough luck; he did it to himself.

Normally, Stelle would be happy to back him up if there was a fistfight, buuuuut she had better plans. Like walking with Dan Heng around Duomention City as they made their way home from school.

“Do you ever get out of the library?” Stelle teased, poking at Dan Heng’s shoulder.

“I like getting as much of my homework done as possible while waiting for you. It means more free time at home.”

Waiting for her? Her heart did a funny leap in her chest. Was it too much to hope he liked her like she liked him? All those years of Yanqing teasing her about her crush, and she was pissed to admit—only to herself—that she really did have a crush on Dan Heng. Like… a big one. Was that weird? Hopefully not! “Well, you don’t have to wait for me today,” she said. “Does it feel like you’re playing hooky?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “How about we don’t do that?”

“Come on, live a little. Not like your grades are gonna plummet.”

“Mine may not, but if you wanna keep on the baseball team, you can’t get in trouble. Not unless you want to end up like Skott.”

She hated that he was right. “You mean getting my butt handed to me on the rooftop?”

Dan Heng froze for half a step, skipping to catch up. “Please tell me that’s not where Caelus is right now.”

“I can’t confirm, but you also can’t deny it’s a possibility.”

Dan Heng heaved a sigh. “He better hope they aren’t caught.”

“My guess is they’ll be fine. Skott’s not petty enough to tattle because that would mean he’d get detention, too.”

“Suspension,” Dan Heng muttered. “He’s near suspension.”

“Yeah, so unless he wants that, he won’t tell. And any witnesses aren’t likely to tattle, either, because they don’t want to get in trouble for watching but not doing anything about it.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

Stelle waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Either way, Caelus will be fine. Just watch. Anyway, do you wanna go get a snack? Someone in the other class said there’s a good place around here.”

“I’ll follow you, then.”

Stelle’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “All day?”

He gave her a smirk, one that didn’t appear nearly as frequently as it used to. It wasn’t just at school he’d clammed up. He’d become more reserved in general, meaning these moments were way more special. “For the next hour until we have to be home.”

Then Stelle was going to make the most of it.

First, they got treats from the suggested place. She liked them, but Dan Heng wrinkled his nose. “You can have mine.”

“Not a fan?”

“It’s a little too sweet.”

Right, she was talking to a guy who liked Mung Bean soda and thought Pufferbelly Bliss was full-on dessert. “Then we’ll find something different next time. I bet Bailu would like that, though. You should take it home for her.”

He looked down at the snack with a soft smile before wrapping it carefully and tucking it inside his backpack. “She would.”

“You can explain away the bitemark with ‘her big brother had to check for poison’.”

That got him to snigger.

Yes! Two for two today. Stelle was on a roll.

Then she spotted one of the many photobooths littering the city, and a brilliant idea popped into her head.

“Come on! I’ve always wanted to do one of these.” Grabbing his hand, she yanked him over to the booth and pulled him inside. “You always see these in tv and movies.”

“We could just take a picture on your phone,” Dan Heng muttered. “Or I have my camera.”

“It’s not the same!” Stelle insisted. She looked at the cost, then pursed her lips as she fished out her wallet. Thankfully, she had just enough. Good thing she went with the cheaper snack today, or she would have had to walk out of the booth in shame. “Okay, we only get one round of them, so don’t mess up.”

Dan Heng sat awkwardly on the seat, his eyes flitting between the screen and her. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just have fun with it.”

“Huh?”

The screen before them started counting down.

She leaned her shoulder against his. “Just smile!”

Flash.

Then it started counting down again, five seconds. Stelle hurried to throw bunny ears behind Dan Heng, only for him to look at her with confusion right as the picture went.

Flash

Then she poked him in the side. “Come on. Loosen up.”

“I—”

“You look constipated.” And she stuck out her tongue at him, giving him a cross-eyed stare.

It earned her a shy, somewhat bemused grin right as the camera went off.

Flash.

“Will you at least make the last one a nice one?” She threw her arms around his shoulders. “You really are Cold Dragon Young!”

He stiffened, awkwardly patting her hand. “Sorry.”

Flash.

With that, the photobooth’s camera shut off while a whirling started up. Within moments, a little photo strip landed in the box over to the side.

Stelle eagerly reached for it. There really was something different about a photostrip compared to a phone. Watching Dan Heng’s progression from stiff to confused to awkward to…

Cute. That last photo was very cute.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking over her shoulder. “I… ruined your pictures.”

“I don’t think they’re ruined. But next time we take them, you have to promise to do better.”

“Do you want to try again now?”

“I don’t have the money.”

“I do.”

Stelle hadn’t expected him to pull out his wallet, but he did, slipping the money into the machine and starting up the camera again. Dan Heng was way more prepared this time, giving a good smile for the first round. But then, Stelle thought it would be fun to try and catch him off guard.

She did her very best to be as silly as possible. He looked mortified in the second picture, then bemused the third. By the fourth, he was laughing wholeheartedly.

He was really handsome.

“Here,” he handed out the second row of pictures. “You can take that one, and I’ll take the first.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. These ones are better.”

“I don’t know,” she said, still handing over the first photostrip to him. “I think the last one is nice.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think I look good in any of them, but…” He looked over the photostrip as though it were a prized possession. “You do.”

Why did that make her feel fluttery?

Dan Heng then took out a pen. Turning over the photostrip, he wrote the date on the back.

“Oh, let me autograph it!” Stelle took the pen from his hand and wrote her name with a star next to it. And then, she wrote “Together Forever” underneath. “A good omen,” she said.

He stared blankly at the little note before he smiled. Finally, he looked relaxed. That was the best smile he’d given her this whole time. Too bad this one wasn’t captured in the photos. “Let me do the same to yours.”

After Stelle wrote the date and her own name, Dan Heng wrote his underneath in his neat and tidy handwriting, along with a “together forever.”

With that one little note, the photos had become one of Stelle’s most treasured possessions. When she told him with a smile that she’d cherish it forever, she really meant it.

~~

For Dan Heng’s thirteenth birthday, all his family, a few schoolmates, and his friends from his martial arts club had gathered at his house. As thankful as he was to have the celebration, he was equally happy when everyone left. He needed a little extra quiet today.

The tassel from the bookmark Stelle had given him swung around the spine of his new book as he climbed onto the roof. He pulled the little booklight from his pocket, the new one Mom had gifted him to replace the old one he’d burnt out. She lamented that if she couldn’t stop him from reading late into the night, she could at least give him something to replace the flashlight he kept taking from her workshop.

Two pages in, he heard a gentle thunk on the roof. He lifted his gaze to the sound, only to spot Stelle climbing up. “I knew you’d be hiding up here,” she said. “With your new book. Wow, what a shocker.”

Sheepishly, he marked his page and let the book drop into his lap. “What are you doing up here?”

“I wanted to hang out with you a little more.” She then sat down next to him. “Your birthday was fun. You have some cool friends in your martial arts club.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, they’re nice.”

“If that’s all you have to say, I guess I’m not going to lose the title of best friend.”

That got Dan Heng to smile. “I doubt anyone will ever take the place of you or Caelus.”

She grinned. “Good. Or I’d have to fight them.”

“Stelle, no.”

“Stelle, yes.” She gave him a wink, then lay back on the roof, looking up at the stars.

He sighed. “Why do you think everything can be solved with a fight?”

“Can’t it?”

“Stelle.”

“At least you won’t get bored with me around.”

“In my book, it says bad company corrupts good character.”

“HEY!”

Dan Heng swallowed his laughter at her offence.

“Bad company.” She grumbled. “Ha. You’ll never get rid of me.”

“Fine, I resign myself to that fate.” Actually, if he were being completely honest, he couldn’t imagine her not being in his life. Her brand of chaos was surprisingly… predictable to him, as odd as that might be to say. There was a comfort in that.

“Good.” She patted the roof next to her.

He followed her lead, lying down beside her.

“I think I found another constellation,” she said.

“Oh?”

“Yup.” She shifted closer,their shoulders touching as she lifted her arm. She drew a trail through the stars in the shape of an odd y with a line through the tail. “Is that one Andromeda?”

His eyes widened. “I’m surprised you found that one.”

“Ha! I freaking knew it.” She glared at him. “It’s so hard to find them with only the map you gave me. You could have just shown me.”

“But it’s more fun this way.”

“How?”

“Because you learn more. And don’t you like the stars?”

She pouted, crossing her arms. “Yeah. I liked the book you gave me about how to use the stars to find what direction you’re facing. That’s kinda cool.”

He beamed. It was a book he’d given her for her birthday last summer, one full of star maps and facts. He’d made her a deal then: if she found the constellation herself, he would tell her all about them.

So he started up talking about Andromeda, how she was a princess intended to be sacrificed to the sea, only to be saved by a mythical hero.

“Draco?” Stelle asked.

“Huh?”

“Was she saved by Draco? You know, the dragon constellation.”

He shook his head. “No, why would you think that?”

She shrugged. “No reason.”

“She was saved by the hero Perseus.” He corrected before finishing the story.

“If I were the princess,” Stelle said after a moment. “I’d rather be saved by the dragon. It could just eat the sea monster.”

“How do you know the sea monster isn’t bigger than the dragon?”

“Doesn’t matter. Nothing beats the dragon.”

For some reason, he felt his stomach sour. No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t quite upset, but not normal. It just felt… weird. And he couldn’t look at her when she said that. Was it because she used to call him a dragon when they were little? That she still referred to him as… a dragon…

He sat up, maybe a little too fast because his head was spinning. “Did you find any other constellations?” he asked.

She sat up next to him. “No. I only found that one. And it was hard. Why is it even shaped like that?”

“I think it’s supposed to be a person falling.” Dan Heng said. Again, he leaned in close enough for their shoulders to touch, pointing out the constellation while explaining.

“Oh, I see it,” Stelle said.

And when she turned to him, their faces were really close.

Stelle’s expression fell. “Hey, Dan Heng… would you rescue me? I was going to be fed to a sea monster?”

His brow furrowed. “There’s no such thing as sea monsters.”

“Hypothetically.”

He sighed. She should know by now that Stelle liked these weird games. “You could probably fight it off yourself.”

“But if I was tied up and I couldn’t.”

“Fine, I’d save you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

That seemed to appease her for a moment, but then she started fidgeting with her hands.

Suddenly, she leaned forward, their faces so close he couldn’t even see her clearly. “This is a thanks… in advance. For saving me.”

And then she kissed him.

It barely lasted a second before she pulled away, putting ample distance between them.

“Because,” she continued, far more shy than she normally was. “Princesses have to give a kiss to those who save them… right?”

“Stelle…” He looked away, his stomach a mess and his head cloudy. “You should only kiss people you like.”

“But I like you.”

He turned to look up at her, eyes wide as his brain completely shut off.

“I like you a lot. Er… do you not… like me?”

“I… um…” He felt his face burn. He curled his legs up, half hiding behind them. His upset stomach did another weird turn.

Was that what this was? A… crush?

He didn’t know, but he was too scared to hurt Stelle by telling her no. That just didn’t feel like the right answer, anyway. “I… like you, too.”

Silence ran between them.

“Does that mean… we get to be… boyfriend and girlfriend?” she tentatively asked. “And, like… hold hands and make each other special gifts and stuff?”

Boyfriend and girlfriend. Dan Heng wasn’t sure how he felt about it. At most, all he could say… was that he didn’t dislike it. Not in the slightest. “I guess so.”

She beamed.

“Stelle! Dan Heng!” Caelus’ voice echoed from below, making Dan Heng jump. “Where are you?”

“Hey!” Stelle hissed, leaning in close again. “Let’s keep it secret for now, okay?”

“O-okay.”

“Good.” Stelle scrambled away, but then paused and turned back. She threw her arms around him in a hug. “Happy birthday.”

And then, with one last very quick kiss to his cheek, she disappeared.

Dan Heng was left on the roof, holding his hand over his cheek where she’d kissed him.

Boyfriend and girlfriend… maybe he did more than just not dislike it.

He looked back up into the stars, his eyes searching out Andromeda before looking for Draco. A princess and a dragon. Well, if you could call a feral raccoon a princess… then maybe he liked Stelle’s preferred choice of hero a lot more than the one of legends.

[thenovelartist]

By Any Other Name - Chapter 1

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To four-year-old Dan Heng, there was only family. That family consisted of his parents (of course), his uncles and aunts, and his two cousins. But it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

“Daddy says we’re getting two new cousins,” Caelus said.

“Mama says one is in Auntie Baiheng’s tummy,” Stelle said. “And that Uncle Jing Yuan is ado…a-dop-ing the other one.” She stumbled but corrected himself.

“Yeah.” Dan Heng confirmed. “Dad says we need to be nice.”

“Do you think they will wanna play animals with us?” Caelus asked.

“He can’t be a raccoon,” Stelle said. “We’re raccoons.”

“And he can’t be a dragon,” Caelus agreed. “Dan Heng’s a dragon.”

“He can be a dragon,” Dan Heng relented.

“NO!” the twins insisted at the same time, surprising Dan Heng.

“That’s not allowed!” Caelus insisted. “Only you get to be a dragon.”

“Yeah,” Stelle agreed. “Because you’re the bestest, most coolest dragon ever!”

Dan Heng lit up at that. “Really?”

The twins fervently agreed.

A knock sounded on the door to Dan Heng’s room before his mom entered, her belly weirdly big. “Dan Heng, Stelle, Caelus. Uncle Jing Yuan is here. Come meet your new cousin.”

The three followed Mom out of Dan Heng’s room to the living room, where Uncle Jing Yuan was kneeling next to a little kid with yellow hair.

“Everyone,” Uncle Jing Yuan spoke. “This is Yanqing, your new cousin. He’s the same age as you all.”

“Hi,” came three echoes as Dan Heng and his cousins waved. The first thing Dan Heng noticed was that Yanqing was really small. The smallest of all of them.

“Yanqing,” Uncle Jing Yuan continued, pointing at all of them. “This is Dan Heng, Stelle, and Caelus.”

The boy waved back awkwardly. “H-hi.”

“Do you wanna play animals with us?” Caelus asked, being the first to step forward.

Yanqing hesitated. “Uhh…”

“How about instead of a game,” Uncle Jing Yuan said. “You all color. Aunt Jingliu brought some coloring pages for you.”

“That sounds fun,” Stelle agreed. “We can share pictures together.”

Aunt Jingliu came up behind Uncle Jing Yuan, holding out a handful of papers. “Here, Yanqing.” She gave the papers to him. “You can share these with your cousins.”

“Let’s see!” Caelus was the first to look at the papers in Yanqing’s hands, only to gasp. “Cool! There’s a dragon.”

“A dragon?” Yanqing asked.

“It’s a biiiig lizard that flies and controls water,” Stelle said. “And it’s only for Dan Heng. That’s the rule.”

“You can’t be a raccoon, either,” Caelus said. “That’s the rule.”

Uncle Jing Yuan chuckled tensely. “Now now, let’s not—”

“You can be another animal,” Stelle suggested, ignoring their uncle.

“Let’s find what animal you are.” Caelus agreed.

Uncle Jing Yuan relaxed, patting Yanqing on the back. “What do you say about that?”

“Oh… kay,” Yanqing agreed.

The twins then each grabbed one of Yanqing’s hands and pulled him toward Dan Heng’s room again. “Come on, Dan Heng!” Stelle said.

“Coming.”

Within moments, they were sitting in a circle on the floor, all the pages fanned out. They each took a page they liked, Yanqing reaching for one of a Diting.

“Ohh!” Caelus said. “You could be a Diting!”

“It looks like my plushie,” Yanqing said.

“Then it’s decided,” Stelle said. “You’re a Diting. Now you get to be an animal like the rest of us.”

Yanqing’s smile grew. “Okay.”

“Hey, Dan Heng?” Stelle looked to him. “Where are the crayons?”

“Uh…” Dan Heng looked around his room, but the box wasn’t where it should have been. “I don’t know. I’ll go ask Mom.”

“Okay.”

Dan Heng slipped down the stairs, where he could hear his family talking.

“Where’d you even find him?” Uncle Yingxing asked.

“There was a laboratory still up and active,” Uncle Jing Yuan answered. “It seems the disciples got bold and decided to test their luck again.”

“I’ll stamp them out this time,” Aunt Jingliu insisted.

“Do we need to reassemble?” Dad asked.

Curious, Dan Heng peeked around the corner. The grown-ups seemed to be having a serious talk. None of them looked very happy.

“No, I’ve got new backup,” Aunt Jingliu said. “The disciples teamed up with the Borison gang, which has been Feixiao’s domain for a while.”

Aunt Kafka’s lips turned down. “The human trafficking ga—?”

“SHHH!”

Dan Heng hid back around the corner.

“Dan Heng, little dragon,” Mom sweetly spoke, a contrast to her harsh shush. “I know you’re there. Do you need something?”

Slowly, Dan Heng walked around the corner. “Have you seen my crayon box?”

Mom looked around the room, but it was Aunt Jingliu who spotted them. She grabbed the box on the table near the window and brought it over to him. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking the box.

“You’re welcome.” She gave him a gentle pat on the head. “Thank you for taking care of Yanqing.”

“You’re welcome.” As he walked back to his room, Dan Heng was very aware of how quiet the adults were.

He didn’t like it. It felt like something was wrong.

“Hey!” Stelle cried when he returned. “You got the crayons!”

“Y-yeah.”

“So we decided,” Stelle continued. “We’re all going to color our pages, and then we’re going to share this page.” Stelle showed a picture with four dancing stars on it.

“Okay.”

They proceeded to do just that, passing around the shared page until they were called for dinner.

Afterwards, they said goodbye to Yanqing, who waved excitedly while holding onto his coloring pages. They had decided to let him have the star page this time. Next time, they would ro-sham-bo over who got the shared coloring page.

Then it was Stelle and Caelus' turn to leave.

“Dan Heng,” she said, handing over her drawing. “This is for you. It’s a raccoon, but I drew a dragon next to it. You’ll always be my favorite cousin of all the other cousins we get. Okay?”

Dan Heng looked at Stelle, his eyes wide before a smile split his face in two. “Okay.”

~~

Six-year-old Stelle had been having a lot of sleepovers lately. Both Mama and Daddy were really busy. Even Uncle Jing Yuan, Uncle Dan Feng, and Aunt Jingliu were super busy. It made Stelle a little sad because Daddy was gone so much, but both he and Mama promised it wouldn’t be much longer. They’d even go out on an adventure to celebrate. So Stelle could wait.

In the meantime, she got to hang out with her favorite cousin. She liked that.

Today, they were at Moze’s house. She wasn’t quite sure how Moze was Yanqing’s cousin and not hers, but they all called Moze their cousin anyway. When hanging out at Moze’s house, there were always two things they did. One was to eat a lot of super yummy food Mr. Jiaoqiu made for them. The other—

“Let’s go ghost hunting!” Caelus shouted.

“Why?” Moze lamented.

“Because it’s fun!” Yanqing said. “Let’s go ask.”

“But we have to look after Bailu,” Dan Heng said. “And she can’t come with us.”

“We can still ask,” Stelle said, grabbing Dan Heng’s hand and pulling him along. “Let’s go!”

Which led to five sets of feet scampering down the hallway. They quickly found Auntie Baiheng and Daddy still talking to Moze’s parents by the front door.

Stelle was the one to approach. “Can we go to Fyxestroll Garden?”

Auntie and Daddy shared a look, but Mrs. Feixiao smiled. “I don’t see why not,” she said. “Jiaoqiu and I can go with you.”

“Are you sure?” Auntie Baiheng asked.

“It’ll be fine,” Feixiao said with a wave of her hand. One of her crutches fell forward, but she caught it before it hit the ground. Mrs. Feixiao was fast like that. “It’s right around the bend, the area itself is safe, and Jiaoqiu has a pair of eagle eyes. The kids will be fine for an hour or two.”

“If you say so,” Daddy said. “But are you certain that you will be up for the task?”

“Ha! A broken leg won’t stop me from watching a handful of kids. Besides, I need out of the house before I go stir crazy.”

Mr. Jiaoqiu shook his head. “As much as I’m loath to relent… light exercise would be good for you. Furthermore, it’s not healthy for the kids to be cooped up. I understand both your fears, but their young bodies and minds shouldn’t suffer for them.”

Auntie Bailu sighed. “True.”

“They will be fine,” Jiaoqiu assured. “We wouldn’t suggest we weren’t confident.”

Stelle frowned.

“Is something wrong?” Dan Heng asked.

Feixiao put on a big grin. “Only that a huge ghost was spotted in Fyxestroll Garden. One that eats kids.”

They shrieked as Mrs. Feixiao made a munching noise.

“Ghosts aren’t real,” Dan Heng said.

“Yes, they are,” Stelle countered. “They haunt the mirror in Fyxestroll Garden. That’s what everyone says.”

“We should capture it!” Caelus suggested. “So they don’t eat any more kids.”

“Yeah,” Yanqing said. “But we have to leave Stelle and Bailu behind because they’re girls and they’ll get scared of ghosts.”

“No, I won’t!” Stelle insisted.

“But if she gets scared,” Caelus lamented. “She has to hold a guy’s hand.”

Yanqing stuck out his tongue. “She can’t hold mine.”

“Not mine,” Moze muttered, crossing his arms and hiding behind Jiaoqiu’s legs.

“I don’t need to hold anyone’s hand because I won’t get scared!” Stelle insisted.

“You can hold my hand,” Dan Heng offered.

Stelle looked at him, excitement filling her. “Really?”

“No.” Daddy dropped a hand on her head, turning her head to look at him. “No hand holding.”

Stelle’s brow furrowed. “Why can’t I hold his hand?”

“Because you’re too young. Now go show them you’re not scared and tackle them.”

She smirked. “Okay.”

“Atta girl,” Mrs. Feixiao said. “Show them girls aren’t scared of anything.”

Stelle did just that. It wasn’t long before she was sitting on Caelus with Yanqing in a headlock, a move Daddy had shown her just recently. She would have gotten Moze, too, if the crow-feathered weirdo hadn’t climbed the banister and hid upstairs.

Cheater.

“I surrender!” Yanqing cried, smacking her arm. “I give up.”

Mrs. Feixiao was laughing in the background, clapping all the while. “Good job, Stelle. Excellent form.”

Beaming under the praise, Stelle let Yanqing go, got off her brother, and walked back over to Mrs. Feixiao. Behind her, Yanqing theatrically gasped for air.

Caelus scrambled off the ground and started shaking Yanqing. “Don’t die!”

“I’m dead!” Yanqing said, flopping on his back.

“Nooooo!”

Moze suddenly reappeared. Stelle didn’t know how he did that. It was scary. “You’re so weird,” he muttered, squatting down beside Yanqing and poking at him.

A while later, they got to the edge of the eerie park at the end of the street Moze lived on. Fyxestroll Garden.

As Mrs. Feixiao set up a blanket for her and Bailu to sit on, Mr. Jiaoqiu told the rest of them, “Don’t go any deeper than the haunted mirror, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s go hunt for ghosts!” was Caelus’ battle cry before charging into the forest. Yanqing let out a shout of agreement and charged in behind him. Moze, only after giving his dad a tentative look, followed with a much weaker “yaaaay”.

That just left Stelle and Dan Heng. She looked at his hand, then grabbed it.

“Huh?”

She gave him a smile as she pulled him along after the other three. “Come on!”

“Huh?”

“You said you’d hold my hand.”

Feeling awkward, Dan Heng tried to pull away. “Uncle Yingxing said no.”

“Daddy doesn’t have to know.”

Dan Heng frowned. “But—”

“DAD SAID NO HAND HOLDING!” Caelus shouted, pointing at them. “I’m gonna tell Dad!”

“You can go back to Mr. Jiaoqiu if you’re scared.” Yanqing teased.

“I’m not scared!”

“Then why are you holding Dan Heng’s hand?”

With a pout, Stelle let go. “You’re both bullies!”

“Let’s go find the ghost,” Moze said as he kept marching on.

That was what they said, but somehow, the three boys ran off, leaving Stelle and Dan Heng trailing behind.

“Hey,” Dan Heng finally spoke up. “Are you mad?”

“I’m not mad,” she muttered, still very much upset as she crossed her arms. “They’re just bullies.”

Dan Heng hesitated. “You can hold my hand,” he said. “Family holds hands, right?”

Stelle finally looked at him. “But… Caelus is gonna tell.”

“Let’s keep it secret.”

A secret? One she shared only with Dan Heng? She liked that. “Promise not to tell?”

“I promise.”

Slowly, Stelle grabbed hold of his hand, her smile growing mischievous. “Hey,” she said, leaning super close. “Let’s play a game?”

“What kind of game?”

“Let’s pretend to be ghosts and scare them.”

Dan Heng turned toward where the other three disappeared, then back at Stelle. Gradually, a smile crept across his face. “Just this once, okay?”

“Pinky swear.” Stelle held out her other hand.

Dan Heng grinned. He took her pinky in his. “Pinky swear.”

Then, hand in hand, they slipped silently through the trees.

Before chasing Caelus, Yanqing, and Moze all the way out of the forest.

~

Eight-year-old Dan Heng needed to be careful in Stargazer Navalia, where Mom worked as a mechanic on airplanes and helicopters. It wasn’t often that Dan Heng got to come, especially with Bailu and his twin cousins in tow, but today was an exception. Apparently, Jiaoqiu said there was a problem with the medical helicopter he worked on, and he’d called Mom specifically to fix it. Since there was no one else to watch them, Mom made them all promise to behave themselves.

While he would have been content in doing his homework, Stelle and Caelus prided themselves in being “Feral Raccoons” and that “Rules were meant to be Broken.”

Which led them here.

Dan Heng was going to get in so much trouble. “Stelle! Caelus!” he hissed. “Get down from there.”

“It’s fine!” Caelus insisted, crawling up a ladder that led to the upper level of an aircraft hangar Dan Heng was certain they weren’t supposed to be in. “We won’t touch anything.”

“You can see the whole aircraft from here.” Stelle mused, leaning over the railing. “So cool.”

Dan Heng clung more tightly to Bailu’s hand before she could run away. “Seriously! You need to get down from there.”

“Hey, look at that one,” Caelus said, pointing at a large airplane with a rabbit on the wings.

“The Astral Express?” Stelle mused. “That’s what it says on the side. Come up here, Dan Heng! You have to see it!”

“I don’t wanna,” he said. “And I have to watch Bailu.”

“I’ll watch Bailu, then,” Stelle said, hopping down the ladder. “You go up and see it.”

Dan Heng shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

But… he was kinda curious.

“I wanna see!” Bailu said.

“You’re too little to climb up the ladder,” Stelle said, taking hold of her hand. “But we can look at the underside.”

“I wanna go up!”

“No. That’s only for the Big Kids.”

Bailu pouted. “I wanna be a big kid.”

“Maybe, Big Brother Dan Heng will take a picture of it for you.” Stelle looked to him. “Right?”

Dan Heng pursed his lips. He had brought his camera with him. It was an essential part of documenting things for research, and today was a rare day he could see the cool things at Mom’s work.

“Please!” Bailu pleaded, looking up at Dan Heng. “I wanna see!”

He sighed. “You can’t tell Mom.”

“I won’t!” she said.

She was going to. They were all going to get so busted.

Still, Dan Heng took his camera out of his backpack. Leaving his backpack on the ground, he slung his camera over his neck and headed up to take a photo.

Or five. The Astral Express really was cool for a small cargo plane.

He came back down immediately afterward, dragging Caelus with him. “Here,” he said, showing Bailu the picture.

“Cooool!”

The door behind them banged open, putting all the kids on edge.

“Hide!” Dan Heng hissed, pushing them toward the closest door. But then, with no amount of dread, he realized that while he had his camera in hand, he’d left his backpack on the ground. “My backpack!”

Stelle turned around. “I’ll go get it.”

“But—”

She was off like a shot, diving back into the hangar.

Dan Heng grimaced. She was going to get caught, all because of his mistake. “Caelus, watch Bailu.”

For once, Caelus did exactly as told, grabbing Bailu’s hand while Dan Heng ran back into the building. He looked for Stelle, but spotted a man instead. A tall, thin man that he’d seen Dad face off against in a fist fight. He could starkly remember watching his dad pummel that man to the ground.

He also remembered his mom pulling Dan Heng away from the fight and hurrying him back to the car at rapid speed.

Instinctively, Dan Heng dove behind the nearest hiding spot: the wheel of the Astral Express. He continued looking for Stelle, eventually spotting her crawling on her stomach toward the backpack, all while hiding in the shadow of the Astral Express.

Then, when the man’s back was turned, Stelle scampered into the open, grabbed the backpack, and scurried back to safety behind another wheel of the Astral Express. Then, with incredible stealth, she tiptoed back to where Dan Heng was hiding.

“I told you to run,” she whispered.

“I…” He trailed off, words lodging in his throat.

Stelle just put a finger to her lips and pushed him toward the door.

He tried to slip the backpack on, but while trying to be quiet, he accidentally kicked a wrench that was on the floor.

The man Dad had fought before whipped around. “Who’s there?”

“Run.” Stelle’s hushed command was followed by a shove to the back.

Dan Heng didn’t stick around. He scampered out the door, Stelle hot on his heels.

“It’s that damn bastard’s brat. Get back here!”

Dan Heng did the opposite, running as fast as he could. Stelle kept pace right beside him. They ran toward a different hangar, jumping over some barrels to hide behind.

Except Stelle didn’t clear it all the way, and she hit the pavement hard.

She gasped audibly. “Ooww, owww, ow-wow-wowww.”

When the tears hit, Dan Heng began to panic. “What happened?”

“Ankle,” Stelle sobbed.

Dan Heng’s gut dropped. “It’s okay,” he said, desperate to make the tears stop. Yet, his mind was racing with how they were going to escape while Stelle was hurt.

“Taoran!”

At the sharp tone, Dan Heng looked around the barrels to see a man with a cane marching up to the angry man. He stuck his cane out, halting the fighter’s—Taoran’s—path. Only one thought raced through Dan Heng’s head: that man was going to get pummeled. He’d seen Dad come back to the car with a bloody nose after that fight, and the bruises on Dad’s arm days afterwards.

And yet, the man simply tapped his cane on the ground, bringing Taoran to a halt.

A woman with long red hair soon joined him, hands on her hips. No matter how loud Taoran got, neither the woman nor the man with the cane moved.

Dan Heng turned back to Stelle. “We have to go. Can you walk?”

Tears in her eyes, Stelle shook her head. “It h-hurts so bad,” she squeaked out.

Dan Heng’s gut tumbled. This was his fault. If only he hadn’t left his backpack. If only he hadn’t kicked the wrench. If only he’d been better, Stelle wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

He took off his backpack, shoved his camera inside, then knelt down before her. “Here. Climb on my back. I’ll carry you.”

Stelle swiped away her tears, yet more replaced them. “Okay.”

“But, you need to wear the backpack.” He couldn’t forget it again, and he couldn’t wear the backpack and carry Stelle.

“Are you two okay?”

Dan Heng and Stelle both whipped around to spy the lady with red hair hovering over them.

“W-we’re fine.” Dan Heng said, positioning himself between the new lady and Stelle. “My mom is just around the corner.”

Her brow furrowed. “I can walk with you. I’d like to tell your mom what happened.”

“I’ll tell her.”

“I think it would be best for me to explain everything.”

Dan Heng frowned.

“Don’t worry. You two aren’t in trouble. I want to make sure you two are safe.”

It seemed there was no other way out of it.

The woman, sensing his hesitation, continued, “My name is Himeko. I work as an engineer here.”

Dan Heng’s eyes widened. “You work with my mom?”

She gave a little ‘oh’ of surprise. “Who’s your mom?”

“Baiheng.”

“Oh!” Himeko gave them a smile. “You must be Dan Heng. She’s told me about you. And your friend here is…”

Stelle sniffed, but was at a loss for words.

“That’s Stelle,” Dan Heng said, still blocking her from this woman’s view. “She’s my cousin.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet both of you. Now, let’s get you back to your mom, okay?”

Though a little nervous, Dan Heng tentatively turned back to Stelle. “Come on,” he said, squatting down. “Hop on my back.”

When she rubbed her tears away this time, they stayed away. Face still red, Stelle reached for his backpack. Only after swinging it over her shoulders did she awkwardly climb onto Dan Heng’s back.

Dan Heng looked over the barrels they had hidden behind, watching as Taoran stormed away from the man with the cane.

“Good,” Himeko remarked. “Welt got him to back down. Now, let’s go.”

They made it all of five steps toward the hangar before someone shouted, “Dan Heng!”

He looked up to see Mom jogging toward him, Mr. Jiaoqiu close behind. “What happened?” she asked.

“Stelle tripped. She hurt her ankle.”

“Let’s take a look at that,” Mr. Jiaoqiu said. “Can you walk to the helicopter?”

“I’ll carry her,” Dan Heng said, already walking toward the hangar.

“Thank you for bringing them back, Himeko,” Mom said. “They didn’t cause problems, did they?”

By then, Dan Heng was too far away to hear the answer.

Five minutes later, Jiaoqiu had finished examining Stelle. “We should probably get that x-rayed to confirm it, but I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprain and a good bruise.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mom commented.

Dan Heng ducked his head. “Are we in trouble?”

“I warned you not to stray too far,” she said, hands on her hips. “And two hangars away was too far.”

Dan Heng, Stelle, Caelus, and even Bailu all ducked their heads.

Mom slid a hand down her face. “Listen, I don’t want any of you anywhere near Taoran without an adult around, okay? So you have to stay out of that hangar, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” came the chorus of children’s voices.

“Good.”

“We’re sorry,” Stelle murmured behind him. “It was my idea. The plane in there was really cool. The red one with the bunny.”

“The Astral Express?” Mom asked.

The kids nodded.

Mom sighed. “Next time, ask. I bet Miss Himeko and Mr. Welt would be happy to show you their plane. But for now, all of you—” Mom pointed to Dan Heng and Stelle, then to Caelus and Bailu, “—need to stay put. I only have a little more work left.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With that, Mom went back to her work. Jiaoqiu gave both Dan Heng and Stelle a pat on the head before turning back to his own job. Caelus and Bailu took turns chasing each other around the hangar, racing back and forth between the boxes. Which just left Dan Heng and Stelle sitting in the copter, Stelle’s leg elevated with an icepack on it.

But then she turned awkwardly to wrap her arms around Dan Heng. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For carrying me back.”

Dan Heng fidgeted, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me.”

“It’s not your fault. It was an accident.”

“Still…”

She hugged him tighter. “It’s okay. You’re my favorite cousin.”

“You said that before.”

“But I mean it. You’re the best.”

He dared to look over at her. “Really?”

“Really really.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. But he did know one thing: he really liked being her favorite.

He liked it a lot.

~~

Stelle was the luckiest girl around. Of all the students she could have been paired with for the science fair project, she got paired with Dan Heng. Hence, the two fourth-graders searched the library books for the perfect science project. Stelle tried to find something to do with plants because she knew Dan Heng really liked nature stuff.

“Look at this!” She pointed to a picture in the book she was reading. “You can change the colors of flowers.”

Dan Heng looked from his own book to Stelle’s, but he didn’t say anything.

Stelle’s excitement faded. “You don’t like it?”

“Do you like it?”

“I think it’s cool,” she said, only half as enthusiastic as she was before.

Dan Heng set his book aside to take the book Stelle was holding and pull it into his lap.

Stelle scooted closer, her stomach feeling weirdly fluttery.

“Oh, I get it,” Dan Heng murmured after a while.

“Get what?”

“How the flowers change color. It shows the movement of water through plants. It’s just easier to see with flowers.”

“Like, how flowers drink water?”

“Yeah. Just like that.” Dan Heng then turned to her. “Do you wanna do this for our project?”

“Yeah!”

After borrowing the book from the library—Dan Heng showed her how; he borrowed a lot of books from the library—they took it home. Today, Mama was picking them up, so Stelle showed her the project they wanted to complete.

“You need flowers and food coloring?” Mama observed. “Alright, I’ll pick some up from the store.”

Hence, over the weekend, they were at her house, alone in the kitchen with a bundle of white roses, food coloring, and a bunch of glasses.

“The book says it takes a lot of time,” Dan Heng said. “So I brought my camera to record any changes.”

He would. That was a very Dan Heng thing for him to do.

“What color do you want to try first?” he asked.

Stelle looked at the colors in the little bottles, then up at Dan Heng. It was like she was looking at him for the first time, taking in his long black hair and his bright teal eyes.

“Blue,” she insisted, pushing the little bottle of blue food coloring toward him.

He took a flower from the bunch, then stuck it in the first glass. “You can put the coloring in.”

There was a reason they were at her house instead of Dan Heng’s. Mama said Stelle needed to be careful not to get any color on the countertops because it would stain, but she’d also heard Mama say to Auntie Baiheng that black countertops were much less likely to stain than the wooden ones that were in Dan Heng’s kitchen.

So she carefully squeezed a few drops of coloring into the glass, watching them bleed into the water. Dan Heng stirred it with the stem of the rose.

“Do you think we should add more?” Stelle asked. “How much does it need?”

“I don’t know.” Dan Heng then pulled out another rose. “Let’s make another one to test it out.”

So they did just that, Stelle turning the water a deep blue.

“That was a lot,” Dan Heng mentioned.

“Too much?” she asked.

Dan Heng shrugged as he dropped the flower into the water. “We should try another color.”

“Okay.” Stelle put the blue back. Now that the bottle was half empty, she weirdly didn’t want to waste it. “What color should we do?”

“Yellow.”

She pulled out the yellow bottle.

“We should try mixing a color,” Dan Heng said. “Um… maybe with some red.”

Stelle took a flower. “You mix the colors, then.”

So Dan Heng did just that, adding some yellow before adding one drop of red.

“That wasn’t a lot of red.”

“I don’t want any more,” he murmured.

Stelle just shrugged as she dropped the flower in the container. The color was pretty. Kinda orange but not too orange.

“The last thing the book says to try is to split a flower down the middle and put it in two different glasses,” Dan Heng said. “But, it says to have an adult do that.”

“We can do that.” Stelle scrambled through the kitchen, pulling out a cutting board and a small knife Dad used when peeling apples. He always said to be very careful with it because he kept them super sharp.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Dan Heng asked. “We can wait for your mom.”

“I know how to use a knife. Dad showed me how to handle a blade.” In fact, he’d shown both her and Caelus how to sharpen them, back in his workshop. Daddy taught them all about blades, which was super cool. “And Mama even showed me how to shoot guns.”

“Guns?”

“Yeah. She told me it was super important to respect them and use them responsibly. Dad says the same thing about knives.”

“Dad and Aunt Jingliu told me to respect all weapons. That they can be really dangerous, so it's important to learn properly.”

Stelle hummed her agreement. Her family really liked weapons, but they were super strict about them. That’s why she had to behave and listen carefully, because she wanted to be as awesome and powerful as they were when she grew up.

Taking a flower stem, she laid it on the cutting board. Keeping her fingers well out of the way of the knife, she tried to cut it in half. She could do it.

Only… it was a lot harder than she thought.

“Got it!” Finally, she managed to get the stem in two. It was lopsided and didn’t look very nice, but it would have to do. “See? I told you I could.”

Dan Heng frowned. “We shouldn’t do any more of those.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Stelle felt a little sheepish at that. She didn’t know why, but it made her feel… special.

“What colors do you think we should put on each side?” Dan Heng asked.

“We haven’t used red.”

“Then, do we mix it with yellow or blue?”

“Yellow.”

So they took two more glasses and carefully colored the water. Then, they stuck the split stem between the two cups.

“I think that’s all we should do for now,” Dan Heng said. “All we have to do is wait.”

“And take pictures,” Stelle reminded him.

Dan Heng looked at the clock, then back at the book. “It doesn’t say how long it takes. Only that it takes a long time.” He looked back to the flowers. “I don’t know when to take pictures.”

“You can take them now and before you go home.”

Dan Heng frowned. “That means I have to leave them here and I wont’ be able to take any more pictures.”

“I’ll take pictures,” she told him.

“Really?”

“Yeah. This is our project, right?”

He eased, then took a journal out of his backpack. “Be sure to record the time you took the pictures, okay?”

“I promise.”

Ultimately, the project turned out well, and they even got a good grade. A win in Stelle’s book. But more than that, the flowers came out super pretty. Particularly the blue ones.

“I wish I could keep it forever,” Stelle lamented, having brought home the flowers.

Dan Heng paused. “I can show you how to flatten them.”

“But they get all crusty and brown, don’t they?”

“Maybe not,” Dan Heng said. “Maybe they stay that color. We can… do another experiment together.”

While she didn’t care much for schoolwork, this particular project sounded pretty good to Stelle. “Okay.”

So their second experiment together was preserving all the flowers they’d made together. The dark blue ones looked super cool, but the light blue flowers were her favorite. Because it turned out that they didn’t keep their color exactly. Instead, they somehow turned the exact color of Dan Heng’s eyes. Weirdly, Stelle thought they almost looked like dragon scales.

She couldn’t have asked for a better outcome.

[thenovelartist]

I also read your newest story, it’s pretty good and I’m also scared about what’s gonna happen but one thing that confuses me is that I kind of pictured Kafka and Yingxing adopting because Stelle nor Caelus look like their parents and I can probably imagine them adopting two more girls (SW and Firefly) later on in the story.

I get some people have different opinions on that. This is just one of those stories where I'm taking lots of liberties playing around with things.

Personally, if we're talking canon-adjacent, I do love the idea of Kafka and Blade adopting Stelle/Caelus who were test tube babies out of a lab. I know Blade joined the stellaron hunters after Stelle, but let me be delulu and think of all the adorable ways Blade was a dad to the twins. So on this track, I've considered a little headcanon: What if Kafka and Blade had to donate their DNA to this Test-Tube-Baby project as a condition of joining the Stellaron Hunters? What if Stelle and Caelus actually ARE related to KafBlade.

And so I'm leaning into that little headcanon of mine for this story. As for Silverwolf and Firefly, you'll just have to wait and see where they appear. ;)

[thenovelartist]

You’re not going to believe this but Hoyo not only made a new outfit for Stelle that he gave to her, but they made an official DHIL ring that changes from blue to gold. It would’ve been funny if they released this ring sooner because that would’ve also worked for a wedding ring in your story.

oh, I'VE SEEN IT!

It would have been funny if it had been released early enough to put in my story, but oh well. XD All I need now is that ring as a skin in game. I'd SWOON.

Just imagine, Dan Heng slowly putting all these dragon motifs on Stelle. She just thinks "Oh! Gifts from Dan Heng? Of COURSE I'm going to wear them!" But in reality, that man is not-so-secretly marking her as his. At some point, they'll just be married and she won't even realize until their third wedding anniversary. LOL

[thenovelartist]

By Any Other Name - Prologue

Next>>

A/N: And we're back with a new DanStelle story! I've been wanting to do a big AU for a while, and when someone in the DanStelle discord server I'm in mentioned a Childhood Friends AU, I couldn't help but pounce. :D

Very minor disclaimer: Due to it being a Modern AU, I'm taking a bunch of creative liberties with ages, relationships, settings, etc. (Obviously) But I hope y'all enjoy :D

The High Cloud Quintet.

That was the moniker of a group of five law enforcement officers tasked with gathering information on the notorious cult, Sanctus Medicus. It was a name earned when these five strangers-turned-allies went above and beyond their original task of documenting the drug chains this cult held. Ultimately, they found the leader, along with enough evidence to put them away forever. While they captured as many of the head figures as possible, the rest of the disciples scattered like bugs exposed to a bright light.

One decade’s worth of work had led to this moment: the day before the first of numerous court trials to lock up every captured cult member, hopefully forever. This would be the High Cloud Quintet’s final mission together before they would get disbanded. Not that they would never see each other again. They’d forged bonds stronger than tempered iron.

Currently, the five were sitting around a dinner table laden with food and drink, celebrating their success. It was something they’d done countless times before, which made the fact that one of the five failed to reach for her drink very noticeable.

“Um…” Baiheng sheepishly began, “I’m gonna have to be left out of this one.”

Three of the remaining members turned to their resident machinery expert, concern etched on their faces. The last person at the table simply looked at his wife of one year with a gentle grin.

“You’re pregnant,” Jingliu, the leader of their group, realized.

“Surprise,” Baiheng confirmed.

Jing Yuan, the strategist, was the first to shine a smile her direction. “Congratulations!” He raised his glass. “A toast to Baiheng and Dan Feng.”

“To a new chapter,” Yingxing, the weapons expert, spoke as he lifted his own glass.

“Where one story ends,” Jingliu concurred, raising her glass to join the others. “Another begins.”

“May this one be much sweeter compared to the last,” Jing Yuan finished.

“I will toast to that,” Dan Feng, the diplomat of the group, finally spoke up. With one hand, he raised his cup in toast; the other, he rested on his wife’s knee.

“I can’t drink,” Baiheng said, reaching for her glass. “But I’ll join the toast. I’m already liking this story much better than the previous.”

The chinking of glasses was akin to the chime of bells ringing in a new year.

“Well, I must admit my surprise,” Jingliu remarked. “You two wasted no time in starting that new chapter.”

With an awkward chuckle, Baiheng set down her full glass. “Uh… it was a surprise to us, too. It probably would have been better to wait a little while longer, but oh well! I’m excited.”

“How far along are you?”

“Eight weeks. I wanted to tell you earlier,” Baiheng continued, smacking Dan Feng’s shoulder. “But a certain stubborn husband of mine was all, ‘it’s too early; just wait a bit.’”

Dan Feng gave her a soft smile. “It was a reasonable request to wait and confirm the fact.”

“Practical as ever,” Jing Yuan commented. “Well, with us being disbanded, I guess now’s as good a time as ever. Are you planning on retiring, Baiheng? Or are you going to shift to desk duty?”

“Retire,” Dan Feng sniffed, nose in the air.

“That’s what he wants me to do, anyway.” Baiheng stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m not so sure, though. We’ve all been through so much. I don’t mind settling down some, but do I want to settle down that much?”

“You could get a different job entirely,” Yingxing suggested. “Your skills go beyond that of maintaining the vehicles of the force. Surely they’d be in demand in other sectors.”

“True,” Baiheng agreed. “I guess we’ll see how things go. Everything’s a new adventure, right?”

“You have time to think about it,” Jingliu assured. “You could also wait until after the baby is here to make that choice. You’ll probably feel differently when you’re actively taking care of a child.”

“You’re probably right.” Baiheng rested a hand over her abdomen. “I just don’t want to be left behind while everyone is out doing big things.”

“Yingxing,” Dan Feng said, a teasing lilt to his voice and mischievous sparkle in his eye. “You could fix that.”

Yingxing quirked a brow. “How so?”

“Did you not just get married yourself?”

“Oh!” In contrast to her husband’s wicked teasing, Baiheng’s grin was pure excitement. “That would be adorable if we could have kids close in age. They’d be besties, just like you two.”

Jing Yuan struggled to stifle his amused snort while Jingliu successfully hid her smirk behind her cup.

A sneer twisted Yingxing’s lips. “Baiheng, I severely doubt Kafka wants children in the first place. She isn’t exactly… maternal.”

“Come on.” Baiheng lightly punched his shoulder. “Give your wife some credit. She was a huge help when breaking into the cult’s trafficking center and getting all those kids out.”

“She was the one who dug up the information on that center in the first place,” Yingxing said. “She was simply following through on her own information and doing what needed to be done.”

“Yes, but considering her ties to some very shady organizations are coming to light,” Dan Feng continued, “Don’t you think it’s best if she were to lielow for a while?”

“Are you implying I get her pregnant to force her to settle down?”

Dan Feng shrugged, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. “If that’s your interpretation, then it does not matter what I’m implying.”

Jing Yuan good-naturedly slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Yingxing, you knew what you were getting into when you decided to marry a former mercenary turned our number one informant.”

“Jing Yuan,” Yingxing challenged, “why can’t you provide a childhood friend to our lovely couple here?”

“I’m not married.”

“You have plenty of options throwing themselves at you,” Jingliu teased.

“And I have plenty of time to strategize which one would make the best marriage partner,” he brushed off with a wink. “That just leaves you, Jingliu.”

Challenging glint in her eye, she leaned forward, casually swirling the alcohol in her glass. “When you find me a man who isn’t afraid of how easily I could put him in a coffin, present him to me, and I’ll consider it.”

“It would be a shame for your martial prowess not to be passed on,” Baiheng teased. “Maybe I’ll hold interviews for potential studs while I’m off duty.”

A round of laughter rent the table, Jingliu’s being the loudest of them all.

The conversation never ceased, the teasing and banter going long into the night. Some things would never change, even though the world around them did.

~~

Baiheng had been mostly joking when she’d been pressuring the others about giving her child a childhood friend. She hadn’t expected Yingxing and Kafka to actually do it. Then again, they weren’t expecting to get pregnant in the first place.

Yet their two little accidents were born but days ago, six months after Baiheng had brought her own baby into the world.

“Meet your cousins, Dan Heng,” Baiheng whispered to the precious baby boy she cradled against her chest.

“This one’s Stelle,” Kafka said, reaching down to stroke the baby’s cheek. She then reached toward the second one. “And Caelus.”

“Born in that order?” Baiheng asked.

“Yes. One and a half excruciating minutes apart.”

Yingxing came up to rest a hand on Kafka’s back. “And yet, you did extremely well.”

“Good, because we’re never doing it again.” Giving her husband a pat on the chest, Kafka then turned to Baiheng. “But I suppose if it was going to happen, then it is nice for them to have a cousin their own age.”

“Starlight,” Dan Feng quietly spoke to Baiheng. “Didn’t you want a picture of the three of them together?”

“I did,” Baiheng confirmed, looking pleadingly at Kafka. “Please.”

“I don’t mind.” Kafka moved her twins apart in the crib, allowing Baiheng to place Dan Heng between the two swaddled babies. Seeing how tiny the twins were made Baiheng realize just how big her boy had gotten in such a short period of time. It made her feel sentimental for the moments mere months before.

“A crime-fighting trio if I’ve ever seen one,” Kafka mused.

“Shh.” Baiheng held a finger to her lips. “No. They need to stay small and safe forever.”

“Considering their parentage,” Yingxing remarked. “I would not count on that.”

Dan Feng smiled, but there was a tinge of sadness in his eyes. “It would be best if they would only stay friends. They need not experience what we have.”

Yingxing hummed. “That, I cannot disagree with.”

Baiheng took no less than ten photos, trying to get the most perfect one. She was only interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

“I’ll bet that’s Jing Yuan,” Yingxing remarked, already heading toward the door.

“Or Jingliu,” Dan Feng said, following behind.

“I’m going to put dinner in the oven,” Kafka remarked, slowly making her way from the room.

“You did not cook,” Baiheng said, voice flat with disbelief.

“Absolutely not. I sent the hubby to get freezer meals. What else is a husband good for?”

They shared a chuckle.

Baiheng looked over the trio still lying in the crib. “You heard your daddies: friends only,” she told all three babies. She reached down to gather Dan Heng into her arms. Cradling him against her chest, and enjoying every second of it, she whispered against his fine black whisps of hair, “But, if two of you want to be a little more, then I won’t stop you. After all, the only thing cuter than childhood friends is childhood sweethearts.

“Although…” She chuckled to herself as she made her way from the room. “Knowing your dads, my guess is they’ll let that happen over their dead bodies.”

[thenovelartist]

Did you play 4.3 yet? If so, what are your thoughts? Here are mine: They're so many Stellearon Hunter wholesome moments and we get to learn more about Blade. I'm glad to see that he also got so much character development like Dan Heng in Amporehus and they really confirmed that SW, Dannie, and Bladie are softies, but I'm so scared about what's going to AE since the fight and the reveal.

I haven't gotten around to playing it yet. I've been feeling awful lately (autoimmune stuff kicking my butt) so I just haven't felt up for it yet. the most I've done lately is get Blade as a character and slowly build him

But it's exciting to hear that Blade gets some development. I appreciate the depth many of these characters get in HSR, especially when we get to revisit the characters. I'll be excited to see Big Softie Blade and more of the Stellaron Hunter and AE dynamics in general. I don't know when I'll get around to reading it since I'm only just on the upswing again, but hopefully it will be sooner rather than later. :)

(Also, I'll answer your other ask here. I do have some other messages in my inbox, but I don't always answer them if I don't have an answer for them or they get talked about in a different ask or message.)

[thenovelartist]

I know you don’t watch livestreams, but there’s a section in the 4.3 livestream that shows the Stellearon Hunters calling themselves a family! It’s canon now and I want you to see it!

Awwww! I love it. They ARE a family, but it's amazing they canonically admit it. Hehehe! I'll have to go find it now.

[thenovelartist]

Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder - Honkai: Star Rail fanficion

I have no idea of this AshPearl is even remotely in character or lore accurate, but we roll with it anyway.

Inspired by their little conversation in 4.1.

Her inclination had always been art in every form. Pearl was created to not only study but to master this topic. To analyze every piece to ascertain everything from the intention of the subject matter to the purpose of each stroke. In this pursuit, she had amassed stacks upon stacks of studies replicating various artworks in a vast array of styles, all within acceptable parameters of technical accuracy. To that end, it could be said Pearl knew how to paint.

But her greatest fault was that she was incapable of creating anything of her own.

Was it her method of study or her own limitations as an intelletron that had placed her in this position?

"Do you truly think she cared about the artistic value of each stroke when she created World in Canvas?"

A certain man’s words rang through her head like the playback of a recording. Was that what she was missing? Was she too engrossed in the process that it left no room for... imagination? But what was imagination? It was not something that could be studied, justified, or accounted for by any technical measurement. It could not be assigned a value, a chroma, a hex code, a medium, or a material classification. Hence, it could not be obtained. Pearl could only reference other works.

Pearl knew how to paint, but she could never be classified as an artist.

A part of her that could not be identified broke at that conclusion. She had but one pursuit of life, and she could never reach the end. Conclusion: she was a failure.

Pearl stared at the canvas before her. Blank white; pure and perfect. This should have been the moment she studied her reference of the day, deciding what colors to mix or what brushes to use to create the brushstrokes. But there was no reference to be had.

Instead, his visage haunted her mind. That specific snapshot in time sat in the forefront of her mind, bold as a violent brushstroke, bright as the purest chroma. A Galaxy Ranger shooting her a glance over his shoulder, his arm raised to tip his hat. His lips were tilted in a smile that was 42% cocky, 36% self-depreciating, 13% polite, and a remaining 9%... something unidentifiable.

Something burned in her circuits. She wanted to study that smile. She wanted to see it. To touch it…

As she stared at the canvas, she itched to reach for a brush. If only she could put this image from her memory into reality. If only she could print it out, if only… if only…

She could make it materialize on canvas.

Her body moved without her giving it specific instruction to do so. The first paint she reached for was ultramarine violet, and she squeezed it on the palette in abundance. The paint colors that followed were titanium white, Payne's gray, raw sienna, alizarin crimson, and a touch of Prussian blue.

She reached for a pencil and ruler, drawing a grid on the canvas to match one she artificially imposed on the image in her memory. The ruler was quickly forgone, and she transposed the image with as much accuracy as possible onto the large canvas before her.

When pleased enough with her progress, she surrendered the pencil in favor of a palette knife. Using every asset available to her as an intelletron, she picked each color in this image, ascertaining its specific hex code before mixing every necessary color. One by one, she organized the paints by value and hue on a large piece of glass.

Finally, she dropped the knife and reached for a brush, only for her fingers to hesitate. How did one paint? Where did she begin? When studying a piece of art, the instructions for each stroke were already there. Even if she had a perfect photo reference, how did one place the strokes on the canvas when she had no guide?

The artistic value of each stroke...

She opened her eyes. Today would be the day Pearl taught herself how to override her own programming. It was not each stroke that made a painting but a collection of the whole. Today, she would be forced to fail in the pursuit of this theory.

She snatched a large brush, mixing a puddle of deep red-violet paint thinned down with medium to glaze over the canvas. She tapped the bristles to the canvas, watching this paint drip like tears down the perfect white, then boldly laid down the first incorrect stroke.

~

Ashveil could not say he particularly liked his current situation, one that forced him to talk with a woman dangerously entrenched within the IPC. Worse yet, he was growing too familiar with this office for his liking.

Maybe that familiarity was why the appearance of a canvas painting caught his attention. And, much to his chagrin, he was captivated by the subject matter.

“A failure,” Pearl remarked. “Ignore it.”

As if he could. “Now, now; let’s not be too hasty.” As though lured by the inescapable gravitational pull, he walked over to it. “What makes you come to that conclusion?”

“It is inaccurate,” Pearl claimed.

“Compared to what?”

She stared at him, her eyes studying him without the sharpness she normally aimed at him. “The real thing.”

His heart skipped a beat, and that knot forming in his stomach was making it hard to breathe. “Who says it has to be accurate?” he said, his voice a little unsteady. That was embarrassing. “It’s a painting.”

“But it is an affront to the subject to fail to capture their essence.”

He looked back at the painting. Failure to capture their essence? He might as well be looking in a mirror. “If I may,” he started. He swallowed, hoping that would get rid of the odd warble in his voice. “Any man’s pride would swell the size of Dovebrook if a lovely lady decided to paint them.”

“Is your ego so little that a failed painting would inflate it to such a degree?”

“Are you so detached from humanity that you cannot fathom the honor?”

Her head tilted.

He pointed out the window. “You have a world before you, filled with thousands of things you can paint. And yet… how much time did you spend on that painting?”

“Twenty-five hours, thirty-four minutes, and seventeen-point-seven seconds.”

“Anyone would be honored that someone decided that they were worth twenty-five and half hours of investment.” He looked at the painting, one that portrayed him as a dashing protagonist of someone harboring a deadly secret. “Particularly when they are humble enough to recognize they aren’t much of a subject.”

“On the contrary,” Pearl countered. When he turned back to face her, she’d somehow managed to sneak up on him, now by his side rather than by her desk. Once again, her sights were on him. He shouldn’t care how much she studied him—it was on par for an intelletron of her status and tendencies to observe everything—but he couldn’t help but notice that instead of sharp scrutiny, her gaze was now soft, thoughtful, almost… appreciating. “You strike a dashing figure.”

Oh. Oh. That hit was… discombobulating. He had to focus on his breathing to reregulate it. “Oh, darlin’,” he muttered, tipping down his hat as he turned back at the painting, “you’re not helping.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” Clearing his throat, he crossed his arms. He tried to think of how to steer the conversation back on track, but his thoughts were surprisingly muddled. “Anyway, I can’t say I’m some professional when it comes to art. You’re going to have to tell me why you think it’s a failure.”

Pearl looked at the piece. “Three points, all stemming from technical inaccuracies of painting a piece using a reference photo from my memory logs. The first issue are the brush strokes themselves. However, going into this, I recognized this would be the ultimate downfall of this piece.”

“The ultimate downfall?”

“Studying from life has always resulted in failure,” Pearl acknowledged. “I am at a technical level where I can accurately copy the artwork of others, for I have devised a way to dissect and emulate their art process. However, when it comes to creating my own, there is no measure to assess my failure vs success. Furthermore, since life cannot be perfectly emulated, one can say any artwork created from it can never live up to its reference. Therefore, can it ever be marked as success? By that logic, what else could it be than a failure.”

Ashveil studied the piece, mulling over her words in his mind. Unfortunately, the ones that stuck out most were ‘a reference photo from her memories’. This particular moment of him was considered important enough to be considered ‘reference material’ to a bigshot woman like her?

He didn’t know how to process that with any amount of level-headedness.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re too objective?”

“Objective?” she repeated, her word rolling off her tongue as though it were a foreign concept.

“Take it from your average viewer; art has no measure of success or failure. I’ve seen some of the ugliest damn pieces in my life at an auction house. By all means, I’d call them failures, yet there are people ready to throw their money at it, usually numbers with five, six, seven zeros at the end. Then walk around downtown Planarcadia, and there’s a street artist with a pencil who can draw your likeness in a few minutes, charging scraps for their work when they should, in my opinion, be charging more for their talents. So, who are you to decide that simply because it does not live up to your metric of technical perfection, it’s automatically marked as a failure? Aren’t there other ways to assess art than clinically?”

Pearl looked at the piece, her eyes pinching at the corners as though in pain. “You once asked me, ‘Do you truly think she cared about the artistic value of each stroke when she created World in Canvas?’" she murmured. “I know… no other way to assess art.”

“Then let me make the assessment for you,” he spoke. “It’s beautiful.”

“I hesitate to take assessment from the subject of my painting, particularly one I have insulted in such a manner.”

“When a detective as talented as I fails to find this supposed insult, I fear you might be that particularly talented.”

Her eyes narrowed. There was the sharpness in her eyes he was familiar with. Oddly enough, it caused him to smile rather than frown this time. “Or, you could be particularly blind.”

“You said there were two other reasons this piece was a failure,” he continued. “What are they?”

She reached for his arm, the one holding powers ravenous enough to consume a planet. “This.”

His gut plummeted to the floor. “Yeah, this would ruin a piece, wouldn’t it? The power behind this is deadly. It’s hardly pretty to look at—"

“On the contrary.” Pearl took hold of his wrist, dragging his arm closer. Using her fingers, she traced the swirls that snaked up his arm. “There is artistry in the marks. It is aesthetically pleasing to look at. For those possessing sharper eyes, it could be considered intricately beautiful.”

The lightning skittering up his arm and through his chest was powerful enough to stop a man’s heart. “Well…” His voice cracked. He swallowed. “You’d be the first to think so.”

Still holding his arm, she turned to her piece, tracing the visible marks she’d painted. “Looking at it now, I did not do it justice.” She turned back to his arm, retracing the marks. “If I had been more careful to study it, perhaps that would not be among my failures.”

“Study all you wish,” he acquiesced. He felt like he was turning to putty in her hands, quite literally. She needed to let him go, but he didn’t want to be the one to tell her.

With a slow-growing frown, she released his arm. “Forgive me.” She gave a slight bow. “I was too forward. Even with such access, I fear it will be a worthless endeavor.”

Her missing touch… it was more disappointing than he wanted to admit. “What’s your last critique of this piece?”

She looked at the painting, studying it with that same thoughtful expression before reaching for his smile, her fingers brushing over his lower lip until they reached the corner.

He pursed his own. She wasn’t even touching him, so how did he feel a buzz as though she were?

“What frustrates me the most,” Pearl confessed. “Is my complete inability to render your smile correctly.”

His brow furrowed. “The… smile?”

Her fingers left the painted lips, only to touch her own in thought. “You gave me a parting grin when you left. I was able to decipher most of the emotions behind it. However, there was something underneath that still to this day eludes me.”

His eyes were drawn to his image; specifically, to this smile she studied so fervently. He had to warn himself to hold it together as he forced his mind to think back to that moment she’d depicted. “How does one decipher a smile?”

“Over-confidence: your favorite façade that is incapable of hiding your self-depreciation. Some politeness stemming from habitual dealing with clients.” She looked over to him, her brow furrowed. “What else am I missing?”

Huh, she had the making of a detective herself. How could she call it a failure, a mockery against him, when in all reality, she’d laid him bare? Did the last emotion she missed bother her that much? To her, it might be a question deserving of a simple answer, but to him, well… if he were being honest, if one emotion had to stay hidden, he was happy it was that one.

So he gave her a chagrined grin and shrugged. “I can’t say I recall.”

“And yet…” She reached forward, taking his chin in her hand and pulling her close.

Bam! His heart leapt out of his chest with the voracity of an aeon.

“It is in that grin of yours again,” she finished.

He swallowed hard, an almost failed endeavor considering the lump still in his throat. “My lady,” he spoke, probably not half as smoothly as he envisioned. “I think now is the best time to learn how to paint a particularly elusive topic.”

“Elaborate.”

He took her hand from under his chin. “Secrecy.” He then kissed her knuckles before standing, forcing distance between them.

Her brow furrowed doubtfully.

“Madam Pearl,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze. “I fear the only flaw in this painting… is that of your own perception.”

“I reiterate: I doubt your ability to be objective as the subject of the painting.”

“Then paint something different, and give me the chance to prove you wrong.”

Her eyes narrowed again, but the sharpness wasn’t there. Instead, she seemed confused. Had he managed to get the upper hand on her one time? He really was an incredible detective. “Secrecy,” she whispered. “Is that… truly the answer to the emotion in your smile?”

No. By aeons, no. It was a very specific, very potent emotion that he shouldn’t have, wished to get rid of, yet grew in intensity by the second. A woman incredible as she, stunning in her talents and sharp in her abilities, had called his scars beautiful. How was a man, even one old enough to know better, supposed to temper the swell of infatuation?

Deduction: he wasn’t. But at the very least

She didn’t need to know.

[thenovelartist]

Is it weird that I now want to see more BaiFeng fics based on the answers from the previous ask?

I don't think it's weird. Sometimes, ships grow on you unexpectedly. XD

Maybe one day I'll write that little idea of mine out, but I'll warn "don't count on it." I'm in a little bit of a writing slump lately and while ideas are hard to come by, motivation to sit down and invest in stories is.

(But NGL, kinda been enjoying the break. Finally sat down to read some books a friend got me for my birthday, some manhwa I got myself as a birthday treat, and recently an otome game I've been eyeing went on sale so splurged with that.) I don't know when I'm gonna actually get back into a regular writing schedule, but I'll try to get there sooner rather than later. ;)

[thenovelartist]

When I saw the idea you added in your Amphoreus series, it actually made perfect sense! It actually made me wonder, would the High Cloud Quintet know about Dan Feng and Baiheng’s relationship and they just think about it in the regular timeline?

Thank you! I'm glad I could write Dan Feng/Baiheng in such a way that it made sense. I remember I was hesitant on the ship at first but it kinda grew on me the more I thought on it, just because of the reasonable motivations it would give Dan Feng later on.

As for if they knew, there was a part of me that wanted to write a little bonus on that but I never got around to it.

My headcanon:

Jingliu knew. She knew everything. Being the only other woman in the HCQ, I like to think she and Baiheng were close. She knew how Baiheng felt about Dan Feng before they were ever in a relationship, knew when they got together, knew when they got married. Heck, I'd think she would even make sure they could get a room every once in a while for them to spend time together, but would make sure neither realized what she was doing. Like, she knew.

Blade figured it out as time went on. I love the idea of a whole love triangle between Blade, Dan Feng, and Baiheng going on because that also gives Blade reasons to do what he did. He didn't know they were married, but he did pick up on Baiheng leaning toward choosing Dan Feng. He tried harder to impress her in those times, never officially giving up on her. He wouldn't until she officially turned him down. She never got the chance to before she died, hence he did something incredibly stupid alongside Dan Feng.

Jing Yuan didn't know. He was completely left out on that. He would have only come into that information later down the line, when Jingliu mentioned something about Blade and Dan Feng being lovesick. He would have been cross examining every interaction between those three in his memories and smacked himself for being stupid. He's been extra aware to notice relationship dynamics ever since. But it wouldn't' be until much later (like somewhere in the "present" HSR timeline) that he would learn the full extent of it. That Blade and Dan Feng weren't just competing for Baiheng's hand, but that Dan Feng and Baiheng were full on married. He'd begin to fit these last puzzle pieces together after Dan Heng talked about all the revelations he had with Dan Feng on Amphoreus. And then he'd go to Jingliu in prison to tell her. That's when he'd learn that Jingliu knew. She'd always known.