Chapter Text
Tears blind Shin-ah as she runs, stumbling over half-melted skulls, feet crushing bony fingers with abandon.
What use is she?
Jae-ha was veritably drowning in ghosts, more than even Zeno, entirely oblivious to her useless efforts to peel them away. Kija was engulfed in a storm of his very own, a miniature typhoon of scales like butterflies that burned Shin-ah's fingertips. Neither of them could see her or hear her screams to please, leave! Worse still, neither seemed to feel her presence- yet she could feel theirs, twin wildfires in green and white. Shin-ah didn't understand any of it- still doesn't. So she runs on ahead, spurred on by more memories that aren’t hers.
It has been a long time -long enough for bodies to rot and insects to clean bones of flesh- but people have found their way into this tomb before. Before those nameless sorcerers imbued the statue -monument, built by descendants, Shin-ah now understands- with a spell to force the livid ghosts into slumber. People found their way in and when the howling ghosts pushed the monument back into place, found themselves trapped. All other entrances are long since collapsed or blocked. Without water, a person will die within a few days...but those poor travelers were dead long before that. Like nightmares that linger too long in the morning light, images are branded over Shin-ah's eyes- bloody nails ripped from fingers raw from uselessly digging-
Shin-ah tastes bile, remembering Jae-ha's sallow face. He can't hold out forever. Sooner or later, the ghosts will possess him too, and-
Everything stops.
Shin-ah's stomach flips; her heart is hollowed out in an instant and her mind is an overturned carriage, wheels turning and turning and stuck in quagmire disbelief-
There is Hak. Not a step behind...Yona.
Shin-ah doesn't think, can't think -only one thing is whirling through her mind and that's it's not safe, she has to run - as she flies toward the pair of them, feet barely touching the ground- there's a wordless scream and Shin-ah doesn't know if its hers or another Seiryuu's-
The torch's flame flickers and winks out.
The world rips apart in a lightless explosion and she falls-
The whirling stops so suddenly Shin-ah is left reeling. Solid ground under her feet, she thinks, and she should be relieved, except...it's the between realm all over again. Shin-ah whirls on her heel. There's neither ground nor sky, no rivers of forgotten dead, no misty grey- just a nothingness that hurts Shin-ah's eyes to peer into.
Something shifts in the darkness, a sluggish movement that Shin-ah feels more than sees.
She peers into the nothing, drawing shallow breaths, a dull ache building behind her eyes.
...it's difficult to sneak up on Shin-ah; the Blue Dragon's eyes let her see through things that would otherwise conceal...but difficult is not impossible . She wasn't born knowing to glance around and watch for movement in her surroundings...she remembers an instance years ago: she'd been hunting with only her sword; nobody would lend her a bow even if she'd had the skill-
...she remembers standing ankle-deep in snow, huffing clouds of breath, when some feeling crept over her. The weight of a voracious, bloodthirsty, intelligent gaze, the dropping realization that she had without noticing slipped from predator to prey, the instinct to run roaring like a typhoon.
That feeling coils in Shin-ah now, twining through her stomach and up her spine. Her fingers twitch for her sword but she dares not move.
There in the dark, there is something massive and ancient...and so very still.
A second drags by, and another, and swells to a minute before Shin-ah thinks of moving. That thing...whatever it is, it's slumbering. Shin-ah exhales. Find Yona. Warn her. This is what she must do now. She acted without thinking, again. Closing her eyes, Shin-ah thinks back, rerunning every half-second.
...oh. She’d charged at them...specifically, toward Yona. Had fallen. Memories that were never hers stir.
No-
Shin-ah turns in place, stomach roiling. She had been sent to the in-between realm when the old Blue Dragon possessed her. So....logic said that Yona would be flung there if Shin-ah possessed her. To that endless grey- alone-
I didn’t mean to-
But that never mattered, did it?
Shin-ah braces herself against the sneering, mocking whisper. Think, think, she hisses to herself. If she’d stolen Yona’s body, she would be seeing the mausoleum through her eyes. She raises calloused fingers that are nothing like Yona’s slender ones. Lifts her head toward suffocating darkness. None and every possibilities to eliminate, and nowhere to begin, ignorant as she is.
...is she alone? No sooner than the horrible question slinks up -and why is it twisting her stomach when she should be relieved? She can follow the link to the other Dragons back home again, no worries about leaving Yona here except it’s not the in-between and Ao and Abi aren’t here and what if she can’t- than something catches in her periphery.
A flash of dawn-scarlet.
Shin-ah turns. Her mind is muddled and her legs won't move. She wants to run forward and she wants to flee. Her tongue lies flat and dead in her mouth and the tears that have plagued her all day won't come.
Yona has no such hesitation. "Shin-ah!" she calls, running toward the older girl. Her lips spread into a glowing smile and all Shin-ah can think is I don't deserve this. Still beaming, Yona catches Shin-ah's hands in her own. Her touch is spring sunlight. "Thank goodness, we were looking for you!"
Dangerous, some part of Shin-ah reminds herself. She yanks her hands away, trying to ignore the hurt that flashes over Yona's face. Stepping back, she works her jaw. Her mouth opens but no words come. "...Yona..." Shin-ah manages. The name is a prayer in her broken voice.
Yona says nothing. Her smile is gone now, and those amethyst eyes are liquid-soft. Her hands hang at her sides as she searches Shin-ah's face.
Shin-ah glances away, lashes dipping. She thinks about ghosts and memories and scales like butterflies, about Zeno too still and a extinguished torchlight. She doesn't know how to explain it all, let alone tell Yona to run while she can, while the door out is open-
...is it still open? Shin-ah wracks her brain but it's no good; like an idiot she'd been too distracted to notice whether the monument’s door had been open or not. She hadn't heard it close, a small part of her whispers. Shin-ah shakes herself. "Don't come to me," she whispers. "It's- not safe."
Yona's brows furrow. "Shin-ah?"
Shin-ah looks away. Those lavender eyes, somehow now painful to look into, are still searching, yet Yona remains silent.
Yona is impossibly patient, Shin-ah thinks, and this is another thing she will forever be grateful for. She has to -somehow- show Yona that it isn't safe, that she needs to get away...Shin-ah swallows. Her mind bubbles with panic, thoughts swirling and flying apart before they cross the gap into words. "Souls," she begins, "that bear strong grudges are targeting everyone." The words sound stilted even to her, her voice jerky with its weird pauses and probably still too flat.
Shin-ah plows forward. "Right now...I can't control my body." She remembers Zeno slung over her own shoulder, the spirit's jeers. "I...used my power on Zeno," Shin-ah says. Her voice breaks as fresh realization strikes: what if it had been someone else he targeted? Anyone else? A sob claws from her throat, and the dam shatters. Tears pour down her face, blurring her vision. Her frame quakes.
Yona sweeps forward, and Shin-ah doesn't have the will to push her away. She folds, melting into the shorter girl's embrace. Selfish, a voice in Shin-ah's heart mutters. The older Seiryuu was right about one thing: she is dangerous.
It would have been better for everyone if she had just stayed in that mountain from the beginning, if she'd just refused Yona's request to come with her...
Selfish, Shin-ah thinks again. She is absolutely selfish. Those few words -I don't care if you're cursed- had been the pebble to set off a landslide. With those words, Shin-ah now realizes, she saw a chance for happiness. She took it. Like a fool, she took it...and this is where that one second of idiocy has led.
A numbing weight settles deeper over Shin-ah. She knows what she must say -leave, please leave me here- and she cannot summon the voice. Every second that passes brings higher risk of Yona and Hak, Jae-ha and Kija dying in these catacombs, Shin-ah knows this and yet...she can't. She can't.
She cannot be alone again.
They stand that way for some time- seconds or hours, Shin-ah cannot tell. Too soon, Yona steps back, palms still at Shin-ah's sides. Liquid amethyst finds gold. "Shin-ah," Yona murmurs. "What on earth is holding you down?"
Shin-ah blinks through tears. "Seiryuu," she offers in a hoarse, brittle whisper. The one she's talking about has no other name; there was no one to miraculously appear with a name for him. "...from...long ago."
"Seiryuu from long ago?" Yona echoes.
Shin-ah offers a shaky nod. She presses a palm to her face and fumbles with her next words. "That...that person's heart was conveyed to me...there was a Seiryuu village here a long time ago." Gods. She remembers every house and field. A dozen or more viewpoints, superimposed and crammed into her head. She knows the village square, the lanterns, the storefronts, the quarry...the mausoleum. She remembers them burning, vividly as if she’d lived through it. "One day, it was suddenly attacked by bandits."
Yona's face turns ashen.
"The villagers took the Seiryuu that was still an infant and..." Shin-ah swallows a lump. "Locked the bandits underground." The other entrance had caved in years before; there is only one way in or out. Shin-ah- no, Seiryuu had watched in dizzying terror as they laid boards over the stairway and heft stones on top. He'd howled as he sprinted past startled bandits for the thinning beams of sunlight- they said they would come back for him-
Shin-ah clenches her hand around her wrist, fingernails digging into skin. She has to finish. "They...used the previous Seiryuu as a decoy." Shin-ah presses her fingers to her stomach. Drags them over the scar there. Memories superimpose upon each other: blood pouring out over a dusty road, blood pouring out onto grimy stone- she gulps air. "The Seiryuu fought with the bandits and got hurt. He...wasn't able to leave...this place."
What she thinks of too late, what she ought to say: he had clung to the only life he had ever known. "That's the person inside my body right now," Shin-ah finishes.
Reaching up, Yona wipes the tears from Shin-ah's face with her sleeve. She dabs at one eye, then the other. Unknowable emotion swirls in her eyes. When she at last speaks, her voice is low. Level. "Are you telling me that person's story because you're worried about their situation?"
Yona's question rings like a hammer striking a brass bell. Shin-ah's eyes widen. It's wrong- she shouldn't be worried of all things about the person who stole her body and used it to attack her friends...no matter how pitiful he is, no matter how much she...
...yes, Shin-ah does not say aloud. Despite her own inability to communicate, Yona has found the heart of it.
Stepping back, Yona looks up at where a sky ought to be. Her eyes flash. "Shin-ah, clear the way. You're the one who put me to sleep, right?"
Sleep? Neither of them are asleep. Shin-ah shakes her head. Even if they return, even if Shin-ah could somehow keep the other spirits at bay...
They will close the entrance and Yona will die of thirst in the best-case scenario. "You can't..." Shin-ah begins to protest, and then trails off because Yona takes Shin-ah's hand in both of hers, and all Shin-ah can think for a moment is how soft her fingertips are before she jerks herself back to reality. Yona absolutely cannot follow-
"I'll come for you. As many times as it takes."
Shin-ah can only stare. Something slides down her cheek and drips onto her robe. She is crying again.
Yona pulls Shin-ah in this time, their foreheads brushing. "It's okay." She looks up. Her hand cups Shin-ah's cheek. Her eyes are violet steel. Her smile is blazing sunlight. "No matter what you do, our hearts will remain unshaken. Let's go back together, Shin-ah."
Light envelopes everything.
Something pulls Shin-ah through rushing light and dark, the torrent spiraling around her. Then her feet are touching ground and she's windmilling her arms to catch herself. Her fingers pass through a familiar stone wall. She straightens. Looks around.
Hak kneels at the foot of the carved steps, cradling Yona with one arm. He clenches an extinguished torch in his other hand. Smoke still curls from the burned end- has no time passed at all? Hak curses, shifting Yona. Beneath closed lids, her eyes twitch.
Clammy, decayed hands tug at Yona's face. Another spirit leans on Hak's shoulder. Shin-ah drags her eyes away from the two of them. Her heart falls. Above, the statue entrance is closed.
If she had been quicker...if she hadn't disturbed the wretched seal to begin with-!
Shin-ah's teeth clench. She looks at Hak and Yona.
She has to deal with bigger problems now than her failings. Dropping to one knee, her breath ghosts over Yona’s ear. "I will return," she promises, and rises as crimson eyelashes flutter.
Shin-ah doesn’t know what she’ll do yet, or even what is possible. Unable to fight, she has only words now. She hugs herself against the tide screaming helpless, useless. Because maybe she is, like this. Even so…
Let’s go back together.
...Yona will never abandon her. So Shin-ah will never cease protecting her.
She cannot fail.
"They've come this far," Seiryuu is musing in Shin-ah's voice when she enters the room. His gaze -hers?- flicks to her. "But then..."
Zeno frowns at the far wall, ignoring Seiryuu and Shin-ah alike.
Seiryuu flashes jagged fangs. "It feels like Ryokuryuu has reached his limit."
...relief. That’s relief on his face, even if his voice doesn’t hold it. Shin-ah's mouth tightens. Behind Seiryuu, Zeno is struggling to rise. He didn't tie Zeno's legs, she realizes. She marches toward the older Blue Dragon. "You're underestimating Jae-ha," she says flatly.
Seiryuu doesn’t respond to that, except to search the wall -no, what lies past it- and give a little eyeroll.
Zeno clambers to his feet. "You can hustle, you can bustle," he hums under his breath. "But don't...you...
Shin-ah's eyes flash. "And...you underestimated Zeno."
"-CRY!" Zeno's forehead slams into Seiryuu's back. Seiryuu topples, a yelp escaping his mouth. Zeno leaps onto his back, drives his knee into his spine.
"Whoops." Zeno grins. "Sorry!"
Seiryuu snarls, thrashing. Zeno straddles his back and leans back to draw Shin-ah's sword halfway from the sheath. In half a second, he’s maneuvered the sword between his arched back and the ropes-
Shin-ah knows what practiced motions look like so how many times has-
-Zeno wrenches his arms forward, the rope snapping on the blade’s edges and falling away. He leaps to his feet at the same instant the Seiryuu manages to hurl himself onto his side. Seiryuu scrambles up, chest heaving.
Zeno rests the sword’s flat on his shoulder. Stretches out his other arm and sets his hand at his hip. "Now then, I'm free."
Seiryuu's hands fist. It doesn’t hide their trembling. "What will you do? Kill me with that sword?"
Zeno doesn't flinch at the biting tone. His eyes soften. "I can't do that."
For an instant there is only naked relief. Then Seiryuu’s expression morphs again, wariness bordering hysteria clouding Shin-ah’s features. “Right?” He jabs toward himself, eyes too bright. “You’ll hurt this girl.”
"That’s fine,” Shin-ah interrupts. There isn’t so much as a blink in response.
Zeno rolls his weight from foot to foot, doe-eyed, not tensed to lunge at all. "There's that, too, but..."
He shifts Shin-ah's sword, and in a flash it hits her what he's planning. A protest is halfway from her mouth before she quashes it. The rational part of her knows it's Zeno so he'll be fine, no matter what but the rest of her wants to wrench her weapon from him.
She doesn’t move. It won’t do a bit of good. Just watches as Zeno swings the sword back and forth like it’s a stick or a toy. It might as well be, to him.
"It's because all of the Dragons other than Zeno are like Abi, Shuten and Guen's children. I can't help but find you all endearing," Zeno admits. He lifts the sword. "Here I go!"
Shin-ah flinches as he brings it down on his arm. Blood sprays his robes. His hand thumps to the ground.
Seiryuu stumbles backward, mouth agape. "Wha-"
Shin-ah can't tear her eyes away from the blood pouring from the stump. Zeno picks up his chopped-off hand and holds it to his stump. "Ryokuryuu's in trouble, and the candles in this room are almost all used up. It's unsightly, but..."
Unsightly. Shin-ah looks away, a translucent hand shielding her gaze. She can’t block out that awful squelch that means Zeno’s muscles and tendons are lashing themselves together, the papery grind of bones fusing again. Shin-ah is not squeamish, but to watch Zeno’s power emerge…to see it in the unrelenting detail her power gives…
When she looks back at him, Seiryuu looks nauseated. Scales throw candlelight as Zeno lifts his arm. He meets Seiryuu's stare. "I'll be breaking out now."
Seiryuu does not move- by the look on his -her own- face cannot. He knows now: Zeno was never trapped. They both watch, one frozen and one standing back, as Zeno flexes the scaled arm- then charges with a shout.
Knuckles slam into stone. The wall shatters, cracks rippling through stone and the shockwave is enough to knock Seiryuu stumbling and-
Thunderous cacophony-
Shin-ah is frozen in place, paralyzing terror warring with the instinct to duck and fling her arms over her head because she knows that noise it means solid earth has turned to liquid and tunnels are collapsing and floors are giving way and-
Shrieking- they know that sound too, it shouldn’t be surprising when all of them grew up trapped underground-
-Seiryuu sees her. Identical eyes meet and no judgement passes between them; his flinch mirrored her own.
The echoes haven’t quieted when a shout breaks them apart.
“Zeno!”
Kija is here. Alive-
Shaking out his wrist, Zeno steps over the rubble, where a curtain of dust has not yet fallen. "Ryokuryuu, are you alive?" he calls out.
Jae-ha manages a reply, and Shin-ah can breathe. Seiryuu staggers forward to grab the sword Zeno dropped in the chaos.
Shin-ah flings her arm out to block. "Give up-!" Half-pleading. Seiryuu passes right through her without even a wince, as though-
The cold pierces deeper, a twisting knife.
-as though she isn’t merely a ghost, but doesn’t even exist.
The sword wavers in Seiryuu’s grasp as he levels the point at Zeno's back. "Ouryuu, just what the hell is your power?" he demands.
Kija strides toward him.
Seiryuu tenses. His eyes narrow. "Hakury-"
White scales explode. Kija slams Seiryuu into the wall. Shin-ah’s head smacks against stone with an ugly crack. The sword clatters to the ground. Claws dig into Seiryuu's scalp and cheek. "Return. My. Younger. Sister," Kija growls.
Shin-ah's chest tightens. She has to help somehow, she decides. She won’t stand here and wait to be saved and she will not watch her family die here-
She wants to scream and laugh. Unseen by half the people here and ignored by the rest and she has only words and those have never been her strength, what can she possibly do?
She doesn’t know why it hooks her attention. The spirit is one of countless, its form distorted beyond recognition. No human or beast casts a shadow in that shape. Raw anger emanates from it, thick enough to choke on.
“Why?”
The word falls from Shin-ah’s mouth before she realizes it. Somehow, despite all expectations, what is left of the shade responds.
It doesn’t speak. She isn’t sure it’s capable of that. But it shifts, lifting what must be a head. Baleful eyes glow with a dimming light, and that suffocating wrath does not budge.
Mere steps away, Seiryuu is laughing bitterly and saying something now. Shin-ah doesn’t give mind to him, caught by horrific thoughts blooming. It takes a moment to find her voice. “Do...you remember...who it is you hate?”
Ugly petals unfurl. The shade twitches and jerks, spitting wordless snarls.
Desperation laps higher. “Do you remember why?”
She doesn’t expect a response. She isn’t surprised. But her own question hammers home something else: you can only hold onto so much. She’s seen it in the recollections of her own childhood and glanced over in Zeno’s confession. You can remember one thing, but you have to forget the rest.
This spirit has remembered its rage, to the exclusion of the source of it. Pity carves at Shin-ah as she stares down at the shade, struck dumb by this realization. Memories and thoughts and feelings, unrooted and changeable- that’s all the dead are. Memories can be forgotten. Thoughts are fleeting. Feelings can change. Are they -and she includes herself in that word- even real? Can they be called real with their existence so...erasable?
Feelings can change, she thinks again. She witnessed it firsthand, to her horror. Everything she was gone, her very identity drowned by-
Shin-ah kneels by the distorted ghost. Her skin prickles; she ignores the few who see her.
-she underwent that, so she should be sickened by the very idea of inflicting it. Maybe some part is, the same part shamed by spilling blood, the part always ignored. Being merciful...being a good person- that’s a luxury for someone with no one to protect.
A translucent palm lands on the shade. White-hot hatred spikes-
Shin-ah closes her eyes.
She was not an angry child, and it is only now that Shin-ah begins to glimpse the unusualness of that. Frustrations that should have sparked temper tantrums -should have been a catalyst for something greater- instead burned out like so many windblown candles. Then, as now, hatred and fury are swallowed by a whirlpool of despair and something that is not apathy.
Apathy means not caring, but Shin-ah could never not care. It is resignation, an understanding that is the foundation of a worldview that nothing will, can or should change.
The hatred withers, a dry and hollow husk crumbling as the shade deflates. The tone of its grumbling changes. Lowers.
Shin-ah moves from one shade to another. Some are as far gone as the first, but others have managed to cling to scraps of their identities. A Blue Dragon who can’t be older than ten watches Shin-ah with saucer eyes. “That one called you little sister,” she whispers. “I think...someone called me that...too? I-I don’t know. It w-was so long ago. I don’t know I don’t know-”
Shin-ah doesn’t know how to reply to that. “I’m sorry,” she stutters. It goes unheard. She hurries away to other ghosts. Another wants someone only to listen, a request Shin-ah obliges. Others stare back at her with eyes devoid of intelligence.
“-I don’t mind. I’ll bear it all,” Kija is spitting when Shin-ah passes by him. She can’t afford to focus on him, yet she feels the eyes following her as she pries a shade off Jae-ha’s shoulder-
They lied Its fury is a winter storm they lied and then they left
Shin-ah seizes that thought, holds it crumpled in her fists. “Stop it,” she murmurs. “It’s over. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over.”
The ghost slides out of her hands like oil and sinks into stone. It’s not malicious. Not really. Somehow, that doesn’t make things better at all.
She catches movement in the corner of her eye. She ignores it, to focus on the ghosts beside her. One tracks the living Dragons on the other side of the room.
“-the divine protection of the Hakuryuu ancestors is too strong,” Seiryuu is saying, and that snags Shin-ah’s attention just enough that she glances up-
Kija is too slow, he isn’t a fighter and Zeno is supporting Jae-ha and they’re too far anyway and Shin-ah is still damnably helpless-
-Seiryuu grabs Shin-ah’s sword and slashes through the air. Kija stumbles back.
“Don’t!” Shin-ah roars. A shimmering ghost shrinks back as she charges for them. She skids through air to a halt, mind surging. What will she do? Does she expect him to listen?
Of course not.
She plants her feet, watches, and thinks. Seiryuu has backed into a corner, wall on either side of him and sword clasped in both hands. His eyes are held wide, whites visible on every side of those pupils. His lips are parted, his breath ragged.
Kija moves-
“Kija,” Jae-ha warns. Kija stills.
There’s no promise Zeno can save them again.
Seiryuu is a trapped wolf now, hackles raised and every tooth bared. He shifts further back, his back plastered to the wall. Shin-ah can see the balances dip and rise in his head. Loose his power and take the backlash. How long can he hold out before it strikes? And Zeno...can Seiryuu guess the extent of his power? Will Zeno harm one he claims as a great-nephew?
She has only words now. She prays it will be enough. Shin-ah steps forward. Edges between her brother and her older cousin, lifting her hands. “...Seiryuu. Don’t.”
His gaze flits up to her; identical eyes meet again. She knows that expression because she’s made it; he is frozen over with terror. Without the mask to hold him back, his power is coiled tight, an bowstring drawn too far and cutting into fingertips-
The wrong move, and everything breaks.
“Seiryuu,” Shin-ah whispers. “Think.” The request is as much to her as it is to him. “You...want a second chance, right?”
A swallow. Kija fidgets, but moves neither forward nor back. He won’t make the first move, Shin-ah thinks. Not like this, not when the balance is so damningly delicate and his opponent is holding back and on the verge of tears. He is not cruel.
Shin-ah inhales nothing. Gathers up the tangle of her thoughts and lets them unspool. “You stole my body. I was furious. But now...I’m not. I don’t think I could be. I understand it...wanting, so badly, something else. A new start, a second chance... anything other than what you’ve been forced to go through for no reason at all, beside the bad luck of being born into the role of the Blue Dragon.”
She pauses. Goes on. “I know...I grew up alone too. I also lived underground, separated from the sky. It was a little better for me, because my duty meant I could go outside sometimes...but still, I- I know what it’s like to be hated like that...and I wished that I was normal, too.”
Seiryuu’s reaction: nothing at all. He inhales and exhales, jaw still set and tears teeming at the corners of his eyes, from strain or something more Shin-ah doesn’t know-
Her chin dips. “But...you can’t have it -your second chance- like this. My friends won’t give up. Even if you stop Kija and Jae-ha’s hearts, Zeno won’t let that go. If ghosts can be sealed, can’t they be driven out? Surely, that’s possible? Even if it’s just Zeno...he will never stop looking for a way.” She lifts her head. “...and I will never forgive you.”
His eyes finally, finally break away from Kija right as he flinches, land on her.
“Please,” Shin-ah says. He has to get it. “Your hatred for the ones who locked you here and the ones who killed you...let go. They’re gone; you’re the last one left. You don’t need to hold onto those memories forever. Let go, and truly start over from-”
She doesn’t notice the movement until it’s too late: a brown blur through a transparent ankle. Ao darts up Seiryuu’s leg in the time it takes Shin-ah to process that Ao is here and Ao is in danger again and she moves without thinking-
Incredulity or betrayal or anger flash through Seiryuu’s face in an instant. Shin-ah stops dead, hands flying up to show that she wasn’t trying to force him out again, she wasn’t trying to make him uncaring like the other ghosts but her voice is gummed up, any eloquence gone with her hope-
The next instant: Seiryuu’s face twists into something mad, his eyes wildfires. He switches to a one-handed grip, the other arm flinging outward, catching Ao who’s gone to leap at her owner like she does all the time-
“What an annoying squirrel!” Seiryuu hisses, at the same time Shin-ah snarls “Don’t-!”
She’s helpless, useless and Kija is too slow as he raises his arm again-
“You’re in the way!” Seiryuu snarls.
A voice rings out through the chaos.
“Shin-ah.”
Shin-ah halts. Turns. Yona stands in the doorway, back blade-straight and chin high. Her eyes are full of winter sun, burning cold light. Her cloak snaps around her heels as she strides forward.
Seiryuu’s eyes widen further, his breath hitching.
He glimpsed Shin-ah’s memories. Of course he recognizes her.
Seiryuu’s strike arrested, the desperate struggle has been diverted before blood could be drawn. Kija is fine. Ao is fine too; she landed on her feet and ran off to Zeno, so there’s no reason that Shin-ah should get angry. She can’t, not if she wants to…
She fights to keep her voice level. Tries to capture Zeno’s eerie gentleness. “You...keep saying that it’s our -your- fate to be abandoned...hated, because of what we are. But...Yona was the first person who walked up to me and asked me what my name was. I said Seiryuu, and...”
Yona hands Kija a bundle of wrapped onigiri, oblivious to Shin-ah’s faltering words.
“...she insisted that I have a proper name, because that was her way of saying that...I was a person, too. That I wasn’t an abomination.”
Yona squares her shoulders as she marches toward Seiryuu. He looks through her, eyes locked with Shin-ah’s.
Shin-ah plows forward, her voice thinned to a croak. “She isn’t the only one. I’ve met so many people who don’t know and some who don’t care that I’m the Blue Dragon, and I’ve always thought that was impossible-”
A lightning-flash realization. The words are spilled before Shin-ah can process them, and the part of her not locked in place here listens spellbound. “-they looked at me, at you, at everyone else who was like us...and Seiryuu was all they saw or would ever see.”
“Chains made out of fear,” someone says. Shin-ah looks up; another spirit winds among stalactites. A rumble of voices grows as the lingering spirits murmur agreement.
Chains is not something Shin-ah would think of...yet it fits perfectly. Hadn’t she stayed, even when she was grown enough that she could have braved the outside if-
“-fear of unknown was-”
Something in Seiryuu’s expression breaks.
“-can we really hope?”
“Yes,” Shin-ah says. She searches for the one who asked, and cannot find them. “You can hope- you must find the courage. Please, believe me- things can be better. They will be.”
Silence answers. Not the silence of abandonment turning their backs but something…
...warmer.
The world holds its breath.
With every word, Yona has crept closer to Seiryuu. Tears sparkle on his cheeks; she falters. Her voice is feather-soft. “What’s wrong?”
Seiryuu can only stare. “...I don’t know,” he whispers, his voice halfway to a whimper. The image of a cowering wolf, leg caught in a trap and gnawed through muscle, muzzle caked with crimson, resurges. He flinches as his eyes snap toward her. The sword hilt drops from slack fingers and clangs on stone. “What... are you?”
If the question is strange, Yona is unruffled. “Just a human being. I won’t be able to go against you if you use your powers or possess me.”
“She’s...kind,” Shin-ah answers. “Truly, amazingly kind.”
Seiryuu staggers against the wall, digging fingernails into his cheeks. “Why are my legs shaking?” he breathes to no one. “My tears won’t stop- this fear is so great...and I...can’t get near you anymore-”
His legs give out.
Yona embraces the older Blue Dragon. “I heard everything from Shin-ah.”
It won’t do any good to say no, you didn’t, I didn’t say everything I should have-
“-why don't you tell me everything?”
Seiryuu clenches his eyes closed, and speaks. He lays out the barest bones of his life, and Shin-ah wonders, as his words wash over her, if Yona can hear what he can’t say- what, surely, there aren’t words for…
“-I could only curse everything.” Seiryuu gulps air. He crumples somehow more as a battered gaze rises towards a fading spirit. “My friends are only the souls who were left here.”
As if on that note, the spirit blinks out of existence, fingers still curled to beckon. Yona rubs circles on Seiryuu’s shoulder. “Yeah. That's why Shin-ah temporarily lent you her body. Even though you did such bad things to Zeno and everyone, she still pitied you.”
“I didn’t-” Shin-ah begins.
Beneath her touch, Seiryuu stiffens. “...she lent me her body on purpose?”
“Shin-ah is a kind person. Such a very kind person.”
Shin-ah’s protest dies. She ducks her head, ears and cheeks hot. Seiryuu glances to her, then at Yona and back again, a strange, clouded expression settling on his face. Under that ineffable gaze, Shin-ah misses what Yona says.
Seiryuu pulls away from Yona. “That’s enough,” he murmurs, splaying his fingers over his face. “I already knew...no matter how much I struggled, my time wouldn’t return.” Eyes cloud over. His voice softens, uncertain, each word winding through a maze. “I...wonder why...”
Identical golden eyes meet.
“It feels like I’ve been waiting for you to come-”
A thread snaps.
I...I wasn’t done. I still have so much to say. I’m holding on now, with the last of my strength, so…
The first sensation that returns is smell.
...you can hear me, right?
Not quite a stench, not unpleasant but for the memories it carries. The scent of earth -not upturned dirt of fresh-ploughed fields, just stale cave air- clings to the back of Shin-ah’s throat.
I...I just wanted to say...thank you. I was being stupid. Really stupid. I was frightened...no, terrified. But you brought me back from the edge, just enough to see that.
Touch returns next. Cold is nothing new. Drowning out the chill is rough ground against her cheek, her side, her arms. The sensation of not being upright fades in, shoved aside by being sprawled out, knees bent, fingers loosely curled around nothing.
Thank you. For everything.
She feels more than sees the shadow loom over her and a hand drops and fingertips graze her cheekbone-
It’s stupid, but...I hope that we can meet again in our next lives...no. We won’t remember. Neither of us will. Still...still, I’m happy that we could meet.
Her eyes snap open. Shin-ah bolts upright, black blooming and fading over her vision, muscles tensing before she sees the person hovering over her-
“-Yona.” The name escapes Shin-ah’s mouth, reflex more than thought.
Yona peers up at her. “Shin-ah?”
The room sways as Shin-ah staggers to her feet. Her head throbs when she turns it to take in everyone’s faces. Yona, Jae-ha, Kija, Hak, Zeno, Ao. It doesn’t feel real. “I’m...back,” she murmurs. The words solidify it all a bit more, and that’s all she gets out before Kija tackles her in a hug.
“Shin-ah, you’re back!”
Shin-ah manages a nod, Kija’s hair brushing her chin. It’s...she doesn’t have a word that’s enough. Kija releases her. His lips warble.
“Kija?” Shin-ah ventures.
“I’m relieved. I was so worried about you!”
Tears in her own eyes, Yona smiles up at Kija. “Yeah. Everyone was.”
Zeno’s eyes twinkle as he picks up a stubby candle. “Well, that was one rough situation for an old man,” he announces to the room at large.
Shin-ah flinches. “I’m sorry...everyone…” She can’t say the rest- I’m sorry for putting you all in danger just because I was stupid?
Kija squeezes her hand. Her eyes dart to him.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Shin-ah looks away. She can’t not, she thinks. How can Kija be so forgiving? She...if Seiryuu hadn’t listened, if any of the others hadn’t listened...of course, Shin-ah concludes. She can feel a sort of numbness settling around her brain as the facts fall down around her. Kija has no idea what happened...what almost happened. For whatever reason, nobody could touch him.
“-what’s most important is that you’re safe,” Kija says, warmth suffusing his words.
He’s so sincere, and Shin-ah...stops. Any words she might have said turn to glue. Her eyes feel oddly damp-
They are not so far underground that the air is corpse-still and that moving air -something trying for a gentle breeze- grazes the damp corners of Shin-ah’s eyes and it’s cold but not as bad as the realization that bashes her.
-she isn’t wearing her mask.
Shin-ah’s hand flies to her face, fingers splaying across her eyes. She jerks away from Kija, squeaking when her shoulder rams the wall. She shoots a glance toward Jae-ha through her fingers, before looking down. She hadn’t even thought about it- Seiryuu didn’t wear it when he was possessing her, did he…?
Stupid. Careless. Dangerous.
“Your mask is outside,” Hak volunteers.
Yona lists her head, brows furrowing. “Do you...still need it?”
The question drops into the cloud of Shin-ah’s rising panic, and that break is enough. She drags out her exhale. Picks at the knot of nerves growing in her stomach. Do I? Her mask is a shield, separating her from the rest of the world. For their own good. It’s a failsafe, made for the worst-case scenario: if her power wakes and she…
...it’s the one barb he didn’t mean. Just by walking around, the older Seiryuu has confirmed what she dreads to say. Her mask is a crutch.
She beckons to Ao with shaky fingers. Ao scales her leg, her side, and crouches at her collarbone. A fluffy tail brushes her chin as she jerks her head in a no. “...but...it’s a memento,” Shin-ah says. It isn’t a lie; of the things Seiryuu Ao left her, that mask is a hefty one-third. She drags her hand downward. Strokes Ao’s head, and tries not to focus on how exposed she is. “...I feel at ease wearing it,” Shin-ah mumbles before her brain catches up with her mouth. It’s not a lie either.
Yona nods. “I see.” There isn’t any judgement in her tone, and maybe that’s the worst part. Yona turns to the room at large. “Well then, shall we head back?”
“The entrance is closed.” Hak waves his hand, fanning the torch’s scraggly flame. It blazes brighter, then dies to a glow almost immediately.
Shin-ah frowns. Jae-ha mumbles something she doesn’t catch. Before, the entrance could be operated by ghosts because of the enchantments on the seal. If the ghosts are gone…could they break out by sheer force? With Zeno...
“Leave it to me!” Lifting his claw, Kija marches toward the far entrance-
The torch sputters and dies, leaving smoke spiraling lazily up. Hak starts huffing at the burnt end.
“Oh, no,” Zeno says. He shuffles toward the wall, hand groping air until his fingers graze stone. He searches the wall with his hands until he finds an alcove. “The candles went out-”
“The torches aren’t any good, either,” Hak relents. “And Yun’s got the flint.”
“Here, I have some.” Jae-ha tosses a thumb-sized block from his pocket toward Hak. It sails past his head and clatters to the floor.
Hak stares through darkness.“Droopy Eyes. Did you just... throw it at me?”
Jae-ha’s mouth falls open, and he lifts a hand before apparently thinking better of it. “Uh-”
“In a pitch-black room?”
“Zeno thinks that Ryokuryuu is too young to be going senile.”
Jae-ha scowls in Zeno’s direction. Huffs. “So we’re all finally dying happily together, huh?”
Yona’s smile begins to fall. Panic edges her voice. “This...is a problem, huh?”
Stepping toward her, Shin-ah takes her hand in her own. “It’s alright. I...can see.” Yona turns her head toward Shin-ah and ends up looking somewhere over her shoulder.
Still holding Yona’s hand, Shin-ah steps around her and offers her other hand to Hak, the next nearest person. “Hold on.”
There’s a scramble, and Shin-ah finds herself in the center of a tangle before she realizes her mistake. Zeno practically hangs off her arm. Kija is squished between her and Jae-ha. Hak is resting his arm on Yona’s head. She shoves him.
“No,” Shin-ah says, her voice muffled by Kija’s hair. He tries to wriggle away and elbows the back of Zeno’s head. “In single file.”
She isn’t used to telling others what to do. Weirder still is everyone listening. They shuffle around until everyone stands in a line, linking hands with one another. Hak fumbles and grabs Zeno’s hand, and then Shin-ah begins to walk. She leads them between the rows of tombs, into a tunnel.
“Shin-ah, you’re so dependable!” Yona says behind her.
Suddenly, Shin-ah is glad nobody else can see. Ears burning, she looks ahead. Her eyes prickle and itch as warmth -power- trickles into them. That stone is familiar...the entrance is this way.
They walk onward. Shin-ah wonders if Yun is still at camp.
They near a nasty part of the tunnel, where the diggers had left more stalagmites and stalactites. She ducks; Yona is short enough that she doesn’t have to. “Ah...be careful not to hit yourself above,” Shin-ah calls behind her.
“Right-” Kija begins, before there’s a sound of something smacking stone and he yelps.
Shin-ah looks back. Kija is rubbing his head. His hair is askew.
Jae-ha snickers as he weaves around the lowest-hanging stalactite. “Kija, really, you’re so forgetful-”
He walks right into a second stalactite. He clamps a hand over his nose, blood gushing down his lips and chin.
Zeno’s cackle bounces off the stone. “You’re both idiots-”
There’s a crack. Shin-ah whirls around again, and winces. Zeno’s foot has snagged on a rock; he lies face down on rock. He jumps to his feet, apparently none the worse for the broken skin on his forehead and dirt now smeared over his face.
“You guys are entertaining,” Hak mutters. Shuffling forward and feeling for low-hanging stalactites, he manages to avoid a strike to the head of any kind. As they begin their slow march onward, a noise echoes through the tunnels.
Yona stops. Her hand slips out of Shin-ah’s. “What was that?”
“We can hear a strange voice,” Zeno says.
Jae-ha frowns, squinting into the shadows. “It can’t be. More ghosts?”
Had she missed someone? She was sure...Shin-ah concentrates. Her eyes grow warm, and the world brightens. Details sharpen. She focuses on the far wall, then peers beyond. Stone pales, turning translucent like cloth held up to sunlight. The shadowy figure on the other side sharpens-
Shin-ah’s eyes widen. Her power snaps back.
Yun? How...
“It’s coming this way,” Hak says. He throws up a hand to shield his eyes when firelight blazes from around the corner. Yun enters the tunnel. He spots them. Something that must be relief flashes over his face before he scowls at them all, planting a hand on his hip. “There you are, you stupid rare beasts! You’re late, you idiots!” Still, he’s struggling not to smile as he marches toward them all, muttering. “Don’t put me through so much trouble. Idiots! Geez, such a pain.”
Yona stifles a giggle. “Yun, how did you get here?”
“I could hear something from far away, and when I went to check it out, I found another entrance.” Yun holds the end of his torch to Hak’s extinguished one. The tunnel brightens. Yun huffs. He looks from one person to another, his eyes red. “It was dark, I was alone, and the onigiri I brought got cold!”
“Mother!”
“I don’t remember giving birth to you!”
Yona pats his shoulder. “Sorry, Yun.”
“Sorry, Yun,” Kija echoes. “I’ll gladly take the onigiri.”
Yun shoves a square, cloth-wrapped package at him. Kija peels back the cloth, revealing a dozen triangles of rice in neat rows. Taking one, he holds it out toward the others. Shin-ah doesn’t take one.
“Yun, where’s the other entrance?” Hak asks.
Yun points. “This way.”
They follow Yun back through the labyrinth, Shin-ah bringing up the rear. Everyone manages to avoid the low-hanging stalactites the second time around. They pass through the central room, where everything ended -and maybe where everything began, Shin-ah thinks- and she spots something.
There’s a skull on the ground. Bleached by age, lying on the ground in the place he bled out and closed his eyes for the final time. There’s half of a mask, rotted and crumbling even as she lifts it as gently as she knows.
Shin-ah doesn’t know why she lingers as everyone trails after Yun. A final farewell because she’d been silent when he gave his, maybe. Seiryuu’s last words echo as she crouches and lifts the skull in both hands. I’m glad I could meet you.
Is she glad?
Shin-ah doesn’t have an answer. Will not, for a long time.
She touches her forehead to his.
More than dead, he’s gone. But...impossible means something different now, and so perhaps he will hear her anyway.
“Rest,” Shin-ah whispers. She lays down the skull next to the mask.
“Shin-ah!”
Yun is calling her. Shin-ah rises. “Coming,” she answers.
Shin-ah pushes the needle through the layers of canvas, then pulls it, raising it high to pull the twine through. The leather of her gloves scrapes her palms as she repeats the motions, over and over. Her boots cramp her toes. Most worryingly: her neck edges close to uncomfortably warm beneath the heavy fur.
It's to do with being a ghost. Being dead, even for less than a day. Shin-ah knows this with certainty, even if she can't explain it properly. She wasn't numb- but her sense of touch was dampened, and now that everything's normal and right again...
She won’t complain. She'll take it as the price of being seen and being heard, and she'll adjust. She won't cause more trouble than she has already.
Hands still as her gaze dips to sliced-apart canvas. It wasn't her fault; that was the first thing Yun told her when she saw the ruined tent. Yet...
Her hands wielded her sword to destroy these poles and this fabric.
-it wasn't her fault; Yun said so, and Yona and Jae-ha agreed, and then-
A snap of clarity: it’s not about the tent; it’s that it was too close-
-Hak and Kija both said she shouldn't blame herself and Zeno said it was all fine, she couldn't have known. And Shin-ah hadn't been able to stop herself; she broke out halfway between whimper and a snap you don't know how close he was to killing you all-
...Zeno had pulled Shin-ah into a hug; she'd had to bend awkwardly. It's fine, he said again. Zeno can be a shield even against Seiryuu's power.
Shin-ah pierces the fabric again. The needle digs into her thumb as she pushes it between fibers. Zeno's words echo, the bright-eyed smile he'd showed her fixed in her mind's eye, overlapping with another memory not an hour old. He is and was nothing less than sincere.
Zeno can be a shield even-
This whole time, she'd been thinking how lucky it was that everyone made it through the ordeal unscathed but...maybe it wasn't luck. You underestimated Zeno, she said, and now she thinks- she’s guilty of the same. And the implications of that...
It’s a new thought. Different, hopeful in a way that will hurt, one she wants to dismiss out of hand-
...she's not dangerous.
The words fit together all wrong. Since that day -no: even before- there’s been a dread leaning over her shoulder, murmuring what if and one day things will go wrong and with a sentence, Zeno has sent it reeling. She won't have one day to leave for the sake of her friends. Will never have to face that loneliness again. Because...
Zeno can be-
...he shouldn't have to!
How strange it is, Shin-ah thinks, staring down at still hands as the spurt of anger fizzles out, to rely on others. She draws the thread through the fabric, the taut stitch pinching layers of weathered fabric together. Stitch by stitch, she works her way down the jagged tear while her mind drifts.
Seiryuu ruined this tent. Spat on Yun's efforts. Shin-ah ought to be full of righteous anger, but there is only irritation, blunted by weariness and...something more. A lingering unease that things aren't finished yet.
Except they are. It's over. Her kindred are free and passed on, and she's living and whole. It's over.
Shin-ah pulls the thread taut; a hand's width is left. She cuts it with a knife, knots it and clips the excess. Picks up the spooled thread and the needle again.
Seiryuu said he was glad they met.
She shouldn't return the sentiment. He hurt her friends and would have hurt them more. He hurt Ao. He would have goaded the other Seiryuu -some of them didn't know better- into ripping everyone's souls from their bodies like he did to her. He would have killed them all.
She should not be glad that he's found rest.
...their pain was the same.
He was alone and he ran until he was backed into a corner and then he lashed out. She understands this with terrible clarity...and she can't be furious however much she tries. Nor can she be angry at the other ghosts, who just followed where they were lead. Their pain was the same, their fears were the same, their fragile hopes were the same until they weren’t. Seiryuu was a mirror to Shin-ah, the end of a branched road she somehow avoided.
None of her pleas were lies, and that, she thinks, is the heart of it. She wanted to save them -her kin- from the torment Yona saved her from. It’s over, she whispered to one long dead. You don’t need to hold on anymore.
And she doesn’t need to, either.
Shin-ah is nearing the end of her mending when she hears footsteps. She looks up, gives a nod and attempts a smile by way of greeting. She had not noticed the absence of his snores: she is more distracted than she thought.
“Morning, Seiryuu,” Zeno says. He settles down next to her on the log, facing the other direction. Kicking his feet, he leans back to look up at the canopies of the trees and the sky. “Zeno supposes it’s past midnight now, anyway.”
“...I haven’t counted the hours,” Shin-ah admits. She fiddles with the needle and the tent and waits for the shoe to drop.
The silence stretches out across moments, until the air is akin to that in the seconds before fighting begins.
At last Zeno speaks. “Did you meet anyone I knew?”
The words are so soft she thinks she must have misheard and yet even as that thought takes form she knows she has not. Their respective title and name -reminders of who they are- gone, there is only one thing Zeno can mean.
I did, is what bubbles to Shin-ah’s lips. Abi’s face swims before her eyes. A voice filled with cold fury rings in her ears. “In that place-?” she asks instead, praying that he mistakes the anxiety for anything else.
“...they were called gaps, when people still...nevermind,” Zeno says, and there is something stony and crumbling in his tone. Shin-ah is glad that she cannot see his expression.
Moreso that he cannot see hers.
That bastard, Abi called him.
Zeno can take being backstabbed. Threatened. Buried alive among shrieking dead. He’ll charge someone unarmed and trussed up -Shin-ah thinks perhaps he’s the only one in the world who can match Yona for sheer recklessness-
...yet Abi was one of his dearest friends from before. Whether he knows it or not, Zeno holds him dear still...and those words, from him, will cut Zeno in a way he won’t heal from.
The decision is obvious.
“No. I didn’t.”