Archive of Our Own ^beta

One unexpectedly cold summer afternoon, one soul would defy destiny.

Yet, as a butterfly cannot know the flapping of her wings is to create a hurricane, he could not comprehend how much his choices would weigh upon his existence. After all, at the time they were only insignificant choices. 

Things like straying from the path, wandering off. Things that should not affect a young adolescent’s life more than a possible scolding from their guardian. That is Hwei’s reality. 

At thirteen, the forty-five minute walk to the river is a treasured adventure. It can only be done once a week, he’s been told, because he is not blessed with good health, and it is dangerous to go outside a lot. He understands.

The guard appointed to him remains stoic as ever, unbothered. He cannot afford a single distraction, and Hwei, again, understands. He enjoys it, even, as it often feels like he is taking a stroll by himself. He acts like a grown-up sometimes, imagining he is of age and has the authority to go anywhere he wishes.

But today the clouds look angry, and Hwei knows the guard is thinking of cutting the walk short. 

This is usually the case with bad weather. Hwei knows he is in the most danger when it’s cold, and the colder it is the more pain he experiences. So, naturally, he understands. He is well-behaved, a good boy. He understands a lot of things, he knows a lot of difficult words. And it looks like it will rain soon. He might not get to see the river at all today.

In such cases, Hwei prays. 

Quietly, he clasps his hands together and walks a bit faster, hoping the guard won’t notice. The long sleeves of his tunic cover his fingers, his long black hair falls over his face and his heartbeat quickens in his chest. Please, he calls out, in his mind, to the Gods and Immortals above, hoping to reach the Celestial Realm, please don’t let it rain, not yet. Let me see the river, let me play for a moment, that is all I ask. 

In that same exact instant, another young man of similar age is praying for downpour. The balance is met in the middle, it seems, since Hwei reaches the river with only three droplets falling from the skies.

He and his guard leave behind the irregular path of the forest and go down a tiny hill with stone pillars to each side of the entrance. The cobblestone path they’ve followed disappears into the ground. When Hwei’s rich brown eyes meet the clear blue of the water, all adult act is dropped and he is, once again, thirteen. 

He runs to the shore, careful not to get his pants or his tunic wet, and kneels to dip his hand into the water. It is cold but warm all the same.

“Careful, Your Majesty,” the guard says. “We will return shortly, do not stray far.”

How can that be, Hwei wonders. When the river is this beautiful, and the dim sunshine is this perfect. His heart is not greedy, but wishful. Hopeful that these moments will last longer and these images will burn themselves in his mind, so that he can paint them later.

“I understand, Lieutenant Zhao…” For the first time in his life, Hwei doesn’t feel so sure. Maybe it’s because his birthday is near, and the human need for independence grows within him. Maybe it’s because he has already painted this picture dozens of times, and longs for new landscapes. 

Hwei starts to walk along the river, trying to count as many fish as he can distinguish when a sound comes from the forest.

A whisper, a rustling of the leaves. Hwei’s guard is immediately alert and puts a hand over his sword’s pummel. They stay still for a minute. Hwei almost wants to laugh, thinking he should be scared. He is not scared, nor is he anxious. He is, however, curious. 

Nothing else happens for a while, and Lieutenant Zhao seems to relax. Hwei is about to continue his walking when there is a new sound. A thin wood branch breaking in two. 

“Stay here,” Zhao commands before going to inspect. Hwei watches him go carefully up the slope, one step at a time, silent as a shadow. He knows he needs to stay put, like the good boy he is. He must wait until Lieutenant Zhao says it's safe.

But is it not safe? How can it not be? 

His juvenile and naive heart easily wins against his rationality, and all it takes is one step backwards. 

A single, tiny step. Then another, and another. Hwei sees Zhao’s back disappear into the forest and begins to walk in the opposite direction. His hands cover his heart, trying to quiet it down. He holds back a laugh, and his feet move on their own. He moves quickly as he follows the river’s twisted nature, counting the fish. The mountain walls at the sides grow as he ventures deeper, and soon he can only see the very top of the trees over the rock beds. Where does it end, if it ever ends? Rivers don’t end, do they? Maybe at the end lies a waterfall, or a dragon.

He realizes the mountain wall is now three times his height, he had never seen it this tall. He reaches out to feel the rocks with his fingers where the river curves to the left.

Behind the wall, turning this corner, something heavy falls and hits the ground. Then, something light falls and hits the ground. Hwei laughs at the oddity, and the sounds stop completely. He covers his mouth in embarrassment.

“Please, forgive me, do go on.” 

Hwei knows not about the dangers of the world. His soul is innocent, unblemished. It is only natural he would encounter a boy who has experienced nothing but cruelty and inhumanity. 

“Leave.”

His tone is harsh, yet it is received with kindness.

“I am very sorry,” Hwei says. “Do you need help, by any chance?”

“What are you doing here?” 

“Taking a walk, I think.”

“You think?”

“I…may have gone a bit far from where I was instructed to stay.”

At almost the same time, the two boys peek behind the wall. Softness of expensive silk robes meets the roughness of old, worn-out trousers. The stranger frowns, eyeing Hwei up and down. His hands are very dirty, his hair is short and his chest is bare. 

“You… You’re so clean.” He mumbles.

“Yes! And I wash behind the ears, too!” He proudly responds.

For some reason, this makes the other laugh, and Hwei laughs with him.

“Ah!” Hwei tries his best to contain a yelp when he sees blood on the other boy’s shoulder. “You’re bleeding… Oh no, did you fall? What happened?”

He takes a step closer, and the other takes a step back. All humor leaves his features, and he now looks at Hwei with caution. He grabs his shoulder and hides his back. 

“It was a beast. A demon beast.” 

“Then we must get away!” Hwei gets closer once more to grab his hand and, surprisingly, the boy allows this. But he does not move.

“We’re safe here,” he says, nonchalant. “The beast sleeps in my house, not here.”

Hwei does not fully understand the meaning of his words. 

“I see…” He nods. “Then, you cannot return home. Where will you go?” This question goes unanswered. 

“Who are you?” Their hands are still held together.

“My name is Hwei, I… I live close by, through the forest.” Hwei is unsure how much he should tell this boy, as this is his first real encounter with a child his age. He wants to be friends. “I come here every weekend.”

The boy is silent for a moment, then speaks. “You can call me Jhin. Come, help me.” Jhin grips Hwei’s hand and pulls him in, gesturing to a pile of rocks next to a hole in the ground. It is not very big yet. “I need to bury some things.”

Hwei nods, smiling. “Of course, I will do my best.”

Hwei has always been conscious of the time, but today is different. Today is new, and he does not want to go soon. Time slips by as he digs his hands in the soil and moves rocks. He smiles at the boy beside him, who seems to be really confused for some reason. He keeps stealing glances while his eyebrows twitch. Finally, Hwei looks at him directly with a shy smile on his lips. 

“Is there something on my face?”

Jhin’s ears turn pinkish. He stares back at the ground, the hole now three times its initial size. 

“I have never seen a boy like you,” he admits. “You’re weird.”

Instead of feeling dejected, Hwei laughs. “I have never seen a boy like you, either. But…the truth is, I do not see anyone besides my family.”

“That sounds like a nightmare...”

They continue to work, yet the glances are now mutual. Hwei is intrigued by the other, deeply curious, but unable to speak a single question. What are you like? Where do you live, and how? From the looks of it, Jhin is going through something similar. Hwei does not know for certain, though, he finds it hard to read Jhin’s expression. 

A million questions go through Hwei’s mind, a million ideas. The hole seems to be fine now, because Jhin grabs his hands to stop his movements, and with it his thoughts. They look into each other’s eyes and there is only the sound of fishes swimming and the warmth of the gentle rays of sunlight.

“It’s done,” Jhin says. “Cover your eyes. What I bury is a secret.”

Hwei wipes his hands with his clothes enough to cover his face. He nods when he is ready. After long moments, Jhin taps his shoulder. When Hwei uncovers his eyes, the hole is now covered halfway with dirt. What lies underneath is unseen. 

“Thank you for allowing me to help you,” Hwei says, smiling. Jhin looks puzzled.

“You are so weird,” he repeats, but this time, to Hwei, it sounds friendlier. Jhin opens his mouth but before he can speak again a deep, sharp voice cuts through the calmness. 

“Your Majesty! Where are you?!” Lieutenant Zhao’s desperate screams chill Hwei’s spine. He had never heard of him like this.

Immediately, Jhin sticks his back to the mountain wall and signals Hwei to not tell this man, whoever he is, about him. ‘I am not here’, Hwei makes out from his silent lips. 

Unable to process anything, Hwei’s only reaction is to step away from the corner and run to the Lieutenant.

“I’m here!” He cries, waving his hands. “Do not worry, I am safe! There is no danger!” He does not comprehend why his body is moving on its own to protect Jhin, all he knows is that his friend wants to remain secret, like this buried treasure, and he must honor his wishes.

Zhao kneels in front of him and grabs his arms to ensure there are no injuries. His worry eases and it’s replaced by anger. He does not show it, though, but Hwei is perceptive. He notices the slight frown of the lips, the twitching of the eyebrows. 

“Why are you so dirty, Your Majesty?” He says, holding back a sigh. “You look like a peasant, this will not do.” The way he spats the words “dirty” and “peasant” makes Hwei feel bad. He wants to run back and apologize to Jhin, if he’s still there.

“I’m… I’m very sorry, Lieutenant, I was playing with some rocks.” 

“Nothing to worry about, then,” Zhao smiles, still a bit reluctant. “I will never leave your side like that, ever again.” 

As they begin to walk back home, there is a strange flavor in Hwei’s tongue. It is bittersweet, unpleasantly so. He recalls Jhin’s mouthed words: I am not here. Despite everything, he smiles at Zhao and nods. Suddenly, it is very cold. He grips Zhao’s hand tight and walks faster.

“You were only making sure it was safe, I was in the wrong for walking off like that.” Hwei’s voice is timid and small. “Forgive me, Lieutenant. It will not happen again.” It might rain soon.

Black ink dances over a white background. Hwei’s brush moves with precision to showcase a serene scene.

A river, a boy by the shore. It’s the same picture he has painted for a couple of years now, sometimes with more or less details. Sometimes he paints other things, however when his birthday is close he finds himself coming back to this particular memory more often.

In a couple of days, spring will begin, and he will turn seventeen. His ink paintings are all he has left of that boy he was never able to forget. Who was he? What did he bury? Why did he run away from home? Did he return to the “beast”?

Is he alive now?

“This scene again?” Says Lieutenant Zhao. He stands behind Hwei, at his right, with his arms crossed, admiring the strokes.

He’s been Hwei’s personal guard for these past five years, and without much danger or disobedience he has had no choice but to love Hwei like his own son. They have developed a mutual filial bond and, in moments like this, where life seems to stay still, Zhao is the warmest. When Hwei is painting, he’s also rather maternal. Painting has become Hwei’s expertise. He practices every day and has created hundreds of pieces that are beloved in the entire city. He pours his heart into every artwork, making the strokes come alive.

“I enjoy this dream the most,” Hwei whispers as he lifts, slowly, the brush off the paper. He sets it down beside him before resting his hands on his lap. His long sleeves fall over and cover his fingers. He closes his eyelids as he says: “I recall a new detail with each passing night.” 

He has not told Zhao about the boy. Everytime, Hwei disguises the memory as a dream where he plays by the river and a boy comes by. The first and only lie he has ever told.

“And yet, you rarely request to walk to the river. It used to be your favorite activity when you were younger.”

“It has become too cold, has it not?” Hwei says, uncharacteristically nonchalant. He had to protect his friend, even if the chance of Jhin being there was one in a million. It was still too risky. What if he was there, and Zhao thought of him as a threat? Even if Hwei could appease the Lieutenant, Jhin would probably hate him. That is, if he remembered him at all. Soon, his visits became less and less frequent, as the same shore near the slope became too known. “I was afraid…”

There must be something in his colorless voice, or in his sad expression, that makes Zhao reconsider his words, because the man opens his mouth then closes it. Then opens it again, then closes it. He walks to Hwei’s left and finally speaks.

“Snow is melting, flowers are blooming, the security in the city has been reinforced and…” He trails off before softly laying a hand on Hwei’s shoulder. “And you are older now, more mature. Perhaps Your Majesty can take a longer walk down the river, while I wait at the entrance.”

Hwei’s eyes open wide in a heartbeat, and he turns to look at the Lieutenant. His lips part slightly as the suggestion. 

“Are you…sure, Lieutenant?”

“It is good for a man to enjoy moments of privacy. Your Majesty is coming of age, too.”

Without warning, Hwei stands up and turns to hug Zhao. The man is startled, but relaxes soon after. He does not return the hug, though, being too formal and too correct to show such affection with royalty. He settles for a mere, polite caressing of the hair, which has gotten so long it reaches below Hwei’s behind. 

The prince is allowed to hug him to his heart's content. “May I bring my paper and brush?” He asks shyly, face hidden against Zhao’s broad chest.

“I will make sure a bag is prepared, Your Majesty, with your favorite ink.”

Jhin is not there on his first visit. 

That much is to be expected and, honestly, Hwei kind of needs this. He needs to move past the memory, and enjoy his own company. Heavens know he enjoys solitude more than company, so this time alone, with only his paper, ink and brush is almost sacred. He reaches the curving of the river, finding it odd that it’s pretty much the same as the last time, and sits with his feet in the water.

His long robe and the bottom of his pants dip into the river, too, but he does not mind this. His sleeves get stains of dirt, and his hair pools in the ground at his lower back. Hwei does not mind either of these things. It’s so quiet, and so peaceful.

When he returns, about three hours later, his smile is shining and Zhao cannot hide a smile in return. 

“Was it a nice walk, Hwei?” In these moments of absolute privacy, the Lieutenant complies to Hwei’s wish of being addressed by his name. 

A giggle. “Yes,” he sings, happily hugging his bag of art supplies. 

“Did you see the boy this time?” Zhao jokes. It was certainly a joke, yet Hwei’s ears turn pink behind his long strands of black hair and his heart beats a little faster.

“I wonder if that dream will disappear now,” Hwei mumbles.

“Perhaps,” Zhao shrugs. “It is likely for it to be replaced with new visions.”

Hwei knows that was bound to happen, but he does not want to forget his first and, frankly, only friend. Jhin’s face begins to blur in his memories, and Hwei is unsure he would even recognize the boy if they met now… But perhaps that was for the best, as they were not supposed to meet at all.

“I wonder if this is the best idea...” 

It is now his fourth visit to the river, and Hwei has taken the habit of talking to himself. He is walking in circles, trying to think of the perfect painting to gift Zhao for his birthday. It is still a month away, but the best time to paint without risking the Lieutenant finding out is this one, by the river.

“I mean, he does love weapons, but I have never painted a weapon before!” He walks up to the river, and kneels down. On the still surface, his reflection stares back. “I am sure my best efforts will still be met with kindness and gratitude, but I… I still wish to give him something he genuinely loves…”

“Not because you made it?”

“Exactly, not because I made it…” 

In the water, another boy sits by his side. 

His black hair is up in a ponytail with a red hairband. His sharp features are now warm with laughter, in which Hwei is unable to see anything other than confidence. He was a bit taller than Hwei, and wore a short, humble brown robe. It was a bit big for him, so his neck was visible. 

Hwei’s heart jumps and beats faster as he leans in closer to the water.

“You…” His hair can be longer, and he can be taller, but his eyes stay the same. He gets even closer to the reflection. “In the end…you were a River Spirit…”

“A River Spi…?” Jhin holds back a laugh. “Is that what you think?”

“A ghost?” Hwei covers his mouth in shock. “An… An undead?! Have you come to haunt me?” 

“You’re still so weird,” Jhin scoffs. 

Only then Hwei feels a presence by his side. He turns to find the young man in the reflection now made flesh and bone. His tanned skin makes him think of the orange hues of dawn. 

“Jh–” 

Hwei is cut short by a piece of ground giving in below his hand, making him lose balance. Before he falls into the water, however, Jhin grabs his arm and pulls. Either Jhin is stronger than he looks for a seventeen-year-old, or Hwei is lighter than he looks for a seventeen-year-old, because the prince hits the other’s chest with a heavy thud. 

They stay still for a moment. There is too much to process. 

But whatever the situation, there was one thing Hwei knew he had to tell Jhin if they were to meet again. “I am sorry,” Hwei whispers. “I am really sorry about what my…guard said last time. He should not have said ‘peasant’ in such a cruel manner…”

There is a heavy silence, followed by a strange laugh. As if Jhin himself is surprised to be laughing.

“Have you had that on your mind for the last five years? Apologizing to me for something your guard said?” Hwei does not want to lift his face off of Jhin’s chest. If anything, he hides more. He had considered every possible response, but being here now and hearing Jhin’s amused tone fills him with embarrassment, and renders him unable to think clearly.

“I…”

“You…are the prince, right?” Jhin asks suddenly. “The price.”

“Ah… Yes, I am.”

Hwei is pushed away, not towards the river this time, so they can see each other face to face. In this corner of the river, time seems to stay frozen. Jhin’s hazelnut eyes, which in Hwei’s memories were black, glisten with the spring sunlight reflected on the river. His expression, however, is still unreadable to the prince.

“Then it’s normal,” Jhin shrugs. “It’s normal for you guys to think of common people as peasants, I mean, we are.” 

“No!” Hwei inches closer, terrified. “I would never think that! Your life is as worthy as mine.”

“What if I was a thief?” Jhin raises an eyebrow. “Or a killer?”

An odd emotion spreads through Hwei’s chest. His body is tense, but he does not want it to be. His hands cover his heart, but he does not know why. 

“There are too many circumstances that affect every situation…” He decides to say, fighting the sour taste on his tongue. “I am not to judge your actions without knowing your context.”

Jhin is silent, casually resting one arm on his knee. He nods slowly, and looks at the river.

“You should leave.” 

Well, thinks Hwei, it is an improvement from just “leave”.

“Why?”

“I am not a good person,” is all Jhin says. “You’re a prince, we were never supposed to meet, much less talk. Besides, I am only here to bury something and then I’ll disappear.”

Hwei giggles, making Jhin turn to him in pure confusion.

“...I have thought the same,” he whispers, barely audible. “That we were never supposed to meet, that it was a rather odd coincidence… And that I wished to see you again, because I had so many questions for my…” Hwei turns beet red all of a sudden, apparently piquing Jhin’s interest. “My, um… My first friend.”

He expects Jhin to laugh, but he doesn’t. Instead, the boy sits next to him. Their shoulders touch and the closeness is warm.

“Ask me, then,” he simply says. “I can stay for a while.”

After some difficulty, the first question leaves Hwei’s lips. Then the next, then the next. Funnily enough, he doesn’t ask anything too personal. He leaves out the beast in Jhin’s house, or the scars from the past. He only asks about Jhin’s daily life, his favorite foods, and his hobbies. Trivial and mundane things. 

Yet Jhin doesn't answer every question. He refuses to reply sometimes, no matter how innocent the question. He is not scared, Hwei notes, he is cautious. From time to time he is cold, as if not wanting to be known at all. It took nearly a whole season for Hwei to figure outhis favorite meals. 

When summer came around, they had developed a strong bond. Hwei doesn’t know everything about Jhin; in fact, he knows close to nothing, and this seems to allow Jhin to relax. He knows Jhin better than anyone while not knowing him at all, he thinks one day, watching the boy talk about his interests. He would never admit it to Jhin, but he feels special.

Turns out Jhin is a genius when it comes to all kinds of arts. At the moment, he is very interested in calligraphy. 

So the next time they meet, Hwei brings extra paper and ink. He gives them to Jhin and they create together, laughter playing on their lips. While sitting in front of each other, their faces are close and their cheeks are flushed from heat. Time is unimportant while they fill every paper.

“It is so beautiful, Jhin…” He leans in to watch properly, hair falling over his shoulder in tender waves. In the other’s paper lies the character for “dragon”, then, below it, the character for “water”. Hwei’s piece is a drawing of the river.

“And they’d be even more beautiful if we still had the morning light,” he jokes in return, making Hwei giggle. 

“I am sure… Wait, what?” Hwei looks around to find the sun beginning to set. “Oh no, is it so late already? I must return, Zhao is going to be so mad! I…” He looks back at Jhin, and their gazes meet. Hwei doesn’t mind their closeness, oblivious as to why. Right now, in his juvenile mind, it just feels nice, and that is reason enough. “But I am having so much fun with you…”

After a small pause, Jhin nods. “I am too,” he admits. The pink blush of his ears is lost behind the loose bangs of straight black hair that rebel from his ponytail. 

“Are you coming back?” Hwei asks, like he does at the end of every meetup.

“I may come back.” Jhin replies, as he does every time Hwei asks.

Hwei’s face lights up like the sun itself. He smiles and nods before taking Jhin’s hands into his own.

“I will wait for you, even if you cannot visit, I will be here.”

Instead of replying, Jhin reaches out with his hand. Hesitant, he caresses Hwei’s long hair before grabbing a piece. Slowly, he brings it to his nose and, with his eyes closed, inhales deeply. Hwei feels himself becoming self conscious. It was washed properly last time, was it not? And every morning he applies white plum blossom aromatics after getting ready. The prince loves the smell and, judging from Jhin’s soft expression while opening his eyes, it is enjoyable for him as well. 

The chilly late afternoon breeze goes unnoticed, as there is nothing but warmth filling his chest.
 
“No promises.”

Hwei has no idea what to reply, mostly because he has an irrational desire to jump into the river and disappear. Not knowing where it comes from irritates him. But he’s also brimming with joy and happiness from a wonderful time with a friend. So many emotions, so little time to digest them. He packs up his art supplies bag and gets up.

“I… Have a safe trip!” Is all he manages to get out before turning around and walking back. He has no space left in his mind for Lieutenant’s Zhao’s scolding, or the warnings of the Royal Physician about avoiding the cold. 

He simply wants to get to his room quickly and paint a particular picture.

Happiness is a very effective drug. Hwei, Zhao notes, is very susceptible to its effects.

With each passing week the young prince looks more cheerful and livelier. He smiles at nothing, paints like there’s no tomorrow, and has developed a liking for calligraphy. Papers upon papers of scribbles lay in disarray over the prince’s desk while he decides on a robe for the day. It seems he cannot decide between green and blue.

“Lately you have been excelling at your studies, Your Majesty,” Zhao comments. It is difficult to not feel suspicion that something else is going on. The prince is older, after all, and, although innocent, human; sooner or later, the matters of the heart are natural to every person. “Is there any particular reason for your high spirits?”

It takes Hwei a moment to reply from behind the folding screen. 

“Life is a gift,” Hwei says. “I have prayed plenty, Xinxin, and whilst speaking to the Immortals I have realized…I wish to enjoy every moment.”

Lieutenant Xin Zhao had no heart to ask further. This does not mean, though, that he is less restless. 

When they arrive at the river, he stands in his usual spot, with his arms crossed and his back straight. It’s the same routine every visit. He waits patiently for Hwei to walk down the river, art supplies bag in hand. His ankle-length green robe and loose white pants create an eerie figure that almost seems to float, while his long black hair down to his hips grounds him in reality. Zhao is afraid.

The world is too cruel, and Hwei has always been too kind. He knows Hwei is a man, he knows there must come a day where he learns about the darkness that permeates the world, but his filial love has grown large and he fears the day the little boy he saw speak his first sentences is lost to maturity.

So, guided by his heart for the first time in decades, Zhao follows the path Hwei took. He goes through the forest, not the river, so he can stay hidden and watch from above. He walks until the river turns and peeks by the edge of the mountain. He finds the young prince sitting by the river, drawing.

Alone.

Zhao feels foolish, and embarrassed. He mutters a quick prayer to the Immortals and asks for forgiveness. He is about to leave Hwei to his privacy, when a squeal grabs his attention.

It does not sound like pain or terror, quite the opposite. Hwei’s face shows the brightest smile the Lieutenant has ever seen. The prince leaves his things aside in a rush to get up and runs to the other person, who Zhao can only assume is a man. When they meet, the mysterious individual holds Hwei by the hips and lifts him up, making him laugh.

“Must you do this? I am beyond embarrassed each time…” How long has this…? How many times?

“I enjoy your laughter,” the other says. His face is hidden by the trees, so Zhao cannot distinguish him. When they walk back into his field of vision, their faces are already turned to the river. 

“You came…” Hwei says as they sit together. “I thought you would not visit today.”

“I cannot stay long,” comes the sharp reply. Their words become harder to hear. “An hour, at most. I have work to do today.”

“Ah… Autumn is starting, after all.” 

Their talk, from what Xin Zhao can gather, becomes trivial, and while they sit extremely close to one another nothing else happens. Zhao thinks carefully about what to do next. Should he go and interrupt? Should he do something? He recalls the prince’s bright smile and eyes filled with light. He remembers the passion with which he studies and paints. The fervor with which he prays.

He takes a deep, long breath and goes back to his post at the river’s entrance. There is conflict in his heart, but the sound of the prince’s gleeful laughter is stronger in his ears. 

By the time he comes to terms with his choice, Hwei is standing in front of him. 

“Xinxin?”

“Your Majesty,” he replies immediately out of habit. His expression softens and he realizes he has been frowning.

“Is…something the matter?”

Zhao smiles. Half forced, half natural. There is still doubt in him, but he sore on his life, on his soul, that he would protect the prince. 

“Nothing, I am just a bit tired. Did you have fun, Hwei?”

As royalty, Hwei always carries an expensive cotton handkerchief with a green embroidered plum blossom. He never expected, though, to be using it to clean blood.

“Please… Stay still,” he says, softly.

Jhin sits by the edge of the river. His thigh-length robe lays by his side, stained crimson on the shoulder. Hwei is kneeled behind him, carefully cleaning the dry blood around the wound. It’s a slash, it had to be done by a knife or a sword. Hwei frowns his lips as he bends to wet the handkerchief once more. 

“Easy for you to say,” Jhin barks, inhaling sharply. “Shit…” Hwei hums, not knowing what to respond. There is a long silence before Jhin speaks again. “You’re curious, aren’t you?” 

“...Huh?” Hwei’s movements slow down as he processes Jhin’s words. “About what?”

“About me,” he says, coldly. “About my life, my scars.” Hwei’s gaze travels alongside Jhin’s back. It is covered in deep scars, some old and some new. On his shoulder, the new wound he’s cleaning bares its bloody fangs. “About…everything.”

“I… I am… I will not lie to you, I am curious…” He takes a deep breath and wipes close to the swollen skin. Jhin can’t help a wince. “But it is not my place to ask…or to know.”

“Whose place is it, then?”

The question makes Hwei reconsider. “Well… Maybe a sibling, or a lover.” 

“I don’t need anything like that,” Jhin immediately says.

For some reason, his words are heavy on Hwei’s chest. Maybe because he doesn’t want Jhin to be alone, but he is unsure of himself. With Jhin, Hwei is not very sure of anything, and all sensations are new.

“I see…”

He finishes cleaning the wound to the best of his ability and traces his fingers over the relief of Jhin’s old scars. Jhin tenses under his touch, but relaxes shortly after. 

“You probably have to think about that a lot, hm?” Jhin suddenly says. “You’re a prince, isn’t there pressure to get a lover? A wife?”

It is now Hwei’s turn to tense up. “Father is still very young and healthy. Even if I am an only son, there is still plenty of time to think about that. Besides, I am only seventeen.”

“You’re already seventeen,” Jhin laughs. “Next thing you know, you’re twenty, then thirty.”

Hwei rolls his eyes. “Why so eager to grow? Are we not happy this way?”

“There are things you can only do when you’re of age,” Jhin shrugs, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Besides, I can’t wait to be respected.” All of a sudden he stands up, legs in the river. The water reaches his navel. 

“Hm… That is a good point,” Hwei says, squeezing the water out of his handkerchief. “I can’t wait to see your art displayed in the most luxurious halls.” 

“Exactly,” Jhin’s eyes glisten with excitement. “My paintings will be loved all around the world, and my music will be played everywhere, even in the Heavenly Palace.”

Mirroring his joy, Hwei inches closer to the river. “And your plays will be acted out in the grandest of stages!” 

“Ah, you flatter me so, my prince,” Jhin sings, mimicking a fancy accent. 

“Are you mocking me?” Hwei laughs, leaning even closer. Jhin gets close as well, defiant.

“Your Highness, I would never,” he covers his heart with his hands, acting hurt. 

Unable to contain his laughter, Hwei tries to cover his mouth with one hand. “Please, stop, I do not speak this way.”

“I do not speak this way, either.”

“Jhin–”

The ground gives in, and Hwei loses balance. Before he reaches the water, Jhin is able to catch his body. The prince opens his mouth to thank him when he notices the way Jhin’s lips twist into an evil grin. With a big splash, Hwei falls into the river. He struggles to get up, his three wet layers of Autumn robes and soaking hair holding him down. 

“Jhin!” His wavy locks cover his face, so he can only flail his arms around like a headless chicken flaps its wings. “Jhin, you– that was so mean! So cruel!” He walks until he hits the edge of the river and turns around, back stuck to the soil. “Where are you?” 

As he starts to get his hair off of his face, another pair of hands aid him. Jhin’s fingers softly move the wet bangs to the sides. Little by little, Jhin’s usual unreadable expression is revealed. He is close, not only his face but his body as well. He seems warmer somehow, or at least that’s what Hwei can gather. He wishes he understood Jhin completely, he wishes he knew him better.

“I’m here,” Jhin whispers while tucking a hairpiece behind the prince’s left ear. His gaze travels from Hwei’s ear, down to his neck, then passes through his lips to rest on his eyes. Everywhere he details, Hwei feels burning. Jhin takes a step, his chest pressing against the other’s. “Are you okay?”

It should be freezing, Hwei thinks, but it’s the opposite. His body burns with an unknown warmth. Unknown, yet…natural. Hwei’s hands rest over Jhin’s naked chest, and his fingers twitch upon touching his skin. He can’t stop thinking about Jhin’s right hand on his shoulder, and his left on his ear.

“Yes…” Hwei nods, smiling shyly. “Yes, I’m okay…” 

Their eyes, like magnets, don’t want to pull away. Except is not only their eyes, their bodies, too, wish to stay close. 

What comes next? 

Hwei has been taught about things related to physical contact, but none of his lessons depict two men. He wonders if Jhin knows about those things, or if he has experience. Then again, experience with what? Hwei forces himself to block any wild thought. Nothing comes next.

“I, hm,” Jhin seems to be struggling to speak. “I’m sorry, Hwei.” 

His awkwardness eases Hwei’s heart and makes him giggle. “It was long overdue, me falling into the river,” he mumbles. “I am never careful, am I? I keep falling into your arms…” Something aches inside him. “I should apologize.”

“I don’t mind you falling in my arms,” Jhin says, then immediately shuts his mouth. It is the first time Hwei sees his stutter. “You fit in them…nicely.”

As if proving his point, Jhin envelopes Hwei’s waist with his arms. Again, it feels natural. Hwei’s heart, he realizes, feels like it could burst any moment. He is surrounded by water, and his throat is dry. 

“I think so too,” he whispers. 

Jhin is about to move away when Hwei acts on impulse. He hugs Jhin’s neck and stands on the tip of his toes to kiss his lips. There is no reason, at least none he can grasp. He wants to kiss this boy, he wants to stay in his arms forever. His heartbeat echoes like drums in his ears and Jhin’s lips are extremely, unexpectedly, soft. Softer than his cotton or silk robes, maybe even softer than clouds. Jhin’s hug tightens, bringing him closer, and he returns the kiss. They press their lips together for a moment that Hwei registers as both fickle and eternal before parting. 

Neither speaks a word, neither moves. Instead, Jhin claims his lips this time. Hwei melts in his embrace as he returns it. Two kisses turn into four, four into six, and six into eight. Who knew pressing your lips against someone else repeatedly could be so wonderful? 

When they part, out of breath, Hwei lets out a giggle. 

“I… Forgive me, I…”

Jhin silences him with a peck. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. Hwei’s heart jumps and the back of his eyes burn.

“You are…” He’s interrupted by a coughing fit. He covers his mouth with his forearm, embarrassed. In between coughs he tries to apologize, until it finally calms down. “I– Oh, Heavens, I’m so sorry…”

Jhin simply smiles, holding back a laugh. He kneels enough to hug Hwei’s thighs and push him up to the edge. Then, he climbs out as well, sitting beside the prince. 

“Will you be scolded for returning like that?”

“Probably…” Hwei is unable to stop smiling. He inches closer and rests his head on Jhin’s shoulder, staring at the delicate glimmers of sun rays above the river. Zhao will be very angry, and now that the emotion of kissing has passed slightly Hwei’s body is freezing cold. Yet none of that matters, not right now. “Jhin.” He calls out, audible enough for only Jhin to listen.

“...Yes?”

He grabs Jhin’s closest hand and places his handkerchief in his palm. “I…am curious. I would love to know you properly, to know what you have had to overcome…” He looks up to smile at him. “But I do not need it. I do not need to know that to…care for you. Just…” He trails off, eyes falling over the embroidered cotton square again. “Just promise me…promise me you will take care of yourself.” He closes Jhin’s fingers into a fist, with the handkerchief inside it. “So that even if we are to part, for days, weeks, or years…there is a chance we reunite.”
  
Silence falls. It’s neither heavy nor light, simply comfortable. 

Jhin tightens his fist, then nods. “I will. I have to be the greatest artist the world has ever seen…” He turns to Hwei, who is too shy to look up. “I will come next week, and I will bring something for you in return. As thanks for this.”

Hwei laughs, hugging his arm. He is still too nervous to look into his eyes, yet Jhin’s gaze feels warm over his forehead. 

“I will definitely come,” Hwei whispers. “I promise.”

Hwei walks over the snow. His chest burns with every step.

It is completely his fault that he is in so much pain, because he should’ve been more careful. But that matters too little now, and there is not an ounce of regret. He has had a month to think and re-think, to ponder his choices and his emotions. One tends to do so when locked up in their room. The day he promised Jhin he would visit, he started coughing and the first snowflake fell. The Emperor immediately ordered his lockdown.

So after realizing Zhao would not bend, and that he would have to wait until spring to visit the river again, his heart hurt more than any sickness. For the following weeks he ignored the Physician’s insights, not out of disrespect but because it was being blown out of proportion. 

He feels perfectly fine, just some coughs.

With this in mind, he decides he can afford an hour or two outside. He will make it to the river, and, if Jhin is there, explain what happened. Whether Jhin is or isn’t at the river today does not matter, he can make it back. All he needs is to make it to their meeting place. Two hours tops, an hour and a half if Jhin is not there.

Besides, if they are together once more, coldness would not be an issue.

It is a risk, but doesn’t Jhin risk his life every time they meet? If a guard was to find them, or if halfway there Jhin wasn't able to fool security, he could have been injured, or worse. Jhin deserves at least this much.

Snowflakes dance all around, not too light but not too heavy, and the ground is covered in white. Hwei needs to be quick, because his winter robes can only keep him warm for so long, and his tracks are easily visible. It’s not too bad, he thinks. The winter scenery is painted in tones he had only seen from the window, from inside; always a picture he couldn’t be a part of. But now he is standing among the snow, and its beauty fills him with morale. So what if he coughs a little sometimes? It is just like sneezing. He can afford a coughing fit, no matter how painful, if it means seeing him again.

He goes over his words in his mind. He has very little time, so it must be quick. “Jhin,” he mumbles, puffs of breath tickling his lips. “I must be quick, I am a bit sick, and I cannot come anymore,” he hesitates, “I should have told you before– no, too long…” 

Far away, a bell chimes once, and with its sound the iciness all around creeps inside Hwei’s bones. 

His heart quickens so suddenly it's painful, and his skin feels as if made of paper. He knows he has no time left to walk. He needs to run. He is so close already. The pain breeds more coughing, which he covers tightly with both hands to avoid making a sound.

Why did they find out so soon? He still had some time left… No matter, all Hwei needs to do is run. 

Running in the snow is hard, however, as he has never done it before. He struggles to see straight, too, because the coughing got worse. He continues to run, covering his mouth. When he is just barely there at the slope, at the entrance to the river, he trips. The cold of the snowy ground stabs his palms like daggers, and his consciousness wavers.

Still, after a terrible coughing fit he catches his breath and gets up. He has no time to fix his clothes, or his hair, he can only run. He goes down the slope and runs along the river.

“Jhin!” He shouts. 

Somehow, he knows he is there. And he is. 

The boy sits by the river without dipping his feet. Hwei’s entire body screams with joy and he runs even faster. 

“Jhin! I made it, I’m here!” He calls out. Jhin doesn’t move, staring intensely at the river. Finally, Hwei reaches him, and kneels beside him. “Hey… I made it, I– I am so sorry I could not visit before but, ah, yes! What I planned to say!” Jhin remains still. His expression is sour, colder than the snow on his shoulders. “Are you…mad, perhaps?”

There is no response. Hwei’s chest is heavy, and the back of his eyes burn. He inches closer, just a bit, trying to get a proper glimpse at his face. This time, he is careful not to get too close to the edge.

“Hey, Jhin…?” 

After a few seconds of silence, he reaches out with his hand. He means to rest it on Jhin’s shoulder, but it phases through. Horror slowly pierces his nape. 

Is he dreaming? 

Hwei tries again. And again. His hand goes through Jhin’s body, and not only the left but the right one, too. Only then he realizes his palms are crimson. Huh? Did I do something…? He looks down to find the fabric on his chest stained red, as well as the bottom of his sleeves. What is…happening? 

“Jhin, please… Stop joking, I… I am scared, please…”

“I guess he’s not coming,” Jhin mumbles to himself while he stands up. Hwei stands up with him. “Should’ve known.” He walks back to his treasure, then back at the river. Hwei tries to place himself in front of him but Jhin goes through his body as if walking through mist.

“What? No! I’m here!” The prince keeps trying to say. “I made it, look! I made it!”

“I’m so stupid,” Jhin huffs. “I shouldn’t have kissed him…”

Hwei’s heart breaks. He gives up trying to be seen, and wishes only to be heard. “Do not say that, please, I… I loved it… It was the first time I… The first time I ever…” His cries turn into sobbing. Jhin turns to leave. “Don’t go, please, I… I have so much to tell you, there’s no time left, I… I have to return or… Zhao will…”

Hwei falls to his knees, watching Jhin’s back get smaller and smaller as he follows the river.

Why does everything seem to slow down? The snowflakes, now that Hwei can stop to see, fall so very slowly. Yet it was so rapid only a couple of minutes ago.

He extends his hand to catch some, but they pass through his skin and hit the ground. One of them, however, stays in his bloody palm. “What happened to me…?” He asks aloud.

“You know, do you not?” A womanly voice replies. It sounds wise, and echoes in his ears. He does not fear this presence. It feels warm. “You understand.”

He thinks carefully and nods. He gets up, then walks back home. There are no footprints in the snow. When he reaches the slope, there is a woman by his side. 

She wears a light, mint green robe that covers her feet and sleeves that reach the floor. Her hair is combed and held in a humble updo with only one ornament, a flower hairpin. Even without knowing her, she feels familiar. She grabs his hand before they walk up the slope.

“I… I am sorry.”

“Do not lament the inevitable, child.”

After walking a few minutes, they reach Hwei’s body. It lays still, face down. Seeing it there is strangely comforting.

“I really…felt fine…” There is no response. “Xinxin will be punished because of me…”

“It will be okay, child,” the woman says. She smiles at him. “It will all be okay.”

“Will Jhin be okay?”

She smiles wider, as if pleased. “You see your own dead body and your first concerns are about others. So much potential, and such a peculiar soul…” She walks past the body now half buried in the snow, gently guiding Hwei along. “Let us go, child.”

The situation is bizarre, but next to her Hwei is at ease. She said it would be okay, and he believes her. He can ask about Jhin again later.

“May I ask… Who are you? And, um, where are we going?”

She remains silent for a long time. They keep walking until they reach the outskirts of town. It is a long walk, yet it feels short. Behind them, the quiet and calm of winter coats reality, but they are only observers. 

“You may call me Karma,” she says. With a wave, a fan materializes in her hand. She tosses it in front of them and it floats, then grows like roots until it becomes ten or fifteen times its size. She lets go of Hwei to sit on it. Shyly, he does the same. “And I will take you to the Heavenly Palace.” 

One unexpectedly cold summer afternoon, one soul would take advantage of destiny.

He has planned his path carefully, with little room for error. His time among the living had been wonderful, as his art grew beyond the imaginable. His retribution, well… The punishment prepared for him had also been beyond the imaginable. But centuries have passed, and his dealings in the Underworld have been fortunate. In many ways, the Underworld is similar to the realm of the living, one simply needs to be smart and cunning.

Which he is.

He slips on his black pants and burgundy robes, then calls in a couple of lesser demon helpers to tie his long hair in a ponytail. Being a successful Ghost Demon has its perks. A high ponytail is his preferred hairstyle no matter how much his hair grows. It reminds him of his time as a human.

Jewelry in the Underworld is easy to come by, he has come to find. Some are buried with too much, some are buried with too little. Again, all it takes is to be smart. Favor the correct people, make oneself a useful asset. Demon Kings and Barons are more stupid than you’d think.

Demon Duchesses, however…

“Are you done?” A white-haired woman asks from her throne. It is carried around by four shadows without faces and barely discernible, muscled bodies. Her eye sockets are filled with demonic power that shines a deep purple, and her robes hang to the side of the platform her throne sits in. With one long, pointy nail she picks a slice of juicy peach from a platter that floats by her side and brings it to her lips.

“Ah, Master Syndra,” Jhin smiles. He finishes putting on his necklaces and rings, then saves something else inside his robe, over his pec. “Just in time, as always.”

“You have avoided reincarnation for four hundred years, Jhin, to elevate your art through Demonic practices” she says, smirking. “And have prepared this…‘performance’ for the last decade… All of it just to send a message to the Heavenly Palace,” she bits back a laugh, “must be hard, wanting someone up there in where we can’t reach. Your determination continues to amuse me… ”

“I am an artist, High Duchess,” he shrugs, “I have no other goals than to be appreciated as such. Across realms, no less.”

She scoffs before biting another slice of peach. She watches Jhin for a while before swallowing and waving her hand. “Whatever you say,” she allows herself to laugh this time. “As long as I get the scrolls I was promised.” 

“I would not dare fail you.”

Time goes by too quickly. His performance must be perfect, everything shall fall into place. After a quick ride on one of Master Syndra’s spiritual swords, he is once again in the realm of the living. He calls upon the sword to store its energy on one of his rings and begins to walk. The path is familiar, the summer breeze feels distant.

He follows the river. At its entrance, on a slope that connects to the forest, there is a staircase. 

At the top of the staircase, following a small cobble path, there is a shrine. Four pillars form a square with an intricate, tall ceiling. It is quite spacious. In its center, on a pedestal, sits a statue.

After stepping inside, a known face smiles down at him. The eyes of the large stone sculpture are closed, but he can still recall their green hue. He particularly enjoys the work done on the deity’s long hair; it managed to capture its movement well, and remains simple with no accessories. The robes, however, are wrong. The statue’s clothes are long and rather eccentric, with sleeves reaching the heels and three layers too much. Jhin rolls his eyes. Humans will always enhance their gods one way or the other.

A young woman kneels inside the shrine. Her body covers the words inscribed in the stone sign at the feet of the sculpture, but Jhin doesn’t need to see it. He knows exactly what it says.

May our deity’s brush paint your hopes into reality.

He waits for the lady to finish her prayers and walk away before he gets to work. From his sleeves he takes out a small bag of seeds, and at the bottom of each pillar he plants one. He sits on the floor, in front of the statue, and transforms one of his rings into a book. Quite the handy trick, he thinks humorously, before he begins to chant.

Slowly, the seeds sprout. Tall, thick, deep brown roots that grip the pillars and break the flooring. From them, flowers bloom. They are unnatural, enlarged and bizarre, like a mix between a lotus and a plum blossom. Oddly alluring, in fact. The contrast between the corrupted flora and the heavenly shrine is exciting. Jhin wants to pat himself in the back.

As the flowers continue to bloom, demonic energy penetrates the ground. If left alone, it will affect the forest and the river, poisoning the water. Jhin returns the book into his ring form and stands, facing the statue. 

“Well,” he sings, looking around. “If you fail to come this time, too, I have still made a most fascinating performance.”

The day goes by casually. Some more townsfolk visit. They marvel at the sight of the unusual decorations now at the pillars, stroking Jhin’s ego. He can feel the demonic energy making its way to the trees all around. 

“Just how much corruption will you allow, hm?”

The sun is about to set when the last ray of sunlight hits the statue. A soft light envelops it while colors cover the stone. The light dissipates and instead of stone a man stands on the pedestal, a meter above the ground. It is a lowly appearance for a God, Jhin thinks. No flashy sparks, no gaudy clothing, only three lamps that decorate the ceiling and light up the shrine. 

His eyes are still closed, and different from his sculpture his clothing is simple: a long white inner robe and over it a humble green tunic with a design of ink strokes at the bottom. The robes cover his feet with their length, and his celestial raiment, a long sheer white shawl, floats around him with heavenly power like a cloud. His hair, which has grown to reach his knees, is tied in a low ponytail while his wavy bangs frame his face. In his left hand, he holds an ink brush.

Jhin refuses to acknowledge his breath is caught in his throat. 

Hwei takes his first breath, and slowly opens his eyes. He is visibly confused, looking around at the flowers. He stares at them for a long moment before turning to Jhin. His expression goes from confusion, to surprise, to laughter, to sadness. In the end, Hwei decides to keep his face emotionless. Jhin almost wants to laugh. 

“Lord Hwei,” he says. He meant to sound confident, if anything a little arrogant, yet his voice comes out strangely mellow. 

“...Khada Jhin,” Hwei whispers. His features begin to change, the corners of his lips curving slightly. 

That is all Jhin needs to extend his arms out. And, in turn, that appears to be all Hwei needs to laugh. His laughter awakes a memory in Jhin that he thought was long forgotten. It makes his heart ache and, for a second, it is distracting. 

But Hwei steps down, and the moment his hips fall perfectly into his hands everything else fades away. Jhin spins the deity around to earn another laugh. Hwei’s slender body, now with the proper physique of a grown man, is warm like the summer. Jhin, too, is taller and stronger now, although his hands are ice cold. They both changed.

“Still so embarrassing…” Hwei mumbles after Jhin stops, smiling so much his eyes squint. “There seems to be a problem with my shrine that could affect my town… Do you know anything about it, Master Khada?”

“It is certainly a stellar display of craftsmanship.” He says, proudly. 

Hwei rolls his eyes, yet can’t help but part his lips as he stares at the flowers. “You have always been blessed, for better or worse, with a genius for artistry.” Jhin chuckles as Hwei turns his attention to him once more. Their gazes meet.

“...I’m here,” Jhin whispers. He holds Hwei with one hand to take something out of his robe. From his chest he gets the handkerchief with the green plum blossom embroidery. Hwei gasps. He makes his brush disappear before gently taking the piece of fabric into his hands. 

“You kept it…”

“It was the only thing I took to my grave.” 

With a tender smile, the god caressed his face. Jhin’s straight bangs are tucked behind one ear, and agile fingers detail his cheekbones, then his jawline. Among the corruption, Hwei’s gestures shine brighter. He truly completes the piece, making Jhin feel at ease. Suddenly, Hwei turns again to the flowers. His eyes hide a spec of sadness.

“It’s such a shame I have to clean the demonic energy, when your creations are so beautiful…”

“...I have more flowers,” Jhin says. “Clean them, and I will bring more. I will make sure your shrine is always perfect.”

Hwei’s muscles tense, or rather, tremble. His face does not show fear in the slightest. It shows the opposite, in fact. Silent excitement, and eagerness. 

“So you are…” The god stutters. “Jhin… Are you coming back?” Tiny tears form in his eyes, shining gold. Jhin had only heard about the golden tears of the gods, and now he caused them. He holds back a laugh, but can’t help a prideful smirk.

Even before Jhin responds, their faces inch closer, both at the same time, until they can sense the other’s hot breath over their skin. Hwei’s eyelids flutter shut before a final push brings their lips together. The three Heavenly lanterns shine brighter, and the corrupted demonic flowers bloom larger, roots growing thicker. Opposite forces collide as do their bodies, with Jhin bringing the deity closer by the hips and Hwei wrapping his arms around the ghost demon’s neck. 

“I will come back.” Whispers Jhin against Hwei’s lips.