Because out of all the other first years, I could follow you, Han hadn’t said to Quy when Quy had asked why.

After Quy left to go incognito-healing, Han had gotten Raah to help him some more training. Yang’s offer sat at the back of his mind, but somehow, he didn’t want to intrude on Quy’s work down at the lower districts. And he didn’t want to anger his mother.

Deep inside, he was half afraid that it’ll be too awkward. Could they really pretend to not know each other down there? And what if Han slipped, and said “Quy” instead of “Khai”?

The week passed quickly. Between Han, Raah and Jin keeping an eye out for the other factions, and the occasional scuffle, it seemed like the other groups had mostly calmed down.

And Han once again found himself in the same predicament: mother and sister gone, and no food in the house. So Han ventured out to Thon’s tea shop, but there was no crowd.

“Eh, Han? Good evening, boy!”

Han nodded to Thon’s grandfather. “Good evening, Mr. Kiri.” Han’s eyes slid around.

Thon’s grandfather chuckled. “Looking for young Khai, hey? He’s a sweet boy.”

Han spluttered. “Well, I—”

“Ach, he’s over at the Fountains. Said he should be studying, but the kids have him lighting water on fire.”

“What?”

The old man shrugged. “So I heard.”

“You haven’t seen it?”

“I’ve been sitting here, haven’t I?”

“Han!” Thon yelled out. “Take the old man and go!”

“Well, Mr. Kiri?” Han said apologetically. “I could move the earth beneath your chair.”

The man grumbled. “Help me stand,” he said instead. “Khai keeps pestering me about walking and all.”

“He is a healer,” Han said. He helped Mr. Kiri up, and they slowly walked to the Water Fountains.

Water on fire was clearly an exaggeration, Han realised when he saw it. It was more like light in water, and light was heat—heat Quy could control.

Quy’s book bag was set aside, forgotten, as kids jumped up and down in one of the larger fountains soaking wet.

“Oh dear,” Mr. Kiri said. “Their parents are going to kill me.”

Quy turned towards them. And suddenly, he smiled. “Mr. Kiri! Han!”

Han’s chest tightened.

Mr. Kiri nudged him. “Let me sit,” he grumbled.

Quy headed over. “Doesn’t that feel better?” he urged Mr. Kiri. “Movement creates heat. But Han or Yang would fashion a walking stick for you.”

“I’m not that old,” Mr. Kiri said blithely. He grinned at the kids. “Look at them! Such joy.”

“Mr. Kiri!” the kids shouted. “Come join us! It’s fun! Healer Khai made the water all nice and warm!”

Mr. Kiri chuckled. “I don’t think people want to see an old man dripping wet.” He prodded Han. “You two. Go off and talk about whatever young men these days talk about. I’ll mind the kids.”

“Yes. We should talk,” Quy said, his voice suddenly serious. He turned and moved to a relatively secluded area of the fountains, away from Mr. Kiri and the kids and other random passers-by. Han followed him.

“Did something happen at Baashi?” Han asked in a low voice.

Quy frowned. “No.” He glanced away. “I appreciate it that you’ve kept this quiet.”

“I bet Lord Quyen doesn’t know about it.”

Quy made a strangled sound. “No, he most definitely does not.”

“Why the name, though? ‘Khai’ is fine, but you could have chosen a better fake name,” Han said, aiming for light-heartedness.

The air suddenly heated up.

“It’s my name,” Quy gritted out. The air temperature quickly become normal again. “It’s fine. Forget it.”

And if the ground opened and swallowed Han up, everyone would know that it was on purpose. “I—I didn’t mean—”

Quy/Khai shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m glad you’ve been training with Raah,” he said abruptly. “It shows.”

“Er—thanks. But, Quy—or Khai. If Khai’s your name, then what about ‘Quy’?”

“It’s a long, private story,” Quy/Khai said, looking away. “Khai is my true name...but it’s probably best if you just call me Quy.”

“No.”

Khai, Han thought to himself. Khai-Khai-Khai.

Khai looked at him. “Pardon?”

“If Khai is your real name, then I’ll call you Khai,” Han said firmly. “Names have power. And I want to call you by the right name.”

Khai’s eyebrows drew up as the corners of his lips went down. “You have to call me Quy at Baashi.”

“I can do that. Trust me.”

Khai bit his bottom lip. “I do.”

“Khai! Han! Come over here!”

The two of them stood up smartly at Yang’s call. She was with a group of women, all carrying heavy baskets filled with...uncooked food.

“Help me build a cooking pit,” Yang ordered Han. “And Khai, we need a good, strong fire. Seeing as the kids are all having fun out here, we mothers have decided that it’s the perfect time for a great meal together.”

News spread, and by the time night fell, there were many families gathered by the Fountains. Khai had set multiple mage lights in the air above them, giving a bright ambience in conjunction with the various cooking flames, the smell of food in the air, and the sound of chatter and music and laughter.

Han found himself seated on risen-earth benches around a fire with Yang, her son, Thon, Mr. Kiri, and Khai. Mr. Kiri was recounting one of his old stories. But clearly Khai hadn’t heard it before, and he was listening with rapt attention. Han, who had heard the story over a dozen times, Han zoned out watching Khai’s face.

Thon jabbed Han in the side. “See something you like?” Thon whispered.

Han jolted. “What?”

Thon glanced at Khai pointedly. “He looks so young, hard to believe we’re all the same age. I wonder what his skin care routine is.”

“Mages tend to age slower,” Han reminded him. “And he’s a healer.”

Thon grinned. “What? You think he heals the wrinkles away? You need a lot of healing sessions then,” he said, smirking.

Han shoved him.

“Boys,” Mr. Kiri shook his head with a world-weary sigh. Han was suddenly aware of Khai looking at him and laughing, and he immediately reddened.

“It’s nice to see childhood friends,” Khai said, now smiling. His face turned regretful as he got to his feet. “But I think it’s time for me leave for the evening.”

Han’s stomach sank. “Yeah. I do as well.”

After the multiple round of goodbyes, Khai left, and Han hurried home.

There was light peeking from under the curtains in the front window. Gulping, Han entered the house. Both his mother and little sister Mian were in the front room. Mian’s homework was arrayed on the table in front of them.

“Back late again,” his mother said archly.

Han bowed deeply. “Good evening, Mother. Good evening, little sister.”

His mother gave him a look. “Where were you?”

“I was having dinner with Mage Yang.”

His mother grimaced. “That woman again? I better not see you in some sordid relationship with her.”

Han shook his head. “Yes, Mother.”

Mian snickered. “Don’t worry, he’s gay,” she whispered.

“Don’t say such things,” his mother snapped.

“Sorry, mum,” Mian said, returning to her books, but not before she smirked at Han.

Han bowed his head, suddenly afraid that they would see what he had been doing afternoon in his eyes. “I’ll go to my room. Good night, Mother, little sister.”

There was nothing between him and Khai/Quy, he thought to himself as he went up the stairs to his room. His little sister was just saying that to rile him up, like how she dangled her favourable relationships with their parents in front of Han.

He was suddenly very glad for Baashi, and the opportunity to get away from his family.

*

Khai was buoyed. With his days spent in company of Han and Raah and Jin, and his evening engagements with Yang and Han and the others, and all other times filled with study, he had no time to even think about his dysphoria.

However, a week or so later as he waited for the others to arrive at the front gates of Baashi, Khai became distinctly aware of someone watching him. Worse, he was aware of someone’s magic trying to probe him.

Khai slowly turned his head, and his eyes narrowed when his fire magic sizzled against the water magic. He traced it back to another Baashi student. Dark blue hair and a familiar figure, it was Song, son of Colonel Maru, the mage who apparently knew “Mai”.

One of the top ranking second years, Khai recalled Han’s words from weeks ago.

Quy hadn’t been pushing Khai to fight the second years. But with the unsettled fire in Khai’s core, he wanted to get that fight over and done with, rather than wait.

Khai stalked over towards Song. He was under a tree, and there was also a long-haired air mage playing a flute.

Song frowned, watching Khai approach him. The air mage stopped playing.

“Good morning, Song, son of Colonel Maru,” Khai said formally. “I…noticed your magic. Is there something you wish to ask of me?”

The air mage started laughing. “What’s this, Song? Interested in this little first year?”

Song’s gaze was fixed on Khai when he said, “That’s Quy, son of Lord Quyen. The current top ranking first year. Isn’t that right?”

Khai definitely noticed the emphasis on ‘Quy’. Very politely, Khai replied, “Yes, that is all true.”

“And this is Ginzan, disciple of Monk Gyonzin,” Song said.

Khai bowed—and flinched back when Ginzan approached him. He took a step back when Ginzan tried to get closer.

“Hmm, I can see how Song’s interested in you. You’re very pretty for a boy. Almost…a girl.” Ginzan glanced back at Song, who had stiffened. Ginzan’s eyes lit up. “Oh! I’m right! About what? Do you like him? Or is he actually a girl?”

“Shut up, Ginzan,” Song scowled.

Ginzan grinned. “Impossible. I’m an air mage.” He fixed his grey gaze back on Khai. “I like girls. Would you like to get out of here and have some fun? You would look pretty all dressed up.”

Khai stared at him, his stomach in knots. There was anger, there was dysphoria, there was fear, and there was the need to burn.

“Actually,” Khai finally grounded out. “I was here to request a duel with Song.”

“No,” Song said immediately. “I’m not fighting you.”

“Your face is too cute to be ruined,” Ginzan said.

Ignore him. Khai sidestepped Ginzan. “Why not?” he asked Song.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You don’t know me.”

Song sighed and shook his head. “I have no intention of fighting you. Why are you like this—” his eyes suddenly widened. “Behind!”

Khai ducked and kicked out a ring a flame, catching a water mage bent on ambush, fire turning water blades into steam. Moving his hands in a familiar pattern, Khai called a fire cage around the mage.

Then, calmly, Khai turned back to Song. Song’s fist was clenched. “I don’t like seeing you like this,” Song muttered.

Khai looked back silently.

Ginzan stepped forward. “We can duel. If you lose, you become my girlfriend.”

“No!” Song suddenly snapped. His lips thinned. “Very well, Quy. We will duel. And upon your defeat, you will withdraw from Baashi University.”

Fire and will burned in Khai’s magic core. “I accept.” In worse case, Khai could withdraw…and the real Quy could take his place.

Ginzan sighed, the wind moving gustily.

“After lectures, by the training grounds,” Song said.

Khai bowed. “I look forward to it.”

*

The University was abuzz with the upcoming duel. Khai’s fire was itching for it.

Han appeared even more tense and nervous than Khai.

“He’s good,” Han said, lips twisting. “Water, it throws your attacks back at you. He can go on fighting.”

“We’re fighting in daylight,” Khai said.

Han’s expression became all unreadable. “I don’t want you to leave Baashi.”

Something in Khai’s chest tightened. “I’ll still be around,” he said pointedly.

“Just don’t lose,” Raah interrupted.

Khai acknowledged him. “With your strength behind me, how can I?”

“But what if you get hurt? We can’t…you know, heal you,” Han said.

“I can heal myself,” Khai said. “I’ve been doing it for a long time.” He gave Han a firm look.

Han’s mouth remained downturned, but he nodded.

*

“Quy. A quick word before the duel,” Song said, hustling Khai the moment he got out of his final lecture.

Khai immediately tensed, following Song to a secluded place. “What is it?”

“Mai, I know it’s you,” Song hissed. “By the moon, Ginzan can tell that you’re a girl! Don’t you remember back at the orphanage? We used to play together. We were friends, and I promised to protect you. You used to call me older brother. Damn it, Mai, why are you doing this?”

Khai stared at him, glimpses of memory surfacing.

Shit, we really do know each other.

He didn’t want to lie. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth either. Carefully, he said, “My reasons for attending Baashi University are my own, Song, son of Colonel Maru. I am not who you think I am. Regardless of the past…we’re currently here. And we will duel.”

Song made a sound of frustration. “Fine. We’ll fight. But don’t forget that I never wanted to hurt you.”

Khai inclined his head. “Shall we?”

Stiffly, and in silence, the two of them made their way out onto the main training grounds. Han and Ginzan had both set the field up, and the crowd set back relatively safely. When they arrived, Han was crossing his arms and scowling, while Ginzan was grinning.

“Don’t mess with Quy’s face,” Ginzan said, thumping Song on the back.

“We’ll get a healer if necessary,” Han scowled.

Khai gave a little snort and smiled at Han. “It’ll be fine.”

He and Song went to separate sides of the field. Upon Ginzan’s call, they bowed, and the duel began.

Song immediately starting drawing water from the nearby fountains, turning them into glacial ice. But he didn’t attack.

Khai strode closer.

Suddenly, all the ice was hurtling towards him—but it stopped, just as Khai expected, a few handspans away. Deliberately, Khai encased his hand in fire and slammed it directly against the ice. Then he punched and kicked flame that flared through the gaps towards Song.

Song attacked back, and Khai blocked with lava and fire.

He’s only using ice, Khai suddenly realised. Ice required a lot more energy for Khai to heat up to boiling, ice that he couldn’t control in a melee situation, not nearly well enough against a water mage.

Song is a water mage. Khai sucked in a breath. He had been mostly fighting against earth mages: Taesu was in a region prone to earth affinity. But Song was a water mage, and he couldn’t control earth.

Chances of Song being able to manipulate lava as liquid? Possible….but I’m better.

Khai dropped down to one knee, avoiding an ice strike, and sunk his hands into the ground. Hot, rolling heat spread through the earth. The nearby water fountains began to steam, and with a growl, Khai lifted up chunks of rocky lava from the ground.

Song’s stance changed, a wave of ice forming behind him.

Khai pushed forward, hard rock and semi-liquid lava. They were solid against the ice in a way fire alone wasn’t. He took what hits came through. Injury can be healed later.

Song’s wave of ice came crashing down.

Khai raised his hands up and his wave of lava shot up from the ground. Lava became rock on contact with ice, but parts of it were still warm enough that Khai could keep on pushing forward. Rock that knocked Song to the hot ground and kept him down.

Khai breathed harshly, hands out, maintaining his magic connection with the fire in the earth.

“Do you accede defeat?” he shouted. His voice felt hoarse and dry and crackly. Calling that much fire to create that much lava was hard, and he hoped he wasn’t trembling.

Song stared at him.

Then, his eyes closed. “Yes.”

There was silence upon the field.

“Oh…Quy has won,” Ginzan said.

Khai dropped his hands, released the magic. Carefully, he stepped towards Song and held out a hand.

Song looked away, and got to his feet without Khai’s help.

“You’ve become stronger,” Song muttered.

Khai’s jaw tightened. “It was a good match. You need to see a healer.” His fingers itched to do just that for Song.

Song glanced away. “I know a water mage healer. I don’t like this. You might be good duelling one-on-one, but what if a group mobs you? What if someone ambushes you?” His eyes raised, sharp. “I don’t like this. I don’t like you being here.” With that, Song turned and walked away.

Anger flared in Khai’s gut.

So what if we used to play together as children? So what if you used to be my ‘big brother’? Fire licked across Khai’s knuckles. Song was just like his adopted aunt, both of them seeing a little girl named Mai, both of them blind to all the female mages who weren’t to be coddled.

He wanted to tell them both, he wanted to crawl out of his skin and scream at them, I’m not Mai! I was never Mai!

“—? Quy? Khai.”

Khai startled, turning his eyes onto Han.

“Are you…alright?” Han asked quietly.

“It’s fine,” Khai said automatically.

But Han came closer, his brows drawn up. “You were hurt.”

“And I can heal myself,” Khai said harshly. “I’ve been doing it for years.” Doing to keep my body from being even more horrible and wrong. “I’m not going to die. It’s not going to scar and ruin my pretty face.”

Han flinched. “Khai. I don’t mean that—you’ve just defeated Song. If you fight Ginzan and win, then you’ll technically rank above the second years as well.”

Khai immediately searched for Ginzan. He was standing with Song. “He’s the other top second year?”

Han gave him an incredulous look. “You didn’t know?”

Khai silently shook his head.

Han sighed. “What would Yang do?” he muttered.

The sound of Yang’s name brought the final parts of reality down. Khai slumped. “Everything is wrong.”

Han reached out a hand, placed on it upon Khai’s arm. “It’s not. You’ll come by later, won’t you?”

Khai breathed deeply, and methodically ignored what was wrong. “Yes,” he said, his voice satisfactorily firm. He turned his back to Song, to his problems. “I’ll see you later, Han.”

After a beat, Han nodded.

Khai hunched his shoulders and quickly headed home, mouth set in a thin, angry line and fire smouldering hot.