Khai rose with the sun, feeling good about the day ahead. After breakfast, he met Han at Yang’s house, and the two of them took Minh off her hands so that she could run errands. Khai and Han took Minh to go play with the other kids in the district. And together they had fun making glass trinkets for the kids, combining their fire and earth magic.

“Argg!” Han said, letting his glass solidify. “It just doesn’t act right.”

“It is more fluid,” Khai grinned. “Not good at all types of earth?”

“Rock shouldn’t be so liquid,” Han said, pouting.

Khai laughed. “But what about lava?”

Han rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who uses lava, not me!”

“Hmm, what’s this?”

Khai turned to Yang, smiling widely. “Hello! You’re back.”

Yang smiled. “Some of my errands require waiting.”

“We were making glass,” Han said, showing her some of the pieces. Khai matched his sheepish grin.

Yang laughed. “A little more practice, before you can get that dragon right,” she said. She picked up a misshapen glass dragon and reformed it herself. The kid who requested it clapped her hands and gave a shriek of glee when Yang passed it over.

Khai nudged Han. “Why aren’t you as good as Yang?”

“Maybe if you kept the glass hotter it would be easier to shape!” Han retorted.

Yang gave them a handful of metal coins. “Why don’t you two have lunch together?”

“I—I really can’t accept this,” Khai stammered, wide-eyed. “I have savings too—”

“Think of it as babysitting compensation,” Yang said, patting Khai on the head. “Now, off you two go.”

Khai blinked when Han grabbed his hand and tugged him up.

“If Yang says so, you listen,” Han said, winking.

Khai huffed a smile. “I can definitely see. We’ll be back soon, Yang.”

“Take your time,” Yang said pointedly.

Han gave a jaunty wave, and tugged Khai further.

“Where are you taking me?” Khai asked, trying hard to ignore the fact that they were still holding hands. He didn’t know if Han was queer or not. He didn’t want to assume.

And then there was Khai’s secret...even if Han was queer, he still might react badly if he found out. But Khai should tell him about Mai, before it came out in even worse circumstances. But the thought made Khai feel sick.

Han’s grip tightened, his fingers curling properly between Khai’s.

“Hey,” Han said lightly. “What’s wrong? The sun is shining, and I’m here. We’re headed to one of the markets. Best meat ever.”

Khai looked back at him. Han’s gaze was steady, and his inner life-flame was steady, if a little brighter than usual.

Khai breathed, and shook his head lightly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be worrying. But are you sure it’s the best meat over? A few years ago, I had this amazing slow-cooked, fatty off-the-bone.”

Han chuckled. “That, and more.”

The market turned out to be filled with people Khai realised that he knew. People he had treated, or friends or family there-of. Many of them were regulars at Thon’s tea shop, co-gossipers with Thon’s grandfather. A number more were friends with Yang.

“No, no, no,” they would insist. “We are not taking money from you, Healer Khai.”

“Have some! You’ve got to keep your strength,” they would say. “And eat some vegetables. My grandfather said you insisted on eating more of them.”

Han would grin knowingly, as Khai’s cheeks got hotter and hotter as he thanked the vendors profusely and accepted the food.

Together, they found an empty space, and Han moved earth up into a makeshift bench; food across the laps as they shared a dozen different dishes.

“If I wasn’t a mage, I would be a cook,” Han declared.

Khai laughed, feeling warm and giddy. “You can be one of those cook-mages. You don’t have a fire affinity, but you could make it work if you try hard enough.”

“Or you could help me,” Han grinned. “We made a great team with those glass things. If you could infuse fire in them, we could even sell them to the upper class.”

Khai snorted. “You’re terrible at finesse though. Jin would be better at it.”

Han pouted. “Do you like him more than me?”

“I—” Khai looked away. “You can’t blackmail me like that,” he grumbled. “Jin’s more of Raah’s friend anyway. And you were the first…you’re my closest friend.”

“UMM, we really could try to sell something,” Han quickly said. “Then you could purchase more expensive medicine ingredients. My dad’s a merchant, I definitely know what I’m talking about. He taught me business, before we found out that I was a mage.”

Khai glanced at him, lips twisting. “How is he? And your mother and sister? Last time…” Last time, his sister had misgendered Khai, and his mother had insulted all those in Han’s company.

Han’s face soured. “My father found out about my friendship with Quy. He’s pleased about that. Connections and favours and all. But Quy’s had his eye on me.”

Khai cringed. “I’m sorry that I can’t offer you connections and favours—”

Han gave an exasperated huff. “I never wanted it in the first place.” His smile turned fond. “We’re friends. Not two men brokering a deal.”

“Oh.” Khai bit his bottom lip. “But what do you want?”

“Have you heard of metamaterials?”

“Oh. Yes,” Khai said. “A more durable material than glass would be nice. I’ve broken many medicine bottles in my time. And flame resistant materials would be helpful.”

A smile bloomed across Han’s face. “There are so many experimental and magic-made materials. If we did it right, we could have less house fires, build buildings higher, making more durable everything.”

Khai had to smile as Han went on to describe the very more recent advances in material synthesis.

“—So, we could try to make something like glass. But instead of melting sand, we’d have to shift around and melt certain earths, though apparently it’s better made from earth-oil…” Han stopped, and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “That was a lot.”

“It was interesting,” Khai said firmly, smiling. He laughed a little. “Maybe I should have taken Chemical Structures after all.”

“My mother doesn’t approve it of it though,” Han sighed. “Speaking of things she doesn’t approve of...are you...”

Khai tilted his head. “Yes?”

Han’s eyes darted away. “Would you cut your sleeve?”

Khai sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes. I rise early with the sun. If I had to, I would do so. And you?”

Han had a wavering smile. “I can sense the earth’s vibrations. A light sleeper. If I had to, I would do so too. Khai, I—”

Khai wet his lips. The fire in his core reached out for Han’s sense of flame. Without conscious thought, Khai’s fingers brushed against Han’s cheek and jaw, hot in Han’s sudden flush.

Something crashed onto the ground. “Mai! What under the sun are you doing?!”

Khai’s heart jumped to his throat as fire flared out of his palms, arching up to singe his clothes. Quickly, he pulled the flames back before they could hurt Han.

“Woah, Khai, are you alright?” Han asked, brows drawing together in worry, a hand laying itself over Khai’s.

Khai shifted his hand, grasped Han’s fingers for a moment. “I’m fine. But—” Khai turned to none other than his aunt.

“You know her?” Han frowned.

“She’s my adopted aunt,” Khai said, trying hard to breath and not panic.

Han touched his arm. “Khai...” he said.

Khai flinched when he caught the tight expression on his aunt’s face. Inhaled. Stood up and bowed. “Good afternoon. Auntie. This is my...close friend, Han. Han, this is my aunt, Healer Mage Tien.”

Han got up and bowed too. “Good afternoon, Healer Mage Tien.”

Tien inclined her head. “A word, Mai.”

Han gave him a frown, and Khai shook his head, and went over to his aunt’s side. “Yes?”

Tien’s expression darkened. “What about Colonel Maru’s nice boy? And what are you doing, consorting with a man without a chaperone?”

“I’m an adult,” Khai said quietly.

Tien shook her head. “It’s bad enough that your hair is short like a man’s, but to dress like this as well?”

Khai flinched and took a step back.

“Khai?” Han reached out.

“Mai,” Tien said warningly.

Khai’s head dropped as flames arched up his arms. “Stop it, auntie. Stop it.”

“Mai, are you throwing a tantrum?”

“Stop calling me that. I hate the name Mai.” Khai lifted his head. “My name is Khai, I don’t need a chaperone, and—and I’m not a girl.”

Tien had a look of disbelief. “Mai, I’ve seen you! I’m a healer, I would know! It’s this big city. Taesu. Queerness ails the people.” She advanced forward, healing flame spreading over her hands. Her voice became soft. “Let me help you, Mai. Let me heal you.”

Khai shifted into a fighting stance. “I’m not sick. I’m a healer, I would know,” he added, throwing Tien’s words back. “And you must be wilfully blind if you missed all the queer people back at Karashu.”

“Mai, the ailment clouds your thought.” Tien advanced.

Narrowed eyes, Khai crossed his arms, and bars of flame cut the air between him and his aunt.

Tien hissed, and sliced through the fire. But Khai was burning, and he called the fire back white-blue hot.

“Without me around, you’ve learned how to hurt people with fire, have you? Are you going to hurt me? Fire can either heal, or kill.”

“Oh, auntie,” Khai said, smirking. “I learnt how to fight back in Karashu. It’s how I could heal those aggressive diseases, how I could bring the weakest back to life. Because life is energy and you have to fight for it. And the mage who taught me...she was queer too.” Khai pressed forward, forced Tien back.

“And I left Karashu because I wanted to get away from you, auntie. Because I was right. You wouldn’t understand. You wilfully stay ignorant.” Khai smashed the flames together in a sharp crack of heat-implosion and extinguished them. “Disown me, Healer Mage Tien. And I will pay you back what money you feel I owe you.”

“You were never prone to dramatics,” Tien said.

“I’ve known for at least a decade! Half my life!” Khai shouted back. He was so angry, and he had told her—he may as well keep going, because he was done. Done with the grating words, done with trying to keep up with the pretense of ‘Mai’. “You never asked.”

Tien took a step forward, hands reaching out, slowly pulling Khai’s separating bars of fire apart. “What has gotten in to you? Did you accidentally imprint that patient’s male-thoughts onto yourself?”

Khai gaped at her. “You—you—” he spluttered. He shook his head. “I can’t.” His stomach was rolling, fire filling his tight chest. “I can’t talk like this.” He turned back to Han.

Han gave a half shake of his head. “I don’t understand…”

“My name is Khai...”

“Mai—” Khai’s aunt said something that Khai ignored.

Han grabbed his hand. “I know that.” He leaned forward. “Do you want to get out of here? The earth could just open up beneath us...”

Oh. Khai gave Han a quick grin. And the ground shuddered beneath them.

*

Han didn’t understand over half of what Khai and his aunt had talked about. Most of it didn’t make sense.

But he could sense Khai’s magic, the way it flared erratically, even as Han transported them through solid earth. They came back up by the Water Fountains, which tinkled and sparkled in the sunlight. Yang wasn’t around, and neither were the younger kids from the morning.

“Well, she was…” Han started.

“You met her at a bad time. She has her good sides, but…”

Han pulled a face. “Ah, yes, just like all those violent criminals. They have a nice side that covers up their bad insides.”

Khai shook his head. “She’s not. It’s just...”

Despite Khai’s words, the air temperature around them ramped up.

Han nudged him. “Do you want to fight, Khai? Exercise could make you feel better. And my sister always seems to feel better after fighting with me.”

As Han had hoped, a tiny smile quirked at the corner of Khai’s lips.

“I would rather just make a huge pillar of flame. At least that way, I wouldn’t have to heal you at the end of the battle.”

“Hey!” Han pouted. “You don’t have to rub me into the ground like that.”

Khai’s smile became broader. “Han, you really are the best.”

Han flushed. “Are you sure you’re not a noble? All that flattery…”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true,” he replied. His look softened. “I...owe you. Do you have any questions about what my aunt said?”

Han blinked at him. Everything, was his first reaction. But he didn’t want Khai to be sad again. He shook his head. “We’re friends, we don’t owe each other. It’s not some kind of merchant deal,” Han added.

Khai quirked his lips. “Then we’re friends, and you can ask. And if I don’t like the question, we can have the fight you wanted.”

Han pursed his lips. He motioned to Khai, and the two of them took a seat on the edge of one of the fountains.

Finally, he said, “What do you want me to ask? Your aunt—she was saying a lot of things. I didn’t understand most of it. What patient was she talking about? Was it someone yesterday?”

“Day before. I was with her, with another Healer.” Khai’s face became desolate. He looked away from Han. “You should ask why she called me Mai.”

Han blinked. “Oh! Yesterday, Song approached me. He asked me about someone named Mai. But I don’t know anyone by that name...” He trailed off. He frowned. “Was he...asking about you?” He shook his head. “But that makes no sense...”

In a small voice that made Han bend in closer to hear, Khai said: “Mai was the name given to me by my birth parents. But it was wrong.” He gave Han a glance, and Han was quick to give a thoughtful nod in return.

“You know that I am...gay,” Khai finally said.

Han bit his bottom lip. Nodded, and felt, rather than saw, Khai’s brief flicker of attention to his mouth.

“Well. There’s more. When I was a young child, too young to understand what adults were doing, the healers and the adults all decided I was a girl. I had the parts after all.”

Han furrowed his brow, trying to think. “So...you...” he motioned at Khai’s groin, and then flushed.

Khai’s shoulders hunched up. “Yeah.”

Han tried not to shudder at the thought.

Khai’s lips quirked a little. “The worst part is not that. It’s with everyone looking at me and thinking girl, thinking woman. When I’m not. My fire combat trainer, she was the one who helped me with my true name.” Khai gave a half-strangled laugh. “Well, if Tien tried to do some kind of blood binding spell, she’d use the wrong name and the spell won’t catch. Small mercies.”

Han reached out a hand. “Khai...You were...born like a girl?”

Khai nodded, pressed a hand over his face. “I would...understand that if you’re gay, that you...won’t like me anymore. As a friend or...”

Han’s chest tightened. His heart skipped a beat when Khai’s gold eyes looked at him.

“Ah! Han! Khai! There you are!”

Han nearly jumped.

Thon raced towards them, face set in worry. “You need to go. Khai...there are people coming for you.”

*

Khai chilled. His aunt? He jumped to his feet.

Thon stopped panting. “Han. Can you—”

Han frowned. “What is it?”

“Stop right there, Mages! We’re looking for Healer Mage Khai!”

Khai whipped his gaze around. A group of uniformed people were approaching.

“It’s the council,” Thon muttered. “What do you want?” Thon said loudly.

One of the healers came forward, and pointed out Khai. “That is him, Council Member Wei. His magic trace matches.”

The most high ranking of them stepped, hands tucked in flowing green, gold-edged robes. “It has come to my attention that Healer Khai has been operating in my district,” the Council Member said imperiously. “For the safety of my constituents, we must ensure that his credentials are valid.”

The healer nodded and turned to them. She looked vaguely familiar, one of the healers at the Healers’ Association. “Your licence, Healer Khai?”

Khai’s stomach dropped.

His healer license was in his pocket. But it was written to the name Mai. His hands tensed.

Council Member Wei scowled at him. “Show your license immediately! If not...Unlawfully practicing healing will be five years of imprisonment.”

Khai breathed. Made his face calm. And reached inside his outer robe to retrieve his licence. The wrong name flashed back at him. And purposefully, Khai heated a fingertip to hot and seared off the first part of his deadname.

Then, he held it out, forcing the other healer to come up to him. “Here.”

The healer took the licence, and gave Khai a sharp look as she touched the part with Khai’s deadname. With her own twist of earth-magic, she restored the licence.

“Healer Mage Mai, apprenticed to Healer Mage Tien, Karashu,” she read out, frowning. “You are not Healer Tien’s niece. When did you take this from Healer Mage Mai?”

The Council Member tilted his head back and stared at Khai down his nose. “Stealing and practicing without license? Theft, too? Arrest him!”

“Get back,” Han growled, moving to stand in front of Khai.

“Han, don’t,” Khai implored. He stepped around Han and met the healer’s gaze squarely. “My licence is real. My blood-print matches.”

“Tell that to the court.” The Council Member waved a negligent hand and turned around. “Capture him. And oh, the punishment for evading arrest can mean up to an additional year’s imprisonment, not to mention the crime for assaulting district council guards.”

Khai made a pleading face at the healer. “Really—just, check—”

The healer merely tucked Khai’s license away.

The district council guards approached, steel chains glinting in the sun.

Fire burned, pushed against Khai’s skin, wanting to escape. He could just blast them all. He could jump and escape, but then he’d be on the run.

A sense of familiar magic suddenly washed through the air, and Khai’s eyes narrowed.

“Stop!”