"... Princess Xinyi?"

 

 

Amari bowed back to Leishan, "We have now met."

"I suppose I'm one of the few left who has yet to give you something."

He pulled out a small ribbon, perhaps nabbed off one of many porches giving them out for free. Amari allowed him to approach, before taking it out of his hand with a smile and dropping to the bottom of the satchel.

"..."

Leishan coughed, "Right, the cape is full already."

He faced out, tapping the railway at an offbeat of the music. Perhaps he didn't know, but Amari caught how stiff the man's shoulders were. Amari's lips turned up slightly. Perhaps he had been prolonging their meeting all day... because of his nerves.

Suddenly, the pacing figure of Leishan could be seen in his mind, panicking over trivial details of how he'd woo over Amari.

It was a bit cute.

"They told me... I could stay here. Instead of returning to Nanjie."

"Do you like it here?"

Amari inhaled deeply, puffing his chest all the way out, and then letting it deflate. The cape ruffled in the wind and tugged at his shoulders. The satchel too, rubbed against his side.

"Here... it's strange. Everything is so strange. Not once has someone asked me for rain. Or asked to put me in chains. Here there is no one that fears me."

"I'm sorry." Leishan squeezed the railing, "I failed to do anything sooner."

"I am not your responsibility to save."

Leishan looked over, his following words of regret taken from his mouth. Amari spread his fingers out, watching the blinking lantern lights flit in and out between the gaps of his fingers. A breeze whipped his hair forward against his chin and into the darkness of the voidless sky.

"But," Amari continued," you helped me. Didn't you? Why else could the King of Beijie find me, when even Nanjie's government could not? You told them of my existence. You told them...this generation's Caller had been found. Because you knew...the temples could not ignore such a request from the kingdom to regain their Caller back."

Amari picked apart Leishan's alarmed expression. Fear flickered in his eyes—an anxious, swimming wave that spread to his tense shoulders. Would someone who wanted to take advantage of their past lives as lovers...react so poorly to him finding out? Wouldn't Leishan want to manipulate gratitude out of him for it?

So why was he scared?

Amari no longer knew... what it was Leishan wanted.

"It's true," Leishan admitted. "I told them. A long time ago, I told them."

Amari stewed over the words, unsure of how to dissemble the mixed concoction of emotions pooling in his chest. The folk song ended, and clapping and cheering resonated throughout the plaza. Only as the next song began to pick up, did Amari manage to finally boil down his thoughts.

"I like the people here. The ruler. The misshapen stairs and the countless turquoise murals. The food, too. I like it here."

"Then you should stay," Leishan said, a relieved smile radiating off his face.

Amari was forced to turn away from the blinding sight.

"Why... are you treating me like this? Are you not here to convince me to return with you?"

"I don't want to convince you of anything. I just want you to be safe."

"Why do you pretend to care for me personally," Amari sharply cut in. "I didn't ask for any of this."

No.

"I didn't want you to change things."

That's wrong.

"I didn't want to talk to you."

I...

Amari stepped back, lips pressed into a thin line. Joyful stringed music weaved in between them like a wedge. He couldn't tell what Leishan's expression was. Instead, he stared at the ground. Bitter, he imagined. Betrayed. Or maybe even filled with hatred—the final straw of all attempts to convince him. Maybe cold, steely hatred would sate this empty pit—the urge to know Leishan no longer wanted anything to do with him.

To know he never saw Amari as anything more than a reminiscent, past lover. To understand that he was not as kind or gentle as them. To realize he was not a perfect soul—he was blackened to the core, with unforgivable sins inking it rotten.

A faint, minuscule water drop fell to the tile, before soaking in with a dark stain. Amari, knowing full well the rain would not arrive until next week, jerked his chin upward, before standing numbly still. Leishan had turned slightly away. The movement only brought more attention to the tears dripping silently down Lesihan's chin. The dim light unveiled his reddened eyes.

No such thing could have prepared Amari for the guilt crushing his throat so tight, he could barely breathe. It was as if every disguised, heavy exhale added another intense pressure against his heart.

"Stop crying," Amari whispered, "I'm in the wrong. I was too harsh to you."

The tears didn't stop. Amari's heart seemed to have been pulverized to dust. He knew his words were odd in retrospect, but Amari's panicked guilt stopped his rational thinking. Leishan didn't respond. He tensed as if with one sudden movement he'd bolt into the crowds. Amari quickly picked through the foggy memories of his lost childhood to figure out what had once calmed his tears.

Then, he remembered the comfort of another's embrace.

Amari, with a slow and steady movement, wrapped his arms around Leishan's back. His chin rested atop the man's shoulders, feeling the waves of shuddering ebb and flow. With every breath, they grew slower and slower.

"I took out my frustrations on you. I'm sorry," Amari whispered. He had yet to let go, still fearing the man would slip out of his arms at a moment's notice. "I hurt you."

"And I've... failed to maintain our distance like you asked. It was deserved."

Amari looked at him and retorted mildly. "You can't take this blame without standing up for yourself, otherwise you'll be pushed around all the time. What happened to the confident, flirtatious man murmuring in my ear?"

"I thought perhaps... you'd form a better impression of me. Rather than, as I am currently."

Leishan stepped out of Amari's embrace as if the proximity of their bodies had become unbearably close. He recovered a somewhat dignified expression, save for the flush, embarrassed cheeks, and glanced over to the crowd.

"I shall... take my leave. Goodbye, Amari."

"Leishan—"

Leishan's back paused. Amari's blood thrummed in his veins. If Leishan left now... Amari would never see him again. This would be the end. He and Leishan would forever have their paths split apart, with no way to reconverge them.

"Let us reconvene tomorrow here at this time. So we can truly meet."

"Really," Leishan wondered.

"Truly. And, I didn't... the words were not meant to leave as they did. So tomorrow... let us meet once more."

With a faint smile, Leishan agreed. Leishan departed, his fox form skittering through the crowd. Amari slouched against the railway, suddenly feeling exhausted. He had not enough ability to properly comprehend what he, nor Leishan had just done—no capability to analyze it to its most minuscule degree.

He closed his eyes... letting his mind sink into the sounds of Beijie all around him. The song. The scuffing of heels against the tile. A laughing voice nearby, coy and joyful—Minato, he faintly recognized. And a low, distinct rasp of a voice followed after, endlessly spewing romantic nonsense. As he knew before, he could always pick out such a voice, even in the dense crowd.

Princess Xingyi, Amari dully recognized.

Amari opened his eyes, only to see the handsome, broad-shouldered Jun dancing with Minato, spinning him in tune to a high, jumping trill. His turquoise bandanna jumped with each movement.

"...Princess Xinyi?"

Without thinking, the name left Amari's mouth.

And at the same time, Jun turned—eyes widening.

No other person paid heed to the name of a Beijian princess amongst a busy crowd where names are endlessly called to each other. He naturally looked elsewhere past Amari, before leading Minato out of Amari's line of sight. But, the single moment was enough to sync the lingering voices of Princess Xinyi and Jun together, to the point where they were indistinguishable.