Chapter Text
Sing lie sprawled on the tiled ground, listening to the hiss of the waterfall beside him. Blue was being threatened out of the sky by some grey storm clouds and Sing knew why. With a sigh, he sat up and looked at the being responsible. “In a new bad mood, my lord?” Sing asked.
Across the way, standing in the center of a lake, was his young master, Yut Lung, a water god with great power and too much of a temper fueling it to be trusted. Two snakes slid past Sing and made their way to Yut Lung, swirling about at his feet like lapdogs waiting for a scratch. As was his way, Yut Lung kicked at them and sent them zigzagging away in fear. Sing noticed the scowl on Yut Lung's face and scanned the grey clouds again, already going black and gaining girth. Yep, everything checked out.
“Anything I can do to quell your fury?” Sing called. “You know, before you cause another downpour. The last one lasted two whole days. We might have our own blocked-off area here, but you have control of the weather in a number of worlds, remember. We'll get complaints.”
Yut Lung stomped around, splashing with his arms crossed. Sing thought he was going to get ignored some more, but Yut Lung began walking toward him, stopping at the water's edge where he could never cross onto dry land. “Do you think I care?” he asked, cocking a brow. “I'm stuck here, day in and day out, and I'm supposed to concern myself with beings that will cry at getting a little wet? I have half a mind to flood every world in existence. Maybe, once everything is under water, I can get out of this kiddy pool.”
“You do that,” Sing said, “and we'll have a problem, you and I.”
Yut Lung smiled a crocked smile. “And what would you do about it?”
“I'd leave you here all alone to swim in your wider playground. Try to have fun when pretty much everything alive has drowned and you have no one to run your mouth to.”
“You're just one minuscule bodyguard,” Yut Lung grumbled, “like I'd care if you ran off. Many creatures do well in water,” he added, picking up one of the snakes that had come crawling back to him. “Like this guy here.” The snake stretched and hissed in Sing's face. “Your argument's invalid. You're utterly disposable.”
“Maybe,” Sing admitted. “But I'm one of the few bodyguards that actually gives half a damn about you and isn't just on the job to move up in ranks. You should be grateful I stick around.”
“I'd be grateful if you and all your water dragon kind vaporize.”
Sing suppressed a sigh but couldn't hold back an eye roll.
“I saw that,” Yut Lung informed him.
“Good,” Sing retorted, “because, honestly, I'm getting tired of holding back and you should know how infuriating you are.”
“I'm bored,” Yut Lung complained. “Seriously, you try living in a pond.”
Caged in and expected to do nothing but what was told by Sing and other guards like him until higher-ups had a plan for what to do with him, Sing could almost sympathize. Steep rock walls surrounded Yut Lung's environment on all sides, but Sing could return to his dragon form, scale them, and take to the skies in flight. He'd never felt trapped and couldn't fully imagine it, but he did know the binds of restrictions and regulations. Even if Yut Lung could live out of water, Sing would know better than to free him, no matter how sorry he felt, but he could do something else.
“Would it help if I gathered some gossip for you?” Sing asked. “You like hearing about the other worlds, don't you?”
Yut Lung shrugged and turned his back, but not before Sing caught a blush creeping onto his face. “I don't particularly care what others are up to, but it is better than knowing nothing at all. If I have to stay put, being informed is a must.”
Sing snickered. “So that's a 'yes, please,' am I right?”
“Do what you want,” Yut Lung answered.
Shaking his head, Sing gave in. It was as close to a 'yes' as he was going to get. “Fine, I'll talk to someone that has a bird's eye view of things, literally, and let you know what's been going on far and wide.” Before he took to his dragon form, he added. “I'm better than a paper boy, delivering news so fresh it hasn't hit the press yet.”
Yut Lung waved a hand, back still turned. “You're more like those human housewife gossipers I've heard about, or the half-competent sofa operas that occupy them.”
“'Half-competent,'” Sing muttered. “Thanks, I'll take that as half a compliment.”
With that, Sing looked to the sky, arms to his sides, and braced himself as his his neck and legs stretched, his arms melded with his body, and the color and texture of his skin changed. In yellow dragon form, he climbed his way up the waterfall rather than using the rocky surroundings, wanting to enjoy the spray on his scales and give Yut Lung a bit of a drenching with the swing of his tail. Once he reached the waterfall's top, he kept propelling, pushed until he took to the air. His scales went from yellow to iridescent, camouflaging him with the colors of nearby air particles and light. He didn't want to be seen by just anyone.
In time, he began his ascent, rising higher and higher into the clouds. He narrowed his eyes as he neared his destination, realizing that this place wasn't quite like he remembered. Namely, too quiet, even for beings that seemed to like keeping their voices down. Was this really the kingdom of the tengu?
He asked himself that, but really there was no mistaking it. Rainbows and sunbeams cut through the clouds, decorating like what Eiji called human world party streamers. Like the tengu's borrowed jewelry that they wore around their necks, potted soil and seeds had been brought here where they grew into entirely new species of fruit, the biggest and tastiest-looking of any worlds' because of direct rain and sunlight. The tengu didn't need to eat and often let them grow as they pleased so, somehow, the plants thanked them by sustaining themselves, remaining healthy, and thriving with fruit that never seemed to rot, just acting as treats for visiting allies like Sing or ornaments. Where golden tiles didn't line the clouds as walkways, the clouds themselves functioned as the plushiest flooring around that held rather than acting like normal clouds and being something to fall through. It was all a mystery to Sing, as it should be. He was just a guest after all, nothing more.
When Sing reached the weight-bearing layers of cloud, he noticed faint bloodstains on them, a few broken feathers, and still felt the chill of how deserted the place was. He'd heard that there had been another war between the tengu and one of their many adversaries. He'd fought on the side of the tengu before himself, but he didn't think he was needed this time around. His duties kept him practically strapped to Yut Lung's side, but if he'd known how bad it had been . . .
Sing snapped out of his thoughts and looked around harder. Was Eiji here or had he been—?
There was a boy looking in Sing's direction, as though he could see him. He shouldn't be surprised. Tengu had quite a strong sense of perception, as far as Sing could tell. Sing landed and reverted back to a less intimidating shape, the guise of a human, similar to the tengu's own form.
“I'm looking for Eiji,” Sing said. “Have you seen him?”
“There's no one by that name here,” the little boy said.
“Well, he used to be here,” Sing reasoned. “Do you know where he went?”
The boy shook his head. “As far as I know, no one here is named Eiji and no one ever was. I've never met him. There's not that many tengu here so it's not hard to learn everyone's names.”
Sing frowned, racking his brain for what to do or say next to make sense of everything.“How long have you been here anyway?”
“Not long,” the boy admitted.
“Then that's why,” Sing said, mostly to himself. At least he knew he wasn't losing his mind, creating imaginary friends. Still, that meant most of the tengu had been wiped out. Sing felt dizzy but he kept a straight face. “Thanks anyway, kid.” Before readying his descent, Sing turned to the boy once more. “What's your name?”
“Everyone calls me Skip.”
“Skip,” Sing smiled. “I'll remember that.”
With that, Sing morphed again and took back to the skies in a plummet that could have made his stomach drop if he hadn't felt like he'd swallowed a rock as big as his fist already.
***
On his way back to Yut Lung, Sing traveled past Earth. He could at least try to find something to talk about and occupy his master's restless mind. He couldn't say much about the Tengu Kingdom itself, didn't want to. Being trusted to visit their home in the clouds was a privilege that Sing didn't want revoked, even if he may have lost his biggest reason for dropping by.
The place Eiji loved to chat about was a city called New York. He watched it tirelessly for some reason and had sparked Sing's own interest in it, thus that's where he decided to journey. A sound pierced him as he flew over, or a feeling, Sing wasn't sure but it pulled him to a beach. He landed a distance from any humans to change back into his presentable guise again, one that could pass for a young teenage Earth-dweller. He then took his time walking, still being tugged by an inexplicable gut feeling.
That's when he saw him.
“Eiji,” he shouted, almost getting tripped up in the sand as he began to trot.
Eiji turned to him, taking a moment to get over his surprise before he began waving. “Sing!”
Hearing Eiji shout almost made Sing come to a halt. Tengu always kept their voices down; some avoided talking altogether. Then again, there was something different about Eiji. Sing didn't experience the usual calm he got in Eiji's presence, at least not as strongly. As Sing got closer, he could see more clearly, and a lot of things caught his attention. Eiji was . . . glowing somehow but without his tengu aura, and Sing couldn't see wings on his back although he only wore a thin T-shirt, and there was someone sitting beside him, kicking at the waves, with golden hair that truly shimmered in the sun's light.
“Long time, no see,” Eiji said when Sing reached him, “and you're here on Ear—” he stopped himself from finishing that sentence, glancing at the few strangers milling about. “And you're in New York. That's a surprise . . . though not entirely.”
Sing sat beside him, narrowing his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”
“I was talking about you last time I was here because of the sudden powerful rain. I thought of that moment again just now, before you got here. Maybe it was some kind of telepathy.”
So that was it , Sing thought, the pull he'd been feeling.
Eiji peeked around, seemingly making sure no one was near before saying, “A supernatural being can often sense another, so I guess that's what put the thought in my head to begin with. Though I don't feel like one lately, I guess I am still tengu after all.”
Eiji giggled then, but Sing started, looking past Eiji to the golden-haired boy still sitting calmly on the other side of him. He only gawked back at Sing, wary of him and not what Eiji had just said. He was a human, wasn't he? How was Eiji talking about all this with him here? How was the guy not shocked out of his mind?
“Someone you know, I'm assuming,” the boy said, eyes still on Sing.
Eiji regarded him. “Ah, yes, sorry. This is one of the mediators I mentioned before, one who watches over a young water deity who can control rain. His name is Sing.”
The boy said nothing else, so Eiji turned back to Sing. “This is Ash,” Eiji explained.
“Is he human?”
“Of course.”
“And he knows about you, and now, me.” Sing didn't phrase his words as a question.
“He knows there are supernatural creatures around, yes,” Eiji confirmed. “Don't worry. He can be trusted.”
So you say, Sing thought, though he didn't contradict Eiji aloud. He fumed internally a bit, until he thought of one more thing he'd noticed while approaching Eiji: the smile Eiji had on his face before Sing called out to him, the reason he'd seemed to glow. No matter how often he'd visited in the clouds, Sing had never seen that face.
“So what exactly happened anyway?” Sing asked. “I went to the Tengu Kingdom before finding my way here and there were so few tengu that I thought you were dead. Did you lose your wings in the battle?”
Eiji shook his head. “I did lose my original voice in a fight, kind of, but that was here on Earth. And my wings . . . they were injured in the battle and healed thanks to Ash. I went back to the Kingdom, saw it in ruins and was given a choice to stay or go back to Earth, at the cost of my wings.”
Sing blinked at Eiji in shock. “And you gave up your ability to fly? You were willing to keep yourself grounded?”
“I guess,” Eiji considered, “I found something better than flying, something that would have hurt far worse had I given it up.” Eiji cast a glance at Ash and the two locked eyes, smiling as they passed each other a knowing look.
Sing sighed, watching the two kick at the water some more. Eiji was wrong. He hadn't given up his wings to have a place on Earth, so much as to be a part of this Ash's world. Maybe that was wrong too. Honestly, it looked like the two of them had made their own world together, their own universe. Sing had the urge to clutch at his chest when the fires of envy ignited, but instead took a deep breath and smothered the flames. This was a good thing, Sing convinced himself, a good thing.
Sing managed to smile as he playfully warned. “Hey, be careful of the Shui Gui in this area. Many of them have been succeeding at drowning passersby. If you don't want to take their place haunting the sea as a vengeful spirit while your body is possessed and stolen, I suggest sticking close to land. At least, for now.”
“Right,” Eiji nodded, barely seeming to have heard his words since he made no move to leave the ocean's edge. “Thanks, Sing.”
“Sure.” Sing got up and brushed sand from his behind. He started to say 'Take care of yourself' to Eiji but stopped himself. “Take care of each other,” he said instead.
The two nodded and Sing slowly began his walk back to a spot where he could switch to dragon mode. He couldn't help but hear a few words of the two's private conversation as he left, Eiji saying, “I have a feeling, in another world, the two of you would have formed a good partnership, maybe even been friends.” Then a sigh and Ash responding, “I thought he was a decent kid and all, but don't exaggerate, Eiji.”
Sing grinned and carried on.
Today was a good day. Yeah, maybe he didn't have any daily human life stuff to tell Yut Lung about, but he had something twice as exciting. On his flight back, Sing considered if perhaps he should keep Eiji's integration into the human world a secret. Then again, Eiji didn't say he'd had to. If Yut Lung didn't hear something to tickle his fancy, they'd all be in pouring rain for who-knew-how-long. What could relaying the tale of some wayward tengu hurt?