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Waking up in the body of a child one time was bad enough, but to do it twice in a row was more than slightly irritating. When Shang Qinghua blinked his eyes open several moments ago to find that he was once again too short, too soft, and held too tightly, he had to fight back tears of mixed despondence and frustration- that is, before he realized who, exactly, he was.
The arms encircling him were familiar and warm, holding him on one hip as a leg bounced him slightly, as if trying to keep him distracted from crying. The shirt that he was clinging to was flimsy, dark blue, and very, very modern. A quick glance upward proved his forming hypothesis beyond a doubt: the one holding him was his father!! His very young father! Which could only mean that he was…
As the thought sunk in, Shang Qinghua (or, more accurately, Little Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky) tugged insistently on his father’s shirt.
“Hm? What is it? Are you done crying?” His father looked down at him with an exhausted smile. Once the initial shock of his surroundings faded somewhat, Little Airplane realized that the two of them were standing near the far wall of the living room of his childhood home, his father holding the house phone to his ear with his shoulder. “I know that you’re bored, but- no, I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to our son , you know, or have you forgotten him already?”
Flipping from tired fondness to annoyance, his father set him down and gave him a pat on the head before bickering further with the person on the other end of the line, who Little Airplane didn’t even need to guess to know the true identity of. Rather than stay and listen further, he decided to explore his surroundings. In doing so, it reminded him just how different things had been these past years in Proud Immortal Demon Way, where creature comforts were hard to come by and everything felt foreign to him despite being created in his mind (or something that he'd seen a million times over in dramas). Even weirder, though, was the fact that after so long living as Shang QingHua, this was the existence that currently felt fake. The photos on the walls, the couches, the television, the kitchen with all of its appliances; each and every one of these things felt wrong now!
Speaking of, how did he even get here!?
Trying to think back to the events that preceded this rude awakening, Little Airplane came up nil. The last thing he remembered was Bing-ge and Cucumber bro coming to the Ice Palace to discuss something with Mobei Jun, but what that something was eluded him.
Was it possible that he’d chosen this himself? Had he decided to return home after all? Was this what the System meant by returning him home!?
Did he have to relive his entire life!?
Say it ain't so!! He can’t take childhood round 3, please don't make him do it!
Feeling very sick to his stomach, Little Airplane rushed to the bathroom in an attempt to find a mirror, only to realize upon entering that he was now too short to see into it. If he could only climb up on the sink, or find some kind of a stool… No, there was no time to look for something like that; if he didn't see how old he was right then, Little Airplane was going to explode from anxiety. Instead, he ran from the room into the one that belonged to his father, clambering onto the bed to stare into the mirror on the dresser in front of it. Based off of appearances, Little Airplane had to be around four years old at this point in time, and now that it had been confirmed with his own eyes, he couldn't help but to let out an anguished wail.
“Shut up!”
Ceasing his crying by sheer force of surprise alone, Little Airplane turned his attention back to the mirror, where the image of his own tiny form had been replaced by a different room and a different child, one who was glaring daggers at him with bright blue eyes. He had a serious face and long, tied-back hair, and the room around him looked almost as if it had been carved out of ice.
“Who are you?” The apparition demanded as Little Airplane opened and closed his mouth in astonishment.
Could it be?
Could it really be!?
“Great king!” Little Airplane sniffled, wiping an arm across his nose and moving as far towards the edge of bed as he could without falling off. Even this distance between them felt too much, but there wasn’t anything else to do about it. There was no way he would be able to get up on the dresser. How wonderful to see a (different kind of) familiar face! Did that mean that this was just some kind of trick?
Mobei Jun’s eyebrows furrowed at the exclamation, and he appeared to lean forward slightly to get a closer look. After a moment, he called, “...Shang Qinghua?”
“Yes, yes! My king, it’s me!”
“Why…” Mobei Jun’s expression was highly displeased. “Do you look like that?”
Ah.
Why indeed.
“It appears we’ve regressed into children,” Little Airplane answered dutifully, dodging the real question offered by the adorable mini-version of his master.
“No,” Mobei Jun snapped, nodding his head at Little Airplane sharply. “Why do you look like that? ”
There really was no explanation that would satisfy him, so Little Airplane blurted out the first thing to come to mind before instantly regretting it. “Like what?”
In an ironic twist of fate, the ice demon looked as if he were about to erupt into flames at this answer, fists clenched at his side and mouth open to take in a deep breath that would surely be followed by something biting- but instead, he simply let the air out through his nose and glared resolutely to the side. “Not yourself.”
“It’s a long story! I’ll tell you later!” Little Airplane said, a bit too desperately, leaning forward now himself, as if proximity would prove how genuine his words were. However, he misjudged his distance to the edge and toppled to the floor before he could say anything further. Over the years he spent as a wimpy cultivation disciple and then as a punching bag for a demon lord, Little Airplane thought that he’d gotten rather used to physical injuries. After the confrontation with Linguang Jun, he should have been impervious to any kind of pain less intense than a dislocation, at least. Turns out, though, that to a four-year-old body, everything hurts like a b*tch!! The impact caused him to let out a sharp cry against his wishes.
From the ground, Little Airplane could hear Mobei Jun shout “Shang Qinghua!” At the same time, thundering footsteps sounded from down the hall, and within seconds his father was standing in the doorway. He called out his son’s original name before scooping him back into his arms and holding him close, patting his back while murmuring words of comfort. Little Airplane felt an odd mix of conflicting emotions as he buried his face into his father’s chest. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like a stranger around the man who raised him, didn’t feel as if the kindness given to him was something handed out only out of duty or politeness. But this was the past; his father in the present was a different person entirely, and so was he.
Little Airplane was also a grown man, not a child, and while the attention was relaxing for a moment, now he needed the freedom to move on his own.
“What were you even doing?” His father asked gently, placing a kiss on top of his head.
“I need the mirror!” Little Airplane responded. To make his point, he squirmed in his father’s arms to reach toward the one where Mobei Jun was still standing, staring at them with an unreadable expression. His father nearly dropped him but held fast, setting him down on the dresser and in front of the mirror. Little Airplane arranged himself into a sitting position, though the other child continued to stand.
Once in place, he nodded his thanks and returned his attention to Mobei Jun. “Do you know how this happened, my king?”
While his father laughed in the background about imaginary friends, obviously unable to see anything but the normal reflection in the mirror, Mobei Jun answered in the negative. Then, the young ice demon continued, “Get over here.”
“I… don't know how.”
“Find a way.”
“You come over here,” Little Airplane countered, feeling all at once very brave. Even if Mobei Jun had been continuing to beat him lately, which he hadn't for months now, there was no way for him to touch Little Airplane across the mirror. And on top of that, the incident with the ramen had also made him more adventurous in his demands as of late.
“Don’t want to,” Mobei Jun replied. His gaze traveled over to rest on Little Airplane’s father, eyes holding something dark and inscrutable. He amended his previous demand. “Get out of there.”
Little Airplane followed Mobei Jun’s gaze, looking back at his father once more. He looked normal, just younger, just more tired, just a little freer in his affection. Was Mobei Jun trying to tell him that there was something wrong here? That his father wasn't really his father? That he was the one behind all of this!?
After staring at him so long, it appeared that his father had assumed his time talking to the mirror was over, and he reached out to pick up his son once more. This time, though, Little Airplane didn't let him- he reached out for something, anything, to allow him to keep his spot on the dresser, hand brushing against the glass briefly in his haste. That is, it should have brushed against the glass, but instead of the hard barrier he was expecting, Little Airplane felt nothing but open air.
So that’s it! Cue the Roman choir!
He stood and pushed himself forward through the open space in the mirror as quickly as he possibly could, falling into and knocking over Mobei Jun while letting out a wail of “Save me, great king!”
He stayed there for a second, breathing heavily and trembling slightly, until he noticed Mobei Jun’s wide-eyed, unbelieving expression beneath him.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say! He really was going to die!
“I-I-I deeply apologize!” He stuttered, feeling very much like Shang Qinghua once more and attempting to get to his feet. This endeavor was unsuccessful, as Mobei Jun had somehow wrapped his arms around him and was now patting his back with one hand, much the same way as his father had not long before.
...What the f*ck?
This is having the opposite effect! Too scary! Very OOC!
No matter how close they've gotten in the past weeks since Shang Qinghua decided to stay in Proud Immortal Demon Way, this kind of tender gesture is just too much!
“My king, please allow me to stand.”
“If you calm down, I’ll let you go.” Mobei Jun continued to pat his back, and Shang Qinghua went limp, as if he were playing dead while battling a monster. He was very proficient at that.
“See, I am very calm! Thank you! Please release me!”
Mobei Jun shook his head almost imperceptibly, tightened his arms around Shang Qinghua, and continued on patting. “You’re still shaking.”
Was he? This time, Shang Qinghua really did attempt to calm himself, taking deep, even breaths and closing his eyes. The whole scene from before had definitely shocked him, so he would admit that he was still freaked out. He’d thought he’d have to endure the torture that is childhood all over again, then he saw his father, then a tiny Mobei Jun, then his father might have been a fake… It was a lot to deal with at one time. Once the initial shock of the action wore off, he found that maybe this did help the slightest bit to make him calm. After what felt like several minutes, Mobei Jun finally released Shang Qinghua from his grasp, and both got to their feet.
Curious as to whether or not his father (or the thing pretending to be him) could manage to pass through the portal into the ice palace as well, Shang Qinghua turned to look in the direction from which he ran, only to find a solid wall of ice. It was polished enough to see his and Mobei Jun’s reflections, but no hint of his childhood home was to be found.
“Do you know what he was?” Shang Qinghua asked as he dusted off his t-shirt and pants. He was surprised by the lack of chill he felt only for a moment; if Mobei Jun hadn’t helped out with that, then it was possible that the two of them wouldn't be affected by each other’s… dream worlds? Memories? Did he ever write anything like that? It couldn't be the dream demon, the details were too crisp and specific… Pocket universes, maybe?
“Hm? I should ask you,” Mobei Jun’s eyebrows were raised, and the implication in his expression seemed to be ‘about many more things than that, and you promised to explain them.’
That certainly gave him pause. “You warned me to get out, my king. I assumed you meant he was a monster.”
“No,” is the response he received, with no further explanation other than a brief moment in which Mobei Jun seemed unable to meet his eyes. So it was still just a way to get Shang Qinghua to do what he wanted? Really? When he opened his mouth to formulate what would most likely be an annoyed response (so perhaps it was best that he never had the opportunity to say it), Mobei Jun reached out to tug at the material of his shirt sleeve, looking unsatisfied. “Change back.”
“I have no other clothes,” Shang Qinghua answered. He was prepared to allow the tugging to go on for as long as the other liked, but almost immediately upon hearing Shang Qinghua’s words, Mobei Jun pulled his hand back and let it fall to his side.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Unexpectedly, the comment stung. Sure, he might not have been the cutest kid on the planet, but surely his real face wasn’t so bad that Mobei Jun couldn't stand to even see it anymore? Did ‘Shang Qinghua’ truly look that much better? Maybe it was irrational and weird, but he’d kind of wanted Mobei Jun to like his real face. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he’d wanted Mobei Jun to prefer his real face, even.
“Ah, I- I am sorry, my king, I don’t know how to do that either.” Shang Qinghua coughed and looked about the room, trying to get his bearings and get his mind off of silly things. He should have known every room in the palace by now, but this one was unlike anything he’d seen before when visiting. It was practically covered floor to ceiling with books, toys, blankets, drawings... almost like it belonged to-
It was impossible to reconcile the image of the adult Mobei Jun that Shang Qinghua carried in his mind (scary as hell, violent, serious, dignified, handsome, etc.) with the room that they occupied now, and to be quite honest, it was impossible to reconcile it with the four-year-old Mobei Jun standing in front of him as well. Had he written this? Was this the kind of child that his king was before experiencing betrayal at such a young age: normal?
Throughout everything that had happened to him since transmigrating, Shang Qinghua had often cursed himself for writing the things that inconvenienced him, but right now, for the first time, he felt kind of bad for writing Mobei Jun the way he did. If he’d known that he would become a real person… Or rather, if he’d known that one day they'd be friends… Would he have changed things?
...
That’s a depressing thought! Move on!
“Have you seen anyone yet?” He asked with a nervous laugh, just as Mobei Jun had opened his mouth to say something.
Mobei Jun shook his head, silent.
Not thirty seconds later, however, the door to the room swung open to reveal a much younger Linguang Jun. Had their history not been what it was (and had he not created the man’s personality himself), Shang Qinghua might have thought the entrance heartwarming, Mobei Jun’s uncle bounding into the room and enveloping his nephew in a hug with bright eyes and a wide smile. “What are you doing locked up in here all alone? It’s not good for a boy your age. Come, let’s go do something together!”
Originally, in the world where he doesn't yet know what’s coming, Mobei Jun was probably happy to receive such attention. But, given that this was the Mobei Jun from the future, Shang Qinghua could see that he’d gone stock-still, a murderous light glinting in his eyes. Linguang Jun let go, seemed to notice something was wrong. Mobei Jun took a step back.
And aimed a kick at his uncle’s shin.
This was their cue to run!
Shang Qinghua darted forward to grasp one of Mobei Jun’s hands in his own and pulled him out the door while Linguang Jun cursed behind them. Although he followed without complaint- a miracle!- Mobei Jun squeezed Shang Qinghua’s hand tight, almost tight enough to make it numb.
I know you’re angry at me for dragging you away, but there’s no need to break my hand! I might have saved your life just now!!
“Not trying to break it,” Mobei Jun muttered as they sprinted.
Crap! Shang Qinghua really needed to stop saying things out loud! He decided to leave the conversation there, instead trying to map out exactly where he planned on taking them. Running had been a spur of the moment thing, motivated entirely by his sudden panic that a tiny Mobei Jun probably wouldn't last long in a fight, so it wasn't as if he had a plan. Anywhere they went, Linguang Jun was sure to follow, and probably faster! This would be a great time to have a good idea!
“Ack!”
A tug in another direction caused Shang Qinghua to stumble and let out a less-than-dignified noise. His first thought was that Linguang Jun had caught up to them and started dragging Mobei Jun away, but when he finally allowed himself to look at what had happened, he saw that Mobei Jun himself had chosen to change course. He also didn't allow any time for Shang Qinghua to recover, pulling him mercilessly into a dead end as his much shorter than usual legs struggled to keep up.
“What are we doing here, my king!?” Shang Qinghua panted as they practically screeched to a stop.
Mobei Jun was staring at the wall in front of them, stricken. His grip tightened on Shang Qinghua’s once more, and the latter let out a slight whimper, at which the former loosened it again. He turned to look directly at Shang Qinghua. “Promise me you won’t let go.”
Um.
What is this romantic drama nonsense!?
Nonetheless, Shang Qinghua nodded quickly, eager to move on with whatever plan that he had concocted.
“Promise!” Mobei Jun ordered. Coming from his chubby-cheeked, cute little face, the rough, frustrated command lost most of the power that it would have had otherwise. It wasn’t scary in the slightest, and being forced into something so silly now that he'd gained some confidence in their relationship irked Shang Qinghua to no end, but… at the same time, hearing that level of desperation in a youthful, high-pitched voice and seeing something almost vulnerable in Mobei Jun’s expression made his heart melt.
“I promise,” Shang Qinghua said as solemnly as such a small child possibly could.
Mobei Jun made something akin to a smile before running straight at the wall, and Shang Qinghua blinked up at it right before they made contact, finally realizing what had happened.
When the pair arrived on the other side of the wall, Shang Qinghua noticed one thing immediately: he was no longer the height of a gremlin. The second thing he noticed less immediately, and this was that Mobei Jun, too, was back at his normal stature and in his normal state, black robes, free-flowing hair and all. The third thing, that he noticed right after the second, and which almost made him laugh, was that this made the other look very out of place against his father’s modern house.
Speaking of, the door to his father’s bedroom creaked open to reveal the man himself, older now- he’d earned a few laugh lines over the years- and healthier, it seemed. There were no more bags under his eyes, at least, and he’d gained a little more weight. When he asked what Shang Qinghua- now just plain Airplane- was doing in his room, his tone wasn’t angry or accusatory. It wasn’t even neutral, more like the voice one would use with a guest who’s accidentally wandered into a place they didn’t know they weren’t supposed to be.
“Sorry, I- uh- got nostalgic.” Airplane answered awkwardly.
“Yeah, it’s sure been a while since you’ve been in here.” His father said. “Thank you for coming over by the way. It’s good to see you now and again.”
“You all too. Sorry I’ve been so busy with school.”
“No, it’s a good thing. It means you’re working hard.” Almost as an afterthought, but with genuine interest, he asked, “How is writing going? You still doing it?”
Airplane nodded, shifting his eyes to a point somewhere to the left of his father to avoid looking him in the face while affirming it. Financial successes aside, if his father ever actually ended up reading what he’s been living off of, he’d never be able to show his face at the house again.
Not that he really planned on it, he laughed inwardly. None of this was real, right? Even if it was, he wasn't ever coming back, right? It didn’t matter what he said or did, right? It didn’t matter if he explained the entirety of his stallion novel to his father, because it wouldn’t actually have any consequences, right?
Despite that, he still couldn’t bring himself to say anything further, clearing his throat slightly instead. His father nodded as well, and the smile he wore was only slightly forced. “That’s good.”
Nothing was really wrong with their relationship, Airplane thought. It was just awkward. They didn't know each other anymore, couldn't talk to each other about anything deeper than the usual small talk, weren't sure how. He didn't feel neglected or anything, and he knew that their lack of interaction was partly his fault, but still, he just didn't feel comfortable hanging around anymore. He felt like an afterthought, a reminder of a worse time, but one that everyone felt obligated to love nonetheless. But his family did love him, and he loved them. The only problem was that sometimes that didn't make him feel any better.
“I should probably head home,” he said with a smile. “It’s getting kind of late.”
As they started to leave the room together, Airplane felt a slight tug on his arm that forced him to stay in place and remembered that Mobei Jun was here as well, hand still holding his. He looked at the demon lord standing in the middle of his father’s bedroom and had to suppress laughter once again. Really, what a combination!
“Let’s talk outside,” he said quietly, and Mobei Jun nodded his consent, finally allowing them to leave. Airplane said his goodbyes to his family quickly, promising to visit again before the next holiday and ruffling his half-sister’s hair (to her horror, though she laughed as soon as she moved it back into place). It was warm, actually, and fun. He vaguely remembered this day now; they’d invited him over out of the blue, and he’d stayed for far longer than he was used to. If this was the last time that he would ever be able to see them, then he was glad it was this visit in particular. As Airplane closed the door behind him, the smile on his face was genuine.
Immediately upon stepping into the street, Mobei Jun turned to face Airplane. “Explain.” Then, realizing upon taking in the environment around him that there were some answers that he wanted faster than others, he continued, “Where are we?”
“Um, somewhere very far away?” Technically?
“You are… from here?”
“Uh, yes.”
“How?” Implication: You’re older now than when we first met, how could this be before!? Why the hell do you look so different (and ugly apparently, Airplane thought sourly)!?
“This is…” A disaster? There wasn't a good way to answer that! Everything would just sound phony, especially the truth! Not to mention, he wasn't exactly keen on telling his best friend (sorry, Cucumber bro) that he had created him and his entire life; that might put a damper on their relationship. Besides, he’d decided to leave this whole life behind him anyways, so to have it brought up again like this was frustrating.
Wait a minute.
“This is… a past life!” Not a lie! Just not the truth either! Close enough so that he doesn't feel bad!
“A past life?” Mobei Jun repeated, obviously disbelieving.
Airplane laughed nervously. “Yes, a past life! I’ve… always been able to remember it. This is still me.”
Even with this answer, Mobei Jun still did not appear to be entirely satisfied, but he didn't push any further, looking around them at the surely-strange buildings and pavement. He tapped the ground beneath them a few times with one foot. “It is very different here.”
Relieved that Mobei Jun didn’t seem to be angry at his flimsy explanation, Airplane let out a breath that he hadn’t even known he was holding. “Yes, very different! But very nice!”
“You would stay, if given the opportunity?”
Airplane blinked in confusion. What a stupid question!! Of course not! Whatever this weird*ss illusion was that they kept somehow changing, it probably wasn’t safe to stay in very long, even if it had real-world comforts! He tried to read Mobei Jun’s expression for some hint as to why he would suggest such a thing, but it was neutral, impassive, unhelpful. He was beginning to formulate a response when a car rolled past, and Mobei Jun pushed Airplane behind his back and stood as a barrier between him and the rest of the street, form tense and alert. Despite this, he was still holding Airplane’s hand very tightly, which made his arm rather uncomfortable.
“It’s fine, my king! It’s not dangerous!” Airplane insisted, putting his free hand on Mobei Jun’s shoulder. “It’s gone now, anyways! It’s probably best that we move on and find the next portal out of here.”
Under his hand, Mobei Jun seemed to tense up even more. Even so, he nodded and motioned for Airplane to lead the way, an action that caused him to waver. “My king?”
“You know the area,” Mobei Jun said. “I do not.”
Airplane searched Mobei Jun’s face once more, and to his surprise, found that he seemed to be in a good mood. Smiling himself, Airplane began to walk in the direction of his apartment. Since each scene so far had been somewhere that was significant to one of them or the other, it was highly possible that the next exit was over there. He walked with purpose, desperate to end their possibly dangerous predicament, but did take in the sights one last time.
He’d probably never see pavement again! Goodbye, modern buildings! It was nice knowing you, power lines! Take care, bicycles!
While being confronted with everything that he had left behind hurt some small amount, getting an opportunity for closure was also freeing in a way. His steps felt very light all of a sudden, and he found himself pointing out the places that he used to frequent to Mobei Jun without really thinking about it. Equally unexpected, Mobei Jun didn’t seem to mind the flood of information, nodding along to his words and even asking questions at times. Thusly encouraged, Airplane chattered on even more.
“That’s where I got my hair cut,” he said, pointing out the small but well-kept building. “One time, when I was a kid, they cut it too short and I cried!”
“It’s very short right now,” Mobei Jun pointed out, and all of a sudden, he pulled the both of them to a stop to card his fingers through it. Then, to drive the point home, apparently, he repeated, “Very short.”
“I used to prefer it like this.”
“Hm.” Appearing to consider this point of view, he ran his fingers through Airplane’s hair again, and Airplane felt his face heat up for some reason that must have been completely unrelated. Mobei Jun didn’t drop his hand this time, continuing to feel the other’s hair between his fingers before resting his hand on his cheek. Given how hot he was suddenly feeling, Airplane appreciated the cooling effect of the fingers on his skin. “I’m not used to it.”
“Apologies, my king.”
“It’s different.”
“Yes, my king.”
“You are different.”
“Ah-… yeah.”
This time Mobei Jun didn’t reply with anything, simply staring into Airplane’s face and rubbing his thumb over his cheek, lips parted slightly. His eyes were narrowed and brows furrowed. This intense focus on his features reminded Airplane of their conversation earlier, of Mobei Jun commanding him to change his face back into Shang Qinghua’s, and he felt, all at once, somewhat sour.
He looked at the ground between them. “We should-“
An all-too familiar name passed Mobei Jun’s lips.
If it were possible for a human to embody the spirit of the colored stripes on an old television set, then Airplane was achieving it.
What the f**********ck!!!!!!!
Let’s not!! Let’s not do this!!!
“What?” Airplane said instead of either of those things.
“They called you that.” Mobei Jun answered. “Do you prefer it?”
Yes! No! Maybe! I don’t know!!
When Mobei Jun appeared confused beyond belief, Airplane clamped a hand over his mouth in mortification.
Stop! Saying!! Things!!! Out!!!! Loud!!!!!
A corner of Mobei Jun’s mouth quirked up before falling back into his usual expression. Airplane’s face was aflame once again, and probably in the wake of what was as close to a smile as Mobei Jun could get, he felt that same courage from before, when he was bickering with him in the mirror. He swallowed hard and said, “Mobei Jun.”
The one concerned stretched his eyes wide, and all of Airplane’s courage dissipated at once. “I am very sorry! I am so very sorry, great king, it won’t happen again!”
Taken aback, it appeared, by the sudden outburst, Mobei Jun pulled his hand away from Airplane’s face. A residual fear from their previous years together caused him to flinch, waiting to be hit, but just as had happened after the meeting with Luo Binghe (wherein he had given the protag fantastic dating advice, thank you very much), he was met only with a gentle pat on top of his head.
“It’s fine,” Mobei Jun said. Then, quieter, “Call me what you want.”
Ahahahahahahaha. Airplane thought he might be broken. This day was really getting to be too much, you know? Ahahahahahahahahahahahaha.
Unable to reply with anything at all intelligent, Airplane simply took a few shaky steps backwards before continuing to lead Mobei Jun through the streets. Regardless of permission, he really couldn’t do it again! That would be too far! It was a momentary lapse in judgement!
Nevermind that it also felt kind of good to say. He’d obviously blown a fuse. It really wouldn’t ever happen again.
His apartment wasn’t far by now, the building standing tall in the evening sun. As they approached, it pulled at his heartstrings. Ah, yes. Here was his home, his base of operations, his sanctuary from the outside world- honestly, seeing it after so long made him tear up a little. He stood in front of it with watery eyes and his free hand clutching at his heart, and Mobei Jun looked it over with a complicated expression.
“Where are we?”
Airplane fought back the urge to say something cheesy like ‘my kingdom’ or ‘the promised land,’ instead answering truthfully with “My home.”
“This is yours?”
Well this was embarrassing. “Um. Only part of it, my king.”
Even though it was small, cramped, and full of junk that should have either been thrown away or organized, Mobei Jun didn’t make any negative comments on Airplane’s space once they entered. Instead, he explored every nook and cranny of the apartment with Airplane trailing behind him (not that he had a choice, because they were still joined at the hands). As they did so, the pair looked into every slightly reflective object for their next exit, but everything they found showed only their own faces.
Despite his earlier desperation to leave as soon as possible, Airplane found himself somewhat relieved that they couldn’t yet go back to the world they’d been living in. He didn’t want to stay here forever, not by a long shot, but showing Mobei Jun around the places that were important to him and explaining future things that a book character wouldn’t understand was proving itself to be entertaining. Actually being able to share things about himself also lifted a weight off of his chest. The parts of himself that Mobei Jun knew about him as Shang Qinghua weren’t false, per se, but they were still only half of a bigger picture.
Even with the looming danger of whatever had done this to them hanging over everything, this time together was making him pretty happy.
“My king, my king! I don’t think we’re going to find anything right now, so let’s take a break!” Airplane started to pull them in the direction of the couch, aware too late that he might have sounded a little too enthusiastic.
Mobei Jun allowed him to do so, but as soon as they were seated (after pressing into the cushion with his free hand a few times), he snapped, “I thought we were leaving.”
“We are leaving! It’s just- this day has been stressful for both of us, and the search will go much better with fresh, rested eyes, don’t you think?”
“Your eyes still work. We can rest at home.”
“I would like to rest now.”
A frustrated growling sound erupted from the back of Mobei Jun’s throat, but he remained seated. Airplane briefly considered turning on the television to break the tension but decided against it. Mobei Jun would probably just break it out of shock. He snuck a glance at his ‘guest’ out of the corner of his eye, only to see that he still appeared massively pissed off.
“Do you truly not like it here?” Airplane asked, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.
“...It’s fine,” Mobei Jun answered after a moment. His voice was restrained. “You prefer it here.”
Before he could stop himself, Airplane frowned and said, “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Don’t lie!” Mobei Jun countered. “You said we should look, then you said we should stop! You don’t want to leave!”
“I’m not lying!” Airplane worked to keep his voice from getting louder, knowing that he’d regret it later if he shouted. This kind of argument felt very familiar, but he was getting too angry to realize the irony of it. “I do want to leave! Soon! Just not right now!”
“Why not!?”
“I just don’t!” His self-restraint fell away without much of a fight, and Airplane began to raise his voice, all of the frustrations of the day coming out at once. “I realize you don’t like the world I come from, and you don’t like the way I look here, but at the very least you could deal with it for a little bit! You want to be comfortable at home where you know how everything works, but adjusting was hard for me too! And you want me to look the way I always have, but this is my real face! Take it or leave it!”
“That’s not it!” Mobei Jun shouted, but this time his expression wasn’t angry; it was just as difficult to read as it normally was, but this time something about it hinted at concern.
“Then what is it!?”
Stopping to control his breathing, Mobei Jun gritted his teeth. When he responded, his voice was low and unusually somber. “This is where you wanted to go.”
“...Huh?”
“When you were trying to leave, this is where you wanted to go.”
“...What? No. I, um, told you it was a past life! That would be ridiculous!”
“I said don’t lie!” Although his tone became irked once more, Mobei Jun calmed down quickly and looked away from Airplane with a frown. “I don’t know how, and I don’t care. But you were coming here.”
A wave of discomfort rolled over the both of them, and Airplane busied himself with pulling a loose string out of one of the couch cushions. “Yes. I was planning on returning here, my king.”
“You like it here.”
“It has many benefits.”
“You want to stay.”
“No. I don’t.” Saying it this time was easy and true. For a moment he thought about confessing that he wanted to spend time here together, still wants to, just for a little bit, but uh. No. Still way too cheesy.
They sat in silence after that, Airplane opening his mouth on several occasions to provide idle chatter only to find that he couldn’t make any noise. On the other hand, Mobei Jun looked to have been placated by this final renunciation of the ‘real’ world, but he continued to avoid eye contact with the man next to him at any cost for what could have easily been an incense-stick (and having thought that, Airplane wondered when that became his default way to think of passing time).
Surprisingly, Mobei Jun was the first to break the silence. “Take it.”
Airplane looked over at Mobei Jun’s free hand, expecting him to be holding something, but there was nothing there. “Uh, take what, my king?”
“Take it.” Mobei Jun appeared to consider something for a moment before reaching over to poke Airplane’s cheek, his own slightly pinker than usual. “You said, ‘take it or leave it.’ Take it.”
Oh.
OOOOOOOOOOOOHHH!!
Without meaning to, Airplane felt himself tearing up again. This time, however, the tears spilled over for real, and he let out a long and garbled, “My kiiiiiiing!!”
Since he’d already done so much to Mobei Jun that didn’t get him killed today, he threw caution to the wind and threw his arms around Mobei Jun’s neck. “You’re so kind! So benevolent! Thank you!”
I was feeling very insecure just now!!
That thought did manage to stay inside his head, thankfully.
Though it took him a second to relax, Mobei Jun did eventually return the hug, reverting back to his action from earlier and patting Airplane’s back gently.
“You let go,” he stated, simply a fact, no negative emotion behind it.
“Only to hold you better!” Airplane sniffled before realizing what he had said.
Now he was the one spouting stupid RomCom lines! He’d spent too long as a book character; he was infected, never to be taken seriously again. Maybe that’s not too bad, though, if it means that they get more moments like this.
Holy sh*t! What are they going to do if they can’t find the exit!?
The longer that the two of them waited to find their way out, the bigger the chance of them running into the thing that put them here! And if it could do all of this, there was a possibility it was powerful enough to be a match even for Mobei Jun! The thought of that was terrifying, and Airplane unconsciously found himself squeezing him tighter. They’d already searched so much, and the next portal was nowhere to be found! What if there wasn’t one? What if they had already made it too far into the trap to get out? What if it did fight Mobei Jun, what if it actually hurt him, what if-
“Shang Qinghua,” Mobei Jun called suddenly.
“Yes, my king?”
“It appears it is time to go.”
Running through his apartment window had been nothing short of terrifying, but Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky had never been happier to do something stupid and dangerous. Even jumping directly into the circle of fire that he’d created to protect himself and Mobei Jun from Linguang Jun could do nothing to sour his mood! Not even finding himself back in the body of Shang Qinghua!
“Ah. Hm. We’re closer to home now, at least!” He said brightly. Not too far off, not too far off! Maybe the key was just following the portals back to the present? Was that it?
Mobei Jun reached out to make sure that Shang Qinghua was steady after their landing, and when their eyes met both sides of his mouth lifted slightly for a brief moment. God!! He was practically beaming! Shang Qinghua cried tears of joy in his heart. What a day!
Predictably, in the next moment there was a terrible cracking noise as the room around them began to shake. Linguang Jun was again prepared to bring down the entire building to get to Mobei Jun. Still, this time would be much easier, Shang Qinghua thought! Where previously Mobei Jun was injured and hadn’t yet absorbed all of his father’s power, now he was fit as a fiddle and most definitely had! Defeating Linguang Jun would be a piece of cake!
He thought, but actually taking in Mobei Jun’s appearance, he realized that things would not be that simple. He was barely standing himself, face bloodied and robes askew, the only difference from their original experience in this fight being that he appeared not to mind in the slightest. Concerned, Shang Qinghua helped guide Mobei Jun’s fall to the ground, kneeling in front him, both hands holding on to either of his arms as the other attempted in vain to stand once more.
Hey, if they died in here, what would that do, exactly!?
“Stay here, please!” Shang Qinghua told him in a panic.
Mobei Jun’s eyes flashed. “You stay here.”
“We’ll do it just like last time! It’ll be easy!” You know, hopefully. Shang Qinghua honestly hoped that the invisibility from his previous experience in Mobei Jun’s past would continue, but with his luck, he assumed, he would have to endure this beating all over again. That would be just fine by him, however, if it meant that both of them would be getting out of this alive. “Give yourself a minute to absorb more power before bluffing, my king. I don’t think it would be very convincing right now.”
“Stay. Here.” The face Mobei Jun was making was about as terrifying as running through the window, yet not terrifying as the thought of being crushed by debris, and definitely not enough to change Shang Qinghua’s mind.
“It’s nothing I haven’t experienced before,” Shang Qinghua said, and he realized that he was still smiling despite how much he really didn’t want to do this again. He nodded emphatically a few times to try and convince Mobei Jun how okay he was (not) with a repeat of last time, which was met only with him reaching out to grab Shang Qinghua by the collar and clutching it with a vice-like grip, preventing him from going anywhere. A chunk of the ceiling crashed into the ground next to them and hit both with flying shards on impact.
Forgive me!
He hadn’t ever planned on doing this again, but there was no choice! Please don’t take this the wrong way!
Out of options, Shang Qinghua threw out an arm and pinched Mobei Jun’s cheek hard; when it didn’t achieve the intended result, he also twisted, quick and forceful, until his captor was forced to release him unintentionally. During that brief window of freedom, Shang Qinghua scrambled backwards and out of reach. “I’m sorry! Really sorry!”
He prepared to stand up and leap through the flames while Mobei Jun cursed, but before he could even make it to his feet, Shang Qinghua experienced a most peculiar feeling- almost like the floor had disappeared from beneath him. This thought was disproven a fraction of a second later, when both Shang Qinghua and Mobei Jun did find themselves falling through what should have been solid ground.
It wasn’t like the floor had fallen away, it really did! A portal had opened up directly underneath them! And, uh, this one was kind of faulty!
As they fell, Shang Qinghua tried to find wherever it was that they were being sent next, but with no luck, as the space around them was completely dark. The only thing that he could see with clarity was Mobei Jun who was falling beside him. When they tried to speak, however, neither could seem to hear the other over the loud, anguished screeching noise that permeated the entirety of wherever-the-f*ck they were. If this was where they were going to be stuck for the rest of eternity, then Shang Qinghua wished that they had been left to deal with Linguang Jun! That would have been preferable! He screwed his eyes shut and tried to keep from screaming or making some other such pitiful noise, holding both of his hands over his ears and bracing for possible impact, entire body tense, when suddenly he felt a stinging sensation on the top of his head.
Blinking his eyes open, Shang Qinghua’s first assumption was that the portal had finally dropped them in another past event, but once his mind cleared he suddenly remembered exactly where they had been the whole time.
“Are you alright?”
Shen Qingqiu stood above him, looking down curiously with his folding fan at the ready.
Ah, so that must have been what hit him on the head.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, bro.” Shang Qinghua pushed himself onto his hands and knees and shook himself to try and get rid of the pounding headache that was beginning to make itself known before looking down to see that Mobei Jun was also stirring into wakefulness beneath him. Not wanting to experience the same entrapment as before, he rolled off as quickly as possible and watched from the side as the other man sat up.
Looking around, Shang Qinghua noticed that they were in a bright cave. Very little light actually entered- a small hole in the ceiling let in one small beam of sunlight that reflected off of the hundreds of crystals that glittered within the stone walls, a myriad of colors and shapes. In the middle was a large metal contraption that resembled a tuning fork with one of the prongs sliced off, and impaled upon it was a small monster with a broken sword still held tightly in its dead fingers. Luo Binghe was examining it with mild interest, but mostly his expression looked bored. He must have killed it just before the other two woke up.
By now Mobei Jun had managed to sit up all the way and take in their surroundings as well. Relieved, Shang Qinghua restrained himself from hugging him and crying again. “My king, do you remember where we a-”
Once he heard his servant’s voice, Mobei Jun’s head swiveled to look at him, appearing to have noticed that he was there only at that moment, and Shang Qinghua found himself once again being grasped by the collar.
Okay, fair enough! He pinched Mobei Jun a second time, and for that he was most definitely going to pay the consequences! Not being beaten up was fun while it lasted!
Please just remember that it was with the best of intentions, and maybe go easy on me!
He closed his eyes again and waited for the first hit, only to open them again in shock when what he felt instead was a pair of lips over his own. Surprise caused him to lurch backwards, out of the kiss, and blink stupidly into space. Mobei Jun’s forehead came to rest softly against his chin, the hand not tangled in Shang Qinghua’s robes curled into a fist on the floor, and once his brain stopped screaming DOES NOT COMPUTE, the latter let out a deep breath and gave Mobei Jun’s slightly shaking shoulder a soft pat.
...Why the f*ck did he give him a pat!?
What kind of dumb reaction was that!?
He deducted five thousand points from himself! That was terrible! Every god in the heavens was laughing at him, he was sure!
On the verge of short-circuiting again, Shang Qinghua said much too loudly, “Mobei Jun!!”
With a start, Mobei Jun lifted his face once more, and before he could think any better of it Shang Qinghua returned the favor. He’d never actually kissed anybody before, and he sincerely doubted that Mobei Jun had either, so both of their movements were awkward and unsure. They knocked teeth at one point, and Shang Qinghua thought he was going to choke on Mobei Jun’s tongue for a second, but for the moment he didn’t care much. They could always improve!
When Mobei Jun moved to trailing kisses along Shang Qinghua’s neck, the sound of Shen Qingqiu clearing his throat forced them both to remember where they were. Mobei Jun shot an annoyed look at the culprit for a fraction of a second before noticing Luo Binghe watching them closely with narrowed eyes.
“Do you-” Shang Qinghua attempted to ask again before cringing at the crack in his voice and starting over. “Do you, ah, remember where we are, my king?”
“Mm,” he replied and rose to his feet. A moment later, he held out a hand to help up Shang Qinghua, who babbled a string of half-thought-out excuses as to why he couldn’t take it before shooting up into a standing position himself.
To the side, Shen Qingqiu had let his fan fall open and was currently fanning himself with it lazily while raising his eyebrows at Shang Qinghua, otherwise looking unaffected by the scene. “Well, it appears the monster had been utilizing this artifact to entrap his victims. It is an old and obscure one, but if I am remembering correctly, then its capabilities are to force those who hear its reverberations to fall into a deep sleep wherein the affected parties trap themselves in pleasant dreams of their own creation. They become so involved in the worlds made of their happy memories that they may never reawaken. This is what has allowed such a low-leveled monster to terrorize travelers in the area to the extent it did. He most likely ate them in their sleep.”
Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe had indeed come to the ice palace to discuss something to that effect. While out buying rare ingredients in a relatively small village, the vendors had complained of something dangerous in the woods that caused anyone who dared venture too far to disappear. That meant that the specific ingredient that they had been searching for was currently out of stock; unless they were willing to enter the cave system in the heart of the forest to search for it themselves, they were out of luck. Even with Luo Binghe’s power, Shen Qingqiu refused to go with only the two of them, apparently giving the excuse that bringing along an assassin would be useful for a job where the enemy was unknown. However, when they arrived, he immediately pulled Shang Qinghua to the side and grilled him on whatever it could be that was causing disappearances. In the moment he couldn’t actually think of anything that he’d written that would be making such a ruckus in that particular area, but after getting a good look at it, both were now fully aware of what it was.
It was totally to just to write out more of Luo Binghe's sexual escapades! How long had it been since he originally wrote it into the story? He’d completely forgotten it!
In any case, as soon as they’d entered this particular part of the cave, the monster had come in behind them and hit the tuning fork with his sword. The rest is history, except for how Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe managed to wake themselves without destroying the artifact first (though Shang Qinghua thanks his lucky stars that they did). Anyways, the bigger question here was this: how were those happy memories!? His were pleasant enough at times, but Mobei Jun’s were more than a little scary!
“I see,” Mobei Jun replied, and Shang Qinghua choked. “Why did ours intersect?”
At this, Shen Qingqiu fanned himself slightly faster, glancing briefly at Luo Binghe. “Physical touch?”
True, Shang Qinghua had fallen on top of Mobei Jun when they were knocked out. He was also pretty sure that Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe had been holding hands, so that probably meant that they went through something similar?
After another moment of quiet consideration, Shen Qingqiu spoke again, though this time it sounded almost like he was speaking to himself. “Fear may also play a factor in creating exits, but…”
Luo Binghe strolled over to where the other three were standing at the lull in conversation, gently taking hold of one of Shen Qingqiu’s hands in both of his. His smile harnessed the power of the sun. “Shizun! The monster is dead, the artifact is destroyed, and we woke them up, so let’s get the herbs and go home. I want to make dinner for you before it gets too late.”
“Alright, alright, calm down, Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu snapped his fan closed and entangled his fingers in Luo Binghe’s, nodding to both Shang Qinghua and Mobei Jun in turn. “Thank you for the assistance.”
“Yes, we’ll go alone from here.” Luo Binghe didn’t pay them much attention, instead beginning to gently lead Shen Qingqiu back into the tunnels and deeper into the cave.
In their absence, the events of the day finally caught of to Shang Qinghua, and he couldn’t help but to bury his face in his hands. What did he do!? What was he supposed to do now!? How was he ever supposed to look at Mobei Jun ever again!? Oh gods, never being able to look at him again would be awful considering how unfairly handsome he was! In his next book he’s making every character ugly so that this isn’t a problem!
He stood like that for a long time, trying to get his thoughts together, and Mobei Jun stood patiently next to him for most of it, but eventually he did take Shang Qinghua gently by the wrist and pull his hands away. When he was greeted with a nervous smile, Mobei Jun’s eyes crinkled slightly. Shang Qinghua’s original name was said once again, with a gentle fondness that made his heart skip a beat, followed by, “Let’s go home.”
“Um, Shang Qinghua is fine, my king,” he managed to make himself reply. “That’s me too.”
(Alternate end?:)
“I’ll make ramen.”
“I want congee this time.”
“...”
“And a massage.”
“...Fine.”