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Hangzhou brings back memories, not particularly pleasant ones. He still feels the lingering chill of obsession when he passes the high-rise that previously belonged to Jiashi, and he remembers burning like hot iron, spending half a year in fever and coming to Lunhui scarred and fragmented.
His cyberware glows gold, fitted over the white scars, and he’s almost tempted to visit the scrapyard across the street— funny how they couldn’t hunt down Ye Xiu even though he went into hiding a block away. Though perhaps not all Megacorps are like Lunhui, who rent out their fighters like hitmen in the off-season, and perhaps the old Jiashi cared less about what Ye Xiu would do. (Maybe they thought that with One Autumn Leaf cut out of his body, he’d be flawed, untouchable, and they were fatally wrong)
But it doesn’t matter now. The scrapyard is filled with common punks, Team Happy hangs out in some separate building, and he might as well be wearing a gigantic sign that says “I’m famous. Mug me” if he continues out in the open like this.
He pulls his hood over his face, hoping that its dark color could obscure the nodes shining under his ear, and he tugs his sleeves over his hands as the sun fades out over the horizon, burning out the last of the day.
In the dead of December two years ago, Ye Xiu gripped his shoulder in a choke hold, and Sun Xiang thought he was hearing the ramblings of a bitter, broken madman. A year after, Jiashi fell apart, and he almost did, too.
This year, Ye Xiu returned wearing the magnum opus of a dead man— a transforming umbrella, a team decked out in red (another shade of red?!) cyberware— and Sun Xiang could care less about how he snatched away Samsara’s championship, because honestly, he was worthy of it.
One year ago Qiu Fei told him he wanted to raise Jiashi from the ashes, and this year he led a team through the Challenger League. He’ll be joining the rest of them in the Alliance soon.
And it wasn’t really like Sun Xiang wanted to congratulate him personally, even though Lunhui limited contact between non-Alliance members— okay, maybe that’s a part of it, but it’s been a year since he’s seen his disinherited prince in the flesh. He misses him, maybe just a little, though he’d die before admitting it.
And really, this visit would be so much easier if he knew where the fuck he is .
He barely dodges the rain when he slips into Xingxin’s headquarters, and he makes a mental note to borrow an umbrella when he leaves. Security looks seconds away from gutting him and throwing him out, but when he takes off his hood, his golden cyberware puts them somewhat at ease.
Ironic how they could be so dangerous in the arena, but outside of it, it’s like they’re puppets after the show.
He calls for Ye Xiu— he really wished he didn’t have to do it in such a roundabout way, but if anyone knew where Qiu Fei lurked, it had to be the man’s former mentor.
The god looks healthier, with a little color in his cheeks (or maybe that was the wires glowing under his skin), and his eyes are still fish-dead. If he was surprised to see Sun Xiang, he was pretty damn good at his poker face.
“Can we talk?”
Ye Xiu raises an eyebrow. “Won’t you say coming all the way here is a bit too much?” Unless—
“I’m not looking for you, you fucking geezer. I’m looking for him .”
“Him?”
If his circulatory system wasn’t controlled by a microchip, Sun Xiang would’ve blushed. He still makes a face of embarrassment, though. “You know. Supposed to have One Autumn Leaf back in the day.” Before everything went to the dogs on Ye Xiu’s end. Maybe Sun Xiang’s, too, but the dogs came slower.
Ye Xiu’s eyes light up, and then darken. He nods carefully. “Can you turn off your cyberware?”
“I’d prolly die if I did.”
“Well, does Lunhui record your actions?”
“I damn well hope not.”
He sighs. “Forget it. There’s a jamming signal outside.”
“But it’s raining?”
Turns out the Myriad Manifestations Umbrella can actually work like… An umbrella. One of the smaller sorts of umbrella, sure, and it might be a little uncomfortable trying to avoid the rain with the panel on Ye Xiu’s forearm digging into your ribs, but sacrifices have been made.
“Xingxin is a little more lenient with us.” He starts, after half leading, half dragging Sun Xiang to a nearby alleyway. “The lady boss is new with this whole tech corporation thing, so it’s not like she tries to cage us in.” Like other businesses might.
“... So?”
“I still talk to Qiu Fei, sometimes. But I haven’t heard from him in a while— New Jiashi is controlled by the Cyberathletes themselves— strange, huh? They call it dangerous to give us that free rein.”
Why am I always out of the loop when it comes to this shit? “What’re you getting at?”
Ye Xiu shrugs. “I won’t be surprised if they send someone out to kill him in the next few months.” You know how they are. Don’t want clients to be influenced by such shocking newfangled ideas like DIY engineering .
Lunhui rents out their Cyberathletes as hitmen, in the off-season. Sun Xiang gets the creeping fear that next summer, he’ll be tracking down a certain someone in Hangzhou— that there’s going to be reports of some ‘mysterious death’ among the Alliance’s promising new debuts, and he’ll nod along in false ignorance while the blood refuses to wash from his hands—
You’re being too dramatic, the rational part of him says. “... Do you know where he is?”
“Check the east side, the old industrial park. Where the street punks like to brawl it out.”
Weird that Qiu Fei would be hanging out in one of the… Less refined parts of the city, especially considering how scrappers liked to roam there. But then again, if New JIashi is a startup— won’t it be easier to source materials from the scrappers themselves? Who knows.
Thankfully, Ye Xiu lends him an umbrella on his way out. Cyberware is designed to be water-resistant, it would be quite stupid if it wasn’t, but even so, it’s quite uncomfortable getting wet. The LEDs start flickering if you stay in the rain for too long.
A year of radio silence— the Alliance kept him occupied enough, but even so, he sets time aside to watch a few Challenger League matches, if only to see Qiu Fei in the holograms. Always the young general, like Atlas carrying a sky of hope.
He pulls his jacket tighter around himself, until the streets become so dark that aside from one of those old, flickering CFL lightbulbs, his cyberware provides the only source of light. And though it’d be like bringing a gun to a knife fight, he takes out Evil Annihilation, as it’s the only weapon he has on him.
The golden glow of his cyberware attracts unwanted attention, like a lamp attracting moths. Especially the golden color— one of Lunhui’s. What’s he doing here? Will someone die tonight?
On Sun Xiang’s end, he tries not to give it much thought. They’re peeking at him because they’re curious, because they’re waiting for him to put down his weapon, so they can cut out his wires for scrap metal--or something.
But he won’t get anywhere wandering the streets. If the Megacorps consider Qiu Fei such a villain, if they hate him for climbing back to Glory, if he wasn’t a fucking idiot like Sun Xiang was once upon a time, he wouldn’t be out in the open. He’d imagine he’d become like one of those mob bosses in old photographic films, the whole east side under his thumb.
Finally, he gets some courage to ask one of the eyes peeking from behind a corner. “Hey!” A flash, and the sound of retreating footsteps. “Wait! Do you know Qiu Fei?”
They stop, but they don’t approach him. “What’s it to you?”
“... I haven’t seen him in a year.” I miss him. I want to know if he still remembers me as an usurping king, as one of two twin Battle Mages.
“... Put away your spear.” He does, watching the glow fade and the body retract into itself, and straps it back on his leg.
“... Do you know him?” Sun Xiang rounds the corner to find a figure in a white mask, one of those that scramble the recognition cameras. Or at least, it messes with his. He tries to ignore the blinking yellow light in the edge of his gaze.
They don’t seem very willing to tell. “I know it’s never good news when you golden guys come around. Prime killing season for you, since you’re not in the ring, huh?”
“... It’s not like that.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“Looking for him— I mean, not to kill.” He hopes Lunhui doesn’t do anything funny. “To talk.”
“Talk?”
What else? To confess?! “... We, uh… Used to be close.”
“... Follow me.”
One year ago, before they separated, Qiu Fei told him there was a donor willing to bring Jiashi from the ashes.
If there was a donor, Sun Xian mused, it looked like nobody in New Jiashi seemed to care about using their money.
Or maybe they did— maybe they bought the rights to this ruined high-rise and decided it wasn’t worth it to renovate?
It didn’t even have a lift; he was willing to bet New Jiashi siphoned energy from the local power Corp. Not that he couldn’t climb stairs, but he wondered how Qiu Fei could handle it. He always thought of Qiu Fei as more delicate— kinda funny, he might’ve been shorter but he was far more sensible and had a stronger sense of self-preservation than Sun Xiang. No, it’s stupid to think he’s delicate, he’s seen him fight, he’s seen himself getting his ass kicked by Combat Form, but it still grates on him that Qiu Fei lives on the top floor of a ruined skyscraper. He deserves better.
“Hey, Captain. This dude was running around the streets, said he wanted to talk to you.”
“Hm,” Qiu Fei turns his head, and then freezes when he catches the golden glow of cyberware. “Thank you. You can go.”
Sun Xiang points at himself, slightly confused. “Me?” The masked figure, the one that led him here, made a beeline for the stairwell door. “Oh.” Nevermind.
A tense silence follows, Qiu Fei’s back facing Sun Xiang, like he was studying the lights of Hangzhou through the (grimy) windows. “What are you doing here?”
“... Looking for you.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Slowly, he approaches Qiu Fei, who still wouldn’t turn to look at him. “I talked to Ye Xiu earlier. Is it true— they’re after you?”
“Guess?”
He steps closer. “... Do you hate me?”
For a second, Qiu Fei’s voice catches, and he speaks in measured words. “Why would I?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I don’t.”
He’s tempted to just reach out, and take Qiu Fei’s hand— it glows a familiar scarlet. The cyberware has barely changed.
And then he turns— a little older, a new scar under his cheekbone, but still so achingly familiar. “You shouldn’t be here— why did you come visit me? Or—” Cruel fate? “Another one of your assignments?”
“No, no, it’s not like that, I wanted to see you again.”
He shakes his head. “It’s too dangerous for you here.”
“ You’re here.”
“That’s different. The scrappers trust me. They don’t trust you. And the Corps don’t trust me.”
“And that’s not my problem!” He grabs his hand. It’s warm, the fingers are strong like he remembers. “To hell if you’re the villain. It’s been a year, and all I’ve seen of you is the holograms. Just give me a moment— for us— pretend everything is fine. Pretend we’re celebrating your Challenger League win, or something. I can’t just fucking sit there when I have the time to go somewhere— somewhere in this city and I could find you, and ask—” He catches himself.
Qiu Fei traces his thumb over the implant surrounding Sun Xiang’s finger— like some kind of permanent ring. “If I still feel the same way you do?”
He sighs in defeat. “I shouldn’t be so terrified for you. I shouldn’t have to care — but I do. I can’t bear to think New Jiashi hiding here, like some king of the underground— in the ruins of a fucking office building — you deserve so much better.”
“Don’t worry about it, then. I’m fine where I am. And you’ll meet me in the arena next season, won’t you?”
“... I guess.” He shifts closer to Qiu Fei, and wraps his arms around him, his chin leaning on the man’s shoulder.
“When are you leaving?”
“When they yell at me to come back.” Silently, he hopes he can stay here, listening to Qiu Fei’s calm breaths. Perhaps to sleep, if not, to watch the sun rise on the east side of Hangzhou, through the grimy window, until the Alliance calls their return.