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Binghe held his breath. The light of the moon shone through the window, caressing Shizun’s face in a manner that Binghe wished he could imitate. It was all Binghe could do to keep his eyes closed to a sliver, wishing not to spook his Shizun away. 

Soft footsteps sounded as Shizun crept closer. They came to a halt only a foot away from Binghe’s head. 

Shizun exhaled shakily, and kneeled in front of Binghe. Through his eyelashes, Binghe could see his troubled expression. It looked almost as if -- but no, it couldn’t be -- Shizun was crying.

Shizun’s back bowed, and slowly, shaking all the while, he rested his forehead on the edge of Binghe’s mattress. His arms came up to embrace himself, a self-soothing behaviour that did not prevent Shizun from letting loose another breath that sounded like it hurt. 

Binghe wished oh-so-strongly that he could reach out and console his Shizun, but the hand-width between them might as well have been an infinite abyss.

“Child,” Shizun whispered hoarsely. “Child, you --” A stifled whimper tore from Shizun’s throat. His shoulders shook. Binghe knew that when Shizun left, the sheets where he had rested his head would be wet.

“I’m sorry,” Shizun continued inexplicably. What did he have to be sorry for? He had given Binghe everything. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m--” Shizun’s voice cut off after a hitched sob. His shoulders gave one last shudder before they too fell silent. 

They remained there, Shizun’s muscles pulled taut, Binghe’s eyes still nearly closed, for several long minutes. 

“Binghe, you…” the man then whispered, drawing himself up. “Binghe shouldn’t worry. This Master… I will take care of it for you.”

And how could Luo Binghe do anything but believe him?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

There were a great many weird things on Qing Jing, and one way or another, they always made their way to the library. 

Most notable in Proud Immortal Demon Way include an academic journal about the mating habits of Freckled Moon Hares (currently misfiled under erotica), an ancient charm that makes you more likely to forget to eat breakfast (gifted by wife #63 in an attempt to save Luo Binghe from her step-sister’s poisonous food), and a magical stone tablet that held copies of thousands of books (creatively named a t-reader. Shen Qingqiu had raged a lot over that last one).

There was more stuff there than just what the book had covered. Shen Qingqiu had thought he was going mad that time he found a dissertation on mutations in amphibious monsters that quoted some of his old comments, or that day he entered the library to the sight of what was unmistakably Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky’s handwriting scattered all over a scroll (recognised from that time he tried to sell signatures; only three out of the batch of a hundred were sold) (…two of which to Peerless Cucumber). 

“Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu froze. Though he knew he hadn’t been doing anything wrong, he couldn’t stop himself from edging between Binghe and the pile of scrolls he had been bowing over. He turned around. “Yes, Binghe?”

Binghe smiled at him, a small unconscious thing. It shone like the sun, of course. “What is Shizun doing?”

Shen Qingqiu laughed nervously. He opened his fan with a snap of the wrist. “It’s…” think fast! “… a surprise tool that will help us later.”

“Is that so?” Binghe stepped closer. “Then let this disciple aid--”

He rapped him on the head with his fan. “No getting ahead,” Shen Qingqiu scolded. “I’ll tell you when the time comes to use it. Not a moment before, alright?”

A selfish thought, perhaps. It really would be better if he just set his plan into motion now, damned be the people that would see Shen Qingqiu rip open a portal between universes. But that small, greedy thing inside of Shen Qingqiu couldn’t bear to let Luo Binghe leave a second before he absolutely needed to. 

That, and he didn’t even know if it would work! This method, described offhandedly in chapter 3871, had after all never been used. Perhaps it would fizzle out before it did what it was supposed to.

But if it worked! Oh, if it worked… 

(…)

“Shizun is trusting you with this, yes?” Shen Qingqiu asked while stacking piles of qiankun pouches into Binghe’s arms. He cast an anxious glance at the portal he had summoned; while its glow was steady, there was no telling how long it remained open. “This is a very long mission to a very special place, and Shizun doesn’t trust anyone else with this.”

“But the Immortal Alliance Conference is tomorrow!” Binghe protested, even as he rebalanced to keep the stacks from tipping over. Shen Qingqiu saw him gearing up to argue, and he didn’t know what expression he made at that, but it was enough for all the fight to leave Binghe’s body in one big breath. In a thin voice, he asked, “When am I coming back?”

“When it is safe again, okay, Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu ignored the flickering blue screen at the edge of his vision, fluttering uselessly around the portal. “It will be, eventually. But not now.”

“NO!” Binghe stepped forward, letting his arms fall to his side. Pouches scattered everywhere. “If it’s not safe, then Shizun shouldn’t be alone! I won’t--”

“Silly child,” Shen Qingqiu scolded, feeling strong fondness well up in his chest. “I won’t be alone. I have Liu-shidi, and Yue--”

“That’s not enough!”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you will be?”

The answer was yes, of course. As the Protagonist Binghe might be able to accomplish feats his far older peers were not capable of. But still!

Binghe set his jaw. “Even if I might prevent only the most minor of harm from coming to Shizun, I will consider my sacrifice worth it.”

I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself at all! Shen Qingqiu mentally screamed. 

And so he did the only logical thing here: he laid his hand to rest on Binghe’s shoulder, sighed in that specific way he always did when he gave in to Binghe’s requests, and when the boy relaxed, he pushed him through the portal. 

And so the System, panicking quite a great deal at the loss of its power source and very, very petty on top of that, did the only logical thing here: a small pebble appeared at just the right place for Shen Qingqiu to trip and stumble one-two steps forward, through the portal, right after the boy. 

Good fucking riddance, the System thought, and then promptly died. 

When Kakashi woke up that morning, he expected that the hardest thing he would have to do today was sit through hours of his students’ bickering.

Two hours later, standing in the middle of the woods behind the training field because he smelled something strange, staring at a tall stranger, he regretfully had to roll that statement back. 

For a brief moment -- barely more than a flicker of a second -- he had thought Orochimaru had made his way into Konoha. The illusion didn’t last long, broken by the genuine worry in the man’s eye as he hovered above his teenage companion, but even so it left Kakashi off balance. The resemblance really was uncanny; the same inhuman elegance, bolstered by beautiful features that were neither handsome nor pretty, yet somehow both. His spiritual energy was so strong it radiated off of him, though his physical energy lacked in comparison. 

Hidden behind the man’s sweeping, impractical robes and wide sleeves, kneeled an Uchiha. 

Because he must be an Uchiha, with his fine boned features and eyes that flickered between black and red. 

A bright red mark was painted on his forehead, blazing with pure, violent chakra. A cursed seal, perhaps? More signs of Orochimaru’s involvement, if it hadn’t already been clear from their whole everything. When the boy noticed Kakashi staring at it, he buried his face in the other man’s robes, hiding it from view. 

(…)

“My name is Shen Qingqiu,” the man said in an accent, over enunciating the words. “I am this boy’s sensei.”

“Shen-san,” Kakashi said cheerfully. “How nice to meet you. And the young man’s name?”

Shen Qingqiu shook his head. “Shen Qingqiu, full name. Don’t…” He mimed a cutting motion. “Don’t make parts of it like that? Sounds wrong.” He laid a hand on the younger man’s head, unconsciously digging into the curls. Attached. “This is Luo Binghe.”

Luo Binghe perked up at his name. “Shizun?” he asked. It’s not a word Kakashi recognized -- a entirely different language, or just a name? A title, maybe?

Shen Qingqiu turned to Luo Binghe. He said something in a soothing tone, confirming it as a language Kakashi doesn’t know. This was obviously strange -- Kakashi knew every single tongue spoken in the Elemental Countries. Perhaps this was not as great an achievement as he always thought it might be, though, going by the scope of the disconnect between this language and any Kakashi knows.

He turned back to Kakashi. “What do you want?”

“Maa, I don’t want trouble,” Kakashi said lazily. He shrugged. “I just thought you might like to come into the village proper. None of that lurking in the woods stuff.”

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes were sharp, far more intelligent than one might -- idiotically -- assume from his stunted speech. “And my student? I will not go away from him.”

“We won’t separate you,” Kakashi promised. That was technically not up to him to determine, but eh. The Hokage wouldn’t reprimand him for it in any way that matters.

“And Torture & Investigation?”

“As long as you do nothing to require a visit, you should be alright.” Kakashi’s eyes wrinkled. He knew, just as the other did, that it really wasn’t that simple, that Konoha would be distrustful and looking for the slightest mistake that could give them a reason to bring the two in. But let’s be real -- what could those two do? They’d be hunted if they ran, presumed spies. Being caught this close to the village does not speak well of them.

Shen Qingqiu stared at him for a silent minute. Kakashi carelessly tapped out a beat on his thigh, deliberately looking away from the duo. You are no threat to me, he wanted them to know. Whether it was true or not remained to be seen, but his reputation often did half the work for him long before weapons were drawn.

“Alright,” the man finally said. “Binghe,” he continued, saying something unintelligible. 

The younger man stood up, glaring balefully at Kakashi as he positioned himself to defend his sensei’s back. Kakashi gave him a sunny little wave. 

It is only when they were halfway to the Hokage’s tower that he realised he promised to meet with his cute little students two hours ago. 

Kakashi-sensei had been replaced by an imposter, Uchiha Sasuke was certain of it. 

It was a few minutes before the set meeting time for training, and sensei was already waiting for them. A little less surprising, but still remarkable, so was Naruto; rocking on his heels, and sneaking glances at sensei’s two companions. 

The taller of the two men had long, partly-loose black hair and thickly embroidered traditional robes, and right at his side --

Oh.

For a moment he thought it was one of his cousins; Shisui, perhaps, with those black curls and the traditional Uchiha features, delicate in a way you would call feminine on anyone other than his clan.

Only until he saw the young man’s broad shoulders, though, and his strange light green clothing so unlike anything his family wore. The boy caught his eye -- black eyes, achingly familiar, so dark the pupil blended with the iris -- and after a second looked away again, thoroughly disinterested in Sasuke. 

Something sour rose up in his chest, something violent and small and hurting. 

He choked his feelings back, like a good shinobi, and stepped forward to introduce himself. 

“Shen Qingqiu,” the taller man said in return, laying a hand on his chest. “And there is Luo Binghe. He is my student. We are… we have come here not long back. Quickly?”

“Recently,” Kakashi-sensei corrected, watching with his hands in his pocket. 

“Recently,” Shen Qingqiu said. “We will stay here… not eternal. But long. Indef--indi--”

“Indefinitely.”

Sasuke promptly decided that the day they would leave could not come soon enough. 

“Yes, that.” Shen Qingqiu smiled and placed a hand on Luo Binghe’s shoulder. The boy leaned into the touch with only barely hidden hunger. “Binghe does not speak your language at all; I do mostly. We thank you for your patience.”

He then turned to Naruto and said, “Go and help teach him your language? You have patience. You won’t need much, but it is good for this.” Behind his back, Kakashi met Naruto’s eyes and made a shooing motion. 

Sasuke didn’t know what the man was going on about. Naruto was the least patient person Sasuke knew. But Naruto bloomed at the words, taking Luo Binghe by the hand and dragging him away with a cheerful promise to help the boy thrown over his shoulder. Luo Binghe did not resist, only taking one final look at his sensei before he obediently followed.

A cold feeling crawled down Sasuke’s back. For one moment, it almost seemed like his eyes… they glinted red.

(…)

Naruto learned very quickly that the best way to teach Luo Binghe anything was to relate it back to his Shizun. 

“We call those green things leaves,” Naruto pointed up at the mass of green above them, the duo having settled next to a thick tree.

“Shizun can use leaves for knives,” Luo Binghe sighed. He perked up. “Word for… thing, makes wind if you go --” He flapped his hand.

“A fan?”

Naruto waited for confirmation before he realised Luo Binghe had no way of knowing if it was the right word or not. “It’s like, triangle-shaped, yeah?” He picked up a twig and traced an outline in the dirt.

Luo Binghe nodded enthusiastically. “Shizun has a fan.”

“You really like your sensei, ha?”

“Shizun is the best!” Luo Binghe drew himself up. “Shizun is beautiful, and kind, and… more things.”

Naruto wrinkled his nose and kicked out his leg. “Isn’t he old?”

Luo Binghe shook his head. “He is… word for knowing many things because large age?”

“Experienced?”

“Experienced,” Luo Binghe repeated longingly.

Shen Qingqiu wet his lips. “So it’s like this,” he said.

Kakashi leaned forward, hands underneath his chin. “Yes?”

“The truth of the matter is…”

“Ye-es?” 

Fuck, why oh why couldn’t an excuse have been provided for him? ‘I got a Qi Deviation and lost my memory’ wouldn’t work this time, even if they knew what Qi was! 

Could they spot lies? They could, couldn’t they? Even if they didn’t have a handy chakra trick for it, they were shinobi, surely they knew when someone was making shit up (Shen Qingqiu’s speciality!)

“This is not my first body.” Shen Qingqiu felt his soul leave his body along with those slipped-out words. 

Oh, damn it all. You could accuse him of a lot of shit (so, so much) but one thing you couldn’t say about him, is that he did things half-way. And so he closed his eyes, and thought very deeply about The Agonies (how the absence of anime opening lyric websites has kept him wondering for five years now how the Bleach theme went again). He pursed his lips. “I’ve never told anyone this,” he said in a low voice. “You can understand why, I imagine.”

Kakashi nodded encouragingly, because if there is one thing you were supposed to do in an interrogation, it is to let the suspect keep talking; to let him dig his grave. 

“You are aware, I assume, of Orochimaru’s experiments with immortality? Replace the flesh, keep the mind, et cetera?” Shen Qingqiu paused for a second. “If you’re not, I have said nothing.”

“We're aware, yes.” 

“Then I don’t need to say anything more.” Shen Qingqiu was great at bullshitting. 

Kakashi crinkled his eye(s?). “I’d like it if you did.” 

Shen Qingqiu was the worst at bullshitting. 

“Binghe,” he said, drawing on the first topic that came to his mind. “You’ve seen his eyes. He’s never developed a tomoe, and not for lack of…” great emotional trauma, “… strength of emotion.” Honestly, Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up one morning to the sight of an enormously overpowered super special unique magical bloodline ability, as befitting of the Protagonist.

“He has his father’s eyes,” he said, words heavy with meaning. “His mother -- she sealed that power away at his birth.” Truth. “She thought he would be targeted, if people learned that a--” human “--non-clanborn child showed sight of the ability.” Truth. “The seal broke when I attempted to rescue him from a horrible fate.” Truth. “If people learned of his strength, they would line up to get his favour.” Truth. “Or to acquire his power through… other methods. Ways that would not require his consent or goodwill.” Truth.  

He looked Kakashi straight in the eye, and let all of his worries show. He felt vulnerable. Naked. This was necessary, he reminded himself. “I don’t know what impact the seal will have on his continuing health.” He took in a deep, slightly shaky breath. “I don’t know how to guide him in his newfound power. There is nobody alive that can tell him what it feels like to have it be a simple, uncomplicated part of yourself, rather than something odd and foreign.” 

Sorry dude, he thought as Kakashi sat suspiciously frozen. Wasn’t intending to throw that in your face.

“He didn’t even speak the language when we came here,” Shen Qingqiu moaned, getting into it with zeal now that the emotional part was over. He had him hook, line, and sinker; now for the bonus round. “This place is so different from anything he’s ever known, it might as well be a different world entirely! At least I lived for years before I was taken to that place, before this body and existence became mine. He’s never known anything else.”

Yeah, take everything back -- Shen Qingqiu was the fucking best at bullshitting. 

“And that is without getting into the sheer mess that was our escape…”

“How interesting,” Orochimaru said, and he made it sound like there had never been a bigger compliment. He slid forward -- smooth and snakelike, even on two legs -- and tilted Shen Qingqiu’s chin upwards with two fingers. His long nails dug into his skin; not cruelly, barely even deliberately, just there.  

Shen Qingqiu did nothing. 

Behind Orochimaru, covered in his teammates’ blood, laid Binghe, crumpled on the ground. A little ragdoll, left forgotten and abandoned. His injuries, so terribly deep, were already sealing themselves up; it would only be a minute or so before his legs worked again and he could escape. Shen Qingqiu could give him that opportunity.

Stall, stall, stall for time.

Somehow, all he could notice at this moment was that Orochimaru’s nails were really very pretty; all the same length, filed into perfection, with nail polish that didn’t chip even a little. 

“Raise your sword,” the man commanded in his sibilant voice. “Let’s see if the resemblance is more than skin deep.”

(…)

“He didn’t know you,” Kakashi said lightly. “Orochimaru didn’t know you. Now, Shen Qingqiu, why could that be?”

“I don’t know,” Shen Qingqiu said, voice steadier than he knew it could be during a moment like this one. He ran his fingers through Binghe’s hair, the boy’s head laid pillowed in his lap. He looked pale, in between these hospital sheets.

Binghe would be fine -- Binghe was fine. This was just an act, just a mirage. Not even Naruto’s injuries had healed yet; there was no conceivable explanation why Binghe could be up and running. 

“No, no.” Kakashi looked disappointed in him. “Shen Qingqiu, let me lay out your position; you came here under false pretences, immediately ingratiated yourself with some of the most… politically valuable people around, and right now -- right now! -- are still trying to make yourself look pitiable.”

… look pitiable -- No?? No, he wasn't?

“Now, let’s try it again, shall we?” An air of intensity surrounded Kakashi, and suddenly Shen Qingqiu was achingly aware of the danger the man posed, of all the ways his borrowed skills couldn’t match up to those of a seasoned killer. “Why did Orochimaru not recognise you? What else have you lied about?”