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[I can’t slow down because I’m scared to stand still… ]
Welt didn’t notice at first, not because he doesn’t care but because Dan Heng is a master in hiding emotions - it took him and Himeko almost three months to make him open up, when he first joined the Crew, and he still kept things from them, like the reasons of his exile, or his true identity, or who really that Stellaron Hunter is for him – but when he notices he immediately starts to worry.
Dan Heng might be reserved and prone to isolate himself from time to time, but this is too much: he ignores Stelle and March when they leave for Belobog’s new event with Himeko, barely setting foot out of the Archive Room even to eat.
And tonight, as he stays up longer on the parlor car to read and listen to some music, Welt swears he hears muffled crying from inside the Archives when he walks by the door and decides that now it is enough: if there one thing that Welt Yang can’t stand is hearing someone crying. So he storms back in the parlor car, grabs a mug to fill it with hot water and drops a teabag inside – green tea, the sweet kind that he knows Dan Heng likes the most even if he’s never really told them, as if he doesn’t want to bother them – and walks back to the passenger car, takes a deep breath once he stands in front of the Archives’ door and then raises a hand.
It’s a small, soft knock, but he knows that Dan Heng heard him because he hears a small inhale and a sniff, but apart from that it doesn’t seem like Welt will receive an explicit invitation to come inside; he still tries to see if the door is locked, sighing in relief when he finds out it’s not, and slowly walks inside.
Dan Heng is curled in a ball on his mattress, as small as he can get, back to the door and tail and arms around himself like a shield, and Welt feels his heart ache at the sight: he may be centuries old already, and his soul might be as old as an Aeon, but Dan Heng is just a boy, barely old enough to be considered a man, and he has already suffered enough.
He slowly walks to the desk and sits there, the mug left beside a pile of books and his cane leaning against the chair, watches as Dan Heng tries to stop himself from crying as he curls up even more on himself.
“I might not understand everything but… If you ever want to talk, I’ll listen.” – it’s what he told him after the fight against Phantylia, watching as the Xianzhou’s healers were taking away an unconscious Jing Yuan, and he really hopes that he still remembers that.
Apparently he does, because after what feels like hours Dan Heng moves again, his tail uncurling itself from around him just a little bit; Welt waits and braces himself.
-…I don’t know what to do.- Dan Heng’s voice is low and tired, sniffs a few times before speaking again. –I… I feel things, and remember things and faces, but… I never saw them. It’s like… It’s like living a life that‘s not yours.-
Welt stays quiet as Dan Heng explains what he learnt from Jingliu – about Baiheng and her tragic end, about that terrible fight, about Yingxing and how the man Dan Feng sacrificed everything for is the same man that now haunts his very step… How he finds himself conflicted about what he feels for Blade, because even if he’s scared of him there is an instinct deep inside his soul that urges him to find the Stellaron Hunter.
-I can’t see where Dan Feng ends and Dan Heng starts anymore.- he sobs, hiding his face in the pillow and Welt can only watch as the pain grows and grows until it becomes unbearable and Dan Heng cries.
It hurts, it hurts everytime. And Welt is so tired of seeing people crying.
-Can I tell you a story, Dan Heng?- he tries to look as impassable as he can, because Dan Heng doesn’t need to see his pain too. –It’s about a boy, Joachim, and a magician.-
Dan Heng moves slowly, as if every little movement he does costs him all his energy, and sits up on the mattress with his knees under his chin, silently listens to him.
-Joachim was a… he was just a boy, an insignificant person, but the magician decided to take him as his apprentice. The magician was very powerful, he possessed an artefact called the Star of Eden.- Welt continues, leaning back on the chair. –That artefact was created using the core of a God-like creature called Herrscher… We can say Herrschers are like Aeons, in a way. The Star of Eden condensed the power of the Herrscher of Stars, and let the magician control gravity and creating black holes. Joachim was fascinated by his sheer destructive power.-
Dan Heng looks like a small child listening to a bed time story right now, bright jade eyes focused on him as Welt keeps talking, assimilating every bit of information he hears like a starving man over a banquet. It’s… endearing, somehow, Welt smiles a little.
-But then… The magician got fatally wounded and Joachim could do nothing but watch as he died in his arms.- Welt gulps down that knot in his throat and closes his eyes. It still hurts to talk about that day… -Before dying, the magician left the Star of Eden in Joachim’s care, naming him his successor. And so Joachim inherited the magician’s name and his powers, and started to walk the same path he did.-
Dan Heng listens as Welt talks about Joachim’s new life, the people he met, the battles he fought, the mistakes he made, the loved ones he lost… -…he was betrayed, at one point, by the person he trusted the most, and almost lost everything. And one day he found a lonely girl raised in the snow by the wolves and left her the Star of Eden, to start a new journey alone in hopes to find the princess he couldn’t save back then.-
-Did he find her?- Dan Heng speaks for the first time in a while, almost catching Welt by surprise. He smiles nods, because it’s kind of true that he found her again.
-What I’m trying to say, Dan Heng, is… - he takes off his glasses and cleans them with a handkerchief, doesn’t look at him. -…even if Joachim inherited the magician’s name and powers, he never stopped being Joachim. He thought as Joachim, he fought as Joachim, he took decisions and made mistakes as Joachim. He loved and lost as Joachim.-
His voice breaks, just a little, as he keeps talking, but Welt forces himself to keep going. Maybe, somehow, they both need this.
-Dan Feng might be a part of you, a part that shaped you and at times shackles you down, but you are still Dan Heng. Dan Heng who is so eager to learn, always finding some new discovery. Dan Heng who acts as an older brother for March and Stelle, and sometimes is overprotective over them. Dan Heng who listens to this old man as he rumbles for hours on end.- he chuckles a little, watching Dan Heng doing the same as he blinks away tears. –The past shapes you, but it doesn’t define you. You can learn from it though: you can use Dan Feng’s experiences as a… way to change yourself, so you won’t make the same mistakes he did. You can still use the love Dan Feng had for Yingxing to try and build a bridge towards Blade. Find a common ground in which you both can stand as equal.-
Slowly Dan Heng reaches out for the mug, the tea somehow still hot even after all this time, and brings it near his face, Welt puts his glasses back on.
-You have a choice, now that you’re starting to remember. Choose to follow Dan Feng’s path or creating one of your liking.- he grips his cane and stands up, slowly, his joints hurting as he moves even after days from the fight against Phantylia. –Ask yourself: “What would Dan Feng do now?” and choose if you want to make the same decision or go in the opposite direction.-
-What would Dan Feng do now… ?- Dan Heng murmurs, head hanging low and long hair hiding his face. Welt waits, even if he’s not sure Dan Heng will find and answer for that question. –Dan Feng would find a way to save the situation, even if the methods are not always the right ones.-
-And what would Dan Heng do, instead?- Dan Heng looks up at him, clearly surprised by the follow-up question. –Would he follow Dan Feng? Or would he find his own solution?-
There’s a heavy, stagnant silence over them now, until Dan Heng’s eyes bright up just a little and straights his back. Welt smiles.
-I’m tired of running away. And I’m tired of asking myself questions I don’t remember the answers to.- he looks up to Welt again, resolution in his still teary and red eyes. –Maybe it’s time for me to face the consequences of Dan Feng’s mistakes and… find a way to solve them. Or at the very least doing some damage control.-
-There, you found your answer.- Welt hums, satisfied, as he starts to walk out of the Archives. –If you ever want to talk, you know we are just a door way. And… just know that I’m pretty sure the girls and Himeko would be more than happy to give the Xianzhou a piece of their minds for what they’ve done to you.-
Dan Heng laughs at that, sincerely amused, and the tension Welt didn’t know was on his heart slowly melts away.
-Mister Yang?- the door is already open when he speaks again. Welt turns around with a hum. -I’m sure the magician would be proud of you, if he saw you right now.-
Welt chuckles at that: of course he would have put the pieces together… Dan Heng is too smart for his own good. –I don’t know… Sometimes I think he would scold me to the next century if he knew what I’ve done.-
[…I can’t go home because it feels like hell.]
Since the first time she saw him, Silver Wolf always thought that – under all the mara and rage and pain and revenge – Blade is really a kind and gentle man. She sees in the little things he does, like forcing his broken hands to try and repair one of Kafka’s hairpins or accompanying her during her usual post-mission shopping sprees, or spending time answering Sam’s questions, or when he lets her drag him to the nearest arcade without complaining even once.
That’s his way to show that he cares, in his own unique and kind of weird way, just by being around when they most need him even outside of a battle: Elio once compared him to a lonely wolf who watches his pack from the distance and comes near only when needed, but always finds ways to make others remember that he’s just a call away, and honestly Silver Wolf finds that description quite fitting.
And so, in her own way, Silver Wolf always finds a way to make him remember that the feeling is mutual: even if he tries to stay away from them, she always make the effort to spend time with him, and she quite likes going on mission with him – if she has to choose, she will always choose Blade over Kafka or Sam, but unfortunately Elio doesn’t seem to think the same way as she does.
Stupid fucker, one of these days she’ll make a furry coat out of him.
-Why are you here?- he asks, doesn’t look at her when she walks near, simply keeps looking at that old building in front of him: an old shop, seems likely, closed and decaying in a corner of the busy street full of laughter and stalls of the market. Silver Wolf finds it quite fascinating, the way Blade looks at it.
-Elio needs you back, and Kafka is too busy preparing for her next mission to come, so I volunteered.- she takes a gum and starts chewing it, steals a glance up to him. –I waited a while, Elio said you might have liked some alone time after… Whatever happened there.-
He hums and they both stay there, staring at that wreck of a building, until Silver Wolf decides to speak.
-Blade, can I ask you a question?.- she whispers, jumping up to sit on the edge of that stone railing on the other side of the empty road.
-Sure.- he leans on it beside her, without looking at her.
-Love is passion, right?- she swings her legs just a little, her feet hitting the stone with some sort of rhythm. -It's nothing but feelings and irrational choices, it has nothing to do with reason. You can't think straight if you're in love.-
-Are you?- and finally Blade looks at her, dull eyes and all of that. She shakes her head.
-No, I never have been. Everything I know I've learned from observing you.- she replies, looking at those pretty lanterns in the distance as they slowly lit up: it’s getting darker, they’ll have to leave soon.
-I don’t think I’m the best example about love, but… - Blade’s fingers fidget a little, right thumb running over the back of his left hand. -…why the premise?-
-It's very simple.- she murmurs, turning to look at him with almost flaming eyes. -It's not over until it's over, Blade. What in the name of the stars are you thinking?-
-What makes you believe I am thinking?- and the way he speaks those words, as they roll out of his mouth dull and meaningless, Silver Wolf feels a strange kind of anger raising like a tide in her guts. This man, who spent Aeons only know how many centuries chasing the ghost of a person that doesn’t exist anymore, always talking about a price to be paid and the questions he wants to ask to this person, is giving up now that he found him. –He’s not him, Silver Wolf. There’s nothing he can do to change that.-
-But… - she tries, because she doesn’t understand. –You worked so hard to find him, and now he’s remembering things… -
-Remembering Dan Feng won’t bring him back.- Blade’s voice trembles a little as he speak, she doesn’t need to ask to know that he’s forcing himself not to show any emotion in front of her. –He’s gone, and he left me here with… Someone who looks like him but he’s not and will never be him.-
Silence falls on them as Blade hangs his head low, hiding from her, and Silver Wolf weights every word he just said, feels a lump in her throat – she doesn’t remember the last time she cried.
-He’s cute, by the way.- she murmurs after a while, a small smile on her lips. –He seems nice too.-
-…perhaps.-
-But… But he’s not him.- her lip trembles, and speaking becomes a little difficult. Blade only shakes his head. –How much did you hope for it?-
-A little.-
And watching as he simply accepts this and doesn’t fight back makes her even more angry. –But it’s not fair… -
-Nothing ever is, Silver Wolf.- he whispers and stands up, starts to walk away. –You should have learnt that by now.-
She can’t understand, because even if she’s a criminal with a bounty on her head she’s still young – young compared to Kafka, even younger compared to someone as old as Blade – and still has to experience a lot: she knows nothing about love, about the fuzzy feeling of holding someone dear in your arms, she only knows the pain of being left alone and forgotten, and she hates it.
When she runs beside Blade she sniffs a little and reaches out, takes the index and middle finger of his left hand in hers. Even under the bandages his hands are always so warm…
Blade moves his fingers after a while and takes her hand in his, holds it lightly – as if he’s afraid that, if he holds her too tightly, she’s going to break.