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At a glance, everything is still the same. There’s still the sound of pots and pans clanging while a spicy soup boils in the corner. The smell of coffee still permeates the air. But for Moze, something has changed. It’s something so small, so miniscule, but it didn’t take him a while to realize what was different.
He’s used to hearing a faint hum of a song he heard from the radio. It changes often, but no matter how melancholic or upbeat the tune is, he’s always woken up by music. By the time he hears it in the mornings, it’s a sign that it’s high time he gets up. But after the incident with Hoolay, it’s been quieter.
Jiaoqiu stopped humming.
And for the first time in forever, Moze woke up late.
That day, the food also tasted different. It wasn’t that obvious, nor did it taste bad. It tasted great as usual, actually. The first bite simply felt off. If Feixiao noticed it, she said nothing. He knew it was best he kept quiet, too, so the three ate without any words said.
Moze made it a point to wake up extra early the next morning.
He walks to the kitchen and sees the same figure cooking a meal for three. He handles everything methodically and skillfully, almost as if he didn’t lose his sense of sight. After living for hundreds of years now, a lot must have become muscle memory.
“Good morning,” Moze greets quietly, his voice just above a whisper. Jiaoqiu jumps as he hears his voice and almost drops the ladle. Moze can see it in his face the way he attempts to shrug it off.
“Good morning.” He turned to the direction of his voice before turning back to what he was working on. “You’re up earlier than usual.”
Moze walked up towards him, making sure Jiaoqiu could hear his footsteps. “I couldn’t sleep well,” he answered, shrugging. “What are you making today?”
“Some soup with the mushrooms Feixiao got yesterday. If you can’t tell.” He gestured towards the ingredients in front of him and the pot of boiling water. The tone of his voice tells Moze that his presence is not welcomed.
In his defense, he’s never meddled with Jiaoqiu’s cooking before. Seeing Jiaoqiu working in the kitchen is part of his routine, although it seems that he only looks at him in passing. He has never gone this close to watch what he does when he’s cooking. Sometimes, when he walks to the kitchen, the meal is almost finished and he’s just in time to help set up the table. Oftentimes, he doesn’t even join them to eat. Jiaoqiu always makes a fuss about that.
He hasn’t been kicked out yet, so he continued to watch Jiaoqiu. Skillful as ever, he thought. Jiaoqiu cleaned the mushrooms of dirt and dried them carefully. He watched him feel for the bowl for the first few times before he got used to its placement. When it’s time to slice the mushrooms, he watched Jiaoqiu reach for the cutting board and miss.
“Here.” Moze grabbed it for him, letting the cutting board graze his hand in order for him to feel where it is. “Or maybe it’s best that I handle the knife.”
“No need.” His voice was firm but he kept his head low.
“You might hurt yourself.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” he snapped.
Moze knows better than to argue.
Moze likes to think that Jiaoqiu losing his eyesight wouldn’t change much. Perhaps Jiaoqiu wants to think of things that way, too.
“Stop it!” Jiaoqiu exclaimed. His ears are twitching the way it does when he’s extremely stressed out.
Moze fell silent. All that he did was offer to carry boxes of herbs to the kitchen.
Jiaoqiu took a deep breath to compose himself. He’s never seen him blow up at him like this before. He’s always known him to be level-headed and collected. Sure, he’d be frustrated at him here and there but never like this.
He watched Jiaoqiu quietly, the box of herbs at their feet. “You’re babying me.”
Moze blinks. “What?”
“Ever since I got blinded, you’re treating me like I can’t do anything by myself.”
“I’m not,” Was all Moze could say. Knowing that he’s been having difficulties in the kitchen, he thought to help around. He never thought this is how his actions would come across to Jiaoqiu.
“You are.” His voice is taut. “And it’s not just you, it’s everyone. Oh pity the blind foxian, right? Pity the blind healer who can’t do anything to heal himself. Hell, he can’t even do much at all!” Jiaoqiu paced around the small corner of the kitchen, his eyebrows knit together. He sounded so agonized that all Moze wanted to do is to reach for him.
“I may not see it, but I can feel how you two look at me. Stop that. Stop looking at me like I’m pitiful.” His voice shakes as he speaks. “Just because I lost my vision doesn’t mean I can’t do the same things I can and have been doing for hundreds of years now. I’m not fully incapacitated, Moze. Don’t treat me like I can’t do anything by myself.”
Moze didn’t know this was the extent of his frustrations, or maybe he didn’t look well enough. He wonders why he didn’t.
“Jiaoqiu, I—.”
“Just leave.” Jiaoqiu raised his palms up at him, letting him know he doesn’t want to hear any of it. His lips trembled slightly. Moze has never heard Jiaoqiu sound this hopeless.
Luckily for him, Moze does as he’s told, especially if it’s Feixiao and Jiaoqiu. Whatever order it might be, no matter how much his personal beliefs sometimes argue, he follows. He trusts that their orders are what’s best for them at the moment. During the incident with Hoolay, he would have chosen to run after Jiaoqiu if he weren’t ordered to leave.
Being raised as a weapon, there is not much you can do but do as you’re told. Every order, every command, it must be done swiftly and quietly, with no complaint nor personal sentiments voiced out. He learned early on he must be quiet, to always make sure he makes no sound in his footsteps, nor any lingering scent to alert anyone. A shadowguard must be a shadow in all of its regards.
But as he slowly walked out of the small kitchen of the hotel they were staying at, he found himself unable to fully pass the doorway. Stuck between leaving and wanting to help, his feet grew heavy until he stopped just outside the kitchen doorway. He shouldn’t be swayed by his personal sentiments, he reminds himself, yet he stays still nonetheless.
“Moze,” Jiaoqiu called, his voice calmer.
“Hmm?”
“I told you to leave, didn’t I?”
“But you called, so..”
He can let it be and walk away and Jiaoqiu would understand, but Moze willed himself to turn around. He watched him carry the box of herbs onto the table. He struggled a little with the height of the table, but he managed anyway. He can’t see his expression and he’s not sure why he’s unnerved by that. He’s used to being in the backlines, handling what the front cannot see. Seeing the backs of his allies is a scene that is not unfamiliar to him.
Him and Jiaoqiu are similar in that sense. Jiaoqiu was a healer during the war, a place in the backlines that soldiers return to. He sees these soldiers walk away from him to certain danger, and sometimes their backs turned to him will be his last memory of them alive. This memory is left often unspoken, too, perhaps because no one dares to ask about the tragedy a healer sees in the war. It’s far too cruel to talk about putting a person back together just for them to be put back in the battlefield that will kill them.
He heard Jiaoqiu exhale deeply. “I just… need you to trust me, as you always have. I know you’re worried, but I’m alright.” He tried to sound convincing. “Do what you always do. Come to me when I ask for help.”
“But will you?” He asks, his voice somewhat hesitant. He remembers clearly how Jiaoqiu looked at him when he realized their best chance was with Moze running away. He recalls how Jiaoqiu looked when he was trapped with Hoolay, and all Moze could do was helplessly follow them around. He relived the moment when he found Jiaoqiu on the brink of death. In all of those times, he was told to stay back by Jiaoqiu himself.
“Yes. Yes, I will.” Jiaoqiu turned to the sound of his voice. His expression felt familiar.
Moze knows what guilt is. Of course, he does. He misses the golden color of Jiaoqiu’s eyes, but he’s glad he has never seen them since.
“I know you’re there, Moze.”
“I know.” Moze looked up from the book he’s reading. He’s sitting by the table, facing the doorway so he can only see Jiaoqiu in his periphery if he tries hard enough.
“I told you to stop watching me like you’re waiting for me to make a mistake,” Jiaoqiu grumbled, but it sounds like it has no bite this time.
They calmed down by dinnertime yesterday, yet neither of them talked further about it. It wasn’t that Moze didn’t want to, he simply didn’t have the words for it. Jiaoqiu was the talker between the two of them, after all. If Jiaoqiu himself decides it was best they leave it be for the time being, so it shall be.
“I’m not looking at you,” Moze stated matter-of-factly.
“What?” Jiaoqiu turned to him in disbelief.
“I said I’m not looking at you. I’m facing the doorway towards the living room.”
He heard Jiaoqiu place down something made of metal. The kitchen smelled strongly of cardamom and red chili, but being true to his word, Moze has no clue about what Jiaoqiu is cooking.
“Then why are you here?” Jiaoqiu asked.
“I like hearing you work.” He flipped to the next page of his book.
Jiaoqiu sighed but said nothing else.
It was like that for a couple of days. Sometimes Jiaoqiu asks questions and makes light conversation, sometimes they just stay perfectly quiet except for the light clanking and chopping sounds that surround them in the kitchen. It still felt incomplete without Jiaoqiu’s humming, but it wasn’t something Moze would want to say out loud.
Last night Feixiao ordered him to follow a lead about the borisin incident and he had to stay out until the sun rose. When he arrived back at the hotel, Jiaoqiu had already begun cooking. Despite running on zero hours of sleep, he wordlessly took a seat by the table, accompanying Jiaoqiu while he’s cooking. Being a shadowguard, he’s used to being awake for multiple days straight whenever he’s sent out to track something or someone.
While quietly listening to Jiaoqiu work, he smelled the faint scent of something nutty and smokey mixing with the herby soup Jiaoqiu has been making. He then hears a weak thud on the table. He turned to Jiaoqiu’s direction and saw a cup of coffee a few feet away from him.
He watched the steam dance as it rose before wordlessly reaching for it.
The three of them are used to each other. They have worked with each other for so long now that they have grown accustomed to living alongside one another. Because of that, they have respective chores they accomplish every day in missions just like this. Moze always comes back to the hotel late at night, accomplishing mission after mission as his General orders, so he’s often tasked to lock up and draw the curtains close. Jiaoqiu likes them open when there’s still light out, especially when he’s left alone by the two.
Out of everything that slightly changed in the past few weeks, he didn’t expect to miss closing curtains the most. It’s slightly darker inside now.
“Moze?” He was not even halfway out of his room when Jiaoqiu called. It seems like he woke up later than usual.
“Yes?”
“Do you know where Feixiao might have placed the berries? She was in a rush before she left and forgot to tell me where she left them.” Jiaoqiu felt around the kitchen, hovering his hand over the counter. Moze looked around the kitchen and found no berries there. He stepped out into the living room to find a bag of red berries placed on the coffee table.
“I found it,” he called, walking back inside the kitchen. Jiaoqiu perked up at the sound of that and walked towards Moze. “Want me to wash these?” he offered.
“Sure,” Jiaoqiu nodded. He must admit he didn’t expect him to agree.
Quietly, they worked on their respective tasks. Jiaoqiu is pre-measuring sugar and vanilla while Moze removed the red berries from the twigs it’s still attached to. He ran the berries through water and made sure they were rid of whatever dirt the fruits have. Jiaoqiu is particular about those things.
“What are these for?” He asked, the swoosh of water joining his voice.
“Feixiao asked me to make syrup. She said the tea she got from General Jing Yuan would go great with the sweetness of these,” he replied as he scraped vanilla beans. He noticed that his pointer finger is bandaged.
“I see.” Moze nodded. “Well, I’m done. Do you need anything else?” Moze placed the bowl of berries right beside him, making sure the clank of ceramic hitting wood is loud enough.
“No, I’m alright.” Jiaoqiu flashed him a small smile before reaching for the bowl.
Moze leaves after that.
He arrived a little later than he expected. The moon is already high above and the streets are already almost empty of life. There are a few houses left that have their lights open, including the hotel the three are staying in. He briefly wonders what will change by the time they return back home. But it’s not worth his time to worry about something that won’t happen yet. For now, he instead thinks about what’s for dinner.
When he walked towards the door, he heard talking .
He has been so used to the silence during dinner that he’s rather surprised to find Feixiao and Jiaoqiu chatting by the living room of the hotel. Moze watched the scene in front of him. Something he hasn’t seen in the past few weeks, but a familiar scene nonetheless. The two turned to him as he entered the hotel and Feixiao flashed him a smile.
“Why are you looking at us like that, Moze? Come take a seat,” Feixiao urged. He wordlessly followed her order.
He listened to their chatting, sometimes adding quips of his own here and there. The sweet and tangy syrup Jiaoqiu made earlier mixed nicely with the mild herby bitterness of the tea. Moze swirled the reddish brown liquid inside his teacup before looking up at the two.
Moze missed this. Feixiao looks like she missed this too.
The next morning, Jiaoqiu wasn’t where Moze usually finds him. Instead, Feixiao is drinking coffee by the dining table. She’s already looking up at him the moment he enters the kitchen.
“I can hear your footsteps,” she commented.
“Where’s Jiaoqiu?” he asks instead, ignoring her statement.
“By the sea,” she answers, shrugging. “He asked me to bring him there.”
“And you left him?”
She took a sip of her coffee. “He wanted to be alone. And besides, you’d come to him anyway.”
That statement from Feixiao bothered him, but she was right anyway. He’s walking towards where Jiaoqiu first went right after his injuries were treated. The salt in the air became stronger the closer he walked towards the sea. As he rounded up the corner and walked down the stairs, he immediately saw Jiaoqiu’s figure facing the vast sea.
He was silent when he walked towards him, remembering Feixiao’s comment. He’s a shadowguard, he must not be reckless. However, no matter how silent Moze was, Jiaoqiu turned around to face him when he was a couple of feet away.
“Moze.” Jiaoqiu smiles. “You know, you shouldn’t stick with me in the kitchen everyday. I can smell my blend of herbs and spices that has stuck to you.”
“Maybe it’s your sign to tune down the spice,” he joked as he walked to stand beside him. He leaned towards the railing and watched the water recede and come back to the shore.
Jiaoqiu laughs at this and Moze briefly stole a glance. “And risk flavor? You offend me, Moze.”
He turned back to face the sea, and the cool wind brushed his hair away from his face. Jiaoqiu was always well-kept. His salmon colored hair is combed and braided nicely. It frames his porcelain skin. Despite having worked with him for a while now, he has never stopped to observe him this closely. Moze found himself unable to look away.
“You know, I was frustrated the first few weeks,” Jiaoqiu began. “Well, I think you know. I blew up on you and I’m sorry about that. I'm used to people relying on me. With you and your wounds, and Feixiao with her illness. I like taking care of the both of you. But since I was blinded, a lot of things have changed and you wanting to help me just made me feel all the more helpless. I didn't quite like that,” he admitted.
“I guess I deserved that.” Moze took a deep breath. “I felt like I was at fault for what happened to you. So much that I wanted to do everything to make up for it. I know you are capable and I know that you can handle it but… this is new. For you, especially. I saw how you struggled and I wanted to help because I wasn’t able to do that when Hoolay captured you.” Jiaoqiu kept his head low. “I’m sorry for making you feel more helpless, Jiaoqiu. And if I can, if you’ll let me, I still want to make it up to you.”
A moment passed between them, just listening to the splash of the waves.
“You already have, Moze,” Jiaoqiu finally replied.
Moze doesn’t believe him yet, but he knew better than to argue.
The kitchen is brighter than usual, Moze noted as he walked inside. He looked around and noticed the curtains of the kitchen windows are drawn open, letting the sunlight inside. Jiaoqiu is cleaning something by the sink which happened to be facing a small square window cracked slightly open to let the breeze in.
The sun’s rays hit Jiaoqiu in a way that made his salmon-colored hair more orange and golden than they usually are. The sunlight made his pale skin look brighter. Moze noted how his gold accessories twinkle and shine as it reflects off the sunlight.
Moze could spend all day just watching him, but the heavy feeling in his chest doesn’t allow him that privilege.
Still…
“Jiaoqiu?”
The foxian turned to look at him. “Hm?”
“You look really nice today.”
Jiaoqiu briefly paused, slightly surprised at Moze’s statement, but chuckled before turning back to the vegetables he’s cleaning. “Just today?” he asks with a smile.
It rained today.
It rained today and Jiaoqiu is still outside by the sea.
“Jiaoqiu,” Moze called, running to him with an umbrella. “You’re soaked, let’s go back,” he told him.
“Moze.” Jiaoqiu smiled. The pitter patter of the raindrops muffled his voice, but with how close they are to one another, it didn’t matter. “Oh come on, it’s just a little rain,” he chuckled.
The foxian pushed Moze’s arm away, removing him from the cover of the umbrella. Jiaoqiu is already drenched by the rain, his hair sticking to his forehead. His tail is swaying despite the weight of the water drenching his fur. Moze made the mistake of looking down at the foxian’s lips, its corners slightly upturned.
“What, scared of a little rain?” Jiaoqiu jokes. His smile is slowly growing bigger these days, slowly becoming what it used to be.
“I just don’t want you to get sick.” Moze felt breathless as he watched Jiaoqiu cup his hands together to collect the raindrops.
“Nothing a little bit of time and good food can’t cure,” Jiaoqiu shrugs before slowly opening his eyes. His golden orange irises look slightly duller than Moze remembers.
His grip on the handle of the umbrella tightened. It’s dangerous to want more than what you’ll allow yourself to have.
But…
It must be nice.
It was almost an unconscious move the way he raised his hand and reached for Jiaoqiu’s face. He brushed the wet hair stuck to Jiaoqiu’s forehead to the side. His fingers trembled slightly, but he opted to blame it on the cold weather. If Jiaoqiu noticed it, he said nothing. The foxian turned to look at him and briefly, it almost felt like he could see him.
A song is faintly playing through a radio in one of the houses nearby. The tune is familiar, but he does not know the words.
Slowly, he lowered the umbrella down and let the rain drench him, too.
“You know, sometimes I think of the things I’ll do when I get my eyesight back,” Jiaoqiu mutters. They’re both in the kitchen, making soup and fried vegetable and pork dumplings for lunch. Moze’s in charge of the frying because Jiaoqiu admitted he’s been having a hard time gauging the time before it fully cooks.
“Well, what are they?” Moze asks.
Jiaoqiu pouted. “I can’t say it.”
“Why not?” He glanced briefly at the foxian before turning back to what he’s cooking. He’s afraid he’ll end up burning it.
“I might raise my hopes up too much.” His voice is steady and almost seems lighthearted, however, there’s this hint of sadness that managed to seep in his words. “I trust Feixiao’s promise, but I often think of its impossibility.”
Moze pondered upon his words. It is true it’s difficult to reverse the effects of poison, and it’s even more difficult to find someone with the expertise for that. However, he and Feixiao are soldiers, and the promise of an eye for an eye is something they don't loosely throw.
“What’s wrong with a little bit of something to look forward to?” Moze asks as he poked around the dumplings sizzling on the pan.
Jiaoqiu chuckles. “What weird words coming from you.”
“You still haven’t answered the question.”
Jiaoqiu briefly thought about the question before answering. “I’m a simple man. I first want to see you two again and then maybe cook something complicated.”
The smile on Jiaoqiu’s face as he spoke is contagious. Moze found himself with a small smile. “You’re not the only one looking forward to that.”
Moze woke up to music.
The radio is playing a new popular love song.
“This song is really beautiful,” Moze says as he enters the kitchen. Jiaoqiu is sitting by the table, preparing ingredients for today’s hearty meals.
Jiaoqiu looked up at him and smiled. “It is.”