Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Clouds. 

That’s the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. Looking around, he realises where he is as his gaze falls on the large, ornate, golden wheel carved with immensely detailed illustrations of humans, animals, plants, and various other imagery.

Gingerly, he glanced at the veins perfectly painted onto the flesh as he flexed his fingers, grimacing at the abhorrent lack of a pulse. 

I’m… Kit . 

I didn’t die in this.

A surge of memories began to flood back into his consciousness. Putting on Jentry’s skin. Waiting for the right time to switch places with her.  Feeling the steely cold sharpness of Cheng’s talon slicing into his chest. 

Watching tears silently well in Jentry’s eyes as he lay on the grass, feeling his consciousness slipping away.

Jentry . 

Jentry is a force of nature.

He closed his eyes, moments with her flashing in his mind. Making her skin. Riding the bus with her. Dissecting frogs in the lab. Bonding over NCT 127 behind the school. Kissing her in the library.

Her lips were the softest he’d ever known.

Truth be told, he wasn’t too sure about how he felt about her anymore. He thought he loved Jentry - but after everything that had happened between the two of them? And Michael? 

On one hand, he thought it best to keep his distance and respect her decision to cut him out of her life. On the other, he deeply wanted nothing more than to be with her - the one person who would accept him for who he really was.

Or maybe that wasn’t meant to be. 

‘Painted Skin.’ 

A subtle chill ran down his spine. There was no mistaking that voice, imposing and commanding in its depth. The jade green silk glided effortlessly across the stone floor, the sound of heavy gold adornments almost heralding his appearance as the man came to a stop in front of him.

‘King Zhuan Lun. It is an honour to be in your presence.’

Zhuan Lun scowled, watching his pathetic kowtow with a blase indifference. ‘Get up.’ 

Nervously, he scrambled to his feet, suddenly appearing miniscule in his company. 

‘You must be wondering why you are here.’ 

‘Well, yes, but-’

‘Let your elders speak, foolish demon.’ 

He waved his fingers lazily, watching in mild delight as he watched the thread sew the demon’s mouth shut. 

‘As I was saying…the Yellow Emperor - yes, the Yellow Emperor - is secretly a big softie. He’s decided he wants me to help him grant your biggest wish as a reward for your sacrifice for Jentry Chau. I told him he was making a mistake, but he’s really very keen on it, so…here we are.’ 

Becoming…human? Having a soul?

Man, I should have done this sooner if I knew I’d get my wish granted.

‘Are you listening, painted skin?’ 

He eagerly nodded. 

‘So, you’ll be reincarnated as a human in your last skin - Kit? You’ll have all the appropriate arrangements and legal documents ready at your arrival - including schooling matters, as you are still a minor in this skin and will be reincarnated as such.’

Kit was lost for words.

‘And I think a more… human name is in order. So, we have decided that you will be known on all legal documents shall be Christopher Wong Chiu Wai, but those around you will still address you as Kit.’ 

Zhuan Lun took a glance at him. ‘Seems like you know when to keep your mouth shut now.’

The thread clasping the demon’s lips together disappeared with a snap of his fingers as the demon began to gasp for air. 

‘Wait, so - I’ll be human? But where will I go ? Texas? Seoul?’ 

The ruler smirked, clearly anticipating what was to come. ‘Seeing as you have committed a number of great crimes over the course of your life as a painted skin demon, the other kings and I took it upon ourselves to decide your location as retribution. We’re putting you in Hong Kong, nodding to your Chinese origins and Jentry’s Cantonese heritage - seeing as she’s the entire reason as to why you’ve been granted this opportunity.’ 

He smiled, relishing in his obvious horror at being so far away from everyone he knew as Kit.

Hong Kong?

Hong Kong? 

I’ll have to start all over again. 

That’s not a problem.

But being so far from other people I’ve already known as Kit  - Michael, Stella, Ed…Jentry. 

People who made me feel human - at least before they found out about me.

This is what I’ve always wanted - why do I feel so scared?

I’ve always acted to prevent people from knowing. 

How do I act when there’s nothing to fear?

Zhuan Lun’s voice cut through the still air.

‘Other than that, it seems that everything is in order. Lady Meng Po?’

A kindly old woman stepped out, dressed in robes of a modest peach. He bowed deeply towards her as she approached him, a steaming bowl of lavender soup in her wrinkled hands as she smiled softly at him, wisps of silver hair framing her features. 

Lingzhi soup…not lotus soup like the legends said.

A rich, warm, earthly aroma emanated from the bowl, the deep chestnut tones glimmering in the sunlight as he took the bowl from her.

‘Painted skin. You have suffered greatly, and have inflicted suffering on others in your past lives. To help you move on, I have brewed something that will help make the transition easier for you. You won’t forget your memories - rather, this soup creates memories that help to fill in…some gaps in your human memory. You’ll retain the knowledge of the lives you lived as a demon, and this new life you are about to enter.’ 

‘Creating…memories. Not erasing them.’

At least I won’t have to pretend to be human.

‘These memories are part of your life, painted skin. Whether you like it or not. I do hope you enjoy your new journey. For your sake.’

This is it. No more painted skin. I will no longer be a demon.

Gently, she guided the bowl to his lips. 

‘Now, drink up.’

Chapter Text

“Yo, Jentry!”

She was acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Tokki as she wrapped her arms around her in a welcoming hug and was blinded by the glow of her tangerine hair in the sun. 

A memory flashed into her consciousness - long forgotten, yet reappearing in her mind as bright as the day it happened four years before.

------

“I want to dye my hair.”

A thirteen-year-old Tokki looked up at Jentry’s sudden outburst, comfortably bundled up in the bed beside her. “For real?”

“Yeah. I gotta let go of Texas. Move on from the fire powers! Chop my hair off! Dye it a crazy colour! Pull out ALL the stops!”

“Well, in that case, as your best friend - I’ll dye my hair with you! It’ll be like we’re moving into this new phase together!”

“I’m not sure what colour to go though…I was thinking maybe red?”

“Jentry, I love you, but please don’t go red. You’re moving away from your fire powers to jump into another colour that reminds you of fire?”

“Then what about blue? Or green! I think I could pull that off.” 

“Jentry, no . Going from a raging firehead to looking like Mother Nature will not solve your problems.”

“Well- I don’t know, I didn’t really think this through!” 

“Here’s my suggestion - go blonde. It’ll be like starting over with a clean slate! Plus, you’ll absolutely rock it.”

“...don’t really see it, but I trust your opinion, Tokki - your hair opinions are never wrong! What if you go orange? Bold colours for a bold personality!” 

She paused, contemplating the idea. “Huh. You may actually be on to something. That could look really fire!” 

“Pun intended?” 

“Pun intended.”

------

As the memory dissolved, Jentry's eyes followed Tokki’s vibrant orange hair, still unchanged after all these years.

That was her first core memory with Tokki.  She didn’t think much of it when they roomed together in their first year, but it was the start of something truly special.

Buying box dye and bleach, experimenting in the dorms, complaining about the smell and opening the windows in a panic, gawking over the results - and eventually liking it. 

Tokki had always joked about experimenting with other colours once the orange faded out - but Jentry had never expected her to stick with it. 

Maybe it meant more to her than she let on. 

‘Hey, Tokki! How’s it going?’ 

She flashed a signature grin as she let go of Jentry, beaming excitedly at her.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen Tokki’s smile. 

‘Everything’s great! I’m just so happy that you’re back in Seoul, everybody’s missed you! Rupert, Minjae, me, Aunty Sena - even Madam Kang says she misses you in her classes. Do you know how CRAZY that is? Madam Kang! The strictest teacher in the whole school says she misses Jentry Chau , the most unhinged person I know.’

Jentry couldn’t help but let a chuckle slip. “She really missed me that much, huh? Who would have thunk? I was so sure she hated my guts, she kept calling on me in lessons! Guess that was her way of showing she cared.” 

“Well, you know Madam Kang - she’s a tough love kinda lady. Oh, I forgot to give you this! The Office couldn’t find you earlier, so they asked me to pass you your new Student ID! Seeing as they invalidated yours when you first left, you know?”

Reaching into her pocket, she placed a small card into Jentry’s palms, the plastic protector feeling hot and sticky against the coolness of her flesh. 

“Here. I gotta go for dance class now, but I’ll see you around! Also, love what you’re doing with the hair - going all natural! But hey, if you’re feeling experimental again, blonde was iconic. Just saying!"

She hurriedly ran out of the classroom. ‘Bye! Stay safe, drink water, and don’t- ow! Ow, ow…”

A purple bruise began to form on her forearm, reeling from the repercussions of hitting the corner of Yuna’s table who had begun to profusely apologise.

“-It’s okay, Yuna, really, I’m fine! Don’t worry about me.”

She turned to Jentry, flashing a thumbs up.

“As I was saying, don’t die!’

A small smile graced Jentry’s features as she watched Tokki leave the classroom. “Bye, Tokki.”

She studied the card, quietly turning it over in her hands as she watched the words Korea International School of the Arts glimmer in the light.

Her photograph, printed on the plastic with jet black hair. 

Her major - Visual Arts.

Her graduation year - 2026.

 Her name, in Times New Roman - Jentry Chau Jan Kok.

She brushed her fingers over her name. No one had ever used her Chinese name on its own. 

Not even Gugu, or her mom for that matter. Sure, there was her nickname - xiao zhen qu - but it wasn't the same. It was endearing, sure, but a very different feeling than just being called Zhen Qu.

She wondered how it would sound. Maybe I’ll ask Mom. Or Ed. 

Or Kit, if he were still around. 

As much as she hated to admit it, not apologising to Kit was the biggest regret of her life.

I was under a lot of pressure. 

I was scared. 

I wanted to be normal. 

She remembered the first few days after she lost her powers. Coming into school, arms linked with Stella. Feeling normal for the first time. 

Then Kit showed up. 

With a mum made of skin . 

A reminder of who he was. 

Of who she used to be. 

It was too much.

But I was a horrible person to him.

 I made him trust me with his biggest vulnerability and I pushed him away. 

I told him he wasn’t human enough. 

After I made him believe he had a soul - that a soul was the choices you made. 

I used him. 

And I never apologised.

She wanted nothing more than to say those words to him. 

———

“Next station: Causeway Bay. Doors will open on the left.”

Kit ran his fingers over his new student card, observing the words Metropolitan School of the Arts (MSA) Hong Kong boldly proclaiming under the sterile white lights of the MTR cabin. 

Reading his student ID number, a string of numbers and letters running at the bottom of the card. 

His major, proudly declared as Visual Arts. 

His graduation year - set for 2026. 

His birthday - October 27, 2008. A little younger than Jentry. 

His name printed neatly onto the plastic below an accompanying photograph of his face. 

Christopher Wong Chiu Wai.

My face. 

My name. 

This is real. 

As the train swayed, Kit’s thoughts wandered to the events of the night before.

----

Kit sat up in the bed to look out of the window of his new home in Kowloon Bay. The skyline glittered in the night sky, a stark contrast to the darkness of the room.

Feeling the lingering taste of lingzhi on his tongue grounding him in reality, he glanced lazily at the date flashing on the screen of his phone. January 5th. 

Jentry’s going back to KISA soon. 

I’m going to school soon.

Standing up, he reached for the light switch, the room instantly bathed in a warm, comforting yellow - and that’s when Kit sees himself for the first time.

The first change he notices is his hair. Still soft. Still shiny. Still a little fluffy. 

But it’s the roots he notices - something that wasn’t there before. 

Dark, chestnut brown roots growing from his scalp that slowly turn into his dyed dark blue hair. 

He looks at his face. Everything looks about the same - the nose, the chin, the jawline. 

But his eyes are now dark hazel, as rich and warm as tiger’s eye. 

Full of life, unlike the glassiness before. He’d always thought they were missing a little…something. 

Now he knew. 

Slowly, he raised his arms above his head, savoring the feeling of his muscles stretching and pulling in his skin. There’s a weight there, a beautiful, reassuring weight reminding him this is all real.

His gaze wandered over his form, acutely aware of the thrum of blood pulsing through his veins as he moved to place a hand over his abdomen - he’s warm. 

Very warm. 

He didn’t feel constricted or suffocated anymore - this skin was his . 

Well and truly his. 

This is me.

“I am Christopher.”

I am Kit . 

“I am Kit.”

Tears began to well in his eyes as he realised the comforting, loving feeling that had enveloped him. 

“I’m home.”

A knock on the door. 

“That’s it, I’ve knocked three times already and I’m coming in!”

The door opened with a loud bang, revealing a young girl. She looked to be about fourteen, with the same dark hazel eyes, her onyx black hair cascading down her back as she pushed her glasses up and wrinkled her nose in mild annoyance.

Who is she? 

More memories began to flood into his brain of bickering, chatting, joking, and laughing with the girl in front of him - cloudy and misty in his consciousness but slowly starting to crystallise.

So these were the created memories Lady Meng Po was talking about. The new ones to fill in the gaps.

That’s Ally, Lady Meng Po’s voice echoed in his head, short for Alice Wong. She’s your younger sister. 

My sister. 

I have a family.

His heart ached with a grateful happiness, his eyes only continuing to water more as she stared at him in disgust. 

“Kit?”

She let out an egregious sigh, only to turn into a grumble when she was made suddenly aware of his lifted shirt and the proximity to the mirror. 

 “Ugh, Kit, don’t tell me you were checking out your abs again ! I already told you, no girl’s gonna fall for that if you keep working out all the time, you gym rat.”

She tossed her hair, turning to close the door. “Come out when you’re ready, Mom’s made something really good for dinner tonight.”

“Mm. Okay.”

This feels…strange.

I like being alive, and being Kit.  

But it feels like my life’s been sculpted for me - or the guidelines, at least. Christopher and I are one and the same - it doesn’t quite feel like that yet. 

Maybe I’ll feel more comfortable soon - I feel pretty good now, I mean! Can’t be long till I settle down, can it?

“Christopher Wong! Come out here right now and don’t leave your mother’s cooking without a mouth to feed!” 

My father. David Wong.

There was a slight giggle and muffled banter. My mother, Ivy Cheung. 

Kit sighed. This’ll take some getting used to. 

---

He took a look at the documents on his desk - school application letters and pamphlets and an ID card.

He began to shuffle through the papers. 

He quirked an eyebrow.

Metropolitan School of the Arts Hong Kong, huh? 

(Author’s Note: some world building dump here, skip if you’d like!) 

Metropolitan School of the Arts (MSA) Programme Guide 2025

Welcome to the Metropolitan School of the Arts (MSA)

The Metropolitan School of the Arts (MSA) is an elite global network of pre-tertiary arts institutions for students aged 12–19. With campuses in cultural capitals like Hong Kong , Bangkok , Shanghai , New York , London , Paris , Milan , Berlin , and São Paulo , MSA provides an unparalleled platform for aspiring artists, performers, and creatives to thrive.

MSA offers a rigorous arts and academic program tailored to pre-tertiary students. Students can pursue either the:

• International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme (IBDP): Ideal for students balancing academic and artistic aspirations.

• International Baccalaureate Career-related Programme (IBCP): Perfect for those deeply focused on developing a professional arts portfolio.

---

Kit chuckled, taking a sip of the warm hot chocolate his mother had lovingly prepared. “Seems they can’t quite fully let go of the academics for me.” 

---

MSA’s programs are complemented by state-of-the-art facilities and world-class training in:

• Performing Arts: Dance, theater, and vocal studies.

• Visual Arts: Fine arts, digital arts, and multimedia.

• Music: Classical, contemporary, and composition.

• Film & Media: Screenwriting, directing, and acting for film.

Classes are taught by renowned industry professionals and insiders who will be able to offer students great insight into their chosen field.

Exchange Opportunities

MSA students can broaden their horizons through semester-long exchange programs , both within the MSA network and with partner institutions:

• MSA Sister Schools: Bangkok, Shanghai, New York, London, Paris, Milan, Berlin, and São Paulo.

• Pre-Tertiary Arts Institutions such as:

• Korea International School of the Arts (KISA)

• LaGuardia Arts High School (NYC) 

• And more!

----

His gaze lingered at the mention of KISA.

----

Join Us at MSA

Your future in the arts begins here. Apply today and become part of a dynamic, global community dedicated to shaping the next generation of creative leaders.

Join the Metro. Shape the World. 

---

He read with a mild interest, noting the various opportunities available. They really went all out on me, huh? This is a pretty fancy school. 

He opened the envelope - thick, toothy cream paper sealed with dark red wax embossed with the school logo - to reveal an admissions letter and various other papers. 

---

Metropolitan School of Arts (MSA) Hong Kong
Admissions Office
57 Tung Shing Avenue, Causeway Bay, Hong Kong

Date: 1 November 2024

Dear Christopher Wong Chiu Wai,

We are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted to Metropolitan School of Arts (MSA) Hong Kong for the upcoming academic year as a Grade 11 IBCP Visual Arts Major . Congratulations on this remarkable achievement!

We are excited to extend an offer to you to join our vibrant and dynamic community of artists who call the Metro home. Your talent, dedication, and unique perspective shone through in your application, and we are confident that you will thrive in our specialized, creatively driven environment.

What’s Next?

To officially accept your place at MSA, please complete the following steps:

• Confirm your acceptance by signing and returning the enclosed acceptance form by 1 December 2024.

• Submit your tuition deposit to secure your spot. Details regarding the payment process will be sent to you upon confirmation.

• Finalize your class schedule: You will soon receive a detailed list of the visual arts courses you will be enrolled in, which will include both foundational techniques and specialized subjects related to your artistic interests.

At MSA, we are committed to nurturing creative potential and providing our students with the tools they need to succeed. 

Should you have any questions or require further information, please do not hesitate to contact our Admissions team at [email protected] or call +852-1234-5678 .

Once again, congratulations, Christopher! We are excited to welcome you to The Metro and look forward to seeing your growth as an artist.

Warm regards,

Ms. Eleanor Chong

Admissions Officer
Metropolitan School of Arts (MSA) Hong Kong

--

Kit folded the letter, letting out a deep sigh as he placed the letter back into its stiff envelope.

This was all so much, so fast.  

Just weeks ago, he was dead. 

Now, he was alive, with a new identity, new family, and a new school.

He had tipped the hand of fate, and now he had a precious opportunity. 

To live . 

He sighed as he tidied the papers on the desk, looking around his room once more.

This is my life now.

His fingers brushed against the ID card again, the cool plastic grounding him as he whispered the name to himself.

“Christopher Wong Chiu Wai.”

Thankfully, his voice was the same. 

He’d grown fond of its cool, husky tone.

It still felt foreign, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

“Guess I’d better get used to it.”

-----------

He was abruptly shaken from his thoughts, glancing out of the train window as the MTR began to slow, the glittering skyline of Causeway Bay coming into view as stepped out of the MTR station, catching sight of his school campus shimmering in the morning sun.

The crown jewel of Causeway Bay.

This is where it begins.

For the first time in a while, Kit smiled.

And for the first time since he fell out with Jentry, it felt real.

Chapter Text

Kit had always been in awe of how humans were able to create beautiful buildings. Mammoth creations once made of brick - now made of glass and concrete, skyscrapers that stretched towards the heavens as humanity’s aspirations grew bolder.

MSA’s campus only served to reiterate this notion.

How can humans be capable of crafting such beauty when their very existence is rooted in violence?

Reaching his classroom, he cautiously pressed the automatic button - pleasantly aware of the coolness of the steel against his flesh. 

Silently, the door slid open to reveal throngs of students chatting animatedly amongst themselves. The creativity was palpable - Kit could almost see it wafting through the air in a thick rainbow mist, framed by the gorgeous sunlight pouring in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Student filmmakers discussing their projects with fellow composers and performers. 

Dancers teaching each other new choreographies. 

Actors doing a cold read of a new script - another group, practicing their improvisation.

Multimedia students working with fashion designers for their yearly showcase. 

Fine Arts students putting together a proposal for MSA’s open house campaign. 

This is beautiful. 

“Chris…Chris! Over here!” 

He turned to see a group of students at the front of the classroom, crowded around five desks as he caught snippets of their conversation. 

Right. My name is Christopher now. 

What if they reject me again? Like everyone else did? 

I feel like a fake. 

But this is your life now, Lady Meng Po’s voice chimed, you are not a fake. Just go for it! 

“No, but see - if we follow Wong Kar Wai’s style for this film it’ll look much nicer, right?”

“What kind of music do you want for this? I can’t write anything if you don’t have a vision.”

The first, he noticed, was a guy who seemed much taller than him, one hand eagerly waving in greeting - the other, brushing the long, chestnut brown bangs out of his eyes. 

A group of girls turned to look at him dead on, raising an eyebrow as their conversation slowed. 

How Kit wished the ground would swallow him whole.

One girl flashed a beaming smile at Kit, who instantly felt at ease.

She’s got really unusual eyes.

Her deskmate, on the other hand glanced up at him behind a curtain of jet black hair, eyed him warily, and muttering under her breath, turned back to her laptop. 

The Wong Kar Wai girl tossed back her waves of burgundy, raising an eyebrow in surprise as a small smile spread across her features. 

Was that a slight flush?

Cautiously, he began to approach the group.

Be cool, Kit. You’re human now. You have nothing to fear. 

 “I..uh, hi.” 

“Hey, Chris! I’m Dan, short for Daniel, and we heard about you being accepted so we thought we’d welcome you! Good job on getting in, man, MSA Admissions is no easy feat. Plus, I’m a Visual Arts major too, so you’ll be in the same courses as me.”

He pushed a cup towards him, the warm, comforting aroma lingering hesitantly in the air. “Coffee?” 

Kit stared at the cup - a seemingly innocent gesture. 

I wonder if there’s poison in it.

Shut it, Kit. Nothing to fear.

“...thanks.” He moved to raise the coffee to his lips, silently willing his hands to stop shaking.

Man, if this is what coffee tastes like, I wonder how delicious everything else is now that I can eat human food and not qi. 

The girl with the strange eyes moved to offer a friendly handshake.

“I’m Ellie! Pleased to meet you, I’m a Theatre major. People always ask about my eyes. It’s a bit of a mix-up—dad’s Cantonese-British, mom’s Norwegian… so my eyes ended up being dark blue. That’s it! Oh, and I make mean baked goods. Like, really good . I’ll bring some next time for you to try, how about it! Do you have allergies?” 

His eyes widened. “Not that I know of, no.” 

“Alright then! Nat, Vicky, come say hi!”

She - Nat? - brushed her dark black hair out of her eyes, her piercing gaze slowly raking him over like coals over a fire.

“I’m Natalie, I refuse to be called anything other than Nat, I’m a music major and I have high standards.”

He carefully shook her hand, wincing in pain and internally sighing in relief when she let go. “Well, it’s nice to meet you…Nat.” 

Man, she has an iron grip. 

“Hi, Chris.”

The first thing he noticed about Vicky was the mole under her left eye.

A teardrop mole. 

He recalled what he had learned in one of his past lives. 

‘Anne, you poor dear, how could you ever expect to have a good relationship with such a prominent mole?”

Unlucky in love. 

“Chris?” 

“Oh! Uh, yes…that’s me!” 

He shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry…got a little distracted there. By the way, I prefer being called Kit. I forgot to mention it earlier.” 

“I am so sorry Kit, I didn’t know, I just assumed- because your name-” 

“See, I told you Dan, we should have just used his full name!”

Kit couldn’t help but laugh at the interaction as he warmed up to the group. “Seriously, guys, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

They’re…a lot nicer than I thought they would be.

Vicky’s eyes sparkled under the light as she smiled bashfully. “That’s all right! Sorry about calling you Chris, I’ll remember Kit now. I’m Victoria, but most people call me Vicky. I’m a Film major at MSA, and I’ve heard a lot about you. Maybe…we could be friends?” 

What does she want from me? 

Wait…I don’t need to pretend anymore. 

Right? 

I’m free to do what I want!

I’m free to form genuine relationships.

I can start to move on from Jentry.

Kit smiled. “Sure.” 

He surveyed the group - smiles all around, with the exception of Nat - but he was beginning to assume that it was just her personality.

“I’d love to be friends with you all.”

A teacher entered. “Class, take your seats - we have two new students with us today, so I’d like to get through that and this year’s briefing before your first class.”

Role call began, as Kit listened to the endless stream of names for all twenty-seven of them. 

Daniel Chan. Elizabeth Synnove Ong. Natalie Cheung. Victoria Lau.

The list continued. 

“Christopher Wong?”

Silence. 

“Christopher Wong?”

His eyes widened. Right. That’s me. 

Really gotta remember that, Kit. 

“Here!” 

He closed the registrar. “Right, so now that attendance is done - introductions? Let’s have you up first!” 

Kit swallowed dryly, feeling the gaze of the class slowly piercing into his back as he stood up slowly. 

I’ve done this before. It’s fine. 

But things are different now - I’m human .

He couldn’t stop trembling. 

“He’s the one who got the full scholarship, right?”

“How good can his work actually be ?” 

“Look at him, the scaredy cat, he can’t even stop shaking!”

Stop trembling, Kit. 

“I…uh, hi. I’m…”

I’m a painted skin demon reincarnated as a human. 

I’m scared. 

I’m ready.

I’m Kit. 

“I’m Christopher, but please call me Kit - I prefer it. I’m really excited to be joining MSA as a Visual Arts major, and I hope you’ll all accept me as one of your own.”

Breathing a shaky sigh of relief, he sat down only to be nudged by Dan. 

“Hey - how about you, me, Vicky, Nat, and Ellie go for dinner tonight? There’s a really good cha chaan teng I know down the street.”

---

“Jentry’s back! This calls for a celebration! How about BBQ tonight, huh? My treat!” 

She collapsed into a fit of giggles in Jentry’s arms, watching Rupert and Minjae guffaw at her excitement as they took out their student cards to leave the campus.

“She really is something, huh, Rupert?”

“Definitely - I mean, who else do we know reacts like that when their best friend comes back after a year in Texas?” 

He glanced at Tokki, vibrant and full of life as she joked with Jentry, arms moving with gusto as she recounted her day.

“Tokki Jung, that’s who! Our energetic bunny!”

Minjae stifled a laugh as she patted his shoulder good-naturedly, “I don’t normally say this, but that was very funny, Rupert. Seriously, she definitely lives up to her name.”

“Oh, guys - how about this place?” Jentry lifted her phone to show it to her friends. “It’s pretty affordable and it’s got a lot of good reviews! Plus, they have great music and student discounts! It’s nearby too, it’s in Myeongdong.” 

“What a steal, let’s go there!” 

The grill hissed pleasantly as the beef sizzled on the hot metal. Steam wafted through the air, weaving its way through the light conversations and laughter echoing about the restaurant - a cosy nook tucked away in a hanok amid the hustle and bustle of neon-coated Myeongdong.

Clearing her throat, Minjae expertly picked up a piece of beef, swiftly dabbing in salt and sesame oil before turning to look at Jentry. “So - how was Texas? Any new friends?”

A smirk spread across her features. “Any new guys?”

“Or girls!” Tokki interjected, stuffing some jjajangmyeon into her mouth, quickly downing it with some soda. 

“Well…there was some! I got into a love triangle for a bit…but it’s alright!”

Tokki choked dramatically on her soda as she stared at Jentry, bewildered. 

“A love triangle ?!” 

Minjae scoffed lightheartedly, putting more meat on the grill. “And you , Jentry Chau , said you were destined to be single for life and the only crush you would have would be on Jungwoo from NCT 127.” 

“Yeah…who’d have thunk?”

Rupert rolled up his sleeves. “Now, this I gotta hear. Spill all the tea, girl.”

Sighing, she took a swig of her Coca-Cola. Time to open this can of worms. 

“Wait. So, you had a crush on your childhood best friend Michael, who was dating your soon-to-be bestie Stella -  and then they broke up not only because they disagreed over their future but also because she suspected he liked you while they were dating and her guess turned out to be correct -” 

“Yes-”

“-then you met his other guy - Kit - who turned out to be a painted skin demon sent by the Mogui to kill you, but then he ended up falling in love with you because you made him believe he was more human than he thought, and you also fell in love with him until he was forced to reveal himself as a demon, and then you used him for his powers and asked him to disguise himself as you as part of a plan to get the Yellow Emperor’s robes-”

“Mhm-”

“-but Michael showed up and asked you to homecoming and Kit rejected him disguised as you, only to ask you out to homecoming the next day with a skin mum and you rejected him because you just got rid of the fire powers and wanted some normalcy in your life, only for him to flip out and get super possessive and everything and you basically told him he’s not human enough for you-”

“-yep-”

“- and then he sacrificed himself for you in the name of love and then you start dating Michael and break up with him for his safety but then he starts dating someone else almost immediately and after that. And you never fully apologised to Kit?”

There was a pregnant pause. 

Minjae and Rupert could have sworn that they could feel the gravity of what had conspired - a sick mix of regret, shame, guilt, sadness.

The meat hissed happily on the grill, oblivious to the tense atmosphere.

Jentry shifted uncomfortably in her seat, picking at her nails. This was a lot more painful than I thought it would be.

“That’s…pretty much it.”

“Oh, girl…”

Rupert sucked in a breath, picking up the pork that had begun to smoke. “Flaming dumpster fire of teen angst - classic . That’s not a love triangle—it’s a Bermuda Triangle! And you can’t even properly apologise to Kit ‘cause he’s…well, uh…dead.”

Jentry winced inwardly. “Precisely.”

“Well, this is awkward.” Minjae turned to peruse the menu before ordering extra side dishes. 

He paused, muttering under his breath before adding different condiments and rubbing in a pinch of salt. 

In the wound, Jentry thought bitterly, eyeing the meat with an unusually avoidant gaze. 

“So - you’re with Michael now? How’s that decision playing out?”

Well…it’s been about two months? So far so good, I guess. But I haven’t really been able to text him much nowadays - and every time I open a portal to drop by and see him and Stella and my friends, he’s always too busy.”

Tokki leaned back in her chair, barely avoiding falling over much to Jentry’s relief. “Sounds like a bit of a case, Jentry - I’m surprised, though. From the way you described him, he didn’t really seem like that kind of person!”

She flexed her knuckles. “Well, in any case - if he doesn’t treat my best friend right, you can count on me to teach him a lesson!” 

Jentry laughed, giving Tokki a warm hug. “I don’t think we need to go that far yet, Tokki, it’s a little early - but I appreciate the sentiment!” 

Minjae looked up from her fried chicken. “But…how do you really feel about all of this? About how things ended with Kit and you never truly apologised for everything ? All you said was a simple I’m sorry even though you pushed him away for not being human enough despite everything you told him. I don’t mean to take sides, but - it’s just so heart wrenching, you know?”

The rising anger began to die off in Jentry’s throat as Minjae unveiled her revelation  - as did Tokki and Rupert’s conversation, the smoky fragrance of sizzling beef amplified in the silence. Her gaze softened as she took Jentry’s hand in her own, her posture instantly relaxing.

Tokki broke the silence, her bubbly energy doing its best to dispel the awkwardness. "Well, uh, love triangles—Bermuda or not—are, uh, super common in K-dramas, right? You're basically living one. That’s gotta count for something, huh?" She chuckled nervously, shoving a piece of kimchi into her mouth.

Rupert snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, except K-dramas usually end with everyone happy, and this? This sounds like season one of a show that got canceled before any resolution."

“Rupert!” Tokki scolded, slapping his arm lightly. "Not helpful."

“Yeah, sure, the Bermuda Triangle of Teen Angst. Classic K-drama material.” He chuckled but then looked more seriously at Jentry. “But seriously, Jentry, I think Minjae’s got a point. You don’t just… move on from something like that without, you know, dealing with it. And I can’t help but wonder if you’re really at peace with everything that happened with Kit.”

Jentry’s smile faded slightly as she stared at the grill, the sizzle of meat and the hum of the restaurant around them failing to drown out the rising swirl of guilt in her chest.

Minjae turned to look at Jentry empathetically. “Look…I get it, Jentry. You were going through a lot, and it’s hard to make rational decisions or make peace with something so messy. But Kit deserved an apology. He deserved closure - alive or dead, I think he needed to hear those words. Something more than just an I’m sorry . Do you ever wish you could have said something more?”

Jentry swallowed dryly, an unmistakable quiver in her voice as she began to speak. “Of…of course I wish I did! Kit was…a close friend to me. More than a friend to me, at one point in time. Not a day goes by where I don’t regret the way I treated him. The way I let him get hurt…I feel like I killed him. Just… everything about our relationship. I know I was under a lot of pressure, and I ended up lashing out at him for it. The way I treated him isn’t something I can easily forget.”

She wiped the tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes with shaky hands. “But he’s gone now. And at peace. There’s nothing I can do about it, but I still feel so… ashamed .”

Minjae’s grip on Jentry’s hand tightened, her voice gentle but firm. “I understand, Jentry. But you can’t keep carrying that guilt.”

Minjae’s dark gaze seemed to unravel Jentry’s soul with a mix of sympathy, sadness, and something else she couldn’t quite place - perhaps some kind of nostalgia from her past. 

“Kit’s gone. And yes, maybe there’s nothing you can do now - but that doesn’t mean you can’t start moving on. You’re not responsible for his death, no matter how hard it is to accept.”

Tokki’s voice cut through the silence, unusually quiet for the loudest in the group. “Minjae’s right, Jentry. Don’t beat yourself up over this - it’s done. And it’s time to move on.”

She smiled warmly at Jentry, enveloping her in a tight hug. “And Jentry? Just know that we’ll be with you every step of the way! We’re your friends, silly - and friends stick together through thick and thin. Even through our hair decisions - like when we were thirteen.”

“Oh my god, Tokki, not that!”

“It’s true, though!”

“Definitely, Jentry!”

“For sure, we’ll always be there. No matter where you are, or what you’ve been doing - we’re your friends.”

Rupert poured himself another can of soda, toasting the group. “Let’s go back to barbecuing! Who’s ready for some juicy pork?”

Chapter Text

“I’m home.”

The sound of Jentry’s footsteps entering the kitchen broke the monotony of the night, dropping her bag into the nearest seat as she slipped on a pair of slippers.

Moonie looked up from her tea in surprise. “Jentry! You’re home. How was your day?”

“It was…good! I mean, the BBQ was pretty great, and karaoke was fun! I’m really glad I got to spend tonight with my friends again - it’s just been a pretty long day.”

Jentry paused, gaze flitting over her student ID card. “Hey, mom?”

“Mhm?”

“I know we have roots in Hong Kong - but why don’t you or Gugu speak Cantonese? I was just curious, since - I realised that I’ve never had anyone use my full Chinese name. Not just xiao zhen qu .” 

“That? She and Iris had to flee to Taiwan and stopped using the language.”

“But why did they flee?” 

The air was still - Jentry could almost feel the weight of the explanation pressing down on Moonie’s shoulders. 

“It’s a… difficult story. A long and difficult one. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Wordlessly, she moved to join her mother, taking a sip from the warm cup of jasmine tea in her hands.

“Your family’s always been rooted in Hong Kong. Gugu and your grandmother even grew up there. But the 1967 riots and the start of the Cultural Revolution just proved that China was too dangerous now. Your great-grandparents were scared of the Revolution one day spilling over into the colony - and the riots proved them right. Bombs being planted everywhere, fights breaking out - it was horrible. Their neighbours died - kids , Jentry. Nine years old.”

Jentry’s eyes widened, staying deathly still. “And then what?”

“Your great-grandparents, Gugu, and Iris fled for Taiwan. They had…family there, and financial assets. A home they could take refuge in.”

Moonie paused, gaze distant. The smell of jasmine tea seemed to linger and mix with the chirping of cicadas outside their window, not unlike nights from decades before. 

Taking a deep breath, she began to speak - quietly, as if recounting the events that had transpired would reopen the deep wounds they had left on their family history.

“The riots…were deeply personal to Gugu and Iris. I don’t know if Gugu told you about this, but…she had a third sister. Younger…than your grandmother. But all of her photographs were burned by your great-grandparents after what she did - she was disowned.”

Jentry clung on to every word in desperation and an unexpected anger - how could Gugu not have told her this?

“What did she do to make them so…. so angry? ”

“Her name was Audrey. She refused to join them in Taiwan, not wanting to leave her leftist boyfriend who was fronting the revolution. His name was Chiu Wai.” 

Her face turned white, the warmth of the tea suddenly gone.  

This couldn’t have ended well. 

“They both died in an explosion. She was fifteen.” 

The gravity of Moonie’s words hung in the air, cold and heavy. 

"Fifteen," Jentry repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. The mug in her hands felt suddenly too heavy, the heat from the tea no longer comforting but suffocating. She wanted to scream, to cry, to vomit in disgust at the mere thought. 

But she sat still, feeling the cold rush of shock wash over her.

Could I have done the same? Stayed behind for someone I loved, knowing the danger? 

Kit’s face swam painfully into her consciousness. He stayed behind for me even though Cheng was dangerous. 

Even though I pushed him away.

Feeling a pang of regret in her chest, she shut her eyes tightly, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she willed the vision to disappear.

“She was…my age.”

Moonie nodded. “They…they never saw her again after that fight. Once they moved to Taiwan, they stopped speaking the dialect entirely - they wanted to leave all reminders of their sister in the past. They refused to use it - even with their parents. That’s how they grew apart, you know - they never forgave them for not forcing Audrey to flee to Taiwan with them.”

Jentry was lost for words. 

How could they have made such a hard decision? Cutting off their own parents…just because of their involvement in their sister’s death. 

“Over time, they’ve just…forgotten how to speak it. Your father was born in Taiwan, despite being from Hong Kong. Your grandfather and I came from a similar situation - children of Hong Kong refugees who met through support groups.” 

Moonie smiled softly, taking Jentry’s hand in her own in silent support - a comfortable warmth in spite of the sudden cold of the room.

“I guess Iris didn’t want to pass the pain of the past to Peng - and I’d imagine that’s why Gugu never taught you the language, either. It’s a burden for our family, Jentry. My parents also chose to let go of the language because of how much it cost them. When you were born, we figured you wouldn’t really have any use for your full Chinese name, so we just used a nickname. I can only give you the Mandarin pronunciation - Zhen Qu.”

Precious song. The words rippled through Jentry’s head, absentmindedly tracing the edges of her student card. She knew what her name meant. Beautiful and warmly familiar. 

But always distant . She knew that the name would never really stir anything in her. Not Cantonese, not Mandarin.

It wouldn’t ever truly belong to me .

The realisation seemed to weigh on her heart like a heavy stone.

She said nothing, only watching the steam rise from the cup of jasmine tea in her hands like a veil between her and the life she would never have. She tried to imagine a world where she knew she had an aunt named Audrey. A world where the people around her spoke Cantonese to her, not just Mandarin. 

It seemed almost impossible.

“But why ask all of a sudden? About our roots…why now, Jentry? Is everything alright?”

Moonie’s gentle prodding felt like a soft murmur behind the murkiness of her own thoughts. 

Jentry didn’t have an answer. Instead, she let the silence linger, the unspoken weight settling in the dust of her revelation.

“I just…I was thinking a lot about…roots, lately, and about my ties to my heritage, that’s all. Nothing else.”

Moonie raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Well…if you say so. You look exhausted - why don’t you wash up first? I’ll put away the tea.”

Deciding not to press further, she began to clear away the teacups.

---

Jentry was all-too familiar with the feeling of her bedsheets pressing down on her. 

The soft, textured blend of rayon and cotton - while normally a welcome escape from the harshness of daily life - now felt anything but comforting. 

She rolled over, burying herself deeper into her duvet - desperately searching for a shred of comfort as the weight of what had transpired seemed to drill itself relentlessly into the depths of her consciousness.

I feel like I'm suffocating.

There was a pleasant chime as another notification flashed across her phone screen, illuminating her bedroom with a lonely glow. 

Cursing under her breath, she reached out a hand, lazily flipping the screen of her phone to face the table as her mind drifted back to the events of the night - the barbecue with her friends, the unsettling discovery of her family history, Minjae’s questioning of Kit - 

Kit.  

“Love,” she murmured, “how could anyone let a simple emotion dictate what they do?”

Apparently, I’m anyone. 

I broke up with Michael because I didn’t want him to get killed by demons. 

And then we got back together again. 

“And Kit, I guess. He stayed to make things right even after he stole the robes because he ‘loved’ me.”

Sure, that was selfish - but everything he did eventually ties back to me. 

Even stealing the robes.

She turned again.

“I can’t say I’m not to blame though. Minjae was right. I was really… cruel to him. Telling him that he doesn’t need to be human to have a soul, then pushing him away when he trusted me enough to open up - me, Jentry Chau , the first person to truly believe in him and his humanity-”

She stopped. 

That’s why he clung to me to the point of obsession. 

No wonder he kept wanting to do all those crazy, selfish things to try and win my affections back from Michael. 

I was the first person he felt like he could trust - the first out of thousands, probably. To really, truly feel human emotions with. The kiss, telling him he was more human than he knows, 

Pushing him out of my life…

“I must have hurt him beyond relief.”

She sat up.

“But I can’t really say I was being unreasonable, right? Gugu lied to me and I just wanted to get rid of my powers. The last thing I needed was for another person I trusted to lie to me again - and that’s exactly what happened. I wanted something normal after everything, and Kit represented all the things that I wanted to leave behind - is that so wrong?”

Still, a quiet voice rang in her mind, that’s no excuse for the way you used him.

“I’ll treat you like every other demon that gets in my way.”

Jentry winced, recalling the stinging harshness of her words as she slammed her front door in his face. 

How could I have been so insensitive?

Fumbling for her phone, she opened their chat history. Squinting, her heart began to sink as she scrolled through the messages and watched their volume dwindle significantly after that day at the fair.

Wow…I really cut him off just like that, huh? 

Her fingers hovered above the keyboard. 

If I do this, will I be able to close this part of my life? 

It’s not like the number’s been reregistered, anyway - I’m pretty sure his phone’s been destroyed. 

It’ll just be for me. 

The soft tapping of her thumbs filled the void as she drafted out a heartfelt apology, paragraph upon paragraph of regret stacking atop one another like building blocks.

By the time she had finished, she felt a cooling wave of relief envelope her. She had relinquished her feelings. She had said everything she needed to say. 

Pressing send, she put the phone back down as she wrapped herself in the soft, warm embrace of her duvet - finally content with the closure she had found. 

There’s no need to obsess over this anymore, Jentry - no one will read it. 

It would be hours later until she noticed that a second tick mark had appeared next to the first.

---

Sleep didn’t come easily for Jentry that night, however. 

She found herself in an unfamiliar room, thick with the heady scents of sandalwood perfume as she lifted herself from the ornate teak and silk upholstery. The impeccably polished wooden floorboard seemed to gleam with a danger that Jentry couldn’t begin to place.

The soft glow of the chandelier cast flickering shadows on the rug as it slowly climbed up the red brick wall coated in concrete, past the fireplace roaring in shades of vermillion and umber - to finally spotlight an unfamiliar face in a portrait hanging above the oak mantle.

Slender and oval, her strikingly familiar eyes glared back at Jentry with a rebellious fire.

A tall nose, a small smirk, her long, dark hair held back by a simple headband.

She looks like me…but that’s not possible.

Only when she glanced at the faces of those around her did Jentry realise who she was, quietly studying their faces as her breath hitched in her throat.

The stoic, unwavering expression of the eldest daughter - an expression that now looked starkly uncharacteristic to the woman Jentry knew.

The warm, soft smile of the second that she’d only seen in photographs. 

Gugu and Grandma.

The faces were hauntingly familiar - taunting her, as if reaching out from a long-forgotten memory. 

Slowly, she raised a trembling finger to linger at the once-unknown face, blinking in adamant disbelief as everything seemed to click into familiarity.

Her smirk. Her stance - poised and confident. Her eyes, filled with a burning desire for change.

Everything that Jentry saw in herself.

She tried to look away, but the pull was irresistible, like gazing into a reflection she was never meant to see.

“Audrey.”

Precisely, my dear.

Jentry recoiled back onto the sofa, clutching her head as the unfamiliar voice of an old woman reverberated in her mind.

 “Who are you?”

The voice tinkled in laughter. I am Lady Meng Po. 

“Wait- as in, the Meng Po soup? I thought you took away memories. Why are you showing me this?”

Some memories are meant to be reclaimed, Jentry, not forgotten. 

“That doesn’t explain why I need to reclaim them.” 

There are some things that can’t be explained now, my dear. There are unknown forces at play, forces that threaten to ruin everything you cherish. 

I only hope that showing you these memories will be the key to helping you understand. 



!! STRONG LANGUAGE AND PHYSICAL VIOLENCE, PROCEED WITH CAUTION !!

There was a muffled bang, followed by voices and a resounding slap that struck a chord of malice within Jentry. 

With a sinking dread, she ran towards the door - an undeniable feeling of horror rising within her as she pushed open the oak panels to see the stinging burn of cane marks blooming on Audrey’s legs. 

Almost as if the painting had come to life. 

She’s scared , Jentry noted, before realising that the once-present fear had been tampered by a raging fury.

“You are a daughter of the Chau family! You should know better than to soil your good upbringing ! How could you taint our bloodline by running around this city with the likes of those rebels - terrorising and corrupting the good people!”

Audrey slowly got up, blinking back tears as she glared at the man she called her father. 

“The only ‘good people’ who are offended by it…are disgusting people like you ! People who only profit off of the sweat and hard labour of the working class, only to pay them in scraps! You and I both know that isn’t fair to them, and yet you don’t do anything to give them what they deserve!” 

She’s far more spirited than Mom made her out to be.

Another slap to the face, the imprint of her father’s palm burning a furious red into her skin - and yet, Audrey refused to back down. Clutching her cheek, she found her footing and began to speak, her voice raw and ragged.

Jentry couldn’t tear her eyes away from the image of her ancestor, defiant in the face of familial rejection. The image of Audrey, standing there, bleeding but resolute, seemed to burn itself into Jentry’s mind.

“The only thing they deserve is scraps because that’s what they are! The waste of the lower rungs of society! And what’s more, there’s been talk of you running around town with that…that revolutionist rat Chiu Wai! You - the daughter of one of the richest families in Hong Kong choosing to throw all of our hard work away - for an uncultured, dangerous bastard?”

Her father’s gaze narrowed in disapproval.

“ He’s a threat to everything we built. ”

There was a long silence as Jentry watched in horror, face throbbing with a similarly bruising pain. Her great-grandmother said nothing, only enabling her husband - watching the torment with a stony gaze as she blocked Flora and Iris from running to Audrey in concern. She hadn’t spoken - but the message was clear. 

You will not interfere with your father’s punishments.

The Gugu I know would have done something - but Flora can’t .

“You think that by playing at revolution, those common folk will accept you? You’re different, Audrey! They are the scum below your feet-”

Her nostrils flared. “They are not scum! Chiu Wai fights for something I believe in! I love him, and I will not stand your slander!” 

Audrey’s father laughed, twisting into a shrill and maniacal scream as the force of his hands pushed her closer and closer-

To the door, Jentry realised, hands shaking with a deathly numbness as she realised what was to come next. 

“Fine! If you want to be his whore, so be it. When you die - and mark my words, it will be because of him - don’t blame me! Blame yourself for making such a foolish decision, little girl.”

Audrey’s eyes burned brighter, the flame of rebellion bursting forward from within. 

“You’ve been corrupted far beyond compare - and for that, you can no longer be a Chau. Join his ragtag band of communists for all I care - you will not be sullying our family’s good name!” 

She steeled herself, readjusting her posture and her headband as she made her way to the door.

Only after a long, anguished pause did Audrey begin to speak again - voice breaking, but strong and resolute.

 “Then so be it…Goodbye. I hope you all have a comfortable life - fleeing to Taiwan, knowing you abandoned your people in their struggle against our social construct and you did nothing to help.”

Eyes widened, Jentry watched as Audrey stormed closer and closer to the entrance of what was once her home, the sound of quality leather thumping angrily against the wood of the floorboards as she cut through the tense atmosphere with a rough fury. 

This is the moment that started it all. 

Heartbroken, Flora and Iris pushed their mother away. They reached for Audrey, but it only proved futile as their little sister severed ties with their family.

“Mother, please do something, Father, don’t-”

Averting her gaze from her daughter’s pained expression, she murmured quietly. “It is what it is, Iris. There’s nothing that can be done.”

Audrey slammed the door. 

It had been done. 

No one said anything, at a loss for words at Audrey’s departure. To be disowned was shameful. 

Betrayal began to spread through Jentry, wracking her with pain as she watched her great-grandfather raise a hand to the door, shaking in fury as she felt the full impact of Audrey’s severance and her great-grandfather’s rage burn into her mind.

Something’s been torn away from me. 

“Get away from that door, Flora. She is nothing to us, do you hear me? Don’t bother contacting her.” 

Scanning the room, his eyes latched onto his trembling house staff shivering in a corner - having witnessed the full extent of their master’s anger being unleashed onto a teenage girl. 

“Ah Lok, Ah Mei - fetch me all of the girl’s photographs, medical records, and birth certificate and burn them in the fireplace.” 

“Even the family portrait?”

He hesitated, a glimpse of pain flitting over his features before regaining control of himself. 

Jentry opened her mouth to hesitate, but then remembered - 

No one can hear me.

Quietly, she clung to his next words.

“No, don’t burn that one. We just got it painted this year and it’s too expensive to replace.” 

Horrified, Jentry could only watch in silence as the staff tossed any remainder of Audrey’s existence into the hungry flames - portraits from her younger years, photos with her sisters, photos with her parents, her medical records and leftist flyers she collected - anything that could be tied back to her as the smell of guilt and shame wafted into the air. 

Suddenly, Audrey’s father motioned to Ah Lok. “Give it to me.” 

The paper trembled dangerously in Ah Lok’s bony grip as Audrey’s father snatched the certificate from him, sneering at the neatly printed words. 

Spitting for good measure, he carelessly tossed the paper into the fire, crackling victoriously in the heat as Jentry tried to protest. 

But there was nothing. 

The words seemed to die in her throat, suffocated by the smoky fumes of betrayal seeping into the world around her. 

She could only scream in pain as her heart twisted at the disintegration of Audrey’s existence, her ties to the Chau family - and  all signs of her rebellion, reduced to nothing more than a dent in their memory. 

How could my great-grandfather have cast out his daughter because of love? 

Getting up from his knees, he turned to his staff, jumping in fear at seeing his imposed figure. 

“Let this be a lesson to everyone in this household. No one can defy the name of Chau without suffering the consequences.” 

He paused, glaring at his remaining daughters - trembling, distraught, unmoving, gazing at him with something darker he couldn’t quite place. 

“Not even my flesh and blood.”

Chapter Text

The thrum of nightlife infiltrated the brightly lit streets of Causeway Bay, breathing life into the crowds of people passing through the cramped streets as the rumbling chorus of voices rang loudly in Kit’s ears. 

Even though he wasn’t a demon anymore, he could still feel the quiet presence of qi . 

It was subtle - but it was there. Pulsing through the crowds of people all around him, nurturing and overflowing in its vitality. 

A sharp yell pierced through the air as he watched Daniel flush red at Vicky’s teasing, jumping at Ellie cackling uncontrollably in laughter and seeing Nat crack a small smile.

Pretty weird mix of kids in this group - but it kinda works. 

“Kit!”

Ellie’s eyes sparkled in the dark, her grin spreading wider. “You’ve spent time with us at lunch, but this is your real initiation! Are you ready?” 

Nat rolled her eyes good-naturedly, linking Ellie’s arm in hers. 

“Of course he’s ready, Ellie, he’s been spending time with most of us the entire day.”

He couldn’t help but smile as he came up from behind them, slapping Ellie and Daniel on the shoulder. “Well…ready as I’ll ever be.”

The day was…eventful, to say the least. Attending Art History and Theory with Dan, visiting his studio for the first time, being swarmed by classmates, and being assigned to work with Vicky and Nat for their film project. 

Needless to say, it was a lot . 

Fulfilling, but a lot - and he was hungry.

Daniel had raved all about cha chaan teng food to him - the fluffiness, the richness, the flavour, the warm and buttery textures. 

Kis was practically salivating at the thought. 

MSA’s canteen tasted great for a demon that hadn’t needed to eat for energy - but from the way Daniel had described it, cha chaan teng cuisine was pure joy condensed into simplicity.

“Hey, Kit - we’re here! This is the cha chaan teng I was telling you about! We’ve been going to this place since we were kids, so we’re pretty close with the uncle that runs this cafe.”

The blue-and-white neon sign above the shop gleamed brightly amongst the billboards, proudly announcing the location of the White Moon Cafe (白月茶餐厅). Pushing open the brick red door, the group carefully entered the shop, barely dodging a swinging bell announcing their arrival. 

The White Moon Cafe was a scene frozen in time. 

Walking in, Kit felt a sudden pang of nostalgia as he took in the cafe. The green-and-white checkered tiles that shone with a subtle grease, the white walls, the warm electric lights, the orange seats, the quiet hum of chatter.

It feels like home.

He suddenly understood why this was a favourite haunt - the feeling of belonging, the friendliness with the owner, the comforting food - for twelve year olds spending so much time away from their family, this must have been heaven.

“This place has been around for ages - since the 60s. I think it was a political stronghold early on, too. Our grandparents and their friends used to come around here, and so did our parents. So…it’s kind of like a second home.” 

A warm blush rose to Vicky’s cheeks as she tore her gaze away from Kit.

“Wing Fei?”

Vicky turned around in glee. “Uncle Han! It’s me!”

An old man appeared from behind the counter, adjusting his wire spectacles as he mopped his brow with a Good Morning towel and moved to welcome her, eyes lighting up in surprise as he noticed the others.

“Ah, you’re all here! Kar Mun (Ellie), Wing Tung (Nat), Yip Shuen (Daniel)! So nice to see you again. And-”

The uncle’s pallor paled in shock as he took in Kit’s appearance.

Daniel flashed a sheepish grin. “He’s not very good with English.” 

Kit stiffened, a wave of awkwardness washing over him as he extended a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Uncle Han - my name is Wong Chiu Wai.”

A flicker of recognition passed through his gaze. “Wong Chiu Wai? You wouldn’t happen to have a relative…?”

“Not that I know of, why?”

“Oh, it’s just…you remind someone I once knew with the same name.”

A trace of a smile tugged on the corner of his lips. “Do I, now? ”

“That name brings back memories. He was my good friend when I first moved here from the mainland and got a job at the cafe. He was a rough kid, trouble, really, what with the whole ‘I want to lead the riots’ spiel  - but his girl could always make him soft like butter.”

Vicky’s eyes gleamed under the light of the lamp. “Who was his girl?”

“Audrey Chau. They used to come here all the time with Daniel’s grandma and Uncle Kong. She was like pure sunlight - always warm, never blinding. The sunshine to his storm.”

Chau…she couldn’t possibly be related to Jentry, right…? Chau’s a common surname. 

The old man’s gaze softened, the passing of decades suddenly evident on his features as he was lost in the mists of his hazy memories.

Blinking away the tears that threatened to spill out, he turned to the group.

“Enough musing on the past! Why don’t you all sit over there,” he pointed to a table, “and take a look at the menu - even though I’m sure I know your favourites! I'll come over to your table as soon as my other employee’s done with this.”

Kit slipped into the booth, following his newfound friends who sat down with a practiced ease as they passed around the menu, thumbing through the laminated paper.

Try as he might, he couldn’t shake Chiu Wai from his memory.

Who were you, Chiu Wai? 

“...okay, so we’ll have satay noodles, french toast, pork chop rice, luncheon egg sandwiches, and, uh…a pineapple bun. Drinks, anyone?”

Vicky placed the menu back in its metal holder, turning back to smile at the teenage server clearly smitten with her. “I’ll have a cold milk tea!”

Nat barely looked up from her phone. “I’ll have Yuen Yeung.”

“Ellie?”

“Iced lemon for me!”

“Okay, I’ll have a black cow. And…” Daniel glanced at Kit, “anything for you?”

“Oh, uh…”

Cautiously, he glanced at the menu - an explosion of colour, early influenced by its midcentury origins as the neatly printed words and characters seemed to float off of the page. 

What should I drink? 

Naturally, his first instinct would be coffee.

That’s what Jentry would pick.  

If he closed his eyes, he could almost see her in his mind’s eye - sauntering into class, glancing at her phone as she took a sip from the cup of coffee in her hand. Bold, aromatic, vibrant.

But he couldn’t help feeling as if something else was calling his name, bubbling with memories from decades before. 

A giggle, a soft swelling warmth - an echo of a passion that had once been - and something darker, like the smell of rebellion. 

A frown crept onto his face as his brows furrowed in thought.

He wasn't the Chiu Wai that Uncle Han knew, of course.

That would be absurd.

But the visual similarities that Uncle Han spoke of, the tugging feeling towards the menu - it was all too difficult to ignore.

“Kit!” 

The snappiness of Nat’s voice cut through the chatter, glancing up at the orange porcelain wall clock. “We don’t have all night! Hurry up and choose so we can eat and all go home!”

“Nat!” Ellie lightly slapped Nat, brushing her soft pink hair out of her face. “That’s rude!”

“What! Vicky, you know it’s true!”

“Yeah it is, but Ellie’s got a point. It’s not nice to rush people.”

Vicky flashed another smile to the server, her face warming as she fiddled with the ends of her hair. “Sorry, Nat just gets extra snappy after a long day.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay! Also you’re really pretty and I was wondering if I could give you my phone number…?”

Kit watched as Vicky opened her mouth to speak - hesitating as her gaze flickered momentarily in Daniel’s direction before turning her attention back to the server, who had begun to shift his weight nervously.

“Sorry, I think I’m…interested in someone else.”

Ellie’s eyes widened.

Someone else?

“Oh…no worries. Are you done?”

Taking a final glance at the menu, Kit set it on the table. “Cream soda with milk, please.”

Daniel chuckled wryly, sliding the menu back into its holder. “Going old school now, are we, Kit? Deja vu for something you’ve never had, perhaps?”

Nat scoffed loudly. “My grandma loves that stuff - and she even orders her food faster than you.”

“Don’t be so mean, Nat, this is…a new experience! Right?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

“See? That just proves my point.”

“Ellie, I love your enthusiasm, but that doesn’t explain why he took ages to decide on a drink at 8pm on a school night.”

“Cool your jets, Nat, I know you have to write the music for that short film you’re working on.”

-and it’s Kit’s first time getting served cha chaan teng food White-Moon style!”

“Whatever, Dan - you fun-sucking vacuum.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. “Ellie, you have a point there, I gotta hand it to you.”

“Aha! Point for Ellie - and is that a smile? You know I’m right! White Moon Cafe food just hits different!”

Uncle Han’s voice dropped by decibels, whispering conspiratorially, “-And you know, cream soda and milk was a favourite of Chiu Wai’s, too.” 

With that, Uncle Ho strolled back to the kitchen with a wistful smile, narrowly avoiding being hit by another server bringing the food that they had ordered.

“Okay, so,” Taking a long sip from his black cow, Daniel smiled warmly at him, “now that that’s over, let’s get to know you a bit better, Kit.” 

Swallowing nervously, he plastered on what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Sure…what do you want to know?”

Ellie spoke up midway through a bite of baked rice, the steam rising and curling in tendrils. “I just realised - you look kinda Korean? Like Jungwoo from NCT 127! I’m a huge fan!” 

“Oh, that…I get that a lot! I’m…not a huge NCTzen-”

“Come on, you’ve gotta admit their choreography is pretty cool!”

“I’ve listened to some of their music.”

At least that was true . 

He did end up listening to their music when Mr Cheng asked him to hit the books to prepare to infiltrate Jentry’s life.

What he could say for certain was that he didn’t really like it all that much. 

The flashy lights, punchy choreography, blaring tracks crammed to bursting in three minutes - wasn’t really his thing, but he saw the appeal.

But what did he know? He was trying to pass as a regular teenager - a living, breathing, human teenager. This was what they had grown up with - maybe this chaos was nothing new. 

Pretending to be one of them as a supernatural creature was like second nature to him.

Actually being one of them? That suddenly felt like the hardest task in the world. 

How long will it take before this feels normal for me?

He was painfully aware of Vicky’s lingering gaze as she nursed her glass of milk tea, her expression a mix between curiosity and suspicion.

“Wow…pretty interesting, Kit. So what kind of music do you like? Other than that, what kind of stuff do you like to do? Hobbies or anything like that?”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the table.

“...I like to paint.”

“She means outside of school, Kit.”

Nat’s voice cut through the tense silence, laced with a cutting disdain as she helped herself to the satay noodles.

“You already do art like, 24/7 at MSA. I mean, you must do something else outside of that. Surely your life revolves around more than just art.”

She hadn’t said it, but the insult hung in the space. 

Pathetic.

Kit’s chest tightened, his heart pounding erratically in his ribs. Pathetic. That’s what you are. A reincarnated painted skin demon trying to fit in with seventeen-year olds and failing miserably. 

How could I be accepted if I’m having trouble accepting myself? I’ve been pretending to be one of them - a human - all my life, and now I’m a human. But I still can’t figure out how to fit in. 

The table shook with the force of Vicky’s hand striking the table, the glasses and tableware clinking together noisily in the din of the cafe. “Natalie!” 

“I’m sorry, I just don’t trust him! You know what happened the last time we brought in a new person into our group - We lost a friend , Vicky! Sure, I didn’t mean for it to be that harsh, but you can’t deny that most people have at least one hobby outside of school!”

Daniel seemed just about ready to throw hands, his fists clenched in restraint.

Kit’s hands trembled dangerously as he reached for his cream soda, the glass of milk almost falling to the table and cracking as he carefully worked out the ratio between the two. 

Cautiously, he caught Vicky’s furtive glance at him - a flicker of uncertainty crossing her features as Nat’s interjection broke the silence.

“Yeah, but he could be different, Nat! Not everyone’s like that guy, you know-”

“Listen to me, Vicky. Are you trying to defend Kit because you actually see him as a new friend? Or are you still hung up on what happened with-”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Vicky’s anger boiled over, her voice unusually sharp and cutting in a way that made Kit recoil from the sheer fury radiating from her in waves.

“You know that’s not the reason why! Kit’s barely done anything and you’re projecting your feelings from what happened the last time we welcomed someone new to him! That’s unfair to Kit!”

She’s…defending me. 

Daniel could only rub his temples in frustration. “Here we go.”

There was a long pause as her outburst began to settle into the atmosphere. Ellie had grown unusually stoic, her expression a mix of resignation and sadness as she absentmindedly cut up the luncheon egg sandwich.  

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, averting his gaze elsewhere.

Vicky’s eyes widened, hands flying to her mouth as the gravity of what she had said hung in the air, Nat’s guarded walls beginning to crumble in a mess of hot tears.

“Oh, Nat…I didn’t mean to say that.”

Slowly, Nat’s gaze softened, tears beginning to well in her eyes.

“Look…I’m sorry, okay? I saw how upset you were at what happened - you were in tears, Dan was so angry , I was pretty much heartbroken, and Ellie was practically inconsolable…I don’t want that to happen again.”

The booth suddenly felt too small for the five of them. 

The glass under his fingertips felt clammy, the skin sticking to its surface as he prickled under the hot lights, every passing second threatening to destroy the facade he had desperately tried to hide behind.

Lady Meng Po’s voice broke through the whirl of thoughts revolving in his head.

Painted Skin.

We reincarnated you to give you a second chance, not for you to wilt in the corner when you have potential friends defending you. Like Jentry said, you may be more human than you know - you can pull from your past experiences.

All you have to do is be brave enough to try. Really try.

He lifted his head, observing the scene unfolding in front of him. 

Ellie had enveloped Nat in a warm embrace, gently patting her back as the tears began to flow freely, the pain of the past betrayal slowly resurfacing to the surface. 

“I know, I know…you were really close to him, weren’t you? It’s okay to cry, Nat…”

Ellie murmured softly, her words like a warm, soothing lullaby. 

Vicky murmured a quiet apology before taking a long, drawn-out sip from her milk tea, now too cold to offer her any hint of comfort from the awkwardness as she locked eyes with Daniel, feeling a startling pang of shame and regret before she tore her gaze away.

Curiously, Kit watched as Daniel’s gaze seemed to linger on Vicky before turning back to slice a piece of french toast for himself.

“I…I don’t blame you for feeling that way, Nat. I get it. It’s hard to trust people - that’s why it was hard for me to answer your questions just now. I’m not used to being so…”

“-open?”

“Yes…open.” Ellie offered him a supportive smile. “But I can try. Hopefully, I’ll be able to earn your trust.” 

“Baked rice.”

Nat sat up in her seat, wiping away the tear-streaks on her face.

“You haven’t eaten anything yet, Kit. Try the baked rice first. I’d recommend the french toast, but it’s better to eat something hearty before something sweet.” 

She hesitated, before brushing her dark hair away from her face to lock eyes with Kit.

“I’m sorry…for how I treated you today. It’s just- I was really close to…the last guy we welcomed into our group. I let my guard down around him, told him all my secrets…only for him to turn his back on us.”

Ellie nodded encouragingly, grasping her hand in solidarity.

“You being here…it just reminded me of him all over again. I promise I’ll try to be nicer, I really do.”

He smiled at her - not unkindly, but with a flicker of warmth. “I really appreciate that, Nat. Can you pass the baked rice, please?” 

“Sure. So, as you were saying - what kind of hobbies do you have?”

Slowly, he took a bite of the rice, savouring the melting cheese and tangy tomato as he mused on the question, his mind abuzz with the resurfacing memories of his transient connections

Well, there was that time I played in a band in…1987, I think? Too bad I had to get rid of the lead singer though, I was pretty sure they were gonna make it big. 

And I did drag in the early 2000s. 

Oh, how about jazz dancing? Those parties were really wild, going past midnight all the time.

Moonshining during the Prohibition days was pretty fun, too - the thrill was just too exciting. 

Or that photography studio too, back in 1893…and all that time I spent going back and forth between Korea and Japan in the war.

That reminds me of the time I was a camera assistant at MGM back in the 30s.

Come to think of it, I worked on the West End too. And made Mandopop hits in the nineties, too. 

If he strained his ears, he could hear the song he produced nearly thirty years ago drifting softly from the radio in the background of the now-empty cafe.

He didn’t really know what it was then, but he still felt an inexplicable draw to the activities - as if he was enjoying them too much. 

He’d brushed it off as simply ‘getting into character’, of course, but Kit couldn’t help but wonder if it was something more than that.

Perhaps these were the things he liked doing, after all.

“...I like the bass. I used to play in a band…but that was a really long time ago.” He leaned back in the seat, letting the taste of cream soda linger in his mouth before speaking again.

“I used to dabble in drag as well - now that was super fun. Really wild people, but everyone had a heart of gold.”

He paused, gauging their reactions. 

Ellie was enraptured with the stories of his wild escapades, the spoon nearly falling absentmindedly from her fingers.

Vicky had paused her texting, glancing towards him with a heated curiosity. “That sounds really interesting. I’ve always wanted to be in a band - but I don’t play any instruments.”

Nat rested her chin on her palms, listening intently. “Yeah…must have been pretty fun, right? It just feels so different when you’re the one playing the music versus being a listener.” 

Daniel adjusted his watch, musing on what Kit had confessed. “Drag? I never pinned you as someone interested in makeup and things like that, Kit. Maybe you’re considering being a makeup artist as well? I heard that’s a lucrative business.”

Ellie’s voice cut into his thoughts. “What else do you like doing?”

Slowly, a smile began to creep onto his face.

They’re…accepting me into their group

“I like writing songs as well - I think I gravitate towards ballads. And photography, but I haven’t really had the chance to shoot in a while. The theatre’s always had a special place in my heart, too - I’ve acted, but I think I’m better suited to the backstage stuff.”

“Woah, you’ve done so many things!” Ellie couldn’t help but burst out in surprise. “That sounds amazing! Loads of experiences.”

Daniel grinned, picking up a piece of their pineapple bun. “Are you sure you’re seventeen, Kit? It’s almost like you’ve lived way longer than us.”

If only you knew how right you were.

“Well…I guess I’ve always been someone who believed more in living rather than school. And I’m lucky my…parents supported me through all that. I just decided to go back to studying to get an academic qualification.”

Nat couldn’t help but chuckle. “Of course you had to - we live in Hong Kong! No one’s gonna survive if they don’t get past high school - and if you do, people just look down on you if you’re normal, let alone if you’re an artist.”

Vicky couldn’t help but desperately try and fail to hide a snort. “That’s so true, though. Guess that’s why we’re all going to do art in the future then!”

The table erupted into laughter - and slowly, Kit joined in on the fun.

Suddenly, everything Daniel had said made sense. It wasn’t just the heavenly taste of the food, nor was it the warm atmosphere.

No, it was the people that they dined with that truly made the White Moon Cafe a second home. 

----

“Okay, bye - get home safe! See you all tomorrow, bright and early as usual at the Metro! Sleep well!”

Nat and Ellie eagerly waved goodbye, catching a glimpse of a subtle smile through the throngs of passengers as they boarded the MTR to head home. Ellie would alight first at Central, Nat following shortly after at Sheung Wan. 

She'd never admit it, but Kit sensed that riding the train home with Ellie was her favourite part of the day.

Vicky’s smile lingered as she turned to the group. “So, where do you live, Kit? I usually take the MTR with Daniel to Yau Tong and switch to Tseung Kwan O, since that’s where I live.”

“Oh, I live at Kowloon Bay.”

“Great!” He swiftly looped his arm around Kit’s, pulling him along to the platform. “I live there too - maybe we’re neighbours!”

The ride home was oddly quiet, the silence punctuated by a few quiet remarks. It was subtle, but he could see how Vicky leaned in a little too closely to Daniel. 

The way her cheeks would flush when he quietly chuckled at a video he showed her. 

Everything that pointed to her growing, unspoken affections for the good-natured, charmingly confident boy by her side.

As he watched their interactions, he couldn’t help but wonder how Jentry was doing.

“Hey, Kit - you and Daniel have to get off the train soon. But since we’re friends, maybe we can exchange social media handles?”

Social media handles?

“Uh..sure. But I don’t really use it that much.”

That was true. I didn’t really need to use it in Texas. 

“Okay, cool! Pass me your phone and I’ll type it in for you. You’re now friends with a social butterfly!”

He watched as she pressed follow on her account - a carefully curated gallery of her life.

“Oh, you got a text - who’s Jentry?”

He felt the colour drain from his face as he dove for his phone. “Give it back.”

Jentry sent me a text? 

He glanced at the screen. Sure enough, it was there. A notification, reading simply - Jentry: 1 new message. 

His heart skipped a beat. She texted me. 

“Kit? You alright, man?”

Tearing his gaze away from the screen, he shoved the phone in his pocket, fiddling with the straps of his bag as he avoided Daniel’s curious gaze. “I’m sure it’s nothing - I’ll check it when I get home.”

Why would she text a number she thinks is destroyed?

She raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “Sure. Anyway, this is your stop. I’ll see you all at school tomorrow!” 

"Oh, and Kit -" her voice dropped to a low whisper, "welcome to the group. It’s been a pretty rough start - but I promise we'll be good friends. Me, Dan, Nat, and Ellie."

She smiled warmly, raising a hand in goodbye.

Daniel waved in response. “See you around, Vic!”

Pulling apart, she waved goodbye as the MTR doors closed swiftly on them, speeding down to Tiu Keng Leng as Kit and Daniel made their way to the Kwun Tong interchange.

The walk back to their neighbouring apartment buildings seemed to stretch on for hours in the silent darkness, their path illuminated by the warm orange light of the streetlamps cast against the gravelly pavement.

Finally, Kit decided to break the peace.

“Hey, Daniel…how do you know Vicky?”

“Hm?” He took out his earphones.

“Oh! Vic and I go way back. Our parents are friends, so naturally we spent a lot of time together. She was nice, but I didn’t really get to know her until we both started going to MSA. She was one of the only kids I knew then.”

He smiled fondly at the thought. “Come to think of it, she’s the reason why I know Ellie and Nat.”

“That sounds like a pretty good friendship.”

“Yeah, it is! It’s a great one…and Vic’s always been a good friend to me.” 

Although his voice was cheerful, Kit caught the unmissable hint of regret in his voice.

“Did something happen between the two of you or something?”

“Geez, Kit, you pick up on things really quickly.” He rubbed the nape of his neck, seemingly lost in his thoughts as his voice trailed off.

Letting out a sigh, his gaze lingered on the night sky as he began to speak. 

“The truth is…I used to have a crush on Vic. I really liked her. I never told her though, since she-...well, she made it clear a while back that she just saw me as a friend. So I got over it.”

“Oh, that’s rough.”

And tragic , he quipped internally, he liked her but she said she saw him as a friend so he got over it, but her feelings for him have definitely changed.

It’s a classic case of unfortunate timing,

“I’ve never talked about this with anyone before..,but for some reason, I feel like I can trust you.” 

A warm smile rose to KIt’s features. And now that I have nothing to hide, you can. 

“I’m glad you feel that way, Dan.”

He smiled. “And I hope you’ll trust me too, Kit.” 

The pair slowed to a stop outside of their apartments. “Hey, look at that! We’re here already.” 

Daniel pushed open the gate. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? We can walk to the MTR together.”

“Sure, bye.”

---

“Hey, I’m home.”

David Wong looked up from his laptop. “Where have you been, Christopher? It’s eleven - you should be asleep! You have school tomorrow!”

“He told us he’d be with his new friends, remember? And it’s the first day of school, leave him be.”

 Ivy Cheung entered the room holding a cup of coffee, passing it to her husband with a warm affection as she turned to Kit, arms open in invitation. 

“Kit! How was your day? Was dinner good?” 

He slowly embraced his ‘new’ mother, noting how she smelt of warm coffee. “Hi, mom. Dinner was good! I made some new friends…I think it went pretty well.”

Mom . The term of endearment felt strangely unfamiliar on his tongue - but it somehow felt right in this new life of his. Like shoes one would buy for a child - slightly bigger than just-right, but something that he would grow into.

This woman was now his mother. 

 It still felt a little strange, but the sensation of being loved was swiftly becoming familiar. 

And he was sure it wouldn’t be long before he felt like he was home.

“Well, that’s wonderful, Kit! I’m glad you had a good time. Why don’t you go wash up and get ready to sleep?”

“Ugh, now ? I was going to finish washing my face and everything!”

“Now, now, Ally, you showered three hours ago, you had plenty of time to finish your skincare before your brother came back home.”

Rolling her eyes in true little sister, she brusquely tossed her hair over her shoulder and adjusted her glasses, glaring at him and muttering under her breath before parading back to her room.

Your brother. 

My sister.  

Slowly but surely, the words were starting to feel more and more like instinct.

---

“All right, I will…yes, I’m sure, Dad, don’t worry about me. Goodnight.”

Slowly, he closed the door and let out a sigh he had been unaware of holding. 

The day was finally over.

Crashing onto his bed, he pulled out his phone, idly opening Instagram to discover that Daniel, Nat, Ellie, and Vicky had all followed him. 

Curiously, he began to sweep through their internet histories.

As expected, Nat didn’t post much on her account - and when she did, it was either about her music or about Ellie. 

Kit chuckled. “Not very subtle, is she?”

It’s cute, though.

Ellie’s page, on the other hand, was a riot of colour, noise, and laughter, each and every one of her posts documenting a happy chapter in her life. 

He couldn’t help but notice the highlight dedicated to Nat, a stark contrast to the rest of her account. 

Vicky’s account was very much like herself. Carefully curated, manicured, and flawlessly designed to reflect her image of a seasoned networker. 

Tapping on Daniel’s profile, he was greeted with posts few and far between. 

“He doesn’t post much,” Kit murmured, quietly noting the two-year pause in his posts. “But he seems popular enough at school. And likeable, too. I wonder why…?”

A certain face stood out in the sea of people on his account, however - and he recognised her instantly, despite the time that had passed. 

Jentry and Daniel know each other?

The post was dated in the summer of 2022. My first exchange with MSA at KISA in Seoul! , the caption read.

So glad I met some amazing friends who helped to show me the way :) 

He furrowed his brows. Seems like they lost contact after that.

Kit paused, his fingers hovering hesitatingly over the tagged account. One quick glance wouldn’t hurt, right?

  His eyes widened. Right, she sent me a text message!

…And she thinks I’m dead. 

Cautiously, he tapped on the message, instantly overwhelmed with the wall of text that Jentry had sent in her presumably restless attempts to sleep.

His eyes squinted in the darkness of the room, scanning each line as if it were from the Holy Scripture - words were time, after all. 

I had no idea she felt so much pain over my death.  

She cared about me after all… even though she pushed me away in the end. 

Maybe the message was a mistake. Maybe she didn’t mean to apologise to him. 

But as he read the painstakingly thought-out sentences, he knew it was anything but. 

The sheer terror and betrayal in Jentry’s gaze was forever burned into Kit’s memory after that day with Big Tex.

He chose not to kill her - even though he could have. 

No, he chose to save the one person who he believed truly cared about him underneath the painted skin. 

And even though things were never the same after that, it was nice to know she still cared.

Even though sometimes he wished he never did if he knew how painful her choice to keep her distance from him would be.

He couldn’t help but feel his heart warm at the thought, only to be replaced by a curling frown. 

Do I reply to her or not? 

On one hand, it might open up some fresh wounds, but it could mean a fresh start for the both of them. 

On the other, it might be better to let bygones be bygones.

He thought it’d be better. He had a new family who loved him, new friends who accepted him, a new lifetime full of possibilities ahead. 

Why bring up the past when I have all I could ever want here?

Kit sat up straight, pondering on the possibility of reaching out to Jentry - was now the time? What would he say? How would she react? Would she still hate him?

Maybe it’s too soon, too early. I’ll just leave it be for now. Yes.

“I don’t need her in my life right now. And if it’s meant to be, we’ll cross paths again.”

His voice echoed in the deafening silence of his room, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming in through the window as he tucked himself under the covers, the lingering coldness breezily shifting in the air.

I hope I get to see her again, though. After all, fate has a funny way of bringing people who are destined to be together into each other’s lives once more. 

---

Kit’s rest that night was anything but peaceful.

The first thing he saw when he awoke in his dream was clouds. 

Not again. 

“I’m telling you, I’m sure he’s a reincarnation of that Wong bastard! Why else would our Yellow Emperor have given him the same name?” 

Kit jumped nervously, scrambling to hide behind an ornately-carved stone pillar as he took in his surroundings. 

This is a grotto-heaven. 

Identically-carved stone pillars stretched towards the roof of the mammoth cave, where crystals - pure, iridescent stones that glimmered with the shine of a thousand promises - hung from the ceiling.  

In the center of it all was a stone dining table - long and unwavering.

A declaration of power.

Surrounding the table, he quickly realised, were gods . 

Not just any gods, however. Even from a distance, he was sensitively attuned to the deities stewing in anger in front of him, legends he had heard of even as a new demon.

The energy around Lei Gong crackled with lightning as furiously raging thunderstorms rolled off of his body in waves. 

Lei Gong, god of thunder. 

Sitting by his side was a young woman cloaked in fine silks, chin resting on her palms as her fingers traced the peach blossom carvings in her oxhorn comb. 

Diao Chan, femme fatale of the Three Kingdoms. 

At the head of the table, a man aged well beyond his years, dressed in weighty robes of obsidian as his hands shook with great fury. 

King Yan of Diyu.

Diao Chan was the first to speak, her voice lilting and seductive, dripping with allure.

“Well, Lei Gong, how can you be so sure? This could very well be a coincidence.”

“It is clearly not, Lady Diao!”

“Prove it.”

“With all due respect, King Yan, why else would the Yellow Emperor reincarnate this…puny demon with the same face? That bastard Chiu Wai’s blood runs through his human veins, and what’s more, the two of them share the same name!”

He leaned back in his chair, the smoky thunderstorms dissipating into the atmosphere.

“And he’s linked to the descendant of our divine messenger! I think this can’t just be a coincidence.”

Diao Chan looked up from combing her fingers through hair. 

“That Chiu Wai boy has meddled far too deeply in heavenly affairs. Audrey Chau was destined to flee with her family to Taiwan, to grow up and discover her spiritual ties, and awaken Zhao Yu and save us all from the tyranny that the Yellow Emperor refuses to do something about!”

King Yan pounded the table in agreement. “Instead, that miserable little creature Chiu Wai poisoned her with his dangerous ideas and tricked her into staying - that conniving little rat - and killed her by letting her stay! It’s his fault that we’re in this situation now.”

Lei Gong puffed on his opium stick, sitting up in his seat as he leaned closer. “Here’s my suggestion. Since the reincarnation of that evil monster is a human again - why don’t we kill him as revenge? Make sure his blood spills to pay for what he’s done.”

A cold wave of shock rippled over Kit as he covered his mouth in horror, cowering behind the stone pillar as he clung on to every word. 

Diao Chan's voice crept into the coldness, laced with a lusty allure. 

“Now, now, Lei Gong,” Her voice purred in his ear, slippery and dangerous.

“You and I both know reincarnation is big talk in our world. We can’t just go about saying we want to kill mere mortals just because they might be linked to the soul of the one who doomed us all - there’s always a bigger picture to think about.”

“Diao Chan is right. If the boy - this…Christopher - really is the reincarnation of Wong Chiu Wai, we cannot act rashly.”

“Well, then, Oh high-and-mighty King Yan, what do you suggest we do? You of all people know how badly the heavens have suffered because of that tyrant.”

The old deity paused, considering his actions. 

Kit watched with bated breath as he began to speak.

“Seeing as he is tied to Jentry Chau - the descendant of our precious messenger, my suggestion is this. We strike a deal. If there is a way to awaken Zhao Yu and break the prophecy, we will not proceed with our plans to kill him.”

Diao Chan raised an eyebrow, furrowed in thought. “And if he cannot?”

“We will make sure his blood spills on the grounds of Kowloon Hill, on the ancestral home of the messenger. As for Jentry Chau…she will be chained to the prophecy instead of Audrey. The prophecy shall come to pass through her, and she will never live the same way again.”


Lei Gong scoffed. “So all that the boy needs to do is find a way to break the prophecy and awaken Zhao Yu?”

King Yan nodded, drinking a deep swig from his wine. “Precisely. That task is already hard enough, and he can’t bear to say no to it. Not when he finally has all he ever wanted - a stable life - and when the life of the girl he likes - Jentry Chau is on the line.”

The world around Kit seemed to shatter as the weight of King Yan’s decision began to sink into reality. 

I’ll…die if I can’t find a way to break the prophecy? 

But I just settled into my life as a human…and it’s not fair to Jentry, either. She finally got what she wanted.

The faces of his new friends seemed to swim into his vision - Daniel, Ellie, Nat, Vicky, even Uncle Han. 

Uncle Han. So I am related to his Chiu Wai, after all. Maybe I should tell him another time. 

A swirl of clouds enveloped him as the vision began to fade away from his line of sight, before an ostentatious building flashed into his mind’s eye. 

The walls - once a proud, flawless, ivory - had been overtaken by vines and rubble, singed and chalked with dark patches. The garden and plot were both overgrown, but the interior remained intact. It was a building that screamed wealth, hailing from generations of comfort and luxury from long before.

The words Kowloon Hill flashed into his mind. 

Kowloon Hill. 

Audrey Chau. 

Jentry. 

Family. 

“The mansion on Kowloon Hill!” Kit spluttered madly, waking in a cold sweat. 

For a moment he could have sworn that he heard Diao Chan’s echoing laughter lingering in his mind. 

But when he looked around he was all alone.