Chapter Text
Rin's POV
The rain poured hard in the forest. A thunder there a lightning here. Damn that man. I fucking hate him. Rin was ready to torture that man, she could feel the cuts of Sister Petra’s dagger and all the shit he went through without her. She could feel his dragon. She could feel it taking his mind like the phoenix was taking hers. But did she care? No, if she did she couldn’t hate him so much. She could always feel his scars, what’s a little more? She could feel the connection between her soul and Nezha’s, and it felt like shit. Absolute shit. It felt like he was tying her to him, a tug of a chain. Gods dammit, why didn’t I choose Kitay as my anchor? How had she been so naive?
A sliver of movement. So swift like the cut of moonlight between trees. A silhouette, a tall and familiar one. Yin Nezha. Great Nezha, Vaisra’s poor son.
“Nezha,” was all she spoke. She spoke it with venom. With blood. One name and beneath it was a scar still bleeding out as she was now. One name with only one meaning. Betrayal.
He revealed himself. Rin had to choke out a gasp. Venka said he was ill. He looked farthest from that, no, he looked healthy, strong and tall. His dark hair was tied in a brutal bun. He looked like a general, a king perhaps from an old Nikara tale.
“Rin,” he said, a lump forming in his throat. “This doesn’t have to be hard. Come quietly and no one else has to die.”
She braced her heels against the dirt. “You’re going home in a coffin.”
He shrugged. The rain began to pound even harder, pummeling so vigorously that her knees buckled. She gritted her teeth, fighting to stay upright. She would not kneel to him. She had to get past that rain; it was functioning too well as a shield. But the solution was so simple. She’d learned it long ago at Sinegard. Years later, the basic pattern of their fights remained the same. Nezha was stronger than she was. His limbs were longer. Then and now, she only stood a chance when she got in close, where his reach didn’t matter. Their fight was a dance. They couldn't harm each other without harming themselves. She lunged first. Her goal wasn't to kill him of course. Just to make time. Nezha crouched, whipping his sword out. But she’d aimed lower than he’d anticipated. She wasn’t going for his head—she wanted his center of gravity. He came down easier than she’d expected. She scrambled for control as they fell. She was so much lighter than he was, she’d only pin him down if she caught him at just the right angle—but he slashed upward, and she lost her balance as she ducked. He landed heavily atop her. She thrashed. Rin lift her knee and did a hard kick to his gut.
She recovered first. She got her knee up in his solar plexus once more. He flailed backward. She wriggled out from under him and settled into a crouch. The rain stopped, she realized. The pressure was gone; the forest fell silent.
Rin unsheathed her knife. They dueled for only a moment. It was no contest. He disarmed her first, and easily, sent her blade spinning far away into the dark. No matter. She knew she couldn’t match him with blades. The moment the hilt left her palm, she aimed a savage kick at Nezha’s wrist. It worked. He dropped his sword. Now they had only their fists. That was a relief. This was so much easier, more direct, more brutal. She clawed at his eyes. He slapped her hand away. She bit at his elbow. He shoved it in her mouth. Her head jerked back. Blood stung her eyes and clouded her vision. She punched without looking. Nezha was doing the same.
Nezha broke free of her grasp, jumped to his feet, and kicked down at her ribs. She curled into a ball, too winded to scream. He stomped on her stump. Her vision flashed white. He kicked her in the side, again and again until she was lying on her back, too stunned to do anything but gasp like a fish out of water. He stumbled back, chest heaving. Then he dropped to his knees, straddled her chest, and pinned her arms down with his hands.
“I told you,” he panted, “to come quietly.”
She spat blood in his face. “I am not your fucking dog, Nezha.” He slammed his knuckles into her right eye. Her head thudded against the wet dirt. He wiped the back of his hand against his shirt, then drew it back to deliver a second punch to her left eye. She took the beating like a limp doll, without sound, without response. He punched her five, six, seven times. She lost count. She was dazed with pain. It didn’t matter that he could feel his own punches. The dragon would heal him again and again.
“You should’ve killed me in Arlong,” she hissed. He put his hands on her throat.
“I don’t want to choke you, dearest Rin. You and I both know of our shitty soul bond that you put on us. So that means if you choke, I choke. So please come quietly and shut the fuck up.” He released his grip. A rather naive and idiotic decision for him.
“Well since you asked so nicely…” she kicked him in the nuts, knocking him to his knees. It hurt, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.
“Rin, do not test my patience,” Nezha said warily.
“Having fun being Petra’s little science experiment? I think not, I feel all the bullshit you go through on the table. Except you never got scars and I did. So do not test mine.” Rin was running short on time, she knew it but she wanted to give him one last goodbye. She gripped the collar of his tunic and kissed him at this moment. She could taste the blood on his tongue. The salt and iron. It was far from perfect but it was like one of her fantasies. What if Nezha hadn’t betrayed her? What if they were all still friends?
Oh shit. Wrong move. Why the fuck are his pupils dilated? Why the hell is he blushing? Does he still have some kind of fucked up love for her? It didn’t matter, she needed a distraction whether he liked the kiss or despised it. He kissed her like she was the only thing in the world. Like she was a precious treasure. Rin’s eyes widened at the passion. This is your chance now. To kill him, just like he once did. She could feel the flames around her consuming her, the fire trailing down Nezha's throat. Nezha's eyes widened. Nezha pulled away, choking. He was smiling, while choking like it was some victory. What the fuck. Rin showed no reaction to this. Of course Nezha wanted things that couldn’t happen. Rin gripped his chin.
“Do you remember how you kissed me, that night before I escaped? Do you recall me looking up at you like I loved you? Do you remember the cunning moonlight that contoured your silk skin?” She asked him. She told this like a lover, sweet and tender. She tucked in a stray hair behind his ear. She gripped his chin harder, digging her nails into him until his chin drew blood.
Rin continued after he didn’t reply, still choking.
“Do you recall the feel of the hilt of the blade? The leather of the hilt? How you traced my scar delicately, the touch of a feather before piercing my back?” She said as she traced the scar on his face. How come he’s so beautiful with scars and I’m not? Rin thought self consciously.
“Rin, that’s not fair. You know it hurt for me too,” Nezha replied, his voice hoarse.
“No it didn’t. It fucking didn’t. The dragon would’ve healed you and I bet it did. How long did it hurt? What, a second or so?” Rin said, engulfing herself in flames. He stared at her in awe. He could deny her access to the Phoenix but he didn’t. He snapped out of his daze quickly.
“I don’t know what shitty game you’re playing at Rin but just know I’ll win,” he warned before going for an awfully predictable lunge. His movements were harsh, strong but not precise. He was fighting out of emotion. An amateur mistake. He ought to have learned that at Sinegard. Perhaps some things never change. She saw an opening, he noticed too late. She did a swift kick to his side, launching him to the ground.
“Rin,” he panted. “Do you want to fight for eternity?”
“With you? Of course,” she replied. He was tired. He laid there on the ground. How long has it been? The moon was up already and the sky had turned a dark indigo. More importantly, how long can they continue fighting like this? Rin quickly buried the thought. We can feud until the last breath in our lungs, Rin answered in her head. When Rin turned back Nezha laid still in the grass, tired and exhausted. His eyes fluttered closed. Does he still trust me even after all these months? How foolish of him. Rin went to him and lifted his chin, gently. She didn't need to act for this. It was easy. She grabbed her poppy seeds and shoved it into throat, knocking him out.
***
Nezha's POV
Nezha waited in the trees like a tiger. Swift, camouflaged and focused. Why the hell did Rin have to be so fucking stubborn? he thought to himself. He was still angry at her. Most people lived without the gods. Wasn't giving up her phoenix a good thing? To stop her from going mad? Nezha would've done it in a heartbeat if not for war.
In the distance he sighted a silhouette. The silhouette was short with hair unevenly shorn. He could recognize her anywhere. If he were blind and deaf he would know her by the touch of her rough and calloused skin, the radiating heat of it. He knows her sharp laugh, her brittle ones and her toothy grins. He would do anything to hear and see her happy. He couldn't focus on those now. He threw all that away for the Dragon Republic.
"Nezha," she sneered, eyes set like a huntress. She looked lethal, but not in the way Su Daji was. No, Daji appeared sweet and gentle, seducing you to do what she wanted. No, it was the kind of look that shone with anger. It took every bit of his strength not to let the Phoenix through to Rin.
"Rin," he said, bobbing his throat. "This doesn’t have to be hard. Come quietly and no one else has to die.”
She braced her heels against the dirt. “You’re going home in a coffin.”
Their fighting was a dance. A brutal and precise one. They couldn't fight without hurting themselves, and both of them accepted that. He used the rain to his advantage, forcing her to kneel. She resisted the rain, she couldn't- no- wouldn't kneel to him. Rin isn't the only stubborn person here though. He used the rain as a barrier, and a good one it was. Nezha was stronger than she, but that didn't make him underestimate her.The more desperate someone is, the harder it is to capture.
Rin lunged first. Nezha crouched, whipping his sword out. But she’d aimed lower than he’d anticipated. Nezha took the blow and fell to the ground. She was so much lighter than he was, she’d only pin him down if she caught him at just the right angle—but he slashed upward, and she lost her balance as she ducked. He landed heavily atop her. She thrashed. Rin lift her knee and did a hard kick to his gut.
She recovered first. She got her knee up in his solar plexus once more. He flailed backward. She wriggled out from under him and settled into a crouch. The rain stopped, she realized. The pressure was gone; the forest fell silent.
Rin unsheathed her knife. They dueled for only a moment. It was no contest. He disarmed her first, and easily, sent her blade spinning far away into the dark. No matter. She knew she couldn’t match him with blades. The moment the hilt left her palm, she aimed a savage kick at Nezha’s wrist. It worked. He dropped his sword. Now they had only their fists. That was a relief. This was so much easier, more direct, more brutal. She clawed at his eyes. He slapped her hand away. She bit at his elbow. He shoved it in her mouth. Her head jerked back. Blood stung her eyes and clouded her vision. She punched without looking. Nezha was doing the same.
Nezha broke free of her grasp, jumped to his feet, and kicked down at her ribs. She curled into a ball, too winded to scream. He stomped on her stump. Her vision flashed white. He kicked her in the side, again and again until she was lying on her back, too stunned to do anything but gasp like a fish out of water. He stumbled back, chest heaving. Then he dropped to his knees, straddled her chest, and pinned her arms down with his hands.
“I told you,” he panted, “to come quietly.” stubborn ass bitch.
She spat blood in his face. “I am not your fucking dog, Nezha.” He slammed his knuckles into her right eye. Her head thudded against the wet dirt. He wiped the back of his hand against his shirt, then drew it back to deliver a second punch to her left eye. She took the beating like a limp doll, without sound, without response. He punched her five, six, seven times. She lost count. She was dazed with pain. It didn’t matter that he could feel his own punches. The dragon would heal him again and again.
“You should’ve killed me in Arlong,” she hissed. He put his hands on her throat.
“I don’t want to choke you, dearest Rin. You and I both know of our shitty soul bond that you put on us. So that means if you choke, I choke. So please come quietly and shut the fuck up," Nezha released his grip, not wanting to choke Rin, but to get the message through.
“Well since you asked so nicely…” she kicked him in the nuts, knocking him to his knees. It hurt, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.
“Rin, do not test my patience,” Nezha said warily.
“Having fun being Petra’s little science experiment? I think not, I feel all the bullshit you go through on the table. Except you never got scars and I did. So do not test mine," Rin said to him. The words hurt. Of course he knew that his pain effected her, but Oh Rin. I'm sorry, he wanted to say to her. He wants to beg on his knees for forgiveness. The movement was so sudden and so unexpected.
Rin gripped his collar and kissed him. It's probably a distraction, he thought himself, but the thought wasn't loud enough to register. He held her head in his hands and kissed her with ferocity, closing his eyes. Once he opened them, he didn't even realize he wasn't blocking the Phoenix. He didn't notice the flames going down his throat. He wanted to cherish this moment for eternity. He realized why she didn't accept his proposition of throwing away her shamanism. Because it was her. The Phoenix became a part of her since Sinegard. And, oh Rin looked so bewitching like this. It was so her. Rin was a monster. Rin was a goddess. Rin was terrible. Rin was beautiful, like flames in the hearth of a fire, like a sharpened dagger given as a gift to a king. She was beautiful like a poppy. She was the sun to him. He loved her like plants loved the sun. She was simply stunning.
If Rin could feel what her own flames, she showed no reaction, if anything she seemed like she was relishing in the heat.
He realized with a jolt that he was choking. He pulled away, coughing up the smoke. Rin grasped his chin.
“Do you remember how you kissed me, that night before I escaped? Do you recall me looking up at you like I loved you? Do you remember the cunning moonlight that contoured your silk skin?” She asked him. She told this like a lover, sweet and tender. She tucked in a stray hair behind his ear. She gripped his chin harder, digging her nails into him until his chin drew blood.
Rin continued after he didn’t reply, still choking.
“Do you recall the feel of the hilt of the blade? The leather of the hilt? How you traced my scar delicately, the touch of a feather before piercing my back?” She said as she traced the scar on his face. He shivered under her touch.
“Rin, that’s not fair. You know it hurt for me too,” Nezha replied, his voice hoarse.
“No it didn’t. It fucking didn’t. The dragon would’ve healed you and I bet it did. How long did it hurt? What, a second or so?” Rin said, engulfing herself in flames. He stared at her in awe. He could deny her access to the Phoenix but he didn’t. Her crimson eyes were full of pure hate. He snapped out of his daze, stumbling backward.
“I don’t know what shitty game you’re playing at Rin but just know I’ll win,” he warned her before lunging. How dare she play with his feelings like that? He was a fool to think that she loved him. He was an idiot. She did a swift kick to his side, launching him to the ground.
“Rin,” he panted. “Do you want to fight for eternity?”
“With you? Of course,” she replied. He was tired. He laid there on the ground, his eyes fluttering closed. He should move. But he didn't. He still had some fucked up trust for her even after all this time. The moon was up, just like it had been the night before she escaped. It looked so pretty on her, it clashed against her brown skin, as if cooling her down. The last thing he saw was Rin's cunning crimson eyes, before she shoved something in his mouth. It was a familiar smell. Poppy.