Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Yin Nezha’s joining the Cike.” 

Rin blinked. “Are you fucking shitting me?” 

“Please, darling, don’t swear around the Empress. I could have you hauled into the dungeons for inappropriate use of words.” 

“You wouldn’t dare cross my parents. At least, not my father.” 

Aunt Daji sighed as she shifted on her seat in her private chambers, elegant no matter what. “That is an unfortunately stellar argument.” 

“But why? Why him?” 

One great thing about being raised by shamans was the fact that so long as she excelled in her studies at Sinegard, she would be guaranteed a position in the thirteenth division. It was a little funny to think of it as murdering people who had slighted her aunt and uncle, but it gave her a job. 

The Cike was wonderful. Rin wouldn’t trade the world for it, even if they sometimes drove her insane. 

But if Yin Nezha was going to intrude in on her world again, Rin might have to come up with a valid reason why his very existence pissed off her aunt. Or maybe her father could vouch for her. He was the star Apprentice of the one master her father had a feud with, after all. 

Her mother might disagree, but what her mother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

“Didn't you hear about the accident? The middle Yin managed to channel water to save the civilians from a breaking dam. I suspect he worships the Dragon.” 

“So you're transferring him into the Cike? Wouldn't it be more useful to have a shaman in another division?” 

“That's a terrible way to cover up your true intentions, dear. I thought I taught you better than that.” Her aunt replied airily. 

Rin glared at the Empress. It would have worked, except the very tactics she employed were taught to her by none other than her aunt. 

“Besides, I need you to keep an eye on him. Let Altan know, as well.” Aunt Daji’s elaborate headwear sparkled whenever the light caught it as she shifted her head ever so slightly. Not enough to make it obvious to the untrained eye, but enough that Rin could tell she was worn. 

Rin mulled over her instructions. It made more sense why her aunt had broken the news to her first, especially on an informal visit from Rin. The Yins were her biggest political adversary. Daji’s husband may be from that family, but what was one thing that would drive one more determined to grab the throne for themselves? When their cousin’s on it, of course. Hence Rin's initial confusion on why they were giving a Yin access to the Empress’s black list. They didn’t need to give Yin Vaisra any more ammunition to attack them with. “But why let him in anyway? If you want water control, we have Aratsha.” 

“We need as many shamans as we can, darling. There’s only one fate for a shaman, and it’s the Cike, no exceptions. Besides, are you claiming that you can’t handle your old schoolmate?” 

Rin scowled at the jab. She certainly wasn’t incompetent. She simply had enough of Nezha. And she had no interest in explaining to anyone why so. She made to leave, but turned around just as she reached the door, a final question on the tip of her tongue. 

“Why ask me to bring Altan the news and not demand his presence as well?”

“Well, I’d assume he’s entangled with the Seer. Or have they still not gotten together?”

Rin didn’t tell her aunt that he was more likely ready to tear his hair out, after her former classmate suggested an idea to their munitions expert. 

It wasn’t that the idea was terrible. The problem was the adjustment proposed worked too well, and Ramsa now delighted in setting deafening explosions off every other hour.  

✧

Believe it or not, before Nezha, Rin was not the latest addition to the Cike. That title belonged to a spoiled Sinegardian princess. 

Venka had sought her out a month before their graduation from Sinegard academy. Rin would’ve brushed her off, eager to dive back into her studies to keep up with the school’s regime, if it wasn’t for the desperation radiating off Venka. 

Venka loathed weakness. So things had to be very, very wrong if she was revealing her vulnerability. 

“My father has already pulled strings,” Venka had cut right to the point. “I’m to be married the moment I step foot into home, regardless of whatever assignment I receive from the Militia.” 

Rin paused. That explained the frenzy she was in. Venka had no interest in being sold off like chattel to improve her father’s standing in societal circles. If she were to push her family’s reputation to greater heights, it would be through her own merits. Her goal so far was to be an anonymous archer in a division, where her father couldn’t reach her. Clearly, she had been thwarted. “I’m–” 

“Do not pity me,” Venka snarled, hackles raised. “I came to you to find my way out, rather than tolerate useless condolences.” 

Most people would have cowered under the venomous glare of Sring Venka. Rin merely raised an eyebrow. “You want me to put in a word with my aunt to protect you?” She didn’t bother considering swaying Uncle Riga. He wouldn’t listen to protect one girl. But her Aunt might. And the word of an Empress overturned the blusters of her Imperial Finance Minister any day. 

“I’m going to serve her anyway.” Venka gritted her teeth. “I would be repaying her for the rest of my life through the Militia, if she would have me. She can review my records. I am far more valuable as a soldier than an empty flowerpot of a wife.” She spat the word out. 

A fair point. Given enough time, Rin would be able to convince her aunt. But there was one more glaring issue. “Just because you’re in another division doesn’t mean your father wouldn’t be able to reach you. What if he bribed a general? Some soldiers? Aunt Daji may be able to get you into a division, but she cannot afford continuous protection for one person.” 

Venka tried to hide it, but Rin caught the spark of utter despair and panic in her eyes. “What do you suggest?” 

“The Cike.” 

“The Bizarre Children?” Venka looked incredulous, her fright momentarily forgotten. 

Rin ploughed on before Venka could cast poor judgement. She knew how the Cike was reviled for having no honour and not respecting the rules of combat, but how did people in power make their climb up to the top? It certainly wasn’t solely by any respectable means. Besides, she grew up with the mindset of fighting fire with fire. When it came to survival, dirty play was always involved. 

“They function as the crown’s assassins. Yes, most of them are shamans as well, but Altan wrote to me a couple times. There’s a few who aren’t. No, I’ve met them a few times, they aren’t what you think they are. But they’ll be under the crown’s protection more than any other division, and your father will never be able to reach you. In fact, if he tries anything, he’ll be in hot water. Assuming he has the balls to go against orders.”

Venka went quiet for a bit, absorbing the information on her potential future. 

Rin offered one more tidbit of information. “I’ll be heading for the Cike after graduation.” 

Her classmate eyed her. “So I’ll be stuck with you for the rest of my life?” 

“If you agree, unfortunately so.” 

“You’re confident you can make this happen.”

“Nepotism works wonders.” 

“Seems like we’ll be sick of each other, then.”

“A shame.” 

◈

Convincing her aunt to allow Venka to join the Cike was an excellent choice. Double the archers meant that Qara could take more breaks than she used to, and the Cike could send out more assassins to ensure a job well done. Or kill more people in one night. The possibilities were endless. 

It also didn't hurt that more familiar faces will be surrounding Rin for the foreseeable future. 

Her cousin, on the other hand, had grumbled how every person she associated herself with brought nothing but more problems than not. 

“Kid, that’s enough explosions for a day–” Were the first few words Rin was greeted with upon returning to the Night Castle. No one was in her sights yet, as she was strolling silently in the corridors, snippets of sentences echoing into her ears. 

“Now, Trengsin, my job’s to make things explode, I just happen to be passionate about it–” 

“Chaghan will be passionate in plotting and executing your murder if you don’t stop–”

A third feminine voice snorted, joining the conversation. “You know what else he’s passionate about?” 

Altan did not reply. Ramsa cackled with glee at the implication. Sounds of water sloshing emulated, Aratsha’s amused tone filling the dip in conversation. “Nice one, princess.” 

Rin rounded the corner just in time to catch Venka rolling her eyes. The Cike had accepted Venka as one of their own the moment she joined them, of course, but her aristocracy led them to develop her nickname into one akin to royalty, for they saw no difference — in the words of Unegen, both are richer than I'll ever be. 

“Rin!” Baji boomed when he caught sight of her, waving his cup of water at her. At least, she assumed it was water. Though she would be unsurprised if he was drinking wine at three in the afternoon. “How was dear old uncle and aunt?” 

“Where’s Tyr?” Rin asked in lieu of a greeting, scanning the room to account for the Cike’s presence so far. Last she heard, Unegen was off gathering information on her aunt’s orders. Suni was off on another assassination. “And the rest?” 

The Commander of the Cike materialised from the shadows of the furthermost walls in the room. “I heard my name. Enki’s treating Suni’s wounds. Qara’s outside with her birds. Chaghan’s off on an errand. Why?” 

“Yin Nezha’s joining the Cike,” Rin announced. “Apparently he’s a shaman. Empress’s orders.” 

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t best to randomly drop bombshells of life-changing information on everyone with zero warning. 

Baji spat out his water at Ramsa, who swore — at her news or at Baji, Rin didn't know — and was promptly smacked over the head lightly by Altan, who had his eyebrows raised up high. Venka jolted so violently she had to prevent Aratsha’s barrel from toppling over after it suffered the brunt of her sharp movement. 

“Watch it, princess.” Aratsha yelped in indignation, before he turned to Rin. At least, that was what Rin guessed, watching the blob face her direction. “You sure you didn’t mishear Daji, little Speerly?” 

“You think I want to mishear that the second son of my uncle and aunt’s biggest political adversary is coming to join their guild of spies and assassins?” 

“Nezha’s a shaman?” Venka demanded. “I’m his childhood friend. How did I not know?” 

“Why’s the Yin princeling revealed for it now?” Her cousin mused. 

Rin irritably gave a curt explanation involving the basics of what her aunt had given her, pulling an envelope out of her satchel and tossing it to her Commander, who caught it effortlessly. “The instructions for the Cike from the crown.”

“What does it say?” Ramsa demanded as Tyr picked at the wax sealing the envelope. 

Altan shot her a curious look, not bothering to keep up the pretenses that Rin was, by formality, not supposed to look at the message she was carrying on behalf of the Emperor and Empress to the Commander of the Cike. 

Tyr simply responded by walking over to the shadows and vanishing. 

Venka snorted at Baji and Aratsha booing at the spot where Tyr melted into the darkness, Ramsa yelling a few more insults that resulted in Altan giving a warning glare. “Come on, like Rin wouldn’t have read the contents before handing it over. What did it say?”

Her friend wasn’t wrong, per se. Cracking the imperial wax seal did nothing to deter Rin, for she had replicated it for emergency uses. Her fire came in handy for remelting the wax after she was done with the envelope, too. Altan had a similar one, though they had never gone so far as to hint about it out loud. The less they knew about where each of them hid it or talked about it, the less the Cike knew about its existence. Rin didn’t want to wake up to a fox roaming her room for that false seal to secretly read Tyr’s papers. That was simply annoying. 

But it didn’t hurt if people knew she could peek at imperial papers. It added more credit to her reputation and might prompt people to seek her out for help, allowing Rin to save favours. Uncle Riga might disapprove of how she avoided upfront consultations, but Aunt Daji would beam with pride. To say nothing of her father. He was the one who gave her the idea, after all. 

Ramsa lit up like fuses before the bombs he made went off, demanding Rin divulge her findings. “Rin, I swear to the gods, I will launch shit bombs at your bed if you do not tell–”

“Try that, and you’ll be burnt into a crisp before the bomb even lands,” Rin retaliated without batting an eye. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” Baji pleaded. “What did the letter say? And don’t lie by omission.” 

“The better question is, why isn’t Altan pestering Rin like us lowly peasants? Does he get priority over us?” Aratsha chirped from his barrel. 

Altan glared at Aratsha when Ramsa brought his rioting onto Rin’s cousin. “Altan, don't be mean, get Rin to tell us all what was written in there–”

“Look, kid, go focus on your damned bombs–” 

“I'll limit my bomb throwing time to daylight,” Ramsa bargained. 

Against her better judgement, Rin raised her eyebrows, betraying her surprise. It was a mighty improvement from Ramsa's current schedule of inconsistent yet frequent, deafening bomb throwing. Just to be able to sleep better at night, she humoured him. “Six hours, specific timings to be determined by the Cike later.” 

“Nine,” Ramsa returned, crossing his arms in an effort to look like someone older than his age. “I think best during early mornings and twilight.” 

“Seven,” Altan joined in, giving into the temptation of being able to finally sleep peacefully. “And you theorize only during late nights.” 

Baji and Aratsha remained silent, eyes darting back and forth like they were trying to come up with a better solution. Well, Baji was, anyway. Rin couldn't decipher the murky blobs that represented their water shaman's eyes. 

“Six and a half, and you have to agree to tell us whatever letters the Crown sends to Tyr from now onwards, inclusive of this letter.” Venka retaliated on Ramsa's side. 

Ramsa glared at Venka for reducing his playtime, but didn't argue. He, too, wanted access to letters Tyr received. 

“No,” Rin said flatly. “That's too vague. What if Ramsa sets off a bomb outside of our agreements? There wouldn't be a specific leverage.” 

“But we'll know what the letter says eventually when Tyr briefs us,” Aratsha finally spoke up, the implication that they had the upper hand clear as glass. “And your conditions are a little too vague as well.” 

Rin shared a glance with her cousin, crossing her arms. 

“Mai'rinnen tells you about what she read, and Ramsa sets off his bombs four hours a day for a month.” 

“Four!” Ramsa yelped in horror. “Do you think inventing bombs is easy? I need to modify and test them again!” 

Altan sighed. “Fine. Five. But you better stick to it for a month minimally.” 

Baji grinned. “Now tell. Who's on their next mission to eliminate someone?” 

“The news better be worth it,” Ramsa grumbled. 

Rin settled into a sitting position on the nearest table. “Nezha’s arriving in two days, and we’ve quite a list to kill this time. Including this merchant who’s been trading a little too much with Moag. Oh, and there’s an event some of us will have to shadow.”

“Some of us peasants, you mean,” Aratsha trilled. “You’ll probably be making your debut, along with the other aristocrats.” 

Despite pointing out the difference in classes, his tone was tinged with affection — he bore Rin no ill will. 

Rin rolled her eyes as she slipped onto her feet, now headed to exit the room, Ramsa’s complaints sparking up a storm as he wailed about how little information Rin had yielded after all his bargaining. 

“Where are you going, little Speerly?” Baji called at Rin’s retreating back. “Come back and tell us exactly who we’re supposed to assassinate!”

She wandered the halls of the Night Castle in complete silence until she came to a stop in front of the girls’ dormitories. “You’re doing a terrible job of shadowing people.” 

She didn’t look back as Venka’s footsteps came a little closer as they both entered the room. 

“Good thing I work as an assassin and not a spy.” Venka replied, unbothered by Rin’s criticism. “Do we know exactly how Nezha’s arriving?” 

“Chaghan’s fetching him.” 

“So it’s two couples reuniting.” Venka mused. 

Rin sent her a flat look. 

“It takes a blind man to not see the concerning amount of tension between you and Nezha back at the Academy,” She retorted, crossing her arms. 

“We weren't together.” Rin said plainly. She wasn't lying. He made sure of that. 

“I was there, you know. Kitay said you never told him what exactly was going on, but everyone felt it when things turned icy between the two of you.” 

Because Mai’rinnen Trengsin was a damned fool who had fallen for Yin Nezha — both the bastard and his stupid tricks that led to a betrayal she should have seen coming. 

Despite being born on the island of Speer, her mother, Speer's appointed diplomat, was too occupied with managing Nikan and Speer's relations to be able to raise her. Rin didn't hold it against her mother, who gave in to her father's persevering pleas, she was told, and let her grow up under the watchful eye of the Trifecta. 

Officially, the Trifecta refused to confirm who — or who's, exactly, Rin was, but it was an open secret; everyone had enough common sense to tell that Rin was important, despite her dark skinned that marked her far from the beauty standard. 

Of course, the Trifecta made sure to teach her to expect the curious stares and suspicious eyes. To their delight, Rin had a penchant for being wildly unpredictable, which heightened fear when she swung from complete unfazedness to running her mouth with words so sharp they could draw blood. Or when she simply resorted to violence. That element of fickleness, at least, guaranteed her protection. 

It had been decided that Rin would be sent away from Speer when she was four, to the dismay of her older cousin then. Altan, she was told, had rarely thrown tantrums even when he was little, but when Hanelai gently broke the news to them at the same time, he pitched the largest fit, stubbornly holding onto Rin until he blurted a solution: to be raised alongside his little cousin on Nikan soil. 

His parents and aunt tried to talk him down, but Altan was adamant. If Rin had to leave, he would follow her. 

Hence Altan following her around. Rin wondered if her cousin had ever regretted throwing his entire life away for her. But he wouldn't hear a word of it, so she would never know. 

So, she grew up with Altan watching over her, when Uncle Riga and Aunt Daji were preoccupied with the responsibilities that came with the throne, and her father was busy getting high, it was Altan who accompanied her to sleep on the nights she felt a little lonely. Her older cousin, who had gently encouraged her when she burst into tears as the stress of the Keju caught up to her. 

It became a little harder to see each other when she got into Sinegard Academy and he entered the Cike, but Altan tried his best. 

She didn't blame him. After all, they both had their own lives. Rin befriended Kitay, made acquaintances with others. 

And then came Nezha. 

Rin swallowed and glanced away. She didn't want to think about him right now. “You can ask him what drove us apart.” 

“Maybe I will,” Venka mused. “After all, he’ll be joining the Cike soon.” 

Rin stifled a sigh at the realisation that Venka and Nezha were essentially being reunited as soon as Chaghan brought him there. At least this time Venka and her were on friendly terms. “Don’t tell him how to survive the Cike. I want to watch him sweat at the sight of Suni.”

“Obviously. Who do you take me for? Someone caring? Don’t insult me.”

Chapter Text

“There's no way you aren't cheating,” Baji grumbled. 

“Suni’s watching me! I’m not cheating, am I, Suni?”

“I can see the card you just tried shoving down your sleeve.” Suni said mildly. 

Ramsa begrudgingly yanked the card back out to the hoots and jeers of Aratsha, who had Unegen holding his cards on his behalf. 

“Don’t laugh, Aratsha, you tried to erode an unlucky card twenty minutes ago,” Venka stated without bothering to look up, throwing out her cards when it was her turn. For someone who hadn't learnt a single rule about cards until she came to the Cike, she fared pretty well in the game. 

“Key word is tried! I didn’t actually do it!”

“Rin's in the lead, followed up by Aratsha, and then Venka,” Enki announced, their allocated facilitator. 

“Rin's cheating! I know it!” Baji wailed. “They're all cheating! Conning an honest man out of his winnings!” 

Rin raised her eyebrows as she adjusted her seating position, crossing her legs. “Just admit you're terrible at cards, Baji.” 

“Honest man? Are you hearing yourself? The only liar you're second to is the god of lies.” Unegen sniped. 

Aratsha swirled away in his barrel. “Do we even have a god of lies?” 

“Beats me. But lying should be a part of nature, somewhere.” 

There hadn't been a mission yet, so most of the Cike took advantage of the lull in schedule for a game of cards. At least, that was the official version. Qara was off gathering intelligence with Tyr. The only other person missing was the Cike's lieutenant. Rin would've followed Altan to the edge of the Night Castle, where he was undoubtedly keeping watch for their Seer's return, but she really didn't want to go out of her way to see Nezha's disgustingly pretty face. 

Gods. It had been a couple months since she had last seen him. Despite it being a couple years since they graduated from Sinegard, he had only gotten more beautiful, muscles more pronounced and face still resembling the portraits Nikara poets and artists had tried for centuries to capture. 

Rin missed Kitay terribly, but as he was busy being the pride of the Second Division by being one of their best intelligence officers, the best they could manage was to write letters and occasionally meet the other. She wished he was here with her right now, though. Fruitless as it was. 

Hence why she was joining the Cike for a card game to distract herself. But with all the cheating accusations going on, regret started to creep up on Rin. 

“That's besides the point!” Baji protested. 

“And I'm beside you. Careful of who you point fingers at.” Venka narrowed her eyes at Baji in warning. 

“I will place nine perfectly spaced holes in your head,” Baji muttered under his breath. 

“When will we finally get to meet the princeling?” Ramsa demanded, out of nowhere. “It's been hours.” 

Rin audibly exhaled. “Can you stop–”

“Would we need to bow?” 

“Does he swing both ways?” 

Baji raised his hands defensively at the flat looks everyone sent his way at his musing, taking care not to face his back at Venka. His fear that she would stab him was valid, actually. Especially when Venka had taken to carrying a knife with her at all times. “I'm just saying! You can't deny the Yins are good looking–” 

“Way to go, Baji,” interrupted a dry voice, “You're making us out to be worse than our reputation. Personally, I didn’t even think that was possible.” 

Rin jerked her head to see Chaghan crossing his arms in the doorway, standing by Altan's side a little too closely to be professional. And beside the both of them, already in the Cike uniform and carrying a bag of belongings, was a boy still as infuriatingly gorgeous as ever, shifting uncomfortably on his feet as he locked eyes with her. Rin looked away, too unfamiliar and unwilling to drown herself in the way her throat warped the memories of unspoken words. 

“Our Seer's back!” Aratsha crowed. “Did you bring back sugar?” 

“Are there any wounds ailing the both of you?” Enki asked, already halfway to his feet, snapping into the role of a medic. 

Chaghan shook his head, jerking a thumb at Nezha. “I have to report to Tyr. In the meantime, someone has to show our newest member around. If someone could volunteer to teach him shamanism too, that'll be great.” 

A scowl marred Nezha’s pretty features, but he didn’t say anything else, clearly still trying to feel everything out. That, or perhaps he already had that argument with Chaghan and clearly lost against him. Rin watched as his gaze darted around, taking in the Cike, who regarded him in turn. 

Altan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You can introduce yourselves later. Venka, you can get him settled in.”

“I can't enter the boys’ dormitories,” Venka complained, but she was already on her feet and headed over to her childhood friend. 

“Well–” 

“If you try to preposition me again, Baji, I will cut your balls off in your sleep.” Venka interrupted, fingers twitching towards her knife. 

Baji sighed as his shoulders slumped. “No one here appreciates proper pleasure.” 

Altan pinched the bridge of his nose when Nezha looked over to him, like a confused puppy wondering how he should react. “No one dignify that with a response.” 

With that, he and Chaghan left — or rather, Chaghan went to report to the Commander of the Cike, and Altan followed him. 

She wasn't going to touch her cousin's love life with a ten foot pole, but they really were a little pathetic for each other. Or maybe she just wondered if he could've chosen someone else other than Chaghan, because she bickered far too much to be amicable with him. 

“So,” Unegan chittered at Nezha, who schooled his face into a mostly neutral expression. Nearly. Rin could see the glimmer of apprehension as he eyed Unegan. “How'd we get the princeling into the Cike? Did you know you were a shaman? What god do you channel?” 

Aratsha sloshed in his barrel, directing Nezha's attention towards him for the first time. “Please don't take my role entirely. It's a little tricky to switch jobs in my form.” 

“You could become a merchant and sell yourself,” Ramsa offered. “Though I doubt you're worth much.” 

Nezha blinked at Aratsha, still caught off guard at a vaguely humanoid in the form of a liquid. “You're…” 

“Aratsha.” Their water shaman bowed. “My god's a water one, as well.” 

Venka, now by Nezha's side, murmured what was presumably a brief explanation. 

“Oh.” Nezha blinked. He then lowered his head in a bow in Aratsha’s direction. What a pretentious fucker. “Nice to meet you.”

Rin scoffed under her breath. Aristocracy had no place here, in this unconventional void between serving the crown by eliminating enemies unseen. What was he doing, trying to win over the Cike with court manners? 

Suni glanced over at the noise. Rin stared back, silently daring him to say something. Suni looked away, having received her point. Baji, having witnessed the entire back-and-forth, pointedly raised his eyebrows at her. 

Oblivious to their exchange, Unegan whistled. “Seems like the princeling does come with manners.”

“Why didn’t Rin and Venka treat us with this respect?” Ramsa said with mock disappointment. “Some aristocrats, the both of you.”

Venka rolled her eyes. “Any more respect and your egos would inflate to the size of Nikan. You really need to drop the formalities,” She added to Nezha. “They could do with a bit more humbling.”

Nezha looked absolutely nonplussed. Even so, there was no avoiding the way he stood, tall and poised and radiating the rarest beauty of their country, like the artworks Nikara poets and artists tried for centuries to sculpt his very face. 

She detested that face. Wanted it dead by her own hands, for him to reap what he had sown. 

“He really is pretty looking,” Unegan mused. “His looks are going to outshine all of us. You think we can use his face as bait for our next assassination?”

“Well–”

“Stop fawning over him,” Rin snapped. He was just one boy. How was it that the entire Cike got so fascinated with him? She rose abruptly, throwing her cards down. Anymore time spent in his presence, and she might start yelling at him and dredge up memories she had no interest in revisiting. Not to mention drag the Cike into her personal feelings. “I’m going to find Altan.”

Without meeting anyone’s gaze, she hurriedly left the room. 

◈

“Hey.”

Rin’s head snapped up. For the record, she wasn’t falling asleep. She was getting swamped with schoolwork, and she decided to grab her seat in the dining hall while finishing another one of Yim’s history essays. Third year was no joke. 

Though she did wonder if her dreams were hallucinating when she was met with the neutral face of Yin Nezha. 

What the fuck? 

She eyed him warily. They’ve been ignoring each other ever since she beat him in the Tournament. His mocking had already stopped as well, certainly, but they’ve made a point of ignoring each other so much that things would turn icy and awkward in classrooms. The classes were small, yet, neither of them backed down. 

So Rin really wasn’t expecting him to come by and speak even a neutral word to her face while she was waiting for Kitay to be dismissed from Irjah’s Strategy classes. 

She hadn’t been expecting him to extend a hand with a bag wafting with the heavenly smell of steamed buns, either. Was he trying to poison her? 

That war scare with Mugen had encouraged Venka to apologise to Rin for her shitty behaviour while siding with Nezha back in first year. While she had forgiven her and gained a female friend who understood what it meant to cling to survival in a male-dominated society, it didn’t mean Venka’s childhood friend got the same immunity. 

So what was he trying to do? 

“I heard you liked steamed buns.” He continued awkwardly when she didn’t reach out to take the paper bag. 

Rin stared at him. “Not as my last meal.” 

“What? No–” Nezha shook his head, his glossy hair swinging about. He used to cut it off for the ease of combat, though he stopped recently. For the sake of his vanity or something else remained unknown, however. “Great Tortoise, it isn’t poisoned.”

She knitted her eyebrows. Was this some sort of prank? Did he want to humiliate her? “Then whatever’s this for?”

“I just–” Nezha shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Rin was floored. Did the Yin Nezha just display discomfort to her? 

Rin had hated him ever since he thought himself better than her and ridiculed her for it. It wasn’t anything large enough that attracted the attention of her family, of course. Subtle cruelty and freezing her out, nonetheless. Rin just returned fire twice as hard. It didn’t help that the Yins were the largest political opponents of Aunt Daji and Uncle Riga. 

“I’m sorry,” Nezha blurted. 

Surprise caught Rin completely off guard. 

“I’m sorry for my behaviour towards you for the past two years. It was completely unacceptable.” 

Maybe catching two hours of sleep last night for the fifth time in a row was the problem. She probably had been hallucinating this entire interaction. “Did Venka put you up to this?”

Even as the question left her mouth, she knew the answer. If Venka pushed Nezha to do something like set his dignity aside, there was no way he would oblige willingly if he didn’t want to. 

Nezha shook his head. “I'm sorry.” 

The air was crawling with awkward tension. Out of the corner of her eye, students streamed into the hall — Irjah’s third year students. Kitay would be here soon. 

“Kitay's here,” Rin said abruptly, hastily gathering her research materials into her hands and heading off. 

“Rin–”

She didn’t look back. She owed Nezha no ammunition to aim at her the next time he wanted to mock her for something. 

◈

Rin did not seek Altan’s company. She had no interest in seeing her cousin with Chaghan. If anyone in the Cike actually bought the excuse that they went to report to Tyr — who was still out on that mission with Qara — that was on them. 

She had no interest in seeing anyone, actually. 

Which was why when Suni appeared in the courtyard where she was training, she warned him off. 

“I’m busy, Suni.”

“I can see that,” Suni agreed. All the same, he still lowered himself into a sitting position where her water bottle was, watching her cycle through stances as flames around her burned hotter and bursts of rage slipped through her carefully cultivated paths for anger. 

Suni had always been gentle and kind towards her. She really didn’t want to lose her temper around him, and there was no guarantee she wouldn’t if he didn’t leave her alone. Or worse, tried to bring up Nezha. 

But he didn’t say anything. Just sat in the corner in silence, enjoying the tranquility and buzz of insects, the only sounds echoing across the space being Rin’s movements as she flitted by. She found herself relaxing as the minutes trickled by. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Suni eventually spoke as she finished her training and headed over to take a sip from her bottle.

Rin scrunched her eyebrows. “In the courtyard?”

“In the Cike. You could’ve gone anywhere else, or not worked at all, but you came here. I’m glad you did. The Cike adores you. Altan’s never been happier, and even before you did, he’d bring you up often.”

Rin shrugged, flustered at the compliment. How did one react to that? “I always was going to end up here.”

“Even if it wasn’t your first choice?” Baji strolled into the courtyard, his nine-pointed rake sticking out from behind his back. 

She squinted at him, wary of where this was headed. Baji’s words could have been dismissed as a joke, if it wasn’t for the oddly serious tone. “But it was my first choice.”

Suni and Baji exchanged bewildered glances. “You were so upset, Rin.” 

Rin furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall if her version of events were different. “No, I wasn't.” 

“You were one foul word away from stabbing someone.” 

Oh. Everything clicked. “Separate incident. I wasn't upset at joining the Cike.” 

“So you were upset about something else?” Suni confirmed. 

“About Nezha?” 

Rin really shouldn't have reacted to that. Should have kept her face impassive and shoulders relaxed. But even after years away from him, she had always been obtuse and daft when it came to Yin Nezha, so she betrayed herself when she whipped her head around and stared at Baji. 

Baji had obviously been grasping at straws and clowning around. Her flinch made him reconsider the weight of his words and piece together more than she wanted anyone else to know. “Really?” 

“It's nothing,” the words pushed through her gritted teeth like sand. “We had a disagreement back at Sinegard, that’s all.” 

“Cut the bullshit. Are you sure we don’t need to give him a warning?” 

Suni nodded at Baji’s words, always the gentle giant. “Or you can avoid him as far as possible.” 

Rin waved them off. They didn’t need to concern themselves with such small matters. “No, I’m good–”

“Rin.”

Baji had never looked this serious. He had always been loud and boisterous, full of lewd jokes and small talk that never hinted at any depth. But that was his cover, wasn’t it? He rarely acted solemn unless the situation truly called for it. 

“I mean it. Don’t antagonize him. He’s now part of the Cike.” Rin could be professional. Besides, even if she didn’t like him, they were going to have to co-exist for the rest of their lives now. Perhaps if Nezha begged his father hard enough to get out, she would throw a celebration. As of now, she had to figure out some semblance of peace. She didn’t have to go out of her way to spend time with him, but she could be civil when absolutely necessary. 

“We won’t,” Suni promised. “But is there anything you’d like us to do?”

Truth be told, Rin was surprised why neither of them had asked for the details. But all Rin knew about them was they had come from the Baghra before the Empress offered them a way out to fight under the Cike. So, she supposed, it made sense they wouldn’t pry if Rin wasn’t comfortable with offering them information. 

“It’s fine. Just treat him as you would another Cike member.”

For that was all he was. Just another member of the Cike. 

Nothing more.