Spirited Away

Twenty-year old Judar starves for belonging and recognition after living in his little brother's shadow ever since Aladdin had been born. After voicing his frustration and anger towards a life he curses and an adoptive family that never sees him, Judar accidentally crosses into an unseen realm, a world ruled by parasitic enchantress Gyokuen, who drowns Judar in luxury and worship while Aladdin tries to bring them both back home into their world. Clinging to the power offered to him and ignoring Hakuryuu’s warnings, he learns true strength isn’t seized—it’s forged in Hakuryuu’s steadfast grip, in Aladdin’s unbroken faith, in the realization that home isn’t a place in any world, but a reason to do the right thing.

Notes:

Fun fact but I´ve wanted to write this for a long time. I`ve published a four-part comedy series under my old and new account where Aladdin is Judar`s adopted brother. Their dynamic back than was based on this story idea but at that time I didn`t think I would ever actually write this one!

Chapter Text

"Who the hell thought dragging me out here was a good idea?" Judar slumped against the car window, fogging the glass with his breath. Rain hammered the roof like impatient fists. "Two hours in this tin can and I’m ready to claw my eyes out. Who picks the middle of nowhere for a fresh start?"

Sheba kept her eyes on the winding road, knuckles pale on the steering wheel. "Your father has a new position, Judar. Please try to understand." Her voice stayed steady, too calm. "You’re twenty. We would’ve let you stay in the city if you’d wanted. You had that choice."

Judar snorted, folding his arms tighter. "Right. Choice." He glared at the back of Aladdin’s head where the kid was plugged into his laptop, headphones swallowing any protest. "If the golden child whined even once, we wouldn’t be choking on cow stink right now. He breathes, you jump. Me? Ignored. This sucks."

Solomon chuckled from the passenger seat, flipping a page in his newspaper. "You complain about thunderclouds on a sunny day, kid. That’s the difference." He didn’t look up. "And it’s not that you’re overlooked. We just couldn’t afford the city anymore. As your father—"

"You’re not my father." Judar’s voice turned icy. The rain outside seemed louder suddenly. "My parents are dead. I was just… filler. Something to patch the hole until your miracle showed up." He jerked his chin toward Aladdin. "God forbid that brat protests. Then you’d actually listen."

Sheba flinched. It had always been this way. Since adopting Judar at six, he’d been volatile—wild outbursts over spilled milk, broken toys tossed at caregivers. Yet she’d cherished his fierce vulnerability, the way he’d stare at stars like they owed him answers. She’d known Aladdin’s birth would fracture something in him. She’d hoped shared laughter over cartoons or late-night snacks would mend it. But Judar saw every hug she gave Aladdin as theft. Every "good job" on Aladdin’s report card was betrayal.

He’d been rejected by three families before theirs. Deep down, she suspected he hoarded attention like dragon’s gold, terrified to share a single coin. She’d poured herself into carving spaces for him: "Your art corner, Judar!" "This hiking trail’s yours to explore first!" He’d shrug, call it boring, never noticing the effort. No friends, no clubs—just sneered, "Who needs ’em?" Now, as rain blurred the pine forests rushing past, Sheba forced lightness into her voice: "The countryside has hidden charms, Judar! Lakes, ancient trees… you might discover something—"

"Give me that!" Judar lunged, fingers snagging Aladdin’s headphone cord. The laptop clattered onto the seat. Aladdin squealed, grabbing it back. "No way! Final boss fight!" He giggled, shielding the screen. Judar’s knuckles whitened. "It’s mine for an hour, chibi! You’re just wasting pixels on stupid games! I need it to not die while your mom tries to drown me in stupid heart-to-hearts all the way to nowhere!"

Solomon sighed, rubbing his temples. "Let him have his game, Judar. Here—" He thrust a sketchpad and charcoal pencil backward without looking. "Draw the storm. Channel the angst." Judar snatched them like weapons. " Fucking great," he spat, tearing a page. "Of course you’re on his side." He stabbed charcoal onto paper, furious lines slashing the margin. "What’s to draw? Mud? Sad cows? I hate this already." Outside, the fog thickened, swallowing the road whole as Solomon muttered, "Should’ve taken the highway…" The car lurched sideways—not onto gravel, but onto something wet and yielding that smelled of rotting lilies.

Sheba gasped. "Look, Aladdin!" She pointed through the windshield. Strange silhouettes pierced the fog: crumbling towers draped in moss, their facades carved with leering faces worn smooth by time. "Ancient temples! Legends say people vanish here… swallowed by the mist. Spirited away." Solomon slammed the brakes. The car slid silently to a halt atop a carpet of fluorescent fungus glowing beneath them. Aladdin peeled his eyes from the laptop screen. "Whoa… are we on the right way? Those look… creepy." He squinted at a tilted archway where shadows seemed to writhe. "I think so…" Sheba whispered, clutching Solomon’s arm. Her knuckles were white. "Being spirited away… it means vanishing. Taken into the realm of gods and ghosts because you angered them."

Aladdin’s bottom lip trembled. "That’s scary," he breathed, shrinking into his seat. "I don’t wanna be here." Judar snorted, snapping his charcoal in half. "Don’t be stupid, chibi." He gestured contemptuously at the decaying grandeur outside. "These are bullshit legends people make up because they’re bored." Rain began pattering again—thick, iridescent drops that sizzled where they hit the hood. "And even if it was true," Judar added, voice dripping venom, "nothing would happen to you. Since you’re all holy and pure." He leaned forward, breath fogging the glass. " I’d piss them off on purpose if they’d just take me away from this fucking family road trip and from you."

"Don’t say that!" Aladdin cried, tears welling. He kicked Judar’s seatback. "You’re mean! Stop saying you hate me!" Judar whirled, red eyes blazing. " Never," he hissed, the word sharp as shattered glass. He jabbed a finger stained black with charcoal at Aladdin’s chest. " That’s on you, brat. Because you stole every—" The ground lurched. The car tilted violently forward. Solomon yelled, slamming the accelerator—but the wheels spun uselessly in glowing slime. With a sickening slurp, the earth opened. Fog poured in like smoke as the car plummeted into absolute darkness, Aladdin’s scream echoing Judar’s furious snarl.

—-

Judar awoke to frantic shaking and Aladdin’s tear-streaked face inches from his own. "Wake up! Wake up!" Aladdin sobbed, fingers digging into Judar’s shoulder. "They’re gone! Mama and Papa are gone!" Pain bloomed behind Judar’s eyes, sharp and nauseating—a throbbing bruise on his temple where he’d slammed against the window. He shoved Aladdin away weakly. " Fuck, this hurts..." He groaned, rubbing the tender spot. Dust coated his tongue, thick and metallic. "Calm down," he rasped, squinting into the gloom. The car sat tilted at a steep angle, windows cracked, headlights weakly illuminating a cavernous tunnel entrance carved from dripping, obsidian rock. "They're probably just... checking the car outside. Got lost in this stupid fog."

"We need to search for them!" Aladdin demanded, scrambling towards the half-crushed passenger door. He pointed a trembling finger at the dark tunnel mouth looming ahead. Mist curled from its depths like cold breath. "Look! There’s a tunnel here! Maybe they went in!" A harsh, humorless bark escaped Judar. "Yeah," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he painfully hauled himself upright. "Perfect plan. Let’s abandon the car right where it’s most likely they’ll reappear— if they’re even still here—and just stroll into that dark, stupid hole." He gestured wildly at the oppressive blackness beyond the fading headlights. "Like that isn’t the dumbest fucking idea ever conceived."

Aladdin frowned, wiping his nose on his sleeve, his braided blue hair tangled. "What if the spirits took them?" he demanded, voice trembling but stubborn. "Like Mama said! We have to help them!" Judar stared, incredulous. "Why the hell would ghost-ass spirits want your boring suburban parents?" He gestured sharply at the eerie, silent tunnel. "Makes no sense. They’d want something interesting, not your parents." Aladdin’s jaw tightened. "You angered the spirits!" he accused, voice rising. "You kept yelling! It’s your fault!" Judar groaned, leaning his pounding head against the cold dashboard. "Oh, excuse me," he mocked, exhaustion warring with fury. "Because I’m not respectful enough?! Fuck you, and fuck them! I don’t wanna move to the goddamn countryside, I’m pissed off! If anyone had listened to me we wouldn`t be stuck in the middle of nowhere!" He waved a dismissive hand towards the tunnel. "If you wanna go chase shadows looking for your precious parents, please, feel fucking free. I’m staying right here." He slumped back, closing his eyes against the pulsing ache, the scent of damp earth and something faintly rotting filling the ruined car.

Aladdin shoved open the half-crushed door, the rusty hinges screaming in the oppressive silence. "Fine," he spat, voice thick with unshed tears. "Be angry! Be mean! I’ll go!" He scrambled onto the slick, fungus-strewn ground. Judar cracked open one irritated red eye. "Too scared, chibi?" he sneered, a bitter laugh escaping him. "You can’t even sleep without a nightlight." Aladdin slammed the door shut with all his eleven-year-old strength. The hollow thunk echoed sharply. "I’ve never hurt you!" Aladdin yelled back, his voice cracking against the cavern walls. "And you always make fun of me! No wonder everyone hates you!" He turned and stumbled towards the tunnel’s gaping maw, the feeble headlights casting his shrinking shadow long and distorted before he vanished completely into the ink-black throat.

Judar slumped deeper against the cracked vinyl seat, pressing his palms against his throbbing temples. "Fine, crybaby," he muttered into the suffocating silence, the fading headlights painting eerie shapes on the cavern walls. "Run off. You'll come crawling back in five minutes, begging for your stupid laptop." He closed his eyes, ignoring the frantic hammering of his own heart against his ribs, the metallic taste of dust and something unsettlingly sweet clinging to the back of his tongue. Minutes stretched into an eternity punctuated only by the slow, rhythmic drip-drip of condensation falling onto the crumpled hood outside. Silence thickened, pressing in like a physical weight, heavy and unnerving. No frantic footsteps echoed back. No muffled sobs. No defiant yell demanding Judar follow. Just... nothing. The oppressive blackness beyond the fractured windshield swallowed every sound whole.

One hour bled into two. The car's battery gasped its last, plunging Judar into absolute darkness colder than the deepest well. Panic, a slithering, unfamiliar creature he usually kept locked tight, began gnawing at the edges of his fury. He strained his ears until they ached, listening for any sound – a scrape of a shoe on rock, a sniffle, a distant cry. Only the maddening drip and the whisper of his own ragged breathing answered. "Shit," he hissed, the word swallowed by the gloom. That idiot brat. Always causing trouble. Always needing rescuing. Always making Judar feel like the villain just for existing. Anger flared, hot and familiar – a shield against the creeping dread. "Stupid, reckless little—" He slammed his fist against the dashboard, the sharp crack echoing briefly before vanishing into the void. He couldn't just sit here. Not anymore.

Judar fumbled blindly for the door handle, his fingers slick with cold sweat. The metal was icy against his skin. With a grunt fueled by desperation, he shoved his shoulder against the warped frame, the screech of protesting metal loud enough to make his bruised skull pulse. Cool, damp air laced with decay and wet stone flooded the ruined car as he tumbled out onto the slick, spongy ground. The pervasive gloom was absolute, pressing against his eyes like velvet. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his head and the sharp protest in his weak muscles. "Aladdin!" His shout bounced off the cavern walls, swallowed almost instantly by the sheer mass of the darkness. "You little shit! Get back here! NOW!"

Judar plunged into the tunnel's ink-black throat, the damp air thick with the scent of moss and ancient stone. His frantic footsteps echoed strangely, as if the cavern itself swallowed sound. Then, the ground beneath him seemed to ripple—a subtle, unsettling shift in gravity that made his stomach lurch. He stumbled, catching himself against a slick wall that felt unnervingly warm. Pushing forward, he burst out of the tunnel's end... and froze. Before him sprawled a city unlike any nightmare or dream he’d ever conjured. Enormous, tiered buildings climbed impossible heights, adorned with flickering paper lanterns and glowing glyphs. As he watched, stunned, countless windows bloomed with light like fireflies awakening, illuminating bustling streets teeming with creatures: spirits with elongated limbs and shimmering scales, tiny, chittering beings riding oversized beetles, and towering figures wreathed in steam. The air thrummed with the clatter of pans, sizzling spices, and laughter that sounded like wind chimes. "What the hell?" Judar whispered, his voice lost in the cacophony. His gaze snapped to the waterfront, where a massive, ornate ship, glowing with ghostly blue lanterns, silently docked, disgorging a crowd of translucent, chattering entities onto a pier lined with stalls overflowing with steaming dumplings and candied fruits. Despite the strangeness, the scene pulsed with a vibrant, ancient warmth that seeped into his chilled bones, momentarily erasing his fury.

Below, on a crowded street choked with pungent smoke from grilling fish, Aladdin ran blindly. He tripped over uneven cobblestones slick with oily residue, his breath coming in ragged sobs. Terrified by the sudden eruption of lights and the grotesque, laughing faces swirling around him, he didn’t see the boy stepping out from behind a steaming noodle cart until it was too late. Aladdin crashed full-force into him, sending a cascade of stacked food boxes tumbling to the pavement. Dumplings burst open, scattering fragrant pork and shrimp filling. "Whoa!" the boy cried out, stumbling back but managing not to fall completely. Aladdin scrambled away, tears blurring his vision as he glimpsed the boy’s bright, sunflower-yellow hair and eyes the color of molten gold—deep amber flecked with fiery orange, wide with surprise. "Who are you?" the boy asked, his voice clear and concerned over the din of the market. But Aladdin was already fleeing again, darting through a cluster of chittering, mushroom-headed creatures pushing carts of glowing flowers. "Hey! Wait!" the golden-eyed boy shouted, quickly scooping up the ruined boxes before sprinting after him, his movements quick and determined despite the spilled meal. "Are you lost? Stop!"

Above, perched precariously on a tiled rooftop slick with dew, Judar scanned the chaotic streets. Anger warred with a sickening pang of dread—where was that idiot kid? His gaze swept over bizarre shop fronts hawking bottled storms and animated tattoos before locking onto a flash of familiar blue hair vanishing down a narrow alley choked with hanging laundry. He saw Aladdin knock into the yellow-haired boy, saw the spill of food, saw the boy’s earnest face twist with concern before he gave chase. A familiar surge of protective fury ignited in Judar’s chest. "That moron," he growled, already scrambling down a crumbling drainpipe. He barely registered the startled squawk of a winged turtle-vendor he nearly landed on. The chase was clumsy—Aladdin ducked under low-hanging signs advertising "Spirit Mud Baths," skidded around corners piled with discarded pallets leaking fragrant sap, the golden-haired boy steadily closing the gap behind him. Judar pushed himself harder, ignoring the stitch in his side, his weak muscles screaming. He had to reach him before something worse than a concerned teenager did.

Aladdin burst out of the alley’s gloom onto a wider street bordering the vast, dark water where the ghost ship still loomed. He skidded to a halt, panting, trapped between the sheer drop of the wharf and the pursuing boy. " Stay away!" Aladdin shrieked, backing up until his heels hit the slippery edge. The golden-eyed boy stopped a few paces away, holding up his hands, palms open. "Easy!" he called, his voice calming despite his own breathlessness. His gaze flickered briefly to the terrifying drop behind Aladdin, then back to his face. "I’m not going to hurt you! My name’s Alibaba. Are you—”

"Where’s my brother?!" Aladdin sobbed, the words tearing out raw. Tears streamed down his cheeks, mixing with the oily mist clinging to his skin. "He was right! I’m scared! I need to go home! Please… help me!" His voice cracked horribly on the last plea. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, shivering uncontrollably despite the humid air.

Alibaba’s expression softened instantly. He scanned the crowded street swiftly, spotting a cluster of shadowy figures moving towards them with unnerving stillness. "Okay," he said urgently, stepping forward decisively. "Okay, come on." He grabbed Aladdin’s wrist, pulling him gently but firmly away from the edge and ducking into the narrow gap between two towering stacks of empty fish crates piled high against a rotting warehouse wall. The stench of decay intensified here, thick and cloying. Alibaba pressed them both flat against the damp wood, peering out cautiously. "Listen," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the distant clatter of the market and the lapping water. "It’s dangerous here. Especially for humans like us. You shouldn’t be in this world." He turned his head slightly to look Aladdin directly in the eye, his amber gaze sharp with warning. "Did you… eat anything from this place? Anything at all?"

Aladdin swallowed hard, shaking his head rapidly. "No," he frowned, rubbing his eyes with grimy fists. "I don’t know… Where is everyone? Mama, Papa… What is that place?" He gestured vaguely back towards the tunnel entrance lost in darkness. Alibaba shook his head, a grim line forming on his lips. "It doesn’t matter now," he insisted, his voice low and tight. "You need to leave. Quickly." He paused, studying Aladdin’s tear-streaked face. "Who is your brother? What does he look like?" Aladdin sniffled, "He has long black hair, down to his feet… and he’s super mean." He pointed desperately towards the tunnel’s invisible mouth. "He’s… on the other side! Back there!" Alibaba’s golden eyes widened slightly in realization. "The Abyss Tunnel? Then… he’s not in this world. That’s good. You can just run back through it before anyone important notices you’re here." He scanned the shadows beyond their crate-barricade, where indistinct figures shifted like smoke.

Alibaba’s confident suggestion faltered as Aladdin clung tighter to his arm. " I can’t!" the boy whispered fiercely, " Mama and Papa are gone! They`re here somewhere!" Alibaba sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy yellow hair, his face tightening with a familiar ache. "I see…" he breathed, the words barely audible over the lapping water. "Just… like mine." "What do you mean?" Aladdin pressed, leaning closer. Alibaba shook his head sharply, pushing away the painful memory. "Nothing. Come on." He tugged Aladdin deeper into the fishy gloom between the crates. "I’ll hide you somewhere safe. Then I can ask around. If humans entered this world, Gyokuen knows. She always does." "Gyokuen?" Aladdin echoed, confusion warring with fear. Alibaba pointed towards the towering silhouette of a sprawling, ornate palace-like building adorned with paper lanterns and shimmering silk banners, dominating the waterfront skyline. "There. She owns everything here – especially the bathhouse for spirits and gods. As a human, the only way to stay is to work for her." "I don’t want to stay!" Aladdin protested, his voice cracking again. " I just want to go home!" "I know," Alibaba murmured softly, placing a steadying hand on Aladdin’s shoulder. "I felt the same way." He stared at the distant bathhouse, his golden eyes distant. "Years ago, I followed my mother through that tunnel… I never found her. I’ve been trapped in this world ever since. That place…" He gestured again towards the glowing tower, "…that’s where I work." Aladdin stared at the imposing structure, then down at the grimy cobblestones beneath his worn sneakers. The weight of impossibility crashed down, and silent tears began to track through the grime on his cheeks. "It’s alright," Alibaba whispered firmly, squeezing his shoulder. "I’ll help you get home. And I promise I’ll help you find your parents."

Suddenly, a low growl rumbled nearby, followed by the sharp clatter of claws on stone. Two hulking figures emerged from the shifting smoke near the alley mouth – wolf-like spirits clad in ink-black armor, their snouts wrinkled in predatory snarls as they sniffed the air hungrily. Alibaba shoved Aladdin deeper into the shadowed recesses behind the fish crates just as the guards spotted them. " A human!" one barked, saliva dripping from yellowed fangs. "Unsanctioned trespassers! Seize them!" They lunged forward, claws scraping sparks off the wet cobblestones. Alibaba reacted instantly, shoving a towering stack of crates towards them with surprising strength. They crashed down in a cascade of splintering wood and rotten fish entrails, momentarily blocking the alley entrance in a stinking barricade. "Run!" Alibaba yelled, dragging a stunned Aladdin backwards through a narrow gap in the warehouse wall he hadn’t noticed before – a damp corridor reeking of mildew and stagnant water. Behind them, the wolf-guards roared in frustration, tearing at the wooden blockade.

Deep within the damp, claustrophobic passage, Aladdin stumbled over unseen debris hidden in the gloom. "Where are we going?" he gasped, clutching Alibaba’s hand like a lifeline. "Somewhere Gyokuen’s guards won’t look," Alibaba hissed, navigating the twisting path with practiced ease. "An old storeroom near the boiler rooms." They burst into a cavernous, low-ceilinged space filled with massive, silent machinery coated in rust and grime. Steam hissed faintly from cracked pipes overhead, casting shifting, monstrous shadows on the dripping brick walls. Alibaba pulled Aladdin behind a towering stack of coal sacks. "Stay here," he commanded, his breathing ragged but urgent. "Don’t make a sound, no matter what you hear." Before Aladdin could protest, Alibaba sprinted towards the far end of the boiler room where another set of guards patrolled near a heavy iron door. "Hey! You lot!" Alibaba shouted, deliberately projecting his voice deeper, sounding annoyed. "Found spilled rice cakes near Warehouse Six! Looks like vermin got into the stock! You better clean it up before Gyokuen finds out!" The guards grumbled but turned away, shuffling towards the supposed mess. Alibaba glanced back quickly, giving Aladdin a tight nod before slipping into the shadows himself.

----

High above the chaotic rooftops, Judar froze mid-step, his gaze snagged by a blinding flash of light piercing the oily smog. A creature of impossible grace sliced through the gloom—a dragon, purest white like polished bone, its serpentine body coiling through the steam-belching chimneys with effortless power. Its scales shimmered with captured moonlight, casting fractured rainbows across the wet tiles. For a heartbeat, Judar forgot his panic, transfixed by its majesty, a stark contrast to the grotesque city below. Then reality crashed back. "Aladdin!" Judar bellowed, his voice raw and desperate, echoing off the slick rooftops. "Where the hell are you?!" Shadows pooled unnaturally in the alleyways beneath him, coalescing into distorted, elongated figures that slithered after his frantic footsteps, their presence prickling like ice on his skin.

Judar skidded down a sloping roof, tiles cracking under his boots, and leaped into a narrow alley choked with discarded nets and glowing seaweed. The pursuing shadows whispered, a chorus of dry rustles and faint, mocking laughter. "Shit!" Judar cursed, stumbling over a crate leaking pungent brine. His voice cracked, stripped of its usual arrogance, leaving only raw fear. "Listen, chibi! I'm fucking sorry, okay?! I didn't mean it! Just... come back!" He sprinted blindly through twisting lanes where faceless spirits melted into doorways, their hollow eyes tracking him. "Your parents are gonna kill me for losing you!" The tunnel entrance loomed ahead – a dark, jagged maw in the cliffside. Hope flared, sharp and desperate. He lunged forward... and crashed shin-deep into freezing, black water. The tunnel entrance remained agonizingly close, maybe thirty paces away, but an impossible, silent sea now stretched between him and salvation, its surface ink-black and unnaturally still beneath the mist. Waves lapped hungrily against his thighs, soaking his jeans with paralyzing cold. "What's... happening?" Judar whispered, voice trembling. He lifted his shaking hands – and gasped. His fingers were fading, turning translucent like smoke, dissolving into the damp air.

Panic seized him, icy and absolute. He staggered backward onto a sliver of muddy, forgotten shoreline littered with bleached driftwood. "No!" Judar cried out, voice ragged with terror. He clawed at his dissolving hands, as if trying to hold onto solid flesh. "I can't die! Not like this!" He sank to his knees, the mud seeping cold through his trousers, and buried his fading face in his vanishing hands. The mocking whispers of the shadows grew louder, encircling him. Cold despair washed over him, colder than the phantom sea.

A firm hand settled on his shoulder, startlingly warm and solid against the pervasive chill. Judar flinched violently, scrambling backwards, his fading form kicking up clods of mud. A young man stood before him, silhouetted against the ghostly light reflecting off the unnatural sea. His mismatched eyes – one a calm, deep ocean blue, the other a startlingly pale, piercing ice-blue – held no pity, only detached observation. He wore flowing robes of midnight silk embroidered with silver threads that shimmered like stardust, and a heavy golden hairpin crowned the intricate knot of his dark-blue hair. "Calm down," the young man stated, his voice low and resonant, carrying an unexpected authority that cut through the whispers. "I am Hakuryuu. My mother sent me to retrieve you."

Judar stared up, breath hitching. A single tear, hot and incongruous against his dissolving skin, traced a path through the grime on his cheek. He couldn't speak. Hakuryuu tilted his head slightly, his gaze lingering on Judar’s translucent fingers. "The waters of this shore steal the essence of those who reject its reality," he explained coolly. "Fighting it accelerates the process. Cease struggling." He extended a hand, palm upturned. Not an offer of comfort, but a command. "Come. Time is not infinite."

Judar choked back a sob, the sound thick and wet. "Can't you see I'm dying here?!" He gestured wildly at his fading legs submerged in the inky water. Hakuryuu remained impassive. "You are not dying," he stated, his voice devoid of inflection. He produced a small, shimmering candy wrapped in thin rice paper from within his sleeve. It pulsed with a faint, internal light. "Here." He tossed it towards Judar. "Eat this. Then follow me. Explanations will be given en route." Judar fumbled the catch, his fingers lacking solidity, but managed to grasp the candy. Its warmth seeped into his vanishing palm. "I need to look for my stupid brother!" he argued, scowling despite the panic tightening his throat. "Aladdin. He's eleven. Blue hair. It's my fault he's here!" Hakuryuu didn't move. "I know," he replied, already turning away. "Gyokuen’s seekers are already tracking him. They do not require him. They desire you. Now eat."

"She needs me...?" Judar mumbled, confused. He unwrapped the candy with clumsy, fading fingers. Inside lay a sphere of dark chocolate that seemed to swallow the dim light. He shoved it into his mouth. It melted instantly, flooding his senses with an overwhelming surge of bitter sweetness and a strange, metallic tang that coated his tongue. The effect was immediate and violent: his fading limbs snapped back into solidity with an audible thump, the phantom cold replaced by a sudden, rushing warmth that surged through his veins, making his heart hammer against his ribs. He gasped, staggering forward onto the muddy shore, whole and trembling. Overwhelmed with pure, desperate relief, Judar lunged, wrapping his arms tightly around Hakuryuu's waist in a fierce, instinctive hug. "Th-thank you," he stammered into the stiff silk of Hakuryuu's robe.

Hakuryuu stiffened, his posture rigid. "Do not thank me," he sighed, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his mismatched eyes. He carefully, deliberately, peeled Judar's arms away, holding him at arm's length. "You were disappearing. But now you have consumed spirit food. You have bound yourself to this realm. You cannot leave." Judar jerked back as if burned, his relief evaporating into icy fury. "That was a trick?!" he gasped, his voice cracking. "What for?! What does that Gyokuen woman want from me?! I didn't anger the spirits, did I? Why am I here?!" He gestured wildly at the impossible cityscape looming behind them, his red eyes blazing with confusion and betrayal. Hakuryuu simply turned, his robes swirling silently in the damp air. "Answers," he stated flatly, already walking towards the looming silhouette of the bathhouse, its lanterns casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to reach for them. "Follow."

Judar scrambled after him, grabbing Hakuryuu's forearm tightly through the silk sleeve. "Hey!" he snarled, digging his fingers in. "Who the hell do you think you are?! Answer me now! Tell me where Aladdin is! Tell me why you trapped me here!" Hakuryuu stopped but didn't turn, his profile sharp against the flickering lantern light. "I told you," he replied, his voice low and taut. "My mother forced you here. Because she sensed..." He paused, his gaze scanning the shifting shadows clinging to the alley walls like tar. "...rare power inside you. Magic." Judar barked out a harsh, incredulous laugh. "Magic? That's fucking stupid!" Hakuryuu's head snapped towards him, his expression suddenly sharp, alarmed. "That's not funny," he hissed. In one fluid motion, his free hand snapped upwards. A bolt of pure, crackling blue light shot from his fingertips, not towards Judar, but into a dense, coalescing patch of darkness high on a crumbling brick wall. A sharp hiss echoed, and the shadow recoiled, dissolving into wisps of foul-smelling smoke. Hakuryuu instantly clamped his hand over Judar's wrist, dragging him roughly behind a thick, moss-covered buttress protruding from a nearby building. "Gyokuen's shadows," he breathed, pressing Judar flat against the cold stone. "They follow me. Us. Wherever we go. She's dangerous. She wants your power."

Judar's heart hammered against his ribs, the adrenaline from Hakuryuu's sudden violence mixing with cold dread. "Bullshit!" he hissed, trying to wrestle his arm free, his breath hot against the damp stone. "I don't have powers! I swear!" Hakuryuu's grip tightened. In the cramped space behind the buttress, Hakuryuu pressed Judar's palm flat against his own chest, right over his heart. Beneath the silk robe, Judar felt the warmth of skin, the drumbeat pulse – and then, a sudden, fierce glow erupted beneath his fingers. It wasn't Hakuryuu's skin lighting up; it was Judar's own hand radiating a deep, angry crimson light that pulsed in time with his frantic heartbeat, illuminating Hakuryuu's scarred face with an eerie, bloody hue. "See?" Hakuryuu whispered, his mismatched eyes locked onto Judar's stunned face. I didn't activate that. It's within you. Please," he urged, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper, "when she offers apprenticeship... decline it. Refuse to serve her. You'll have to stay in this world and work for her now that you've eaten... but it'll be safer than accepting her 'promise' of teaching you." Judar stared at the fading red glow on his trembling hand, the raw, unfamiliar energy tingling up his arm. The arrogance was gone, replaced by primal fear. "I'm... scared," he breathed, raw and honest. "What about Aladdin? He didn't eat anything!"

Hakuryuu's expression softened infinitesimally at the genuine terror in Judar's eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. "I don't know," he admitted quietly, pulling his hand away, letting Judar's glowing hand drop. The crimson light faded slowly, leaving an unsettling warmth. "My mission right now is only to take you." He eased back slightly, scanning the alley beyond their hiding spot. "I promise," he stated, his voice regaining its detached firmness as he slowly stood up, "I am on your side. Okay?" Judar nodded numbly, his gaze fixed on his faintly shimmering palm. Then, a flicker of deeper shadow caught his eye – another formless watcher slithering across a rain-slicked rooftop gutter nearby. Hakuryuu followed his gaze, his face instantly hardening into an impassive mask. "Come with me," he ordered, stepping out from behind the buttress with deliberate calm. "You are under my protection. Nobody will harm you." His tone held absolute certainty, a stark contrast to Judar's churning dread.

Judar hesitated only a heartbeat, glancing back towards the phantom sea where Aladdin might be lost, before scrambling after Hakuryuu. Their footsteps echoed unnaturally on the damp cobblestones as they navigated alleys choked with pipes leaking iridescent steam. Hakuryuu moved with silent precision, his golden hairpin catching glimpses of the bathhouse's distant, garish neon sign – a grotesque squid-like creature that pulsed with sickly green light. Every shadow seemed to writhe with hidden eyes, but Hakuryuu's posture remained rigidly protective, a shield between Judar and the unseen watchers. "Where are we going?" Judar finally hissed, his voice tight with suppressed panic, his fingers instinctively curling into fists where the lingering warmth of that crimson glow still tingled beneath his skin.

Hakuryuu stopped abruptly before a towering, dilapidated structure seemingly fused from rusted pipes and crumbling brickwork. Its entrance gaped like a wound, revealing stairs spiraling downwards into utter blackness. "Down," he commanded tersely, gesturing towards the gloom. Judar balked, the scent of stagnant water and wet rust assaulting his senses. "Into that? Are you kidding?" Before Hakuryuu could respond, a chilling whisper echoed behind them – a dry rustle like dead leaves scraping stone. Hakuryuu shoved Judar hard between the shoulder blades, propelling him stumbling onto the top step. "Go! Now!" The urgency in his voice pierced Judar’s resistance. He plunged downward, the darkness swallowing him whole.

----

Aladdin startled as the damp coal sacks beside him shifted suddenly. Alibaba slid into the cramped space, breathing heavily, his uniform smeared with soot. “Here,” he whispered urgently, pressing a small, sticky rice ball wrapped in wilted lotus leaf into Aladdin’s trembling hands. The bathhouse echoed with distant shouts and splintering wood – chaos erupting somewhere above. “Eat. Now. Or you’ll fade away like morning mist.” Aladdin stared at the offering, then at Alibaba’s earnest, soot-streaked face. His small hands shook as he peeled back the leaf; the smell of sweet rice and salted plum was sharp in the dusty air. "I... want to find my parents," Aladdin whimpered, taking a hesitant bite. The taste grounded him, chasing away the chill of dissolution that had crept into his fingers moments before.

Alibaba leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the muffled clangor. "I heard whispers," he murmured, eyes darting towards the boiler room entrance. "Gyokuen sent shadows – her shadows – to hunt your brother. We need to find him first, before they drag him deeper." Aladdin froze mid-chew, rice sticking in his throat. "J-Judar is here?" The fear in his voice mixed with a desperate hope. "Why?" Alibaba shook his head grimly. "Power. Something rare inside him drew her eye. If they find him and bind him to Gyokuen's service before we do... he’ll be trapped. A slave. Like..." He trailed off, glancing meaningfully at the soot-covered pipes overhead. "You need armor, Aladdin. A contract. You must beg Gyokuen herself for work. Right now."

Aladdin swallowed hard, the rice ball suddenly tasteless. The fear was a cold stone in his belly, but beneath it, a spark ignited – fierce and protective. "I’ll... save Judar," he declared, his voice small but unwavering. Alibaba managed a tight, approving nod. "Good. Listen carefully." He sketched quick, precise instructions in the coal dust coating the floor: Down the main hall, past the shattered koi pond, third steam vent left, ignore the weeping statue, knock three times on the iron door shaped like a frowning face. "It leads to the boiler master’s domain. Find Uraltugo. He controls the furnace heart. Only he can grant you audience with the mistress. Tell him..." Alibaba hesitated, meeting Aladdin’s wide, fearful eyes. "...tell him the Coal Boy sent you. And Aladdin? Don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Your brother’s freedom hangs on this."

Taking a shuddering breath, Aladdin wiped sticky fingers on his borrowed trousers, smearing rice grains. He pushed himself up, knees wobbling. The coal dust clung to his skin, gritty and sharp-smelling. He nodded once, fiercely, his braided blue hair catching a stray gleam of furnace light filtering through the sacks. Then, clutching Alibaba’s instructions like a lifeline, he slipped out from the hiding place and vanished into the acrid, steam-choked gloom of the bathhouse corridor, the din of unseen turmoil swelling around him like a hungry tide.

----

Hakuryuu paused at the arching iron bridge spanning the deep chasm where ghostly train tracks hummed faintly. Below, phantom locomotives hissed steam into the damp air. Countless eyes glared from the shadows – spirits and bathhouse patrons alike, their forms indistinct blurs of malice. One woman, draped in rotting silk, pinched her nose, her voice a dry rasp. "Humans. Horrible stench." Judar bristled, his fists tightening behind Hakuryuu's stiff silk robe, the lingering warmth of his accidental magic prickling beneath his skin. At the bridge's end stood a man with a rotund spirit with eyes like polished river stones, his arms folded across his chest as he controlled the entrance gate. "Koubun Ka," Hakuryuu stated, his tone clipped and formal, stepping forward to shield Judar slightly. "I return under my mother's explicit order. She wishes no disturbances. No harm is to come to this human." Koubun Ka nodded slowly, his gaze sweeping over Judar's lean frame, the visible tremor in his hands. "Understood," he rumbled lazily, gesturing dismissively towards the ornate bathhouse doors behind him. "He looks weak." A flicker of defiance sparked in Judar's red eyes. "You look stupid," he whispered back, barely audible. Hakuryuu's lips twitched, the ghost of a smile suppressed as he firmly grasped Judar's wrist, pulling him swiftly past the guard towards a nearby elevator cage wrought of tarnished brass.

Inside the clanking elevator, the heavy gate clanged shut, sealing them in sudden, rattling silence. The pungent scent of spirit world ozone faded, replaced by the metallic tang of the cage and Hakuryuu's faint smell of ozone and clean water. "You did good," Hakuryuu murmured, his voice unexpectedly soft as the elevator began its ascent. His thumb brushed reassuringly over Judar's knuckles, a warmth distinct from the phantom magic. Judar froze, a flush creeping up his neck to stain his pale cheeks crimson. He stared fixedly at the ascending floor numbers flickering on a grimy dial, unable to meet Hakuryuu's gaze, managing only a stiff, mute nod. The compliment settled over him like an unfamiliar, heavy cloak – unwanted yet strangely warming.

The elevator shuddered to a halt. The gate slid open onto a scene of impossible luxury. They stood on a suspended walkway overlooking the bathhouse's vast central atrium. Below, gods lounged like colossal sapphire sculptures in steaming pools larger than lakes, their massive forms draped in heavy golden jewelry that glinted under floating paper lanterns. Lesser spirits massaged wide shoulders, poured fragrant oils, and whisked away platters piled high with shimmering, unearthly fruits. The humid air thrummed with deep, resonant sighs and the clink of priceless treasures. "Amazing..." Judar breathed, his red eyes wide, momentarily forgetting his fear, his anger, the sting of Hakuryuu’s hand on his wrist. The sheer scale, the raw power on display, ignited a hungry spark deep within him – the spark Hakuryuu had warned him about.

"Don't get caught up in it," Hakuryuu murmured, his voice low and urgent beside him. He hadn't let go of Judar’s wrist; his grip tightened almost imperceptibly. "Remember what I told you downstairs. Ask my mother only for regular work. Cleaning. Fetching. Anything mundane. Accept nothing else. Do not ask for favors. Do not accept gifts." He steered Judar firmly along the walkway towards towering double doors carved with writhing serpentine figures. Judar tore his gaze from the bathing deities. "What happens if I do, huh?" he snapped, the defiance returning, masking the tremor of unease beneath Hakuryuu’s protective grasp. "Will she kill me? Turn me into a pig?"

"She won't kill you," Hakuryuu stated flatly, stopping just before the looming doors. He finally released Judar’s wrist, turning to face him fully. His expression was unreadable, but his blue eyes held a chilling certainty. "She doesn't waste potential. Your brother is here, right? Aladdin." Judar flinched at the name. Hakuryuu continued, his voice low and cutting through the humid air. "You ask for power? A favor? She'll grant it... and then she'll show you Aladdin scrubbing floors until his fingers bleed. She'll hold him hostage. Forever. And force you to do whatever vile task she dreams up, dangling his safety as your reward."

Judar’s defiant sneer faltered. The image of Aladdin – small, terrified, trapped – flashed behind his eyes, clashing violently with the scorn he’d nursed for years. He swallowed hard, fists clenched. "I don't care about Aladdin," he whispered, "He’s not... my brother. Not really." The words felt hollow, echoing falsely in the opulent hallway.

"I see," Hakuryuu murmured, his gaze sharpening as he studied Judar's flinch at Aladdin's name. Before Judar could protest further, Hakuryuu shoved him backwards through the towering doors, the sudden motion abrupt as a blow. They stumbled into Gyokuen's inner sanctum – a cavernous chamber smelling sharply of sandalwood incense and ozone. The air shimmered with suspended droplets of perfumed oil, catching light from floating lanterns shaped like weeping eyes. At the room's heart, Gyokuen sat enthroned on a dais woven from living willow branches, her laughter like shattering porcelain. "My dutiful son returns!" she sang out, her voice honeyed poison dripping over them. "And he brings me... a little bird with such vivid plumage?" Her unnervingly wide eyes locked onto Judar’s trembling hands, where faint crimson sparks still danced beneath his pale skin.

Gyokuen descended in a rustle of vermillion silk, closing the distance with unnerving speed. Her fingers, cold as river stones, brushed against Judar's jaw, tilting his defiant face upward. He recoiled instinctively, the scent of decay beneath her floral perfume making his stomach churn. "Such untamed power," she breathed, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that echoed strangely in the vast room. "Wasted on fetching towels and scrubbing tiles? Don't be foolish, darling. Serve me directly." She gestured languidly towards a shimmering scroll unrolled on an obsidian table beside her throne. "Sign this simple agreement. Become my apprentice. Learn to command that fire in your blood instead of letting it burn you." Hakuryuu stood rooted, his expression frozen into impassive stone behind her, but Judar saw the frantic warning blazing in his blue eyes – a silent scream against the flickering lantern light.

Judar stood rigidly in the center of the lavishly decorated room, his fists clenched at his sides. Gold-leafed murials adorned the walls, depicting serpentine gods coiled around enormous vases taller than he was, filled with bioluminescent orchids that pulsed with eerie blue light. The air hung thick with cloying incense and the metallic tang of magic. His eyes locked onto Hakuryuu's stiff back as the bathhouse heir retreated toward the towering doors, each step measured yet strained, like a puppet resisting its strings. "You brought me here," Judar whispered hoarsely, his voice swallowed by the oppressive grandeur around him. "Of course I did, darling," Gyokuen purred, her fingers tracing the polished obsidian edge of her desk before she perched atop it with unnerving grace. Her smile stayed fixed, saccharine sweet, but her tone sliced through the humid air like a blade. "Hakuryuu? Would you give us a moment alone?" Hakuryuu paused mid-stride, his shoulders tightening beneath his silk robe. Without turning, he gave a curt nod and resumed his exit, the golden hairpin glinting coldly under the lanterns as he vanished into the corridor, leaving Judar utterly alone with the predator.

The heavy doors thudded shut, sealing Judar in suffocating silence. Gyokuen leaned forward, her vermillion sleeves pooling around her like spilled blood. "I've watched you for a long time," she murmured, her voice a velvet trap. "You were... unhappy in their world, weren't you? Humans never appreciated you." Judar recoiled as unwanted memories flooded his senses: the sting of cold tile beneath his knees in an empty school bathroom, muffled laughter echoing from the hallway while silent tears tracked down his cheeks. "Shit, get out of my head! You don`t know me!" he hissed, backing into a towering vase, its cold ceramic seeping through his thin shirt. Gyokuen chuckled, a sound like dry bones rattling. "I know everything about you. You don't belong there. You belong here." She slid off the desk, her silk whispering against the stone floor as she closed the distance. "I can give you everything you ever wanted: appreciation. Real power." Her eyes glinted with predatory hunger. "Spirits and gods will know your name. Kneel before you. You'll never stand in Aladdin's shadow again."

Her fingers, cold as river stones, cupped his cheeks. The scent of decaying lilies beneath her perfume choked him. "Don't you want that?" she breathed into his ear, her whisper slithering into his thoughts like smoke. For a heartbeat, Judar saw it – the adoring crowds, the terrified deference, Hakuryuu's stoic gaze replaced by awestruck wonder. The fantasy pulsed with seductive heat, warming the icy knot of loneliness that had lived in his chest since Solomon brought Aladdin home. His fists clenched tighter, knuckles white against his pale skin. "What's the price?" he rasped, eyes fixed on the shimmering contract scroll beside them, its ink seeming to writhe like living shadows.

Gyokuen smiled, revealing teeth too sharp, too white. "Only your loyalty," she purred, tracing the air above the obsidian table where the scroll lay. "Sign willingly. Become mine. And I will shape that raw anger inside you into a blade that cuts through gods." She gestured languidly, and the ink on the parchment shifted, forming intricate, glowing sigils that pulsed with malevolent light. Judar stared at his reflection in the polished tabletop – gaunt, hollow-eyed, strands of his uncut black hair sticking to his sweat-dampened temples. The image twisted: himself cloaked in starlight, Hakuryuu kneeling at his feet, Aladdin's wide-eyed terror replaced by terrified respect. The hunger roared louder than Hakuryuu's warning. His hand hovered over the ornate quill resting beside the scroll, its feather black as a raven's wing. One signature. One step away from being nothing forever.

Judar hesitated, his fingers hovering above the quill's obsidian shaft. The phantom heat of Hakuryuu's grip on his wrist flared beneath his skin, a visceral counterpoint to Gyokuen’s seductive whisper. He snatched his hand back, clenching it into a fist at his side. "No," he stated, the word scraping his throat raw. "Let me work here. With the others." He gestured vaguely towards the corridor Hakuryuu had vanished down – towards the unseen coal rooms, the clattering kitchens, Aladdin's fear. "Scrub floors. Whatever."

Gyokuen threw her head back and laughed, a sound like shattering chandeliers. She dabbed a nonexistent tear from the corner of her unnervingly wide eye. "If that isn't Hakuryuu’s voice talking through your mouth!" she gasped, amusement sharpening her tone to a razor’s edge. "He warned you, didn't he? 'She's using you!' Oh, precious boy." She leaned closer, the decaying lily scent intensifying. "That's not true. I'm offering, not demanding." Her hand swept out grandly. "You can descend those stairs right now. Spend eternity knee-deep in coal dust and spirit slime. Work until your back breaks and your hands bleed. Forget recognition. Forget ever being seen." She paused, letting the suffocating image sink in. "Or... sign. Embrace what you truly are. Prove yourself. Earn the awe you deserve. Because you are special, Judar." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial hush, her cold breath ghosting over his ear. "I didn't lure Aladdin here. I only wanted you."

Pride pulsed hot and thick through Judar’s chest, momentarily drowning Hakuryuu’s silent scream echoing in his memory. Gyokuen chuckled, a low, knowing sound. "You say you don't care for Aladdin... fine. But what about him?" Her vermillion sleeve pointed towards the closed doors. "Hakuryuu. Who raced to intercept you before I could welcome you properly? Who pulled you from the Spirit River’s muck? Who warned you to be careful?" Her painted lips curved into a predatory smirk. "What if I told you... signing grants you access everywhere. You could see him daily. Impress him with the power blossoming inside you. Make him see you... truly see you." She tilted her head, studying the flush spreading up Judar’s pale neck. "Maybe then... he’ll feel what you feel? One day?"

"What do you mean?" Judar rasped, stepping back sharply. His shoulder bumped the cold ceramic vase again. He tried to shield his body – the sudden, panicked thudding of his heart – turning partially away from her penetrating gaze.

Gyokuen’s laugh was a soft, venomous purr. "Oh, darling. Don't play coy." She drifted closer, her shadow engulfing him. "You're in love with him." She stated it as undeniable fact, tilting her head to catch his averted eyes. "Aren't you?"

Judar flinched as if struck. "You can't see inside me!" he yelled, his voice cracking against the ornate walls, echoing hollowly. Defiance warred with raw panic in his red eyes.

Gyokuen merely shook her head, her painted lips curling into a knowing smirk. "No? I can see people's weakness, their deepest, most secret desires. That's what makes me powerful," she whispered, her breath cold against his ear. "That's why I control this place. Why nobody dares question my authority." She tapped a sharp fingernail against his chest, right over his thudding heart. "Don't deny what you feel, what you desire. Because I already know." She gestured languidly towards the pulsing contract. "Think about it. You won't leave anyway. Why not stay here? Sign… and I'll make sure my son is always at your side."

Judar hesitated, trapped between Hakuryuu’s frantic warning blazing in his memory and Gyokuen’s promise. The image formed instantly: Hakuryuu’s stoic gaze softening, turning towards him with genuine admiration, respect… warmth. Before doubt could resurface, Judar snatched the obsidian quill. His hand trembled violently as he scrawled his name across the pulsing parchment. The ink hissed like acid, burrowing into the paper with a scent of burnt ozone and crushed violets. An icy chill shot up his arm, settling deep in his bones. "Good decision," Gyokuen purred, her satisfaction thick as syrup. "Run along now. Hakuryuu?" The door slid open instantly. Hakuryuu stood frozen, his blue eyes locked on the signature curling like smoke.

"Fool!" The word hissed from Hakuryuu’s lips the moment the office door sealed shut behind them, sharp as a knife. He grabbed Judar’s wrist, fingers digging into the flesh where Gyokuen’s cold grip had rested moments before. "What did you do?! You swore she couldn’t lure you with Aladdin!" Judar jerked his arm free, avoiding Hakuryuu’s furious gaze. "She didn’t," he muttered, staring at the ornate corridor wall. A tiny, dust-gray mouse skittered onto Hakuryuu’s shoulder, followed by a sleek black cat rubbing against his leg. Judar’s forced grin felt brittle. "Oh, cute," he deflected, crouching to scratch the cat behind its ears. Its purr was a low, unsettling rumble like distant thunder. "Yours?" Hakuryuu sighed, weariness replacing anger. "They just… follow. Always." "They like you," Judar shrugged, straightening up. The cat’s eyes held an unnerving intelligence. He shoved the thought away. "So. What now?"

The cat suddenly arched its back, fur bristling, a low growl vibrating in its throat. Hakuryuu stiffened. "Now," he said, voice low and urgent, steering Judar firmly away from Gyokuen’s door towards a narrower, plainer hallway smelling faintly of damp stone and bleach, "you survive."

----

Aladdin gripped the splintered banister, knuckles white. Each step groaned beneath his threadbare shoes. Don't look down, he chanted silently, heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The air grew thick with steam and the sharp tang of medicinal herbs. Below, the bathhouse thrummed like a living beast, filled with shouts and clattering dishes – a world away from Solomon's quiet car. Ahead, a small, unassuming door stood ajar. With a final shaky breath, Aladdin pushed it open.

The air inside was stiflingly hot and smelled of crushed pine needles. A colossal blue figure sat hunched at the room's center, its three gentle eyes scanning a complex loom woven not of thread, but shimmering strands of light. Dark-blue hair cascaded down its neck. "Dried willow bark... crushed moonstone..." it murmured softly, immense fingers manipulating the luminous strands. Small, featureless white figures, only eyes visible in their snowy forms, scurried silently around its feet, hauling chunks of glowing coal into a roaring furnace that pulsed with unnatural heat. "A-Alibaba sent me!" Aladdin squeaked, clutching the crumpled note tighter. The giant being, Uraltugo, didn't even glance his way, its focus entirely on weaving a shimmering order slip for medicinal herbs. Aladdin swallowed hard, gathering his courage. "I need to see Gyokuen!" he declared, louder this time. Uraltugo let out a deep sigh that ruffled Aladdin's braided hair. The door creaked open.

A young woman stepped in, her expression as flat as untouched snow. She moved with unsettling silence. "Morgiana," Uraltugo's voice rumbled like distant thunder, "Take him away. Alibaba sent him." Morgiana's dark eyes flickered towards Aladdin, sharpening slightly. Her lips didn't move, but her gaze asked the silent question. "Are you... the human Gyokuen wants? Judar?" Her voice was soft, barely audible over the furnace's roar. "That's my brother!" Aladdin burst out, desperation cracking his voice. "Please, I need to see him! I need work! Alibaba said I should ask Ugo!" A soft, unexpected chuckle, like stones tumbling gently, came from the giant. "Ugo..." Uraltugo murmured, a ghost of a smile touching its broad lips. Its third eye blinked slowly. "I remember Alibaba called me that too. He was your age when he arrived... trembling, saying he'd rescue his parents, but..." The giant trailed off, its massive hand pausing over the luminous loom, the light dimming for a heartbeat. "He never left."

"Poor boy..." Aladdin echoed softly, then clenched his small fists, forcing courage into his trembling voice. " Help me too! I will make it! I swear!" He stared up into Uraltugo's three gentle eyes, ignoring the wavering heat shimmer and the unsettlingly intelligent gaze of the coal-carrying white figures. The giant studied him for a long moment, the air thick with steam and pine resin. Finally, Uraltugo gave Morgiana a slow, deliberate nod. "Alright," its voice resonated with weary acceptance. "Lead him the way." Morgiana motioned sharply for Aladdin to follow. As Aladdin stumbled after her swift steps, Uraltugo sighed again, a sound like wind through caverns, and turned back to the shimmering threads. "I'm busy here," it murmured, almost to itself, its immense fingers resuming their intricate dance with the light, weaving destinies Aladdin couldn't yet fathom. Morgiana pulled him out into the corridor. The noise of the bathhouse washed over them—shouts, splashes, clanging bells—a chaotic symphony he didn't understand yet. She stopped before a smaller, unmarked door smelling sharply of ammonia and damp wood.

"Are you also a friend of Alibaba?" Aladdin asked, curious, clinging to Morgiana's arm in fear as a girl shoved him aside roughly. Her hair was long and dark-red, tied back fiercely with twine. "Move, brat!" the girl scolded him, struggling under a mountain of fluffy white towels taller than she was. Her eyes were sharp and impatient. "We are sorry," Morgiana murmured instantly, bowing low. "No!" Aladdin frowned indignantly, rubbing his shoulder where she'd bumped him. "She ran into me!" Morgiana's hand shot out, not roughly but firmly, pushing him behind her toward the wall. "Kougyoku's family owns this place," Morgiana stated flatly, her dark eyes locking onto Aladdin's, devoid of apology. "If you want to work here, she will be your boss. Understood?" Aladdin swallowed his protest, the scent of clean linen and the girl's sharp glare overwhelming him. "Understood," he whispered, defeated. His gaze drifted past Morgiana's shoulder just as the girl stomped away. He spotted Alibaba further down the bustling corridor, effortlessly balancing trays piled with steaming dishes. Alibaba was smiling brightly—painfully bright—as a fat, bald man with a crimson face berated him, jabbing a thick finger near his eye. Alibaba bowed lower, his smile unwavering, but Aladdin saw the tightness in his knuckles gripping the tray. "He lost all the respect for himself," Morgiana said softly, her voice barely audible over the din, yet heavy with sorrow. "Only to stay. To save his parents." Her jaw tightened. "It's... disappointing." Aladdin frowned, his small face hardening as he watched his new friend absorb the insult without flinching. The heavy scent of boiled seaweed and sweat filled his nostrils. Determination burned away his fear. "Take me to Gyokuen," he ordered Morgiana, his voice surprisingly firm. Morgiana studied him for a heartbeat, then gave a single sharp nod. "Come," she said, turning toward a set of ornate brass elevator doors etched with twisting serpent motifs. She pressed a button, and the doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing plush crimson velvet walls smelling faintly of dust and forgotten perfume. Aladdin stepped inside beside Morgiana, the doors closing silently behind them, sealing them into the quiet, upward-moving box. Outside, the echoing shouts faded, replaced only by the low hum of machinery and his own frantic heartbeat.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft sigh, revealing a corridor bathed in warm, golden light. Aladdin stepped out cautiously, his worn shoes sinking into thick ivory carpet softer than moss. He blinked, overwhelmed. The hallway stretched impossibly far, lined with shimmering silk tapestries depicting frolicking spirits under impossible constellations. Crystal chandeliers dripping with prismatic jewels cast fragmented rainbows on walls paneled with fragrant, dark wood polished to a mirror shine. The air smelled faintly of exotic spices and something unsettlingly sweet, like rotting fruit masked by incense. He turned slowly, gaping at the sheer size and opulence—rooms visible through arched doorways held furniture carved from gleaming obsidian and ivory, piled high with cushions of jewel-toned silk. Morgiana pressed a button inside the elevator, and the doors began to slide shut. "Wait!" Aladdin cried out, stumbling towards her. "You don't come with me?!" Morgiana's dark eyes met his through the narrowing gap. " Ugo is a god," she stated flatly, her voice devoid of inflection. " He told me to bring you here on Alibaba's behalf. Nothing more." The doors clicked shut. "Good luck." The elevator hummed softly and descended smoothly, leaving Aladdin utterly alone in the vast, echoing silence. He swallowed hard, mouth suddenly dry. The silence pressed in, thick and heavy, broken only by the muffled thump of his own heart. He forced himself to take a step forward, then another, walking cautiously and slow. Suddenly, a sharp, invisible force shoved him firmly between the shoulder blades. Aladdin yelped, stumbling forward several clumsy paces—and pitched headlong through a pair of towering, obsidian doors carved with sinuous dragons, crashing onto the cool marble floor of an enormous office.

He scrambled to his knees, panting. The room was cavernous, dominated by a colossal desk carved from a single slab of glittering black stone. Behind it sat an elegant woman draped in robes of liquid vermillion silk, meticulously painting her fingernails a deep, venomous crimson. Her face was a mask of porcelain perfection framed by sleek raven hair. Aladdin froze, staring. "I... you're—!" he stammered, pointing a trembling finger. Without looking up, the woman—Gyokuen—made a casual flicking gesture with her free hand. Instantly, Aladdin's lips sealed shut as if fused by warm wax. He clawed helplessly at his mouth, eyes wide with panic. "I know who you are," Gyokuen sighed, examining her perfect nails, her voice smooth as poisoned honey. "And precisely what you want. Frankly, I'd rather have you killed or sold to a spirit-run restaurant. But," she finally lifted her gaze, her dark eyes cold and calculating, "luckily for you, I need you alive. For Judar's sake. Who knows when a sentimental human like him might suddenly yearn for his dear brother?" A dismissive wave. "Not that I care, of course. But it's tidier with you conveniently close." She slid a parchment scroll towards him across the obsidian surface. Golden ink pulsed within intricate sigils. "Sign. You'll labor here. That is what you desire, isn't it?"

Aladdin remained rooted to the cold marble floor, shaking his head fiercely. He gestured frantically towards his sealed lips. Gyokuen arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, then snapped her fingers with a sound like cracking ice. Aladdin gasped as his mouth opened freely again, the phantom sensation of wax dissolving. "W-where's my brother?" he demanded, voice raspy but steady, pushing himself upright. Gyokuen leaned back, a predatory smile playing on her lips. "You can't see him yet. But rest assured, he's... flourishing." Her tone dripped false sweetness. "In fact, I have a generous proposal. You'll return to your dull little world. You'll forget Judar ever existed. Your dear parents will be restored to you." She steepled her crimson-tipped fingers. "Even though you've consumed spirit food, I possess the power to send you back." Her smile sharpened. "The alternative? You remain here, scrubbing floors until your bones turn to dust." Aladdin squared his shoulders, tiny fists clenched. "I want to see Judar now."

Gyokuen chuckled, a low, unsettling sound that echoed faintly in the vast office. "Why?" she purred, tilting her head. "Because your final words to him were laced with childish hatred? You cling to a bond he rejects." She leaned forward, her shadow seeming to stretch and deepen. "He loathes you. Doesn't even acknowledge you as family. Why waste your breath chasing his shadow?" Aladdin didn't flinch. He stepped forward, grabbed the heavy obsidian quill lying beside the contract. Its surface felt unnaturally cold. He met Gyokuen's calculating gaze squarely. "If he truly doesn't care," Aladdin countered, his voice surprisingly strong, "why are you so desperate to remove me? Why offer this escape?" He thrust the quill towards the parchment. "There's no reason to help me get home unless you're afraid."

Gyokuen threw back her head and laughed, a rich, resonant sound devoid of genuine warmth. "Clever boy!" she declared, genuine amusement flickering in her eyes for a split second. "I did harbor doubts." She watched, hawk-like, as Aladdin scratched his name onto the pulsing parchment. The golden sigils flared brightly as ink met paper, binding him. "But it changes nothing," she added smoothly, swiftly snatching the signed contract away. "Go down. Report to my daughter, Hakuei." She gestured dismissively towards the elevator doors. "She'll instruct you." Her smile was razor-thin. "Then," she concluded, her tone hardening, "you may work... relentlessly." Aladdin nodded sharply, defiance burning in his blue eyes. "I will find Judar," he vowed. "And I will bring him home." Gyokuen's smile vanished instantly, replaced by chilling indifference. "This is his home now," she stated, her voice flat and final. "I am." With a sharp flick of her wrist, an invisible force slammed into Aladdin's chest. He stumbled backward, gasping, propelled helplessly into the waiting elevator. The brass doors hissed shut before he could utter another word, plunging him into sudden gloom. The car lurched violently downwards, the sickening pull of gravity pressing him against the cold wall as the bathhouse swallowed him once more.

The elevator jarred to a halt in a dimly lit corridor smelling of damp towels and stale incense. Aladdin stumbled out, blinking in the gloom, his heart still pounding from the sudden descent. A young woman stood waiting near a steaming pipe, her silhouette illuminated by a flickering wall sconce. Her resemblance to Gyokuen was striking – the same raven hair and fine bone structure – but softened. She wore a simple, practical indigo robe, her hair falling freely past her waist, a stark contrast to her mother’s intricate silks. Her smile was warm, unexpectedly kind. "You caused quite a turmoil," she greeted him softly, her voice gentle like wind chimes. "I'm Hakuei. My mother told me you'd arrive here." She tilted her head, observing him with curious, intelligent eyes. "I'll show you around, if you want." Aladdin nodded mutely, relief washing over him at the unexpected kindness. He hesitated, his voice barely a whisper. "H-have you... seen Judar?" Hakuei blinked, genuinely perplexed. "Who?" she asked, her brow furrowing slightly. "I don't know who that is." She offered another reassuring smile. "Even though I'm Gyokuen's daughter, I work down here with everyone else. I don't know much about who arrives or who leaves." Aladdin frowned, confusion warring with disappointment. "But I thought... nobody wants to be down here?" Hakuei gave a light shrug, her expression serene. "My brother said it's better for me to stay out of the family business," she explained as she turned and began walking along a row of enormous, steaming tubs carved from dark stone. Aladdin hurried to follow. "And I very much enjoy it," Hakuei added, her voice carrying genuine contentment. She paused by a vast tub overflowing with fragrant bubbles. A colossal blue-skinned woman reclined within, her massive golden bracelets gleaming. Silk ribbons draped over her immense form, leaving her large breasts exposed. "Good afternoon, Paimon," Hakuei greeted warmly. The giantess lazily opened one sapphire eye. "A human," Paimon rumbled, lips curving into a delighted grin. "Interesting." Hakuei patted the giant's massive forearm. "Be nice to him," she instructed gently. "He's new here. Probably misses his home." She turned back to Aladdin. "Come, Aladdin. Follow me." Her voice was crisp now, practical. "You'll clean a used room now." She gestured towards a dark corridor branching off the main bath hall, smelling sharply of ammonia and spilled sake.

Hakuei led Aladdin down the narrow corridor, stepping over discarded towels stained with unidentifiable fluids. They stopped before a small, unmarked door. Hakuei slid it open. Inside was a cramped, windowless cubicle reeking of mildew and vomit. An impossibly filthy tub dominated the space, its dark stone coated in thick, drying slime and clumps of matted hair. Muddy footprints tracked across the wooden floor, and patches of wild grass seemed to have sprouted overnight from cracks in the grout. Hakuei wrinkled her nose faintly. "This is yours," she stated flatly, her earlier kindness replaced by brisk efficiency. "Clean it." She handed him a worn bamboo broom with sparse, brittle bristles and departed swiftly, her footsteps fading quickly down the hall. Aladdin stared into the filthy pit, heart sinking. Suddenly, the doorway filled with figures – a cluster of bathhouse workers, their faces hardened and weary. They peered inside, their whispers sharp and mocking. "Look at that mess!" "He'll never clean that." "Useless," spat one lanky attendant with greasy hair, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. " Bet he cries for mama." Behind them stood Budel, the fat, crimson-faced man who had earlier berated Alibaba. He peered over the shoulders of the workers, his small eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Eh?" he chuckled, his jowls quivering. "Little runt? Think you can handle a real job?" Behind Budel, barely visible, stood Morgiana. Her expression was utterly blank, her dark eyes fixed on Aladdin with the same impassive gaze she'd worn earlier. Clenching his jaw, Aladdin gripped the pathetic broom tighter. He remembered his promise – work hard, endure, find Judar. He plunged the bristles into the thick sludge coating the tub rim. The broom bent weakly, barely scraping the surface. He scrubbed harder, pushing with all his slight weight, but the grime clung stubbornly. Mud squelched under his worn shoes. Budel snorted. "See? Useless!" The workers snickered louder. Aladdin ignored them, focusing on a patch of dried mud near his foot, scraping furiously. Work hard, he repeated silently. Find him.

Later, perched precariously on a stool far too high, Aladdin struggled to pour steaming sake from a heavy ceramic jug into Budel's ornate cup. The jug wobbled in his small hands. Budel reeked sharply of alcohol and sweat as he reclined beside a steaming pool, slurping noodles loudly. " More!" he commanded without looking up. Just then, Alibaba entered carrying another tray laden with dishes. His eyes widened slightly seeing Aladdin's precarious position. As Alibaba navigated the slippery tiles near Budel, his foot slid on a slick patch. He stumbled. The tray tilted violently. A cascade of noodles, broth, and a small bowl of pungent dipping sauce flew through the air, splattering across Budel's silk robe. The fat man roared, jumping up as oily broth soaked his chest. " USELESS PIECE OF TRASH!" Budel screamed, his face purpling. Before Alibaba could react, Budel snatched a bamboo cane leaning against the pool's edge – thin, whippy, and stained dark. He lashed out viciously, the cane cracking against Alibaba's shoulder. Alibaba flinched but didn't cry out, staring blankly at the spilled tray. "S-sorry, Master Budel," Alibaba stammered, forcing a tight, trembling smile onto his lips. "I'll bring you a new serving immediately." He started to bend down to pick up the scattered crockery. Budel raised the cane again. "Leave him alone!" Aladdin yelled, scrambling down from the stool, his small hands clenched into fists. "He didn't mean it! He's my friend!"

Budel froze mid-strike, his cane trembling in the air as he slowly turned his furious glare towards Aladdin. The bathhouse workers fell silent, their mocking whispers dying instantly. "Friend?" Budel hissed, the word dripping with venomous amusement. "You dare talk to my slave?!" He shoved Alibaba violently towards the filthy cubicle; the boy stumbled and landed hard on his knees in the mud-smeared floor, his forced smile never wavering even as sludge coated his trousers. "Help your 'friend', Alibaba," Budel snarled, saliva spraying. "Maybe you can scrub filth better than you serve me." The doors slammed shut behind him, plunging the boys into the stinking gloom of the uncleaned room.

Aladdin rushed to Alibaba's side, offering a hand, but Alibaba waved him off, pushing himself up with quiet dignity. "Understood, Master," he whispered to the closed door, his voice perfectly steady. He picked up the worn broom Aladdin had dropped, its bristles frayed and useless against the hardened grime. Only then did Aladdin see the raw, bleeding welts rising on Alibaba's shoulder beneath his thin robe. "Why?" Aladdin choked out, pointing at the welts. "Why smile when he hurts you? That's not right." Alibaba didn't look up, his focus entirely on scraping futilely at a patch of dried mud with the broom handle. "Smiling costs nothing," he murmured, his voice flat. "Anger costs everything." He jerked his chin subtly upwards, towards Gyokuen's distant office. "I sold myself to this place, there`s nothing I can do. Compliance is easier than resistance."

Aladdin frowned, staring at the raw, bleeding stripes marring Alibaba's shoulder. "That's stupid," he blurted out, the harshness of the words surprising even him. Then, unexpectedly, a small, bittersweet smile touched his lips. "That's what Judar would say. Total bullshit." He snatched the useless broom from Alibaba's hands and threw it clattering against the slime-coated wall. "You deserve better than being treated like this! Working here doesn't mean you're a slave and someone's property!" Alibaba froze mid-scrape, finally lifting his gaze. His eyes, usually so guarded, widened fractionally. "Your brother," he breathed, a flicker of something like envy crossing his face, "would say that?" Aladdin's smile vanished. "Not really," he admitted softly, the memory of Judar's cold dismissal sharpening his voice. "He'd probably call you pathetic. For sacrificing your dignity just to spare yourself from Budel's anger." He gestured at the filthy room, the overwhelming stench of ammonia and rotting food thickening the air. "And," Aladdin added with a heavy sigh, kicking at a clump of moldering rice, "he'd be right about one thing. We won't be able to clean all of this." Alibaba stared at the impossible mess, then slowly nodded, a spark of rebellion igniting in his weary eyes. "Not without Ugo's help," he murmured, a plan forming. "We need hot water. Real hot. And herbs. Strong herbs." He pointed towards the steaming pipes snaking overhead. "From the boiler room. Then... then we can scrub this place clean." Aladdin smiled fiercely, the challenge suddenly less daunting. "Properly."

----

Judar perched precariously on the stone balustrade of Gyokuen's highest tower, legs dangling over the dizzying drop. Below, Alma Torran pulsed with chaotic magic—spirits darting like fireflies between floating lanterns, rivers of liquid starlight weaving through the bathhouse's steam-belching chimneys. He tilted his face towards the impossible sky, where twin moons cast shifting silver patterns on his pale skin. "What are you doing?" Hakuryuu's voice cut through the night's hum as he stepped onto the balcony, balancing two steaming bowls glistening with fatty river fish and sticky spirit rice. Judar accepted a bowl with a flicker of surprise—Hakuryuu rarely sought him out since their bitter argument over Aladdin. "Waiting," Judar murmured, chopsticks hovering. "I saw a dragon when I arrived here. Shimmering white, like pure magic." He kicked his heels against the stone, sending a loose pebble plummeting into the abyss. "Everything here is... wonderful." Hakuryuu settled beside him, the scent of ozone clinging to his robes. "Hm," he offered a tight, fleeting smile. "I guess it is." Judar chewed thoughtfully, studying the tension in Hakuryuu's jawline. "You seem unhappy," he pressed, fish grease slick on his lips. "Why? You're a sorcerer, aren't you? Everyone respects you."

"That's not all there is in this world," Hakuryuu replied, his gaze fixed on the distant Spirit River where Judar had almost drowned. "When I was a kid, I was a bit like you. But I was weak. Hiding behind my mother, clinging to her robes." His fingers traced the deep burn scars disappearing beneath his collar. "My family was strong—everyone called me a crybaby. I wanted admiration, to desperately prove myself."

Judar frowned, chopsticks scraping against his bowl. "But you have that now. You command spirits." Hakuryuu's laugh was a hollow rasp. "And it leaves me emptier than this bowl. I sacrificed everything for it." He turned, moonlight catching the haunted shadows beneath his eyes. "My own family," he whispered, locking gazes with Judar. "Just like you're about to leave your own behind to follow a dream that won`t give you what you crave."

The accusation hung sharp and cold between them. Judar slammed his bowl onto the stone ledge, fish bones scattering. "What are you saying?" he hissed, knuckles whitening. Hakuryuu stood abruptly, robes whispering against stone. "Come. Follow me." He strode toward the tower's shadowed stairwell without looking back. "I'll show you what emptiness tastes like."

Judar hesitated only a heartbeat before plunging after Hakuryuu into the gloom. The corridor swallowed sound whole—their footsteps muffled by thick moss carpeting stone walls slick with condensation. The air tasted metallic, like old blood. Hakuryuu froze abruptly, shoving Judar backward into a damp alcove, his body shielding Judar’s as a tall figure glided past. Silken robes whispered against stone, their hem embroidered with constellations that flickered faintly. Hakuryuu bowed his head a fraction. "Lord Jamil." The man didn’t slow, his profile sharp and contemptuous beneath a silver diadem, eyes fixed ahead as if they were mere stains on the wall. Only when his silhouette dissolved into the darkness did Hakuryuu release the breath he’d been holding. "Why were you hiding me?" Judar rasped against Hakuryuu’s shoulder, the moss cold against his cheek. "I’m under Gyokuen’s protection, aren’t I?" Hakuryuu pulled away, his expression unreadable. "Be careful around that man," he murmured, already moving deeper into the shadows. "Some contracts here aren`t just for work, some spirits are desperate enough to sell their very souls to people like him. They`re slaves, Jamil is in charge of most of them."

A heavy door groaned open, revealing a cavernous hall where silence hung thicker than the fog outside. Mirrored walls stretched infinitely, fracturing Judar’s reflection into a thousand shards. Above, the ceiling wept slow, fat snowflakes that vanished inches above the floor, leaving no trace. Between the mirrors stood figures—petrified in mid-stride, mid-scream, mid-prayer. A spirit with antlers frozen mid-leap. A human merchant clutching frozen coins. A god with wings spread wide, stone feathers catching phantom light. Judar reached out, fingertips brushing the ice-cold cheek of a child statue. "These were… alive?" he whispered, the cold seeping into his bones.

Hakuryuu nodded grimly, the faint luminescence of the stone statues casting hollows beneath his cheekbones. "Spirits, humans, gods," he murmured, tracing the frozen folds of a goddess's robe. "Life flows in everything you touch—in your world's rustling leaves and Alma Torran's singing rivers. But this..." His finger jabbed violently toward the petrified child. "This is death. Only the highest magic freezes life's pulse into stone." He paused, swallowing hard. "My mother did all this. That's her true power." Judar stared from the statues to Hakuryuu's clenched fists. "Why?" he breathed. Hakuryuu shrugged, the movement stiff. "Someone angered her. Someone bored her. Someone disappointed her." His blue eyes locked onto Judar's. "That's why I warned you. Why I stay—despite fearing her." He stopped before two figures with Hakuryuu's sharp jawline and broad shoulders. "My brothers. They rebelled. I didn't help them—too busy clinging to scraps of her approval." His voice cracked. "When she turned them to stone... suddenly, everything I'd craved felt stupid. Empty." Hakuryuu turned, shadows pooling in his scars. "My mother never loved me. She doesn't care for you. We're weapons. Fail her..." He hesitated. "...and she'll exploit your greatest weakness."

Judar let out a bitter, jagged laugh that echoed in the frozen hall. "She already did." He stepped closer, until their breaths mingled in the frigid air. "Gyokuen said my greatest weakness..." His hand brushed Hakuryuu's scarred cheek. "...is you."

Hakuryuu recoiled sharply, his expression twisting with cold fury. "It shouldn't be me," he hissed, shoving Judar's hand away. The black cat meowed anxiously at his feet, the tiny mouse clinging to its fur. "You don't know me. You know nothing."

Judar surged forward, blocking Hakuryuu's retreat, his voice low and fierce. "You trusted me enough to bring me here, to this cursed room! Why?" His fingers dug into Hakuryuu's robe sleeve. "You saved my life. You warn me. You try to protect me! But I don't crave her fucking power anymore, Hakuryuu! All I want..." He faltered, throat tightening. "Isn't your approval worth more than hers? Is that...wrong?"

Hakuryuu stared at him, utterly still. The silence stretched, thick with falling snowflakes and the phantom screams of stone. "I need to focus," he whispered at last, voice brittle. "On freeing my brothers. Nothing else. I can't...distract myself from that mission."

"You don't have to!" Judar snapped, jabbing a finger against Hakuryuu's chest. "I'll free them! I'll become so fucking powerful, Hakuryuu, you'll be awestruck! And then..." He trailed off, cheeks flushing crimson. He abruptly crouched, scooping up the black cat in a swift motion. It nestled against him, purring softly as Judar scratched behind its ears. His defiance solidified like the statues around them. "And if your stupid mother dares to stop us?" He flashed Hakuryuu a grin sharp as shattered ice. "We'll kill her ourselves."

Hakuryuu huffed, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "You and me against the world?" Sarcasm dripped from every word. "Great idea."

Judar smirked, scratching the cat's chin. "Already jealous?"

"No." Hakuryuu's gaze slid sideways towards the statues surrounding them. "I'm realistic. My mother has turned gods to stone. What's a pair of reckless humans?" He sighed again. "You'll see." He gestured sharply toward the door. "Come on."

Judar followed Hakuryuu through winding corridors lit by flickering spirit lanterns, the cat purring comfortingly against his chest, its tiny mouse companion nestled deep in its fur. They emerged onto a wide veranda overlooking Alma Torran's chaotic skyline – floating bathhouses tethered like balloons, rivers of liquid starlight weaving below. "Where do I sleep?" Judar grinned, leaning against the ornate railing. "Your bed?"

Hakuryuu stiffened slightly. "No." His voice was clipped, distant. "You have your own rooms. Top floor. Servants, silk sheets, whatever luxury you desire." He gestured vaguely upwards towards the bathhouse's gleaming peak where Gyokuen's own chambers lay. "Nice!" Judar's grin widened, genuine delight sparking in his red eyes. "Finally! I'll get spoiled. Treated nicely." He shifted the cat in his arms, relishing the thought of soft pillows and endless hot meals.

Hakuryuu sighed, a sound heavy with weary resignation. He turned, his blue eyes meeting Judar's crimson ones under the twin moons' silver light. His scarred hand reached out slowly, almost hesitantly, and came to rest gently on Judar's cheek. The touch was startlingly tender against Judar's pale skin. "You'll get lost in that pleasure," Hakuryuu murmured, his voice low and thick with warning. "Like everyone else who arrives here thinking they've won. Humans..." He paused, his thumb brushing lightly over Judar's cheekbone. "...are greedy creatures. It's their downfall." His gaze intensified, locking onto Judar's. "Don't let it be yours." Judar nodded mutely, surprised by the intensity of the contact and the raw concern etched onto Hakuryuu’s young face. Hakuryuu withdrew his hand abruptly, turning on his heel without another word. Judar stared after him as he vanished into the shadowed archway, the cat still purring deeply in his arms, a strange warmth lingering where Hakuryuu’s fingers had been.

Chapter 2 Chapter Text

Aladdin sprinted along the slippery corridor, bunches of pungent herbs crushed against his chest—sage that smelled like thunderstorms, lavender like dusty sunlight, roots that stung his nostrils with sharp, earthy secrets. He skidded into the cramped room where Alibaba knelt, sweat dripping from his chin as he scraped grime from pipes thicker than Aladdin’s waist. "Ugo gave me so many!" Aladdin declared breathlessly, thrusting the fragrant bundles forward. Alibaba stared, grease-blackened fingers hovering mid-scrape. "He must like you," he murmured, a genuine smile breaking through his exhaustion. "Those are amazing." He pushed himself up, joints cracking. "Here, let’s get some water!" Alibaba yanked a rusted lever overhead. With a groan and a hiss, scalding water surged from pipes above, swirling with the herbs in the deep iron tub until the air thickened with steam that smelled like forgotten forests and healing. The tub overflowed, flooding the floor with herb-scented water. "Let go!" Alibaba shouted over the roar, grabbing stiff-bristled brushes. He tossed one to Aladdin. "Properly!"

Aladdin scrubbed beside him, the heat searing his cheeks as oily water soaked his worn pants. "You're working so hard," he panted, attacking a stubborn patch of calcified grime. "Why?" Alibaba didn't pause, his brush scraping rhythmically. "For my mother," he breathed, knuckles white. "I bet that's why you didn't give up earlier either." He stopped abruptly, shoulders slumping. Steam curled around them like ghosts. "How is your brother?" Alibaba asked softly, not looking up. "I only know Gyokuen took him. Nothing else."

Aladdin froze, the brush slipping from his fingers. The sharp scent of herbs tangled with the memory of Judar's furious glare. "Well... he's a bit difficult," Aladdin whispered, tracing a crack in the stone floor. "I was born when he was nine. He always said I took his life away because everybody liked me... not him." His small hands clenched into fists. "All this time, all I ever wanted was... to be his friend! To make him like me!" Tears blurred the filthy water. "And now I ran away and screamed that everything was his fault! He was mean... but sometimes..." Aladdin's voice cracked, barely audible over the dripping pipes. "...he was nice. When those boys shoved me into the lockers... Judar came. He hit them bloody. Got suspended... but I think... he just cared."

Alibaba slowly lowered his brush. The steam parted enough to reveal his thoughtful frown. "Sounds... complicated," he murmured, noticing Aladdin trembling. The raw ache in the boy's voice filled the humid air thicker than the steam. Gently, Alibaba placed a wet, calloused hand on Aladdin's shoulder. "You can cry if you miss home," he said quietly, his own eyes shadowed. "I did. Many times. When everyone was asleep. You don't have to hide that from me." He squeezed gently. "We're friends."

Aladdin crumpled. A sob tore from his throat as he buried his face against Alibaba's damp tunic, hot tears mixing with the grimy water on the fabric. The sharp herbs, the stifling heat, Judar's remembered rage – it all flooded out in shuddering gasps. Alibaba held him silently, the rough scrape of bristles against stone the only other sound. "Sit down," he whispered finally, guiding Aladdin to a drier patch of floor against the mossy wall. "I'll finish this." He picked up his discarded brush, scrubbing with renewed, fierce energy. "Then..." he promised, meeting Aladdin's red-rimmed eyes with a small, tired smile, "...we can go eat."

They slumped together against the cooling pipes mere minutes after the last tile gleamed, exhaustion pulling them under before Aladdin could even wipe the last tear streak from his cheek. The humid air smelled faintly of wet stone and fading lavender.

A guttural yell shattered the silence like dropped porcelain. "WAKE UP!" Footsteps slammed against the stone floor. Aladdin jerked awake, horrified to see Budel's polished boot planting firmly on Alibaba's chest, rocking him violently. "Out!" Budel roared, kicking Alibaba's ribs. "You're late for my breakfast! Move!"

"Leave him alone!" Aladdin scrambled up, planting himself between Budel and the stirring Alibaba. His fists clenched. "We haven't eaten either!" Budel’s lip curled. "Out of my way, runt!" He shoved Aladdin hard, sending him stumbling back against the pipes. The impact jolted Alibaba fully awake. "M-Master!" he choked out instantly, scrambling to his knees. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "I’m sorry!" Budel spun on his heel, robes snapping. "Follow me!" His hissed "Useless human!" echoed down the corridor. Alibaba cast Aladdin a single, apologetic frown heavy with unspoken defeat. "I'll meet you later," he whispered quickly, pushing himself up. "I’ll... try to find a way for you to see Judar. Good luck." He ran after Budel, leaving Aladdin alone in the dripping silence, fists trembling at his sides.

Aladdin slumped against the cold wall, the sharp sting of Budel’s shove throbbing against his shoulder blade. He watched Alibaba vanish around the bend, shoulders slumped, swallowed by the shadowed corridor. He wanted to run after him, yell at Budel himself, do something. But Alibaba’s weary sigh echoed in his mind. Alibaba needed to fight his own chains, just like Judar needed... something Aladdin couldn't give him yet. The damp moss felt cold beneath his worn pants.

The sudden scent of honey roasted chestnuts cut through the damp air, pungent and sweet. "There you are!" Hakuei’s bright voice chirped as she rounded the corner, a steaming bundle wrapped in lotus leaves clutched in her hands. She beamed. "You missed breakfast." She thrust the warm bundle towards him. "Here, I got you something!" Aladdin stared at the offering, hunger twisting in his gut, shame prickling hotter. "I did... almost nothing," he mumbled, head bowed. "Alibaba... he worked for me." Hakuei chuckled softly, her hand ruffling his damp blue hair. "Don’t worry," she said warmly. "I didn’t expect you to be perfect on your first day." Her fingers lingered for a second, her smile kind but brief, before she turned. "Finish eating. Gyokuen wants the spirit pools polished before midday." Her footsteps faded, leaving Aladdin clutching the warm bundle, chestnuts smelling like comfort he hadn’t earned.

Aladdin trailed behind a group of silent attendants, feet dragging on moss-slicked stone. The polished obsidian floor of the Spirit Pool Chamber gleamed liquid black under hovering spirit-lanterns. Attendants swept towels across its surface with swift, practiced strokes, the wet shhhhk echoing sharply. His own clumsy swipe sent water spraying over the pristine finish – droplets stark as ink splashes. A sharp intake of breath hissed nearby. Faces turned; brows furrowed. Heat flooded his cheeks. He wanted to sink into the floor, towel discarded. Give up. But the frantic scrape of Alibaba’s brush filled his mind – grease-blackened fingers, cracking joints, sweat dripping. He never gives up. Aladdin snatched the towel back from the damp stone. Jaw clenched, he dipped it firmly in the bucket, wrung it hard, and swept again. The next stroke was firmer, less clumsy. Then another. And another. Water flowed smoothly under the linen, leaving only light behind.

"Aladdin!" The sharp command sliced through the rhythmic swishing. Aladdin jerked his head up, heart pounding. There she stood – Kougyoku Ren, Gyokuen’s youngest niece, her crimson robes pristine, dark eyes sharp as flint beneath her elaborate golden hairpiece. Her gaze swept the room, dismissive. "Up with you!" she snapped, fingers tapping impatiently against her thigh. "Alibaba told me you're not entirely useless." A flicker of surprise warmed Aladdin's chest. Kougyoku gestured towards a bustling corridor heavy with the scent of roasting meats and spices. "Help the kitchen transport dinner to the higher guest suites. Quickly!" Aladdin stared, hope igniting like a spark. The higher suites...where Judar is.

Alibaba’s whispered promise echoed – "I’ll try to find a way for you to see Judar." – This was it. Aladdin scrambled to his feet, abandoning his towel without a backward glance. "Yes, Mistress Kougyoku!" he called, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous chamber. He didn't see her slight nod, already darting towards the corridor Kougyoku had indicated, the scent of roasting duck and saffron rice growing overpowering as he approached the kitchens.

Chaos swallowed him whole. Steam billowed from massive iron pots, cooks shouted over clanging pans, and attendants jostled like river rapids, laden down with trays groaning under gold-plated dishes. "You! Boy!" A harried cook thrust a heavy, steaming tray into Aladdin's unprepared hands. Porcelain rattled dangerously. "Hold this! Bring it upstairs! Quickly!" Aladdin staggered slightly under the sudden weight, the heat searing his palms even through the thick cloth beneath. "Upstairs? Where?" he stammered, struggling to keep the laden tray level. "Follow the others!" the cook snapped, already turning away. "Move!" Aladdin nodded mutely, his arms trembling, and merged into the stream of servants flowing towards a broad, carpeted staircase ascending into the bathhouse's opulent heights. He followed the scent of exotic spices and the clatter of fine china, heart hammering against his ribs.

The procession entered a vast dining hall dripping with decadence. Silk tapestries shimmered on walls, spirit-lanterns cast soft golden light, and a colossal table groaned under an impossible feast – glistening roasted fowl, jewel-toned fruits piled high, steaming soups in translucent bowls. Servants wove through the lingering spirits and important guests, depositing trays with practiced bows. Aladdin scanned the table, his gaze snagging instantly on the figure seated directly opposite Gyokuen, whose smile was predatory silk. There sat Judar. His long, uncut black hair was intricately braided and pinned with jade clasps, cascading down his back like spilled ink. Rich, emerald-green robes draped his lean frame – fine silk, yes, but drowning him slightly, making him seem younger, almost fragile beneath the facade of luxury. Yet his expression was pure, unguarded delight, red eyes gleaming as he sampled a translucent slice of candied fruit offered by a hovering attendant, oblivious to Aladdin’s wide-eyed stare. To Gyokuen's immediate right sat a young man Aladdin didn't recognize: sharp-featured, hair a shade darker than Hakuei’s crimson locks, tied back severely, his eyes narrowed with a chilling intensity as they flicked between Gyokuen and Judar. Another one of Gyokuen`s children? Aladdin wondered, his stomach clenching.

Stumbling forward, Aladdin reached the table's edge near Judar's seat. His trembling arms lowered the heavy tray onto the polished surface with a clumsy thud that made nearby crystal glasses shiver. The noise sliced through the murmur of conversation. Judar paused mid-chew. His gaze lifted, sliding past the steaming dish Aladdin had deposited – crimson braised pork belly – and locking onto Aladdin’s face. The delight vanished from Judar’s expression like snuffed candlelight. His pale skin seemed to tighten over sharp cheekbones, his crimson eyes hardening into chips of frozen blood. Recognition flashed, followed instantly by icy dismissal. He didn't speak, didn't shout. He simply looked away, turning back towards Gyokuen and her unnerving companion as if Aladdin were nothing more than a mildly unpleasant draft. Aladdin stood frozen, the heat from the pork tray forgotten, replaced by a cold wave crashing over him, leaving him stranded in the bustling, indifferent room.

Gyokuen’s smooth, predatory smile tightened fractionally. Her dark eyes, sharp as obsidian shards, flicked from Judar’s deliberate indifference to Aladdin’s dirt-streaked face and hands, raw and trembling from hours of abrasive scrubbing. "I don't want this boy here," she stated, her voice cold and clear as cracking ice, slicing through the lingering chatter. Heads turned. Alibaba, serving further down the table, froze mid-pour. Judar flinched almost imperceptibly, a tremor running through his shoulders beneath the fine silk robes. Slowly, reluctantly, he turned his head back towards Aladdin. His red eyes met his brother’s blue ones properly for the first time since their arrival. The contrast was stark: Aladdin, small and grimy, dwarfed by the grandeur and exhaustion etched onto his young face; Judar, draped in luxury, surrounded by attendants whose smiles didn't reach their eyes, their adoration a brittle, glittering cage.

"Judar..." Aladdin breathed, the name barely audible above the clink of cutlery. He took a shaky step closer, ignoring Gyokuen’s glare. "Come with me. Please." The desperation cracked his voice. Judar stared, his jaw tightening. A flicker of something ancient – guilt? fear? – danced behind the cold facade before it slammed shut. "No," he declared, his voice loud, brittle, forcing lightness into it. He deliberately shifted his gaze away again, fixing it on the unnerving son beside Gyokuen. "That’s how it is here." He gestured flippantly around the opulent room. " I’m in charge in this world. Everybody does what I command... not you." A sharp, brittle laugh escaped him. "How does it feel?! Aren’t you jealous now that our roles are reversed?"

"Jealous?" Aladdin’s voice was suddenly steady, cutting through Judar’s brittle performance. He didn't yell. He stood unmoving amidst the stunned silence. "No," he said, quietly fierce. "I never wanted anyone to treat me different from you. Never. All I wanted..." His gaze locked onto Judar’s averted profile. "...was to be your brother. And you never let me." Tears welled but didn't fall. "You were the one who was jealous of my life... but I never asked you to!" He took another step, reaching out a grimy hand. "Come with me. Come home." Judar remained rigid, staring fixedly at his untouched plate. His knuckles whitened where they gripped his chopsticks. The unnerving son beside Gyokuen leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes narrowing further. "Go," he urged Judar softly, his voice like poisoned honey. "Listen to him." Judar shuddered. "I... can't," he whispered, the brittle defiance crumbling into something ragged. He squeezed his eyes shut, then snapped them open, glaring at Aladdin with forced venom. "Get lost, Aladdin. I'm happy here."

Aladdin stared at his brother – draped in borrowed silks, surrounded by sycophants, the haunted shadow in his eyes screaming louder than his cruel words. "Happy?" Aladdin echoed, disbelief twisting his features. "You're surrounded by people who only see your power, not you." His small voice cracked with rising anger. "Is that what you wanted?!" Without waiting for an answer, Aladdin spun on his heel. Fury and crushing disappointment burned hot in his chest, hotter than the dishes he’d carried. He shoved past a startled attendant and fled the suffocating hall, leaving Judar alone at the glittering table. The forced silence deepened. Judar stared blindly at the untouched braised pork, his shoulders slumped, the sharp angles of his face etched with a profound sadness and guilt he couldn't hide. Gyokuen shifted smoothly beside him, her purr like velvet over broken glass. Her cool hand settled possessively on Judar’s stiff forearm. "Don't worry, dear," she murmured, her smile dripping false comfort. "He’s just jealous."

----

The heavy carved doors swung open silently, admitting Hakuryuu into Judar's cavernous chamber. The air hung thick with the scent of jasmine incense and something sharper, like crushed pride. Gifts lay scattered across the obsidian floor – bolts of shimmering silk discarded like rags, ornate boxes spilling jewels, trays of untouched spirit-fruit wilting – a testament to the bathhouse's desperate welcome. Amidst the suffocating luxury, Judar sat slumped against the foot of an absurdly large bed draped in crimson velvet, his back to the door. His long, ink-black hair pooled around him like a mourning shroud, his posture radiating a profound, aching emptiness that seemed to hollow out the very opulence surrounding him. He didn't turn.

"Why are you here?" Judar's voice rasped, raw as scraped bone. It echoed flatly in the vast silence. He still stared blankly at the intricate pattern of veins running through a discarded slab of polished malachite. "Tell me I was fucking wrong for dismissing the brat? Go on. Tell me I'm some cold-hearted bastard." His shoulders tightened, a tremor running through his lean frame. "I couldn't—!" The sentence died, choked off into silence. He couldn't bear Aladdin’s earnest eyes, couldn't face the accusation he saw there – the accusation he’d painted himself.

A soft rustle of fabric. Hakuryuu moved closer, his steps soundless on the plush carpet, his shadow falling over the discarded finery. He didn't touch the scattered treasures. "That's not why I am here," he murmured, his voice low and steady, cutting through Judar’s brittle anger. He halted a pace away, the faint scent of ozone and damp stone clinging to him. "I just wanted… to see you." His gaze lingered not on the jewels or silks, but on the sharp line of Judar's hunched shoulders, the way his pale fingers dug into the velvet bedding.

Judar flinched, finally twisting his head slightly. His crimson eyes, usually burning with arrogance, were dull, shadowed. A bitter laugh escaped him, harsh and grating. "See me?" He gestured vaguely at the opulent tomb. "See what? I can't use magic now." He slammed a fist weakly against his own thigh. "Nothing happens! All that power... gone. Maybe your mother was wrong. Maybe I was always nothing." He slumped further, forehead pressing against the cool stone wall beside the bed. "There’s nothing to see."

Hakuryuu knelt beside him then, the movement fluid and deliberate, ignoring the priceless silk crumpled beneath his knee. He didn't reach for Judar’s trembling fists. Instead, he met Judar’s shadowed gaze head-on, his own blue eyes unwavering pools of calm certainty. "I came to see you, Judar." His voice was softer now, impossibly gentle against the chamber's echoing silence. "Not your powers." A pause, heavy and deliberate. "I know you're not heartless. You're afraid." His gaze held Judar’s, refusing to let him look away. "Afraid you’ll never be enough to fulfill the crushing expectations they demand as the price for their hollow servitude. Afraid the admiration you craved was always just... payment." Hakuryuu shifted closer, his warmth a tangible presence against Judar’s chill. He slowly, deliberately, reached out and placed Judar’s limp, cold hand flat against his own chest, over the steady, strong beat of his heart beneath the simple linen shirt.

Judar froze. The contact was searingly intimate against the isolation of the room. He could feel the rhythm beneath his palm – steady, anchoring, impossibly real. Hakuryuu’s gaze softened further. "Love," he breathed, the word barely a whisper yet resonating like a struck bell in the silence, "doesn’t feel like that. Admiration? Respect?" He shook his head slightly, his thumb brushing gently over Judar’s knuckles. "They’re not conditional. They don’t vanish because you stumbled." His grip tightened fractionally, pressing Judar’s hand firmer against the warmth of his chest. "You could never disappoint me, Judar." Hakuryuu leaned in, his breath ghosting Judar’s cheek. "No matter what you do. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?" The desperation in Hakuryuu’s voice wasn’t pleading; it was a declaration, fierce and irrevocable.

A shuddering breath escaped Judar. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden sting, the rigid tension in his shoulders melting into tremors. "I understand," he rasped, the words thick with unshed tears. He dared to open his eyes, meeting Hakuryuu’s unwavering blue gaze. "But... how can you like me? How can anyone? I've been nothing but arrogant and awful today." His voice cracked, fingers curling slightly against Hakuryuu’s chest, seeking the anchor of his heartbeat. "I feel like shit. Like I’m... ashamed of myself for enjoying being praised for nothing, for letting her flatteries twist me." He looked away, unable to bear Hakuryuu seeing the raw vulnerability twisting his features. "For hurting him."

Hakuryuu’s thumb traced the sharp ridge of Judar’s knuckles, a soft, grounding pressure. A ghost of a smile touched his lips, gentle and understanding. "You wouldn’t feel this bad," he murmured, his voice impossibly soft in the cavernous silence, "if you were truly a horrible person, Judar. That shame? That regret?" He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against Judar’s temple. "That’s your goodness fighting its way back to the surface." Hakuryuu’s free hand rose, brushing a stray lock of pitch-black hair away from Judar’s damp cheek. "Deep down, beneath the pride and the fear... you are good. You care fiercely, even when you try desperately to hide it."

Judar drew in a ragged breath, finally lifting his gaze again. The cold emptiness in Hakuryuu’s eyes was gone, replaced by a warmth Judar hadn't realized he'd been starving for. It didn't feel like the suffocating adoration of the attendants or Gyokuen's predatory glee. This felt... safe. Real. The frantic rhythm beneath his palm seemed to sync with his own slowing heartbeat. "Come with me," Hakuryuu urged softly, his hand tightening slightly over Judar’s where it rested against his chest. "I’ll take you to your brother." He saw the flicker of panic in Judar’s crimson eyes and added firmly, "You need to talk to him, Judar. Before the chasm you dug today becomes too wide to cross."

Judar shuddered, pulling away abruptly. "I can't," he breathed, the words scraping his throat raw. He turned his face towards the balcony doors, avoiding Hakuryuu’s steady gaze. "Not today." The image of Aladdin's crushed expression, the tremble in his voice when he'd pleaded – it felt like a physical weight pressing down on his ribs. He squeezed his eyes shut. "And what if..." His voice dropped to a terrified whisper. "...Gyokuen hurts him?" The horrifying possibilities spilled out. "Turns him to stone? Like... like your brothers? I can't..." His voice broke. "...I can't free him." He sounded impossibly young, the arrogant facade crumbling to reveal the terrified boy beneath. "She knows. She saw... she saw me hesitate."

"That's alright," Hakuryuu murmured, stepping closer behind him. His voice was a steady anchor in Judar’s rising panic. He gently placed a hand on the small of Judar’s back, the touch grounding. "I'll speak to him tonight. I'll let him know... tomorrow." He paused, choosing his words with deliberate care. "That you didn't mean what you said. That you... were afraid." Hakuryuu’s thumb traced a slow circle against the silk robe covering Judar’s spine. "For now... do you want to..." He hesitated, uncharacteristically tentative. "...go out?" His hand moved slightly on Judar’s back. "With me?"

Judar turned slowly, blinking away the sting in his eyes. Hakuryuu was looking at him – not at the potential weapon, not at the prized apprentice, not at the broken boy – but simply at him. Like he was precious. Like he was special. Like he had inherent worth, demanding nothing, judging nothing. The realization hit Judar, stealing his breath. Did Judar just want... love? All this time? Was that the hollow ache he'd been trying to fill with power and defiance? He stared into Hakuryuu’s unwavering blue eyes, seeing only acceptance reflected there. Slowly, almost shyly, he nodded. Then, unexpectedly, a genuine smile curved his lips, eager and bright. "Where to?" he asked, his voice regaining a hint of its old spark.

Hakuryuu’s smile was sharp and unexpected, a flash of genuine excitement cutting through his usual reserve. He didn't answer Judar's question directly. Instead, his hands slid firmly to Judar’s hips, lifting him with surprising ease onto the wide stone balcony ledge overlooking the sprawling, steam-wreathed city below. "Into the city," he said, his voice low and thrillingly conspiratorial, "To the Night Markets." Judar’s heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat of exhilaration and fear mixing with the lingering scent of Hakuryuu’s closeness. He flashed a reckless grin, bracing himself against Hakuryuu’s steadying grip. "Won't Gyokuen’s shadows follow?" he challenged, the thrill of defiance warming him. Hakuryuu’s answering gaze was fierce, his blue eyes bright in the twilight. "Oh, and what if?" he countered, stepping onto the ledge beside Judar, the sheer drop yawning beneath them. "She wants me close to you, doesn’t she? Keeping watch?" His hand extended, palm open, an unwavering anchor. "It plays into her hands... and perfectly into mine. Come."

Judar hesitated only a heartbeat, staring down at the dizzying mosaic of lantern-lit streets far below. The wind snatched at his long, ink-black hair, carrying the distant cacophony of spirit laughter and clanging metal from the markets. He could almost taste the spiced steam rising from food stalls, feel the press of unseen bodies, hear the strident calls of vendors hawking impossible wares. Hakuryuu’s hand remained outstretched, a silent promise. "You won’t fall," Hakuryuu murmured, the certainty in his voice threading through Judar’s fear, stronger than the vertigo pulling at him. "I’ll catch you." Taking a shuddering breath, Judar grasped Hakuryuu’s hand tightly, his cold fingers curling around the warm strength.

Together they stepped off the ledge, plunging not down, but outward into the twilight sky. Judar’s gasp was stolen by the rushing wind as Hakuryuu guided them effortlessly, an invisible current buoying them like leaves on a swift stream. They soared above the labyrinthine rooftops of the bathhouse district, the warm glow from countless windows painting streaks of gold on the darkening canvas below. Judar clung to Hakuryuu, not out of terror now, but a giddy, breathless wonder. The city unfurled beneath them – canals glittering like spilled mercury, bridges arched like dragon spines, and the vibrant, chaotic sprawl of the Night Markets pulsing like a living heart in the distance. Hakuryuu navigated the thermal drafts with silent grace, his focus absolute, his grip secure.

They landed softly in a shadowed alley choked with the scent of roasting spices and damp stone, mere steps from the market’s roaring edge. The sudden immersion was overwhelming – a tidal wave of sound, color, and scent crashing over Judar. Drums thumped a primal rhythm, lanterns strung overhead cast shifting patterns of crimson and emerald light, and the air hummed with the chatter of spirits, demons, and weary workers shoulder-to-shoulder. Hakuryuu kept Judar close, his hand a grounding pressure on the small of Judar’s back as they melted into the surging crowd. Ahead, a vendor bellowed, hawking candied nightmares on sticks that writhed faintly, while another stall overflowed with shimmering fabrics that seemed to ripple with captured starlight. Judar’s wide crimson eyes drank it all in, the arrogance momentarily forgotten, replaced by pure, stunned fascination. Hakuryuu leaned close, his breath warm against Judar’s ear above the din. "Stay close," he murmured, a thrill lacing his usually level tone. "This is Alma Torran."

Moving deeper into the throng felt like swimming upstream against a current of pure energy. Faces flickered past – elongated masks of polished bone, skin like cracked obsidian, eyes glowing like captured fireflies. Some spirits recoiled subtly as Hakuryuu passed, dipping their heads or pressing fists to hearts in gestures of profound respect. Judar noted the deference, the way paths cleared slightly before them, fueled not by Hakuryuu’s status as Gyokuen’s son, but by something deeper, older – an instinctive acknowledgment of something Judar couldn`t name. Hakuryuu ignored the bows, his focus solely on guiding Judar. They stopped at a stall where smoke billowed from grilling cubes of meat skewered on ironwood sticks, dripping fragrant juices onto glowing coals. Hakuryuu purchased two, handing one to Judar. The spiced aroma hit Judar’s senses – hot, peppery, strangely floral, and deeply tempting. He bit into the tender flesh, flavors exploding – heat, char, sweetness, and a metallic tang that hinted at otherworldly origins. As Judar savored the bite, eyes half-closed in pleasure, Hakuryuu leaned in again, his voice dropping to a near whisper lost beneath the cacophony. "Don’t fall in love with this world," he warned, a flicker of genuine concern in his blue eyes. "You don’t belong here."

Judar swallowed the succulent meat, wiping juice from his chin with the back of his hand, a reckless grin spreading across his face. "Liar," he countered, stepping closer, his crimson gaze locking onto Hakuryuu’s. "You just confessed to me. You think the same as I do – that there’s no better place for me to be." He gripped Hakuryuu’s wrist, pulling him away from the smoky stall into the shifting shadows between towering spirit-lanterns. "Let me stay with you."

Hakuryuu’s jaw tightened, a flicker of anguish crossing his scarred features before resolve hardened his gaze. Without a word, his hand shot to the back of Judar’s neck, fingers tangling in the inky cascade of hair as he pulled him into a crushing kiss right there amidst the swirling market chaos. Judar tasted spice and smoke on Hakuryuu’s lips, felt the frantic pulse beneath his fingertips where they clutched Hakuryuu’s shirt. Around them, a shocked murmur rippled through the crowd like disturbed water. "L-Lord Hakuryuu!" a spirit hissed, its voice thick with scandalized horror. "Disgusting… a disgrace to the bathhouse line!" Judar only pressed closer, deepening the kiss with defiant fervor, the whispers washing over him like meaningless noise.

"Wanna ruin your mother’s precious reputation already?" Judar purred against Hakuryuu’s lips, his crimson eyes alight with reckless glee when they finally broke apart, breathless. "I’ll help you tear it all down." He captured Hakuryuu’s mouth again, shorter, fiercer kisses punctuating his hissed words between gasps. "You should rule here," Judar insisted, his voice low and urgent against Hakuryuu’s ear, ignoring the stares burning into them. "Command everyone. You’re selfless… strong…" He gripped Hakuryuu’s forearm, fingers digging in. "We overthrow Gyokuen. Free your brothers." Hakuryuu’s sudden bark of laughter was harsh, unexpected, echoing strangely against the market din. "We can’t," he breathed, shaking his head, but his thumb traced the sharp line of Judar’s jawline, lingering. "Not tonight… but I’ll keep the treason in mind." His gaze swept the lingering onlookers, a silent command that sent them scattering like startled birds.

They walked then, hand-in-hand through the lantern-strung arteries of the city, the earlier tension dissolving into a strange, shared exhilaration. Judar pointed at impossible wonders – a stall selling bottled thunderstorms that crackled violet within glass, another displaying masks that shifted expressions with the wearer’s mood – his laughter sharp and bright, a sound Hakuryuu hadn’t realized he craved. Hakuryuu guided them silently down quieter alleys where phosphorescent moss painted the walls in eerie blues and greens, the air thick with the damp scent of unseen rivers flowing beneath their feet. He bought Judar a skewer of candied starfruit that dissolved on the tongue like captured moonlight, the sweetness lingering long after the bite was gone. Judar leaned into Hakuryuu’s side, the warmth a solid anchor against the alien chill seeping from the ancient stones.

As the twin moons climbed higher, casting long, distorted shadows, Hakuryuu steered them towards a secluded garden terrace overlooking the main spirit canal. Below, barges laden with glowing cargo drifted silently like fireflies on ink. Judar rested his head on Hakuryuu’s shoulder, the frantic energy finally ebbing into a bone-deep fatigue. Hakuryuu’s arm tightened around him, protective, grounding. "Remember," Hakuryuu murmured into the stillness, his voice barely audible above the distant hum of the city, "this place… it feeds on longing. It twists desire." He turned Judar’s face gently towards him, his blue eyes starkly serious in the moonlight. "Promise me… promise you won’t let it consume the good I see in you." Judar met his gaze, the earlier defiance softened into something vulnerable. He didn’t answer, only leaned in, pressing a silent, desperate kiss to Hakuryuu’s lips, tasting moonlight, starfruit, and the lingering, terrifying sweetness of belonging.

----

Aladdin curled into a tight ball on the thin sleeping mat, muffling his sobs against his knees as spirits snored and muttered in their sleep around him. The vast shared dormitory smelled of damp straw and strange spices, the air thick with exhaustion. He flinched sharply as a warm hand settled gently on his shoulder. "Come with me," Alibaba whispered, his voice barely audible above the rhythmic breathing of dozens of slumbering attendants. Aladdin let himself be pulled to his feet and guided silently through the labyrinth of sleeping bodies towards a narrow balcony overlooking the staff courtyard.

Outside, the cool night air stung Aladdin’s damp cheeks. He leaned against the rough stone railing, staring blindly at the distant glow of the luxurious bathhouse towers where Judar now resided. "He doesn't want me here," Aladdin choked out, the words thin and broken. "Judar really... hates me." Below, the faint clatter of night-shift workers cleaning spirit tubs echoed in the stillness. Alibaba rested a steadying arm around Aladdin’s trembling shoulders. "I’m sure he doesn’t," Alibaba murmured, gazing towards those glittering windows high above. "It’s just… it can be overwhelming. Being drowned in so much gold and luxuries overnight. At least… I think so." Aladdin nodded weakly, wiping his nose on his sleeve, the rough fabric scratching his skin.

"What do I do… now?" Aladdin asked hollowly, turning tear-filled eyes to Alibaba. The older boy’s scarred hands tightened on the railing. "I don’t know where my parents are. Solomon… Mom… they’re just… gone." The scent of damp stone washed over them as a breeze stirred. Alibaba was silent for a long moment, studying the worn tiles of the courtyard far below. "You could ask Ugo," he finally said, his voice low with conviction. "He’s… a god too. Trapped, but powerful. He must know things." Aladdin blinked, surprised. "Why does he work here then? In the boiler room?" A wry, tired chuckle escaped Alibaba. "Don’t know," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never asked him. Everybody here has their own chains, Aladdin. Their own reasons to stay hidden, or serve, or wait. Guess I stopped asking others about theirs… after a while." The unspoken weight of his own trapped parents hung heavy in the quiet between them. Aladdin’s small hand brushed against the cool, smooth surface of Ugo’s gift in his pocket, the golden flute humming faintly with hidden warmth.

----

The oppressive heat and rhythmic clang of the boiler room enveloped Aladdin as he pushed open the heavy iron door the next morning. Ugo’s crystal cage pulsed faintly near the roaring furnace, but Aladdin froze just inside the entrance. Leaning casually against a pipe dripping scalding condensation was Hakuryuu, Gyokuen’s son, the man who had sat beside Judar yesterday. The black cat perched silently on his shoulder, its yellow eyes fixed on Aladdin. Steam curled around Hakuryuu’s polished boots, making him seem like a ghost materializing from the inferno’s breath.

"Who are you?" Aladdin demanded, voice tight with suspicion, stepping forward instinctively towards the god’s flickering light. "I’m here to talk to Ugo!" Hakuryuu straightened with unnerving grace, bowing slightly, a thin, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips. "I’ll let you," he said smoothly, his voice cool against the boiler’s roar. "My name is Ren Hakuryuu. I’m Gyokuen’s son." Before Aladdin could respond, Alibaba burst through the door behind him, panting slightly. "Stay away from him!" Alibaba ordered, shoving Aladdin firmly behind his own body, his fists clenched at his sides. His usual deference was gone, replaced by a protective ferocity Aladdin had never seen. "What do you want here?" Alibaba snapped, glaring at Hakuryuu. "You never come down to the pits unless your mother sends you spying!"

Hakuryuu’s eyebrows arched in genuine surprise, a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps respect, perhaps challenge – crossing his scarred features before his usual icy composure returned. "Since when do you speak up against me, Alibaba?" Hakuryuu asked, his tone dangerously quiet. "I thought you wouldn't dare raise your voice to someone ranked higher." Alibaba gritted his teeth, the tendons in his neck standing out. "Alibaba is courageous!" Aladdin declared hotly from behind him, peering around Alibaba’s protective arm. "He’s defending me! Even if it means Gyokuen forces him into triple shifts or worse! You wouldn’t understand loyalty!" Hakuryuu’s gaze shifted from Alibaba’s defiant stance to Aladdin’s flushed face. "I do," he stated, softer now, his eyes drifting towards Ugo’s pulsing crystal prison. "He said you two were friends." He paused, his next words deliberate. "I’m Judar’s friend... kind of."

"Kind of?" Alibaba spat, stepping half a pace forward, fists still clenched. "What’s that supposed to mean?" Hakuryuu met his glare squarely. "It means," he said, his voice regaining its cool authority, "I came here on his behalf. To tell Aladdin he is alright. And that he was glad to see him alive." His gaze returned to Aladdin, softening almost imperceptibly. "He wants you to know... you should go home. Without him." Alibaba lunged forward, his face contorted with fury. "Then why isn’t he here himself?! Coward! You’re always just doing what Gyokuen tells you! Her puppet!" Hakuryuu’s expression hardened instantly, a glacial cold settling over him. "Careful now," he warned, his voice a low thrum of power that vibrated in the steamy air. "I came to deliver Judar’s message, to let Aladdin know his brother hasn`t forgotten him. But I won’t tolerate you threatening me or disregarding my authority, Alibaba. Remember your place." The boiler’s rhythmic clang seemed suddenly deafening in the charged silence.

Aladdin’s small hand clutched Alibaba’s arm, pulling him back slightly. He stared at Hakuryuu, trying to reconcile the stoic figure before him with Judar’s unpredictable friend and Gyokuen’s heir. Something clicked – Hakuryuu’s stiff posture, the way his fingers unconsciously brushed the burn scars beneath his sleeve when Alibaba yelled, the protective flicker in his eyes when he mentioned Judar. "Hakuei is nicer than you," Aladdin finally said, his voice surprisingly steady amidst the tension. "She’s... your sister, right?" Hakuryuu blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Yes," he confirmed curtly, already turning towards the dripping iron door. "There’s only little time until someone discovers I’m here. But I promise," he paused, glancing back, his blue eyes locking onto Aladdin’s, "you don’t have to worry about Judar. I won’t leave him to my mother." Aladdin nodded slowly, watching Hakuryuu stride towards the exit, the black cat shifting silently on his shoulder. Alibaba shook his head violently as the door clanged shut. " You trust him?!" he hissed, rounding on Aladdin. "Hakuryuu is Gyokuen’s son! Her shadow! He always does exactly what she–" "I think he’s telling the truth," Aladdin interrupted quietly, already turning towards Ugo’s pulsing cage. Alibaba threw up his hands. " Fine. But I wouldn’t..."

Greeting Ugo next, Aladdin pressed his small palm against the cool crystal. The river god’s faint luminescence pulsed brighter in response, bathing the boy’s troubled face in soft, shifting light. "Ugo," Aladdin whispered, leaning close, his breath fogging the smooth surface. "Judar’s alive... but Hakuryuu says he won’t leave. And he says Gyokuen... Hakuryuu promised he wouldn’t abandon Judar to her." Aladdin’s brow furrowed deeply. "But Hakuryuu works for her... so how?" Within the crystal, Ugo’s swirling form coalesced into a semblance of a gentle face. A deep, resonant hum filled the boiler room, bypassing Alibaba’s muttered skepticism. The dragon, Ugo’s voice echoed silently in Aladdin’s mind, filled with ancient sorrow and understanding, bears chains forged long ago. Promises whispered in fear bind him tighter than any cage. A sudden tremor ran through the pipes overhead, dislodging a shower of rust flakes like dried blood.

Desperation surged anew as Aladdin pushed aside Ugo’s cryptic response. "Please," he pleaded, pressing his forehead against the cold crystal, arms wrapping around its hard surface as if embracing a friend. "Ugo... can you find my parents? Solomon... Mom?" Inside the crystal, Ugo’s swirling energies slowed, his spectral features twisting into profound regret. The resonant hum deepened into a mournful drone. Child, his voice echoed, heavy with pity, you were deceived. Your parents’ scent... their very essence... it never touched this realm. Alibaba gasped sharply behind Aladdin. Ugo continued, his silent words slicing through the oppressive heat. Gyokuen didn’t seek your parents. She sought Judar’s power. Drawn to it like a starving fish to a drowning star. Aladdin recoiled violently, scrambling backward until his spine met the scalding metal wall. "If he doesn’t give in..." His voice cracked, rising to a ragged shout that echoed off the clanging pipes. "What then?! Will she hurt him?"

Ugo’s glow flickered, momentarily washing the coal piles in stark light before dimming. Probably not, his mental whisper carried a chilling detachment. She needs his magic whole... intact. Like a farmer needs fertile soil. Aladdin choked on the thick, sulfurous air. Ugo’s spectral smile was faintly visible, sad and knowing. But he cannot leave now. His signature... his very soul... is bound to her contract. The boiler roared as Ugo’s voice grew heavier. We are all prisoners here. Ever since Gyokuen’s husband fell lifeless years ago, the doors between worlds sealed tighter than a tomb. A wistful sigh seemed to stir the steam. If only someone could shatter the chains binding this place... Aladdin’s gaze dropped. He ducked his head, his braid brushing his knees. "I can’t," he mumbled, the words thick with shame. He hugged his knees tighter. "I’m weak. Pathetic. Judar always... always protected me." His voice dissolved into a choked whisper. "Without him... I'm nothing."

Alibaba stepped forward, squeezing Aladdin’s trembling shoulder firmly. "You’re not weak," he insisted, his voice rough but steady, echoing against the clang of shovels from Ugo’s spectral creatures feeding coal into the furnace. "You’re still here. Fighting." He glared pointedly at Ugo’s cage. "We will find a way to help Judar. Even if..." Alibaba swallowed hard, forcing conviction into his tone. "Even if Hakuryuu meant... maybe Judar can still leave?" Ugo’s glow pulsed a slow, definitive red. Not possible, his silent voice cut through the hope like ice. Judar signed a contract written in spirit blood. Just like mine. The coal-shoveling creatures paused, their glowing eyes flickering towards Aladdin. Nobody walks free, Ugo concluded, his voice fading to a hollow drone. Work... or dissolve. Exhaustion crashed over Aladdin. He slid down the wall, collapsing onto the grimy floor. His eyes tracked the hypnotic rhythm of Ugo’s creatures tossing glowing coal into the roaring belly of the furnace. Slowly, his eyelids grew impossibly heavy. Later, as his breathing deepened into sleep, tremors still wracking his thin frame, Ugo’s luminous form stretched subtly outward. A shimmering blanket of pure, cool light settled gently over Aladdin, warding off the oppressive heat and despair.

----

Hakuryuu slipped into Judar’s cavernous suite, the scent of cedar in the air. Moonlight sliced through tall windows, illuminating Judar sprawled across the vast bed, his impossibly long black hair fanning out like spilled ink across silk sheets. His face, usually sharp with defiance, was soft in sleep—lips slightly parted, breath even. Hakuryuu moved silently, boots discarded at the doorway, until he stood beside the bed. He traced the curve of Judar’s cheekbone with a calloused thumb, the skin warm beneath his touch. "You’re utterly beautiful," Hakuryuu breathed, his voice barely a whisper. Judar’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes like smoldering rubies. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. "Y-you’re awake," Hakuryuu stammered, pulling his hand back. Judar caught his wrist. "Don’t stop," he murmured, pulling Hakuryuu closer. "I want to hear you say those things."

Their lips met—a soft press that quickly deepened. Hakuryuu’s palm slid to Judar’s jaw, anchoring him as Judar arched into the kiss. "Aladdin," Hakuryuu murmured against his mouth when they parted. "I talked to him." Judar hummed, fingers tangling in Hakuryuu’s dark hair. "He’s alright?" Hakuryuu nodded. "Your brother has... fierce friends. He’ll be alright." Judar’s smile turned wistful. "I know he has. He always gets people to adore him." A shadow crossed Hakuryuu’s face. "You couldn’t make friends," he whispered. "Is that why you hated him?" Judar’s grip tightened. "No," he rasped. "I don’t... hate him. It’s just..." He exhaled sharply. "I was jealous. Because he’s such a weakling, and yet he could do everything I couldn’t. Everyone loved him." His voice cracked. "Nobody..."

"I love you," Hakuryuu interrupted, turning Judar’s face back toward him. Judar tried to look away, but Hakuryuu held firm. "To protect you," Hakuryuu vowed, his thumb brushing the corner of Judar’s eye. "I’ll do everything I can." A single tear escaped Judar’s lashes—not from sorrow, but a profound, shuddering relief. He surged forward, kissing Hakuryuu fiercely. Silk robes slipped from Judar’s shoulders as Hakuryuu pressed him into the mattress, the fabric pooling like dark water around them. Hakuryuu’s lips trailed down Judar’s throat, tasting salt and cedar, while Judar’s hands raked possessively through Hakuryuu’s hair. Outside, Gyokuen’s bathhouse chimed midnight—a hollow, distant sound.

----

Judar awoke to a splitting headache that felt like claws scraping his skull. His throat burned raw, every swallow agony. Sunlight streamed through tall windows where Hakuryuu sat silhouetted—immaculate in embroidered robes, spine rigid as he watched a spirit train glide soundlessly over the crimson marsh. "Fuck," Judar rasped, pushing tangled black hair from his eyes as he realized he was naked beneath tangled sheets. "My head... hurts like hell." He clutched his throat, panic seeping in. "W-What’s wrong with me?" Hakuryuu didn’t turn, his gaze fixed on the vanishing train. "I sealed your powers," he stated, voice flat as polished stone. "You can’t break this magic."

Judar shoved himself upright, sheets pooling at his waist. "No!" he choked out, scrambling toward Hakuryuu. "If I can’t wield magic, I’m useless! Your mother... she’ll discard me!" Desperation clawed up his chest. "She said I could only stay with you if I obeyed her!" Hakuryuu finally turned, his blue eyes glacial, emotionless pools beneath the shadow of his golden hairpiece. "I know," he said quietly. "But I promised both you and Aladdin to protect you from her grip." He paused, the scarred side of his face catching the light. "If you become useless to her, she will—"

"Hakuryuu!" Gyokuen’s shriek shattered the air like breaking glass. The heavy doors exploded inward, splintering against the walls. She moved like poisoned lightning—a blur of silk and fury—her fingers closing around Hakuryuu’s throat before Judar could blink. She slammed him against the wall, cracking plaster. "Undo it!" she snarled, spittle flying. "I need Judar’s power!" Hakuryuu didn’t struggle, his breath a ragged wheeze. "No," he forced out, gaze locked on hers. "You broke a family apart to leash Judar... but it was all in vain." His voice hardened. "I don’t care what you do to me. I won’t release his curse." Gyokuen’s grip tightened, her knuckles white against Hakuryuu’s scarred skin. "My dear little Hakuryuu," she rasped, predatory sweetness dripping from her words. "Don’t you want your brothers back?" Hakuryuu’s laugh was a dry, broken sound. "No matter what I do... you’ll never release them." His eyes burned with decades of bitterness. "Twenty years of servitude... and you never lifted a finger for them. Or me." He tilted his head, baring his throat. "Now do what you must. Kill me." A defiant smile touched his lips. "Lose my power too."

Gyokuen’s snarl twisted into something inhuman as Hakuryuu’s defiance hung thick in the air. Her fingers dug deeper into his throat, the sickening crunch of cartilage audible beneath her manicured nails. Hakuryuu’s eyes widened briefly—a flicker of shock before settling into glacial acceptance—as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. "Then rot!" Gyokuen shrieked, her form blurring at the edges like ink in water. She flung him sideways with impossible force. Hakuryuu crashed through the ornate cedar window frame in an explosion of splintered wood and shattered glass, plummeting silently toward the crimson marsh far below. Judar screamed, a raw, animal sound tearing from his ruined throat. He lunged, tangled sheets tripping him, but only managed to scramble to the jagged hole where cold wind whipped in, carrying the scent of sulfur and damp earth. Below, Hakuryuu’s crumpled form lay motionless on the boggy bank, dark robes stark against the lurid red mud, the black cat scrambling frantically toward him, a tiny mouse clutched in its jaws.

"You!" Gyokuen’s voice cut through Judar’s horror. He whipped around, trembling violently. She stood silhouetted against the ruined doorway, her shadow stretching long and monstrous across the scattered silk and shattered porcelain littering the floor. Her eyes, cold pits devoid of mercy, locked onto his. "Useless vermin," she spat, the words sharp as knives. "Out of my sight. Your pitiful flame is extinguished." She turned dismissively toward the shattered window, her gaze dragging over Hakuryuu’s distant body with detached appraisal. "A dragon’s hide... wasted," she murmured, almost thoughtfully. "Such fine scales... a pity they’ll soon decorate my halls." Her cruel smile widened. "Perhaps I’ll retrieve them later. A fitting tribute." She didn't even look back as the heavy tread of boots echoed behind Judar.

Seizing chains rattled. Before Judar could react, thick iron links whipped around his wrists, biting deep. Pain flared as he was yanked backward, crashing onto the debris-strewn floor. Morgiana stood rigidly behind him, her expression a mask of stony emptiness, the chains wrapped firmly around her massive forearms. Her eyes stared straight ahead, unseeing, as Jamil—Gyokuen’s hawk-faced lieutenant—held the other end taut. "He’s yours," Gyokuen commanded Jamil, gesturing vaguely at Judar. Her gaze flicked toward the window. "Take Hakuryuu away, too. Dump him in the Abyss Pits with the other refuse." Jamil bowed curtly. "As you command, Mistress." Morgiana began dragging Judar toward the door. He thrashed wildly, chains clanging, his scream raw. "No! Hakuryuu! He's ALIVE! Don't hurt him!

Gyokuen watched indifferently as Morgiana hauled Judar into the shadowed corridor. Only then did she stride toward the shattered window ledge. Below, Hakuryuu lay half-submerged in crimson marsh sludge, his breathing shallow, ragged bubbles forming at his lips. The black cat Hakuren was frantically licking his face, the trembling mouse clutching his torn robe. "Such loyalty," Gyokuen murmured, her voice dripping with contempt. She raised her hand. A cold, violet light coalesced above Hakuryuu’s prone form. It pulsed once, violently, then slammed downward like a hammer. Hakuryuu’s body jerked, a choked gasp escaping him before he fell utterly still. The cat froze mid-lick, a low, guttural wail tearing from its throat. The tiny mouse shivered violently, pressing itself against Hakuryuu’s motionless chest. "Sleep now, little dragon," Gyokuen commanded softly. "You’re easier to move when you don’t struggle." She turned sharply as Jamil reappeared, his boots crunching on broken glass. "Dispose of him," she ordered.

Judar strained against Morgiana’s iron grip, chains biting into his wrists as they descended a narrow, stone staircase choked with steam. Spirits drifted past them, their translucent forms carrying Hakuryuu’s limp body draped over a stretcher of woven reeds. His head lolled, dark hair matted with blood and mud, his scarred face unnervingly peaceful. The spirits floated toward a gaping pit in the cavern wall – the Abyss Shaft – its depths radiating cold, damp air that smelled of rot and wet stone. The cat followed silently, a dark shadow slinking through the gloom, his feline form rigid with tension. Judar’s breath hitched; his eyes locked on Hakuryuu’s still form until it vanished into the darkness of the shaft. Only the soft scrape of the cat’s claws on stone followed the descent. "Don’t worry," Judar whispered, his voice rough and strained, barely audible over the roar of unseen boilers. "He isn’t dead. Gyokuen would never kill her most valuable tool." The black cat paused, golden eyes flashing upward to meet Judar’s for a fleeting, intense moment before silently continuing its descent into the shadows.

Chapter 3 Chapter Text

The air grew thick and suffocating as Morgiana dragged Judar deeper into the bathhouse’s underbelly. They emerged into a vast chamber where the roar was deafening – a cavern filled with colossal, corroded copper boilers glowing cherry-red, hissing steam vents spraying scalding mist, and thick pipes dripping scalding water into troughs below. Spirits in tattered rags shoveled coal with mechanical desperation, their translucent forms flickering under the oppressive heat. "Morgiana!" Jamil’s sharp command cut through the din as he shoved Judar forward. "This useless scrap is yours now. Show him how slaves earn their keep here." Morgiana nodded mutely, her vacant eyes fixed straight ahead. She seized a shovel crusted with ash and thrust it into Judar’s chained hands. The rough wood bit into his palms. "Start shoveling," Jamil hissed, jabbing a finger toward the nearest furnace mouth radiating blistering heat.

Judar stumbled toward the coal pile, the chains clanking heavily. Sweat plastered his long black hair to his face almost instantly as the heat seared his lungs with every breath. He jammed the shovel into the jagged black lumps, the impact jarring his shoulders. Each heave felt like lifting stones; the coal dust choked him, coating his tongue with grit and bitterness. Beside him, Morgiana worked with terrifying efficiency, her muscles straining without a flicker of fatigue. Judar glanced up, catching a glimpse of her impassive face – a mask hiding whatever torment her master had inflicted. Above them, Jamil leaned against a rusted pipe, smirking as he watched Judar struggle. The clang of shovels, the roar of fire, the suffocating steam – it pressed in, stripping away his pride until only raw, burning shame remained. He was useless. Weak.

A soft pressure brushed against Judar’s ankle. He glanced down. Hakuryuu’s black cat wove silently between his legs, golden eyes fixed on him. The tiny mouse peeked from beneath the cat’s chin. Judar paused, shovel trembling in his grip. He isn’t dead, he thought fiercely, directing the thought toward the cat, unable to speak through the dust-clogged air. She needs him alive. She needs his strength.

Jamil seized the moment. "Look at him, Morgiana!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the furnace roar. He gestured broadly, drawing the attention of nearby spirits and weary laborers. "Look, everyone! The grand magician that was promised is struggling to shovel coal!" Laughter erupted—a harsh, metallic sound from coal-dusted gods and sneering human attendants. Judar flinched as he struggled to lift a heavy bucket of steaming water, his chains clanking. Jamil’s boot shot out, hooking Judar’s ankle. He crashed face-first onto the grimy stone floor, scalding water sloshing over his back. Pain seared through him, but deeper still was the humiliation. "You’re so pathetic," Jamil crowed, pressing a boot between Judar’s shoulder blades. "Didn’t you swagger around like you owned the realms just days ago?" He leaned down, his breath hot and sour against Judar’s ear. "Don’t think sleeping with Gyokuen’s spoiled brat made you better than us. Now you’re just filth."

Judar lay paralyzed, the laughter echoing like stones dropped into a deep well—freak, unnatural, waste of space—memories of human schoolyards, Solomon’s disappointed sighs, Aladdin’s wide, pitying eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut, grit scraping his cheek. Jamil’s weight shifted, the sole of his boot grinding into the back of Judar’s skull, pressing his face into the wet, ashy muck. "Look," Jamil declared triumphantly. "He doesn’t even fight. Knows his place now—"

"STOP IT!" Aladdin’s voice pierced the din, high and desperate. He barreled through the crowd, small fists clenched, braided blue hair whipping behind him. "Leave him alone! What are you doing?!" He shoved futilely at Jamil’s leg. Jamil whirled, eyes narrowing. "He’s my property, brat," he hissed, shoving Aladdin backward. Morgiana caught him before he fell, her expression flickering—a crack in her stony mask. Aladdin wrenched free, planting himself over Judar. "NO!" he yelled, voice trembling but defiant. "Nobody is anyone’s property! Hakuryuu isn’t! Morgiana isn’t! And Judar isn’t!" The laughter died. Jamil’s face darkened, fury tightening his features like a fist. He raised his hand, magic crackling at his fingertips—a sickly violet light gathering. Aladdin didn’t flinch. Behind him, the black cat arched its back, a low, warning growl rumbling in its throat, its golden eyes blazing.

Aladdin hauled Judar upright, small arms straining under Judar’s weight. Chains clanked as Judar stumbled, his face caked in wet ash and blood, eyes wide with disbelief. Aladdin glared at Jamil with pure, furious defiance—a willpower radiating from his slight frame that Judar had never seen. "Come on!" Aladdin gasped, dragging Judar toward a narrow service tunnel choked with steam pipes. Morgiana silently blocked Jamil’s path, her frame suddenly immovable as she stared blankly ahead, ignoring his furious commands. They plunged into the humid gloom, the roar of boilers muffled behind them. Aladdin shoved Judar against a dripping pipe in the dimness. Judar slumped, chains rattling. "Im... sorry," he rasped, voice raw and broken, his head hanging low. "Shit... I am... nothing now."

"You’re my brother!" Aladdin snapped fiercely, grabbing Judar’s chin, forcing him to meet his teary blue gaze. Dust motes danced in the faint light filtering through grimy vents. "I’m not," Judar muttered, wrenching his face away, the chains biting deeper into his wrists. "Just... adopted trash Solomon picked up off the street." Aladdin slammed his small fist against the pipe beside Judar’s head. "I don’t care!" he yelled, the echo sharp in the confined space. His voice trembled, but his eyes burned with conviction. "Look at me! I’m getting you out of here!"

"Hakuryuu..." Judar whispered suddenly, his gaze darting wildly into the shadows. "Help me find him." His voice cracked. "He’s... down in the pits. Still alive." Aladdin froze, blinking. Judar had never asked him for anything—not once. "I don’t know where..." Judar choked, desperation clawing at his throat. "Please, Aladdin!" The plea ripped itself free, jagged and raw. Aladdin swallowed hard, seeing the sheer terror in Judar’s red eyes. "Okay," he breathed, nodding quickly. "Lead the way." He scanned the dripping tunnel urgently. "But we need to hurry—Jamil will send guards any second."

Judar stumbled toward a grating in the tunnel wall, chains clattering loudly on the wet stone. Below yawned a steep, spiraling chasm—the Abyss Shaft. Cold, stagnant air reeking of mildew and decay rose from its depths. At the bottom, illuminated by faint phosphorescent moss clinging to damp walls, lay Hakuryuu’s crumpled form—no longer human. Snow-white scales shimmered weakly under the eerie light where dark robes had been ripped away. One vast, tattered wing lay twisted unnaturally beneath him. Judar’s breath hitched. "Hakuryuu!" His cry echoed down the shaft, sharp and desperate. He scrambled toward a rusted ladder bolted to the wall. "That’s what Hakuryuu is?" Aladdin gasped, peering down at the dragon’s heaving flank. "Shut up and help me, chibi!" Judar snarled, already halfway down the ladder, chains scraping metal. "Hold him steady! He’s bleeding!"

Aladdin scrambled frantically down beside him. Judar knelt beside the massive dragon head, Hakuryuu’s labored breaths puffing hot steam against his face. Judar pressed trembling hands against a deep gash weeping crimson onto white scales. "Come on, idiot!" Judar hissed. "Get up!" Aladdin pushed against the dragon’s heavy shoulder. But long, shifting shadows detached from the mossy walls, coalescing into clawed appendages that lunged silently toward Hakuryuu’s exposed throat. "Shit!" Judar screamed, throwing himself bodily over the dragon’s neck. Cold shadow-claws raked across Judar’s back, tearing his thin shirt and drawing blood. "Not him!" Judar roared, pure rage scorching through his veins. "FUCK OFF!" He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing out his arm instinctively against the writhing darkness. A sudden, blinding flash of crystalline cold lashed out—sharp, piercing shards of pure ice exploded from Judar’s palm. They sliced through the shadows with vicious precision, impaling them against the cavern wall. The air crackled violently; a wave of biting frost surged outward, instantly freezing the seeping wall-moss, coating the stone floor in glittering ice, and locking the shadows in place like grotesque statues.

Judar gasped, staring at his own hands in bewildered horror. His skin prickled with a power both alien and terrifyingly familiar. "Judar," Gyokuen’s voice purred, thick as honeyed poison, echoing unnaturally from above. She stood silhouetted at the shaft’s rim, looking down. Her eyes gleamed with predatory triumph, utterly ignoring Hakuryuu’s prone form. "I knew you could awaken such power... with the proper motivation." Understanding slammed into Judar—cold and brutal. "A trap!" he spat, ice crystals still shimmering faintly around his fingertips. " You think I’ll give you this power? After you were willing to murder your own son?!" Gyokuen laughed—a sound like cracking ice. “Murder? Oh no, dear Judar. Hakuryuu was never truly in danger. He understands loyalty... to me. Always has." Her gaze slid pointedly to Aladdin, trembling beside the dragon. "What I didn’t expect... was that you’d be selfless enough to beg this child for help. So precious." Her smile widened, chillingly sweet. "I ask you now, Judar. Make your choice. Serve me faithfully—as you swore you would—and Hakuryuu lives. This boy lives. Refuse..." Her voice hardened into jagged steel. "...and I will personally tear them both apart."

Save Hakuryuu, Judar ordered himself, swallowing thickly against the bile rising in his throat. His gaze locked onto Hakuryuu’s shallow breaths, the faint pulse visible at his bruised temple. "I’ll do... whatever you ask," he rasped, the words scraping his throat raw, tasting of ashes and surrender. He deliberately avoided Aladdin’s horrified stare. "Anything."

"I am pleased to hear that," Gyokuen purred, her victorious smile stretching unnaturally wide as she flicked her wrist. Chains of violet light slithered down the shaft, wrapping around Hakuryuu's limp dragon form. With a sickening crack of shifting bone, his scaled body shrank and reshaped—snow-white hide retreating into scarred, pale skin until the battered, unconscious human lay suspended midair, bleeding from identical wounds. Aladdin grabbed Judar's chained wrist, his small fingers trembling against the cold metal links. "Don't!" he urged, desperation cracking his voice as he tugged Judar backward toward a dripping service tunnel. "We can run away now! While she's distracted!" But Judar wrenched his arm free, eyes locked on Hakuryuu's rising form. "Not without him," he stated, voice flat and final, like stone settling on a grave. His gaze never wavered from Hakuryuu's bruised face. "I love him." Aladdin stumbled back as if struck, his blue braid swinging wildly. "Love?" he whispered, disbelief widening his eyes as Gyokuen began hauling Hakuryuu upward. The chains clinked rhythmically against stone like a macabre clock.

"Come, Judar," Gyokuen commanded, her voice echoing with false gentleness as Hakuryuu's body levitated past them toward the shaft's rim. "Say your farewells." Judar turned to Aladdin, his expression unreadable in the moss-green gloom. Chains scraped stone as he lifted his hand—not to touch, but in a gesture of finality. "Sorry, chibi," he murmured, the words barely audible over the dripping water. Then he strode past, climbing the rusted ladder without looking back, his long black hair snagging on jagged bolts. Aladdin choked on a sob, sinking to his knees on the freezing, ice-crusted floor Hakuryuu had bled onto moments before. The acrid scent of Judar's crystallized magic still hung thick, mingling with the metallic tang of blood and the damp decay rising from the pit.

----

Hakuryuu woke to the familiar scent of dried herbs and polished wood, blinking against the soft glow filtering through the dark green canopy above him. Golden and silver crystals suspended from the ceiling cast fractured light across rare artifacts—a jade serpent coiling around an obsidian hourglass, a tapestry depicting celestial dragons battling storm clouds—arranged meticulously alongside dark mahogany cabinets overflowing with scrolls. The comforting weight of his black cat sprawled across his lap purred softly, its warmth seeping through the silk sheets. Pain flared like hot coals beneath the linen bandages circling his ribs and arms when he tried to shift, drawing a sharp breath. "Serves you right," Judar muttered, his voice thick with sleep yet edged like shattered glass. He lay sprawled on a nest of embroidered floor pillows below Hakuryuu’s ornate bed, one arm flung over his eyes, ink-stained fingers twitching.

"How am I—?" Hakuryuu’s gaze drifted to the tiny mouse skittering across his embroidered blanket before settling on Judar’s rumpled form. "Why are you here?" The question hung brittle in the air, laden with unspoken dread—the memory of Gyokuen’s chains, the crushing weight of betrayal, the Abyss Shaft's chilling darkness. Judar’s hand snapped down from his face, revealing eyes burning crimson in the dim light. "You thought wrong," he hissed, the words slicing through the quiet like a blade. Despite the initial rush of relief that had flooded him when Hakuryuu’s eyelids finally fluttered open, Judar’s voice trembled with a raw, wounded fury. "You thought fucking me, stealing my magic, and letting your psycho mother almost kill you would—what? Make me realize I needed to scamper home with Aladdin? Didn’t you?!"

He surged upright, chains forgotten but still clinking faintly at his wrists. "You didn’t once fucking ask!" Judar’s shout echoed off the crystal-studded walls, making Hakuryuu’s cat flatten its ears. "You decided what was best—like I’m some stupid kid! Like I’m not here, drowning in this gods-forsaken bathhouse hell for you!" His chest heaved, the bandages on his own shadow-claw wounds visible beneath his torn shirt. "You didn’t think…" His voice cracked, dropping to a venomous whisper. "That maybe I need you too, you self-sacrificing idiot." Hakuryuu watched the mouse burrow nervously into the folds of his blanket. "I’m sorry," he murmured.

"Shove that apology up your ass," Judar snarled, turning his back abruptly, shoulders rigid. He picked violently at a loose thread on a velvet pillow. "You don’t get to nearly die and then whisper ‘sorry’ like it fixes anything." The silence stretched, thick with tension. Hakuryuu’s fingers brushed the cat’s fur, seeking solace. "You fucking hurt me," Judar added, the words low and fractured, spoken not to the room, but to the shadows dancing on the dark green walls.

Hakuryuu shifted painfully, wincing as he braced himself on his elbows. "I know," he breathed, watching Judar’s tense silhouette. "I thought... pushing you away would protect you." Judar whirled around, eyes blazing. "Protect me?" he spat, voice cracking. "By letting me watch Gyokuen almost rip your throat out? By making me beg Aladdin?" He kicked the pillow away violently. "You think that helped?" Hakuryuu flinched at the raw pain in Judar’s voice. "No," he admitted softly. "It didn't. It was... selfish." He met Judar’s furious gaze. "But I don’t want you gone. I never did."

Judar stared at him, breath coming fast. "Then stop trying to martyr yourself for me!" he demanded. Hakuryuu’s gaze dropped to his own scarred hands gripping the sheets. "I didn’t... I didn’t sleep with you to steal your power," he murmured, the confession heavy. "Or to trick you." Judar scoffed bitterly. "Really? Because letting me fall for you right before you planned to throw me out felt pretty fucking convenient." Hakuryuu’s head snapped up, genuine shock widening his blue eyes. "Throw you out? Never. I wanted..." He hesitated, swallowing hard. "...to keep you safe. From her. Like I failed to keep my brothers safe." The unspoken agony in his voice struck Judar silent.

"You can wield magic," Hakuryuu finally whispered, breaking the tension. "That's why she brought you back?" Judar nodded weakly, collapsing back onto the pillows. "Why else?" he muttered, exhaustion bleeding into defeat. Hakuryuu shifted painfully, his hand instinctively reaching out toward Judar's shoulder. "At least you're safe." But Judar flinched violently. "Don't touch me again," he hissed, venom lacing his words. "Just because I'm staying here, breathing this poisoned air for you, doesn't mean I'll let you manipulate me again." Hakuryuu frowned deeply, hurt flashing across his scarred face. "You think I slept with you because I wanted your magic?" His voice dropped to a raw whisper. "To send you away? You know I wouldn't—"

"I don't know!" Judar snapped, bitterness twisting his features. Hakuryuu winced, then slowly, carefully lowered himself from the bed, kneeling beside Judar amidst the scattered pillows. He faced him squarely despite the pain etched into his own expression. "Listen," he breathed, his voice barely audible over the cat's soft purr. "I tried... gods, I tried to do what I thought would save your life. What I thought was right." Judar glared, unconvinced. "Serving her can't be that bad," he argued pointedly. "You did it for years. Why can't I endure it—just for a while?" Hakuryuu’s eyes softened, a flicker of something vulnerable breaking through the stoic mask. "You're right," he admitted quietly. "I don't... don't truly want you to leave." He swallowed hard. "I was just terrified she'd turn you to stone... or worse."

"Yeah," Judar hissed, leaning closer, his red eyes blazing. "Your mother is a fucking bitch. She was ready to kill you, Hakuryuu! For gods' sake!" He jabbed a finger against Hakuryuu’s bandaged chest, making him gasp. "I told you—we get stronger. Then we fight her. One. On. One!" Hakuryuu couldn't suppress a faint, pained chuckle. "You and your rebellions," he murmured, a ghost of affection in his voice. Almost unconsciously, he leaned forward, pressing a soft, apologetic kiss to Judar's exposed shoulder. "Keep in mind... if we lost," he whispered against his skin, the words urgent, "Aladdin would suffer for it. Or you." He pulled back slightly, meeting Judar's wary gaze. "That's why... I erased Hakuei's memory of our brothers. I don't want her fighting a battle she can't win." Judar groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. " There it is. You love doing that, don't you? Erasing memories, locking away powers—all that shady shit!" He glared fiercely. "You do that to me once more time, Hakuryuu... I swear, I'll rip this damn bathhouse apart brick by brick." Hakuryuu managed a small, genuine smile. "I promise," he said softly, his fingers brushing Judar’s knuckles tentatively. "I won't."

Judar hesitated—then nodded curtly. "Fine." Before Hakuryuu could react, Judar surged forward, pressing his lips fiercely against Hakuryuu’s—a brief, desperate kiss that stole his breath. He pulled back slightly, a wry smile playing on his lips. "You should’ve told me," Judar murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle as his thumb traced the curve of Hakuryuu’s jawline. "That you were that dragon I saw gliding through the fog on my first night here." His crimson eyes softened, holding Hakuryuu’s gaze. "You’re utterly beautiful," Judar whispered, the words tender as snowflakes landing on skin. "Like fallen, untouched snow."

Hakuryuu’s cheeks flushed crimson—a stark contrast to his pale scars—and he ducked his head, unable to meet Judar’s intense stare. "If you say so..." he muttered, fingers nervously twisting the silk bedsheet. "I mean... that’s my true self. But I’m nothing more than a dragon meant to protect, not fight." He winced slightly, recalling the frozen shards erupting from Judar’s hands. "That’s why my magic couldn’t hold yours back when you defended me." He let out a shaky breath. "You’re strong. And I’m... not."

Judar grinned, sharp and dazzling. "Who gives a shit about power?" He nudged Hakuryuu’s chin up with a knuckle. "You," Hakuryuu laughed softly, the sound rasping against his bruised ribs. Judar shook his head vehemently, strands of ink-black hair cascading over his shoulders. "We’re equal, you and me," he purred, shifting closer until their foreheads touched. His voice dropped to a low, intimate rumble. "Strength isn’t just ice shards or dragon scales. It’s this." His hand pressed lightly over Hakuryuu’s bandaged wound—not over the injury, but over the heartbeat beneath. "You kept fighting for something. That’s why Gyokuen’s terrified of us."

The polished oak door swung open abruptly. "Ah, lovely!" Jamil chirped with false cheer, his sharp eyes scanning the intimate tableau—Judar’s hand still pressed over Hakuryuu’s heart, their foreheads touching. He stood flanked by Gyokuen and a silver-haired man whose cold, calculating gaze swept the room like a blade. Hakuryuu instinctively tensed, shifting to rise despite the agony flaring in his ribs. "Fatima, Lord Jamil," he greeted stiffly, nodding with glacial politeness. His gaze deliberately slid past Gyokuen, who hovered with a saccharine, innocent smile plastered on her face.

"Don’t move for my sake, darling," Gyokuen cooed, stepping forward. Her ruby-red lips curved wider. "I’m so happy you two are getting along... so, well." Her serpentine eyes locked onto Judar. "Judar, my dear, come with me. We have many distinguished guests tonight—high-ranked spirits eager to greet my newest apprentice."She gestured gracefully toward the corridor’s distant murmur of laughter and clinking glasses. "Why don’t you join us there? I made sure..." Her voice dipped into a venomous whisper. "...you could see your dear Aladdin too. Or did you already forget him," her smile sharpened, "now that my son is spreading his legs for you?"

"Shut up," Hakuryuu hissed, the words cracking like ice. He tried to surge forward, but Judar’s hand clamped like iron on his shoulder. "You’re not going to drag him down to drown in that cesspool and make him watch you work Aladdin to death!" Hakuryuu yelled. Gyokuen’s laugh was a silvery chime that scraped bone. "Oh, didn’t we have that discussion already, Hakuryuu? There’s nothing you can do anymore." Her gaze pinned Judar.

Judar’s fingers tightened on Hakuryuu’s shoulder—a silent command. "She’s right," he murmured, voice flat. "You told me it’s no use fighting her." Gyokuen’s smile widened as she stroked Judar’s tangled hair like a prized pet. " Smart child." Hakuryuu trembled, breath ragged. "I understand now," he whispered, glaring at his mother. "You’re not doing this to taunt Aladdin. You’re torturing me because I can’t kill you for what you do to them." His blue eyes burned. "You’re a monster. Someone like you should never rule this place."

Gyokuen threw back her head, laughter echoing off the crystal walls. "Oh, how sweet! You sound exactly like Hakuyuu and Hakuren." She leaned in, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "But you’re too weak to fight me, aren’t you?" Her hand shot out, seizing Judar’s wrist. "Now come, Judar. And Hakuryuu, if you`re so worried why don`t you come with us? I`m not excluding you."

----

Hours later, Hakuryuu frowned, arms crossed tight against his chest as he stood beside a steaming hot tub carved from volcanic glass. Judar lay submerged up to his collarbones, surrounded by attendants—a deer-headed servant painting his nails crimson while two others with feathered arms massaged perfumed oils into the obsidian waterfall of hair fanned out across the tiles. The air hung thick with jasmine and sulfur. Judar’s eyes were closed, one arm draped languidly over the tub’s edge as another attendant buffed his knuckles. "Relax," Judar murmured without opening his eyes, withdrawing his arm to fold both hands behind his head. He cracked a lazy smile toward Hakuryuu’s rigid silhouette. "It’s just some fancy dinner-bullshit. You worry too much."

"It’s not," Hakuryuu argued, his knuckles whitening where he gripped his sleeves. "She said Aladdin will be serving trays tonight. She wants to parade you around, knowing I hate it—that I’ll see her smirk while she proves she can do whatever she wants with you." He leaned closer, voice dropping to a fevered whisper. "That you’re hers." Judar chuckled, the sound low and syrupy as he shifted through the bubbling water, making space beside him. "Oh, so that’s why the anger," he grinned, patting the steaming surface. "Don’t be jealous. Come join me. These oils cost more than Solomon’s car."

"No thank you," Hakuryuu sighed, scanning the arched doorway where shadows twisted into fleeting shapes. His jaw tightened. "Wait here. I’ll be right back." He returned moments later with a young woman whose long, dark-blue hair mirrored his own—though hers cascaded freely past slender shoulders, framing gentle eyes the same shade as Hakuryuu’s. She bowed gracefully, steam curling around her simple bathhouse attendant robes. "This is Hakuei," Hakuryuu murmured, his voice softening almost imperceptibly. "My sister. She works the lotus pools." Hakuei smiled warmly, extending a hand toward the tub. "Pleased to meet you, Judar-san. I know Aladdin well—he helps me feed the river carp. He’s really kind."

"Yeah, whatever," Judar scoffed, sinking deeper into the bubbling water so it lapped at his chin. He waved away the deer-headed attendant currently combing rose-scented oil through his inky hair. "What’s the point? I’m not nice like him."

"I have a favor to ask," Hakuryuu interrupted, turning sharply to Hakuei. "Make sure Aladdin isn’t here tonight serving our high guests. I have a bad feeling." Hakuei sighed patiently, adjusting a simple wooden hairpin securing her own dark blue hair. "Really, Hakuryuu? How many times do I have to tell you Mother isn’t dangerous?" She shook her head gently.

As Hakuryuu frowned, Hakuei continued softly, "The slave owners like Budel and Jamil...that’s another thing. I wish they’d be removed from this place." Her eyes darkened momentarily. "Last time I heard, one of them even tortured Judar in front of everyone else. Humiliating him because he`d lost his status here..." Hakuryuu’s head snapped toward Judar, surprise flickering across his scarred face. But Judar just shrugged dismissively, sinking deeper into the steaming bubbles. "

"Yeah, fuck them," Judar muttered, swirling a hand through the perfumed water. Crimson droplets scattered like blood against the black glass. "So maybe I just... command them gone? Poof." He snapped his fingers lazily, sending steam swirling. Hakuryuu’s lips twitched, a rare flicker of amusement cutting through his tension. "You’re not suddenly in charge here just because Fatima drowns you in expensive rose oils every afternoon." Judar’s eyes narrowed playfully. "You’re one to talk, Mr.Flawless-Appearance-Without-Having-To-Work-For-It." He gestured broadly between Hakuryuu and Hakuei, whose luminous skin seemed to glow in the humid air. "Seriously! Everyone in your damn family looks like they stepped off a divine tapestry! What’s your secret? Dragon scales in the shampoo?" Hakuryuu shrugged, pushing a damp strand of dark-blue hair from his forehead. "Water." Judar groaned, sinking until bubbles obscured his scowl. "See? Fucking unfair."

Hakuryuu watched Hakuei depart, her robes whispering against the wet tiles. His gaze lingered on the doorway, then shifted back to Judar, who was now letting a spirit servant meticulously paint tiny silver dragons onto his nails. A soft, involuntary breath escaped Hakuryuu, a sound almost lost beneath the gurgling tubs and distant murmurs. “Isn’t he cute?” he murmured, eyes fixed on Judar’s relaxed posture – the defiant tilt of his chin, the way his long, oil-dark lashes brushed his cheekbones as he inspected his newly adorned fingers.

Hakuei paused halfway through the arched exit, turning her head sharply. Her gentle brow furrowed. “What?” she asked, her voice echoing slightly in the sudden quiet. “Cute?” Hakuryuu stiffened, his scarred cheek flushing faintly. He didn’t look at her, focusing intently on a dripping stalactite overhead instead. “Yes,” he uttered, the word clipped. He spun abruptly on his heel, robes swirling. “Please make sure to send Aladdin away from us. Give him any job, anything, no matter how unimportant. Take him to the dragonfly gardens, the deep vaults, anywhere… just ensure Mother cannot demand his presence near the main hall tonight.” Hakuei blinked, confusion deepening. Hakuryuu’s intensity was alarming. “I don’t know what’s so important about it,” she muttered, stepping closer, lowering her voice. "But alright." She bowed deeply before Judar, whose crimson eyes watched them with detached curiosity. As Hakuei straightened and moved to follow her brother out, she added softly, firm despite her confusion, "But if I do this, Hakuryuu... you promise to tell me what's truly going on with you and that man."

Hakuryuu stopped dead at the threshold. Steam curled around his rigid shoulders. Without turning, his voice dropped low and rough, rasping against the humid air. "Simple," he said, the word heavy, final. "He’s mine. And Mother hates that. She’ll hurt me… by hurting him." He paused, the silence thick with unspoken terror. "Don’t let her." Hakuei froze, the warmth leaching from her face. The implication was a cold knife sliding between her ribs. "...Okay," she breathed, the word barely audible. She didn't understand – couldn't fathom the darkness shadowing Hakuryuu’s words – but the terrifying seriousness in his eyes was undeniable. Turning swiftly, Hakuei snapped her fingers. Two frog-like attendants materialized from the swirling mist. "Find Aladdin," she commanded, her voice regaining its gentle steel. "Immediately. Tell him Hakuei-neesan needs him in the Moonlit Lotus grove. Right now. Tell him… the silver carp are sick." She watched them hop away, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.

----

"Still sulking?" Alibaba murmured softly, crouching beside Ugo's crystalline form nestled near a trickling hot spring. Aladdin remained curled tight against the mossy cavern wall, knees hugged to his chest, face buried in folded arms—utterly unmoving. The gentle river god pulsed faintly, his voice echoing like water over stones. "Alibaba… leave him. His brother did not come with him." Nearby, Morgiana silently scrubbed steaming tiles, her gaze flicking toward the boy’s hunched silhouette between strokes. Alibaba sighed, settling cross-legged beside Ugo. "I’ve never thought," he admitted quietly, eyes fixed on Aladdin’s motionless form, "about what it would be like… to finally find my parents… and they said they didn’t want to leave." His throat tightened. "Must be… horrible."

Silently, Alibaba pulled a small cloth pouch from his sleeve—stuffed plump with stolen moon-peaches, star-mint candies, and pink spirulina cakes glittering like crushed jewels. He placed it carefully beside Aladdin’s folded legs. "Here," he whispered. "Stole them from Budel’s private stash. Hopefully he won’t notice… I’m gonna hear a mouthful if he does." Aladdin didn’t stir, but his voice cracked thin and raw from beneath his arms. "Don’t… risk punishment. Not for me." He curled inward tighter—a small, defeated knot against the cavern’s damp warmth. Silence stretched, broken only by the drip of condensation. Then Aladdin’s whisper fractured the quiet: "I don’t know how to go home… without Judar." A choked sob escaped him. "But I miss Mom and Dad too…"

"Forget your parents." Morgiana’s voice sliced through the humid cave air, sharp as flint striking stone. She didn’t pause her scrubbing, her powerful shoulders working rhythmically against the steaming tiles. Aladdin flinched, peeking out from behind his folded arms. Her dark eyes remained fixed on the grout lines, emotionless. "You can’t allow yourself sadness. Despair is inefficient," she continued, the words clinical, detached. A shiver unrelated to the cave’s warmth ran down Aladdin’s spine. "And inefficiency means you can be replaced. Discarded." She finally lifted her gaze, locking onto Aladdin’s tear-streaked face. "Fatima." The name hung heavy with unspoken dread. "He selects the weakest, especially children… and takes them away."

Aladdin whimpered, pressing his face back into his knees. "Some say he kills them," Morgiana added, her tone unchanged. "Or they’re turned into animals." Alibaba slammed his fist onto the wet stone beside him, the slap echoing sharply. "Stop frightening him!" he hissed, fury tightening his voice. He shoved himself between Morgiana and the trembling boy. Morgiana met his glare without flinching. "He needs to learn that lesson," she stated flatly. Her gaze drifted past Alibaba, distant. "I remember you were the same. Eager. Hopeful. Believing this place offered freedom." A bitter, almost imperceptible tremor touched her voice. "Now you’ve been broken, like many of us. You just… do what your master says. Isn’t that right?"

"Morgiana!" The whip-crack shout echoed like a gunshot, followed by the sharp, unmistakable thwack of leather striking wet stone. Jamil stood framed in the cavern entrance, his black hair gleaming in the low spirit-lights, face contorted in contempt. "Don't stand around uselessly!" he barked, the whip handle tapping impatiently against his thigh. "Come here!" Morgiana’s expression didn’t flicker. Without a glance at Aladdin or Alibaba, she rose fluidly, bowed curtly toward Jamil, and strode toward him, her bare feet silent on the damp rock. Alibaba watched her go, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "She’s been here," he told Aladdin softly, turning back, his voice thick with weary understanding, "since she was born, Aladdin. She has no family left." He placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. "Please don't think she's a bad person... just because she seems cold sometimes." Aladdin sniffled, wiping his nose with a shaky hand. "Jamil is..." he began, hesitantly. Alibaba’s grip tightened. "I know. He hurt Judar." Aladdin nodded miserably. "What kind of person enjoys seeing others suffer?" Alibaba sighed, the sound heavy with resignation etched long ago. "Men who want to feel they hold life and death in their hands. Men who crave power… over everything." He squeezed Aladdin’s shoulder firmly. "Now come," he urged, pulling him gently upward. "You need to get up. I’ll help you with your tasks tonight. Just… stay close to me." He offered a small, strained smile.

A frantic clamor erupted near the cavern entrance – panicked shouts, the clatter of dropped buckets, the frantic patter of hooves and claws echoing down the corridor. Alibaba pushed Aladdin behind him instinctively, his eyes scanning the swirling steam for threats. A frantic attendant with sparrow wings slammed into a wall, dropping an armload of frost-lotus petals that hissed as they hit the warm tiles. "Out of the way!" Kougyoku snarled, shoving past Alibaba without a glance, her crimson robes streaming behind her like spilled blood. "We have high guests tonight!" she hissed over her shoulder, pure venom lacing her voice. "King Sinbad and his Generals!"

Alibaba froze, his jaw slackening. "Sinbad`s coming here?!" he gasped, his voice cracking with awe, the name escaping him like a prayer. "You didn't know?!" Kougyoku scoffed, barely glancing back as she gestured imperiously for servants to pick up the scattered petals. "Can`t anyone in this place communicate? No wonder nobody is prepared." Aladdin blinked, bewildered by Alibaba’s sudden intensity. "Sinbad?" Aladdin echoed cautiously. "Is he… powerful?" Alibaba turned to him, eyes wide, shining with fervent admiration. "He’s a legend!" Alibaba breathed, practically vibrating. "He sailed across the Sea of Storms! Fought the Leviathan of the Deep! He’s written volumes of his adventures!" He leaned in conspiratorially. "They're so cool!" Beside them, Morgiana – silently returning with steaming towels folded precisely in her arms – couldn't hold back a faint smile. The tiny curl of her lips spoke volumes. "He’s so in love with that guy," she murmured under her breath, her voice barely audible above the din.

Alibaba’s head snapped toward Morgiana, his cheeks flaming crimson instantly. "I-I’m not!" he stammered, his hands flailing slightly, a stark contrast to Morgiana’s impassive stance. "What’s wrong if I… think he’s cool?! Read his books?!" Aladdin tilted his head, blue braids shifting against his shoulders. A flicker of his usual curious spark returned. "So you only know of his adventures… through stories?" he asked thoughtfully. "Maybe he lied." Alibaba’s brows knitted into a fierce scowl. "He didn’t," he insisted firmly. "I’ve heard—"

"Aladdin!" Koubun Ka bellowed, his voice booming above the frenzied preparations like a gong—sudden, sharp, silencing nearby servants momentarily. The stout foreman pushed through a cluster of panicked frog-attendants scrambling with armfuls of shimmering bath salts. "Hakuei needs your assistance. Now!" Aladdin froze, fear flashing in his wide blue eyes—Fatima’s shadow looming large. Alibaba squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Go," he urged softly, nudging him forward. "Hakuei protects her own. It’ll be okay." Aladdin nodded shakily, darting through the chaotic sea of servants toward the serene depths of the Moonlit Lotus grove—a sanctuary Hakuei fiercely guarded.

Hakuei stood rigid at the grove’s mossy entrance, her long, dark-blue hair catching the pale luminescence filtering through the canopy overhead, framing a face etched with rare tension. Before her, a trembling frog-like attendant—skin slick with nervous sweat—delivered its report in frantic croaks: "H-he came unannounced! Covered head to toe in thick river mud and rotting swamp weeds—reeking of stagnant pond scum! He demands entry… immediately!" Hakuei’s knuckles whitened where she gripped her simple wooden hairpin. "That’s bad," she breathed, her voice tight with genuine alarm, a crack in her usual gentle composure. "We are dangerously short-staffed tonight because of Sinbad’s entourage… Send him away. Offer a rain-check voucher." The frog attendant flinched violently, shaking its bulbous head. "We can’t!" it croaked urgently. "It’s too late! He already slipped past the outer attendants… He’s heading toward Gyokuen-sama’s private orchids! If we deny him service… Gyokuen will be furious!" Hakuei pressed her lips into a thin line, shoulders slumping with weary defeat. "Fine," she sighed, her gaze snapping across the grove to where Aladdin stood nervously wringing his hands near a cluster of silver carp ponds. "He’ll do it." She pointed decisively at Aladdin. "Tell my mother about this filthy god… and let her know Aladdin cannot serve her tonight." Her voice softened slightly, yet carried iron certainty. "I need him here." The frog attendant bowed low, its wide eyes darting between Hakuei and Aladdin, before scrambling backward into the steam-swathed corridor. Hakuei watched it vanish, then exhaled slowly, her shoulders trembling faintly. "This is bad…" she murmured toward Aladdin, her eyes reflecting pools of troubled water starlight.

"I’ll do it," Aladdin declared firmly, stepping forward without hesitation, drawing himself up to his full height—chin lifted, his voice surprisingly steady despite the tremor in his hands. He met Hakuei’s worried gaze head-on. "I know what to do. Alibaba showed me how to handle… difficult customers." Fear still flickered beneath his bravado—memories of Fatima, Jamil’s sneers—but determination hardened like cooling magma in his chest. "And Alibaba can help me," he added, gesturing urgently toward the distant archway where Alibaba stood watching the chaos unfold.

Hakuei hesitated, her fingers twisting the wooden hairpin nervously. The stench of stagnant water already crept into the grove, thick and suffocating, mingling sickeningly with the delicate scent of lotus blossoms. Distant shouts echoed—the muddy god was approaching fast, leaving filthy tracks across the polished jade tiles, trailed by panicked attendants begging him to bathe first. "Fine," Hakuei breathed at last, releasing her grip on the pin as if surrendering a shield. "Go. But Aladdin—" Her eyes, wide pools of urgent darkness, locked onto his. "If one of the masters appear… you flee. Immediately. Promise me." Aladdin nodded sharply, already turning to sprint toward the source of the commotion, weaving through clusters of paralyzed servants, his heart hammering against his ribs like a frantic drumbeat. He found Alibaba near the corridor entrance, already rolling up his sleeves, his expression grimly resolute. "What’s the plan?" Alibaba asked lowly, eyes scanning the approaching mud-laden figure—a hulking silhouette whose every step squelched vilely. "Stall," Aladdin gasped, grabbing Alibaba's arm. "Get the dragonscale polish… and the hottest towels we have!"

The god loomed before them, towering and dripping thick, foul sludge that steamed slightly on the warm tiles. His form was indistinct beneath the caked filth—only narrowed, malevolent eyes glowed like swamp-gas flames beneath layers of muck. "Service!" he bellowed, voice grating like rocks tumbling in a silt-choked river. Alibaba lunged forward, bowing deeply, holding out a steaming gold basin brimming with shimmering dragonscale-infused water. " Honored guest!" Alibaba announced, his voice strained but clear. "Please accept this preliminary cleansing! It will prepare you for the unparalleled luxury of our baths!" The god snorted, globs of mud flying. "Luxury?" he mocked, stirring the water with a filthy claw. "Smells like cheap perfume!" As he snarled, Aladdin darted low behind him, thrusting a thick, near-scalding towel soaked in potent cleansing salts against the god’s mud-armored calf. A horrific hiss erupted—like wet meat hitting a griddle—as steam billowed and the stench of burned rot punched the air. The god roared, staggering backward, eyes blazing. Aladdin scrambled back, gagging, his hands blistering red. "It’s working!" Alibaba yelled desperately over the god’s enraged howls. "Keep scrubbing!" Aladdin nodded, lunging forward again with another steaming towel, bracing for the backlash—only to freeze mid-step as thick, tar-like shadows abruptly pooled at the furious god’s feet, twisting upward like poisonous vines.

----

Judar stepped into Gyokuen’s opulent dining hall, the scent of roasted phoenix quail and simmered starfruit thick in the air. Before him spanned a colossal obsidian table laden with impossible delicacies: steaming moon-rock soup in jade bowls, crystallized comet dust arranged like glittering shards, and spirit carp poached in liquid starlight. Gyokuen presided at the head, her serpentine smile sharp against the glow of floating lanterns. Hakuryuu sat rigidly at her right, draped in layers of night-blue silk embroidered with silver constellations. Silver ribbons wove through his dark hair, catching the light as he turned—just slightly—toward Judar’s arrival. His knuckles whitened where they gripped his knees beneath the tablecloth. Judar slid wordlessly into the seat beside him, his own black robes swallowing the ambient light. Beneath the table, his fingers brushed Hakuryuu’s palm, lingering for a heartbeat before squeezing once—brief, firm. "You look amazing," Judar breathed through unmoving lips, his voice a ghost against the clatter of porcelain. Hakuryuu’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, but the corner of his mouth lifted—a tremor of warmth unseen by anyone but Judar.

The doors swept open again. Sinbad entered, flanked by shadows given form: Masrur, towering and silent with Morgiana’s fierce eyes in an impassive face, and Jafar, lean as a dagger, his white hair stark against robes the color of dried blood. Sinbad’s own attire was blinding—layers of gold-threaded silk, a collar of molten opals, rings glinting on every finger. "My gratitude for the invitation, Lady Gyokuen," Sinbad declared, his voice smooth as poured honey. He gestured lazily to his companions. "My guard, Masrur, and advisor, Jafar." Both bowed, their movements precise, devoid of warmth. Beneath the table, Hakuryuu leaned infinitesimally closer to Judar.
"Self-crowned pirate king," he breathed, the words brushing Judar’s ear like smoke. "Obsessive." Judar snapped his black fan open, hiding the smirk twisting his lips. "Is that true or did your mother tell you that?" he murmured back. Hakuryuu’s reply was icily soft: "Watch his posture—pure theater."

Gyokuen’s grip tightened around her wine glass. "Stop whispering, boy," she hissed at Hakuryuu, her smile fixed on Sinbad. Behind her, a trembling attendant with rabbit-ears stammered, "H-Hakuei requires Aladdin urgently—a filthy river god demands service." Gyokuen waved a dismissive hand. "Fine. Welcome." Sinbad slid into the ornate chair opposite her, his gaze lingering on Hakuryuu’s tense shoulders. "Now," Gyokuen purred, pouring plum wine into Sinbad’s cup herself—a calculated intimacy. "You caused me a lot of trouble lately, interfering with my business. I think the reason why you're here after you´ve declined so many times before shows we have some things to discuss later...privately."

Sinbad leaned back, swirling the dark liquid. His smile sharpened as he caught Hakuryuu’s eye. "Oh? Trying to win my favor by seducing me?" He chuckled lowly—a velvet rasp over polished stone. "Don't think I’ll fall for that. I’m not here for trading." His gaze slid to Judar, appraising him like flawed merchandise. "Or chatting. But I must say, I’m quite disappointed." He took a deliberate sip. "I heard you interfered with the human world to access untapped power." A dismissive flick of his jeweled hand toward Judar. "But this one?" He smirked. "He doesn’t look special."

Judar slammed both palms onto the obsidian tabletop, rattling crystal bowls. "Fuck you," he snarled, rising halfway from his seat. "Do you want to fight me?! I’ll show you—" Hakuryuu gripped his wrist beneath the tablecloth—a silent command. Jamil stepped forward from the shadows near the door, nostrils flared as if smelling sewage. "Sinbad’s right. Look at him," Jamil sneered, gesturing at Judar’s lavish robes. "Ice magic? That’s all? Still just a street rat dressed in silk." His eyes flicked to Hakuryuu. "A whore who slept his way onto this table. Right, Hakuryuu?"

Judar wrenched free of Hakuryuu’s grip. He snatched a jade bowl filled with comet dust and hurled it straight at Jamil’s sneering face. The bowl shattered against Jamil’s forehead, spraying glittering powder like false starlight across his twisted features. "I’m no matter to discuss!" Judar roared, knocking over his chair as he stood. "My worth isn’t decided by assholes like you!" He whirled toward Sinbad—eyes burning red. "Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Silence crackled. Jafar rose abruptly, hand drifting toward the dagger at his hip. Sinbad raised a lazy finger. "Don’t," he murmured, voice dangerously soft. His gaze remained fixed on Judar. "Let him be upset. If there's nothing better Gyokuen shows me..." He shrugged elegantly. "...we’ll leave anyway."

"Bastard," Gyokuen growled. Her nails gouged deep furrows into the priceless ebony wood. Before she could speak, a thunderous CRACK ripped through the tension.

Kabun Ka stumbled through the splintered double doors, his frog-skin slick with panic-sweat. Your Highness!" he wheezed, pointing frantically back the way he came. "That god… the filthy one Alibaba served… H-He’s not… paying! He’s attacking! Demolished the Cedar Baths! We need—" His frantic report dissolved into guttural croaks as Sinbad leaned forward, his ever-present smile widening into something predatory. "I sense tension," he murmured, the low rumble echoing unnaturally loud in the sudden silence. He drummed his jeweled fingers on the tabletop. "Do you perhaps require… assistance?" Gyokuen’s eyes narrowed into vicious slits. "No," she hissed, the single word dripping venom. "Enjoy. Your. Meal." She shoved Kabun Ka aside with brutal force, sending him crashing into a steaming tureen of moon-rock soup. Her crimson robes billowed like a spread of bloody wings as she vanished down the corridor, a hurricane of contained fury radiating from her retreating form.

She stormed past petrified servants, the very air chilling around her. The stench of sulfur and burnt rot intensified near the Celestial Hot Springs, mingling with the sharp tang of shattered tile. Bursting through the arched entrance, Gyokuen froze. Before her sprawled the steaming devastation of their largest hot tub, a geothermal oasis now a battlefield. Fractured jade tiles littered the scorched ground, steam mingling with acrid smoke. Aladdin stood defiantly over Morgiana’s crumpled form – blood blooming crimson across her dull grey attendant robes – shielding her with his small body. Alibaba faced the monstrous entity they’d assumed was a god, wielding a broken broom-handle like a pathetic sword. The creature towered, shedding thick clots of mud and swamp weeds, its indistinct form now coalescing into jagged obsidian plates and grasping claws dripping corrosive slime. Its glowing swamp-gas eyes fixed hungrily on Morgiana, ignoring Alibaba’s desperate jabs.

"Incompetent fools!" Gyokuen shrieked, the sound echoing unnaturally within the cavernous chamber. Her fury wasn’t directed at the monster, but at Alibaba and Aladdin. "You dared engage a Mud Ghast without purification rites?!" Her hands flew up, fingers twisting like poisoned vines. Shadowy tendrils erupted from the steaming pools, lashing towards the creature—not to bind it, but to siphon its dark, sticky essence. The Ghast roared, recoiling as its corrupted energy flowed violently into Gyokuen, feeding her power. The stolen magic crackled visibly around her form, warping the steam into grotesque, writhing shapes. Yet, Aladdin saw the strain beneath her triumph – fine tremors ran through her arms, a flicker of desperate exertion in her eyes. She was pulling too much, too fast.

The Ghast, enraged by the theft, lunged. Its dripping claw swept past Gyokuen’s distracted form, aiming directly for Alibaba’s throat. A choked cry tore from Aladdin’s lips as Alibaba threw himself sideways. The claw missed flesh but tore through Alibaba’s sleeve, splattering corrosive muck that hissed and smoked on his skin. Simultaneously, Morgiana stirred weakly, her hand brushing Aladdin’s ankle. A flicker of desperate strength surged through her trembling fingers – she shoved Aladdin forward with surprising force just as the Ghast took another earth-shaking step towards Alibaba. Aladdin stumbled, landing hard on his hands and knees amidst hot, muddy debris, directly in the creature’s path. Its swamp-gas eyes locked onto him, its dripping jaws widening impossibly wide. He fumbled frantically for Ugo’s flute, its comforting pulse drowned by terror.

Sinbad’s languid chuckle echoed from the shadowed archway behind Gyokuen. He leaned casually against the fractured jamb, arms crossed. "Told you she bites off more than she can chew," he murmured to Masrur, who nodded silently, eyes fixed on the chaos.

"It’s their own fault," Gyokuen hissed, dusting obsidian shards from her robes as the dissipating Ghast’s essence vanished. Her gaze swept dismissively over Aladdin scrambling to his feet, Alibaba clutching his burned arm, Morgiana gasping weakly. "They’re not worth the effort." She gestured sharply toward Morgiana. "Perhaps if those three were gone, I could finally concentrate on harvesting true power." Jamil sneered beside her, stepping over a chunk of shattered tile. "That’s right," he smirked, nudging Morgiana’s limp leg with his boot. "But who’s gonna replace my slave? She’s been loyal—cleaning toilets, hauling slop. Finding another beast of burden? That’s gonna cost you." Gyokuen’s smile was cold silver. "I’ll repay you," she promised. Aladdin trembled, fists clenched tight enough to draw blood from his palms. " She’s not a slave!" he screamed up at Jamil, voice cracking with raw fury. Countless wide-eyed servants and wary spirits peered from behind scorched pillars, frozen spectators. Alibaba staggered upright, breath ragged. "You can’t decide who lives or dies!"

"Fine then," Gyokuen smiled, a predator’s grin stretching wide. "Save her if you can." Sinbad chuckled lowly from the shadows, his molten opal collar catching the steam-light. "He will," Sinbad murmured, a knowing glint in his eyes. And as the Ghast’s lingering shadow-form coalesced for one final lunge toward Morgiana, Aladdin roared. Not with fear, but with blinding, righteous fury. He slammed Ugo’s flute onto the steaming tile. Sudden, harsh crimson flames exploded outward—not fire, but liquid conviction—consuming the Ghast like lava engulfing rot. The creature shrieked, its muddy form burning away into curling ash and acrid smoke. Silence fell, thick and stunned. Sinbad stepped forward slowly. " That’s it," he whispered, staring at the fading embers reflected in Aladdin’s wide, terrified eyes. "The power I was looking for."

Gyokuen’s calculated calm shattered. "What?!" she shrieked, recoiling as if physically burned. Her gaze shot from Sinbad’s triumphant smirk to Aladdin’s trembling hands clutching the now-glowing flute. Recognition, sharp and furious, dawned in her serpentine eyes. "Him?!" Her outstretched fingers twitched—not with command, but with covetous hunger. "That boy can wield such magic?!" Ignoring Jamil’s bewildered glance, she lunged, silk robes rippling like spilled ink. But Sinbad was faster. He moved with liquid grace, placing himself squarely between Aladdin and Gyokuen’s grasping claws. "Ah-ah," he tutted, catching Gyokuen’s wrist in a deceptively gentle grip. His rings glinted coldly. "The boy and his trinket are under my protection now. And you," Sinbad leaned closer, his voice dropping to a velvet-edged threat, "owe me answers."

Panic flared behind Gyokuen’s fury. Sinbad’s grip tightened, pulling her back from Aladdin. Her eyes darted toward the shadowed archway where Hakuryuu’s black-clad figure stood rigid, lips curled in dangerous anticipation. Hakuryuu met his mother’s gaze—no obedience, only icy appraisal. Gyokuen’s composure fractured further. She knew Sinbad could expose her lies, shatter her fragile dominion built on stolen power and petrified souls. This wasn't just about a defiant child; it was the unraveling of her entire web. Her lips parted not for a command, but for a desperate counter-offer.

Sinbad released her wrist abruptly, turning his full attention to Aladdin. Smoke still curled from Morgiana’s burns, mingling with the acrid scent of burnt Ghast. Alibaba knelt beside her, pressing a ripped cloth to her bleeding arm. Sinbad crouched before Aladdin, his imposing presence momentarily softening. "Aladdin," he whispered, his voice cutting through the wreckage-laden silence. He gently grasped the boy’s shoulders, grounding him. "Come with me. Now." His eyes held Aladdin’s terrified gaze. "Gyokuen isn’t powerful—she’s a parasite. She built this bathhouse to lure spirits in, siphon their energy. Your brother Judar is in danger—so are you." He tapped the pulsing flute. "She couldn’t sense this power inside you. But I can. You’re strong, Aladdin. Stronger than she knows."

Aladdin trembled, clutching the flute tighter. He looked frantically behind Sinbad—at Alibaba shielding Morgiana’s slumped form, his own arm bleeding freely. Alibaba met his gaze, shaking his head with fierce determination. "Go," he rasped, a grim smile touching his lips despite the pain. "We’ll be fine. I promise. I won’t hide behind false smiles anymore—I’ll fight." His grip tightened protectively on Morgiana’s limp shoulder. "Like you taught me. But if you stay..." He locked eyes with Aladdin, pleading. "...you`ll end up like me. I gave up on trying to get home, but you shouldn`t."

Aladdin nodded decisively, pushing aside the sickening taste of Ghast-smoke clinging to his tongue. He followed Sinbad’s silhouette towards the ruined archway. Masrur flanked them silently, his stone-like presence imposing, while Jafar drifted behind like lethal smoke. Sharp metallic hisses split the air—Jafar’s daggers snapping forward like viper-strikes as Gyokuen lunged towards Aladdin. They deflected a thick tendril of shadow-curse aimed at his spine. Silence descended abruptly, heavy and oppressive, punctuated only by Gyokuen’s sharp intake of breath—a sound like rending silk. Her fury radiated outward, chilling the steam curling above the shattered tiles.

---

Hakuryuu’s pulse hammered against his ribs as he slipped away from the ruined baths. He knew this silence—this unnatural stillness—wasn’t peace. It was the coiled stillness before Gyokuen’s wrath erupted. He sprinted down labyrinthine corridors, ignoring the echoes of Sinbad’s words about parasites and vanishing worlds. He burst into Judar’s darkened suite, a stifling scent of stale incense and damp stone hitting him instantly. "Sinbad took Aladdin!" Hakuryuu gasped, skidding to a halt near the bed. His eyes adjusted to the gloom as Gyokuen’s enraged roar finally shattered the silence far behind him. "Gyokuen hadn’t noticed your brother was strong—she’s furious now!" He reached for Judar’s shoulder beneath the heavy silk blanket.

Judar didn’t even flinch. He lay curled into himself like a wounded beast, buried in shadow. A choked sob tore from him as Hakuryuu’s fingers brushed fabric. "I knew it," Judar whispered, the words muffled and thick. His pale fingers tightened around the blanket’s edge, knuckles straining white. Dark, shimmering vapor seeped from beneath the folds—a miasma of despair bleeding into the air. "I fucking knew Aladdin was better than me!" He laughed, a bitter, jagged sound scraping against the silence. Tears traced paths through grime on his cheeks. "That stupid kid defeats me without even trying. I thought Alma Torran would make me special! But no—it’s him. Always him." He slammed a fist against the mattress. "I’m nothing, Hakuryuu! Nobody wants me if they can have him!"

Hakuryuu didn’t hesitate. He gripped Judar’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet—Judar’s crimson, dilated with panic and self-loathing, locked onto Hakuryuu’s glacial blue. Tears pooled, dripped, evaporated into that toxic haze clinging to Judar’s skin. "Listen," Hakuryuu commanded, his voice sharp as obsidian. "You said it yourself: you’re not your power. Your worth can´t be measured." His thumb brushed away a tear, smearing grit and shadow. "You are not anyone’s property. Not hers. Not Sinbad’s." He leaned closer, breath ghosting Judar’s damp cheek. "And you`re not my whore, like Jamil said. You don`t belong to me. I’m just devoted to you, Judar. Only you." Hakuryuu’s grip tightened. "Now come. We run—together."

"Find Aladdin?" Judar rasped, his voice raw. He wiped his face with the back of his trembling hand, smearing streaks of shadow and tears across his cheekbone. The corrosive despair clinging to him seemed to recede slightly under Hakuryuu’s unwavering gaze. Judar nodded once, sharp and decisive. "Okay."

"Not yet," Hakuryuu countered, already moving toward the moon-drenched glass balcony doors. His fingers worked the intricate knots of his dark silk robe with swift precision. Moonlight spilled into the shadowed suite as he shrugged the garment off, the pale illumination painting stark lines across the map of old scars that marred his back and ribs. For a heartbeat, he stood perfectly still—a study in lean muscle and deliberate calm. Then, the air shimmered violently around him. Scales erupted across his skin, blindingly white and iridescent, as his form stretched and twisted. Bones realigned with soft, grinding pops. Judar watched, breath caught in his throat, as Hakuryuu completed his transformation into the magnificent white dragon, wings like folded starlight unfurling silently.

Hakuryuu lowered his massive, serpentine head, luminous blue eyes fixed on Judar. He gestured pointedly with his snout toward the space between his powerful shoulder blades. Judar scrambled forward, the lingering traces of dark vapor evaporating entirely as his hands brushed the cool, pearlescent scales. Hakuryuu`s cat leaped silently onto Judar’s shoulder, depositing the mouse into Judar’s outstretched palm. Judar smiled faintly at the pair nestled against him before closing his eyes and pressing his face against the dragon’s neck. Hakuryuu surged forward silently. They plunged through the glass balcony door like a phantom through mist—no shatter, only a ripple across the surface—and soared into Alma Torran’s violet, starlit sky.

Wind whipped Judar’s black hair into wild tangles as they ascended. Below, the bathhouse shrank into a cluster of glowing paper lanterns nestled against the dark riverbank, its twisted chimneys spewing spirals of magic-infused steam that shimmered like scattered jewels. Judar leaned closer to Hakuryuu’s scaled neck, the cool, pearlescent surface smooth beneath his palms. The tiny mouse nestled in his hand squeaked softly, its whiskers brushing against his thumb. The black cat dug its claws firmly into Judar’s shoulder, ears flattened against the rushing air. Judar inhaled sharply—cold night wind laced with the scent of ozone, damp earth from distant marshes, and the faint, lingering sweetness of spirit orchids blooming unseen below. He gazed down, mesmerized. Alma Torran unfolded beneath them: streets pulsed with ethereal light trails left by cat-like water sprites darting between moss-covered buildings. Shadowy figures cloaked in starlight drifted like half-formed dreams through marketplaces constructed of living coral and polished obsidian. Magic wasn't just felt; it was seen—a tangible haze of shifting auroras clinging to crooked rooftops and winding alleys, thicker than fog.

The white dragon descended silently through the canopy, landing with a soft crunch of rotting leaves in an abandoned forest clearing. Moonlight filtered weakly through tangled branches, illuminating skeletal trees and a crumbling wooden shed choked by thorny vines. Judar slid from Hakuryuu’s scaled back, his bare feet sinking into damp moss. He frowned, scanning the oppressive darkness. "Why are we here?" he demanded, gesturing sharply at the derelict structure. The tiny mouse burrowed deeper into his palm, its whiskers trembling against his skin. Hakuryuu’s form shimmered, scales folding seamlessly back into pale skin, leaving him naked save for the shadows clinging to his scars. Judar’s lips twisted into a teasing smirk as he draped his own robe over Hakuryuu’s shoulders. "Oh? You wanna be all romantic and live here? Cuddle next to this charming fireplace?" He kicked a rotten timber near the shed, sending beetles skittering into the gloom.

"No," Hakuryuu replied calmly, fastening the robe. His breath misted in the chill air. "Following Sinbad’s path is too dangerous for us now." He glanced toward the distant, unseen ocean. "But I don’t believe he’ll harm your brother. His hatred for Gyokuen burns as deep as hers for him. Taking Aladdin… it was either protection or strategy." Hakuryuu met Judar’s puzzled gaze, his blue eyes stark in the dimness. "We have to fight her first."

Judar blinked, his teasing faltering. The black cat leaped from his shoulder, sniffing warily at the shed’s decaying doorframe. "Really?" He stared at the mouse still nestled in his hand. "Thought you told me to shut up about rebellions and ‘burn it down’ fantasies." A bitter edge crept into his voice. "Hypocrite."

"I was wrong," Hakuryuu stated simply. A ghost of a smile touched his scarred lips. "We have no choice now." He stepped closer, the scent of ozone and cold earth clinging to him. "If Sinbad spoke truth—if her power is only theft, hollow mimicry—then the man who lives here," he nodded toward the shed, "can teach you how to fight her."

"Me?" Judar folded his arms defensively, disbelief warring with a flicker of fragile hope. He scoffed, gesturing vaguely toward the sky Sinbad had vanished into. "Why not my precious, powerful brother? Guess for Aladdin, this is child’s play. Sinbad didn’t even acknowledge my potential." His voice cracked on the last word.

Hakuryuu closed the distance between them, his calloused hand gripping Judar’s chin firmly. "I do." The words were a low rumble, unwavering. "No one else sees it. No one else can defeat her." His thumb brushed Judar’s jawline, grounding him. "Even if the whole realm stands against you, I stand beside you." Hakuryuu’s gaze held fierce conviction. "Free the bathhouse from her grip, and everyone trapped within—including your brother, Alibaba’s, Morgiana…my siblings" His voice dropped to a whisper against Judar’s ear, warm breath contrasting the forest chill. "...including you and me. Forever." The silent promise hung heavier than the fog.

Judar stared at him, the arrogance bleeding into stunned silence. Slowly, a sharp grin sliced across his face—wild, reckless, utterly devoid of doubt. "Told you from the beginning," he breathed, tangling his fingers in Hakuryuu's robe. He kissed him sharply, bitingly, tasting desperation and iron resolve. "Sometimes the most simple solutions are the best." He pulled back, eyes blazing crimson.

The shed door creaked inward, smooth with disuse. A young-faced man leaned against the frame, impossibly ancient eyes peering from beneath the brim of a large, ludicrously green hat. "Hakuryuu," he greeted, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I've heard whispers carried on the wind about you—but we haven't locked eyes across realms before now." He gestured vaguely towards distorted shadows twisting beyond distant mountains. "I recall... you snatched a particular artifact belonging to a star-forger on your mother's orders, what... twenty summers past?" He stepped aside, steam curling from a copper kettle nestled amidst shelves crammed with yarn balls and knitted scarves. "Tea’s nearly steeped. Come."

Chapter 4 Chapter Text

Judar pushed past Hakuryuu, his sharp intake of breath filling the cramped space saturated with the scent of dust, dried lavender, and something metallic, like old blood. He scanned the cluttered interior—patchwork quilts draped over worn armchairs, porcelain cat figurines lining a cluttered mantelpiece—and sneered. "You look like a dandelion puff about to blow away," he declared, kicking aside a half-finished sock. "Not what I pictured for Hakuryuu's mysterious mentor. This reeks of a doddering grandfather’s hideout." A low growl rumbled from Hakuryuu’s throat, warning clear.

Yunan chuckled, a sound like dry leaves rustling. He bent, scooping Hakuryuu’s cat into his arms as it wound around his ankles. "Appearances lie deeper than most suspect," he murmured, stroking the sleek fur. His gaze shifted to Hakuryuu, then to the tiny mouse perched on Judar’s shoulder. The mouse trembled, whiskers twitching wildly. "These companions… yours, Hakuryuu? They possess echoes far louder than their forms suggest. Strange echoes indeed." He straightened, focusing intently on Judar. "And you must be the storm-caller. Yunan is my name." His ancient eyes narrowed slightly. "The shed reflects the occupant’s state. Mine prefers…comfort."

Hakuryuu stepped forward, withdrawing a small velvet pouch from within his robe. He poured its contents onto Yunan’s weathered palm: a shard of obsidian, etched with constellations now dimmed to mere scratches. "I stole this," Hakuryuu stated flatly, the words scraping raw. "For her. To prove my worth." He refused to meet Yunan’s gaze fixed on the artifact. "I…" He faltered, the admission heavy.

"I know," Yunan interrupted gently, closing his fingers over the shard. He dropped it unceremoniously into a teapot crafted from shimmering beetle-carapace. Steam hissed angrily. "I don't mind its absence now." His gaze softened, holding Hakuryuu’s. "You acted from terror, Hakuryuu. A cornered beast will bite the hand offering rescue." Yunan poured steaming amber liquid into mismatched cups. "Deep down, haven’t you felt it? That hollow echo beneath her fury?" He gestured toward Hakuryuu’s scarred ribs. "True power doesn’t need stolen trinkets—or corpses posing as statues. Gyokuen feeds on doubt. Turning spirits to stone? She lacks strength for it." He offered a cup to Judar. "She tricked you into believing the lie. But illusions shatter."

"I’ve seen it!" Hakuryuu snapped, fists clenching. His knuckles pressed white against Yunan’s teacup. "With my own eyes, Hakuryuu hissed, what she did. My family..." His breath hitched. "They're gone. Petrified. Dust." His eyes locked onto the crackling fire where Hakuryuu’s cat stretched, purring softly, a low rumble vibrating the humid air. "I only have...my sister left..." His voice cracked. He flicked his eyes toward the mouse trembling on Judar's shoulder. "...and Judar." Yunan settled onto a threadbare rug near the hearth, watching the cat bathe its paw languidly. "You can’t fight someone you still fear," Yunan murmured, tracing the steam rising from his cup. "Your terror feeds her. Like Judar..." He nodded toward the simmering glare beside Hakuryuu. "...cannot access his true power as long as he doubts himself either."

"I don’t fucking doubt myself!" Judar snarled, slamming his untouched cup onto a wildly knitted coaster. Tea sloshed, staining the vibrant wool dark crimson. He shoved past Hakuryuu toward the shed door. "Gyokuen bleeds like anyone else! I’ll carve that truth into her goddamn face!" Yunan sighed, the sound blending with the cat’s purr. "Loud denial is its own kind of confession, storm-caller." His ancient eyes pinned Judar where he stood. "You’re afraid others will abandon you," Yunan stated softly. "Afraid Aladdin will finally see how hollow your arrogance really is—see how lonely you are without him—and abandon you forever. That’s why you push him away." Judar froze, spine rigid. "Isn’t that so?"

"Shut up!" Judar whirled, eyes blazing like trapped embers. "Don’t tell me what I think and feel!" He jabbed a trembling finger toward the distant bathhouse lights twinkling beyond the trees. "Right now we don’t have time for your knitted fucking philosophy!" Spittle flew. "I need to defeat Gyokuen! Find Aladdin! And—" His voice caught, choked. "And then...?" Yunan prompted gently, swirling his tea. Unnerving calm radiated from him. "Are you going to send him back? If you could... would you?" He tilted his head. "Or... would you go with him? Leave Hakuryuu?" Silence descended, thick as the ashes stirring in the hearth—Judar’s ragged breaths the only sound. The tiny mouse pressed itself flat against Judar’s collarbone, utterly still.

Hakuryuu stepped forward, a silent shield between Judar and Yunan’s probing gaze. His hand rested on Judar’s trembling shoulder, a grounding presence radiating cool resolve. "Don’t," Hakuryuu murmured, his blue eyes fixing on Yunan. "He’s right. We need practical solutions, not… psychoanalysis." The unspoken plea hung between them: Protect him. From her. Even from himself. Yunan studied Hakuryuu’s scarred face, the fierce protectiveness beneath the stoic mask. He sighed, setting his cup down with a soft clink. Before Hakuryuu could speak further, Judar blurted it out, the words raw and desperate, tearing through the suffocating tension: "...Can’t Hakuryuu... come with me?" His crimson eyes flickered from Hakuryuu’s stoic profile back to Yunan, pleading. "If I do win? If I find Aladdin and… when we go home? Can’t he?" His voice cracked on the hopeful suggestion.

Yunan shook his head slowly, ancient sorrow etching deeper lines around his eyes. "He is a Dragon, Judar," he said softly, the words settling like cold iron in the room. "Pure Alma Torran essence. He cannot exist in your human world—not permanently. Not without unraveling." He gestured toward Hakuryuu, who kept his face resolutely turned away, jaw clenched tight enough to fracture bone. "He has been following you, Judar. Shadowing your footsteps through your mundane world, unseen— for years. Not under Gyokuen’s orders," Yunan emphasized, locking eyes with Judar, "but to protect you. From spirits that leaked through, drawn to the flicker of your nascent magic. You had no inkling of that reality…" His gaze shifted pointedly to Hakuryuu’s rigid shoulders. "...did you?"

Hakuryuu remained utterly still, a statue sculpted from shame. He didn’t speak, didn’t confirm. He simply stared fixedly at the decaying wood grain of the shed wall. Yunan pressed on, relentless. "Much like Hakuryuu didn’t know his siblings weren't truly lost," his voice a low hum resonating with sorrow. He nodded towards Hakuryuu’s cat curled silently near the hearth and the trembling mouse perched on Judar. "He abandoned his sacred duty—the vigilance of a guardian dragon—simply to watch over you." The accusation wasn't angry; it was heartbreakingly factual. "Before his mother sensed his distraction... and saw an opportunity." Hakuryuu flinched as if physically struck. "Him crossing realms to shadow you," Yunan concluded, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper, "is the very reason you are trapped here now, Judar." He leaned forward intently. "He cannot abandon Alma Torran again. His duty binds him here. And when Gyokuen falls, her legacy—the bathhouse, its power, her dominion— must have its rightful heir." He gestured decisively toward Hakuryuu’s bowed head. "Him."

Without a word, Judar slammed his untouched teacup onto the rug. The fragile porcelain shattered instantly, spraying dark liquid onto the worn wool like spilled blood. Tea-soaked yarn balls rolled grotesquely. Judar spun on his heel, shoving past Hakuryuu’s silent form so violently he stumbled. He stormed out into the oppressive forest gloom, letting the rickety shed door slam behind him with a deafening crack. Yunan merely sighed, a dry rattling sound lost amidst the crackling fire. He picked up his own cup, seemingly oblivious to the destruction Judar had left behind, and took a slow, deliberate sip, steam momentarily obscuring his ancient eyes—a picture of infuriating, unnatural calm.

Hakuryuu found Judar moments later, standing rigid beside a towering corpsewood tree. One pale fist pressed hard against the bark, knuckles bleeding freely as he fought to catch his ragged breath. The scent of pinewood clung thickly to the humid air. "He's..." Judar choked out, staring unseeing into the forest gloom. "...right. All those times I spat at Aladdin... whispered I hated him..." A tremor ran through him. "He's just a dumb kid. He’ll miss me. Scream for me. And I..." His voice fractured completely. Hakuryuu’s approach was silent, ghostlike in the twilight.

"You can go back," Hakuryuu murmured, barely audible over the distant chime of bathhouse bells carried on the wind. He halted directly behind Judar, a step away. "Both of you. Sinbad's gift... it can take you all home." He didn’t touch him. "Yunan has the knowledge."

Judar whipped around, crimson eyes blazing wet and furious inches from Hakuryuu’s scarred face. "What about you?!" he snarled, the raw agony in his voice sharper than claws. "Why?! Why didn't you show yourself?! Back then? In my world?" His voice cracked, desperate. "I would have known! Known somebody fucking cared!" His fist slammed into the corpsewood bark again, splinters embedding in bleeding knuckles. "I felt like I was drowning every damn day! Alone!"

Hakuryuu flinched, the ghost of decades flickering in his blue eyes. "I am... only spirit there," he whispered, barely audible. The scent of pine sap mixed sharply with the metallic tang of Judar’s blood. "A wisp. A shadow." He raised a trembling hand, hovering near Judar’s cheek, afraid to touch. "But I saw you... You knelt beside Aladdin’s bed that bitter winter night, sponge-cooling his brow when the furnace failed... The room so dark... only the moonlight on your tears." Hakuryuu’s voice thickened. "I saw you... tiny hands clutching your mother’s broken form in that wreckage... her fading breath... your screams... dissolving into silence." His own tears formed, sliding thickly down his scarred cheekbone. "I couldn’t... reach you. Couldn’t shield you."

"You’re precious," Hakuryuu breathed, closing the distance at last, his arms encircling Judar’s shaking frame—steady, solid, real. "To me." His tears fell freely now, crystallizing instantly into tiny, perfect silver jewels at their feet, glowing faintly with the same sheen as his dragon scales. "Precious." The raw, unshielded love in that single word vibrated against Judar’s skin, a tangible force folding over him like wings. Judar froze, breath hitching. Slowly, he lifted a trembling hand, brushing Hakuryuu’s scarred cheekbone where tears still pooled. Then he nodded, fiercely, silently—an anchor dropping deep.

"I could never leave you," Judar’s ragged whisper scorched the cool forest air. He leaned his forehead against Hakuryuu’s, crushing them together—bone pressing bone—a grounding pressure against the terror swirling inside them both. Their breaths mingled, harsh and wet. Hakuryuu’s hands tightened possessively on Judar’s waist, pulling him flush. "You don’t have to," Hakuryuu murmured back, lips brushing Judar’s temple. "No matter if you cross realms. I will find you. Every starfall. Every dawn." His voice rasped with dragon-deep certainty. "I will always be at your side."

Then Hakuryuu kissed him. Not the desperate clash of before, but a careful reverence: lips soft, lingering, tracing the curve of Judar’s mouth as if memorizing sacred scripture. The gentleness shattered Judar’s fragile control. He groaned against Hakuryuu’s lips—a raw, hungry sound torn from his throat—and dragged him impossibly closer, fists knotting in the worn fabric of Hakuryuu’s hakama. Fingers scrabbled blindly—hooks pulled loose, brocade tearing under frantic pressure. Cool night air whispered across Judar’s exposed skin, contrasting sharply with the furnace heat radiating from Hakuryuu’s bare chest pressing against his own. Hakuryuu’s hands slid beneath Judar’s thighs, lifting him effortlessly against the corpsewood’s rough bark—the scent of pine resin sharpening as dragon-strength anchored him firmly against the tree’s unyielding embrace. Judar wrapped his legs tightly around Hakuryuu’s waist, pulling him deeper into the kiss, the world shrinking to breathlessness and the desperate friction of bodies meeting anew.

Above them, Alma Torran’s twin moons spilled fractured light through the dense canopy—a cascade of silver fractals striping Hakuryuu’s burn-scarred back where Judar’s fingers traced trembling paths. He tasted salt on Hakuryuu’s skin—tears and sweat blended—as his mouth drifted downward, teeth scraping the pulse hammering beneath Hakuryuu’s jawline. A low rumble vibrated against Judar’s lips: Hakuryuu’s dragon-resonance surfacing, primal and possessive. Judar answered with a breathless bite against Hakuryuu’s collarbone, drawing blood drawn like ink beneath moonlight, savoring the metallic tang sharpening the damp forest air. Hakuryuu’s answering gasp transformed mid-breath into a ragged snarl—half agony, half surrender—as his fingers dug into Judar’s hips with bruising intensity.

Leaves rustled abruptly nearby—too deliberate for wind. Hakuryuu froze instantly, pressing Judar flush against the trunk, shielding him entirely with his own body. One clawed hand snapped Judar’s robes shut over exposed skin. Through the gloom, Hakuryuu’s eyes glinted predator-bright: pupils thin slits reflecting twin moons. A choked gasp echoed from the undergrowth—distinctly human. Alibaba stumbled backward into view, clutching Morgiana’s wrist, her fluted lantern casting frantic shadows across their shocked faces. Morgiana’s obsidian eyes widened, her free hand darting instinctively to the dagger strapped to her thigh.

Hakuryuu snarled—a sound like rending metal—and pushed Judar firmly behind him. Silver scales rippled across his exposed forearms, claws elongating as he stepped fully between Judar and the intruders. "Why are you here?" Hakuryuu demanded, his voice layered with the dragon’s thunderous depth.

"We’re looking for Aladdin!" Morgiana snapped back, her lantern swinging wildly as she stepped protectively in front of Alibaba, whose knuckles were raw and bloodied. "There’s chaos everywhere—spirits rioting! I found Alibaba fighting Jamil near the boiler rooms," she added, breathless. "He freed me when my chains snapped." Alibaba nodded grimly, rubbing his bruised jaw. "Jamil’s guarding Gyokuen’s inner sanctum. He said... he said Aladdin might be there."

Judar shoved past Hakuryuu’s protective arm, his crimson eyes narrowed to furious slits. "Congratulations," he hissed sarcastically, flecks of Hakuryuu’s blood still smeared across his cheekbone. "My brother isn’t in this forest. Why`d you think following us here would help you?." He jabbed a finger toward the shadowed path leading deeper into the woods. "Hakuryuu brought me here so I could tear Gyokuen’s throat out myself! Not watch you two stumble around like lost kittens!" His voice cracked—raw with unspoken terror for Aladdin.

"What you were doing," Alibaba retorted hotly, gesturing at Judar’s torn robes and Hakuryuu’s bruised lips, "didn’t exactly look like it’d help find him or fight her!" Hakuryuu sighed—a weary exhalation that softened the dragon-scales receding from his skin. "I... was saying my goodbye," he murmured, his hand brushing Judar’s wrist gently before turning fully to face Alibaba and Morgiana. "But since you’re already here..." He gestured toward the faint glow of Yunan’s hut visible through the trees. "...let me introduce you to the Sorcerer, too. He might know where Aladdin is—or how to survive what comes next."

----

Sinbad leaned against the ship's polished railing, its salt-scarred wood groaning under his weight. Aladdin dangled beside him, skinny legs kicking rhythmically over the churning indigo waves far below, sucking on a crystallized honey drop Jafar had pressed into his palm. "Don't spoil him rotten, Jafar," Sinbad warned, watching Aladdin's cheeks bulge. "He'll swell up like a river spirit after festival season." Jafar, balancing a lacquered tray laden with marzipan dragons and candied lotus roots, shot Sinbad a withering look. "Let the child savor sweetness," he chided, adjusting his spectacles. "Can't you smell the fear clinging to him? It's sharper than brine." Sinbad raised his hands in mock surrender, sapphire rings flashing. "Fine, fine! I know your soft heart bleeds for every stray kitten and lost boy." He sighed dramatically. "But Jafar, please, no more adopting strays mid-crisis. My nerves—and treasury—can't handle another Kou empire incident." Aladdin tugged Sinbad's embroidered sleeve, sticky fingers leaving translucent smudges. "Uncle Sinbad?" he piped up, interrupting their banter. "What do we do now about Gyokuen?" Sinbad's theatrics evaporated instantly. He slumped, the playful gleam in his violet eyes dimming. "...Honestly?" he murmured, gaze fixed on the distant, shimmering outline of the bathhouse looming over the horizon like a predator. "I can't storm her fortress. Not openly. The politics... the sheer magical backlash..." He ran a hand through his windswept hair. "It'd ignite a war across three realms."

Jafar slammed the candy tray onto a nearby barrel, sending sugared violets skittering. "So," he hissed, voice dangerously low, "you drag this child through star-oceans and ghost-tides just to tell him you're sending him back to her jaws?!" Sinbad whirled, genuine frustration cracking his polished facade. "I needed him safe first, Jafar!" he snapped, gesturing sharply at Aladdin. "Gyokuen's spies crawl through every spirit-port! This ship is shielded! It was the only place she couldn't snatch him from!"

Aladdin tugged Sinbad's sleeve again, harder. "Can I stay with you then?" The unexpected plea hung heavy in the salt-tinged air. Sinbad blinked, genuinely startled. "I mean," Aladdin rushed on, eyes wide and earnest, "we'd have to get my brother first. His name is Judar. He's—"

"I know who your brother is," Sinbad sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. The weariness etched into his features was suddenly stark under the ship's phosphorescent lanterns. "But honestly, Aladdin... I don't think he wants to get away from where he is now." Aladdin flinched as if struck. His gaze dropped to the swirling, bioluminescent waves below – a magical ocean formed overnight from enchanted rain, churning with trapped souls like drowned fireflies. "I can't live without him," he whispered, the tremor in his voice betraying a lifetime of shared shadowed rooms and whispered secrets. "I'm afraid."

"You don't need to be," Jafar interjected softly, kneeling beside Aladdin. He placed a cool hand on the boy's shoulder, grounding him. "Look at what you've done. You protected Ugo. Fought alongside Alibaba and Morgiana. Dared Gyokuen's den." A faint, proud smile touched Jafar's thin lips. "And word travels fast on spirit-winds. After you boarded Sinbad's ship? Alibaba rallied the boiler-room workers. They overturned Jamil's guards. Freed every bonded spirit." Aladdin's eyes widened. A tentative spark flickered through the fear. "Alibaba," he breathed, almost smiling. "He always had the strength." He swallowed hard, looking back at Sinbad. "Is there... is there a way for me to go home? Just... me?" The unspoken grief thickened his words. " If Judar really... stays here... I can't..." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought, fingers twisting in the fabric of his borrowed tunic. Below, the ocean seemed to pulse, reflecting the fractured hope in his blue eyes.

"There is a way," Sinbad affirmed, his voice regaining its firm resonance. He leaned against the railing beside Aladdin, gazing not at the sea, but directly at the shimmering spectral outline of the bathhouse looming in the twilight distance. "But you must rest first. You're trembling on your feet." He gestured sharply towards Jafar. "I`ll have my generals scour every archive, every whisper-sphere. They’ll find every loophole, every forgotten clause." His gaze returned to Aladdin, piercingly intent. "Since Gyokuen opened the portal binding you here... she is the key to sending you back, too. You signed her contract?" Aladdin nodded silently, dread coiling cold in his stomach. Sinbad sighed. "That’s bad. Very bad. Spirit-contracts are chains forged of will and ink."

Sinbad rubbed his temples, the sapphire rings catching the lantern light like worried stars. "We need to convince her to undo it." He paused, letting the daunting reality settle. "With force?” Jafar hissed, stepping forward, his shadow elongating menacingly on the deck. How? You just said—!" Sinbad raised his hand sharply, silencing him. "No, Jafar. At least, we cannot interfere directly," Sinbad clarified, his voice low and grim. "The treaties binding the realms... my own political obligations... they forbid it." His golden eyes locked onto Aladdin’s terrified face with heartbreaking honesty. “And Aladdin cannot undo her magic alone."

Jafar’s shoulders slumped in furious defeat, but his mind raced behind his spectacles. A sharp puff of steam escaped the ship’s boiler far below, echoing the simmering frustration on deck. Sinbad straightened, a flicker of defiance sparking in his weary eyes. "But," he declared, "convincing doesn’t always mean asking." He nodded towards the distant bathhouse, now glowing like a diseased jewel in the encroaching dusk. "That place thrives on greed and loopholes. Remember the boiler-workers Alibaba rallied? The spirits they freed?" Sinbad’s smile was thin, dangerous. "Gyokuen’s empire has fractures, Aladdin. Deep, angry ones you helped expose." He gestured sharply at Jafar. "Distraction. We create chaos she cannot ignore. While she’s focused on drowning rebellion... we slip you back to Judar."

Aladdin clutched Ugo’s flute tightly against his chest, its faint pulse syncing with his frantic heartbeat. "Judar," he breathed, picturing his brother’s scowling face.

----

Morgiana hunched near the crackling fireplace, thick wool tangled awkwardly around her trembling fingers as Yunan patiently guided them with his own weathered hands. "I can't do that," Morgiana whispered, frustration thickening her voice as another stitch unraveled. "Less pressure, child," Yunan murmured, adjusting her grip, the needles clicking softly like distant insects. "Feel the yarn yield; don't force it." Alibaba watched them over steaming mint tea, a rare flicker of peace softening his tense posture. Across the spacious, pine-scented room laden with dried herbs and dusty scrolls, Judar perched stiffly on a low stool, Hakuryuu meticulously weaving his long, ink-black hair into intricate braids despite Judar’s impatient grumbling. "Fucking great," Judar whispered to Hakuryuu under his breath, glaring sidelong at Yunan’s gentle tutoring. "Now the old man can play happy family with those two idiots instead of helping us."

"Patience, Judar," Yunan called over without turning, his voice cutting through the murmuring fire like a knife. "I don't need to teach you how to wield magic. You're already strong enough to defeat Gyokuen." Judar stiffened, Hakuryuu’s fingers freezing mid-braid. "What are you saying?" Judar huffed, twisting around to face the sorcerer. "I'm not! I used magic once. That was an accident—I can't command anything!" The firelight caught the furious disbelief in his crimson eyes. "That's because you used your first spell to protect your brother and Hakuryuu, isn't it?" Yunan countered calmly, finally glancing at him. Hakuryuu nodded silently, the truth hanging heavy in the air—Judar’s explosive magic had been ignited solely to shield him from Gyokuen’s wrath. Aladdin’s own magic had awakened under similar circumstances. "You're not meant to destroy, Judar," Yunan explained. Judar’s scowl deepened, etched with confusion and simmering rage. "How the hell am I gonna fight with that? I can't protect anything!"

Yunan rose smoothly, crossing the fragrant wooden floorboards. He gently scooped Hakuryuu’s sleeping black cat from its cushion—a small mouse curled trustingly against its fur—and placed the warm bundle into Judar’s tense arms. "You can free his spirit," Yunan murmured, holding Judar’s startled gaze. "You feel it, don't you? The twisted knot beneath the fur?" Judar’s breath hitched; yes, he could—a chilling dissonance beneath the familiar purr, like a heartbeat trapped in ice. Hakuryuu leaned protectively over Judar’s shoulder, his brows furrowed. "Don't curse my cat," he warned sharply. Yunan shook his head softly. "Too late, Hakuryuu. This isn't merely an animal... there's already a strong curse anchoring it." He paused, letting the revelation sink in. "I told you... your mother doesn't truly possess the power to destroy life. She merely... shifts it. Twists it." Hakuryuu’s eyes widened, horrified understanding dawning as he stared at the cat that had faithfully shadowed him for years—its sleek fur suddenly seeming monstrously unfamiliar under the flickering firelight. "What do you mean—?" Hakuryuu choked out, his hand hovering uncertainly above the sleeping creature’s head.

Judar’s fingers trembled where they brushed the cat’s neck. The cursed energy felt palpable now—a suffocating, oily resonance wrapped around the creature’s core essence. Yunan’s weathered hand rested briefly on Judar’s shoulder. "The magic is parasitic, Judar. Not annihilation. Your instinct—that fierce protection—can unravel it." Hakuryuu’s knuckles whitened as he gripped Judar’s stool. "Then..." he breathed, voice rough with decades of suppressed grief, "...that means...?" He couldn’t finish, but the terrifying hope—and crushing guilt—in his dragon-blue eyes was unmistakable. The small mouse stirred in its sleep, its tiny paws twitching nervously against the cat’s side as if sensing the unbearable tension coiling tighter around them.

Judar pushed the still-sleeping cat-mouse gently into Hakuryuu's arms. "I'll free them," Judar whispered, locking eyes with Hakuryuu. He rose, bare feet planted firm on the cool wooden floorboards radiating ancient power. His hands lifted, palms facing the creatures Hakuryuu cradled protectively. Radiant energy—not Gyokuen's corrosive hunger, but something cleaner, hotter, born from that single desperate act protecting Hakuryuu—began pouring into his arms. It burned like molten sunlight beneath his skin—vibrant, painful, euphoric. Hakuryuu stared, transfixed by the raw power shimmering around Judar's lean frame—the sheer improbability of it stealing his breath. Judar thought fiercely of Aladdin: not the defiant glare from the forest, but earlier—the small, stubborn boy slipping candy wrappers under Judar’s door after each shouting match. How he’d quietly done Judar’s chores—fixing torn robes, scrubbing ink stains—and Judar had snarled, mistaking kindness for mocking weakness. Judar’s chest tightened painfully. Aladdin wasn’t showing off purity. He was just... loving him. Stubbornly, foolishly loving him.

Judar inhaled sharply, the scent of drying herbs and woodsmoke sharpening his focus. He wasn't bad. He wasn't broken. He just... loved differently. Ferociously. Protectively. Like Hakuryuu shielding him against the trunk. Like Aladdin sneaking into Gyokuen's sanctum. And Hakuryuu's loyal companions—always curled together beside him, the cat carrying the mouse with impossible tenderness? These were Hakuyuu and Hakuren, trapped lifetimes ago by Gyokuen’s twisted games. Judar knew it deep in his scorched bones. He could see echoes of Hakuryuu’s stoic features in the feline slant of Hakuren’s eyes, Hakuyuu’s frantic energy in the mouse’s restless twitching. I can free them now. The conviction surged through him, hotter than his magic. This wasn't about power borrowed or stolen. It was about tearing apart Gyokuen’s lies with the strength she couldn't comprehend—the strength born from refusing to let those he loved suffer. He focused; the radiant energy condensed into threads of pure, shimmering defiance, wrapping gently around the cat and mouse.

The air hummed. The curse recoiled violently—a shrill, discordant shriek only Judar heard—as his magic pierced its parasitic core. Light erupted—not a blinding explosion, but a profound, resonant unfurling, like the sun breaking through storm clouds. Hakuryuu gasped, staggering back as the familiar fur dissolved into swirling motes of sapphire-blue energy. Hakuren materialized first—a wiry teenager with Hakuryuu’s dark-blue hair, hands instinctively clutching Hakuyuu—who emerged blinking rapidly, bewildered but unmistakably human. They collapsed onto the fragrant wood floorboards, Hakuyuu letting out a choked sob as Hakuryuu fell to his knees beside them, pulling them into a crushing embrace. They were cold—so cold—and trembling violently, but alive. Truly, impossibly alive. And above them, Judar stood, panting heavily, radiant energy fading from his palms, raw vulnerability replacing his arrogance—a flicker of terrified awe mirrored in Hakuryuu's tear-filled eyes.

"You were always here," Hakuryuu breathed, disbelief cracking his stoic facade. He clutched Hakuren’s shoulder, Hakuyuu’s trembling hand digging into Hakuryuu’s tunic—proof against decades of despair. Then, Hakuryuu looked up at Judar, the words raw and reverent. "Thank you." Hakuren tried to speak next, his voice rasping, unsure and unsteady from disuse: "Good... job." Alibaba stared at the scene, utterly transfixed by the impossible reunion—two brothers cursed as beasts, restored before his eyes. "Magic," he whispered, stunned reverence softening his determined features, "is amazing."

Hakuryuu gently pulled Hakuyuu upright, addressing Alibaba directly. "Maybe whoever you were searching for," he said, his gaze sharpening with grim certainty, "is cursed too." Alibaba froze, the implication striking deep—perhaps his own parents weren't stone statues, but twisted beasts hidden within the bathhouse menagerie. "We'll know," Hakuren added firmly, leaning heavily on Hakuryuu but regaining his voice, "after we take down Gyokuen." Hakuyuu barked a hoarse laugh, wiping tears fiercely. "I'm not eager to be turned into a mouse again, brother!" He ruffled Hakuryuu's dark hair affectionately, the gesture achingly familiar despite decades lost.

"Just come along," Judar interjected impatiently, radiant energy still flickering faintly around his fingertips. He scanned the stunned faces—Hakuren’s wary appraisal, Hakuyuu’s brittle amusement, Alibaba’s dawning resolve. "We need to show everyone what Gyokuen’s done. Every cursed spirit, every stolen life." He gestured sharply towards the distant bathhouse, its chimneys belching noxious steam into the twilight. "I’ll tear her power out—make her weak as a kitten. Then you," he jabbed a finger at Hakuryuu, "change things. Rule properly. This place shouldn’t have one greedy parasite hoarding magic like cheap trinkets."

Hakuren frowned, rubbing warmth back into his thin arms—the ghostly chill of decades as a cat clinging to his bones. "Wise words," he observed dryly, voice rasping like gravel, "from someone I watched sulk over sketchbooks and throw tantrums." Judar’s bark of laughter cut through the tension, sharp and genuine. "Shut up!" he retorted, a grin flashing across his face. "You were way cuter purring on Hakuryuu’s shoulder!" Hakuyuu chuckled, the sound rusty but real, as he playfully messed up Hakuryuu's already disheveled bun. "Less cute, more useful now, Judar. Let’s move before she smells freed magic."

"You’re already going?" Yunan asked softly, lowering a towel stained with dried tears. Morgiana knelt beside him, her fingers gently weaving another stitch into a half-finished wool scarf. "Stop crying, old man," Judar scoffed, rolling his crimson eyes, though his tone lacked its usual bite. "You’re welcome to visit and all that shit. Now let’s go." Alibaba offered Yunan a respectful nod, then turned towards the door, his shoulders squared with purpose. But Morgiana’s calloused hand caught his wrist, stopping him mid-stride. "I’ll stay here," she murmured, placing a small, clumsy woolen figure—a rough likeness of Alibaba himself—into his palm. Her smile was tentative but warm. "I’m sorry… but I’m finally free. Thanks to you."

Alibaba stared at the tiny effigy, the wool rough against his skin. He traced its stitched grin with his thumb, the familiar ache for his own parents sharpening in his chest. "I see," he whispered, closing his fingers around it. "You shouldn’t go back to this place then. It hurt you." His grip tightened. "But I have to help my friend Aladdin." Morgiana’s dark eyes softened. " Our friend," she corrected gently. "Please tell him… I’m sorry I couldn’t come. Yunan is a good man," she added, glancing at the sorcerer who watched them with quiet pride. "I’ll be safe with him." Alibaba’s answering smile was bittersweet as he tucked the woolen figure into his pocket. "I’ll… see you then," he managed, his voice thick. "Someday." He turned quickly, blinking hard. Yunan stepped beside Morgiana as the group—Judar, Hakuryuu flanked by his restored brothers and Alibaba—walked into the shimmering twilight towards the bathhouse’s oppressive glowing air.

"Go ahead," Judar commanded, his voice rough but steady. "We need to get Aladdin. Me and Hakuryuu." Hakuryuu’s brow furrowed sharply, a flicker of confusion crossing his scarred features as he turned to Judar. "Why?" he demanded, the words tight. "Didn’t you always say it was you and me against everyone else? Why did you change your mind?" The air grew thick with unsaid accusations, Hakuryuu’s knuckles whitening against the fabric of his sleeve.

Judar’s sharp intake of breath was audible. He reached out, fingers trembling slightly before grasping Hakuryuu’s scarred hand tightly, weaving their fingers together. Hakuryuu’s gaze remained locked on him, granite-blue eyes searching Judar’s face—the pale skin taut with unspoken vulnerability. "You told me never to forget myself," Judar murmured, his voice losing its usual abrasive edge, replaced by a raw rasp. "But I already did." He swallowed hard, gaze dropping briefly to their joined hands. "Because I was jealous. Of Solomon’s attention, of Aladdin—my own brother—and I never accepted him. I pushed him away like trash." His crimson eyes lifted to Hakuryuu’s. "But I can’t win without him now. Not against Gyokuen, not against anything. I want to find him... and tell him I’m sorry. For every cruel word. For pretending he wasn’t family." He squeezed Hakuryuu’s hand fiercely. "And that I’ll stay with you, Ryuu. Here—where I finally belong. In this mad, magical world... and with you, who watched over me since I washed up half-drowned and screaming."

Hakuryuu remained still for a heartbeat, the crackling tension between them sharp as shattered glass. Then, without warning, he surged forward, pressing his forehead hard against Judar's—a dragon's silent vow. The scars beneath his right eye brushed Judar's pale skin, rough as tree bark. "Stop talking nonsense," Hakuryuu breathed, voice thick with unnamed emotion. "Just hold on tight." In that suspended moment, Judar glimpsed the flicker of Hakuren’s smirk and Hakuyuu’s muffled cough—ghosts of the teasing brothers Hakuryuu had silently protected for decades.

Wind screamed as Hakuryuu’s transformation ripped through the twilight. Snow-white scales erupted across his skin, wings unfurling like torn silk banners catching fire from the setting sun. Judar scrambled onto his back, fingers digging between icy plates that smelled of deep water. Below, Alibaba shouted directions toward Sinbad’s coastal fortress, his voice swallowed by the dragon’s first thunderous wingbeat. As they vaulted skyward, Hakuryuu’s brothers dwindled to specks beside Alibaba—Hakuren already waving them off with reckless enthusiasm, Hakuyuu’s stern face tilted upward in unspoken trust.

Judar pressed his cheek to Hakuryuu’s scaled neck, the cold biting through his skin. Below, the Spirit River coiled like liquid mercury, reflecting the bathhouse’s garish neon signs. He could see Aladdin’s terrified face superimposed over the water—not the defiant glare from the sanctum, but the small boy sneaking candy wrappers under his door after Judar had been expelled from school after causing trouble again. The memory stung worse than the wind. Hakuryuu banked sharply, avoiding a floating lantern swarm that hissed like angry geese. "Sinbad’s ship," Hakuryuu’s voice echoed telepathically, a low rumble vibrating through Judar’s ribs, "lies beyond the Bone Reef."

Below, Sinbad’s warship Fanalis sliced through the phosphorescent waves, its obsidian hull gleaming wetly. Up on deck, General Masrur shielded his eyes against the spray, watching the white dragon descend. Beside him, Ja’far’s coiled scarf tightened reflexively. "Is that…?" he began, but Hakuryuu’s landing cut him off—a thunderous slap of scaled belly against water that soaked the starboard rail. Before the spray settled, Judar leaped onto the deck, boots skidding on the slippery wood. He ignored Sinbad’s generals entirely, streaking past racks of harpoons toward Aladdin, who stood frozen near the helm clutching Ugo’s flute.

Aladdin barely registered the cold seawater soaking his blue hair—Judar’s arms crushed him so fiercely his ribs creaked. "Judar?" Aladdin whispered, bewildered. Judar’s ragged breaths shuddered against his neck, hot and damp. Carefully, Aladdin lifted trembling hands to pat Judar’s heaving back—the fabric of his brother’s robe scratchy with dried spirit-blood. "Why are you crying?" Aladdin asked. The flute pulsed cold between them. Judar’s grip tightened impossibly, muffling his voice against Aladdin’s scalp: "I missed you, idiot!" He pulled back slightly, tear tracks cutting through grime on his pale cheeks. "You should’ve left already! Why didn`t you go home?" The accusation cracked, raw. "You know I can’t follow you."

"If you want to stay," Aladdin murmured, fingers curling into Judar’s stained sleeve, "I need to make sure you’re safe." He gestured vaguely toward the distant bathhouse looming like a diseased jewel. "That’s why I worked for Gyokuen. I know you don`t want to come home with me no matter how often I ask." Judar flinched. "I never hated you," he rasped, pulling Aladdin close again, burying his face in the boy’s damp blue hair. "You're my brother, and I love you. But..." His crimson eyes flicked involuntarily toward Hakuryuu—now shifting impatiently in the churning water, scales catching the dying light like molten silver against ink-dark waves. "But I also love him. More than I ever thought I could love anyone."

Aladdin stared past Judar’s shoulder, his gaze lingering on the dragon. Hakuryuu’s massive head lifted slightly, golden eyes meeting Aladdin’s with unnerving intelligence—an unspoken plea echoing the desperate yearning in Judar’s voice. Slowly, Aladdin nodded, a small, determined set to his jaw. "Okay," he breathed, tightening his grip on Judar’s robe. "I’ll help you."
Ugo’s flute grew icy against his chest, its intricate etchings blazing with inner light—responding to his resolve, guiding his intention like a lodestone drawn toward homecoming. Judar choked out a watery laugh, crushing Aladdin tighter against him. "I’m sorry, Chibi," he rasped into Aladdin’s hair, the old nickname rough with sincerity. "For everything."

"It's nice that you two are getting along," Sinbad remarked, a lazy smirk curling his lips. The ocean breeze whipped strands of purple into his eyes, but his gaze remained sharp—taking in every tremor in Aladdin’s hands, every guarded slump of Judar’s shoulders. Judar whirled, crimson eyes flashing. "Oh, shut up!" he snapped, stepping protectively in front of Aladdin. "Tell me you have a grand plan or something. Otherwise, we’ll do what I say." Hakuryuu surged beneath the waves nearby, sinuous coils displacing water with a low growl that vibrated through the deck planks—impatient, predatory, smelling distant battle like blood in salt air.

"What’s your plan?" Aladdin asked softly, fingers tightening around Ugo’s pulsing flute. Judar spun back, a savage grin spreading across his face—raw magic flickering like trapped lightning along his fingertips. "Simple," he declared, jabbing a thumb toward the bathhouse glowing monstrously on the horizon. "You and Alibanani will cause trouble downstairs—smash her spirit contracts, steal her hoarded magic jars, whatever chaos you can muster. Meanwhile," his grin turned feral, "me and Hakuryuu kill his dear mother." Aladdin stumbled back, blue eyes wide with horror. " K-kill her?! We can’t do that—!"

"Don’t be dramatic, Chibi," Judar pouted, crossing lean arms over his chest. The gesture was almost childish, but his voice dripped venomous ice. "She wanted to kill you, remember? That ‘kindly’ bathhouse mistress?" He mimicked Gyokuen’s saccharine tones mockingly. Aladdin shrugged a little, chewing his lip. "Still... she’s Hakuryuu’s mom..." His gaze drifted to Hakuryuu’s immense form slicing through dark waves—the dragon’s golden eyes narrowed, fixated on the distant neon-lit chimneys. A low, resonant rumble echoed across the water—not denial, but grim affirmation. Sinbad chuckled, adjusting his embroidered coat sleeves. "A direct approach," he mused, stepping forward. "I like that. Sadly, however, I can`t help you."

Judar’s impatient sigh fogged the cold sea air. His hand sliced through the mist dismissively. "Don’t care what you do," he snapped, crimson eyes boring into Sinbad’s amused gaze without flinching. "As long as Aladdin helps me." He jerked his chin toward his brother without looking away from Sinbad—daring him to contradict. "His magic’s stronger than mine anyway." Aladdin’s eyes widened, blue braids plastered by wind to his cheeks. Had Judar - who’d spent years snarling that Aladdin was useless - just admitted that? Breath caught in his throat. Ja’far sighed softly beside Sinbad, thumb rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his coiled headscarf. The faint clink of hidden blades chimed beneath his silks. "Fine," Ja’far conceded crisply. "We’ll cause a distraction. Fireworks, perhaps..." Sinbad grinned, already unfolding a star-chart tattooed onto his palm. "Oh, we’ll stir the city up quite thoroughly." Ja’far finished: "Enough to draw every eye—including Gyokuen’s—skyward."

Judar’s answering nod was curt as a knife-strike. Magic prickled dangerously around him—not protective this time, but predatory. "Fine," he echoed. "Let’s go." Bare feet slapped wet deck wood as he vaulted over the railing toward Hakuryuu’s coiled silhouette. Aladdin scrambled after him, scrambling onto the dragon’s broad shoulders—its scales slick beneath trembling fingers. Hakuryuu surged forward without a sound, his powerful muscles coiling and releasing under Judar’s thighs—a silent promise echoing through touch alone. Aladdin clutched handfuls of Judar’s ragged robe, burying his fear-slick face against his brother’s scarred back. Behind them, Ja’far’s quiet command cut through the rising wind: "Ready the sky-lanterns." Then Sinbad’s booming laugh: "Let’s paint the heavens crimson!" White-hot sparks began spiraling upward from the ship’s deck—silent heralds of chaos.

“Scared?" Judar’s grin cut through the biting wind, sharp and bright as shrapnel against the neon-soaked dark. He felt Aladdin’s muffled whimper vibrate through his back where the boy clung, fingers knotted in his robe. Below them, Hakuryuu’s immense body dipped low, skimming the Spirit River’s mercury-like surface—so close Aladdin could see grotesque faces screaming silently beneath the churning water. "Yeah..." Aladdin choked out, burying his freezing nose deeper into Judar’s shoulder. "I don’t know why you’re so confident!" Judar’s laugh was a raw scrape, swallowed by the roar of Hakuryuu’s wings tearing the sky apart. "Simple," he yelled over the din, twisting to catch Aladdin’s terrified blue eyes. "I have you—and you’ll protect me." He jerked his chin toward Hakuryuu’s scaled neck gleaming slick under bathhouse lights. "And I have Hakuryuu."

Judar locked eyes with Aladdin, crimson boring into blue with fierce determination. "We’ll do this together—I’ll send you home. Promise." Warmth flooded Aladdin’s chest despite the icy wind, dissolving the knot of fear. He hugged Judar tighter, pressing his damp forehead against Judar’s scarred spine. "How can I let you go," Aladdin murmured, voice thick, "when you’re finally so nice? I mean..." He hesitated, huffing a small laugh into wind-whipped fabric. "...that you admitted it?" A flicker of Judar’s old arrogance flashed across his face—a familiar spark beneath newfound sincerity. "Well," he scoffed, cuffing Aladdin lightly on the head, "don’t get used to it."

---

Alibaba stirred cooling dregs of tea, the cracked porcelain mug warming his palms as crimson lanterns ignited across the cityscape. Outside the steamed-over diner window, the streets pulsed awake—faceless shadows melted into elongated forms, flickering gods materialized from alleyway smoke, their whispered hymns blending with the clamor of awakening spirits. A familiar blue braid bobbed through the spectral throng. Aladdin burst through the door, tugging a scowling Judar behind him, Hakuryuu a silent shadow at their back. "Alibaba!" Aladdin chirruped, cheeks flushed with triumph. "Look! You freed Morgiana! Juju told me!" A startled laugh ripped from Alibaba’s throat before he could stifle it. " Juju?" he choked, wiping his eye.

Judar’s crimson glare snapped onto Alibaba like a crosshair. "If you dare call me that," he hissed, knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists, the diner’s fluorescent light catching the anger tightening his jaw, "I’ll strangle you—" Hakuryuu’s breath ghosted against Judar’s ear, cool as river mist. "Can I call you that?" Judar stiffened, a rush of heat flooding his pale cheeks. "N-no," he stammered, voice suddenly thick, torn between fury and fluster, "I mean... hey!" He whirled abruptly, scanning their mismatched group clustered beneath the flickering diner sign. "Where’s Hakuren? Hakuyuu? Didn’t they slink back with you?"

Alibaba nodded towards the crowded cobblestone plaza. "They’re over there." His finger pointed to a worn stone bench beneath a twisted willow tree. Hakuren sat still, Hakuyuu perched stoically beside them. They watched Hakuei near the bathhouse’s shimmering curtain entrance. She moved gracefully, welcoming a trio of nervous-looking spirits with steaming towels and a genuine, warming smile—utterly oblivious to her brothers’ gazes. Hakuryuu’s throat bobbed visibly. "Wait here," he murmured, voice catching thickly. Without waiting for acknowledgment, he strode across the uneven stones toward the bench, footsteps echoing softly in the sudden hush. He stopped before Hakuren. "I’m sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "For making her forget you." His knuckles whitened against his thighs. "For all of it."

Hakuren tilted his head—a cat-like gesture lingering even in human form—his smile small but gentle. "You protected her," he replied softly, glancing back at Hakuei’s radiant figure. "Back when we were cursed… you told me once you’d rather fight with her than let Gyokuen twist her mind too." Hakuyuu shifted, his stern gaze fixed on Hakuryuu’s scarred face. "So," Hakuyuu added quietly, "I think the one who suffered most wasn’t Hakuei… or us. It was you." Hakuryuu blinked, stunned. "You remember?" He swallowed hard. "Everything I said? Everything I did while…?" Hakuyuu nodded once, sharply. "Every word. Every apology you whispered to a cat in empty corridors. Every tear you shed over a sleeping mouse." His voice dropped lower. "Gyokuen made sure we heard. A cruel joke—conscious but voiceless, trapped inside fur and whiskers… watching you break."

Hakuryuu recoiled as if struck, the burn scars beneath his right eye seeming to pulse in the shifting lantern light. "Whatever she is—" he began shakily, but Hakuyuu cut him off. "She’s not ours. Not Hakuei’s. Not anyone’s mother." Hakuren leaned forward, eyes intense. "She wore Mother’s face like a mask." Hakuyuu’s jaw tightened. "And you wore guilt like armor." Hakuren placed a tentative hand on Hakuryuu’s trembling forearm. "But Judar saw through both." Hakuryuu flinched at the name. Hakuyuu met his gaze squarely. "He was right. It’s time you protected this place. You lead." Hakuryuu shook his head violently. "I’m not strong enough. I couldn’t save you—" Hakuren surged up, pulling Hakuryuu into a fierce embrace that silenced him. "We’ll help you," Hakuren murmured into his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Hakuei’s distant, smiling silhouette. "All of us."

Over by the diner, Judar watched Hakuryuu’s shoulders slump—then slowly straighten—within his brothers’ arms. Something sharp and unexpected twisted behind Judar’s ribs. He turned abruptly, grabbing Aladdin’s coat sleeve. "Come on, Chibi," he growled, dragging him toward the bustling bathhouse entrance. "While they’re distracted." Alibaba followed wordlessly, Morgiana shadowing his steps like a silent vow. Judar’s crimson eyes scanned the golden-lit facade—its carved dragons snarling, its steam belching thick as poisoned breath. His fingers brushed the dagger concealed beneath his robe.

Judar didn’t head inside. Instead, he jerked Aladdin past the main door into suffocating alley shadows thick with discarded spirit-rice sacks and rotting herbs. A narrow shaft gaped near steaming kitchens—barely wider than Aladdin’s shoulders—its iron rim slick with condensation. Judar pointed silently. In a fluid motion, he ran—bare feet slapping damp cobbles—then vaulted onto crumbling pipes lining the wall. They groaned under his weight, but he landed soundlessly in the shaft’s mouth, crouched like a spider. Below him, darkness swallowed the drop. "This way," he hissed. Aladdin froze. One misstep. Plummet. Death. The smell of wet rust and decay choked him. "Come on!" Judar snapped. "Don’t think!"

Aladdin’s knuckles whitened on the pipe. "I—I’m scared," he whispered, swallowed by alley echoes. Below, something metallic clattered deep in the void. "I can’t!" His voice cracked. Judar leaned forward, ink-black hair whipping his face. "Look at me, idiot." In the shaft’s gloom, his pale skin seemed to glow. "I’ve done it." His lips curled—not quite a sneer. Not quite kindness. "So can you." He paused, the words hanging like a challenge. "Haven’t I always said..." His voice dropped, rough. "...you’re better at everything?" Aladdin stared - years of Judar snarling useless, weak, Solomon’s favorite—then slowly, a tremulous smile broke through. He nodded.

He jumped. The pipe buckled instantly. Aladdin scrambled wildly as it tore loose—falling, boots skidding on wet metal—toward the gaping shaft. Judar lunged, fingers closing like iron shackles around Aladdin’s forearm just as the pipe vanished into blackness with a deafening crash. He hauled him up, panting, into the cramped shaft. "Told you," Judar grinned, fierce and breathless—grime streaking his cheeks where sweat had mixed with alley filth. Aladdin didn’t answer. He trembled against Judar, breaths ragged gulps in the stifling dark—charcoal dust clinging to his throat, the sour tang of decay thick as clotting blood.

"Why didn’t we take Hakuryuu with us?" Aladdin rasped, crawling forward behind Judar in the suffocating dark. His knuckles scraped rusted metal, the sour stench of decaying pipes thick in his throat. "He could’ve—" Judar’s silhouette froze ahead. "I don’t wanna risk his safety," Judar cut in, voice flat and final. His shoulders lifted in a sharp shrug that scraped against the shaft wall. Dust sprinkled onto Aladdin’s head. "He’s finally happy now. With his family and all." Silence stretched, broken only by their ragged breathing. Then, softer, almost swallowed by the darkness: "I mean... he’s who I wanna protect."

Aladdin’s hand found Judar’s ankle, cold and trembling in the cramped space. The metal under them vibrated with distant boiler roars, a low, threatening hum that resonated in their bones. "I know," Aladdin whispered, fingers tightening. The acknowledgement hung heavy between them—Judar’s fierce, possessive love laid bare not with grand declarations, but in this desperate, grimy crawl away from Hakuryuu’s fragile peace. "I’ll help you."

Judar exhaled, a harsh puff of air stirring the stale gloom. "Quiet now," he hissed, pressing forward. The shaft angled sharply upward, the metal groaning ominously. They emerged onto a narrow catwalk slick with condensation, high above the bathhouse’s central boiler cavern. Below, monstrous furnaces pulsed like beating hearts, casting hellish orange light on sweating, soot-streaked spirits hauling coal.

----

Gyokuen hunched over her cluttered desk, fingers digging into her temples as if to claw out the throbbing ache behind her skull. Papers detailing bathhouse debts scattered across the floor, kicked aside in her fury. "My magic’s fading," she hissed through clenched teeth, the words jagged and raw. Across the room, Jamil leaned against a cracked pillar, clutching his shattered arm—a souvenir from the barely contained riots starting from Alibaba`s fight to free the slaves. He chuckled, a wet, rasping sound. "Wasn’t really your magic now, was it?" Gyokuen’s head snapped up. Her eyes, usually honeyed sweetness, burned with venomous rage. Her wrist flickered—a swift, serpentine motion—and Jamil’s mocking grin vanished as he shriveled into a trembling brown rabbit. She snatched him up by the ears, dangling him like spoiled meat. "Should’ve done that decades ago, arrogant fool." Her knuckles whitened as she squeezed. "Tonight," she whispered, breath hot against his twitching nose, "you’ll be stew."

Gyokuen flinched at the sudden metallic groan reverberating through her chamber’s floor—the distant shriek of twisting iron, like a dying beast’s cry from the boiler depths below. Dust sifted from the ceiling as the elevator chimed softly behind her, its doors sliding open to reveal Judar’s lean silhouette haloed in steam, and beside him, Aladdin. But this wasn’t the trembling boy who’d stumbled into her bathhouse months ago; Aladdin stood unflinching, Ugo’s celestial flute glowing faintly at his throat, an aura of quiet authority radiating from him like heat from cracked pavement. Gyokuen hissed through clenched teeth, Jamil’s rabbit form trembling in her grip. " You? How dare you trespass here, you damned brat!" Her voice cracked, raw with disbelief and venom.

Aladdin took a step forward, his gaze steady as polished stone. "Kougyoku showed us the service tunnels," he said calmly. Gyokuen’s knuckles blanched around the rabbit’s ears. " Kougyoku?" she shrieked, stumbling backward until her hips hit the desk’s edge. "I’ll have that worthless girl skinned alive for this!" Aladdin shook his head, the blue braid swaying like a pendulum. "It’s over. Hakuei unlocked the staff quarters. Hakuryuu diverted the spirit guards. Alibaba rallied the workers." He spread his hands. " Everyone helped me." A jagged laugh tore from Gyokuen’s throat. "You think your rabble can kill me? I built this empire on bones!"

Judar leaned against the elevator frame, arms crossed, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. "Still barking?" He snorted. "Should’ve listened when I offered you mercy." Gyokuen’s head whipped toward him, confusion twisting her predatory glare. Judar shrugged—a dismissive roll of his shoulders. "Don’t look at me," he drawled, flicking imaginary dust from his sleeve. " I'd have slit your throat. Guess you should thank my baby brother for your pathetic life." Aladdin tightened his grip on the glowing flute at his chest. "I don’t want to kill you," he said softly. Gyokuen shuddered—not with fear, but with visceral disgust. "Mercy?" she spat, voice dripping with acid. "I’d rather rot in oblivion than breathe another second powerless! At your mercy?!"

Aladdin’s eyes hardened like frozen cobalt. "Exactly." He raised his hand. Ugo’s flute blazed—incandescent light swallowing the room—as he stretched his arm toward the trembling bathhouse queen. "That’s why I’m doing this." Gyokuen blinked—once, twice—as the radiance seared her vision, leaving afterimages of wings and stars. When the light faded, she stood small and bewildered on the cold stone floor. Her ornate robes hung loose like discarded theater curtains. Two thick brown braids framed a round, childlike face. A simple white shift dress draped her narrow shoulders. Large dark eyes blinked up in naive confusion. "No!" The voice that escaped was thin and trembling—a little girl’s protest. "I’m... I’m Arba... again..."

Aladdin knelt, meeting those wide, terrified eyes. "Yes," he murmured. "This is who you really are. Powerless." Arba trembled, tiny fists clenched at her sides. " How?" she whispered, tears welling. "How could I lose? You can’t—you can’t do this!" Judar pushed off the wall, strolling toward Aladdin with deliberate slowness. He stopped beside his brother, crimson gaze fixed on the sobbing child. "Told you," he muttered to Aladdin, almost fondly. "Dramatic to the end."

----

Hakuryuu burst through the doorway, chest heaving, sweat dripping down the scarred right side of his face. His dark-blue bun had loosened, strands plastered to his neck. "What—?" he gasped, staring at the small child trembling before Aladdin. Arba whimpered, shrinking back against the desk leg.

Judar tilted his head, observing Arba's tear-streaked face with unnerving detachment. "Guess the weakest, most insecure assholes are the ones who crave power over others," he murmured, not angry but strangely serene. His fingers brushed Hakuryuu's elbow. "Just like those losers in school who bullied me back then." A dry chuckle escaped him. "And I thought it was my fault. How stupid." Aladdin shifted, eyes soft. "I told you this," he whispered. "Years ago. You didn't listen."

Hakuryuu knelt slowly, his blue eyes locked on Arba's terrified ones. "What will happen to her now?" he asked quietly, voice thick. "I mean... this is... Gyokuen, right?" Judar's hand slid into Hakuryuu’s, grip warm and grounding. "Not anymore," he declared flatly. His lips brushed Hakuryuu's cheekbone, then trailed to his neck—a possessive, lingering touch. "The decision's yours," he murmured against Hakuryuu's pulse, "but I'd enjoy her staying in this world as a weak human..." He pulled back slightly, grinning sharply. "...just like the ones she hated. She’ll watch you rule this place." Hakuryuu’s breath hitched as Judar leaned closer, voice dropping to a silken purr. "She called you weak, but you’ll have everything... and she’ll have nothing."

Hakuryuu’s mouth twitched into a fragile smile. "You’re asking me to spare her life," he whispered, thumb stroking Judar’s knuckles. He nodded once—a heavy, final motion. "You have a good heart." Judar’s laugh was a low rumble. "Don’t tell anyone," he breathed against Hakuryuu’s lips before kissing him deeply, fingers tangling in the loose strands of Hakuryuu’s dark hair. Aladdin scrunched his nose. "Ew," he hissed, turning away. Judar broke the kiss to smack the back of Aladdin’s head. "You’ll wish for something like this in a few years," Judar retorted, voice rough but amused. Aladdin rubbed his scalp, grinning. "If you say so."

Arba hiccuped, drawing their attention. She crawled toward the spilled inkwell, oblivious to its stain spreading like a bruise across the stone. Hakuryuu knelt beside her, his hand tentative. "You’ll stay," he murmured. "As Arba." His fingers hovered over her small shoulder—not touching, not yet. "You’ll live." Aladdin crouched, offering her a discarded seal-stamp from Gyokuen’s desk. She accepted it with trembling fingers, pressing its intricate dragon design into her palm like a brand.

----

The bathhouse’s main hall buzzed like an overtaxed boiler—packed bodies shifting nervously under flickering paper lanterns. Spirits crammed shoulder-to-shoulder with freed workers still stained in coal dust and bath salts, their mingled scents of sweat, steamed herbs, and spilled sake thick enough to choke on. A woman clutching her infant son near the entrance whispered, "What happens to us now?" Her knuckles whitened against the baby’s sleeping bundle. Kougyoku nudged Aladdin’s arm, her apron smeared with grease from the kitchens where she’d been kneading dough when the alarms sounded. "Hey," she murmured, pink blossoming across her cheeks, "I hope you forgive my rude behavior earlier... you're really brave, you know?" Aladdin flushed crimson, scalp prickling under her earnest gaze as he stared at his sandals. " Someone`s got a crush," Alibaba sang under his breath, ruffling Aladdin’s blue braid. "I don’t!" Aladdin yelped, swatting Alibaba’s hand away. "Kougyoku’s mean!" Kougyoku gasped, fists jamming onto her hips. "I just apologized!" Before Aladdin could retort, a ripple of murmurs surged—heads craning toward the grand staircase where Hakuryuu stepped onto the landing. Judar lounged against the banister behind him like a panther sunning itself, one arm draped possessively over Arba’s shoulder as she blinked owlishly at the vast crowd, ink-stained fingers clutching Hakuryuu’s robe hem.

"Shut up!" Judar’s shout lashed like a whip crack, silencing the hall. "Your king is speaking!" Hakuryuu stiffened, elbow jabbing Judar’s ribs. "I’m not a king," he hissed, ears burning scarlet. Judar waved him off with a lazy grin. "Details, details," he laughed, loud enough to echo. "This place is yours now—all that paperwork’s signed—isn’t it?" Hakuryuu swallowed hard, squaring his shoulders as centuries of oppressive gloom seemed to lift from the rafters. "Your contracts," he declared, voice ringing with newfound steadiness, "are revoked. Your debts are paid. You are all free." He paused, letting the stunned silence thicken as mouths fell open. "Every one of you has a choice: stay under fair wages and my protection—" his scarred hand curled into a fist, "—or return to your homes, your families, and seek whatever life calls to you." Arba whimpered softly; Hakuryuu’s gaze didn’t waver. "My mother Gyokuen is dead. Her injustices won’t be forgotten—" He bowed low, the polished wood gleaming under his shadow. "—but this house will compensate your losses."

The roar that followed shook plaster dust loose. Bodies surged forward—weeping spirits embraced workers, bath attendants hugged miners, strangers grabbed shoulders and laughed as years of terror bled into euphoria. A coal-smudged child scrambled onto her father’s shoulders, shrieking, "No more chores!" A frail river god kissed Hakuryuu’s knuckles before dissolving into mist, murmuring "Thank you," as he floated toward an open window. Judar stayed plastered against Hakuryuu’s back, arm snug around his waist—an anchor in the chaotic swell—his grin sharp and satisfied. "See?" he breathed into Hakuryuu’s ear, breath stirring loose strands of dark hair. "You sound exactly like a king." Aladdin watched Hakuryuu tilt his head back slightly—just enough to meet Judar’s eyes—and the cold bathhouse heir melted. His eyes softened—not with joy or relief, but with something Aladdin had never seen before—an endless, impossible devotion etched into every line of his face. He didn’t speak; he didn’t need to. Judar’s grin widened, fingers tightening possessively on Hakuryuu’s hipbone.

Tears burned hot trails down Aladdin’s cheeks, sudden and sharp. He spun away, shoving through tangled limbs and jubilant shouts, stumbling blindly toward the entrance. Outside, the humid night air hit him like a slap. He ran—past lantern-lit bridges, down dew-slicked steps—until his lungs screamed and the bathhouse’s clamorous joy faded behind him. He skidded to a halt at the cliff’s edge overlooking the star-streaked ocean, gasping. Hakuryuu’s expression flashed behind his eyelids—that precise blend of thunderstruck awe and fierce possession—locked onto Judar. The kind of look Aladdin had prayed for since he was small: I see you. I choose you. You are everything.

Aladdin sank onto wet grass, knees pulled tight against his chest. A choked sob ripped free. "I love him too," he whispered into the salt-laden breeze. "Solomon did. Mom did." Memories flooded him: Solomon ruffling Judar’s perpetually messy hair despite hissed protests; Judar sketching cartoons under lamplight just to coax Aladdin through nightmares; his brother’s rare, crooked smile reserved solely for stolen moments before dawn. But Hakuryuu’s gaze? That wasn’t familial duty or obligation. That was home. Rooted. Complete. Exactly what Judar had clawed for since Aladdin arrived—unconditional allegiance carved in bone-deep devotion. Aladdin’s fists clenched around damp blades of grass. He’s happy. Finally.

Above him, the twin moons painted silver ripples across black waves. Aladdin traced their light with trembling fingers. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto Judar—grasping at phantom scraps of resentment and buried hope—until this moment. Until Hakuryuu’s raw, unrestrained love severed the last frayed thread. Aladdin tilted his head back, inhaling deeply. The choice wasn’t his to make; it never had been. Judar belonged here. Not just to this realm, but to Hakuryuu—a belonging deeper than blood. Aladdin… belonged elsewhere. With parents who’d mourn a son they’d never remember. With Solomon’s gentle wisdom. With a world untouched by gods and curses.

----

Aladdin jolted awake to the thick scent of buttery pancakes and caramelized eggs, his stomach rumbling as sunlight streamed through paper screens. Outside, the distant hum of the Spirit Train vibrated the wooden floors—a soothing rhythm beneath the bathhouse's uncharacteristic silence. With Gyokuen's reign ended and renovations underway, the cavernous halls felt oddly cozy, filled only with the crackle of hearth fires and muffled voices from the kitchens

Aladdin padded toward the dining terrace, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Aladdin!" Alibaba waved from a low table, his grin wide and genuine. Beside him stood a tall woman with kind, crinkled eyes and dark-brown hair—her hands dusted with flour as she flipped golden pancakes onto a platter. "My mother," Alibaba murmured, scratching his neck. "Turns out I was blind... didn't realize she'd been here all along, scrubbing pots by the laundry boilers." He chuckled softly. "Just like Hakuryuu's brothers were right under our noses. Cursed into being unrecognizable" Aladdin smiled, warmth spreading through his chest. "That's really good, Alibaba-san. Now you can both go home—"

Alibaba squeezed his mother's hand, her calloused fingers tightening around his. "Actually," he said gently, "we'll stay. This place... it's been home longer than anywhere else." His mother nodded, tears glistening as she pressed a pancake into Aladdin's hands—its edges crisp, fragrant with cinnamon. "Maybe someday," Alibaba added softly, "Morgiana will return too. And I..." He hesitated, gaze dropping. "I know I promised to help you find your way back to your world. But I can't leave now."

Aladdin bit into the pancake, the sweetness bursting on his tongue. "That’s okay," he whispered, swallowing hard. "I’m happy for you. And Mor... she’ll definitely come back." He stared at the steam rising from his mug of chrysanthemum tea. "Besides... I don’t even know if there`s a way home for me."

Ugo emerged from the dawn mist pooling near the terrace railing—his translucent form shimmering—lean and serpentine. Sunlight poured through him like honey through cracked amber, casting fractured golden pools on the wooden deck. He lowered himself slowly, coils rippling soundlessly until his face hovered level with Aladdin`s, his skin cool against Aladdin’s cheekbone. The river god’s voice resonated deep, like stones grinding underwater: " I gave you my flute." Aladdin’s hand flew to the iridescent bone flute hanging around his neck; it warmed under his touch, pulsing faintly—a lighthouse beacon piercing fog. Ugo sighed, steam curling into frost patterns on the wood. " This... is your way back. After you go..." His pupils constricted—raw sorrow etched into every syllable. " ...you can never return."

Aladdin clutched the flute until his knuckles bleached. He understood. He’d always understood. His gaze drifted past Ugo to the tunnel veiled behind the waterfall roaring beyond Haku’s bridge. Water droplets glittered like shattered glass in the rising sun. Aladdin closed his eyes, drawing a shuddering breath as he raised the flute to his lips. The note wasn’t sound—it was a silence. A sucking vacuum that tore the roaring cataract into suspended beads of water mid-air before dissolving it into nothingness. Behind it, the tunnel lay bare—a gaping, stone mouth exhaling stale, human-world air thick with car exhaust and damp asphalt. The path to his world, free. "If you go," Ugo rasped, the mist clinging to his form thinning rapidly, "never look back. Not once. Not ever." His serpentine body faded into fractured light. "I’ll... miss you, my friend." Aladdin pressed trembling fingers against Ugo’s shimmering elbow. "I’ll miss you too," he choked, tasting salt on his lips. "Everyone here." He turned towards the dark archway.

"Hey, chibi!" Judar’s voice sliced through the morning mist, sharp with panic. Aladdin froze. "You’re leaving without saying goodbye?!" Aladdin spun around. Judar sprinted towards him, Hakuryuu’s restraining hand ignored. Dust kicked up under his frantic footsteps. Before Aladdin could blink, he was crushed against Judar’s chest—the familiar scent of ozone and charcoal ink smothering him. Judar’s fingers dug into Aladdin’s shoulder blades. "Come with me," Aladdin whispered into his brother’s ragged shirt, knowing the answer. Judar pulled back, gripping Aladdin’s chin. His eyes, always so crimson and fierce, swam in unshed tears. "Stupid idiot," Judar hissed, flicking Aladdin’s forehead. "I’ll never be gone, you understand?! Look down at that doodle you keep! Look at your stupid laptop wallpaper! Look at every ugly-ass cloud that looks like an angry scribble! I’m still here!" Aladdin nodded, tears blurring Hakuryuu’s distant silhouette, Alibaba waving beside his mother. "Will I ever see you again?" Aladdin choked, voice raw. "How can I just… leave?"

Judar swiped roughly at Aladdin’s wet cheeks with his thumb. "Listen," he growled, softer now. "Don’t be a fucking loser crying over me. I wasn’t dragged here 'cause I pissed off some spirit. I’m here because that idiot," he jerked his head toward Hakuryuu, whose steady gaze never wavered, "loved me enough to drag me here—and I chose to stay. But that doesn’t mean I vanish!" He gripped Aladdin’s shoulders, shaking him gently. "And you? You’re stronger than me. You befriended a god. You changed this whole fucking world. You made me..." He swallowed hard. "Remember what I told you before? You make everyone love you without even trying." A ghost of that old, crooked smile touched Judar’s lips—sad, fond, impossible. "Even me." Aladdin lunged forward for one last desperate hug, but Judar shoved him back firmly. "Go. Now." Aladdin stumbled back toward the tunnel. He didn’t dare turn. He didn’t look back.

He ran. The tunnel swallowed him—cold stone scraping his palms, stale air burning his lungs. Behind him, the faint sound of Judar’s choking sob echoed against Hakuryuu’s murmured comfort. Ahead, vague shapes emerged: asphalt gleaming under grey skies, the rumble of distant traffic, the chrome glint of their family car parked crookedly at the cliffside viewpoint. Solomon’s worried face pressed against the windshield. Aladdin squeezed the flute until its melody pulsed like a frantic heartbeat against his ribs. He didn’t look back. Not once. Not ever. The sunlight vanished as the tunnel spat him out onto the crumbling shoulder of Route 9—gravel biting his knees.

"There you are!" Sheba’s frantic scream tore through the damp morning air. Her flashlight clattered onto the muddy ground as she surged forward, scooping Aladdin off his trembling legs. Her arms crushed him tight—her jacket smelled of wet wool and stale coffee. "We’ve been looking for hours!" Solomon sprinted behind her, his face grey with exhaustion as he skidded to a halt. "Where have you been, kiddo?" His voice cracked, rough with fear.

Aladdin dug his fingers into Sheba’s shoulder, lungs heaving. "Judar... didn’t want to come with me," he gasped, tears blurring the dull grey asphalt. "I’m sorry!" The admission ripped free—a raw, jagged wound exposed to the ordinary world. Solomon frowned, hand hovering near Aladdin’s damp forehead. "You’re ice-cold..." Sheba adjusted her grip, peering into Aladdin’s tear-streaked face. "Judar?" She echoed, bewildered. Her brow furrowed—utterly blank, utterly innocent. "Sweetheart, aren’t you a bit too old for imaginary friends?"

Solomon chuckled softly, ruffling Aladdin’s tangled blue braid—a familiar, affectionate gesture that now felt like sandpaper on sunburn. "Probably just overtired and spooked, wandering off in this fog," he murmured, relief thick in his voice. "Let’s get you warmed up." Aladdin froze. Everyone had forgotten. Just as Judar warned: vanished, erased. He twisted in Sheba’s arms, glaring back at the sheer cliff face—solid rock, slick with rain, no archway, no shimmering veil. Only moss and fractured shale. The tunnel was gone. Solomon slid open the car door. Sheba tucked Aladdin into the worn backseat, fussing with a tartan blanket. His parents exchanged soft, relieved whispers—meaningless comforts dripping from their mouths. Oblivious. They didn’t remember Judar at all. He simply… disappeared. Aladdin clutched the edge of the tartan wool, knuckles white.

He stared numbly out the rain-streaked window as Solomon started the engine. The car radio buzzed to life—tinny pop music filling the silence where Judar’s sharp laughter should have been. Then Aladdin’s gaze snagged on a crumpled sheet of paper wedged deep into the seat crevice beside him. Graphite smudged across its surface. Slowly, almost afraid, he pulled it free. It was one of Judar’s old sketches—a messy, furious storm cloud shaped like a roaring dragon, wings spread wide beneath twin moons. Scrawled in the corner, in Judar’s jagged handwriting: Stop crying, Aladdin. Dragons eat clouds.

Aladdin pressed the drawing flat against the wool blanket. In the corner stood two figures, holding hands—one tall with long black hair flying wildly, the other shorter with neat blue tied back. Both smiled happily. Aladdin hugged the paper to his tear-soaked shirt as he cried silently. Judar had existed. Proof scratched in carbon and defiance. He had loved him—in his prickly, impossible way. And now… Judar wasn't just happy. He was home—in the spirit world, ruling storms beside Hakuryuu under Alma Torran’s silver skies. Aladdin sat up straighter, wiping his cheeks roughly with his sleeve. He didn’t vanish. Not really. And Aladdin would live—really live—just as he’d promised his brother in that echoing bathhouse hall.

Outside, grey clouds broke apart. Sunlight speared through the drizzle, painting the wet asphalt gold. Aladdin traced the dragon-cloud's charcoal wings, his knuckles brushing something hard tucked behind the drawing. Confused, he pulled it free—Hakuryuu's golden hairpiece, still warm as if worn moments ago, its intricate dragon motif glinting softly. He clutched it tight. Proof upon proof, artifact upon artifact. Memory layered onto memory. Solomon turned onto the highway humming, oblivious, as the sign for their new town blurred past. Aladdin didn’t glance back. He faced forward, the dragon-cloud sketch and Hakuryuu’s hairpiece pressed close—twin anchors tethering him to a world unseen, unseen but utterly, fiercely real.

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gatto_on_a_dietto, ANYislife, and Soulburner98 as well as 17 guests left kudos on this work!

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ANYislife on Chapter 3 Sun 16 Nov 2025 01:11PM UTC

"Seriously! Everyone in your damn family looks like they stepped off a divine tapestry! What’s your secret? Dragon scales in the shampoo?" Hakuryuu shrugged, pushing a damp strand of dark-blue hair from his forehead. "Water." Judar groaned, sinking until bubbles obscured his scowl. "See? Fucking unfair."

I love this reference so much, I'll be probably the only one who will get it haha 😭
Dragon Hakuryuu is so dear to me, this is turning so interesting! I'm loving it

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Spirited Away

baalsdungeon (orphan_account)

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Chapter 1

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Chapter 2

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Chapter 3

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Chapter 4

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ANYislife on Chapter 3 Sun 16 Nov 2025 01:11PM UTC

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