Work Text:
✧
“Cheers!”
After a chorus of glasses clinking and a few more rounds of toasts given, the rented-out ballroom erupts in chatter and gossip. The sound is almost maddening, echoes bouncing off the high walls. For an achievement so insignificant, the size of celebration as well as the choice of venue was completely unnecessary. Surely, the renter must have been showing off.
How pretentious, Yelan rolls her eyes. However no matter the celebration, Yelan enjoyed indulging in being a showoff herself. She wore a figure-revealing sequin dress that draped elegantly onto the marble floor, paired with rhinestone heels and an assymetrical set of dangling earrings. Resting on her shoulders is a white fur-coat— one that had quite the tale behind it.
Across the enormous venue, she spots the man who had caused this tale, and many more, and the only person who would ever waste his money on such an extravagant ballroom. He is cleanly dressed from head to toe, donning an expensive-looking three-piece suit and a pair of polished shoes. Somehow, the attire doesn’t make him look less like the snake he already was.
Standing at a pillar, he stares at her through the moving crowd and smiles his usual closed-eyed smile, faux-politely raising his glass. Yelan raises it back, and smiles an equally deceitful smile.
Then, those dull lavender eyes open mid-smile to trace around Yelan’s fur coat, slightly narrowing in recognition. She could notice the crinkles of his lips beginning to falter when he realizes that it used to be his.
So he does know I was the one who took it, she secretly gloats inside.
Yelan smiles kindly, settling her glass on a walking waiter’s plate and carefully swerving through the chattering crowd in his direction. His smile turns into a scowl, as he turns away in a fashion that says Oh, here we go again.
“Feofan Sergeyevich Veksel,” she drawls, “Did you need something?” Yelan asks, batting her eyelashes.
Feofan turns back around, facing her, his eyes closing in on the fur coat for a moment before playing along.
“Ah, Yelan, if it isn’t my sworn enemy. If there was anything I needed, it would be to inquire where you’d gotten your new coat from— I couldn’t help but notice how awfully familiar it looks,” he says simply, with a hint of a sneer.
Yelan false-gasps, “Awfully familiar? My coat? Oh, you possibly couldn’t have, I designed it myself.”
“Designed it yourself, you say… I believe the fur on the collar and cuffs are those of a legendary beast’s. People from humbler circumstances rarely get close to such fur, let alone wear it,” he smirks.
Humbler circumstances? Yelan almost rolled her eyes.
“Actually, it wasn’t at all difficult to obtain. It was surprisingly left unattended in a carriage, attached to a winter coat so unsightly that it was practically begging to be recycled.”
The Regrator raises an eyebrow. “I think many would differ and instead argue that the previous design at least had some taste,” he says simply, and raises his glass to sip his wine. Yelan’s eyes catches a glint of the bracelet hiding underneath. My family heirloom. She knew it had went missing during her spy expedition on the Fatui, but to end up in his hands…
Her exasperation must have been showing on her face, because Feofan’s smirk widens. He continues, “Oh, are you interested in this little thing? Funny story, it was also found unattended, as my agent tells me of how it was buried somewhere in the dirt.” He flexes his forearm around, light catching on different angles of the bracelet, “What a shame for the owner, this beautiful thing. Well, finder’s keepers, wouldn’t you say?”
Now it’s Yelan’s turn to scowl. A retort begins to bubble up in her throat. The nerve—
“Now, don’t look so displeased, Yelan. Wouldn’t you say it was a fair trade— a bracelet for a coat? In fact, I believe I’m the one operating at a loss, here.”
“Operating at a loss, you say? So what, you want me to make up for it? I’ll have you know, only one of us here is a banker, and I’m not one for fair trades,” Yelan says, stepping in closer.
He snorts. “So be it. You’ll be paying it back whether you like it or not.”
“Oh? And was that a threat?” His face was inches from hers, as she stares almost threateningly into his lavender eyes. Feofan doesn’t back down. He steps forth, closing the distance between them furthermore—
“I’m only saying,” he leans into her ear, glasses glinting, “every debt requires repayment.”
Yelan watches the raven-haired man disappear into the crowd as does the sickeningly sweet aroma of wine. Narrowing her eyes, she senses that something is off. She steps away from the lights, sneaking off to investigate around the venue.
✧
“What sort of stunt is the Regrator planning on pulling here?” Yelan demands as she all but slams down a second glass of wine on the desk in front of her. The door behind her creaks to a thud, and the clamoring in the banquet hall mutes to silence. Ningguang idly rolls her pipe between her long nails, back turned towards Yelan.
The blue-haired lady crosses her arms. “If he insists on toying with me tonight, I’d like to know the meaning behind it. He’s being awfully suspicious, with this over-compensative venue and all.”
Ningguang spins around on her seat, chuckling. A stream of smoke follows her pipe. “Always had a disdain for that man, haven’t you? Relax, Yelan. Tonight he is on our side.”
Yelan’s jaw almost dropped. “On our side? The Regrator? Correct me if I’m wrong, Ningguang, but you weren’t exactly there to clean up the various messes he’s left for us. He’s Fatui— he cannot be trusted.”
The white-haired woman takes out a small stack of papers and tosses them onto the desk in fromt of her. “I do acknowledge that Liyue’s had a begrudging relationship with the Fatui, and I don’t deny that the Regrator may have his ulterior motives.”
She taps a map littered with carefully drawn-on X’s. Yelan also eyes a contract that’s been signed both by Ningguang and the Regrator. “However, after the assassination of Rex Lapis, we cannot let the perpetrator go unscathed. Whatever games the Regrator is playing, it’s undeniable that our interests are aligned.” she continued.
Yelan’s eyes narrow, requiring further explanation as Ningguang taps an X directly over their location. “The Fatui also wants him captured, as Rex Lapis’ prized possession, the Gnosis, had disappeared during his killing. According to our combined intel, we believe the assassin will be upon us tonight.”
Yelan almost snorts. What a haphazardous plan. A killer on the loose among us, and we’re working with a criminal organization. “And who will be his target this time around? Is this plan truly worth putting so many lives at risk? Ningguang, how do we know this isn’t just another one of the Regrator’s traps?”
She sighed, leaning in with her hands intertwined on the desk. “He believes the hit is being placed on somebody in the Fatui, and in exchange for more protection, he is willing to give up his safety for the capture of the hitman. Yelan, you’ll have to trust me on this one, because this is the best chance we will get to catching this man.”
Yelan scoffs, then puts a palm to her face. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered, trying to keep her composure at how absurd the plan sounds. “Do you know how many operations of mine Feofan has personally botched? In fact, do you know what the Regrator said to me just moments ago? He said ‘debt requires repayment—’ do you not perceive that as a threat, Lady Ningguang?”
“Look Yelan, I don’t care whatever private feud you two have going on, but I need you to be cooperative with him tonight for there is a much bigger picture in mind. He’s already signed a contract which details all of the collateral if you’d like to read it.”
Ningguang spins a pistol and a pouch towards her, which she smoothly catches before they slid off the table. Yelan quickly inspects the pouch’s contents: a smokebomb, a blade, some gauze, and a small coil of rope. And of course Ningguang places all of the plan’s dirty work on her.
“You’d better hope that it isn’t his head I’ll be blowing off tonight,” Yelan says with an angry breath, admitting defeat and strapping the gun in her jacket.
“I’ll be trusting you,” the other woman crossed her legs, smirking.
Without another word, the door reopened then shut with yet another thud.
✧
The banquet hall’s atmosphere had changed in Yelan’s absence. She reentered the ballroom not to chatter and clamor, but moreso to dimmed lights and orchestra as spotlights swept around the dancefloor. Avoiding the lights, her eyes swept around the venue for anybody suspicious before proceeding to the ascending stairs. I’m going to need a better vantage point, she thinks.
Reaching the top of the steps, she was met by even more people who gathered around to get a better view of the dancers. Tsk, this is no good. Yelan headed down the hallway of the second floor, eyes constantly scanning to see if she’s being watched. She stealthily ducks under the velvet rope that blocks the inaccessible balcony, then soundlessly dissappears around the corner.
Yelan stares down at the dancers in the wafting spotlights when she passes by, and she is momentarily distracted. It’s a beautiful sight to behold. Such a shame I have to follow through with this terrible plan.
To her dismay, Yelan finds that her vantage point was taken up by somebody all-too-familiar. Yelan finds Feofan and his faint scent of ash on the hanging balcony, one hand resting on the railway and the other pressing a cigarette to his lips between his fingers. He breathes out, wisps of smoke fogging the lenses of his glasses. Here, his silhouette is outlined by the moving lights far in front of them.
“Orchestra’s beautiful in Liyue,” he remarked without turning, “Might even be a worthy contender of Snezhnaya’s.”
Yelan settles down beside him, crossing both arms on the railway. She seems to be ignoring him, nonchalantly watching the dancers down below. After a few beats of silence, he turns and adds in a dead-pan voice, “You know, I was beginning to enjoy your absence.”
There it was. Must he be so insufferable? She lets out a scoffing breath.
“For somebody who could be in imminent danger, you seem infuriatingly calm,” she muses. “Sitting by yourself way up here… Who knows if you’re the one the assassin wants gone?”
He sucks in another puff from his cigarette before breathing out, fogging up the lens of his glasses. “Perhaps,” he starts, “You intelligence agents grow too accustomed to believing hit is placed on the wealthiest man in the room.”
“And perhaps in turn, wealthy men grow too accustomed into believing that they’re untouchable.”
He grins. Then wordlessly, said wealthy man pulls his collar aside, only enough for Yelan to see. A dark material, difficult to see from the lack of lighting, is present underneath all his layers of clothing. A bulletproof vest. She raises an eyebrow.
“Just in-case,” he says quieter.
Yelan only stares, mildly surprised that he’s decided to show a little vulnerability to her, of all people. Suddenly, she feels the need to level things out.
“I still don’t trust you,” she admits.
“I know,” he says nonchalantly, like it’s a fact.
“Every debt requires repayment,” she echoes, “And will that be happening tonight?” She tilts her head, ready decipher whatever expression will come next.
“Yelan, if I truly wanted repayment, don’t you think I would’ve already gotten it? Dare I say I could change my mind, however.” Feofan looks mildly amused, with a little smirk to add. Yelan squints her eyes, trying to uncover whatever is under that guise of his.
“Hmm. So does that mean you’re not going to rip your precious coat off of my back?”
He lets out a short laugh. “After a few certain design choices… I think it’s value has, well… depreciated.”
“Ha-ha,” she laughs humourlessly.
Yelan decides that perhaps just for now, maybe the Fatui was worthy of some trust. However if something were to happen to any of her belongings, Ningguang would be getting an earful. They stand in silence, both staring down at the crowd below to search for the same target. How strange- for all the hours Yelan had spent loathing this man, she had somehow wounded up with him as somewhat of a partner figure.
Suddenly, Yelan’s eyes zeroes-in on the target. He fits the description of the man who murdered Rex Lapis— tall and pale, with brown hair that almost descends into an ombre. He’s wearing a bowler hat and his hands are in his pockets as he quickly moves along the crowd, head turning around for any watchers.
“Hey,“ she says, quickly nudging Feofan’s arm, “Now’s not the time to be wistfully staring off into the orchestra,” Yelan motions towards the man, who’s made his way to the edge of the crowd. “Bowler hat, black suit,” she provides.
Ignoring her precious quips, Feofan spots the man immediately and he turns away to speak into his chestpiece’s microphone. Yelan does the same with her earpiece, alerting Ningguang and the rest of the Qixing.
Abruptedly, the assassin spots Yelan on the balcony, making direct eye-contact with her before disappearing into the shadows. A chill is sent down her spine. Curses, she silently tuts under her breath and relays that message into her earpiece, too.
“What? He’s seen you?” Feofan exclaims as he places a hand on her shoulder to spin her around.
Grimacing, Yelan brushes his hand off and pulls her gloves on. “Yes he has, and that means we have no time to lose” she says, pulling out her gun.
Feofan tsks, puts away his cigarette, and pulls his gloves on before revealing his own gun, too.
✧
The situation she’s ended up in is like a metaphor she can’t describe. Soft and slow violins reverberate around the ballroom, with guests staring in awe at the full orchestra members who are now performing in the centre of the dancefloor. The spotlight is completely focused on them, as Yelan and Feofan move quickly along the dimmest parts of the hallway.
It had been ages since Yelan last worked with somebody else. And to have strangely ended up with him…
Yelan doesn’t turn around. “Where are your subordinates?” she hisses in a whisper.
“They’ve blocked off all possible exits. Few of them are wandering— investigating the main venue,” he replies in a low voice after his chestpiece clicks.
She nods. They’ve made it to the area they last saw the assassin before he disappeared into the shadows of the halls. Here, the orchestra sounds distant and the crowd is nowhere to be seem here. “On the count of three,” she whispers to her partner, motioning. She counts down. On the third count, she points her gun down the hall suddenly, clearing both the hallway and corner effectively. “Clear.”
When she looks back at Feofan, she sees that he’s still standing in the same spot, observing her.
Yelan hisses, “What are you doing? Have you never cleared a corner before?”
“Must I remind you that I’m a banker? It’s not often that I do fieldwork, you know,” he shrugs.
Yelan groans. And of course he doesn’t know how to investigate.
He continues, “But the assassin has seen you; he knows you’re after him. Don’t you think he would be expecting you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m saying, instead of clearing corners by presenting yourself as a shooting target out in the open, it’s better if we tread carefully and take a moment to think where the assassin could be positioned.” Yelan opened her mouth to argue, then thought about it for a moment. He could be right. From where the assassin was heading, he’s probably waiting to intercept them.
“Hmm, not bad, Fatui.” Feofan lifts a cheek in a sloppy grin.
Using his strategy, the two keep their guns pointed, aiming them to where the assassin would possibly be hiding as they stealthily walk towards the staircase. They daren’t make a noise, almost tip-toeing as they walk.
And just when they’re about to reach the corner around the staircase, Yelan hears a rustle when Feofan quickly spins around, gun aimed behind them. When Yelan tilts her head in question, the Fatui man quietly presses a gloved finger to his lips. “Shhh, there might be somebody there,” he mouths. Steadily, he keeps his gun aimed around the corner, waiting for another sound.
For a moment, it is silent as the two enemies-made-partners hold their breaths in anticipation. When Yelan hears a creak, followed a sound like a gun loading, she raises her pistol towards the direction of the noise. The two hold position, anticipation beginning to bloom in Yelan’s heart—
Suddenly, a bang rings out on the floor above, and a few screams break out around the venue. Anticipation turned into adrenaline, Yelan instantly darts upstairs towards the noise in pursuit, heels clacking against the marble stairs. Feofan hesitates momentarily, suspicious of the noise around the corner of the stairwell, yet he runs after Yelan with a tsk.
There!
Making it back up to the second floor, across an array of tables lies the assassin in all of his glory. Smoke wafts out of the nozzle of his rifle as he’s propped up on the balcony, and surprise flashes in his eyes when he turns around and sees Yelan while she raises her gun directly aiming at his head—
A clang echoes on the floor, followed by a bang as the man drops his gun to use a table as a shield in the fraction of a second. The pistol bullet is stopped by the table, and Yelan grimaces at how weak her gun is. Shifting the pistol to her left hand and flicking out her blade while moving it to her right hand, Yelan hurdles over the tables, launching herself at the man before he can reach his rifle.
She almost flinches when she hears a bang, accompanied by the sound of a bullet whizzing past her ear. It hits the assassin in his outstretched arm. Yelan looks back for a split-second to see Feofan’s gun pointed at him, glasses glinting. At least he can shoot. The man yells, landing on his back, and Yelan lunges at him, aiming to take him at knifepoint.
Unexpectedly, his legs shoot out and connect directly with Yelan’s torso in a powerful kick as she’s sent spiraling towards a wall. The wind is knocked out of her when her back crashes against said wall, rendering her vision blurry. She stands up wobbily, disoriented, and she turns around in half-alertness when she hears multiple footsteps approaching from the staircase.
“Yelan…!”
A bang reverbrates, and her eyes widen in complete alertness when a bullet travels towards her, almost in slow-motion, only to be received by Feofan when he suddenly appears in front of her.
“Ugh!”
He stumbles backwards, and to Yelan’s horror, two more shots reverberate through the air and Feofan falls backwards. A breath clogs in Yelan’s throat, and in one swift motion, she unclips a smokebomb, throws it, then shoots the man at the staircase dead with her left hand. Smoke quickly fills the air as does a loud hissing noise, but when Yelan turns back, the assassin is gone— and so is her partner.
“Feofan? Feofan…!”
✧
The operation was a far cry from going smoothly. The music had long been over, replaced by worried clamoring as crowds are ushered towards the exits. There’s a killer on the loose, and her partner is potentially injured somewhere, with little-to-no traces of either of them. The lights were fully turned back on, and Yelan is forced to crouch so she isn’t seen.
She’s a little too disoriented to operate as an intelligence agent at the moment, and she doesn’t know if it was because she had the wind knocked out of her moments ago, or if it was because of the fact that the Regrator had saved her life.
Pushing those thoughts aside, she crouches along the railing, heading down the other end of the hall and watching for any motion, sound, or traces of anybody.
Yelan turns the next corner carefully, and spots something that somewhat resembles a bloodstain on the side of the wall. Yelan peers over, and realizes that there’s more in the same direction. That blood could either belong to Feofan, or the assassin. On alert, Yelan makes sure the entire hallway is safe before proceeding, heartbeat pounding when she makes her way to the door.
This could be a trap, her mind supplies. Remember, there’s somebody out there waiting with a rifle. U pushes the door open soundlessly, before swiftly swinging out and aiming her gun.
There’s nobody there.
Skeptical, Yelan closes the door behind her, then slowly walks inside what appears to be a dimly lit office room, set up similar to the one Ningguang was in. She spots another bloodstain on the floor next to the only desk in the room, and she wills her heels to make no sound as she circles the desk, pistol poised and ready to shoot.
She notices the smallest instance of a shoulderblade sticking out, and on instinct, Yelan swings wide, gun pointed straight at the target.
“…Here to finish me off, aren’t you?”
Yelan almost freezes when she recognizes the figure. The man makes no instance to move, eyes tracing the nozzle of the gun languidly before they meet Yelan’s eyes.
“Feofan?”
The raven-haired man lays crumpled with his back slumped against the desk, tie crooked and hair disheveled. His glasses are fogged up, and he’s breathing heavily. There’s a bullet wound in his shoulder, one in his chest, and another in the opposite leg’s thigh. His other arm makes little effort covering up the shoulder wound, and he looks tired.
And yet, he finds the audacity to grin through bloodied teeth, eyeing the gun pointed directly at him.
“…So?”
Yelan lowers her gun after realizing she was pointing it straight at him, and Feofan relaxes a little in relief. She bends down, rummaging through her pouch for any medical supplies, before realizing that the doors were unlocked and turning back to tie the doors together with her rope, then quickly returning to his side.
In normal scenarios, Yelan would absolutely take this opportunity to Feofan him up and ship him off to the Liyue interrogation centres. However this time, she feels a little indebted to him.
“Where are you injured?”
“Arm and leg. My vest thankfully stopped one of the bullets, but the intercom chestpiece was shattered.”
So much for wearing a bulletproof vest, she thinks grimly. Yelan rummages deeper in her pouch, searching for some actual medical supplies. She frowns. The only thing she has is gauze. Feofan seems to notice this too,
“It’ll manage. I honestly wasn’t expecting you to treat me at all, with your temperament,” he says, finishing off the sentence in a mild tone.
She shoots a glare at the man for his audacity. “Another comment, and we could turn your expectations into reality. Now, show me your shoulder wound.”
Feofan unbuttons and takes off his suit with a loud wince, revealing that his chestpiece was effectively shattered. When he has trouble unbuttoning his collared shirt, Yelan helps him and loosens his tie, stretching the shirt collar below his bicep to reveal the injury.
The wound itself looks deep, and Yelan curses under her breath. There’s not much they can do, so she grabs a thick pad of gauze, and presses it on the wound hard, much to Feofan’s unpleasant surprise, and then wraps it tightly around his arm.
“Ngh— a little warning would have been nice,” he sucks in a shuddering breath.
“Well, we don’t exactly have a nurses here, do we? Press your other hand on it and keep applying pressure,” she replies cordially, much to his complaint.
While he presses his other hand against it, Yelan pauses when she sees his thigh wound. The Regrator knows better to jibe at the current moment but still raises an eyebrow in a playful lilt, and Yelan glares daggers at him.
“Keep them on,” she says, feeling her ears get a little hot. She ignores the way that she could practically hear him smirking. She stacks two pads of gauze on one another then presses them over his dress pants, then winds them around tightly like she did for his arm, praying it’s enough pressure to sustain his injury.
“Let me call for back-up, don’t try anything funny,” she stands up, and informs Ningguang of their situation through her earpiece.
“I didn’t think I was in the proper state to, anyways,” he mutters, shrugging an arm.
“Where’s your gun?” Yelan inquires, turning back around.
“I dropped it,” Feofan replies, shrugging his good arm. After some careful inspection, Yelan senses that he’s telling the truth. She supposes that he’s really dropped all the tricks he would normally pull. It’s a little strange, however, to see him so truthful. For a moment, Yelan wonders had they not been enemies, would they have made good partners—
All of the sudden, she hears slow footsteps echoing outside and a gun click, and instantly shushes Feofan. “I wasn’t even speaking,” he mouths in protest. Ignoring his words, Yelan picks up her gun and soundlessly rushes over the door, peeking at who is beyond it. It doesn’t take more than his bowler hat to confirm who it was. The man is outside.
She turns back towards the room, pacing as a new thought slips into her mind. This could be the perfect chance to ambush the assassin, and all of this could be over with. But what of Feofan if I just leave him here? Would he be alright on his own?
Stuck between two difficult choices, Yelan realizes that her time was ticking when she hears the man’s footsteps begin to subside. She makes up her mind. With one last sparing glance at the Regrator, she hesitantly gets up, gun ready in her hands—
“Wait, don't go—”
A gloved hand snags her wrist. Yelan turns back with raised eyebrows, a wave of concern washing over her from how unlike him his voice sounded. He winces at the sudden movement, brows furrowed in exertion.
For a split-second, she could have sworn something vulnerable flashed in his eyes before he stabilizes his voice and clears his throat. “I mean, we should just let the Fatui and Qixing deal with him,” he says, voice sounding much more like the Regrator she knows. Yet, she somehow feels that behind his words are a plead, Don’t leave me by myself.
And getting a better look at Feofan, she finally sees how rapidly his condition is worsening. His breath was beginning to have a twinge of a wheeze to it, and his skin had become clammy in the time passed. Somewhere deep within Yelan, seeing him in this condition was beginning to have an effect on her. She kneels back down and he drops her wrist.
"Fine, just stop trying to move," she says, feeling a little worried for him.
✧
“—Yes, bring the medics urgently, he’s losing a lot blood.”
The intercom clicks when Yelan finishes sending another message to Ningguang. She turns back around to Feofan, arms crossed. They’ve been stuck in this office-room for around five minutes with each other in silence, and Yelan is surprised he’s still awake. He’s been in the same exact position since she instructed him not to move.
How did I manage to get stuck with him?
Yelan glances at her family heirloom as it slips down to his hand. In usual circumstances, she would debate on ripping it straight off of his wrist, but this time, she’s feeling a little anxious about him. Feofan’s voice breaks the silence.
“…I’m surprised you still haven’t used that gun on me,” his voice sounds surprisingly even, despite the amount of effort it must be taking to speak. Although he sits crumpled on the floor, he somehow still has the energy to banter.
“Glad you see you still have some jibe in you.”
“Why haven’t you?” his voice comes off as if it was a genuine surprise that Yelan spared his life.
“For starters, I’m not sure how it is for your criminal organization, but the Liyue Qixing tends to be more merciful,” she replies.
“Hmmm,” he muses, seemingly lost at the thought of not killing someone.
She eyes at him disdainfully. “What, does the Fatui view human lives as something that is disposable or something?”
“If they are no longer of value, yes,” he admits.
Yelan raises an eyebrow. Unbelievable. She knew that the Fatui were the ones who planned a hit on Uncle Tian, but she never realized how cruel of an organization they truly were. It suddenly occurs to Yelan that, if their positions were swapped, would he have used his gun on Yelan?
“…But I would’ve spared your life too,” he says, seemingly reading her thoughts.
Yelan scoffs, “And why is that? Aren’t I the biggest hindrance to your plans?”
He lets out a short laugh, which quickly dissolves into a wince. “No, no. I enjoy our game of cat and mouse,” Feofan manages with a smile. Yelan glances at him. Her eyes trace around him and notices a healed scar in the shape of a bullet wound underneath his current injury, along with some other healed scratches. For somebody who handles operations behind-the-scenes, he sure does get hurt a lot.
“Not the first time this has happened?” She gestures to his bullet-wound scar, curiosity getting the better of her.
Unexpectedly, his smile falters for a moment, and something darkens in his eyes.
“It’s from a long time ago,” he says mildly, yet he adverts his gaze. “From before I joined the Fatui.”
When he turns to see Yelan looking at him expectantly, he adds, with his signature close-eyed smile, “But that needn’t be something we delve into right now—“ he cuts himself off with a sharp bloodied cough, gloved palm pressed to his mouth.
Yelan crosses over to his side in a beat, rubbing his back to support him. After what seems like forever, he looks exhausted once he’s finished coughing, lavender eyes glazed over in tiredness as he wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his glove.
“You should save your energy for later,” she advises, and he nods his head in agreement.
A few moments pass, with Yelan keeping watch and Feofan pressing his bandages. The only sound in the room is his shallow breathing, as coupled with the continued clamoring outside. A question bubbles on Yelan’s lips, one that she’s been dying to ask, but she doesn’t know if he would have the energy to respond. She asks anyways.
“Why did you do that, Feofan?”
He tiredly raises his head in question.
“Why did you jump in front of me, I mean?” she asks again. It makes sense that they would spare each other’s lives, but to save them… It makes no sense, before this, we hated each other.
A moment passes before he speaks. “How was I supposed to know? My body moved on it’s own, it’s not as if I… I thought that the bulletproof vest…” his voice was beginning to slur from the bloodloss.
Another wave of worry washes through Yelan. He’s becoming incredibly weak at an alarming rate, and his head seems like it’s about to fall right off. He looks like he’s fighting to stay awake, as he tiredly lifts his head once more, eyes flickering in and out of consciousness.
“…Could I ask you something?”
“Save it, use your energy for later.”
“…Ha, so you can ask me questions… but I can’t…” is what he mutters before he becomes incomprehensible, voice fading away and head drooping.
Yelan turns back around, only to be greeted by his slumped body. “Feofan?” She rushes over to his side to inspect his heartbeat. It’s still there, but it’s getting fainter by the minute. Yelan tries hard to keep herself from going into a panic. “Feofan, wake up, the Qixing are almost here, stay with me now,” she applies pressure on his wounds as she attempts to hold him upright, and he groans weakly, eyes closing.
Just in the knick of time, she hears a female voice outside, and rapid knocking on the door. Feofan’s eyes open just a crack, and Yelan rushes over to untie the doors, which burst wide open. Flashlights immediately blind Yelan.
“Yelan! Are you safe? Are you injured?” hands fly around her as her allies swarm into the office.
“No, I’m not injured anywhere, but…”
“He’s in here! Go, go!”
Yelan whips around to see two men lifting up Feofan with a jostle, both barely supporting him. She stands up when he barely lifts his head and takes one last look at her with pained eyes before they usher him around the corner. Yelan narrows her eyes in confusion, not relief, because the paramedics looked anything but hospitable.
“Where are they taking him?” she asks the girl beside her, as the rest of the officers investigate the crime scene.
“Interrogation. They’ll treat him first of course, but then he’ll be taken in for some questioning. It’s not often that we get this chance, so good work, Yelan,” she pats her on her shoulder.
Interrogation? Yelan is taken aback for a moment. All of the sudden, Yelan is reminded of the fact that he is the Regrator, and that she was the intelligence agent who’d sworn herself against him. And yet, for some reason, a twinge in her heart that she had not known was there worried for his safety. What are they going to do to him there? Is he going to be okay? He saved my life today, and I’ve just tried to save his in return. So then, does that really make us the enemies we thought we were…?
✧
Around a month has passed since the operation, and Yelan had finally found it in her schedule to meet up with Ningguang. It was the perfect afternoon to be out sipping tea— warm and breezy, but Ningguang thought that Yelan couldn’t look any more distracted.
“Yelan, why do you look so displeased on this fine afternoon? Are you still thinking about your last big operation?” Ningguang asked, slowly stirring her tea.
Yelan stares out to sea, holding her cup unmovingly, lost in thought as the steam begins to subside. Ningguang takes her silence as a prompt yes.
“Don’t fret over it, your execution was excellent; the officers were able to intercept Rex Lapis’ assassin as well as stabilize his target. As per contract, The assassin been sent to Snezhnaya for further imprisonment.” When Ningguang is met with a wall of silence, she continues, “And furthermore, we were able to take in the Regrator for further questioning, so it was excellent of you to help us kill two birds with one stone.”
At the mention of the Regrator, Yelan furrows her brows.
Ningguang sighs, “Ah, Yelan, always fretting over that man, aren’t you? He did confess that the Fatui planned to enlist the assassin under their own rankings, but as for his own rare and prolonged stay in Liyue, he’s still managed to dodge that question.”
“And what of his condition?” Yelan finally speaks.
Ningguang chuckles. “So that’s what you’re worried about,” the other woman muses. “Don’t worry, our subordinates know of his status amongst their rankings. We wouldn’t dare lay a finger on the Regrator.”
Ningguang suddenly leans forward, curious. “But you know, your outlook on that man has changed quite a lot since that night. Indulge me. What truly happened that night?”
Yelan finally sets her tea down, and when she opens her mouth to speak, she’s unsure of whether she should tell her the truth or not. That somehow, the man she’s told Ningguang she has been chasing all these years managed to save her life.
✧
Another week passes, and Yelan was taking a stroll down Liyue Harbor, enjoying the calm, warm weather. The sky was cloudless and a stunning blue, while seagulls crooned around the pier and children chattered by.
It seems like someone else was enjoying the Liyue weather too, and he looks much better than the last time she’s seen him. He’s walking with a cane and an egregiously large coat, which partially covers a bandaged arm. There is a slight limp in his leg, which was also bandaged over his clothes, but other than that, he appears to be healthy.
Upon seeing her, Feofan waves away his bodyguards. He settles upon his cane and gives Yelan a smile. Her heart stills a little with relief.
”You look better,” Yelan says simply, eyeing him up and down.
“Right, I look lavishing, don’t I?”
She scoffs, waving away an arm at him, “Don’t kid yourself, Fatui.”
“Now, now. Everything I’ve done in the past was merely a part of me doing my job,” he smiles his signature close-eyed smile, bantering like usual as if that night never happened. She narrows her eyes.
If he wants to play it that way, then fine.
“Were you doing your job when you infiltrated the Qixing multiple times?” she crosses her arms.
“And were you doing yours when you decided to steal the Tsaritsa’s fur coat?” he jibes back.
“Well, that was because you took my bracelet.”
“And that was because you went out of your way to intercept the Fatui.”
“I saved your life,”
“And I saved yours.”
There it was. They looked at eachother in the eyes, and for the first time, saw something kindling other than mutual hatred and annoyance. Yelan thought for a moment, to think of a retort. When nothing comes up, she makes a sudden revelation.
“…We’re even, aren’t we?”
He seems to realize this too, eyebrows slightly raising in the fact that their little game must be over. But yet he smiles, and offers his hand out to shake.
“Even?”
She hesitates, her hand hovering in front of his. If I shake his hand, it’ll really all be over, she recognizes. And something about that just feels wrong. He looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to make a move.
And so in a single motion, Yelan eyes an expensive-looking necklace and snatches it straight off of his neck.
“Even,” she says laughingly, dangling the necklace in front of him.
Feofan lets out a short laugh. “Stealing from an injured man? How unbelievably modest of you.”
“It’s just that something about the scales being balanced feels off,” she shrugs.
Despite being stolen from just moments ago, he seems to agree because he takes a step closer to Yelan. “And so our game continues,” he murmurs, and she grins.
✧