Archive of Our Own

It was always fun to get hired by someone needing a task done by a Wu, who had previously contacted a Wu but that Wu screwed it up, so now Niran had to fix it. And by ‘fun,’ Niran meant ‘exceptionally annoying.’

How hard was it to clear the negative energy from a building? Sure, a few workers had died in the building process, but still. Niran didn’t even really have to do a ritual. He instructed the company responsible for the deaths to pay reparations to the victim’s families and issue a public apology and the yao more or less left on its own, with a nudge from Niran. Knowing the teachings of the Wu school in the area, the Wu they had contacted before probably had not even considered finding the cause of the resentful energy and had simply sealed it away, which only allowed for more yao to appear in its place.

“Thank you for your help, Master Niran,” the building owner said with a wai and a deep bow.

Niran never liked the title or the bowing. He was far from a master Wu, and the bowing made him feel like a monk or a king or something—of which he was neither.

He had barely shut the door to the car—tossing the check for the latest job into the passenger seat—when every nerve in his body screamed. Niran’s hands slammed into whatever part of the car was closest, his feet smashing into the floor of the driver’s seat, his mouth falling open with a silent yell. His ears echoed with a shout no one heard, and it sounded like his name.

“Pete,” Niran gasped, barely a sound.

All at once, his muscles relaxed, and Niran sank in his seat like a pile of useless meat. It was as if he’d been tazed for an hour, but the dashboard clock said less than a minute had passed. While he still felt like overcooked noodles, Niran was able to focus on his left wrist, to call upon the soul bond that connected him to the man he loved—to Pete.

The golden thread materialized, but instead of a strong glow leading into the south, Niran was faced with something weakened and wobbling unsteadily into the distance.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Something had happened to Pete.

Niran had his phone out in less than five seconds, exhausted muscles be damned, and hit redial. The phone rang out, rang out, rang out, rang out, rang out—

“The number you have dialed is not currently available. Please—”

Niran hung up. Called back. Got Pete’s voicemail again. Again. Again.

“Dammit, Pete,” Niran cursed, then changed course.

Eyes still on the golden thread, Niran called Ploy. It wavered like a drunkard but didn’t fade, so Pete was still alive. Whatever had happened, Pete was still alive.

“Hello, Phi,” Ploy greeted.

She sounded normal, like it was an average day. Already knowing the answer, Niran asked, “Ploy, do you know where Pete is?”

Ploy hummed. “He said he was going to check on the shop today before his classes showed up.”

Niran pressed a hand to his forehead, the golden thread now mere inches from his eyes, and tried to breathe. “Something’s wrong,” he managed, though it felt like there was a vice around his throat. “He’s not—He’s not answering his phone. I’m coming back now. Can you go by the shop, the dojo, anywhere he might be?”

“Oh, sure,” Ploy said, and Niran heard her setting something aside. He was glad she understood he was serious, that she didn’t just brush off his concerns. “But, Phi, you’re in Sukhothai?”

Niran shook his head and pinned the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could shove the keys in the ignition. “I’ll get there as soon as I can. Just—”

It was over six hours to Bangkok. In six hours, anything could happen. In six hours, Pete could be—

“I’ll call you once I know something,” Ploy assured him. “Drive safe, okay? The last thing you need is to get into an accident.”

He made no promises.

…

…

By the time Niran made it back to Bangkok, Ploy had called to tell him that Pete didn’t make it to his judo classes. Luckily, Pete was so well liked by his students and their parents that they hadn’t been angry—only concerned. She’d put a sign on the door for his later classes, apologizing for the inconvenience. And the entire time, Pete hadn’t shown up, nor had he answered her calls.

He hadn’t answered Niran’s either.

Ploy had enlisted the help of Yok, Jack, Thua, and Tao. They called hospitals and police stations to see if there had been any accidents or attacks involving someone of Pete’s description. Nothing. They canvassed the area between the house, the shop, and the dojo but, other than a stray cat, a very territorial dog, and a lot of confused neighbors, had come up empty handed.

No one had seen Pete. Or what happened to Pete. No one knew where he was.

Once back in the city, Niran didn’t drive to the house. He held his wrist up to the dying light and did his best to follow the golden thread down streets and around corners, getting closer and closer to his soul bonded.

Just as the shop came into view, the sky opened up and it began to rain. Nothing torrential, but enough to make it hard to see in the distance and falling night. Niran sighed. Of course.

According to the soul bond, Pete was close by. Niran could feel it as keenly as if his soul and Pete’s were matching magnets. So Niran parked at the shop and prepared to continue on foot.

‘The shop’ was a free-standing building made of teak wood and built in a traditional style—because Pete and the boys claimed it ‘made Niran look more legit’—but with modern amenities. It stuck out more because of the tall, concrete and glass buildings on either side, and because there was a decent amount of green space separating it from its closest neighbors. It had cost a small fortune to build, but it made Pete smile every time he saw it and made Niran think of his grandfather’s house, and it wasn’t like Niran was hurting for money.

Grabbing a torch and small umbrella from the glove compartment, Niran stepped out of the car. The umbrella protected his upper body, but it wouldn’t be long before his legs were drenched. Niran clicked his teeth and held up the light. There was no yao energy surrounding the building or hiding in the bushes and trees around it. Whatever had happened here wasn’t the work of yao or demons.

His first thought was to check the doors for signs of a break-in, but Ploy would’ve noticed that already and, besides, the soul bond was directing him around the side of the building instead.

“Pete?” Niran called as he walked, flashlight shining back and forth in front of him.

The others had already checked around the building for Pete and hadn’t found him, but the bond was so strong that Pete had to be there. He had to be. There was no body in the grass, nor sticking out from behind a plant, nor up in the branches of the trees. It felt like Niran was right on top of him, so where—

“Huh?”

Niran glanced down to see what his foot was caught on. Or, rather, what was caught on his foot, since it was a cat with its claws in his shoe. Its coat was dark in the rain, but in the light of the torch Niran guessed maybe it was usually brown, with golden yellow eyes shining the way only animal eyes did in light.

“A…suphalak?” Niran guessed.

Those weren’t common, least of all loose on the streets. As one of the five traditional Thai cat breeds, recognized by the government even, suphalaks could fetch a high price. Maybe he was wrong, though. It was raining and dark, after all.

They were a symbol of good fortune, and usually Niran would care, but right now he needed to focus on finding Pete.

“Please let go,” Niran said, even as he knelt down and reached for the cat’s paws to pull the claws out of his shoe.

Before he could land a finger on the cat, it jolted backward, pulling its claws back and fleeing to the edge of Niran’s light. It looked at him, glanced into the dark, stepped jerkily closer to Niran, then bounced back to the edge of the light. Like…a dog trying to lead someone somewhere.

With a sigh, Niran nodded. He didn’t need more of a sign than that. “Okay. Lead me.”

The suphalak cat darted away, but when Niran followed it with the light he found it had only gone a short distance and was very obviously waiting for him. Niran stood and followed. Strangely, following the cat and following the pull of the soul bond felt the same.

The cat led him to the back of the building, to the steps leading to the back door. There was a space under the stairs where rain had not yet soaked the ground. The cat darted into the space while Niran stopped next to it. There was no way Pete was under the steps. There was barely enough space for the cat. And yet…

Niran knelt down again just as the cat returned from under the stairs, a very familiar necklace held in its teeth. The string had snapped but the jade pendant was intact. Heart in his throat, Niran reached for the necklace. This time, the cat held perfectly still.

As soon as his fingers made contact, the necklace glowed green, the way it only ever did around Pete. Niran’s heart called out and the soul bond flickered to life again, twining around Niran’s left wrist and then floating—still a bit wobbly, but much more sure than before—to tangle around the cat before encircling its right paw.

The cat followed the trail of light as it moved and, once the trail had ended at its paw, the cat dropped the necklace and let out a feeble mewl that almost—somehow—sounded like “Niran!”

For his part, Niran had forgotten how to breathe. A soul bond couldn’t be faked or tampered with or confused. The jade had only ever reacted to Pete’s well-being. This cat…somehow…was Pete.

“Pete?”

Mewling again, the cat lifted its front paws to lay them on Niran’s forearm and looked up at him with the most pathetic expression Niran had ever seen on a cat. The soul bond felt warm and right in a way it only did when he and Pete touched each other. This was, without a doubt, his Pete.

Niran snatched the cat up with as much care as he could and held it to his chest, not caring that it meant he dropped the umbrella and torch. It didn’t even try to fight—of course it didn’t, it was Pete—and instead tried to push in closer. Even with the rain weighing him down, Niran felt lighter than he had in hours.

“Pete.”

In his arms, Pete started to purr.

…

…

“What do you mean ‘Pete’s a cat’?” Fei asked, baffled.

Niran heaved a sigh. “I mean Pete’s a cat. Someone transformed him into an animal.”

Inside the shop, there were several rooms. One was where Niran met potential clients. One held ritual supplies, past client information, and reference materials. One had a kitchenette, a small table set, and a couch, and that’s where Niran had taken up residence. There were hand towels he was able to use to mostly dry himself and Pete off with, chairs he could hang his wet clothes on to dry, and a big blanket Tao had insisted on buying to ‘congratulate you on reopening!’ after the building was completed.

Niran’s phone sat on the arm of the couch on speakerphone while Niran sat cozily under the blanket. There had been a spare pair of sweatpants in the office room—Pete’s ‘just in case’ pair—but no shirt or underwear, so the blanket was greatly appreciated. Though he couldn’t see Pete, Niran could feel his furry body pressed along his leg, greedy for warmth and comfort. One of Niran’s hands kept up a steady petting that made Pete purr more, bringing them both relief Niran could feel echoing through their soul bond.

“How the heck did that happen?” Fei asked.

The laptop on the far couch cushion held the answer, the shop’s security camera footage of a man in his mid-twenties grabbing and shaking Pete, paused at the exact moment the jade necklace snapped free. In the next frame, Pete would start contorting, shaking, and shrinking until his body had become that of a cat.

The attack happened in broad daylight, so of course no one had thought to check the security footage before.

“Someone came by the shop while Pete was here today. It looks like they got agitated pretty quickly and grabbed him. And then Pete, well, transformed,” Niran explained as dryly as he was able.

It looked unpleasant, and Niran remembered how his own body had reacted in kind, so he’d backed the footage up so he didn’t have to see it.

Under the blanket, Pete pushed his head into the outside of Niran’s thigh, and Niran just knew he was trying to offer support to calm Niran’s racing heart.

“Jiejie, what do you know about animal transformations?”

Through the phone, Fei hummed but didn’t speak. Was she looking something up or merely thinking? Niran had read lots of stories about people dreaming they were an animal and what that symbolized based on the animal and dream events, but this wasn’t a dream. No one was astral projecting into an animal body, either.

“I remember some of the masters talking about it once,” Fei began at length, and it sounded like she was thinking of something long ago. “Of family blood lines similar to that of the Wu. Not descended from Pangu or being able to communicate with his creations, but…other gifts that were not of him. One they mentioned did include the ability to transform one living thing into another.”

“Can you get me all the information about that family?” Niran asked. “Or, if I send you a picture, can you use your contacts to learn who the person is?”

A positive hum. “I can try.”

It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was somewhere to start. Niran settled back into the couch cushion with a sigh.

“Thank you.”

There was quiet for a moment—long enough that Niran wondered if Fei had hung up without saying goodbye—and then, “How is he?”

Niran ran his hands down the length of Pete’s back and the cat arched into it so smoothly it must’ve been reflex, then settled back down. Closing his eyes, Niran felt for their connection, thought about all he’d felt that day.

“Scared,” Niran said like an admission of guilt. “But okay. And damp. We both got caught in the rain.”

It was Fei’s turn to sigh. “Understandable.” Then, in her usual no-nonsense tone, “Don’t catch a cold. I can get you all the information, but you can’t do anything with it if you’re stuck in bed.”

“Uh,” Niran said with a nod she couldn’t see. “I won’t get sick. Thank you, Jiejie.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, then hung up.

Niran pulled his arms from the blanket—shivering when the air met his still damp skin—and reached for the laptop. It also uncovered half of Pete’s head. Pete mewled in displeasure and pawed at the blanket until it fully covered him again. With a fond shake of his head, Niran balanced the laptop on the leg farther from the cat and set about taking a screenshot of the perpetrator and sending it to Fei. Then he watched the footage again.

There was the guy, knocking incessantly on the door of the shop despite the sign stating they were closed for a few days. Short black hair, big eyes, Chinese descent, shorter than Pete by a good few inches. Based on his build, Pete could have taken the guy in a physical fight. He kept knocking until Pete must have called out to him, then turned and watched as Pete entered the screen.

Pete wore a pleasant expression, like he did when dealing with stressed clients. He tapped the sign, explaining that Niran was out of town and would be back the next day, probably. The guy’s hands wouldn’t stop moving, like he had too much adrenaline in his system to stand still. Pete was saying something, motioning vaguely to the side, when the guy suddenly grabbed Pete by the shoulders and started yelling, shaking Pete like that would get his point across faster.

Pete reached up, taking the guy gently but firmly by the wrists, and made to pull him off. The guy’s hand latched onto Pete’s necklace and tugged hard. The string snapped. Pete’s face screwed up, not with pain but discomfort, and then his mouth dropped open as the transformation began.

Niran stopped the video before he had to watch Pete in pain again. He knew from his first watch through that the guy panicked and ran off after Pete transformed, leaving the cat and the necklace on the porch in his wake.

Whatever the guy did to Pete only took effect after the necklace broke, so it was something the jade had been able to protect him from. And despite the fact that the guy had ripped the necklace’s cord, Niran didn’t think the magic had happened on purpose. The man had looked startled when it happened. The whole altercation gave the impression that, perhaps, the mystery man hadn’t intended to change Pete at all.

That was worse than doing it on purpose, though. Someone who couldn’t control their power was more dangerous than someone with nefarious plans. Niran would have to do something about their rampant magic before fixing Pete or else risk it happening all over again. And what about anyone else the guy had come into contact with? How many animals were running around the city that were actually people?

Whatever the situation, Niran would handle it.

He spent time looking for any information about people going missing in the last few days that might be linked to animal-transformation-man. While there were a few reported cases of missing persons, none of them were anywhere near the shop and, from what Niran could find, there didn’t seem to be anything supernatural about them.

By the time he’d exhausted his own research abilities, Fei had sent him a file of information she had on people with transformation gifts, so Niran opened that and began reading. He read it and read it and even reread it just in case, all the way up until he fell asleep.

…

…

When Niran woke up the next morning, Pete was no longer under the blanket with him. The soul bond told Niran he was still close by, and Niran didn’t think a cat could open a door, so he was reasonably sure Pete was still in the shop and didn’t worry.

Thankfully, his clothes were finally dry. He had barely finished getting dressed when Pete darted into the room like a homing missile, barreling ahead before stopping abruptly a few scant inches from Niran’s feet. Dry, it was obvious that yes, he was a suphalak. Copper brown fur, wedge-shaped face, brown whiskers, golden yellow eyes, straight ears, muscular build, and just about a foot long. Well, if the errant magic user had to pick a cat breed, at least it was a highly regarded one.

“Morning,” Niran greeted. “Feeling better?”

Pete meowed, darted around Niran’s legs three times, then ran to the door. Like the day before, he paused and looked back, clearly wanting Niran to follow him. Though he put on a show of giving a beleaguered sigh, Niran followed. This time, Pete led Niran to the bathroom, where he proudly showed Niran…

“Did you use the toilet?”

With a proud meow, Pete jumped up on the toilet seat to mimic how he’d held himself over the toilet to use it. The problem came when Pete tried to flush. They’d gone with a button option instead of a lever and Pete couldn’t press it. Now that Niran was there, Pete nosed at the button until Niran got the idea and flushed for him. Then he gave a pleased trill and hopped down.

Well, at least that meant Niran didn’t need to go buy a litter box and all that kind of stuff. Pete was fully house-trained.

There were a few snacks in the mini fridge in the kitchenette, but not a full meal, and nothing a cat could eat. Actually, what could a cat eat? The last thing Niran needed was to accidentally poison his soulmate while trying to save him.

The internet suggested canned wet food as the best option. If Pete were a cat long term, Niran might consider buying canned cat food, but he planned to have Pete back in his human body within a few days at most. If he was going to feed Pete normal human food…Cooked, unseasoned meat. Cooked fish. Eggs. No dairy. No bones. No chocolate or alliums.

Well, Niran didn’t know where he could order unseasoned meat with Grab, so a trip to the store was in order. Once he and Pete had eaten, Niran could focus on more research. He’d spend his time waiting for Fei’s call trying to learn how to undo the spell on his own, without the caster’s help.

Niran gathered his things. “I’m heading to the store. I’ll be back later.”

He’d barely made it two steps before Pete had his claws in Niran’s shoe again, laying on his side and staring up at Niran with wide eyes, ears laid back. Sighing, Niran reached down and peeled Pete loose.

“It’s only for a little while. I’ll come back,” he assured the man-turned-cat.

But when he tried to leave again, Pete went a step further. This time, he used his claws to climb up Niran’s pant leg—ow!—up his back—double ow!—and latched onto Niran’s shoulder like a parrot.

“What the hell, Pete?” Niran complained. He couldn’t even bend down to check if Pete drew blood because the damn cat was only precariously perched and like hell Niran needed more claws in him if Pete started to fall.

Tail flicking wickedly, Pete let out a long, mournful whine, his ears low and sideways. Niran didn’t know cat body language, but the sound, plus the feeling pulsing through their bond, was clear to him. Pete didn’t want to be left behind.

Niran sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. How was this going to work? He couldn’t carry Pete around in his arms long term, and the shoulder thing was liable to leave him with cuts he didn’t want to deal with. Niran could just let Pete walk, but what about in the store?

He glanced at his tote bag. There was certainly space for a seven-ish pound cat in there, but would it be uncomfortable, sitting amongst Niran’s various ritual supplies?

In the end, he dumped most of the supplies out on the kitchenette table. He wouldn’t need them before coming back there anyway. After, Pete jumped into the bag with a please trill and started purring so loudly that Niran had to remind him, “If you’re that loud in the store, they’ll kick me out.” But, finally, Niran was able to leave the shop for food.

…

…

It was closer to lunch by the time Niran had driven to the store, bought food, driven back to their house to have access to an actual kitchen, and finished cooking some plain, seasonless chicken—triple checked for doneness—cut it up, and presented it to Pete on the floor. Seasoned or not, Pete attacked it with gusto, and Niran realized he probably hadn’t eaten since breakfast the day before.

Neither had Niran, for that matter. But he’d been so worried about Pete that food and drink had been low on his priority list. It still was, actually, so instead of putting any effort into making a proper meal for himself, Niran made a cup of instant noodles. While they were cooking, he retrieved his secondary laptop from the house office and set it up on the kitchen table.

He brought up the files Fei had sent about transformation magic again.

Like how Wu were believed to be descended from the god of creation, people with this ability were thought to be descended from a deity. With that came similar caveats. If they did not use their ability for righteous reasons, if they used it for greed, violence, or personal gain, Heaven would take action against them to restore balance.

While the information did not directly state that their magic could be reversed, it did say that balance could be restored by a Wu before things got dire or Heaven intervened. That had to mean Niran could change Pete back on his own—or with help from others. The problem lay with the fact that, to fix a problem caused by this family, Niran would need something of theirs—a hair, nail clipping, blood, sweat, a tooth, something.

Which meant he still needed Fei to help him find the guy before Pete would be human again. Damn.

Niran’s phone began to ring just as Pete jumped up on the table to sit at the edge of Niran’s computer. Ploy was calling.

“Ploy,” Niran greeted.

“Did you find P’Pete?” she asked immediately. She wasn’t full on panicking, but it was clear that not finding her brother yesterday and not hearing from Niran yet had her anxious.

Niran met Pete’s eyes. “Um. Yes. I found him.”

“Is he okay?” she rushed to ask.

Pete started cleaning his paws, his pink tongue darting around clawed toes and light brown paw pads. After a moment, he seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly put his paw down, looking as scandalized as Niran had ever seen a cat look. It would be funny if the situation wasn’t so serious.

“He’s…fine,” Niran finally settled on.

“That was a really delayed response,” Ploy pointed out, frown evident in her tone. “What happened to my brother?”

Ploy knew about the Wu, the Qi Rong situation, and had spent over four years living in a house with Niran while he worked on various spiritual cases for clients. Pete had even sat her down one day the year prior to explain the Six Eared Macaque. But Niran still hesitated to tell her that animal transformation was possible. He himself was finding it hard to reconcile and it was right in front of him.

“Someone did a ritual,” Niran started. “He can’t talk right now, but we’re working on fixing it.”

Pete narrowed his eyes at Niran, one ear flicking to the side, then forward again. If he were a human, Niran might think Pete was mad at him, but Pete was also purring softly, so Niran had no idea. He hadn’t pet Pete or said anything nice, so what was Pete purring about now?

“He can’t speak?! Is he hurt?!”

Niran pulled the phone away from his ear and Pete’s ears flicked down to the sides at her tone.

“He’s not hurt,” Niran said, glad he could be completely truthful in that, at least. “We just ate lunch together.”

On the other end of the line, Niran could hear Ploy calming herself down with a breathing technique Pete had taught her—that he learned from Niran. After a few moments, she said, “I trust you. Especially when it comes to my brother.”

Cheeks feeling hot, Niran hummed. “I’m already working on reversing what was done to him,” he said, avoiding looking at Pete as the cat leaned closer to him curiously. “He’ll be okay, Ploy. I promise.”

She sighed. “Okay. Let me know if I can help.”

“I will.”

Niran hung up and set the phone back on the table. Once his arm was close enough, Pete reached over to put a paw on him, then looked up at Niran and blinked slowly. Was that a ‘thank you’?

“What? I couldn’t have her running out of work. There’s nothing for her to do here to help you.” With a small scowl, Niran faced his laptop again. “I can’t even do anything to help you yet.”

Pete set his furry chin on Niran’s arm, and when Niran glanced at him, he had to admit that it was an adorable image. And that Pete being cute did make him feel better. Well, he had to admit it in his head, at least. Out loud was a different story.

Rolling his eyes, Niran said, “Yes, yes. You’re adorable. Stop distracting me.”

…

…

It made sense that the mystery guy would return to the shop, since he had been so adamant about speaking to Niran the day before. The thought hit Niran over an hour after the phone call with Ploy. So he cooked the rest of the chicken, put it in a sealed container, put Pete and the container in his bag, grabbed the rest of the groceries he’d bought that didn’t require a stovetop or oven, and headed back to the shop.

Luckily, the security footage showed the guy had not come back in the time they were out.

Niran sent a text to the group chat of Jack, Thua, Tao, Yok, Tong, Jia Hao, and Fei that they had made back when they were planning the Qi Rong sealing. The message included the screenshot of the visitor he’d sent to Fei and, “If you see this man, tell me.”

As expected, Tao, Jack, and Thua immediately sent acceptance stickers, Yok said ‘okay,’ Tong asked who the man was, and neither Jia Hao nor Fei even answered, but it showed they’d seen it. Before Niran could answer, the boys started excitedly explaining that Pete had gone radio silent the day before and speculating that the guy was the reason why and what Niran wanted him for, so Niran set his phone aside. Let them figure it out while he studied the files from Fei again.

He would figure out what was needed to ‘restore balance’ after a misuse of transformation magic and get it all ready to go at a moment’s notice. Then he would look up a sealing ritual. If the man could not—or refused to—control himself, Niran would lock his powers away to protect the general public.

While Niran worked, Pete alternated between laying in a beam of sunlight coming in through the window, walking back and forth across Niran’s lap just to be a nuisance, curling up on the table near Niran’s hands and seemingly napping, and exploring the shop. He was never gone for too long, always coming back to check in with Niran for several minutes before leaving again. When Niran moved to a new room, Pete would weave around his feet to follow, whether it was to the office for supplies, the front room for set up, or even the bathroom—where Pete would wait outside the door like a guard until Niran was done. Once, Pete came and meowed, meowed, mrrrowled until Niran followed him to flush the toilet for the cat.

Around four in the afternoon, while Niran was trying semi-successfully to read a book now that the rituals were prepped, Fei called.

“His name is Oat Topiyabut,” she said instead of a greeting.

Niran sat up straighter in his seat and set the book aside. “Tell me more.”

“He graduated from Thammasat University last year with a Bachelors in Management of Cultural Heritage and Creative Industries. He’s employed with the National Museum Bangkok. Currently lives with his boyfriend in Phra Nakhon. He turned twenty-four two days ago.”

“Two cycles of the Chinese zodiac. A turning point,” Niran noted, tapping his fingers on the table absently.

Pete jumped up beside his hand and nudged at his fingers until Niran took up petting him instead.

“If I had to guess, he wasn’t aware of his family power before,” Niran continued, even as he watched Pete press into his fingers gleefully and felt his heart warm. “He must have come to the shop as soon as it manifested.” Niran’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head slightly in thought, though he didn’t stop petting. “Where’s his boyfriend?”

As if expecting the question, Fei answered immediately, “Chai Nimcharonepong hasn’t shown up for work in two days. Neither of them have, actually.” She sighed. “When I reached out to them, I was told he had taken medical leave.”

Niran nodded. If the men were together on Oat’s birthday, then Chai would’ve been the prime target of unleashed magical abilities. With any luck, resetting the balance would revert both him and Pete to their human forms.

“Text me their address,” Niran said. “If Khun Oat doesn’t return here soon, I’ll pay him a house call.”

Pete shook his head so fast and hard that his ears slapped against his head several times, then flopped loudly over on his side, his eyes practically shut and purring loudly. Niran smiled and took up petting his side instead. Pete stretched out to give him more room to work.

“Do you want help?” Fei asked.

Though she couldn’t see it, Niran shook his head. “I think I can handle Khun Oat. But I’ll need help for the ritual.” All of a sudden, Pete grabbed Niran’s hand and wrist with his paws, his claws pricking the skin. Niran hissed. “Pete.”

Pete immediately let go and scooted away, looking ashamed. With a sigh, Niran motioned for him to come back, which the cat hesitantly did. Once Pete was back in range, Niran took up petting him again.

“Text or call me when you’re ready for the ritual,” Fei said, sounding mildly amused. Niran narrowed his eyes. If she teased him— “I’ll leave you to your feline soulmate.”

He hung up. Pete looked up at him curiously and Niran shook his head.

“Do you want the rest of the chicken? We probably won’t have time later.”

With a loud meow, Pete jumped off the table and went to sit next to the mini fridge. Niran huffed a laugh.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Niran heated the chicken up just enough that it wasn’t cold from the fridge, then presented it to Pete. For himself, Niran microwaved a single-serving meal. As he ate, he watched Pete.

If he hadn’t seen Pete show human-level intelligence, that could be any other suphalak cat. There were no special markings or other physical features that indicated it wasn’t simply…a cat.

According to the information Fei had sent him, the transformative power was given to a family in case of disaster events. During a famine, any plant could be transformed into an edible crop. If all of the milk-making animals died in a flood, another animal—or plant—could be transformed into a milk-making animal in its stead. If there were only females of an animal and thus no way to breed more, a male could be made out of some other living thing. It was meant to only be used for the needs of the many, the society, not to change things at the whims of an individual.

What had Niran worried was the bit he’d read about the old living thing taking on the characteristics of its new form. Plants were immediately exactly what they appeared to be. Animals might act like their old form for a few days. There were no records of the transformation happening to a person. Pete’s spiritual energy was much higher than it used to be, and with the training he’d done over the past five years, his was also stronger than most humans. Plus, the soul bond had Niran’s energy coursing through him as well. There should be no danger to Pete’s humanity, and yet…

Pete abandoned the food to come rub against Niran’s shins, his tail curling around Niran’s calf. The soul bond glimmered between them and Niran let out a small huff.

Reaching down to pet along Pete’s back, Niran said, “Sorry. I’m just worried.”

Tail twitching, Pete reached out and smacked Niran with his paw—no claws. He made an irritated sounding meow, his ears briefly folding back, and smacked Niran again. Though he had no human voice to speak with, Niran was reminded of countless conversations they’d had over the years about how much faith and trust Pete had in Niran, how any situation could be overcome because if Niran was involved, what was there to be worried about?

With a small smile, Niran nodded. “You’re right. It will all work out.”

Pete’s tail went straight up and he let out a pleased sounding meow.

Niran checked the clock. Not even an hour had passed since his call with Fei. He needed to wait a little longer before he could justify storming the Oat/Chai house. Usually, Niran didn’t mind waiting. He had the most patience of anyone in their immediate friend group. But usually, Pete’s humanity wasn’t at risk.

With an impatient sigh, Niran folded his hands together on the table and leaned his chin on them. Something cold against his face made him pull back and look down. The jade ring. He never took it off, just like Pete never removed the necklace. Not in five years.

“Oh.”

Standing from the table, Niran fished around inside his pocket and came out with the jade pendant. The string was snapped, but the jade itself was perfectly intact. Niran knelt on the floor and waved a curious Pete closer. As soon as Pete was sitting in front of him, Niran reached out and tied the necklace around his neck like a simple collar. The excess cord hung oddly from the side.

“Just a minute. Wait here,” Niran said, then stood and moved toward the kitchenette.

He located a pair of scissors, then made to turn around—except Pete leapt onto the countertop beside him. Niran gave him an unimpressed look.

“I said wait.”

Pete shook his head, then put his paws together with a chirp. It was almost like he was saying ‘and I chose not to. What’s your point?’ Sighing fondly, Niran used the scissors to cut off the excess cord. He would need to buy a new one anyway, so he didn’t mind further breaking this one.

As soon as the necklace was done being modified, Pete turned in a circle, then sat with his chest puffed out, like he was showing off the jewelry. He trilled and started purring, and Niran would’ve sworn he was smiling, even as a cat. As if in response, the jade pendant briefly glowed green, like it too was happy to be back on Pete’s neck.

Niran wanted to hug him—actually him, not a cat. If he was going to pet Pete, he wanted it to be Pete’s actual hair, not this fur. If he was cooking, he wanted it to be a meal for them both to share, to eat and listen to Pete ramble about whatever was on his mind. He wanted to put jewelry on Pete and see the other man smile with his teeth showing, like he was unable to hold it in. He wanted his partner back. All of him.

With a huff, Niran shook his head. Screw it. He wasn’t waiting.

He grabbed his tote bag from the ground beside the couch and set it on the counter. “Get in.”

Pete jumped in without hesitation, then looked up at Niran with alert eyes and ears facing forward.

“Let’s go have a talk with Khun Oat,” Niran said, as serious as if they were facing down another demon.

Tail flicking back and forth—slapping into the canvas of the bag loudly—Pete meowed lowly and hunkered down in the bag, ready for Niran to pick it up. A nod, and Niran did just that. Within a minute, the door was locked behind them, the car was started, and they were on their way.

…

…

Oat and Chai lived in an apartment on the sixth floor. The white door was as ordinary and forgettable as every other door in the hall. Niran checked he had the correct address—he did—and then knocked.

After twenty seconds, he knocked again, louder.

After twenty seconds, he banged on the door.

“Please just go away!” a voice came, muffled through the door, sounding distressed.

At the sound of the guy’s voice, Pete shoved his head out the top of the bag, staring intently at the door. That was all the confirmation Niran needed: the voice belonged to Oat.

“You came to my shop for help yesterday,” Niran called back. “I’m paying you a house visit.”

It took about another twenty seconds, but the door lock beeped and then the door opened to reveal a fraction of the owner’s face. Even from just that little, Niran recognized Oat from the security footage.

“What’s your name?” the guy asked.

“Master Niran,” Niran said. “I’m a Wu.”

The door swung fully open and Oat, eyes teary, stared at him with a sort of desperate hope. “You—You’re really here.”

Pete let out a small mewl. Oat’s gaze darted down. Seeing the cat, his eyes went wide and then he actually began to cry.

“You—I’m—I’m so sorry. I—I didn’t mean to—”

“Perhaps we should talk inside,” Niran interrupted.

“Oh, o-of course,” Oat agreed.

He pressed himself fully into the wall while Niran walked past him, probably afraid of any sort of physical touch. Niran wasn’t worried. Pete hadn’t transformed as long as he wore the jade pendant. The ring on Niran’s finger—though not passed down a Wu family for generations—would keep him safe and human. Pete had poured enough of his love into it over the years that Niran wouldn’t be surprised if a point-blank gunshot missed him.

Inside, the apartment was just as normal as outside. The living room had a couch, coffee table, a small bookshelf, and a TV on a small entertainment system. The dining area held a small, two-person table and chairs. There was a kitchen with dishes just barely peaking out from the sink and a fridge covered in pictures held up with amphibian-themed magnets. Framed photos of Oat and what must’ve been Chai sat around the visible space, as well as a few potted plants. On the walls, coffee table, bookshelf, and entertainment system sat various statuettes and artifacts representing bits of Thai culture. The books on the bookshelf were a mix of culture, amphibians, and fiction—including some visual novels.

Oat gestured for Niran to take a seat on the couch, then awkwardly motioned to the dining table instead. “You can sit—Sit wherever you want.”

Niran chose the couch. With the table being so small, if Oat also sat there, their knees might brush. The couch offered more space between them, which would put Oat more at ease. And he did sigh with relief once they were both seated.

As soon as the tote bag touched the ground, Pete jumped out of it. He didn’t stick around, though. Instead, Pete wandered off down the hallway. Niran took note of where he was, then focused on Oat, who had also watched Pete leave.

“Khun Oat,” Niran said.

Oat turned around quickly. “I’m so sorry about him. I—I don’t even know how I did it.”

Niran shook his head once. “Your family is descended from a deity, who gave you this ability to help your community in times of dire need,” he said calmly.

Oat frowned, twisting his fingers around each other in his lap. “My family…A-are you sure?” he asked. When Niran nodded, he frowned deeper. “I was raised in an orphanage. I don’t—I never knew who they were.”

And there was the problem. No one to warn him. No one to train him.

“I can try and get you in contact with them later,” Niran said, “but right now, we have something more pressing to worry about.”

Oat nodded and squeezed his hands together. “Your…um…associate?”

Niran tilted his head to the side, pressed his lips together. “Pete is my partner, as much as Chai is yours,” he revealed.

They may not be as physical as most people would expect a couple to be, but they were no less dedicated to one another, no more likely to break things off than anyone else in a committed relationship. His world would be dark and grey without Pete at his side. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together, soul bond or no soul bond. Pete was Niran’s person, and Niran was Pete’s.

The admission had a new layer of guilt visibly crashing down on Oat. Tears spilled down his cheeks and he tried to hide behind his hands. “Oh my god—Please. Please tell me you can fix this. Please tell me you can make it stop,” he begged. “Chai—Chai is—”

A trill announced Pete’s return, and both men turned to watch as the Suphalak cat trotted into the room, proudly holding a large brown frog in his mouth.

“Chai!” Oat yelped even as Pete hopped up onto the couch between the two men and gently deposited the frog onto the cushion.

Closer now, Niran could see the many little spines on the frog’s rapidly heaving chest. There were no visible cuts, so Pete hadn’t harmed the frog, but he had definitely scared it. Pete chattered, his tail twitching excitedly but not full on wagging. Then he nudged the frog closer to Niran with his paw.

“This is Khun Chai?” Niran asked, even though he already knew the answer.

A nod, and then Oat reached out as if to touch the frog but hesitated just before he could make contact and pulled back. Niran’s brow drew low. Afraid his touch would make things worse? Guilt?

“Quasipaa fasciculispina,” Oat said quietly, fondly. His lips pulled slightly up as he spoke, though his voice was choked with tears. “The cardamom spiny frog. It’s…It’s Chai’s favorite amphibian.”

“He was the first person your gift transformed?” Niran asked. Oat nodded without taking his eyes off the frog. “Who else?”

This time, Oat shook his head. “Your partner,” he revealed, his voice still quiet. “I turned a—a Ratchaphruek tree into a jasmine bush. And that,” he motioned to the money tree at the end of the hallway, “used to be a constellation monstera.”

Well, at least there weren’t a bunch of people running around the city as animals. That was a bright side.

“Can you…I heard you have great power,” Oat said, a fragile hope in his voice as he lifted his eyes from the frog to Niran’s face. “Can you bring him back? Please? Please tell me you can fix this.”

Pete walked over the frog—not touching it with even a single hair—to curl up across Niran’s legs and press his head into Niran’s stomach. Instinctively, one of Niran’s hands fell to slowly pet him. And Niran realized he was lucky. A cat could communicate, could offer comfort. A frog couldn’t. He had been able to ascertain that Pete was okay—except for being a cat—but Oat had been living with a frog, uncertain as to whether his boyfriend was even still in there or not.

“If you had been trained, then you could have fixed it yourself,” Niran said. “In normal circumstances, a Wu can not change the form of one thing into another, nor interfere with a gift given by a deity.”

Oat’s shoulders fell and his expression crumpled into one of despair.

“However,” Niran continued, not giving the man time to think. “You are not using the gift for its intended purpose. This means Nature is out of balance.” He gave a reassuring smile. “And a Wu can fix that.”

…

…

Oat put Chai in a plastic pen with some water and a plastic plant, and then they all drove back to the shop where Niran had everything set up for the ritual. Niran called Fei on the way.

Once back in the shop, Niran pulled a single hair from Oat’s head. If he yelped, well, he had transformed Niran’s soulmate into a cat. He sat the hair in an earthen bowl on the altar he’d set up earlier, then sat behind it. Oat, Pete, and Chai sat in front of it.

When Niran didn’t start doing anything, Oat frowned. “Why aren’t you doing the ritual?” he asked, more confused than accusatory.

Niran also frowned. “I need another person with strong spiritual energy to bolster me. Usually, Pete could help me. However…” He trailed off, nodding pointedly toward the cat to Oat’s left, who was lazily cleaning himself. There was no way Niran was going to try pulling energy from Pete while he was like this.

A flush overtook Oat’s cheeks. “Oh. Um. Sorry. Again.”

They sat in quiet for the remaining seven minutes it took Fei to arrive. Pete finished bathing and curled up in a ball, but his ears twitched at every heavy sigh or shift from Oat, at the sound of mosquitos outside, so Niran knew he wasn’t asleep.

Fei didn’t knock. She just waltzed in with confidence. Oat jumped, but Pete just lazily lifted his head. Seeing Fei, Pete sat tall and trilled in greeting. Fei noted the necklace, nodded, then turned her attention to Niran.

“Traffic was so good you would think Heaven itself is on our side tonight,” she joked in a dry way, to where most people wouldn’t be able to tell it was a joke.

Pete let out a noise that might have been a cough, but Niran got the distinct impression he’d tried to laugh. It made Niran smile either way.

Niran held out a ritual bell and Fei moved to sit behind the altar with him, taking the offered item. Then, with a shared look and nod, they began. While Fei rhythmically rang the bell, Niran used his lighter on the candles on the altar, then lit incense and placed it in the incense bowl with a prayer. He burned a talisman he’d made earlier in the day specifically for this ritual, placing it, still burning, into the earthen bowl with Oat’s hair. When it was nothing but smoke and ash, Niran poured water into the bowl as well. Then, with Fei still ringing the bell, Niran took up his wooden mokugyo and tapped it while he began to chant.

The chant listed the ways Nature was out of balance and what had caused it—human foolishness and err—and called upon Nature itself to use its power alongside the energies of the Wu present to set things right. If Niran were less trained, he might have been distracted by Oat’s face looking equal parts terrified and in awe of the ritual. As it was, he barely noticed, all of his attention on the will of Heaven and the balance of Nature.

All at once, the candles went out. And Niran’s every nerve screamed, his body locking up, his jaw clenching tight, his eyes squeezed shut.

Distantly, he heard Fei say his name, Oat’s worried voice. Then Oat shouted in alarm, something shattered, and Niran felt two heavy thuds through the wood of the floor just as his muscles stopped seizing.

Like before, as soon as the pain vanished, Niran collapsed. The mokugyo clattered to the floor, but his body didn’t, instead landing on something warm, muscular, and familiar. Niran didn’t know when Pete had crossed the room or how, and he didn’t care. Pete’s very human arms were around him, keeping him mostly upright, and that’s all that mattered.

“Pete,” he said at the same time Pete said, “Niran.”

“Chai!”

Right. The other guy.

Niran finally opened his eyes, looked up at Pete to find him looking back. The jade necklace was gone again and Niran glanced toward where cat-Pete had been sitting, finding the string must have snapped again as Pete’s neck got too big for it, leaving the jade pendant on the floor.

Niran took a deep breath, feeling strength returning to his muscles faster than it had the first time—probably because Pete’s energy was strong through their bond again—and finally looked at the man responsible for this mess.

Oat was kneeling on the floor, staring at a much more muscular man wearing pajamas who must’ve been Chai. The shattered remains of the frog pen were scattered about the floor between them. Though Chai’s hands were outstretched, Oat’s were tucked under his armpits. He was even leaning away from his boyfriend, ensuring they had no contact.

“Oat,” Chai said beseechingly, but Oat shook his head.

“No. I—I’ll just turn you into a frog again. I can’t,” he choked out. “I can’t touch you again.”

“I’m going to make some tea,” Fei said to no one before heading for the kitchenette.

Sitting up straight, though Pete’s hands never left his shoulders, Niran cleared his throat to get the attention of the other men.

“Fei and I can help you locate your birth family,” Niran said, and was surprised at how level his voice came out after everything. “But it will take some time, and more time after that for them to teach you how to control your ability.”

Both other men looked stricken at this news. Like Niran with Pete, they didn’t want to be apart that long. Especially with no clear end date to that separation.

“I can perform a sealing ritual until that time, if you would like,” Niran offered. He already had the stuff ready for it, too.

“You can?” Oat asked hopefully.

A nod. “The seal can remain in place until you have learned how to control your gift, or it can remain in place permanently.”

“You’ll get a neat tattoo out of it,” Pete said, like a joke, to lighten the mood. To prove it, he turned his head to the side and showed their guests his old sealing mark. “This used to be a seal, but now it’s just a tattoo because I’m awesome and don’t need it anymore.”

Niran snorted and looked over his shoulder at his partner. “Because you’re awesome?”

With a pout, Pete said, “I am awesome. My level of control is super amazing and you know it.” He grinned to show he wasn’t actually upset. “I’m almost as awesome as you.”

As had been true from the first time Pete used that compliment, it sent butterflies fluttering in Niran’s heart. A big part of why Niran loved Pete was Pete’s complete faith, trust, and affection for all the things that made up Niran—his Wu heritage and powers, for certain, but also his struggles, his snark, and everything purely human about him.

“Um,” Oat broke in, garnering him Pete and Niran’s attention again. Oat put his hands together in supplication. “Please seal away this power. I don’t want it. I don’t need it.”

That’s all Niran needed to hear.

With a nod, Niran schooled his expression into something purely professional and said, “Okay. We’ll get started after we drink some tea.”

…

…

Though it was late by the time they made it home, Pete still sent a video message to the group chat to let everyone know he was alright and the situation with the guy in the picture was all handled. When they all started texting questions, Pete was the one who told them about the cat situation, which opened a whole other can of worms that Niran let Fei and Pete handle.

He was busy fixing a necklace. Well, replacing the cord with a new one that hadn’t been worn down over decades, a cord he blessed to make it withstand the test of time and human strength.

Pete found him in the office downstairs later, just as he finished up. Like fate, because nothing in their lives was a coincidence.

For a moment, Pete stayed in the doorway, arms crossed loosely and leaning on the door frame, a fond expression on his face. Then Niran stood from the desk and waved him over, not unlike when Pete was a cat. Pete joined him without question and Niran slipped the necklace over his head. Something in Niran settled at the sight of the jade pendant laying against Pete’s shirt.

“This will protect me,” Pete said, reaching up to touch the jade. It was the same tone Niran had used when he first gave the pendant to Pete on that rooftop years ago. Pete reached out to take and lift Niran’s left hand, to gently stroke the jade ring on his finger. “And this will protect you.”

Niran managed to nod, then shifted so that they were holding hands properly. He swallowed thickly.

“I felt the transformation,” he said, voice as quiet as the night around them. “It was like my very soul was screaming. The bond was weak, faded, and you weren’t answering your phone,” Niran said, almost like an accusation, to which Pete let out an ‘Aow!’ but Niran kept speaking over him. “I thought you were dying. I thought you were dying and I—” He stopped to swallow again, his heart in his throat. “I was six hours away. Too far to do a thing about it.”

For the first time, Niran let himself think about it, feel about it. He’d been running on so much adrenaline the past two days, even after he found Pete as a cat, even as he went grocery shopping or cooked bland chicken or slept on the shop couch. He had needed to focus to do what needed to be done, to save Pete. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about Pete, missing and injured and bleeding out with no one around to save him; of Pete as a cat, lost and alone and getting hit by a car or a dog or any number of other things that killed street cats every day; of Pete losing those qualities that made him Pete, becoming nothing more than a normal cat who didn’t know Niran’s soul or his heart. If he had thought of any of it for too long…If he imagined a world where he’d failed and Pete was gone…

“I was terrified,” Niran admitted, his voice wavering like incense smoke in the dark.

Pete squeezed his hand, then used it to pull Niran into a hug tight enough to knock the fear out of him.

“I wasn’t,” Pete said. “Do you know why?”

Niran shook his head even as his arms came up to clutch at Pete, feeling how real and human and alive he was.

“I could feel you coming,” Pete revealed. “As soon as my head stopped spinning and I realized what happened, I knew you were on your way. And I knew you could fix it.”

There was that faith that healed Niran’s soul. Niran’s eyes fluttered shut and he took a deep, grounding breath, using the feel and scent of Pete in his arms to settle the remaining anxiety thrumming in his veins. With a second breath, his hold on Pete turned from desperate grasp to warm hold.

“Our fates are connected,” Pete reminded him lightly as he breathed. “No matter what, you’re not getting rid of me. We’re always going to find our way back to each other, Niran.”

“Mm,” Niran agreed with a small nod that tickled the side of Pete’s neck and made the athlete let out a quiet giggle. “Always.”

Eventually, they pulled out of the hug. Niran tapped the jade pendant one last time before moving to clean up the remaining materials left on the desk. Pete helped without being asked and they shared a small smile.

When they were done, Niran turned out the light and they headed upstairs to get ready for sleep. Ploy had been in bed for hours now, so they kept quiet to not wake her. Once they had both used the bathroom and changed into pajamas, they slipped into bed.

They had purchased the bigger bed together—and argued over size and softness vs firmness and where to put it and what the sheets should look like—two years into living together. Pete had argued it was easier to only wash one set of bedding than two and suggested that it would promote faster recovery for when Niran overworked himself and his energy was out of balance. Niran had never corrected him to say that wasn’t how spiritual energies worked. The simple fact of the matter was that they both liked waking up and seeing each other first thing in the morning, of being within arm’s reach, of not having to ask to move beds if they wanted or needed to cuddle. And that night, Niran wanted to cuddle, dammit.

His head was on Pete’s chest, where he could hear Pete’s heartbeat under his ear, and he had almost dozed off…and then Pete spoke.

“Why wasn’t I a monkey?”

Niran hummed a question.

“Well, Khun Oat said his boyfriend became his favorite frog, right?” Pete mused, even as he absently messed with the sleeve of Niran’s shirt. “I have a monkey demon in me. Why did I become a cat?”

It was way too late to be having this conversation. Niran sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Asshole,” Pete said without heat, then pouted, “that’s not an answer.”

Niran pressed his nose into Pete’s clavicle. “I can show you the files Fei sent over tomorrow. You can read them yourself.”

He felt Pete shiver at the suggestion. “Ergh, no thanks.”

His disgust at the suggestion he read a long file had a smile growing on Niran’s face. “Go to sleep, Pete. Save your questions for when the sun’s out.”

“Uh,” Pete agreed. “Sleep well.”

“Sleep well,” Niran half slurred back, already drifting away.

Tomorrow, Pete would reopen his dojo and Niran would reopen the shop. Tomorrow, they would have breakfast with Ploy before she went to work, and Pete might or might not tell her about the whole cat thing. But for now, Niran was exhausted and could feel that same exhaustion through their bond. They both needed sleep. Tomorrow, they could deal with everything else.

…

…

fin