Work Text:
“Y’know, Ahu, sometimes I worry I don’t do enough for you.”
Xin Ya squints up at her wrist as she slowly spins in her desk chair. Holographic numbers flicker into view, the last digit rapidly scrolling between 3 and 7 until it finally settles on 6. Higher than the last time she checked, at least. The string of zeroes encircling her wrist hasn’t gotten any shorter, though, and that—that’s the crux of the issue.
Across the room, she hears Ahu hop down from her bed, landing with a huffy little hmph before he pads across the floor to sit next to her chair. She catches her hand on the desk to abruptly stop spinning, grinning down at him.
It’s late. Her neighbor’s lights went out hours ago, and given that Xin Ya has online classes in the morning, she really should be in bed already. But she had this idea for a new video using the footage from Ahu’s last fight and she thought if she just, y’know, sketched out the details that’d be good, ‘cause then she wouldn’t forget like she always does when she wakes up, and the sketches looked better than expected so she wanted to test out the graphics, and—
And she’s been sitting in this chair for the last… nine hours, give or take.
The free editing software she uses takes forever to render videos, and she has to double check everything on her phone because it’s got way better graphics than her computer, so she’ll pause every ten minutes to send the file to her email and watch it back and nitpick every last detail, and then she’s back to the computer for the next five second clip.
So, really, it’s not her fault! Ahu’s moderately disapproving comments that he’s been making from hour four onwards are totally off the mark, okay, Xin Ya is an artist and all great artists have to sacrifice for their work. Sleep, nutrition, the occasional bit of blood (the nosebleed stopped in like, a few minutes, and she only needed one tissue, she’s fine). All in the name of making great art!
Anyway.
Rotating herself to face the computer again, Xin Ya leans back in her chair, looking over the looping video with a critical eye.
Not her best work, but she’ll have more time to polish it up after classes tomorrow. Her last post got a ton of hits and comments, so she really wants to showcase Ahu’s real talent in this one. His fans are growing by the day—by the time hour—and Xin Ya’s determined to keep that momentum going.
Ahu’s a hero. Her hero. He saved her, saved the neighborhood. If enough people believe in him the way she does, then she knows he can save the whole world, too.
It’s just—well.
Sometimes, just sometimes, when it’s late like it is now, and it’s all quiet aside from the click of her mouse and Ahu’s whufflely breathing, she sort of… wishes it could be her, too. Standing alongside Ahu rather than supporting him from the sidelines.
There’s a folder on her desktop that she can’t bring herself to delete. Nestled inside it are old drawings, photos, some of them from as far back as her earliest childhood memories that she scanned into her computer years later. They’re silly things—colorful costume designs, pictures of her in cardboard armor and bottle-cap goggles. Striking dumb, cheesy poses like the ones she saw on comic book covers.
Xin Ya’s never needed a reason to help people. It’s what her parents did—they gave whatever they had, whatever they could, to whoever needed it. And when they died, the community took Xin Ya in, because they loved her parents as much as she did. Of course she’d do everything in her power to return the favor.
She thought, for a while, that she could be like all those heroes she saw on billboards.
But no matter how hard she worked—no matter how many people relied on her—her Trust value never broke double digits. She never developed any cool powers. She was just… Xin Ya.
And Xin Ya wasn’t hero material, apparently.
As much as that stung, it’s what fueled her to find Ahu. If she couldn’t be the hero herself, then she’d damn well make one.
He’s everything she could have asked for and more. A real hero. A bright, shining star—nothing like that creep Nice, who shone only the spotlight was centered on him.
Xin Ya’s so, so grateful she met Ahu. Grateful to have him with her, to stand behind him and lift him up to new heights. She is, really.
She watches the numbers on her wrist disappear from view and smiles wryly to herself. At least she knows who her own Trust has never been misplaced when it comes to Ahu.
“Don’t be an idiot.”
Xin Ya yelps as Ahu suddenly hops into her lap, setting the chair spinning lazily again as she lets go of the desk to wrap her arms around him. He’s a warm, solid weight on top of her thighs, his fur the nice kind of bristly beneath his fingers. He waits for the chair to slow to a stop before he wriggles his way to standing on his back paws, front paws braced against Xin Ya’s shoulders, his cold, wet nose pressed to the tip of her own. Xin Ya goes crosseyed looking at him, and she has to stifle a laugh.
“You do plenty, Xin Ya,” he says, which prompts her to close her mouth, her teeth clicking with the force of it. “I’m only a hero because of you. I’m only here, period, because of you. You’re special, Xin Ya. To me, to everyone in this neighborhood. But you’re also just… special. All on your own.”
“I’m not all that, Ahu,” Xin Ya protests. “I’m just a marketing whizz, and I’m not even that good at it. People still complain about the CGI—“
“You’re a good person,” Ahu cuts in, gruff. “You’re warm.”
Xin Ya blinks as Ahu eases back onto his haunches. “Warm?”
Ahu huffs, turning his head away. “Warm. I don’t know what else to call it. Whenever you hug me, I feel like I can do anything. That’s a pretty good superpower if you ask me.”
“Aww, Ahu! When did you get so sweet?”
Xin Ya hugs Ahu to her chest, and it’s definitely not because her eyes feel suspiciously hot, okay, he just said something so cute she has to squeeze him about it.
He goes willingly, at least, resting his chin on her shoulder and politely enduring the ear scritches she gives him as she rocks them from side to side.
“We make a good team, then, huh?”
“We are,” Ahu agrees. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”
Xin Ya grins, her eyes straying to the monitor in front of her. Ahu’s making a daring leap from the rooftop to land a punishing blow to a rampaging villain, and she can hear the music she added in post playing faintly from the speakers on her desk. She’ll be able to post it tomorrow, and they can watch in real time as Ahu’s Trust value shoots up as the views and comments and likes roll in.
“Thank you for trusting me, Ahu,” she says softly, speaking mostly into the fur of his neck.
He sighs and relaxes against her, letting her take his weight. “It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”