My fingertips brush over anything and everything I can touch on our way to the gym. The grains in the doors. The smooth warmth of the lightbulbs and the clammy cool of the metal fixtures that hold them. The feathery texture of Cal’s hair. The wet slipperiness of the iceball Yuki hands me. The roughness of my scars.

I’ve never felt so much detail, especially through my prosthetic. Between the regular scorching of ki blasts, the abuse I’ve leveled on my nerves since arriving in the capital, and a fighting decade of sensory desensitization, I’d never realized just how dull my sense of touch had become. It’s like I’ve been given a new set of eyes with my new right hand. My fingers curl and uncurl in every combination with perfect dexterity. The limb is smoother moving than my real left side. Faster too, and so durable that I can’t even scratch it on my own. And believe me, I put that claim to the test when Cal mentioned it this morning. In her words,

“You could melt yourself into a puddle and we’d still be able to pull this thing out of the goop.”

Fresh, polished carbon fiber gleams as I turn my new arm back and forth. Built from the bones of Jolie’s old schematics, powered by looted Shimano Heavy Industries tech in Dynasty’s reserves, and reinforced in the knuckles by that recovered lump of raw damascene, the prosthetic is the technological apotheosis of three different schools of innovation.

I never understood Jolie’s insistence on carbon-fiber frames until after I was forced into hiding. Even a single drop of metal would be lethal in the presence of Gami. Damascene is the one exception- it can’t be interacted with by any JOY class. It doesn’t register as any Element, Guardians can’t access it in their armory of materials, and it’s not organic. Technically, damascene isn’t even the real name of the material that reinforces my new knuckles- it’s just the loanword that’s been adopted over the years. In reality, the material is of an entirely different genre that’s inordinately resistant to outside forces. Heat, pressure, gravity- there’s few things besides more damascene that can leave a scratch on it. The material would make for the perfect armor if it weren’t as rare as stardust and impossible to shape. Even though I’d heard of it before, I’d never seen any but the tiny amount used in Cal’s bangle. The lump used to bait me into the ambush was inert in form, meaning it’s not useful like a Relic. But it can certainly serve another purpose instead. Not even Dynasty’s industrial forges could do anything to make it more shapeable, so Jolie worked the entire lump of ore into her design for the arm.

Even Cal was stunned by that one.

As nice as it was to have a chance to exist without an arm plugged in, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t inconvenient. A new hand is the perfect way to cap off the end of my healing. Days of grueling weight training, dusting every meal with black market drugs and protein compounds that were banned in the overcity, sleepless nights of horrible sweating, and relentless conditioning with Cal and Yuki have reshaped my body into a working vessel for my reawoken ki.

I’ve started seeing myself in the mirror again. A sharper self, harder and more brittle than I used to be, but no longer powerless. My eyes are driven crimson. Hair a pale off-white color bleached by my injuries, perpetually stirring in the current of my passive aura. A storm that follows wherever I go. I miss the old color, but I’m getting used to the new one. It fits me.

I’m glowing brighter than ever, this morning most of all. Giddy energy burns in and around me. It’s even affecting the others. Yesterday they looked just as you’d expect after the previous week’s grueling regimen. Bathed in the aura I exude today, Nabuna’s dark circles have faded, Yuki walks with a fresh spring in his step, and Cal- who’s been existing beside me for seven days now- looks ready to take on the world after just five hours of toss-and-turn sleep.

We’re chumming it up like old friends hyped up on a gallon of caf the entire way to the gym. The first hour of weightlifting goes past in a blink. I don’t remember the last time I was talking this much, grinning this much, or just having a goddamn good time. It’s just a trip to the gym like any other, but my mood is infectious. Especially in Cal. She can’t stop glancing at me during the monotony of the workout. I can’t stop noticing.

Lunch is the usual fare of rice and meats tossed in an illegal sauce of drugs and stimulants. Nabuna heads off to the open side of the hangar to have a smoke while us younger three commandeer a tiny plastic table off in a corner of the gym where everyone leaves their bags. Cal digs right into her food like we won’t be alive tomorrow. I keep forgetting to eat mine. Nostalgia swirls inside me as I watch her sift through the rice to find the pieces of egg first; like the sugary bits in a bowl of cereal. Thane used to do the exact same thing.

“I’m glad I found you when I did,” Yuki mentions through a mouthful of food, pulling me back to their conversation. “Heavens know the impression I’d have of this city otherwise. Besides the gala, I’ve only been cooped up here herding cats. Haven’t had the freedom to venture out more. Very fortunate that adventure found its way to me instead.”

“If you want to watch the pros before you leave, don’t let Tay swindle you into going to the M- there’s this gnarly noodle bar across the street from it that gets way more wild than the arena itself,” Cal says.

“Sadly, I don’t think more trips topside are in the cards. My master and I are only in your city on a temporary assignment. We’ll be gone within the fortnite.”

“Huh. I always figured Executors were too busy for pleasure trips.”

“Just because we’re bad guys doesn’t mean we spend all our time twirling mustaches,” Yuki chuckles. “In all seriousness, we’re only here to extract a last few assets. Our operations are pulling out of the Vents. Business here has become more troublesome than the profits are worth as of late.” He shoots her a knowing look. “From what I’ve heard, and I do hear quite a bit, your brother is the main reason for that. He has a reputation.”

“It’s an earned one,” I say, breaking my silence. “Thane is very good at what he does.”

“Being the focus of the conversation?” Cal chuckles. Even I snort.

Waving a hand for me to scoot, she moves her chair beside mine and rakishly kicks her feet up on the table. Everything wobbles. “If you’re not going to have another chance to get out of the Orange, you should come back with us after the workout. Jolie will be cooking dinner. She won’t mind another guest.”

Yuki’s answering smile is all chagrin. “I really couldn’t intrude…”

“It’s a special occasion. Trust me.”

“I mean, there’s so much paperwork to be filling out and so little time to do it…”

“Make some time. Tay insists on it.”

My freckles bunch in confusion. “I do?”

She shoots me a flirty smirk. “Yeah. You do. Just relax and be pretty for a sec.”

I shrug and resume chowing down on my carton of takeout. “Anything Cal says comes from me. And Aunt Jolie’s cooking is the best.”

Cal tips her head in my direction. “There you go. She insists.”

“Well, far be it from me to dismiss such a rousing caliber of recommendation.” Yuki lifts his eyebrows and starts rummaging for his bag. “And you know, if the apple is anything like the tree…”

“Dude. She’s adopted.”

“What? All I was going to say was that Director Mons must have great taste in…”

“Don’t make me.”

“…in food. In food, Feint. In food! Come on. Don’t look at me like that, Tay does it enough already. You’re such a prude sometimes, you know- oh come on, there’s no need for blades. It was just a joke. We’re eating lunch. Feint. Feint? Tay, she’s pulling a knife-”

“Not outside the square, Cal.”

Cal files under her nails with a dark smile. “If you insist.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

----------------------------------------

Our suite is in full holiday swing by the time Yuki and I get back, nearly an hour of sparring after Cal left early to help Jolie with… something. She wouldn’t say what. But I have a feeling I know what it is, judging by the smell emanating from deeper within the staterooms.

Jolie and Cal must be in the kitchen with Nabuna; I can hear the three of them talking over frying oil, clanking pots, and the familiar scents of home cooking. Acoustics with a foot-tapping beat play from a speaker in the common room.

I’m almost drooling as I lope into the entryway, dump my bag, and start stripping off my shoes. Yuki stoops to remove his sandals with far more propriety. He lags behind near the door while I head on in, slow enough that I stop to throw a wondering look back over my shoulder. “You coming?”

He’s paused in the open doorframe, an awkward, uncertain look on his face. “I’m still not sure this is a terribly great idea. Director Mons-”

“I what?” my aunt asks, leaning into the thin hall. She takes one whiff of me and says, no-nonsense, “You need to shower. You smell like a locker room.”

I roll my eyes and wave for Yuki to follow. “Come on, they’re waiting.”

Jolie peers over me, eyes narrowing behind her glasses. First in suspicion, then confusion, then wrenching recognition. A breath catches in her throat. “…Ajax?”

Still in the doorframe, Yuki winces noticeably. His lips wrinkle in an awkward grimace as he finally steps inside. Taller than my aunt, he bows low to her in traditional village style, deeper than even conservative tradition. The bow folds to a kneel as he looks up, blue eyes catching in the light that comes from the kitchen.

“You do me an honor, Director Mons, one I’m not very worthy of. I apologize if I scared you.”

Jolie’s gone pale as a ghost beside me. Recovering after a long breath, she steps past me and lays a hand on Yuki’s shoulder. “The scaring was all my doing. You look just like him.”

“Just like who?” I ask, cautious now.

“An old friend.” Jolie reaches up to hold a hidden heirloom that dangles from her neck. She breathes out hard. Steps to the side, motioning Yuki onward. “It’s good to see a familiar face, even in a place like this. Nabuna neglected to mention your heritage when he told me you were the Executor’s apprentice.”

Yuki shrugs apologetically. “I’m afraid he wasn’t wrong to. I’m not a Lionhart- not anymore, at least. Just have the looks. Not the name.”

“Interesting,” she muses. “You’re a long way from home.”

“Long story. Best saved for another day.”

“Hopefully you dropped the family appetite when you dropped their name. I cooked far too much for just us three.”

“Wasn’t that why you brought the hustler?” He pretends to peer deeper into the suite. “In all honesty, I’d love to join you for dinner. If you’ll have me.”

Jolie motions us on and leads the way inside. “There’s an extra shower by Tay and Cal’s room. Wash up quick- food’s almost done.”

I spring past her and into the common room, about to ask what they’re making when Cal slides smoothly in my way, barring my view of the kitchen. My eyebrows raise.

“Jolie’s orders,” she says with a sardonic smile.

“We’ll see about that.” With a hup of effort, I lift Cal off her toes and deposit her on the counter looking into the kitchen. Rather than protest, she slips her legs in a noose around my waist, ankles knotting to keep me from leaving. Those golden eyes smirk right at me. I lean left to try for another peek and she leans right along with me. Right, left, right. Ponytail flopping around, blocking me every time. “If you really wanted to stop me from looking… there are plenty… of better ways.”

“Not as fun though. And what would you rather I do, drop a cup on your head?” Her finger flicks off my forehead in mocking reprimand. “Not that I’d mind. I’ve always wondered if it’ll sound as hollow as I think it will.”

My stomach growls. I don the most honest smile I can, crinkling eyes and everything, trying not to look as ravenously hungry as I am. “I can already smell it, Cal. Come on. Just one look. Honest.”

“Very tempting, but Jolie’s orders were no peeking. Although…” Glancing to where my aunt and Yuki are still chatting at the cooler, Cal leans back and stretches her arm through the window, reaching for the pot bubbling just on the other side. Her index finger comes back covered in red-brown sauce. She holds it in front of my lips. Eyes provocative. Daring me. That little head tilt and a hint of a smirk as she says, “She didn’t say anything about tasting.”

I’m still beet red while I pull on fresh clothes after my shower, full minutes later. No one even would have seen, really. And the way Cal’s eyes widened- she didn’t think I actually would call her bluff. To be fair, I didn’t either. It happened before I realized what I was doing. And that look, that lip bite as I pulled away. Her finger sliding from between my lips. My whole face is turning even redder just thinking about it.

I bury my head in a damp towel and groan into the fabric.

Forget it, Tets. Forget it. Just pretend it didn’t happen. Yeah. That’ll work. So what if she makes a bunch of innuendos over dinner? You can survive.

I pop back out of the towel, nod at my reflection, then step out of the bathroom and almost trip right over Cal as she jogs past on the other side. She grabs my wrist before I can make it awkward, firm grip, a smile on her face as she yanks me towards the common room. She calls out ahead in a loud voice. “Ready, Jolie?”

We swing around the corner and I’m thrust right into a waiting cup of sake and a peck on the forehead from my aunt. The suite completely transformed while I showered. A homemade feast is spread out across the floor-level table in the common room, pillows arranged for sitting around it, just like they would be home. Bottles of uncorked sake intersperse the food; a tiny bundle of flowers the humble centerpiece. Huge bowls of homemade curry steam into the air. Chicken cutlet, Jolie’s recipe. Candles and stringlights surround a hastily-scrawled digislate propped up on the counter that reads Happy Birthday.

I stand there stunned until Jolie says something I don’t catch and Cal pulls me towards the table. Already seated, Nabuna and Yuki raise paper cups of sake in salute. I can’t stop smiling as I drop down beside Cal, long legs curled beneath me.

“It’s a little out of season, but I wanted to make up for three years of missed ones,” Jolie says, sinking onto the pillow to my right like metal into a mold. She grabs a whole bottle of sake to join in as we bump cups, then takes a healthy swig. Wraps an easy hand around me and pulls me close. Gives my scalp a deep scratch. “Your father would be proud of you, if he were here.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Nostalgia tinges my aunt’s expression as she looks over at the scene before us, cast in halogen hues. The laughter, the joyful mood, almost like a holiday. Scraping spoons and gurgling sake as the others dig in. It’s a long look, tinged with bittersweet emotion. One that makes me wonder just how many of these kinds of celebrations she’s sat through with other friends, other family; the people changing while she outlasted each in turn. The old pain in her eyes tells the number. Too many.

I lean in and nestle against her, letting her hold me close. “It’s been so long since I had curry.”

“That last dinner. Before we left for Z.”

“Mhm.” I take a small sip of the sake. Ice cold at first, yet pleasantly warm when it reaches my stomach. “You never told me what Dad and Thane went out on the back porch to talk about.”

“It’s not important anymore,” she says, taking another sip. Distant gaze, like she’s seeing some faraway scene instead of the room before us. “I should have seen the signs sooner. I did, really, and I chose to ignore them. Mars thought he saw the future in that boy. I told him he was blinded by it, but he always wanted to do better than the old man. Couldn’t bring himself to be the bad guy. Especially not when it came to a kid who hadn’t done anything wrong besides being born.” She favors me with a wistful smile. “At least he was right about one of those kids.” She leans to look past me as Cal starts scooping me a plate of curry. “Well. Maybe two of them.”

“She’s not that bad, Auntie.”

“No. She’s not. I always did like her better than Thane.”

“Because she didn’t beat you in chess?”

“Among other reasons.” Remembering herself, Jolie pulls a lap-sized package out from beneath the table and hands it to me. “Happy birthday, honey.”

I carefully pull apart the string holding it together, already knowing the contents by the softness of the package. Scrap plastsheets unfurl like a blooming flower to reveal a familiar lump of midnight blue, crimson red, and snow white. Fresh stitching mends the old holes and fraying threads of Dad’s college jacket. Like me, it’s not good as new- still has that feathered zipper that never closes quite right- but it’s been given fresh life. Tailored down to a cropped cut better fit for my dynamic way of fighting, no longer just an oversized keepsake of my dad’s. I stutter as I brush away the extra paper.

“But wasn’t it back in Cal’s apartment?” I turn to look at Cal. “Did you…?”

She shrugs back. “Jolie did the stitching.”

The jacket falls to my lap as I look between them. Across the table, Nabuna’s gut shifts as he reaches across to drop a dulled thousand-credit chip on top of the jacket with a backstreet grin. “If you ever want to learn a different game than fighting, you got a free ante on me.”

“Wasn’t aware of the occasion when I was invited, but…” Holding a palm up, Yuki breathes out and uses his Elemental control to solidify a gleaming necklace of pure ice out of the air. The links click like gemstones as he hands it to me. “Sadly, it’ll only be good for a very chilly event.”

“It’s perfect,” I say with a genuine smile. As Jolie takes the necklace to the cooler, I thank them each with a humble bow. Lingering the longest on Cal. Once my aunt is back, I nod to food with a grin. “I’ve been waiting years for this. Let’s eat.”

The night simmers on in a blurring rush of happiness. Plates are scraped clean and covered again. Cups never stay empty for long. A staticky stream screen plays pro fight footage quietly in the corner. I participate where I can, but there comes a point where I find myself leaning back comfortably against the couch with a smile on my face, like a campfire watching the piecemeal group that’s come to gather around the light it sheds. It’s something I’ve never really had, growing up with only Thane for company.

Over in the kitchen, I catch a glance of Cal pawning the last of the dishes off on Jolie with an apologetic grin, then going to grab her jacket from the entryway. She comes back around the corner wearing boots and a scarf too.

“Come on,” she says, tapping me on the shoulder. “I have something to show you.”