You are not enough. Did you train as much as you could? Did you claim every resource you could? Did you kill to get ahead? No. You didn’t. Otherwise, your brother would be alive. Do better. -Patriarch Hui Shin to his son after an attack on a caravan.

* * *

Nothing plagued my slumber. Only quiet darkness, a night sky with no moon and no stars, wreathed me. Nothing moved. Nothing spoke. Nothing breathed. Nothing marked the passage of time, not even my own thoughts.

I was too weak for even the Labyrinth to bother. Shattering seventeen separate versions of reality had taken its toll. With the combined stress of defying Tenri’s command, I really wasn’t sure if I would continue living, or if my body would just fade away.

This didn’t worry me. Wasting energy by worrying over that which I could not change would simply be that: a waste of energy. So, I rested. I waited. I let my body heal.

When my eyes finally opened just a crack, the sympathetic connection I shared with the moon told me exactly how much time had passed…not that I really needed it. It was the night after the new moon, and tiny blue and green wisps danced over my head like tiny moths flitting from light to light. They illuminated the dark room just enough to see.

I was at Jaili’s clinic, which was only sensible given my condition. The wind rattled the chimes outside the window which were illuminated by the soft light of several lunar tear lanterns. Otherwise, there was no light, save that of my wisps, and the ethereal chains that wrapped around my limbs and torso.

How unfortunate to awake on such an abysmal night, I thought to myself. I reached up, feeling my head with my left hand. Sure enough, the yokai-like horns poked out of my hair.

A presence next to me stirred. “Hmm? Wha…oh, you’re awake,” Tenri murmured. He sat up in his chair from where he’d apparently been napping on the side of the bed. There were bags beneath his eyes. “How do you feel?”

I looked up at my clawed hand before setting it down. “Physically? I feel weak, but alive.” My voice rasped, and I briefly wondered if Jaili had shoved cotton in my mouth for some reason. “Can I have some water?” Tenri immediately nodded and stood. His white robes were wrinkled from where he’d been sleeping, and he yawned as he brought a small cup to me and helped me sit up.

“You were unconscious for a little over a week,” he said as I drank the refreshing liquid.

“I know.” I lowered my head. No doubt his grave attire was leftover from the funeral. “Listen, Tenri, I’m so s-”

Before I could even finish the sentence, the wood artist lunged at me. His arms wrapped around my neck, and I was certain he was going to strangle me to death. It would have been his right. He was probably furious with me for letting Hanako die.

There was a CRACK, and, for a moment, I thought it the sounds of the bones in my neck snapping, only no pain followed…until I hit the ground. Tenri held me still, only it wasn’t tight enough to hurt.

“Don’t you ever make me worry like that again, do you understand?” His voice cracked as he whispered the words straight into my ear. “You were so still, and I could only touch you with my qi. I thought you’d died and were reduced to a shade. Xinya was inconsolable for days, and I worried you’d just pass on once she was safe.”

I blinked, unsure if I’d just heard him right. His shoulders shuddered, and he squeezed me tighter, as if he were adrift in a storm and I was his only life raft.

“I…I don’t understand,” I answered in words too soft for anyone but him to hear.

“What?”

“Why would you be worried about me?” I shifted, causing my chains to clink together. “I’m just…”

“You’re the man who nearly killed himself trying to save my family.”

“I failed.”

“Did you?” Tenri released me and knelt. The bed was wrecked, unable to withstand the force of Tenri’s assault, but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he reached into his robes and pulled out an envelope. I took it.

The paper was slightly charred in places, but most of it was still legible. My eyes widened in shock as I scanned the words written in delicate calligraphy. Suddenly, a part of me wished I’d killed those wicked artists when I’d had the chance.

“They tried to fake her suicide,” Tenri explained. “I don’t know how they copied her calligraphy, but they didn’t copy her spirit.”

That was the understatement of the century. The letter made no sense to anyone who actually knew Hanako. It went on and on about how she’d failed to save her husband’s parents. The shame coupled with the fact that she had borne no children drove her to the brink. To add frost to the snows, she pinned it all on me, saying that she couldn’t bear the rumors that the “lunar whoreson” had stolen her husband from her.

“They could have at least been a bit more creative in their insults. Hanako would have done better,” I said. If it had been any other woman, the note might actually have been believable.

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Tenri nodded. “She never wanted children, and she regarded you as much a part of our family as she was.”

“She called me ‘Ruru’ as she died.” I idly rubbed the part of my arm where the tally marks formed, only to wince as my Void-touched claws dug into the bandages. Tenri put a hand against my injury, blocking me from touching it further.

“How many times did you see her death?” he asked. I hung my head.

“Only a few,” I admitted. “Tenri, I’m sor-”

“Enough. You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “Without you, I might have believed that she really did take her own life. Part of me would have always wondered if I’d wronged her by letting the rumors get so far out of hand. I’d never have known the culprits were there, and they’d have gotten away with murder.” He looked up into my eyes. “Also, you’re the only person I have left besides Zumi and Jaili. I don’t want to lose you, Yoru.”

I looked away but couldn’t stop a gentle smile from creeping to my lips. He’d used my given name, instead of the more formal use of my family name. So few people in this age actually used it, I could count them on one hand with several fingers to spare. It sounded nice on his lips, felt nice in my ears, and filled my heart with a warmth I hadn’t truly felt since breaking free of the prison that bound me for so long.

“I question your judgement, Lin,” I said, returning the gesture, “but if you’re sure you want a legendary monster in your corner, then I suppose I can’t judge.”

He smiled at me for a long moment before glancing around. His whole face flushed red as he noticed the splintered wood of the bedframe.

“Maybe I should help you back into bed…a different one, I guess.”

However, rather than let me lean on him like a normal, sane person, he hooked his arms under my legs and lifted me straight off the ground. I yelped in alarm as one of my chains caught in the broken pile of wood, threatening to pull me right out of his arms, but he gently reached down and freed the length of lunar steel. Lin wrapped it around his wrist to keep it off the floor, then walked swiftly to another bed and settled me down.

“By the way, can you explain something to me?”

“Depends on if I have the answer,” I answered honestly.

“Back in the fire, you seemed to be disappearing, then you started choking. What exactly did you do to yourself?”

I bit my tongue in frustration. His question had two answers, and neither of them were things I particularly wanted him to know. He’d only fuss over me, just like Chouko used to.

“Yoru, maybe I can help you. If I can recognize the signs, maybe I can be more efficient during those…rewinds, or whatever.”

“Rewinds?” I scoffed. “I’m not a time traveler. That’s not how it works!”

“Then explain it, so I can understand.”

I sighed. He was right. Since he already knew the secret to my success, he may as well be available to help when I was neck-deep in shattered realities and bloody tally marks. So, I began to explain.

Flash Back was quite possibly the best, most complex technique I’d ever created. It had the capacity to give me near-limitless time to resolve complex problems and situations, and I’d used it to extremely great effect on no few occasions. From finding the perfect strategy to decimate the undead armies of the Damned King of Daying to finding the solution to the qi drought that led to my downfall to learning to play the flute in time to win a bet with the Reili, the possibilities of Flash Back were endless.

However, it was not without a cost. For every reality I denied, every tally mark upon my skin, the wave of unbound qi generated by shattering a fate in progress rebounded onto me. Most of that cost was taken by the version of myself that triggered the Flash Back, but some always trickled back to the version who could yet change things. Over the course of too many Flash Back iterations, my body would be unraveled by the rampant qi.

“And that’s why I looked like a shade,” I finished. “I was literally fading from reality.”

“You actually used an ability that would erase you from existence?!” Lin said, stunned. “Promise me you won’t use that too much. It sounds like a terrible way to die.”

I nodded my head, knowing full well that it was a promise I would struggle to keep. This body was weak. How was I to know that I could only Flash Back 17 times over a 40-minute interval? I developed the ability at Salt. I had no idea what it would do to an Iron body.

“You just looked to be in a lot of pain, unable to breathe,” he mused.

“Oh, that was unrelated,” I said before realizing. Lin’s brow furrowed in question, and I made a point to study the wisps lazily flitting over my head.

“Yoru.” His voice was low and dangerous. “Something that is that much of a hazard to you is something I should know about.”

I sighed. Why was he always right about everything? It wasn’t fair.

“You commanded me to leave. I disobeyed,” I answered simply.

“Command? But I didn’t…” he trailed off, remembering the exact words he said to me that morning. He shook his head violently. “But, you never do what you’re told. Why only now?”

“You gave me a qi command. It’s not the first time.”

Back when we first met, Lin had issued a command laced with qi demanding that I tell him who I was. It was the only reason why he even knew of my dark past instead of some other, clever lie. He didn’t know he’d done it, and at the time, I didn’t know the kind of person he was, so I didn’t tell him.

“But now, I know you,” I concluded, leaving the thought hanging.

Lin hung his head. “I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t tell you,” I said. “Besides, it’s my own fault for messing up the qi technique that binds me to you. I didn’t have much time to get the details straight.”

Lin looked like he might say something else, but the bell over the entry door rang through the little apothecary shop and infirmary. Jaili entered a few moments later, carrying a sleeping Xinya. Both of them were dressed in white. Lightning qi coursed underneath the little girl’s skin, and I was relieved to see her recovering well.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Jaili whispered. “Zumi took over the vigil for us. Brother Lin, you were supposed to be getting sleep.”

“I was, I swear!”

“I’m keeping him up, apologies.” I shrugged sheepishly while Jaili settled Xinya down into one of the spare beds. She walked further into the dark room, only to accidentally kick a splinter of wood across the floor. My wisps betrayed me, illuminating the mess for her to see.

“Tsuyuki, weren’t you in a different bed earlier?”

“Um, you know, I was asleep? How could I possibly know?” It was not my most convincing lie, but a smile twitched across the apothecary’s face.

“Then, Lin, do you want to explain to me why one of my beds is in splinters?”

“You told me to sleep. I couldn’t say.”

Jaili huffed. “Two big bad cultivators, and neither of you saw the villain who did this? Shameful.”

I laughed. “What can I say, cultivators sleep deep!”