Author's note: Short chapter, sorry - but the next one is longer, and kicks off the main plot, so it will be worth the wait.
Also, yes, I know everyone is dying for the next chapter of Sacrifices. Don't worry, I will get back to it soon - the problem is that I have too many WIPs going on right now to focus on one as detailed as The Behemoth - er, Sacrifices. (You have no idea how long that story is going to be. No idea). Once I get The Shifu out of my head (9ish chapters, maybe 30,000 words?), it will be all Sacrifices, all the time...
Hei gently set the plate of freshly-made tangyuan on the ground next to the rough concrete that was the subterranean foundation of the Gate's wall. The plate was a cute plastic one, white with pink sakura blossoms; half a dozen sweet rice balls were stacked in a small pyramid in the center. Xing would have thought it was pretty; Bai would have commented on the contrast between the clean innocence of the plate and the grimy filth of the tunnel's floor.
She'd done that sort of thing often in the last year or so of her existence, though Hei hadn't really noticed it then - a disinterested mention of a bright flower in the midst of a killing field, or a long study of the stars as they fell by her hand. Then, he had assumed that she was merely taking stock of her surroundings in that odd, detached way she'd always had as a contractor; but the more he thought about it - the more he considered what Amber had told him, and Bai's warm smile at the center of the Gate - he was beginning to wonder if maybe she hadn't been seeking out her own sort of poetry. Trying to find a path back to humanity. And he'd just been too biased to see it.
Overhead, a light flickered fitfully, casting a brief shadow over the broad streak of blood splashed against one of the pillars. Wei's body was gone; removed by Section Four long after the corpse had rotted. The piece of wall that his life's blood had destroyed had been repaired and fitted with a reinforced steel door, the same that was used in the vaults of the highest-security banks.
When Hei had told Misaki shortly after joining Section Four exactly how he'd gotten inside during the Tokyo Explosion, she'd been irate that it had been so easy, no matter how well hidden. She'd wanted to seal up this entrance to the Gate completely; he'd pointed out to her that with contractors involved, a solid wall wasn't any more of a deterrent than a vault door no matter how thick. If they knew to come here to break in, they could do it easily. But without a network of dolls to guide them, anyone - contractor or human - who managed to enter would quickly find themselves lost beyond hope, so there wasn't much point to trying to keep people out. The Gate did that on its own.
Besides, what if some new Syndicate attempted to do the same thing all over again, or perhaps something worse? Hei wouldn't have Amber this time around; an entrance that he could get through easily might be necessary.
And the thought of forever cutting off his access to the only place he knew he could see his sister again was unbearable. Maybe it would be impossible without the meteor shard - that artifact had been present both times that he'd seen her - but it was still the closest chance that he had.
He hadn't come here to think about that, though. He'd come to remember Xing.
He spent about a minute fidgeting with the plate - positioning it just so, then moving it again. Not that it made any difference where the plate was. It wasn't like Xing was actually here.
It was eerie being alone beneath the city like this, in a place where he'd left two of his team members behind forever - Huang at the entrance to the tunnel, Mao on the other side. He'd almost put on his Reaper gear for this visit, hands automatically reaching for the roll of midnight black fabric stuffed in the back of his bureau drawer. Instead, he'd chosen a pair of dark jeans and a black button-down shirt. Bai had found a coexistence between the child that she'd been and the contractor that she had become; Hei had too, now, he supposed.
At least, he was working on it.
He had worn his cotton-soled shoes, and tucked an extra knife or two into his belt; this place was right at the edge of the Gate, after all, even if he didn't think that anyone else knew about it.
He'd worn a pair of gloves as well. Even though his fingers prints were now officially on file with the police (and not in connection to any criminal databases), it wouldn't do to leave any trace of his presence here, just in case someone did stumble across the simple tangyuan offering and wonder who might be leaving food in such a place. He'd gotten an odd look or two on the train, carrying the plastic-wrapped white and pink plate in black-gloved hands, but his best Officer Li smile had been enough to dispel any fear.
Straightening at last, he gazed down at the plate and wondered what to do next.
Misaki spoke out loud whenever she visited her mother's grave. Hei didn't think he could do that. Every instinct that he possessed as a spy and assassin was whispering to him to not make a sound, lest it bounce off the walls of this concrete tomb. It was bad enough that he was standing out in the open, such as it was.
If Xing really was somehow a part of him now, then she shouldn't need to hear his voice to understand what he wanted her to know.
Hei wondered what she would look like now. She would have been twenty today; a grown woman. By the time of her disappearance, she'd only just been venturing into the realm of puberty; she'd changed quite a lot in that last year. How much more would she have changed? She'd be taller, probably. Not reaching his height, but perhaps taller than Misaki. That was strange to consider; in his head, Xing was still a little girl of nine, no matter how much she'd grown up since she'd become a contractor.
Her ninth birthday was the last birthday that they'd celebrated together. Mother had made her a huge bowl of noodles at breakfast, to wish her a long and happy life. After Father had gotten home from work that evening they'd all gone over to the Xu residence, where Grandmother had made enough sweet rice balls to feed ten families. Even Jiang and Hei together hadn't been able to finish them off.
Mother and Father had gotten her a first-aid kit, so that she could practice being a nurse; that was what she wanted to be when she grew up. Well, she'd wanted to be a hundred different things; but nurse always came out on top.
Hei had bought her a silk scarf, red with blue flowers. She'd worn it every day that spring until the weather had turned too hot. And even then Mother had had to take it away to keep her from wearing it out in the summer heat.
On her tenth birthday, Hei had stolen a cute stuffed pig from a street vendor down the road from the Syndicate's training facility in Hong Kong. Bai had looked at it blankly and asked why he'd chosen something so easy to practice his lifting skills. She'd put it in her foot locker in the barracks and never looked at it again. For all Hei knew it was still there, mystifying each new assignee to that bunk.
He sighed to himself, wondering if she would still love sweet rice balls. Would she still have popped an entire tangyuan into her mouth, then chased after him for a sticky kiss on the cheek? He smiled. Probably.
Well, Xing would have. Bai…Bai would have carefully eaten each one, held elegantly at the tips of her chopsticks. Every movement that Xing had made had been playful; as a growing young contractor, that playfulness had turned to a deadly sort of grace.
Amber had called her lovely. No man - contractor or human - had ever commented on her appearance within Hei's hearing. It wasn't like he'd actively discouraged it; most people had just tended to stay away from the both of them.
He wondered if, were she still alive, she would have had a boyfriend by now. Or girlfriend, perhaps; as a contractor, she hadn't shown herself to be predisposed towards one or the other. In any case, whoever she might have found would have been lucky to have her.
Xing would have been over the moon to welcome Misaki into the family, to have a sister. Bai would have respected her, Hei thought. Liked her even.
He smiled to himself. What contractor wouldn't appreciate Misaki's implacable rationality?
His watch beeped, startling him back to the present. Glancing at the time, he realized that the wushu competition had already started; he'd spent more time here than he'd expected. Time to go.
"Happy birthday, Xing," he said quietly into the empty chamber.
As he turned to go, a whisper froze him in his tracks. No…not a whisper. More like a…feeling. A feeling that said, Come back again.
He smiled sadly. "I will. I'm sorry it took me so long."
Then, feeling like an idiot for talking to an empty room, he left.