His eyes kept slipping shut. He had not slept all night and the morning had been long and trying.

Everyone had been evacuated from the train onto the tracks. Eventually another train had pulled to a stop next to them. Transport police had cordoned off the area and officers had been going through the passengers taking statements as the sun cracked a wide dawn over the barren flat landscape. Amidst the long shadows and strained colours of morning he and Tomas had drifted in and out of sight, avoiding all questions and official records. When the passengers had eventually been herded onto a new train and the journey to St Petersberg allowed to continue, they had slipped aboard unnoticed. By the time the train finally got moving they were four or five hours behind schedule. Tomas had wondered out loud whether that was a good thing to throw off their enemies, or bad as it might mean missing their rendezvous with Sub-Zero. Kuai Liang had said nothing. His head was still reeling from the night's events.

A familiar emptiness lay heavy upon him. Emotions he wished he could feel did not come. There was only silence inside him, untouched and unaffected by the lives he had taken. All the world was a distant flat canvas, meaningless and unreal. His eyelids drooped as light warmed them. Sliding orange colours and a hot sun pushing through the glass were the last things he thought of as his head slipped onto the shoulder beside him.

He jerked awake when the train rushed into darkness.

"Just a tunnel," Tomas' voice reassured him.

Kuai blinked and rubbed sleep from his eyes.

"We're twenty minutes off St Petersberg."

Kuai nodded curtly. Unbidden, an image flashed before his eyes. A woman in a green woollen jumper crouched in the shadows under a table. Red blood pooling around her. Large terrified eyes staring at him. But it wasn't terror, was it. It wasn't fear. It was disgust. Betrayal. Hurt. Disappointment. Sadness. He shook his head.

His canvass bag on the opposite overhead luggage rack was stained dark brown all along the bottom. He stared disengaged at the blood seeping into all his belongings.

"We should be careful getting off the train," Tomas was saying, "If they sent people to stop us at Moscow they'll probably be keeping an eye on St Petersburg station, even with the delay to our service. I can turn into smoke, but you're going to have to be more careful."

"I do not need smoke in order to remain unseen."

"Of course, of course. I'm just saying we need to be careful-"

"Careful like you were in the night, when you almost ended up impaled on the end of my knife?"

Tomas looked at him with one eyebrow raised. Kuai sighed and looked out the window,

"I'm tired. Sorry."

"Listen, Kuai, about what you said earlier in the dining car-"

"I was tired then too."

"I... I know, but I just wanted to say-"

"Tomas. Leave it."

He saw his friend's shoulders sink out the corner of his eyes. Kuai closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the glass. The moment he handed over responsibility for all this to Bi-Han couldn't come soon enough. There were too many unguarded emotions and mistakes flying about. He couldn't seem to do anything with the finesse and precision he wanted. He kept doubting his own actions and second-guessing his decisions. Even when he had let his training take over and tried to follow protocol down to the letter, he had somehow still felt frustrated with himself.

"I wasn't going to tell Bi-Han."

Tomas sounded awkward and apologetic. Kuai turned to look at him. He was glancing away and trying to hide behind a silver curtain of hair.

"About the woman, I mean. The one under the table."

"I know what you meant."

"Okay. Good." Tomas squinted into the mid distance.

There was a prolonged silence. Then,

"Thanks."

"No problem." Tomas finally sounded relieved.

The train rattled through another tunnel. When they emerged they were in a criss-cross of rail lines, bordered on both sides by standing heavy goods trains and industrial warehouses.

"You got a plan for how we want to move?" Kuai asked.

"Yes!" Tomas seized on the change in topic. He pulled out his map. "I'll teleport out the train before it stops and scout ahead. I'll make sure we've got a clean route and see if there's a nearby hotel we can check into. Where did Sub-Zero say he'd meet us?"

"He didn't."

Tomas' enthusiasm drained a little.

"He'll find us. Don't worry about that." Kuai squinted up at the sky as best he could through the window. It was overcast, but the rain had stopped.

"Are you sure? I don't want to get into any more trouble than we're already in."

"You? Don't want to get into more trouble? Never thought I'd hear those words out your mouth."

"Kuai, I'm serious. Sub-Zero doesn't fuck around, and we've already-"

Tomas cut himself off. Neither of them had any desire to go over the missions failures again. A strained quiet took them all the way into St Petersberg. Soon it was time.

"Will you t-"

"I'll take both the bags."

Tomas nodded. It was possible to transport the luggage in his smoke form, but he would need all his stealth and subtlety to clear a path for Kuai. He nodded one more time then left.

Kuai felt strangely empty as soon as Tomas was gone. He should have said goodbye, he thought suddenly. This could be the end for both of them. He had been short tempered and unfair with his friend. If it all ended in the next few minutes, would that really be how he wanted to leave things? He thought about running after him. Unprofessional. He could as good as hear Bi-Han in his head. Tomas would be long gone without Kuai to slow him down anyway. Have I done anything on this mission but slow it down? He closed his eyes, but as he did so his mind flicked to a red lit corridor thick with smoke. There were wide eyeballs swivelling under a dark helmet visor as he plunged a blade through a mouth and stuck it all the way through to the back of a skull. Did it go through the tongue? No, there would have been more blood. I must have gone above the tongue. It stabbed through so easily. I'm not as out of shape as I worried I'd be, spending so long away from the Temple. He sickened himself. The back of an enormous pink and white façade building drew into view beyond the train window.

He stood and ran a finger over the underside of his canvas bag. The blood was dried at least. He slung one bag over each shoulder and secured them across his chest. He ducked the entry way and nearly walked straight into an old man. He opened his mouth to apologise before realising he did not know the language. He stopped when his eye caught sight of shabby overcoat and the bright green of a knitted jumper further down the corridor. He swivelled and walked in the opposite direction, leaving the old man cursing. He had been hoping to walk to the end of the train and hop off early while it was still moving. There were lots of reasons that was a bad plan, he justified to himself as he walked away from that haunting green sweater.

The corridors were flocking with tired passengers ready to depart. His intimidating size and baggage did not part the crowds as it had in Belgrade. Damn. He pushed his way towards one of the doors as the train slowed. The platform was long, wide and impressive. Conspicuous police officers in black patrolled the platform. There were mass murders on the train we changed from. This could be a reasonable response. And yet nowhere on their uniforms could he see any sign of lettering. Or badges. Unmarked. Damn again. He pushed back from the door, much to the rumble of frustration from his fellow passengers. Tomas was meant to clear a route for me. But there were far too many officers for that, and they were not being at all covert as they prowled up and down the platform. Kuai and Tomas had been banking on possible adversaries lying in wait. Unmarked armed guards standing so easily in the open presented a whole host of new problems. Ranu Kasun must have State complicity. Or at least the political sway to get public services to look the other way. Private armed guards. We've fucked this up incredibly well.

The train stopped. Speakers overhead consoled, apologised, and reassured in a language he could not understand. The doors opened. A river surge of passengers flowed all about him. He remained an unmoving boulder in their midst. There was no escape. Here was the train, fast emptying all around him, and there was platform, waiting before him and rigged with waiting armed guards. He was a lone, tall, muscled man with heavy gear and a foreign face. If he stepped onto that platform he might as well have had a target painted on him. I have to move. I have to move. Waiting until the train was empty would not solve his problems. Nothing would solve his problems. He felt something close to panic set in him. Think. Think. Think. A bright green jumper.

He caught her elbow as she passed him. She turned in confusion and her eyes ignited in terror.

"I can't change what you saw." He said in English as they stepped toward the door. She gave her arm a jostle to shake him off. He held on.

"I can't persuade you that what I did was justified." They stepped onto the platform. "But you should know, everything I see when I look at you makes me question who I am." She stopped trying to shake him and looked at him with hunted, wary eyes. He walked with her the first steps across the platform, eyes glued to hers. Behind her he could see uniformed guards looking over toward him. "I do not know any French, but I know there is and English word, 'clemency'. It means mercy. It's your name, isn't it." It was a closed question. An archway marked the exit from the platform into the main station. He could see it clearly in his peripheral vision. An officer in unmarked black body armour walked towards him. Kuai could see gloved fingers resting on the gun barrel as they drew close.

She nodded dumbly in response to his question. He pressed on, one hand still on her arm.

"I did not choose to be what I am. If I'd had a choice... what choices I would have made... what things I could have done..."

The officer paused, fingers hovering over his weapon trigger as they passed him. Kuai almost flinched. He steadied himself, not letting his focus wander from the flyaway brown hair of the woman before him with her peaked face and dark ringed eyes. They walked on and like that the danger was behind them. They were under the archway, armed guards still stalking the platform they had departed, clearly content the couple were not their target.

Kuai steered his frightened hostage onward. The old station building was an enormous brick construction with a modern interior. Wide grey stone floors bustled with those coming and going. The crowds thickened as they moved further in.

"When I saw your face, you reminded how wrong everything I do is. You reminded me that the people I kill are people with lives and habits and fractions of uniqueness that belong only to them. You reminded me what mercy looked like. I will not forget that."

He broke away suddenly, moving easily amidst the flow of people, away from the platforms with their guards and out of the station. Warm air, dull afternoon sun, and wide triple lane road opened up before him. He felt a brush of shadow and smoke at his elbow.

"Some help you were." He murmured.

"I had no idea what to do. I was going to try and find you and teleport you out once I worked out where those guards were. Elder Gods, Kuai, they were out in the open! In public!"

"Yes, thanks for the heads up."

"Well, seems like you found a way to handle it." Tomas led them to the right, skirting a multi-laned roundabout and aiming for one of the quieter streets.

"Thanks the gods I was able to use that woman as cover or it might have been my brains on the platform back there."

"Eh, I think you might have been able to take them. But you're right our cover would have been blown even further out the water if it had come to an open fight. Was that woman the one from before?"

"Had to be her. I saw a couple of others go by but they would have shaken me off and raised suspicion. This woman looked like she'd stay quiet if I made a profound confession to her."

"Nice."

"Where are we headed?"

"Not far. Five to ten minutes tops. If Bi-Han can't find us you can explain to Sektor tonight how-"

"I already told you, he will find us, Tomas.

"Ah yes, like some elusive mythical being, he will swoop out of the night sky and know our precise location even though we made up our plans on the fly."

"Or like China's top assassin he will have an inkling how to track down two morons running from the paramilitary having arrived in at Moscow Station, St Petersburg."

Tomas' face scrunched up in something like realisation,

"Point taken."

The hotel was another pink stone facade with imperiously arched white windows. A glass door took them into a garishly painted yellow lobby. Kuai squinted and wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Think I'm going to vomit," Tomas whispered, "What do they call that shade, Shirai Ryu yellow?"

Kuai gave him a shove but was secretly glad for the lighten in mood. He waited to one side as Tomas booked rooms. There was some kind of problem with the currency he was trying to pay in, but from what Kuai could see an exchange of money took place that seem to settle both parties. Tomas received a key and led them upstairs.

"Apparently Serbian dinar doesn't cut it in Russia. But, with the help of an extortionate exchange rate, we do now possess the right currency."

Kuai had lost interest in rectangular paper with various faces on that changed every time they crossed a border. The Lin Kuei benevolently took care of all monetary matters on behalf of their assassins. Kuai had no comprehension of the worth of even Chinese yuan. He was simply given what was needed to cover any costs he could think of and put no value in the exchange at all. He had never needed to buy anything for himself except any necessary additions whilst out on a mission. As Tomas had pointed out, the use of money on luxury tokens was officially forbidden but rarely policed. Kuai himself had never felt the need to break that particular rule, not whilst there were so many more important ones to be breaking anyway.

"I think this place comes with a breakfast balcony," Tomas grinned as they climbed the stairs. Kuai shook his head, ever perplexed at the things Tomas managed to be enthusiastic about. "I can't wait for food that doesn't taste of train or monastery. I'm hoping for pancakes. And syrup. You had syrup before?"

Kuai shook his head.

"It's like liquid sugar. But gold. Like honey but thicker. I want it with blueberries. And bacon. I read once in a book you can have all those on a pancake."

"Trust you to want a cake for breakfast."

"Kuai, a pancake isn't an actual cake." Tomas slotted the key into their door. "Most of the time I can't work out if your ignorance is endearing or embarrassing, you know."

The room as a clash of patterns that assaulted the eye. It seemed to be trying to hard to impress. Kuai decided he would never understand why a bedroom had to be anything other than functional. This one was small. Two single beds that he was sure wouldn't take his shoulder width stood with barely a foot between them. To make up for their small size they sported novelty looking wooden headboards that extended across the top of the bed and halfway down the next side wall. The quilts were a maroon pink and heavily ornate, but patterned completely differently to the cream and silver design repeated floridly across the walls. Kuai felt tired even looking at the room.

"Ah! Beds that are not moving! What a delight!"

Tomas had that right at least.

"Lets check out that open air top floor."

"Are you kidding? I'm going to have the world's longest shower. Everything stinks of blood. And it's started raining again." A thin drizzle was beginning to tap on the window pane.

Tomas was unswayed by this and bounded out the door regardless.

Everything had been moving too fast in the last few days. Kuai stood still and silent under the hot pounding water, letting the steam fill up the small bathroom and turn everything to a hot mist. He let the weight of the water massage his shoulders. He played with the air currents, exhaling cold mist and watching the warm air shudder and swirl under his influence. He let the water wash everything away: the blood, the sweat, the grime, and the more insidious things he carried with him: his fears, his guilts, his shame, his despair, his emptiness, his sorrows, his regrets. He steamed them off and tousled them with a soft white towel, damp from the humidity. Opening the door to the bed room let hot humid air burst forth. The fresh coolness of the room hit him with a refreshing blow. He opened the window and listened to the soft patter of light rain on the sill. He dressed and sighed. Tomas was still not back. He ran a hand backward through his hair, pushing dark wet strands out of his face. He reached for the room key on the desk.

A veil of washed out mist hung over the rooftops. Keen white parasols hiding treated wood tables were reduced to vague shapes on the balcony. Rows of bright flower boxes were dulled streaks of red in a grey world. Kuai wiped droplets from his face and narrowed his eyes. He could see the outline of Tomas ahead of him. There was something in his friends posture that disturbed him. It was a little too straight, a little too stiff.

And there he was.

He was ghost before him in the thin summer rain, a powerful dark outline stark against the grey sky. As he drew closer the familiar details became apparent. He was in full formal dress with a high Chinese collar increasing the severity of his stature. Cold air flushed as thick clouds through the vents in his high mask. Hard, blue eyes stared straight down at him. Kuai averted his gaze as he came to stand next to Tomas, who was sinking into a formal bow.

Kuai had no idea how long they had been conversing. Tomas' rigid formality betrayed nothing but the young man's discomfort. There was a prolonged silence.

"We thank you truly for doing this, we are honoured by your presence, Sub-Zero."

Kuai could hear all the anxiety Tomas had tried to strip from his voice.

"Are you now." Bi-Han said dryly.

Tomas straightened and swallowed. He shifted uncomfortably and Kuai knew he should say something to take the pressure off his friend. He could not bring himself to.

"You know what you need to do, Smoke."

Out of the corner of his eye Kuai saw Tomas open and shut his mouth, eyes fixed on Bi-Han, clearly waiting for Kuai so step in and save him.

"Y-yes, of course." Tomas continued. Tomas was going to be upset with him later, Kuai knew. He retreated further inside himself. Watching as if with another man's eyes as his friend bowed and instantly dispersed into wreathes of silvery smoke in the gentle rain.

Raindrops ran through his already wet hair. They slipped down his forehead and caught on his furrowed brow, sliding sideways, down onto his cheek bone, then finding the channel near his nose and gathering on his lip. There, they dripped slowly, one by one, on to the floor.

"Four thousand miles and you don't even look me in the eye?"

"I don't think I can look you in the eye ever again. I've never been so fucking embarrassed in all my life."

Bi-Han reached out and ruffled a hand through Kuai's hair. Kuai glanced up quickly in surprise at the uncharacteristic warmth. His eyes lit and a quiet, sheepish smile slipped onto his face. He let out a long, exhausted sigh and pushed his forehead slowly onto his brother's shoulder. The hand on his hair cupped his head letting him rest there for a moment. Kuai let himself savour that fraction in its entirety, closing his eyes tight to remember the texture of the material against his forehead as he was permitted the brief seconds of intimacy. Then the hand moved to his shoulder, pulling him back and looking at him. Intense, sharp eyes held him in their gaze. They were firm, but not unkind. Kuai looked away.

"Chinese military history."

Kuai's head snapped back up. A faint tinge of fear stole through him.

"Not exactly in keeping with your cover, was it." It was not a question.

Kuai swallowed,

"You... you went back to the monastery?"

His brother tilted his head in acknowledgement.

"I-... Is Brother Teador dead?" He did not even need to ask that question.

"Yes. You did adequate work on the interrogation. Seems you were listening to me at at least one point in your life."

Kuai felt his cheeks blush with the compliment despite the gruesome subject matter.

"But the second death would not have been necessary if you had kept to your cover."

The warmth faded from him and Kuai stuttered,

"S-second...?"

Bi-Han ignored him and kept talking,

"For one so committed to keeping fatalities to a minimum and not causing unnecessary civilian casualties, you certainly have some hypocritical methods."

Kuai's eyes faltered as he struggled under his brother's jugular glare,

"Y-you killed...? But no one else was involved, Bi-Han! W-why did you-"

"I may have dealt the lethal blow, but make no mistake, Kuai Liang, you killed the man. Athanasios. English. Red hair. Knew too much."

Author Note: Sorry for the delay on this chapter, the language in the first half bugged me so I clung onto it until I was happier with it. Still working on the next chapter too so might be a little wait for that one. You do finally get to meet Bi-Han now though :D I drew a picture of Kuai sleeping on Tomas to go with this chapter :p here is the link to it just delete the spaces: fav. me/ dan7s4y