Chapter 27

Content warning: drug use.

Hello all! Happy New Year! I've finished writing the story and am now editing before posting…let me know in the review section if you want some more chapters by this weekend. Thank you for your support!

"Make sure you keep that bite dry!" Temurin reminds his patient. Leaning against a wooden porch beam, Temurin lifts a hand in farewell as the young man departs for home. The afternoon sunlight sparkles brightly off piles of melting snow, forcing Temurin to squint at the figure retreating down the road. The day is open and still. Aside from the steady drip, drip of snow melting off the roof, all is quiet. Temurin rests his head against the wall and inhales. In and out. The air is cold and fresh, burning his nostrils. The melting world all around him seems so peaceful: if he closes his eyes and listens, he can even hear the faint roar of the Qima river. He remembers diving into those deep, chaotic waters as a boy—losing himself in the rush, immersed in the strange, silent underwater world. How long has it been since he last swam there? Back then, the underwater quiet let him imagine the adventures he could have, the places he could visit, the things he could do.

Now, the silence only allows his doubts and fears to bubble to the forefront of his mind. Should he continue to travel when the winter's over? Or should he stay? The thought of remaining in Qima, being trapped in the same town where he was humiliated, fills him with nausea. Seeing Jinlian and her lover every day…impossible. Temurin slides down the wall and sits down heavily. But being separated from Haojun forever? Even more impossible. A bird calls from the nearby forest: a lonely, single cry. As a boy, he always wanted to leave Qima. But it seems that destiny has brought him inexorably back.

Slumped on his childhood porch, Temurin tries to examine the broken fragments of his life. His failed marriage, his daughter, and his mother all tie him to Qima. Yet other threads tug him away from here: Jirou's medical training, the people who depend on his visits for medical care, and his dangerous and uneasy alliance with Zhao and Mila. After a week without hearing from them, perhaps Zhao has forgotten him. Perhaps Mila told Zhao that Temurin isn't interested in revolution. Or perhaps Zhao is biding her time, and will kill him in his sleep for not spying on Mayor Sota. Who knows. The thought of his impending death though, brings to mind two more pieces of his life that Temurin can't quite make sense of. Nekana and Altan. Altan is sticking around because of Nekana; that much is obvious. But why is Nekana still here? She doesn't have anything to do—except teach Wakaba-until he moves on. One hopeful motivation pops into his head, but Temurin quickly crushes the idea. Then, guiltily, he realizes that with all the chaos and turmoil of moving back home, dealing with Jinlian, and trying to regain Haojun's trust, he hasn't spoken to Nekana alone in weeks. Every time he sees her, she's been distant and vague. Why is she staying?

Temurin rises and prowls back inside. His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the comparative darkness, purple swirling before his eyes. To be honest, ever since his…dream about Nekana, he's avoided her. His life is already too complicated. And there are important things to do. Like the laundry. Grabbing a woven basket, Temurin slides open the door to the mens' bedroom, where sure enough, Altan and Jirou have left a pile of dirty clothing in the corner of the mat floor. Temurin throws the clothes in the basket and heads into the next room. Nekana too has carelessly left her clothes on top of her folded bedroll, probably assuming someone will wash it for her. That's so like her. Temurin leans over to snatch her olive-green shirt off the floor, but as he does so, a faint but familiar scent catches his attention. Is that…

He holds the shirt in his hands and, numbly, inhales deeply. The sickly-sweet scent of yapian is unmistakable. And, with a dawning sense of horror, he realizes. There's only one reason why Nekana's clothes would reek of yapian.

The front door slides open with a soft bang.

"Temurin?" Nekana's voice floats in from the back of the house.

Slowly, as if in a nightmare, Temurin stands, Nekana's shirt held limply in his hand.

"Kana."

She appears in the door frame, and in a single rush Temurin sees all the things he'd been blind to: her too-thin wrists, the gaunt sharpness of her jaw, and her haunting, hollow golden eyes.

This is all his fault.

"What's wrong?" Nekana asks, stepping forward. She reaches one hand out. Touches his shoulder with thin fingers. What have I done?

"I—" Temurin lifts Nekana's shirt helplessly. "I found this."

"You found my shirt," Nekana says blankly. "Well yes, I live here."

"Nekana, I know," Temurin blurts out. Instantly, her eyes narrow. Nekana takes a sharp step backwards, raising her hands in a defensive position.

"Know what?" she says quietly. Her gold eyes glimmer over her clenched fists. Does she think he would hurt her? Temurin's heart clenches.

"Nekana, I'm sorry," he says painfully. "It's my fault you've been using yapian, if I hadn't—"

"If you hadn't been a drug dealer, I would have never tried it?" Nekana laughs. But for some reason, she looks relieved, and she lowers her hands. "I'm not your daughter, Temurin. You're not responsible for my choices. Stop making this about yourself."

Temurin steps back like she slapped him. "What are you talking about?" he demands.

"Oh please. You're so self-obsessed that you don't even notice what happens in your own home. How long did it take you to realize Jinlian was cheating? Or that I've been smoking yapian?" She snorts. "No wonder Jinlian left. You're a selfish, self-absorbed child, so obsessed with money you never considered how selling illegal drugs would affect the people around you."

"Enough," Temurin says harshly.

"Did you know Haojun wants to live with her mother?" Nekana continues. "She wishes you never came back—"

"I said, enough!" Temurin shouts. "This isn't about me! This is about you!"

"Oh, so now are you going to tell me how disappointed you are?" Nekana says, raising her voice. "How much I'm wasting my abilities?" She clutches her heart. "Oh no, if you don't approve of me, what will I do?"

"You're right, I don't approve!" Temurin yells. "Someone I love is killing herself, how could I be okay with that?" He breathes heavily. Losing his temper won't help her. "I'm a doctor. Let me fix this!"

"Fix this? Fix me, you mean?" Nekana laughs bitterly. She approaches so she's barely a foot away from. "Men are always trying to fix me!"

"Well maybe if you accepted help, you wouldn't be here!"

"One man's help resulted in me rotting in an insane asylum for a year!" Nekana yells up into his face.

"Well I'm not him! So let me in!" Temurin takes a step forward, and Nekana slams her hand into his chest. He flies through the paper wall into the main living room and hits his head hard on the tatami floor. All the wind is knocked out of him, and he sees Nekana through the torn wall, her face swimming amongst stars. Her expression is horrified, her shock matching his own. She hit me. Panic courses through his veins. But without air he can only gasp helplessly as Nekana runs to his side. She hit me!

"Temurin—I'm sorry-" Nekana says desperately, kneeling down next to him. Is she crying? Temurin can't tell, everything is swirling. She pulls him upright so he's leaning with his back against her chest, and with a rattling gasp Temurin inhales his first precious breath of air.

"I'm sorry—"

"Temurin?" Altan's voice filters in from outside. "Temurin, what was that?"

Nekana's head snaps up like a cornered animal. Pausing only to lower him carefully to the floor, Nekana jumps up and escapes through the back kitchen door. As the edge of her army coat disappears around the corner, Altan barges into the house. Temurin drags himself to his hands and knees.

"Temurin!"

"Nekana," Temurin wheezes. "Altan…follow her."

"What?" Altan crouches in front of Temurin, looking more confused than ever. For some reason, he's wearing the green uniform of an Earth Kingdom soldier.

"Nekana is using-yapian," Temurin pants. "I found out. We fought. My fault. You need to find her…"

Altan sits back on his heels. "Now isn't a good time," he says coldly, not showing a hint of surprise at the news that his pretend-wife is poisoning herself. For the second time in half an hour, realization washes over Temurin like icy river water.

"You knew," he says hoarsely.

"I can't deal with this right now," Altan says. "Bigger things are happening."

"What?" Temurin snaps. "Altan, you bastard, she's upset and is probably on her way to use! You're supposed to love her-go find her, now!"

"I really—"

"Now!" Temurin fills with a rage he's only felt once before. What is wrong with Altan? What is wrong with everyone? "She ran out the kitchen door. Find her!"

Scowling, Altan obeys and hurries to the door. It's only when the younger man turns around that Temurin notices the broadsword strapped to Altan's back.