For a moment Eiji had truly thought he'd lost Aurora. He had warned her not to clamber up a particular rock, turned his back for a second, and had a heart attack when he turned back around in time to hear a splash. The water closed over him, stabbing with cold, but she was fine, and he was fine, but when they returned, Ash was not.

Griffin only asked once what happened, why his father had said that he'd be ashamed, and when Ash didn't answer, their son dropped it.

Ashamed…

He really wasn't surprised Jim Callenreese had said such a thing, and yet. Eiji still wanted to cry, wanted to shield Ash from those barbs, but words were a unique weapon, impossible to block and capable of cutting in the most painful places every time, cutting with a dirty blade that would lead to a festering infection, an infection resistant to treatment.

Eiji put the kids to bed when they got back to New York, Ash carrying Aurora into the apartment since she'd fallen asleep in the car. They'd return the car to Yut-Lung in the morning. Eiji sent Yut-Lung and Sing a text with a quick summary. He said he wouldn't talk to the press & hadn't heard anything.

When Eiji got to their room, he found Ash flopped onto the bed with his shoes still on, face buried in a pillow.

"Ash, shoes," Eiji teased, tugging his husband's shoes off his feet. Ash grumbled something intelligible. "Do you want to talk about it?" He eased himself down beside Ash.

Ash hmphed, rolling over to peer up at Eiji. "How much did they hear?"

"Only the end, you saying he was ashamed enough for the both of you, and then what he said about them," Eiji said.

Ash closed his eyes. "Could have been worse, I guess."

Every time he thought of Jim Callenreese, Eiji couldn't understand how Ash and Griffin could have come from a man like that, a man who treated his sons like they were options he was tired of, a dartboard for him to hurl his own disappointments and disgust at. "Ash, it's not true."

"What's not true? That I was a whore and my kids will probably eventually find out and not exactly want to brag about it?"

"That they'd be ashamed of you. There's a difference between not wanting to brag about something and thinking that you're a bad person for it! Because you're not." Eiji glared at him. "You're not, Aslan, you're not."

Ash closed his eyes. "I told him that I wasn't ashamed anymore. It was kind of a lie."

"It doesn't have to be." Eiji lay down next to him. "You know, you're allowed to be weak in front of them. The kids. They're not going to hate you for it. Your dad was mean, again. It's okay for them to see that that hurts you, so when they're sad over some bullies at school they can know that it's okay to be hurt, and it's not something to be ashamed of—being hurt."

Ash moaned. "Are you trying to tell me to talk to Griffin?"

"Eventually." Eiji propped his chin up on his fist.

"Why are you so smart?"

"You have the IQ that's off the charts!"

"Excuse me: it is in fact, charted. Your EQ is probably equivalent."

"Well, we balance each other out then." Eiji winked. Ash leaned up to kiss him.

"I'll go talk to him." Ash pried himself out of bed.

Eiji hadn't necessarily meant right then, but he got to his feet anyways, padding down the hall to listen.

"You okay, Dad?" Griffin asked sleepily.

"Mm-hm."

Eiji peered through the crack in the door. Ash was sitting on the edge of Griffin's bed. The room was small, a gabled ceiling decorated with ink pieces Yut-Lung had helped him do, finger paintings, sketches. One of his paintings, the one of their family and Yut-Lung and Sing's family complete with that imaginary friend of Jingwei's, won a prize in the school's art fair earlier that fall.

"What you heard your grandfather saying had nothing to do with you," Ash said, hand on their son's knee. "It's an old—conflict—between me and him. He still loves you and Aurora."

"He doesn't love you, though?" Griffin sat up.

"That's not what I was saying." Ash was quiet. "He does."

Don't lie, Eiji thought.

"In his own way," Ash said. "Just not as—well as I wanted him to. Want him too, I guess."

"Why'd he say I'd be ashamed of you?" asked Griffin. "That was—mean."

"Adults can be mean, too." Ash drew in his breath. "Griffin, when you get older, I'll tell you more, okay? And it's not because of you that I don't want to tell you right now, but there are things that happened and things that I couldn't control, things that embarrassed your grandfather. Maybe they shouldn't have, but they did. And those things are—very—they hurt me, and so I don't like talking about them. They make me sad. I'll tell you when you're older, though."

"Oh." Griffin was quiet. "They hurt you?"

"Mm."

"I didn't think anything hurt you."

Ash laughed. "No, Griffin, that's not the case."

"Oh," he said again. "Did Grandpa's words hurt you today?"

"Yes," Ash admitted.

Eiji heard rustling. He spotted Griffin wrapping his arms around his father. Ash closed his arms around their son, too.

"It'll be okay," Ash assured him. "Adults have fights too sometimes, like you and Aurora."

"Have I ever embarrassed you?"

"No," Ash said firmly. "You could never. Well, don't test that theory. But no matter what you do, I am proud to call you my son. Promise."

"You know," Eiji said when Ash left Griffin's room, closing the door quietly behind him. "Every time I think I can't fall more in love with you than I already am, you prove me wrong."

Ash's face reddened, visible even in the dark.

"You're blushing," Eiji teased, hopping up to peck Ash's cheek. "We're married, Ash." But he knew. Ash would never get tired of hearing it, because he needed constant reminders. And that was okay, because Eiji was happy to provide them, because Ash lived the same words he spoke.

Ash grabbed him, hoisting him up and carrying him to their bedroom, kissing.

Ash fell asleep first, both of them sweaty and bare. Eiji closed his eyes, remembering the first time he told Ash he loved him. Golzine had been dead for months, and he and Ash were making out on one of the couches in the ridiculous apartment Ash kept because what else was he going to do with that money. Eiji could feel it in Ash's tensed fingers, the fear he was trying to fight, and he sat up, pushing Ash away.

"It's okay," he'd said. "We don't have to do anything more tonight." They hadn't gone that far yet, though they'd talked about it.

"It's okay," Ash said.

"No," Eiji said. "You're too—I can wait, Ash. However long. I'm not here for—I'm here because I love you." It just came out. He hadn't thought it was a big deal to say, because he'd already been showing Ash he loved him for well over a year now.

And Ash's eyes had popped. He turned away, burying his face in his hands.

"Are you okay?" Eiji instantly worried. Had he—

"You love me?" Ash managed.

Eiji frowned. "Yes…"

Ash's shoulders shook, and that was when it clicked for Eiji. Had anyone ever told Ash that before and meant it? Griffin, maybe. So Eiji wrapped his arms around Ash and repeated it again. "I love you."

It was a few days later when Eiji went into the bathroom to brush his teeth while Ash was showering behind the curtain, and Ash called out to him. "Hey Eiji."

"Mmph?"

"Want to join me?"

Eiji spat out the toothpaste. "Huh?"

"In the shower, if you want to. Or if you want to miss an opportunity to see whether I really do have blond—"

"Are you serious?" Eiji's pulse picked up pace. The heat from the shower wrapped around him. And he wanted to. He wanted to so much, but he didn't want Ash to do it because he felt he had to, but because he wanted to.

"Yes." Ash was quiet. The sound of water pattered around him. "Please."

Eiji slipped his shirt over his head. His heart pounded in his ribcage. He'd never been fully naked in front of another person he was attracted to. But he slipped into the shower, steam rising around them, and he and Ash looked at each other, nothing between them, no barriers, only space that could easily be crossed. Ash's gaze immediately focused on the scar on his left rib cage.

"You have so many scars," Eiji pointed out.

Ash snorted.

"And you are blonde."

Ash bopped him over the head with a shampoo bottle, and he laughed. This was how it was supposed to be, Eiji thought, playful, both of them laughing, hands running over each others' torsos, lips running along his side, Ash finally moving Eiji's hand to between his legs, drying off together and heading towards the bedroom, Eiji admitting he was nervous and Ash's eyes widening and him saying: "me, too."

And they knew then that it was okay, that they were both bumbling and hoping, arms and hands and legs entangled in hair and skin, pulses beating against each other, breaths humid and fingers interlocked. Eiji asking what to do, Ash answering, guiding each other. Their bodies met and their arms clung to each other, both anxiously checking to make sure the other was okay, panting, figuring out how to move best together, gasping, a cringe and shifting to make things more comfortable, and finally shivers running through Eiji because he was having sex with Ash and Ash was having sex with him, and their bodies were linked and something else too, something spiritual, and Ash reached to cup his face and managed, "I love you, Eiji."

And Eiji knew what Ash was thinking, feeling. Because it was never like that before for Ash, with barriers down and people not pretending to have everything figured out, but figuring it out together, more concern that they were both mentally enjoying it than physically, and instead of breaking something down they were building something up, together.

"Nothing," Sing reported, checking their phones. "Sounds like Ash's dad was a bitch, though."

"Maybe it'll just go away, then." Yut-Lung finished combing his hair. He hated Ash's father almost as much as he hated his long-dead brothers. "And that sucks." Jingwei's latest drawing was taped to his mirror. All five members of their family, plus the imaginary friend floating in the corner.

"Yeah." Sing shook his head.

"My brothers used to say the same shit about me," said Yut-Lung. "And my mother. Except they were the ones forcing me to—well. It's not much different for Ash's dad. If he'd just been a father then none of this would've happened."

"True." Sing climbed into bed, pulling Yut-Lung close. "At least you shut down Chinatown's brothels."

"Well, I'm sure they're still open, just not with any protection." Yut-Lung bit his lip. He constantly worried that by antagonizing the unwritten laws of the organized crime world, he was risking his children. But he didn't want to create more people like himself or his mother or Ash. He didn't want anyone else to go through that. It terrified him sometimes, thinking of where Mingyu, Xiaoli, and Jingwei could have ended up as kids abandoned. Just like Jim Callenreese ditched his kids.

He liked to think what he'd done would make his mother proud. Especially since he had ordered anyone listening him to leave the actual women and men working alone, and people who hurt them got punished instead. Yut-Lung handed said pimps and johns over to Charlie, usually.

"Oh, by the way," said Sing. "Mingyu has to do a project on a historical figure."

"She told me."

"She wants to do Empress Theodora. Because she says she reminds her of you."

Yut-Lung's eyes widened. "How does she even know about her?"

"She read the kids version of the story, a love story about her and Justinian, and asked me about it."

Mingyu knew about them shutting down brothels, though she probably didn't understand what it really meant because they were leaving those details out. But Yut-Lung had told them about his mother being sold to his father, and said his brothers had sold him. They didn't know what they did to his mother, nor what exactly being sold meant besides that it meant hurting them. "As long as she doesn't put that on her poster."

Sing kissed Yut-Lung's cheek and looked at him with those eyes, the eyes that suggested he wasn't just tolerant of Yut-Lung, but actually proud of him. That he liked Yut-Lung.

Yut-Lung still couldn't believe it. He reached for Sing.

Their door flew open.

And, never mind. Yut-Lung propped himself up on his elbows.

Xiaoli stood there, sniffling, her stuffed bird, the one Eiji bought her when they adopted her, clutched tightly to her chest. "I had a bad dream."

"What about?" Yut-Lung held out his arms. She headed towards him, climbing up onto his lap and burying her face in his shoulder.

"I dreamed—there were a bunch of ghosts chasing us in the house, and I couldn't find you or Jingwei or Mingyu, and so I ran to my room to hide and then I turned and there was a ghost in my window watching me, and then I woke up."

"That sounds scary," Yut-Lung said, rubbing her back.

"It was." She stuck her thumb in her mouth.

Yut-Lung removed her thumb. "It's okay, I promise." He closed his eyes. No one's going to hurt you. "There are no such things as ghosts." He hoped anyways.

Xiaoli wound up sleeping between him and Sing for the night, which meant Yut-Lung got next to no sleep, and the sleep he got was haunted by dreams of the stuffed bird turning into a demon. He also got accidentally kicked quite a few times, but that was okay. He used to crawl into his mother's bed after a nightmare too, and she would stroke his hair and sing him a Chinese lullaby.

He sang those words, soft and gentle, inside his head. He'd sung it to his kids multiple times in the past. It soothed him, hearing her voice, even if only just in his memories. And he held her grandchild.

He might not believe in ghosts, but he did believe she could see him, somewhere.

When he opened his eyes, it was to Xiaoli's stuffed bird staring him straight in the face. Yut-Lung caught himself before a swear emerged. Sing moaned, turning off the alarm. Yut-Lung dragged himself up, letting Xiaoli get an extra few minutes before getting them all ready for school. He braided Xiaoli's hair and pulled Mingyu's into the high ponytail she liked.

"Sleep at all?" Sing asked, arching an eyebrow after Yut-Lung dropped them off.

"Not really."

"Same."

"At least her nightmares are about fantasy creatures," Yut-Lung commented. Sing nodded. "All this—stuff about the reporter is making me think about things. Again."

"I know," Sing said. "I can see it on your face."

Yut-Lung scowled. "Are you saying I have wrinkles?"

"You're in your thirties now; aren't you supposed to?"

"You're walking to work!" Yut-Lung shrieked.

"You don't; it was a joke!" Sing yelped.

He watched the kids enter the building. "I wish I was more like Ash."

"Oh God, not again." But Sing took Yut-Lung's hand.

"He's brave, facing his father with his kids," said Yut-Lung. "I kind of want to tell Mingyu she can't do that project. Even if she doesn't directly address anything about me. I don't want her knowing about it. I don't want people hearing about it. It's all about me."

"I think that's normal," said Sing. "You can."

"You'd be mad at me."

"Not actually. Why do you think I want you to suffer?"

Yut-Lung blinked, staring at his husband, who removed the sunglasses he wore sometimes, the glasses that reminded Yut-Lung of Shorter Wong. Sing arched his brows.

You're not ashamed of me?

Yut-Lung knew it, but reminders—he nodded.

They made it to the office, where Yut-Lung crunched some budgetary numbers. His phone rang around noon.

The school. Yut-Lung rose. "Sing?"

"Yeah?" called Sing's voice from across the office.

"Come here." Yut-Lung pointed. "The school's calling."

"Oh great," complained Sing. "What did Xiaoli do now?"

"What if something happened to Jingwei?" Yut-Lung answered, putting the phone on speaker. "Hello?"

"Mr. Lee?"

"Yes. Mr. Miller?" Yut-Lung kept his tone cordial, but daggers at ready.

"Can you come down to the school with your husband?"

"What's going on?" Yut-Lung demanded. His heart picked up pace. The principal's voice sounded unusually somber. "Is—"

"We've had a serious incident. The sooner you can come, the better."

"Are they okay?" Sing demanded.

"I'd rather you—"

"Just tell me!" screamed Sing.

"Come down to the school," Mr. Miller repeated.

Yut-Lung grappled for the keys. Sing already had them, sprinting for the door. Fear jumped up Yut-Lung's throat. Xiaoli wouldn't have done anything violent, serious enough to warrant that tone. What if that stupid other kid had shoved Jingwei down a flight of stairs, or—

Sing drove. When they pulled into the parking lot, Yut-Lung leaped out before the car had even stopped running. Yut-Lung skidded to a stop at the sidewalk leading up to the brick building. Ash and Eiji stood there, frozen.

"You too?" gasped Sing.

Shit.

"Oh God," said Ash.

All four of them burst into the office, but no kids were in there, only the secretary and the principal.

"Oh, good, you're all here," eked out Mr. Miller.

"Yes," Ash said. "We are."

"What the hell is going on?" demanded Yut-Lung. "You call us from work and—"

"We've already called the police, but—"

"What?" screeched Sing.

"—neither Mingyu nor Griffin came back from recess today, and we've searched the school and the woods around the blacktop, but we haven't been able to find them."

Silence. Yut-Lung felt the words constricting his chest, suffocating him.

"They're missing," added Mr. Miller, as if that was remotely helpful.

Eiji let out a cry, stumbling back against the wall.

"What the fuck are you talking about? How does something like that happen?" bellowed Sing.

And Ash turned to Yut-Lung, his face twisted in horror by what they'd both realized.

We weren't careful enough.

We failed our kids.

This reporting—it's related. Somehow.

We're nothing but failures.

My daughter…

You can't hurt her! She's innocent! If you have to hurt someone, hurt me!

The principal pulled Xiaoli, Jingwei, and Aurora from their classes. Ash was on the phone, calling Blanca and Max. Eiji called Charlie, Nadia Wong's husband, a cop they actually knew and trusted. Sing called Cain and Lao, and Yut-Lung sat there, useless. He didn't even know what to tell his other daughter and son, who were both in tears, nor Aurora, who was like a niece to him.

"We don't know that it's an abduc—" started the principal.

"Yes, we do," Yut-Lung said helplessly. "Trust me. You don't have any idea of what's going on." And it's my fault!

Why did I let them go to school? Why did I not take it more seriously? Why did—

"Daddy!" screamed Xiaoli, running towards Yut-Lung. Aurora flung herself at Eiji and Ash, Jingwei at Sing. She sobbed into his shoulder. His arms felt like thorned branches that might tear her apart.

"It's okay," Yut-Lung managed, digging his hand into her hair. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

He wanted to believe it.