I wonder if it's easier to shoot a particular scene in a movie than write that same scene in a book. Is foreshadowing easier? Cameos?

0o0o0o

When Yao got to the observatory, the Russian leader was already there. He was writing on a device, leaning casually against the wall. He looked up when Yao came in. Yao tried to look nonchalant, to avoid the man's gaze and simply keep an eye on him. If he appeared to start to leave, Yao reassured himself, then and only then would he intervene. Otherwise, he'd go through the paces of a rudimentary check on gravity wells, foreign objects, and temperatures.

He set about scanning and recording, the motions so familiar they were automatic. He quietly thanked his former self for insisting on handling the observatory himself. He could run the more delicate tests without his advisors' help.

In the corner of his eye, he could see the Russian leader, who was still watching him as a bird of prey might a particularly interesting quarry. He had watched Ivan like this back when they didn't trust so easily, always wary, always keeping back to where Ivan's blue eyes weren't quite as intense. However, Ivan had always only ever watched him with deep interest, not this casual attention.

Yao missed how Ivan looked at him. He pushed the feeling away. He had to focus.

'Nobleman Yao.'

Yao took a secret deep breath before meeting the leader's blue eyes, trying to appear unruffled. 'Hello. I realize we haven't talked much.'

'I have been busy, yes. And I expect you have been, too.' The man laughed, the motion practiced, and ran a hand through his dark hair. 'With your ambassador.' Yao's brain supplied images of heated skin and soft breaths and Ivan's voice in his ear. He could feel his chest grow warm.

'Natalya,' he managed. 'She's been very helpful. Thank you.'

'Helpful, yes. I hope so.' The man fell silent again, scrutinizing every inch of Yao's face.

Yao returned to his tests, mind too occupied with Ivan to really think of what he was doing.

'You've already scanned that area,' the voice behind him suggested softly. Yao refused to meet his eyes and subject himself to his raptor's gaze again.

'My apologies. I have been distracted ever since my brother's passing,' he said delicately. The man behind him laughed apologetically.

'Anyone would be. It's a terrible tragedy.' Yao could hear the rustle of his clothes. 'Nobleman Yao, have you ever thought what will happen if we do not cure the virus before the Second generations turn into the Third?'

Yao stilled, distractedly closing the scans again. 'I do not normally dwell on such matters.'

'And yet that is our duty as leaders.' The man was nearly beside him now, and yet Yao could feel none of the heat that Ivan brought. He wondered if it was because of the machinery and found he didn't care. All that mattered was that it, he was not here.

'We are young,' Yao said. The man beside him shook his head gravely.

'Not that young.'

'What would you intend to do?'

A flash of teeth, a curling dread in Yao's stomach that replaced the flushed heat from before. 'I'm sure you've heard your advisors suggest it. Quarantine?'

'We already quarantine anybody who's affected.'

'You allow anybody to see them. Even with the masks, people could be affected. Especially in later stages.'

Yao internally berated himself for allowing the conversation to turn this way, but at the very least, Ivan's leader was distracted. Then the reality of what the man had said sunk in.

'You would ban the deathbed visits?'

'If it cured the virus.'

'The virus has always been a death sentence. It is a comfort to be able to speak with them.'

'There are still video calls,' the man added. Yao shook his head.

'It's not the same. My little brother!' he exclaimed, knowing his voice was too loud and not being able to lower it. 'If I hadn't been able to see him, I-'

'Wouldn't have been able to kill him with the machinery.'

Yao fell silent.

'Your protege did a good job of covering it up. Did you think of how nobody seemed to mention in what state Leon died?' Without pausing for an answer, he leaned closer. 'The story getting out would certainly remove your power, and ban your protege from ever taking your position. But I feel like the guilt is enough, Yao.'

The room was cold. Utterly devoid of Ivan's warmth, cold as the endless space surrounding them.

'Leon's ghost has no power over me,' Yao growled. 'Release the story. See who believes you.' The man's eyes were blue, too, but galaxies different than Ivan's. He did not retort again, just watched.

'We would need funds for the quarantine,' he said softly. Another flare of anger in Yao's chest. Of course. The quarantine didn't matter.

'I will not strip any family of an opportunity to say goodbye.'

'Would you want to say goodbye to Braginsky?' the man questioned. Yao went cold until he swore his breath would condense in the air.

'What are you saying?'

'He should be coming back from the files room now,' he said, looking at the clock for his device. 'You should go meet him.'

Panic, fear, rage. Who? Natalya? It had to be her; molten rage ignited him again-

'Not Natalya,' the man said softly. Yao grasped for answers, casting frantically, frantically, the world barely held together until he remembered something that sent a hot knife ripping through the fragile seams.

Kiku, pushing his paperwork to the side, returning a heavy book at the bottom to the shelf with a frown.

The man's answering smile told him everything. The listening device that had been pushed aside in the scorched aftermath of Leon's death. The paperwork piling up on his desk, obscuring the book that had been removed in time for Yao to put everyone he cared about in danger.

Ivan was in danger, he thought dizzily.

'If you really want to know, Natalya guessed you'd call her. She sent you here for me to offer you his deal.' With a light laugh no longer court-mandated, he walked away, leaving Yao alone and cold, cold as the endless space outside.

'Please.'

'Go meet Ivan, nobleman Yao,' the man urged gently. 'And do not tell him what has happened.'

Yao ran.

0o0o0o

Ivan turned a corner and found Yao rushing towards him.

'Yao?'

Yao slowed to a stumbling walk before him, eyes scrutinizing his face. Then he collapsed into Ivan's embrace, releasing a ragged breath against his soft coat.

'You made it.'

'I'm safe,' he agreed, pushing Yao's hair out of his face. His amber eyes were dark and troubled. 'What's wrong?'

'What was in the files? Are you-are you on death row?'

'I do not think so, but I could have missed it,' Ivan said, pulling the folder from his coat. Yao raised an eyebrow at him before pushing at his hands.

'Back to my-to your rooms. This is too exposed.'

'Of course.'

When they got there, Ivan set down the folder and ran a hand through Yao's ponytail. After a moment of hesitation, the slighter man relaxed into it, and he began to slide off the elastic.

'What are you doing?'

'Hold still.'

Ivan bent closer to secure the tie and whispered 'Thank you for distracting him.'

Yao turned towards him, one coppery eye sharply outlined in his dark profile. Something dark and sad welled in his eyes, and he pulled Ivan closer to press their mouths together.

When they broke apart, the darkness still held in his eyes. Ivan traced a hand on his cheek, but Yao reached for the folder. He flipped it open. Ivan didn't stop him. It felt oddly intimate but surreal, with this sharp, beautiful man holding his entire history in his hands.

'How did you get to this?' he asked quietly.

'I drugged the guards with gas. It also affected everyone inside.'

Yao kept looking through the file, but something hummed at the back of Ivan's mind. He repeated the words, replayed the scene of what had happened-

His sister. Katyusha, how she hadn't been affected-or hadn't been fazed by the sleeping workers and guards. Her odd warning to leave, all swept away in the adrenaline of running away.

'Ivan,' Yao insisted. He looked down. Yao grimaced up at him with a wince. 'Please let go.'

'Katyusha,' he breathed. She had been sent, perhaps by his leader, to warn him away. And yet he hadn't left then. What if he had? But how did his leader know he would be there?

'Ivan!' Yao demanded. 'Let me go!'

Like rising from a daze, he let go, and Yao moved his shoulder cautiously, glaring at him. 'What was that for, Ivan?'

Yao glaring at him, Yao hurt by his hands. The sight horrified him, made his stomach turn to acid.

'I'm sorry,' he said. His thoughts were too jumbled to figure out anything, and now worry and fear threaded inside the rhythm. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's fine.' Yao held him gently, like Ivan might break. When really, he was the fragile one, spiny and holding secrets like sunflower buds hold summer in their petals. 'What did you think of?' Ivan gazed at him and something inside whispered to keep Yao just a little bit less worried for a little bit longer, that he'd tell in the morning.

'That you look sad.'

'Hmm.' Yao absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair. 'I guess I am.'

This time, Ivan was the one who initiated their kiss with a whisper of 'Could I heal that?'

Yao let him trace patterns like dragon tails along his arms and laughed, said 'Please.'

The darkness in his eyes was still there, but the more Yao fell into him, the more Ivan ran his hands over the planes of his body, the less it was visible. He was cold, cold as space, Ivan thought before he was able to bring Yao back to himself, to his warmth and fire and brightness.

Yao gave himself over to Ivan, let him pull away the veils, cut away the guards, to alight embers in his chest. The warning from before echoed in his mind, in every place where there was space between them, and so Yao pressed closer to him, prayed and wished and hoped that no matter what the forces neither of them could control decided, Ivan's humming breaths would continue.

He was the leader of the Middle fleet. Surely he could save one person. Surely, no matter how many times he'd failed saving before.

0o0o0o

Natalya was awake again. This was nothing new. Normally, it would have been because she was at her desk, or called out for a meeting, or reading. It had been years since she was awake for this reason. Simply, her mind would not let her sleep, and lying awake doing nothing was wasting time that could never be recovered in the court.

But nonetheless, Natalya was awake. Guilty, sides rubbed raw from shifting to try to find comfort, staring up at the ceiling. Her mind replayed her conversation with Yao. Maybe she should have warned him.

And her brother. He was almost certainly on death row now, and the thought made her stomach twist. Perhaps from jealousy, perhaps from convenience. Not for any particular reason, she guessed, which made it all the worse.

What's done was done, she tried to justify. The nobleman and the ambassador-former ambassador-had made their choices and she had made hers.

But the guilt wouldn't let her go, pushed her out of bed until her feet were hurting cold against the floor, reaching for the device on her table. Perhaps she could fix something. If she gave them a chance, god knew Yao was clever enough to find a way. Their conversation repeated in her head, but this time, it held a touch of hope. Maybe. Maybe she could fix things.

Not for nothing.

Never for nothing.

Perhaps the debt could be repaid by saving her brother.

She picked up the device and dialed.

0o0o0o

I feel like books are more sudden and real and sharp when they need and want to draw all of your attention to the way one character reacts and lives and thinks. There is much less of a 'passing mention' in words. I like that.

:: Waking up slowly, peacefully, warm and hovering just on the edge of falling back asleep