█ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ | __________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Tarenlu pressed two fingers against his chest, gingerly tracing the fading outline of the bruise stamped on his skin. In its center was a scar like a singular eye that leered at him; a semi-permanent gift from his time in the Underground and a burning reminder of his failure. And he had failed. Failed to do little more than lie unconscious on the floor of that cavern. Failed to stop a man who could not bend. Failed Jin, who once again had to step in to cover for his inexperience. A recurring theme it seemed in the Underground. He’d failed Zhen and not least of all, failed Kata. So much had gone wrong in so little time and Nelu hadn’t done what he could to stop it. Maybe if he had, if he’d paid more attention, been more strict, maybe he would have been able to prevent one of their own from leaving. But he hadn’t and now his team was all the lesser for it. This scar on his chest was one he deserved. Same as the others.
Across his body, splitting tattoos or covered by them, were the stories of his life that had been carved into skin. Long healed lacerations across his back. A thin line that had been drawn across his chest by the point of a knife. There was the smooth, pin-point crater near his shoulder where a gunman had found their mark and a second just above his hip. On his left arm just below the elbow was a now obscured burn mark, covered by the body of a snake coiling across his forearm, outlined in black ink. Long forgotten cuts and bruises and broken bones healed and broken and healed again. Pieces of himself, both physical and mental, taken by others that he could never recover again.
And then there was the scar under his rib. A long gash, well hidden which at the time seemed like it’d been a stroke of luck, at least until the blood began to soak through his shirt. Nelu was sure he was dead. Not from the wound itself but from him having to explain the ‘how’ he’d gotten it to people whose trust with him was already running thin. He knew why. He knew what he was. It was a miracle that his mother and father allowed him to live, let alone visit home and spend any amount of time with his sister. A part of that was pragmatic, he was sure. Despite their distaste for him, having favor with the RSF was far more preferable than nothing gained from a child lost. The other part of it was Vasra herself who longed to spend time with him, regardless of whatever it was about her older brother they kept feeding her. But she was young and neither a child’s wants nor rationality was enough to protect him forever. Nelu knew there would be no way to convince them that he was still safe to be around, especially when it was his idea to allow Vasra to ride on handlebars while going down hill. There was no good way to slice it. It had been irresponsible of him and could have led to her being seriously injured if he hadn’t been able to grab her during their bail.
At the time, he had thoughts of clotting the wound himself and tossing the shirt. Or burning the shirt and tossing the bike. Anything just to be sure there was no evidence of an accident. Maybe he could buy a new one, he posited. There was a bike store not far from where they lived and they were sure to still carry the same model as it was fairly new. But as his mind began to race, parsing through every possible way he could avoid the inevitable, a worried little sister would interrupt. He could still remember exactly where she placed her hand and the warmth that spread from there. Even now as he traced the scar with the edge of his finger could he feel it. Mistress Dizzy "Hey Nelu?" A soft knock broke the silence. "Is my binder in there?" Jin's voice echoed through the barrier of the bathroom door. Exit Nelu tore himself away from the well of thoughts opening beneath him and allowed himself a brief moment of shame for having forgotten he had company. So lost in his thoughts was he that he’d practically left the apartment altogether. He did a passing scan of the bathroom, which was rather quick considering its small size, and noticed on the ground the binder in question. ”Yeah. You can come in,” he said, bending down to pick it out of the pile of clothing it was tangled among. Mistress Dizzy "Thanks." Jin slipped in the bathroom behind him with a half smile, wearing a loose shirt and shorts that served as pajamas. They took the binder and tucked it under their arm before peering up at him. "...I left you some tea. Still hot, probably." A soft but distinct worried gaze met his.
"You look wiped." Jin subtracted what little space the bathroom had left, pressing their body against his side. Their hand found his, and squeezed. "Are you still hurting?" Jin's own scars were not as obvious, but the borrowed shirt half sliding down their shoulder showed the dun plum of half healed bruises and covered cuts. Most alarming was the distinct mark of a smooth metal hand, around Jin's throat. The mark of survival was still an irritated red against their brown skin, bothering them when they spoke or ate.
It was ugly and it hurt. But they were still alive.
"Oh! I could get you some CCC - the cans with whatsername's face on it are 50% off. They're trying to clear out all her merch, after all the firebending shit. The caffeine still works though." Exit “I don’t need it,” he replied with a small smile, his eyes holding onto Jin but very gradually gliding to the parts of them that were exposed. ”And definitely not from her. I’ll take the tea.” Mistress Dizzy "Eh, doesn't matter to me who's face is on it. A sale's a sale." They shrugged indifferently, but a flinch and hiss of pain marred the gesture. Exit Under white fluorescent lights, he could clearly see the parts of them that had been marked. The bruises left by the hurt they had endured. Again, his mind lingered on what could have been had he done more. How much pain could he have saved them from? Why were they so quick to forgive? To stand in that small space with him and press their bruised and broken body against his?
He let go of their hand and brought his up to the edge of their chin, pressing gently against it to tilt their head slightly up and to the side. Their closeness was making the angle awkward, but he refused to create space even if it meant getting a better look. ”What about you?” he asked, very carefully tracing the edge of the handprint that had been left behind. ”This still looks pretty bad…” Mistress Dizzy Jin leaned their face into Nelu's palm, clearly savoring the warmth of his touch. "It's not the worst injury I've ever had." The statement was true, but not the answer that they knew Nelu wanted. The story came out anyway. "When I was 10, I broke my ankle trying to climb the ring wall. Missed a handhold and fell three stories into a trash cart. Surgeon said I shoulda broken my neck falling that far." A weary smile crossed their face at the memory. "Once I was upright, Lady Cho beat my scrawny ass raw in front of all the spirits and whores with her iron fan. Said her night hours were way too expensive to sit up worrying about an idiot kid. My ankle still hurts in the winter. That was the worst injury I've ever had." Exit ”And this one?” Mistress Dizzy "This is the second. Feels like his hand is still there - but I'm here and he ain't. I'll heal." Their green eyes strayed, lingering on Nelu's chest. Then they leaned forward and pressed a kiss just shy of the wound that Shao had left him. "M'sorry. If I was half as smart as you tell people I am, I would have realized we were walkin' into that. That we should have been terrified of Hunang." Softly, Jin pressed their forehead against his chest. Whether it was to feel his solid warmth, or to hide the shame on their face, Jin couldn't say.
"The Lower Ring, the Underground. That's supposed to be my turf, but I nearly got us both killed." Their voice shook as they swallowed painfully. "I… If I had…" The weight of confession hung in the space between them.
"I know you wanted me to leave and call for backup. But I didn't think it'd work so I ignored your plan. Thought I could make my own. And I was wrong, and we almost died, I failed, I failed you-" The sudden onset of tears made speaking impossible. Jin's confession had been reduced to a wheezing whisper. Exit Nelu’s hand moved from the bruise around their neck to their cheek where he scraped away a tear. ”Jin…” he began, carefully cupping their head in his hands and tilting their head back just enough so they could meet his eyes. ”We are only alive because you did what you did. If you had listened to me… odds are…” Nelu leaned in slowly, his eyes dropping from theirs and lingering on their slightly parted lips. ”I wouldn’t be able to do this…” he whispered, pressing his lips against theirs. Mistress Dizzy Jin raised up on their toes to receive his kiss, guilt and desire twisting together in their belly. Exit It was a gentle exchange, not hungry but earnest in his desire to appreciate them, especially now that he had the chance. He wanted them to understand that they were only given that chance because events unfolded the way they did. He’d nearly been robbed of this, and knowing what he knew now, of the experience given to him for simply allowing himself to want, he knew he wouldn’t have changed anything.
Nelu was loath to allow Jin to feel any amount of guilt, but when they’d finally allowed each other a moment to breathe, Nelu expressed his own. ”I’m sorry I let him hurt you. I should have been better. I will be better.” Mistress Dizzy He was right. In the end, how they survived didn't matter so much as that they had.
"I will be too. I promise." They let their fingers trace the lines of his tattoos, as if reminding themselves that he was here, and real. "I've got a lot to do today. Business with Doctor Li, got to see a man about a horse, some other stuff. But once I'm done," The question was uncertain. "Can… can I come back?"
______________________________________”Come back?” Exit ”A horse?”_________”When are you coming back?” Mistress Dizzy Jin winked at him. "You'll find out." | █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ █ |