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“I said that I would accompany you to the end.”
Memories, painful and raw, revisited upon a watery landscape.
“I said I would keep an eye on you, just like you did in the past.”
Words, full of barbs and sarcasm, exchanged under the cover of a taunting moon.
“You chased me around the universe to ensure I paid the price.”
Blade turns his face away, finding that the fire burning in Dan Heng’s eyes is too much, even for him. A cold gaze, after all, will always burn the brightest.
“And now,” Dan Heng’s voice trembles, one breath away from anger. “You’re telling me to stay back?”
The bright flashing colors and relentless music of the Seafeld TV Tower’s studio stage surround them, the setting a stark contrast to the tone of their largely one-sided conversation. Although the room has transitioned into slightly less nauseating hues of blue, yellow, and green without the extra flashes of hot pink, the sensory overwhelm is starting to grate on Blade’s nerves. And the yellow-orange smiley face, split jaggedly down the middle, almost seems to taunt Blade from where it shines brightly behind Dan Heng, juxtaposing the muted fury radiating from his expression.
Look at what you’ve done, the face seems to say, gleeful at Blade’s misery. You two have only just reached an understanding, and now you want to pull this stunt?
“It is unnecessary. No one except for me needs to be involved,” Blade says. The broken smiley face may not be pleasant to look at, but it is easier than whatever might await him with Dan Heng. “The rest of your Astral Express crew are going to be facing the other threat that has revealed itself on this planet. You would be more useful to them than you would be to me.”
He doesn’t say that Silver Wolf will be accompanying him, too. Besides, it is not like Silver Wolf is happy to be the one tasked to be there; she has been near inconsolable since learning that Blade lied about his script being blank, and she continues to waste her time trying to come up with increasingly outlandish ideas to get him out of his fate. Blade knows that grief is a strange emotion, so he does not stop her from her frantic brainstorming, even if he thinks that she should know that it is a fruitless endeavor to try and change Elio’s scripts.
And, if Elio’s script is to be believed, the Stellaron child will be there as well.
Even if a small part of Blade wishes that a different member of the Astral Express were fated to be with him, it is no matter. Blade has wished only for one thing since being cursed with this continued existence, and it takes precedence over all others.
Still, despite Blade’s reticence, Dan Heng must have some innate understanding that Blade is not telling him the entire story, because he spits, “So, you think I’m unnecessary.”
“You have already paid the price,” Blade replies simply. “You accepted Dan Feng’s sins. You helped quell the mara that resides within me. You assisted me in sealing away the remnants of Shuhu.”
Blade finally forces himself to look Dan Heng in the eyes. “Our business with one another is over.”
Dan Heng flinches, some of the anger in his expression melting away to reveal something that Blade does not dare name.
Silence reigns for what feels like centuries.
The time that the two of them share has always been funny. Yingxing’s mortal life, full to bursting with tragedy and joy in equal measure, passed in a blink of an eye.
And, now, faced with the reincarnation of the man Yingxing loved with his entire soul and Blade once resented with every fiber of his rotten being, Blade feels centuries of hurt condense into every second he is forced to face the reality of being the one to leave someone behind.
Dan Heng is still under the impression that the so-called worst outcome of Blade’s funeral is a permanent death. He is unaware that Blade meeting his final end is the best, and least likely, option.
Using the Voracity to defeat Shuhu may easily lead to Blade’s body being ripped apart, time and time again, only for the Abundance that runs through his veins to painstakingly sew the tendrils of his decaying flesh back together — just to be torn to pieces in yet another unending cycle.
If Blade’s encounter with the Voracity ends in Shuhu’s demise and Blade’s ultimate death, then he will count himself as lucky.
And still… Even without knowing the entire picture, this is Dan Heng’s reaction — this is the boundless capacity of Dan Heng’s ability to care for others, even beings that do not deserve it.
Although the gnarled amalgamation of rot and sin still beating in Blade's chest would love nothing more than to have Dan Heng by his side at the end of it all, Blade knows that this is not something he can ask for.
Even if Dan Heng is the one offering, Blade is too unworthy to accept.
Yingxing might have, once upon a time, deserved to die a peaceful death. Perhaps he may have even accrued enough good karma to pass into the afterlife with Dan Feng standing right beside him.
But Blade is an abomination, a near-empty husk that is only useful for cutting down enemies and clinging desperately to regrets.
He deserves no one's compassion — least of all a man who has already paid back the debts his previous incarnation owed, then stayed beyond that anyway.
Dan Heng has stayed silent for too long. His head is bowed, his face pointed toward the ground and fists clenched at his sides.
Hah.
Shaking his head, Blade muses, For all the times he has gone head-to-head with me with his spear, it seems that just a few words can defeat him.
The victory, if one can even call it that, rings hollow: truly, there are no victors, only losses, in the long and complicated conflict they have built together.
No matter the outcome, no matter if this is my true death or another eternity of suffering, Blade thinks, the burdens we share end today.
Blade turns away.
Quick as a heartbeat, Dan Heng shoots a hand out and traps Blade’s wrist in an unrelentingly tight grip.
“I don’t care if you think having me there is unnecessary,” Dan Heng says, his shoulders shaking but his voice steady, “and I don’t care what your script might say. I am a Nameless; I follow my own path, and I am not letting you stop me from to accompanying you.”
Blade can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. A huff of shock punches its way out of his lungs, followed by humorless laughter that tumbles its way past his lips.
“Who knew, that during all those years I pursued you to ensure we would repay our debts,” Blade chuckles, “that all it would take to get you to come chasing after me was to refuse to let you do so at all?”
Dan Heng’s fingers tighten their hold. Pain no longer travels through the nerve endings there, Blade’s hands and joints too numb to register much besides pressure, but the sight of Dan Heng’s hand wrapped around Blade’s wrist is a novel enough experience in and of itself.
“You may say that our business is over, but I made a promise to you that day on the Scalegorge Waterscape.” Dan Heng’s free hand clenches, unclenches, clenches again. “And you will not turn me into someone who goes back on my word.”
Sighing, Blade finally turns back so he can face Dan Heng properly.
“Then, if I promise to you that this is not the end you once promised me to accompany to,” Blade asks, “Will you stay behind and wait?”
Dan Heng’s eyes glisten underneath the incessant neon lights.
“That’s not something you can promise anyone,” Dan Heng replies, gritting his teeth. “Don’t try to lie to me now. You said that the path ahead is fraught with danger, and at the end of the road, a funeral. You may have already cheated death countless times before, but this time, the divinations…”
Dan Heng inhales, exhales, inhales again. “This time is different.”
Blade adjusts their hands so that their fingers can tangle together. “This time, I have something to live for.”
It’s not quite the truth. It’s not quite a lie.
But perhaps, if Blade can use his words to his advantage, if Blade can make a promise that isn’t quite what it seems, then maybe, just maybe, Dan Heng will finally learn to let him go.
The conviction in Dan Heng’s eyes is scalding. This time, not even heaven and earth combined could tear Blade’s gaze away.
When Dan Heng surges upward, Blade meets him halfway.
The kiss they share is a shitty one. Their teeth clack, hard enough for even Blade’s gums to sting, and Dan Heng’s lips are dry and bitten through. Blade’s own are probably the same or even worse; it’s not like he typically pays attention to the state of his body, even on the best of days.
It’s also, quite obviously, both of their firsts in this lifetime — the emotions running amok between them cannot make up for the inexperience, and the kiss is awkward in spite of everything.
Yet, still, it’s more than Blade could have ever wanted. Dan Heng’s other hand settles on Blade’s chest, steadying them both, and Blade tilts his head just enough so that their lips can lock together more softly.
Even as undeserving as he is, even as wretched as this blasphemous life has been, this brief moment of sweetness offers a small reprieve to the overwelming stream of suffering that pulses through his being.
When Dan Heng kisses him so tenderly like so, when he can cradle Dan Heng’s warmth even with his scarred and broken arms, it makes it easier for him to understand why Yingxing and Dan Feng both coveted forever.
Even if I can’t have forever with you, even if we will never have a future, Blade thinks, moving to hold Dan Heng more securely, I am glad that an abomination such as I has been allowed to have this.
After several moments, Blade is the first to pull away.
Dan Heng’s lips are pink and shiny, complemented by the blush that sits high on his cheeks and at the tops of his ears. When Dan Heng’s eyes flutter open, a renewed hope shines within them.
Blade will be the one to extinguish that light.
“I still don’t want you to come with me,” Blade says, carding his fingers through the short strands of Dan Heng’s hair. “Now, even more so.”
Immediately, Dan Heng’s expression darkens, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth twisting into a scowl. His eyes now shine for a different reason, the harsh studio lights emphasizes the damp sheen that clouds over them.
Blade closes his eyes, willing himself to ignore the first tear that begins to trickle down Dan Heng’s face. Even if he is aware of its existence, Blade knows that if he watches the rest of the tears fall, he will no longer have the strength necessary to walk willingly into the jaws of the abyss.
“This is something I must do alone,” Blade whispers, and the hand tangled in Dan Heng’s hair tightens as he gently pulls Dan Heng to rest against him. “I just want to keep you safe.”
I don’t want you to see me die.
I don’t want you to see me die again.
Dan Heng’s breath hitches once, twice.
The third is silent, but as Dan Heng buries his face closer, dampness spreads across the front of Blade’s coat. Blade’s grip on the back of Dan Heng’s head tightens, but even if he is suffocating, Dan Heng does not protest.
“You promise to come back,” Dan Heng murmurs, his voice thick. “You promise that this is not the end I must accompany you to.”
Blade nods. He agrees to the second promise, not the first, but Dan Heng does not need to know.
If this is something Dan Heng must tell himself, if this is something that Dan Heng must believe in order to play his part in ensuring the people of this world can remain protected…
Blade tightens his hold on Dan Heng and presses one last, lingering kiss against Dan Heng’s temple. He pretends he does not hear the small, hiccupping sob that muffles itself against his chest, and he pretends he does not feel the way Dan Heng trembles in his embrace. He pretends that he does not feel, for the first time in a long, long time, the beginnings of fear and longing tangle with the regret that has since made its home in the blackened mass that was once a heart.
…Then Blade will allow him that small mercy.