Katy does what she can, in the aftermath of the battle. There’s so much else to sort through nobody asks her to go near the bodies, for which she is grateful. She’s not sure it’s her place anyways. The dead should be taken care of by the ones they loved, who loved them.
She’s in what used to be a house, sorting planks of timber that might be reusable from the debris. They’re heavy, at the edge of her ability to lift.
“You’ll strain yourself without help,” Xialing says. “Especially since you’re not used to it.”
“Well it’s not like there was anybody to spare.” Now that she’s stopped—oh yeah, she’s definitely feeling it. But she’s not going to crumple up like a rag doll in front of Shaun(? Shangqi?)’s sister.
“It’s almost dark anyways. You should eat, get some rest.”
Katy can’t find a way to argue with this, so she nods and follows Xialing back to the main hall.
Sitting down, she can’t help a groan of pain as much as she wants to keep it in. Xialing raises an eyebrow but says nothing.
Shaun comes in, sits next to her. He scoots in close, until they’re shoulder to shoulder. Intellectually she knows he’s safe, but something in her unknots, having him there close enough to feel.
Dinner is a quiet affair, nobody feeling up to talking much. Shaun excuses himself, saying he has to go meet with Ying Yi and the rest of the village’s leadership.
“I know I’m probably going to say it a lot, but you deserve to hear it. You were amazing out there.” He smiles, soft and bursting with pride.
“Look at your own stupid superhero face,” she retorts, because she can’t deal with him looking at her like that. (What exactly that means is something she stuffs away to examine later, possibly never.)
“My stupid superhero face hopes you have a good night. See you in the morning.” He squeezes her shoulder before he departs and she does not show that it hurts.
Before she leaves, Xialing puts a dark glass bottle in front of Katy.
“Ying Yi made this. She says it’s good for muscle pain.”
Katy uncorks the lid. It smells absolutely vile, worse than any herbal mess her mom made her drink when she was sick as a kid. Something must show on her face, because Xialing laughs.
“You don’t drink it, you rub it on.”
“I’m not sure that’s better.”
Despite her skepticism she puts it on her sore spots (okay, basically her entire body) before she goes to bed. In the morning, her pain is significantly diminished. She’s never going back to Tiger Balm after this.
—
The morning after the lantern ceremony is quiet. Katy gets up early, takes a walk around the village. The archery range is deserted, the adjoining armory still in disarray. It feels wrong to leave it, so she puts the bows back in place, scoops and organizes the scattered arrows back into quivers.
When it’s tidied to the best of her ability, she walks back to the main hall. Passing the shrine, she sees somebody calligraphing what she assumes are names onto vertical scrolls of paper. Normally the plates would be made of something a little more permanent: wood, clay, or stone, but given how many names need to be added, she figures that will happen later.
Katy reaches back into her memory. Her Mandarin is almost nonexistent, but it’s coming back now that she hears it all around.
“Ni hao,” she says to the scribe.
“Ni hao. Shen ma?”
“Wo yao… uh, crap. Sorry.” She expects the scribe to be impatient or annoyed at her clumsiness, but they just tilt their head, waiting for her to continue. It is a small kindness she is grateful for.
She tries again. “Wo yao Guang Bo de wenzi.” She’s not sure if the grammar’s correct, but that is all of the words at least.
“Ah! Lai, lai.” The scribe writes down the name in careful print on a scrap of paper and points out where it’s been tacked on the wall. It’s one of too many, and her heart drops at the giant expanse of white in front of her. There are always sacrifices in battle, but it still hurts to reckon with the cost.
Boxes filled with thin ends of incense sticks line the base of the walls. She takes a stick and lights it on a candle, blowing it out until the end smolders like a tiny dragon scale. It smells like the ones her family burns to observe special occasions, like Wai Gong’s birthday and Lunar New Year.
She brings her hands up, holding the incense out in supplication and respect. She has no idea what they believe in Ta Lo, but letting Guang Bo know she’s grateful for his guidance and tutelage seems like it wouldn’t be amiss. After she opens her eyes, she feels lighter, and she puts her stick in the box to burn with the rest.
Passing the shrine for Shaun and Xialing’s mom, she sees the remnants of three sticks. She remembers them lighting two, but the third one is off to the side. Katy supposes it could be from Auntie Nan, but she doesn’t think it is.
Shaun and Xialing’s mom is beautiful, unsurprisingly. Shaun really does have her eyes, and Xialing her facial structure. She holds herself in a way she recognizes from Shaun’s posture, and Auntie Nan when she’s watchful. A slow sadness wells up within her that she can only know this woman through the people she’s left behind.
She lights another stick of incense, holds it up. I just wanted to let you know both your kids are amazing. Strong, capable, talented. Their kung fu is really good. She giggles at this, possibly a little hysterically. And Shaun—Shangqi. I never would have gotten through this without him. Or the past ten years of my life. Tears prick at her eyes. If you were still here, I never would have met him, and that’s fine, because he needs you more than he needs me. But he’s great, and that’s definitely because of you.
Auntie Nan is standing at the door. When Katy looks up she walks over.
“I just wanted to, uh, pay my respects.” Katy puts her incense in the holder.
“Of course.” Auntie Nan loops her arm into Katy’s and they stand there for a little bit.
“I think she would have liked you very much,” Auntie Nan says. “She would be grateful to you and your family for taking care of Shangqi, as am I.”
“I’m glad you think that.”
—
The flight back to San Francisco is still coach, but they’re in a side row with a mysteriously empty seat, even though the rest of the plane is full. Katy’s not going to question their mysterious good fortune, especially when Shaun(? Shangqi?) looks beat to absolute shit.
There’s no visible injury on his face, but he moves stiffly, hissing in pain when he shifts position. He’s slumped against the window, legs on the middle seat. His eyes are closed, lips drawn tight with pain.
“I suppose this is probably a bad time to ask you—”
“No, please. Talk about anything you want. It’s distracting.” He smiles, however tiredly, and Katy will talk herself hoarse if it takes his mind off his injuries even a little bit.
“What do I call you now? What do you want to be called?” Everybody else addresses him as Shangqi, and it still takes her a moment to realize they’re referring to him. Her best friend, partner (okay, mostly willing accomplice) in crime, the guy she helped save the world with.
“If it’s okay with you, I think I’d like to stick with Shaun.”
There’s a small bit of relief at hearing this, and immediately she feels ashamed. Her opinion or convenience should play no role in this, even in the privacy of her own head.
“Is this because I can’t say it right? I’m going to practice, I promise.” It’s not a lie, more like deflection; a feeble attempt to move the issue to less fraught waters.
“If Sister Hui couldn’t get you to pronounce your tones correctly, I’m not sure anybody could.” He laughs, then winces. “Okay, that was a mistake.”
She jumps up. “Can I get you anything? Water, tomato juice? A cocktail made of as many little bottles of airplane booze I can find?”
“Nah, I’m good. Come back here.” He plucks at the hem of her shirt and she sits back down, settling her legs between his. It’s been difficult to not keep in physical contact with him whenever she can, even if it’s only a little. It makes her feel better to know apparently he feels the same way.
“Like I was saying. Shangqi is my given name, and of course it’s important. But I’m also Shaun, the little dweeb with big ears you had to rescue the first day of school. And your best friend. That’s me too, and I’m not going to erase that or let my… heritage overshadow so much of my life. ”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“I knew you would.” Another smile, a touch to her ankle. His thumb glides along the bone, just a gentle brush, and she hopes the light is dim enough he can’t see her shiver.
“Are you going to tell Mom and Wai Po?”
“I think they deserve to know, given we probably scared them half to death.”
“Oh god. They’re gonna know your full Chinese name now. And they won’t be afraid to use it.”
For the first time since Ta Lo, she sees genuine fear in his eyes. “Is it too late to make sure the Soul Eater is really, really dead?”
“Sorry dude, I think it might be.”
“It’ll be fine. And if not, we’ll get through it together. Ride or die, right?” He holds out his fist.
“Ride or die.” She bumps it with her own.
Shaun closes his eyes. By the sound of his slow, even breathing she can tell he’s asleep, and likely to be for a while. Katy carefully disentangles her legs and curls them underneath her. Even though she’s exhausted, she stays awake for most of the flight.
—
There’s an email; Katy doesn’t even wonder about how Wong got her address, which should probably unnerve her a little but after the past few days, it doesn’t even come close to the bar. You probably have things to settle at home first. Take whatever time you need, but I would advise you not to tarry. You have a great deal to catch up on.
There’s so much… certainty behind it all. Like it’s a given she’s going to travel halfway across the world to go to—what the fuck even is Kamar Taj? Monk school? Magic school? Both?
Her stomach grumbles and she shakes her head. Nothing’s happening before she gets something to eat.
Wai Po is reading in the living room. Katy can’t understand the characters in the title but it has a wuxia monk on the cover, readied in a stance. She wonders how much of this stuff is based on Ta Lo.
“There’s jook in the rice cooker,” Wai Po says, glancing up from her book. “Your mom left it for you.”
“Thanks,” she replies. It’s the usual, flavored with little bits of chicken or pork. It’s hot and comforting, the closest to a hug she can get from her mom right now.
She gets up to put her bowl in the sink. Wai Po is looking at her. Like really looking at her.
“What?”
“You move differently now.”
“Okay.” She hasn’t exactly sat her family down and told them everything that happened, but between the Bus Incident and her and Shaun’s sudden disappearance Katy trusts that Wai Po has figured out something changed.
Wai Po laughs softly, affectionate and only a little teasing. “Sun nu, I changed your diapers. I’ve slept next to your bed when you were sick. If you think I can’t read you like a book—”
Ugh. Sometimes it sucks being Perceived.
“I see focus. Like you’ve found your path and are walking towards it.”
“I guess.” It’s not what she meant to say, but sometimes your coping mechanisms kick in whether you want them to or not.
“I told your mother you would find your way eventually, even if it was not the path she wanted or expected you to take. You are meant for something greater, and I am happy you understand that now.”
Katy’s eyes sting with tears as she goes over to Wai Po’s chair to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Thank you, Po Po.”
—
All too soon, she runs out of affairs to put in order, and it appears Shaun has as well. He comes over to her place at the agreed-upon time, and says goodbye to Katy’s family. Her mom pats him on the cheek and they all pretend not to notice the wet glimmer in her eyes. He exchanges fistbumps with Ruihua and promises to teach him any sick martial arts moves he learns. Wai Po squeezes his arm and says something to him in Mandarin that makes Shawn’s eyes go wide. She cackles at this and kisses his cheek.
Katy hugs her mom and brother one last time. Wai Po cradles Katy’s face in her hands, just looking at her. Her face is soft with love and full of pride, and Katy’s eyes sting with tears.
“You know your path, Chen Ruiwen. Follow your heart and it will never lead you wrong. I told Shangqi to watch out for you, so let me know if he doesn’t.”
Katy, despite herself, laughs. “I will, Po Po. I love you.”
A portal appears in the living room, sparking bright and gold. Wong steps out of it, nodding in greeting to Katy’s family. She can see a courtyard with a large tree in the center on the other side.
“Are you two ready?” He asks.
Katy looks at Shawn, and he takes her hand.
“As we’ll ever be,” she says.
“Come on, then.” Wong steps through the portal.
She takes a deep breath, lets it out. He squeezes her hand. They walk through it, to face whatever comes next, together.