I Wish You Were Never Reborn

Raia had reached over to hit the interior light button, her white shirt cuff peeking out of her dark jacket sleeve.

“Thank you,” Shay murmured.

She wanted to apologize again. She stopped herself, though. That wouldn’t clear the awkwardness. It might have even made it more awkward...

She got the pin on her bag just right, admiring its craftsmanship before turning off the light.

“...It’s a really handsome snake,” she said.

That elicited a snort from Raia.

“You think so?” she said, “You should tell that to Boss.”

“He... really likes snakes, huh?” Shay asked politely.

Raia sighed, relaxing back in her seat... “Yeah. Tyvan has a lot of quirks I’ve picked up over the years. Don’t imply that snakes are bad. Keep your hands out of your pockets. If your pants have loops, you have to wear a belt? Oh, and if at all possible, don’t. mention. dragons.”

“Dragons?” Shay said. “Dragons are cool, though?”

“Tyvan doesn’t think so,” Raia shrugged. “I’m surprised you haven’t run into that rule yet. According to him, dragons don’t exist.”

“But they don’t,” Shay said.

“You’re learning,” Raia replied with a smirk.

Shay returned a smile before looking back at the road. Awkward drive averted. Maybe. They’d gotten through the worst of the traffic, everyone steadily inching forward. They were still miles from their exit, though.

“You said... over the years?” Shay asked. “How long have you been working for Tyvan?”

“Can’t be too specific,” Raia said. “We have a really strict NDA? But yeah... it’s been awhile.”

Shay pursed her lips. The NDA was more serious than she thought.

“What was he like? When he was younger, I mean.”

“He hasn’t changed too much. He actually used to not smile at all.”

“Did that... change because of me?” Shay offered.

Aaaand... silence.

“W...hat?” Raia said.

And then... she laughed-- really, really hard. “nNooO!!! wHAAAT? Get over yourself. You serious?”

Shay’s face, ears, and neck were on fire. Classic Shay move: talking without thinking.

“Wow. You’re... hah. Thanks,” Raia said, still chuckling. “I needed that.”

“Yeah... Don’t mention it,” Shay said, trying to smile. “Please.”

“So don’t tell him this,” Raia said, “but Boss used to have this huge complex about his height. He was so proud when he finally grew taller than me-- but that’s when I’m not wearing heels, of course.”

“Ohh, that’s so cute!” Shay grinned. She was only a lowly 5’2”; she was pretty sure the younger Tyvan was still taller.

“I don’t think his height matters,” she added.

“It didn’t,” Raia nodded.

She brought her hand, absentmindedly rubbing the scar on her chin, “Even when he was basically a runt, he’s always been... really strong.”

Talking about Tyvan seemed to make Raia’s frustrations wisp away. And the nostalgic smile that blossomed on her face was... so... genuine.

It made Shay’s heart skip.

It was a beautiful smile.

But... it was a smile... of someone in love.

Real, actual love-- nothing like the stupid schoolgirl crush Shay had. Or that’s what her senses were telling her, anyway.

“Raia,” she said... “do you like him?”

“Kkkhhh,” Raia snorted. “What. a. fucking question~! Is that you talking or your stupid high school girl hormones?”

Shay once heard something like ‘Don’t be afraid to ask questions. What’s the worst anyone could say?’ And what Raia said... was up there. That was a horrible thing to hear-- and Shay had no idea how to respond.

“Yeah, I like him,” Raia continued, “but not in the way you’re thinking.”

Shay wrinkled her brows, “What-- you don’t think he’s hot?”

Yet again, she spoke without any kind of filter whatsoever. Why was she being so defensive?

“Oh, he’s definitely hot,” Raia said. “I’ve had to reject multiple offers to put his face on billboards all over the city? Oh, same with my brother.”

“Let’s do it,” Shay said, fire in her eyes. “I want it.”

“You really need to read your contract again,” Raia sighed.

Ah. That... was probably in the NDA, then.

“By the way,” Shay said, “how tall is your brother?”

“He’s just under 200 centimeters-- 198, I think.”

“Can I get that in freedom units?”

“Uh... 52 cheeseburgers?”

It was Shay’s turn to sigh. As soon as she got back to Elysium, she really needed to look up a conversion chart.

They were late getting to the hotel.

There was a lot of red in the decor. Red banners adorning the walls. Red carpets lining the rustic, wooden floors. Lucky red. And gold, too, with the signs and the chandeliers and the waving cats.

And there were... a lot of Chinese people. As professionally dressed as Shay was, she felt awkward not wearing a qipao like practically every other woman there.

Raia didn’t share her concerns. She kept her head high, leading Shay through the lobby and down a long corridor, all while exuding ‘I’m the baddest bitch to ever walk these halls’ energy.

A lot of people stared at them, two girls in western dress-- one very white and the other practically terrified. There were a lot of men in suits... but not businessmen. They all had big, burly bodies.

Shay was used to seeing that-- but at her grandfather’s house.

A slew of fresh new doubts entered Shay’s mind as her aunt’s voice echoed in her headspace.

‘Focus on your studies.’

‘Don’t bother with that nonsense.’

Who was Tyvan, actually?

Why was their NDA so strict?

And what the hell kind of situation had she gotten herself into?

The toughs that worked at the hotel were either gang members or martial artists. (And those were even worse!)

Raia was stopped by the biggest, meanest looking gangster-- big, bald, and wearing traditional Chinese attire.

“We’re here with Mister Valorum,” she said.

“Only one,” the man said, posturing at his full height for effect.

...which wasn’t that much taller than Raia in her heels.

“What’s wrong?” Raia said, “You guys scared of a couple of defenseless women?”

Ooh, that was dirty.

“Only one,” the man repeated.

Raia sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose.

She gestured her hand forward, “Yan Xue. Third floor. Look for the Jade Dragon boardroom.”

Jade Dragon. That was ominous.

Meanwhile, Tyvan Valorum was marveling at the development of modern technology.

He had in hand a telescopic baton. Due to its nature, it was hollow, but its weighty construction was surprisingly resilient.

He whipped it into the side of a particularly large, dark-skinned gentleman’s neck. They fell to the ground, emanating a harsh gurgling noise.

That was the third recipient of the appropriated tool’s violence, yet its integrity remained intact!

“This is lovely!” he said. “Where can I get one of these?”

“Your point has been made, Mister Valorum,” said Zhang Liu, “And your opinions have been noted.”

The Arrow Group representative sat at the far end of the meeting table, barely holding onto his composure. He was the only human in the meeting room yet to receive violence.

Tyvan was glad to have been heard. However, he had posed a serious inquiry.

He wanted a baton-- his own baton. Oh, and if he was using a standard model, then he wanted one forged or fabricated by a master crafter.

He began to check the baton-owner’s effects. Though the chance was slim, he hoped to find a reference card to their favoured weapons dealer.

“Mister Valorum... are you... looting my men?”

Tyvan paused for a moment.

“Yes.”

He rifled through his defeated opponent’s wallet, plundering a gift card to a well-known sandwich shop and an uncommonly crisp five-dollar bill. That fellow was going to be very cross if he woke up.

“Are these the Western customs of chivalry and honor?” Zhang sneered.

Tyvan raised an eyebrow, “I highly doubt our cultures are much different. The spoils of war are deserved by the victor.”

“Do you think you’ve won, then, Mister Valorum?” Zhang said, raising his chin.

Tyvan looked around the conference room. He’d left five fighters in various states of broken and incapacitated. And the Zhang remaining lacked both the physique and the courage to challenge him.

“Yes?”

Was he supposed to kill them to achieve a win condition? That seemed rather extraneous.

At least one was dead-- or would be soon, without medical attention. And at least two were functionally crippled and doomed to suffer chronic pain and worse for their remaining suns.

Intentional murder was a loathsome affair. Complications derived from injuries sustained in service, however, were beyond his concern. Such was the inherent risk of the warrior profession-- a constant in both his previous life and his current.

“You haven’t won anything,” Zhang insisted. “The Arrow Group will be taking your holdings eventually. Your little tantrum changes nothing.”

“Oh,” Tyvan smiled. “Is that a threat, Mister Zhang?”

Liu narrowed his eyes. He shook. A full-body tremor. A visible faltering. How fun.

“It is... an inevitability,” he said.

Tyvan closed his baton, then swung it like a sword to return it to its full extension.

“And what if I. break. you. Mister Zhang? Would anything change, then?”

“And is that a threat, Mister Valorum?” Zhang glared.

Tyvan opened his arms and lowered his head, “Change my mind.”

“Is this how your Kingdom does business?”

“Our usual clients are more mindful of baring their claws,” Tyvan chuckled.

“Do you fear nothing?” Zhang said, slamming his palms on the table. “This is a public space! We have cameras everywhere! Lawyers! You can’t expect to get away with this!”

“Are you trying to convince me to stop?” Tyvan teased playfully, “If my fate is truly as sealed as you suggest, then I should at least do as I please, no?”

He hopped onto the table.

He grabbed the bladed ceiling fan, tearing it out of its emplacement with a twist.

He’d always wondered what it would be like to hit someone with one.

“You’re a madman, Tyvan Valorum!” Zhang screamed, “Your handler will learn of this!”

Ah.

The scent he exuded...

It was the nostalgic... envigorating scent... of fear.