Jin stepped out of the pavilion with a polite bow, the weight of the Town Chief's words still heavy in his chest. The air outside was cooler now, but not enough to ease the slow churn of his thoughts.
Four hundred years.
The number sat in his mind like a boulder.
Had he really been gone from the world that long? And if so… where had he been? Who had put him there? Or had it been by his own choice?
Every time he reached for an answer, his mind returned only fragments—faces half-hidden in light, a voice calling his name, and that same, burning sensation in his chest before waking.
It was infuriating.
The street around him seemed to echo his unease. The breeze had turned sharp, carrying with it a dry rustle from the hanging shop banners. Clouds began to crawl across the sky, muting the warm colors of the sunset. Even the foot traffic had thinned, the locals moving quicker, avoiding eye contact with the man whose expression was now a quiet storm.
The cat, still draped over his shoulders like it had claimed him, suddenly shifted. It rubbed its head along his jawline, letting out a soft, deliberate mrrrp.
Jin blinked. His shoulders eased. The tension in his chest didn't vanish, but it softened.
"…You're not bad company, you know that?"
He reached up, scratching behind its odd, furred ears—only to brush against the faint ridge where its hidden wings folded flat. The tail, far longer than any normal feline's, coiled loosely around the back of his neck like a scarf.
He smirked.
"A strange beast like you… needs a strange name."
He thought for a moment, lips quirking as he muttered possibilities under his breath. None seemed to stick yet, but the cat's eyes half-lidded in approval, as if granting him time to decide.
By the time he returned to the inn, the sky was fully dimming into blue-grey. Light spilled from the open window of their room, the smell of cooking strong enough to pull his stomach into a growl.
Inside, Ruan was crouched over the small brazier, turning a skewer of sizzling meat with all the focus of someone guarding treasure. Her head snapped up the moment she saw him.
"sharp, rapid speech Jin couldn't follow"
Jin raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Took too long, you nearly starved to death, tragic story. But—"
He stepped forward and, with theatrical flourish, presented the cat like a royal gift.
"look what I brought back."
Ruan's eyes followed the movement. Then they froze on the cat.
Her expression shifted instantly—confusion, then disbelief, then a sharp intake of breath before she screamed and scrambled backward, knocking over a small basket of vegetables.
Jin blinked at her, utterly blank, until realization dawned in slow motion.
"…Oh."
Then his mouth split into a grin.
"Ohhh."
The cat looked at Ruan curiously, tilting its head, wings twitching slightly beneath its fur.
Ruan, however, had pressed herself against the far wall, eyes darting between Jin and the creature like they were both disease. She barked something rapid and pointed toward the door.
Jin laughed.
"Afraid of cats? Really? After all the things you've survived? This is the mighty Ruan?"
She growled something in response, voice climbing into a threat Jin couldn't quite translate—but he got the tone perfectly.
So naturally, he took a step forward.
And then another.
Ruan's eyes widened.
She yelled with fury at Jin
Jin lunged, holding the cat out with both hands like a weapon. The creature let out a confused meow as Ruan bolted around the table.
"Come on, just pet it! It's friendly!"
Ruan screamed in protest
He chased her in circles around the cramped room, both of them knocking into chairs and scattering utensils. Ruan's braid came loose, hair flying behind her as she darted toward the door—only for Jin to block her path with the cat, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
Ruan, halfway between rage and panic, shouted something that definitely included the words for "kill" and "idiot".
Jin, still grinning like a demon, replied,
"You'll have to catch me first!"
The game continued until Ruan finally grabbed a wooden ladle from the brazier and brandished it like a club. Jin, deciding he'd pushed his luck far enough for one night, retreated—still holding the cat like a prize.
As he flopped back onto his bed, the cat curled onto his chest, tail winding lazily around his arm. Jin's grin softened into something quieter. The thought of four lost centuries still burned at the edge of his mind, but for now… tormenting Ruan had been an oddly satisfying distraction.
At Night:
The night in the inn was quiet, save for the occasional groan of old wood in the beams above. Jin slept with one arm behind his head, the strange cat curled against his side, its tail draped lazily over his ribs.
At some point, his breathing slowed into the deep rhythm of a dream—and the darkness shifted.
When his eyes opened, he was not in the inn.
He stood on the highest balcony of a towering structure, the wind pulling at his hair and robes. Below him stretched a world so vast, so impossibly wide, that the horizon itself bowed under its own weight—an empire glittering with countless lantern lights, rivers of gold weaving through the dark earth.
And he was not alone.
Two men and one woman stood beside him, close enough that he felt their presence without needing to glance. He knew them—knew the cadence of their breathing, the way their laughter sounded before they even spoke.
The one with the easy smirk was already talking, gesturing broadly toward the distant city walls.
Boasting Man: "And then he—with all his pomp—tried to challenge me. Can you believe it? As if I'd lower myself to spar with someone who can't even hold a stance for three breaths."
The woman leaned against the railing, her hair whipping about in the wind. She gave a sharp snort.
Woman: "You're still talking about him? Forget the small fry—what about the big ones? When's it time we kill the heads of this whole mess?"
The question was directed at Jin, but the words seemed to flow from him without thought, like they belonged to someone else.
Jin: "When it matters. We move too soon, the war stumbles on without them. We wait… and the whole beast rots from the head down."
The boasting man made a sound of approval, turning his gaze over the city.
Boasting Man: "In due time, all this will belong to us—or it will burn because of them. What is war, really, but the projection of hate one man has for his brother?"
The silent one finally spoke, his voice deep and quiet, the words winding like smoke.
Silent Man: "If the dragon chases its tail too long… the fire eats itself."
Jin didn't need to ask. He understood perfectly. So did the others.
They all went quiet for a moment, staring at the sprawl of the empire. The woman broke it with a sudden, almost restless sigh.
Woman: "We've reached the very top of the martial world, and still no one can match us. Is this… it? Is it supposed to feel this lonely?"
Jin smirked.
Jin: "Then stop staring at the horizon like it'll entertain you. Start a fight. Or five."
That got them all talking. Lovers were mentioned. Names were mocked. Every flaw, every bad habit laid bare for ridicule—and still, their voices held a warmth no insult could hide.
Jin learned that the woman had lovers of both genders, scandalous by any court's law. She shrugged as if the idea of shame itself was laughable.
Woman: "The law's a toy for cowards. I play with what I want."
The boasting man nearly doubled over laughing. The silent one gave a faint, knowing smile.
Jin found himself grinning.
Jin: "If we're so bored… why don't we sneak into the royal treasury? See what the Emperor hides from his own people."
The boasting man slapped his shoulder.
Boasting Man: "Now that is the Jin I follow!"
Even the silent one gave a low chuckle. The woman smirked like she'd been waiting for someone to suggest it.
They all laughed together, the kind of laughter that only came when nothing felt impossible—when the whole world was a game and they were the ones setting the rules.
Jin's eyes snapped open.
The inn's ceiling was above him again. The air was still. His breathing was too fast.
That was no ordinary dream. That had been real.
For the first time, it had felt good—warm, like he'd been surrounded by the only people who truly understood him. But the comfort of it tangled with something else… unease.
Did he really want to remember the kind of man he'd been?
And what had happened to take him from there… to here?
The cat shifted in its sleep beside him, tail curling a little tighter around his arm.
Jin stared into the dark until morning crept in.