Chapter Text
"... The aftermath of the battle on Chicken Island almost four days ago has left many citizens, Stanians and the people from Xuanwu in a state of complete confusion and betrayal. With that said, I am here now, in the outskirts of Chicken Island where most of the damage was received."
The news reporter turns to the destruction behind her, motioning the cameraman to swivel the camera around slowly.
"As of today, even a few days later, the people here are still rebuilding. Many were injured, yet only two Xuanwu assassins, the Shadow Killer League Leader, and one of his assassins, Manjusaka, including one Stanian woman were killed in this strange, drawn out battle."
The news reporter turns back to the camera.
"Sources say... "
The woman pauses, gasps, then makes the cameraman turn around, catching what she sees. Her sudden excitement to interview someone rises, then falls when she gets closer to the young man sitting in the grass. His posture pauses her momentarily, slowing down her movements so as to not startle him. Seven sits on the grass overlooking the beach, knees drawn, arms wrapped around them. He's dressed back into his hoodie and shorts, his tied up hair swaying in the wind. Hearing the footsteps, Seven regardes them when they were at least five feet away.
Seven speaks clearly, but not unkindly. "... Don't... Come any closer. Please."
The woman looks at her cameraman, motioning for him to cut. He does, as she stares out at the view herself. She swallows somewhat nervously at the sword and token laying on the ground next to the young man in front of her, accompanied by two knives on his other side. The woman recognizes those knives from when she first arrived to gather the story on the island, she'd watched them be removed from the young red haired woman before she was laid to rest in her grave.
Instead of commenting on that at the moment, she changes the subject. "... It's very beautiful here."
Seven hums softly. "... Yeah, it is."
After a few moments of silence, she speaks again, "Did you know the assassin that got killed?"
Seven looks back at her over his shoulder, to the cameraman who stands idle far away, then pats the grass next to him. Blinking, the woman joins him, sitting in the grass, the knives separating him from her.
The woman speaks softly, as if she were talking to a scared, wild animal. "You... Shouldn't be out here all alone like this..."
Seven heaves a shaky sigh before speaking back, "I keep... Turning around to see her, but I... Everyone, my friends, my family, but I can't... I can't face them. If I had been... More attentive... She would be alive."
The woman chews her lip before sighing, drawing her own knees to her chest like Seven.
"... Listen, in my time in doing this," She motions to the cameraman, "I've seen... A lot. I wanted to bring light to disasters, and this was the only thing I could think of. What I wasn't prepared for... Was the death I kept seeing around me in the aftermath. I... I have nightmares, most nights."
Seven whispers, "Oh... I'm sorry."
The woman grimaces, nodding. "Yeah, me too. What I'm trying to get at is... You don't have control over everything that happens. Did you know she was going to die? No, no you didn't, so no, it's not your fault something bad happened. Everyone can blame each other for things that happen all the time, but... It's life, not something you can change. You just... Learn to keep moving."
Seven looks over at her, catching her gaze. It wasn't pitying, it was pain and understanding that he saw.
She gives him a tight lipped smile. "... Go home, honey. Hug the remainder of the family you have left, keep them close to you. Please remember that it's not just you who lost her."
Seven looks down at the knives between them, then back up, "... Did you... Ever think of quitting?"
The woman huffs a soft, wry laugh. "Despite everything? No, because I'm here to help, not run away. Sitting here, even talking to you, I like to think it helps, no matter how small an impact it is."
Seven goes back to staring, then whispers, "... Thank you."
The woman smiles at him as he stands. She rises from her place as well, watching him gather his items. He straps the knives onto his waist underneath his hoodie, effectively concealing them as he tugs the white cloth over it. He nods to the cameraman, who sets his bulky equipment back into action on his shoulder, deciding not to record Seven leave.
Seven listens to their recording a bit more, about to step in when a man rebuilding his wall starts screaming about being compensated for damages, but smirks when the woman snaps back, telling him off that he shouldn't be snapping at random people like that. Seven turns around, making his way through Chicken Island, noting every bit of damage there was, before he bumps into Redtooth. Seven stares up at him as the man crosses his arms. Noting that Redtooth is dressed in loose, baggy sweatpants and a T-shirt, Seven raises an eyebrow at him.
Redtooth huffs in his inaudible way, before typing on a phone screen, his arm guards nowhere in sight. Redtooth shows Seven his screen.
'My assassin outfit got ripped and torn more than it already was. This was the only thing Senior had way back inside in her closet.'
Seven reaches up and pats Redtooth's shoulder. The man regards Seven for a moment before stopping him from walking away, typing again.
'Seven. I know you're not... Okay, but are you... Alright otherwise? Don't worry, I had to have this conversation with the rest of them, too, you aren't the only one Senior and I are targeting today. Not like she gave me a choice, I'm being forced.'
Redtooth gets a small smile, but it doesn't feel like enough. As the other mulls over what else to say, Seven dives into his own thoughts.
Ever since the battle, Redtooth had... Opened up a bit more to them all, thanks to Jiang. Turns out spending that entire month with his friend helped him a bit. Then, since Seven could relate to the other, he had actually been... Strangely kind to him.
Seven huffs at the thought, shaking his head. "It's... Alright, Redtooth, you don't need to clarify, I get what you meant. I'm... Holding? For now, I guess? I... I haven't slept for the past three days..."
Redtooth types, 'You should. I know you just lost her, but you need rest, too.'
Seven looks down at his feet, then nods, thinking back on the reporter's words. "I- I'll try?"
Redtooth gives him a small, quirked smile before patting Seven's head, 'Good Seven.'
"Oh Redtooth, go screw off somewhere!" Seven laughs, pushing the offending hand away from him.
Getting the intended effect he wanted, Redtooth grins, turning on his heel.
'Sleep, kid.'
Seven makes no comment as he walks away.
For the next few days, Seven took the advice to heart, which seemed to help them all cope with Manjusaka's death. As he gets home from going back to working the beef offal stand, Neo awaits him as a small puppy, greeting Seven by quite literally crawling up his back to Seven's shoulder, yapping loudly in his ear.
" N-Neo! Hey! You're not a cat, and I'm not a tree!"
Seven snags the puppy off his shoulder, holding him out in front of him, then drawing Neo against his chest, cuddling him. Seven beings Neo inside the shop, where he's greeted by Ouyang-Zan rushing to him, pulling him into his arms. Seven, still holding Neo, can't hug back, but he huddles against him all the same. Laying his head against Ouyang-Zan's shoulder, he stares at his reflection in the mirror across from them. Besides his usual eye bags, Seven still looks completely wrecked with exhaustion. He's a bit paler than usual, his pupils weren't even as red, they had dulled to a rust color, his eyebrows were pulled into a light frown, and his hair seemed disheveled, even in the ponytail. Seven turns away from his reflection, nuzzling against Ouyang-Zan. His brother pets his ponytail, fixing some strands that threaten to fall.
Seven hums at the feeling, letting the silence sit for a few minutes, then pokes at Ouyang-Zan's ridiculous pineapple shirt. "... She did have good taste."
This, thankfully, makes Ouyang-Zan chuckle, "She did."
"Seven."
Seven blinks as Ouyang-Zan lets him go, stepping back to allow Thirteen to step forward, leaning down to press a kiss to Seven's forehead. Leaning into it, he finds himself being held once more, by lithe arms this time. Neo whines at the lack of attention to himself, which makes Thirteen smile. She pulls back enough to reach down and pet Neo's head, who yips, then wiggles from Seven's arms, growing a bit of a bigger size before darting to Ouyang-Zan. Seven watches with a small smile, before he's drawn back to the woman in front of him as she lightly cups his cheek.
When she lets go, Seven plunks his forehead against Thirteen's shoulder. "How's Phoenix?"
Thirteen hums, "Stubborn. Just like you, he doesn't believe in resting, either."
Seven shakes his head, "Oh, what a tragedy."
Thirteen laughs at this, before leading Seven to a stool, sitting him down. He complies immediately as she pulls his ponytail from its band, taking her fingers through the soft strands as she pulls his hair back up into a tighter, less messier one.
"There."
Seven blinks, "Thanks. So where is he?"
"He's at Manjusaka's shop, tidying it up like you asked." Thirteen looks down. "He wanted to ask you something about it, but you had already left."
Seven slips off the stool, picks up Thirteen's idle hand and kisses the back of it lightly.
"I shall be back then, my lady."
Thirteen rolls her eyes, whacking the side of Seven's head lightly.
"Leave. Shoo."
Seven, laughing, practically skips the entire way to Manjusaka's shop.