23 Danev

I should never have made a promise I knew there would have been no way of keeping.

Perhaps I'd even managed to deceive myself into thinking there was something about it that I could have done, but the moment our two sides had made contact, looked into the eyes of one another, the outcome had been sealed. Blood would be shed.

At the very least, none of it had been our own, and if ever there was cause to be relieved, that was it.

I couldn't lie, pretend that I had been behind this from the very beginning, but I had to know when it was that I was wrong, and Riu was right. Perhaps our people had been at risk, but at the end of it all, we were the ones who still stood. We'd recovered what was ours, removed a threat, and sent a message to the slums. By morning, stories would have spread to every corner of the slums. What details would pass, I could not say, but the fundamentals of it would stay the same–The Hornets have struck.

And we'd suffered nothing.

The greatest injury was the club to the leg that Shuho had taken, bringing him to the ground only for his two attackers to be summarily cut down and gored in the span of seconds, the last vestiges of our bloodlust being shed in a horrific display, finally sated and qualmed in time for them to become open to Riu's orders for them to stand down.

One had made it back where seven should have.

But there were just some things about the Hornets that even I could never control.

Not when they were aimless children again just looking for the nearest thing to direct their violence at, not when they had the taste of blood on their tongues, not when Riu got to them.

But that had ended. The deed had been done. It's over.

We'd had a number of close calls despite how quickly it had all passed, Shuho and Fluke not the only ones who'd had first encounters with death. The latter of the two mentioned still seemed in shock, though I was unsure what over: that he'd nearly been killed, that he'd cut a boy, or that seven men had died in front of him in the span of only a few seconds?

One way or another, it took me snapping a finger in front of his eyes to bring him back to the present.

"Still with us?" I asked.

"Y-yeah," he coughed again, holding his right hand, shiv still held inside, to his mouth, only noticing it then, his eyes drawn to it, held in place, then looking to me.

He was wondering if I planned to take it from him.

Did I?

My fear had been of what he would do with a shiv in hand, who he would use it against, but here we were, it bloodied by an enemy, and him now on the verge of surrendering it to me. And then there was the matter of competency. Any good with it, and there wouldn't have been an eighth firefly to spread the tale.

Though any worse, and there wouldn't be a 'him' for me to think about.

There was potential. That much, I was forced to acknowledge, but not enough that he was truly a risk to anyone. No, not yet.

I looked away, refusing to acknowledge him. If he wanted to toss the shiv, believing himself not ready to have it, I'd be rather shocked and concerned, but would not complain. If he chose to keep it however, to have something to defend himself, then I would show him how to use it right.

Maybe he could be an asset after all and not just my vain attempt to assuage my own guilt.

"Alright!" I called out, granting me the attention of the dozen other Hornets present. "We're going! If you can't carry it, leave it!"

There was no harm in sticking around of course. It wasn't as though we'd painted a bright target on our backs, and judging by the expression on Riu's face, he was just as aware of this, but I had to know when enough was enough. Taking out the fireflies, it had helped, I was loathe to admit, but there was a danger in allowing our Hornets to believe that killing seven men was simply a matter of profit. The longer they stayed here and picked over the remains as though they were spoils of war, the more inclined they would be to kill in the name of personal gain once again.

If it so happened that they were forced to spill blood, then it had to be for the sake of the Hornets, for our protection, not for profit.

In spite of the frustration that emerged from my announcement, it went unquestioned, supported by Riu who, regardless of his desire to revel in the victory, seemed to see things the same way I did, gathering the others together for the journey back home.

No longer distracted as they were by recovering what spoils they could from the dead, the attention of the Hornets was now elsewhere, namely, surprisingly enough, on Fluke, or, more specifically, the bloodied shiv he held.

They were passing glances, sure, none quite so bold as to stand out from the rest. Even Saku, having stuck with him before, joined the rest as Riu and I paved the way home, the atmosphere far different from what it'd been before. Had we been anywhere but the slums of Taisho, perhaps the notion would have been of an impromptu parade taking to the streets, the clamor even greater of that when the trade caravans came through, offering no shortage of goods at supposed "bargain" prices–just enough to empty the most enthralled slumdog's pockets for the promises of goods from foreign lands.

The same jumpy attitude persisted down the side road, onto the Liángshí street, and the entire way back to the Hive, bodies from within emerging curiously to perform a head count, and proceed to, with unsuppressed glee, greet the baker's dozen that returned.

We were allowed in, naturally, by those who could only be considered our last line of defense: Shirak and Roten, better jesters than they were soldiers, their only reason for existing being that Shirak was damn good with a thread and needle regardless of whether it was fabric he was working on or human skin, and Roten had a silver tongue when merchants came into town.

We'll have need of him these next few weeks before Winter begins and the caravans stop coming in.

"Alright!" Riu called out to the conquering heroes as they entered within. "Get some food in your bellies! You've earned it!"

Cheers erupted from the crowd, dispersing momentarily to show off their plunder to those who watched with envious eyes, no doubt wishing it'd been them chosen to fight in the name of the Hornets.

Hopefully the day when all need fight won't come.

Eventually, for the promise of a meal, all did eventually make their way to the cafeteria where, no doubt, Ladle would find himself with a busy evening.

"You go ahead," Riu turned to me as he watched the others depart. "I'll eat alone. See me after, yeah? Some things we need to go over."

Some things we need to go over?

"Of course," I answered.

I wasn't one to disagree with a suggestion of his, but nonetheless, even as he left, I found myself not headed to the cafeteria just yet, where, within, Hornets pranced around, danced on tables, and, hidden behind them, Ladle bolted into sudden action to prepare a meal with what little he had available. I was likely held back on account of Fluke, who lagged behind, concealed in darkness.

"You not going?" I asked, turning to face him.

"I kinda doubt they'd want me there."

Could I blame him for feeling that way? Was he even wrong?

"So," I shrugged. "Should still get some food in you anyway."

"I'll wake up before the others. Get breakfast alone. It's what I normally do. Don't really think the others want me around."

He wasn't exactly mistaken either. In the weeks since it'd been formally announced that he was with us, sentiment towards him hadn't exactly been warm. The other Hornets quickly caught onto Fluke's "unique" status here, in our custody, bound to our will, but not a Hornet. So long as they didn't damage our 'asset', they did as they pleased, shoving him around, berating him, outcasting him, and frankly, Fluke took it in stride all things considered. From what I knew of him, he was acquainted with the distance that people put between themselves, in his early years for fear of having their pockets picked or their coin purses cut, and more recently, for fear of having their life secrets sold to the highest bidder. The Hornets, understandably, were distrusting.

And it would only stay that way if Fluke continued to take it as he did. I saw the way others looked at him tonight, the way they'd looked at the bloodied blade that Fluke still held clutched in both hands, as though mortified of it falling into the grasp of one who'd rather see it used on him. The others, they saw something in Fluke that I did too, just the smallest sliver of potential.

"Come on," I prodded. "You acted as lookout and defended yourself. You shed the enemy's blood. The others'll respect that."

"I did, didn't I?"

"You did!"

I perhaps should have noticed, as indicated by the tone of his voice, that an enthusiastic response, artificial though it was, was the last thing he needed. He wasn't one for fighting, one for hurting others. What he did had scared him.

His clench on the knife, he was as scared of cutting others with it as himself, controlling the blade with all of his strength, terrified of what else he might be capable of with it.

"You want me to take that fro-"

He shook his head in a moment. "N-no. It's fine. I'd just rather hold on to it, yeah? It's…better than my old one anyway."

That was a fact.

"Whew," I sighed in relief. "Sorry, but your old one practically fell apart the moment we took it from you."

Fluke chuckled. "Yeah," he confessed. "Piece of shit was held together by mud and spit anyway. Miracle it lasted as long as it did."

I scoffed along with him, now suddenly feeling rather idiotic over the amount of paranoid vigor I had into searching him, ensuring that blade was never on him. "Still," I said. "You should go inside. Beat yourself up about it if you want, but we respect strength, and you showed that you have some of it. Let 'em see it."

I suppose, in the few seconds he spent pondering my words, he saw the worth in what I told him, as he eventually nodded his head, saying, "Alright" before stalking forward towards the cafeteria with hesitant, though at least progressing steps.

I followed, taking a seat far enough away from where Fluke planted himself, not quite in the direct vicinity of the others, considering his even being here a great enough leap for the night, so as not to be falsely accused of doting on him.

Ladle went about serving the Hornets present, taking myself as his priority upon catching sight of me where I sat, separate from the rest, more curious in observing rather than directly participating. It was clear enough that I intended to eat alone, and so the others, despite clearly noticing me, stuck to one another, lost in mindless chatter, bragging over their proficiency in their new weapons, and claiming credit for the fireflies they'd squashed. I doubted all were dead. Slumdogs like us, we considered the job done once the target was down, unless, of course, we were speaking of an individual such as Bee, who wouldn't consider the day over until she could no longer recognize who it was beneath her. But, of course, Bee was gone.

I'd seen to that.

Saze was dead, that much was certain. The other, hurt, down, likely to die of their injuries in due time, but still struggling, though I doubted most took the time to really find out. That went double for Fluke who looked at me as though I was a monster, as though he too hadn't lived on these streets all his life.

You know how the game works. Don't go bitching to me.

I was thankful when my food did arrive, a bland pottage of water and wheat, if only to take my attention away from the direction my mind was presently headed down.

I imagined Fluke was in not too dissimilar a boat, head faced down towards the table, Ladle passing immediately past him as though he didn't exist. In his defense, the man had enough people to feed with not nearly enough supplies to do so. I could see in the man's eyes that he was already looking into the future, seeing Fluke as little more than an additional mouth to feed when Winter came.

I was sure that Ladle wouldn't indefinitely neglect the kid, but he'd take his good time before getting to him, more eager to serve the elephant rats that scurried into their holes in the wall when he passed.

From the other few tables, pushed near one another to permit all seating while still engaging in conversation with one another, having attracted a few other stray Hornets who wished to be regaled in the tales of the night, the others spoke in horribly hushed voices. What I could make out approached the subject matter of a particular gray-eyed child who'd gone twelve years in these slums without ever shedding blood. Until today.

In spite of their clear interest in the boy, they made no move to approach. Not yet at least, clearly more interested in taking in their food. At least, so I thought.

Surprisingly enough, however, even for me who thought I'd had a good enough read on the lay of the land, the other boys would make their move before Ladle could get to him, the first to do so being Chote, that the less surprising part of it.

"So," he asked, immediately planting himself across from Fluke who jolted from surprise. "Let's see it!"

"See…?"

"The knife!" he exclaimed, hostility not at all present in his words, simply excitement. Others were joining him with the look of those who'd tried to keep Chote away, but now that he'd already failed to heed their words, were eager to view the repercussions of.

It took Fluke an honest minute to decipher that the giddy child only a year at most older than him was not kidding. With a startled reluctance, Fluke reached down to his waistband, and unveiled the blade in question as I watched from across the cafeteria.

He removed the blade, holding it in his hands with noticeably weaker a commitment, perhaps wanting to forget about it now more than anything, though by the looks of the other Hornets gathering around, such wouldn't be the case.

"Holy shit you didn't wipe it clean?" Shen asked, leaning over the table to get a look.

"Fucking savage," Riso muttered over Shen's shoulder. Others were joining as well, including Saku who, with a free arm, supported Shuho's weight. I'd seen him take the hit in the middle of it all, clubbed to the back of his bad leg by a firefly. His limp was worse than it usually was, by no means crippling, but enough to have me worried. Him and Laohi, two Hornets with bad legs, it was a miracle they were still around, but they pulled their weight at least. So long as they continued to do so, there would be no issue. It was only a question of how long they could keep it up.

I tried not to think about it.

"So what happened?!" Shen asked. "You kill the fuckin' firefly?"

"Course he did!" Shirak declared. "Look at his knife! Bloody as shit!"

"N-no," Fluke intervened. "Didn't kill him, no. Just gave him a cut across his face so he'd let me go."

"Fuckin' sick," Riso sighed wistfully.

"Should watch your ass then, Fluke," Aden started, one of the few who'd never quite grown comfortable with Fluke's being here. "Firefly'll be looking for payback. Gonna have to keep an eye while you sleep at all-"

"Oh, knock it off," Saku lightly punched his shoulder, stopping him before he could get any further.

"Still won't be as cool as mine," Chote said meekly in reference to his own scar across his mouth.

Taking advantage of the brief intermission in the story, Letan looked deeper into the cafeteria, catching sight of Ladle in time to say, "Ey, Ladle. What's the hold up!"

"I'm on it, damnit. You'll get your shit. Bitchin' won't make it come any quicker."

"Not for me, dumbass. For Fluke! Get him a cold one. On us!"

"For Fluke?! Fat fuckin' chance."

"Ah come on," Riso turned, joining in. "Kid just cut up a firefly for us. Think that's deserving of a cold water and a clean glass."

"You want cold water, wait for winter!"

"Clean glass at least?" Letan pleaded, eyes wide to accentuate his please.

There was a pause. Ladle was none too happy about any of this. He was a difficult man to please, and it'd take more than Fluke getting lucky once to convince him his stomach was worth filling. "Fine," he eventually gave in however.

There was a cheer across the table, and of more note, a faint smile on Fluke's face.

"So how'd it go again?" Shen asked. "Way you nabbed the firefly?!"

Fluke opened his mouth to speak, but Riso was quicker to speak, saying, "Was fucking nuts. Firefly had him dangling over the roof, knife to his throat, but Fluke wrestled it out of his hand, cut him across the mouth, kicked off the wall and-"

"The fuck?!" Fluke scoffed aloud, clearly amused however. "Didn't happen like that at all!"

"Well fine," Riso crossed his arms. "You tell it then," he conceded, as though he was any better an authority than Fluke to speak of the events that had happened to him.

"Not nearly as badass as that, I'm afraid," Fluke chuckled. "Had me by the throat though. Was choking me out. Just barely reached for his shank in his waistband," Fluke continued, grabbing the knife out of Shen's curious hands as part of the demonstration. "And cut him across the face just in time before I blacked out." He swung the knife, nowhere near close enough to any Hornets to put them at risk, but close enough that they momentarily reared, watching in silent awe, none so impressed with the story as they were it was about Fluke, the scrawny, wry info broker. More than anything else, however, it was a welcoming. They'd made up their mind.

The cafeteria sat in silence as Ladle set down the cup of water, in a glass that only made it look slightly grimy. Or perhaps it truly was the water. Ladle had made no promises there, but none were paying attention to it anyway as their eyes sat on Fluke.

"Badass," Riso finally said, breaking the silence, making way for a new wave of chatter, of questions, of awe expressed.

They would go into telling their own tales then. They'd heard Fluke's, and so it was time for them to share tales of their own conquests, of battles won, of opponents overpowered, of it all. The dismissal of Fluke's tale was not an insult, no. His was just one more story for the others to faun over tonight.

The sentiment was clear. So far a they were concerned, Fluke was a Hornet.

It was enough that I couldn't suppress a smile as I ate my last mouthful of broth, setting the bowl down.

Not all would see it that way, however. Not yet, at least, which brought my mind to the topic at hand. Riu needed to see me.

Fluke was in good hands. That much was clear, and so I felt no hesitation in rising from where I sat, Fluke's wandering eyes following me for only a brief moment before turning to the others, a smile on his face that I don't believe I'd seen in over a month.

Let him enjoy the night, I told myself. He's earned it.

I left the cafeteria, en route for Riu's room, praying that Riu would see things the same way I did.

Riu's room, not too dissimilar from the others save for the fact that there was actual furniture that had been salvaged across the slums over the years, was not much of a walk from the cafeteria. I knew well that Riu would have much preferred something more indicative of his "status", but seeing as how taking the reception area would leave him exposed to the outside world, and how anything else save a normal room in the Hive would render him away from the action as well as a vulnerable target, he had to stick with this.

Of course, he'd made the place his own, as I could see upon being permitted entrance, seated across a pinewood desk that I remember us pulling out of a decaying library that'd been housing a number of squatters we'd been paid by the Lawmakers to dispose of. Already then, we'd been planning for the future, setting up the Hive, putting the pieces in place. And here he was, his own slice of the slums, an office of his own: a salvaged desk, a suspended mattress on a rotting wooden foundation, a straw pillow, a makeshift shelf, and his prized possession, an ornamented knife sitting atop it, steel, wrapped in crimson leather, scripted on it down the blade, "Ours is the White Dawn." I knew the story behind it, pried from the dead hands of a Fire Nation recruiter, and I knew the truth behind it as well.

"What's up?" I asked as I sat across from him on a chair that had been similarly pulled from a dumpster. Riu, of course, was atop an armchair he'd made a personal mission of taking from Shohen, the now deceased leader of the Lawmakers.

"Things went pretty alright today, wouldn't you say?"

So that's what this is.

I'd been opposed from the beginning, and he'd made note of it. It wasn't the first time this last month. There'd been the business with Fluke, the question regarding Bee, and then our method of tackling the Firefly problem. I knew what Riu was thinking. Perhaps in his shoes, I would have been just as paranoid, but all I did, I did for the Hornets. Sometimes, I think I'd been right, but other times, namely this, Riu had proven why it was he was in charge, not me.

"You were right," I confessed. "We got our payment and then some, the fireflies are dealt with, and no doubt the message is already out there."

"We won't be needing to look over our shoulders for more pretenders," he affirmed. "At least not for the time being."

There was a moment of pause. I knew what he wanted. To rub it in, to ensure I was more than aware that he'd been right. Eventually, of course, it did come.

"I need to know that you're with me."

"Of course I am, Riu."

"Because you've been against me on nearly everything I've done this last month. Fluke, Bee, the Fireflies-"

"I've been trying to help us. You know where my loyalties are, Riu."

He sighed, looking towards his desk, the reward for his disloyalty, among many other things. I'd been with him, from the very beginning. We'd been traitors alongside one another, and we'd made it work. Somehow. "I know."

I nodded my head, thankful that topic was at the least done with.

Was that all.

"On the topic of Fluke," he started, forcing me to now prepare myself for a topic I knew was likely headed nowhere good, and so I took the initiative where I could.

"He did well for himself tonight," I started. "Kept watch, did his job, and even held his own."

"Barely."

"He's only twelve."

"So were you when you killed the Lawmakers with me. He's too old to be having a panic attack the second he sheds some blood."

"He's not used to it," I defended him. "But he has the right instincts. He's quick on his feet, clever, and doesn't freeze up."

"But is he loyal?"

Is he- I was on the verge of echoing the very question, unable to understand how he could ask that after the last month, but when I asked the question myself, was he?

Still, I had to defend him. Somebody had to. "It's been a month and he's still here, isn't he? Hasn't run, hasn't stolen, hasn't-"

"Hasn't had the chance yet."

"He's had more than enough chances to do so, today especially. Could easily have run off the second we sent him out to get firefly numbers."

"He knows we would have found him."

"When won't we find him?! Riu, he knows the consequences of running, and at this point, he has more reason to stay than to go."

"So he's self-seeking."

"Who among us isn't, Riu? We're not zealots, we're survivors. We band together because it's our best chance of survival. Which is exactly why we left the Lawmakers."

There was a pause. Riu was none too keen on when I used our own model of disloyalty as a way to excuse the acts of others. Riu only liked his example being used when it reflected positively on him. One of his more hypocritical traits.

"I need to know he won't betray us. He's been on his own for a long time, he has friends in the Rats. It's different for him. I need to know where his priorities are."

"What?" I scoffed, wondering if Riu had already forgotten of when Fluke, through his actions, saved Bee and Saku at the cost of a Hornet life. "Want to send him to assassinate a Rat?"

"No," Riu answered, clearly not amused, bearing a look on his face that, already, spoke of little jest. "But I did have something else in mind."