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It was late, or perhaps early depending on the hour, when Hanzo slowly awakened. He could not immediately place what woke him up in the first place, but he did not dwell on the why. He could sense no danger, and his dreams were a pleasant impression. There was an air of peacefulness as he languidly stretched, relishing the crisp coolness ever present so high up on a mountain, idly noting the lack of heat usually pressed against his back. Hanzo was not surprised to find Kuai Liang absent from their bed.
A regular sleep pattern and Kuai Liang were unsteady companions at best, so it was not uncommon for Hanzo to wake, see Kuai Liang doing anything from meditating to pacing, and then fall back to sleep. Occasionally, there are more disturbing reasons for a late night. Neither Hanzo nor Kuai Liang were strangers to nightmares, and more often than not, sleep would not come for them again. On those nights, they would stay awake with each other, sometimes speaking of what dark thoughts are plaguing their mind, or sometimes distracting themselves with sparring.
Tonight, however, Hanzo did not feel the underlying tension that would hang ominously in the air from a nightmare. Instead, it was quiet and still, and he could see the moon, hanging heavy and full, through the window. Taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of such a natural light, Hanzo slipped out of bed and sought out Kuai Liang.
The Lin Kuei Temple was large and imposing, full of narrow stone bridges across gaping expanses. But there was also a simple beauty in its austerity. Fresh snow had fallen at some point in the evening, and the surfaces were covered in a fine powder that seemed to glow under the moonlight. This high up in a remote mountain meant there was little pollution to dilute the sky. Stars, more than he had ever seen, dotted every bit of the night sky, their flickering light painting rivers of illumination. He imagined reaching into the sky and touching them for how close they appeared.
Hanzo continued to study the stars as he meandered the stone path leading to the grandmaster’s inner courtyard. When he drew closer to the garden walls, he could feel a change in the air, and as he approached the moon gate, it was as if he ran into an invisible wall of ice. The temperature abruptly dropped and there was a prickling sensation across his skin. It was quintessentially Kuai Liang’s powers.
He paused at the entrance of the moon gate, helpless but to admire the way Kuai Liang was framed in the center, his movements slow, soft, and flowing. This was not one of his forms used to train his body to attack and defend with deliberate efficiency. This was something calming and formless, contemplative rather than destroying.
Kuai Liang as Sub-Zero, Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, was as severe as the mountain he called home and cold as the ice he wielded. He was a master of poise and self-control. Kuai Liang as Kuai Liang, Grandmaster of Hanzo’s heart, was soft in ways he rarely allowed himself and warm in the kindness he offered. He was sometimes a bit of a mess and unrestrained in his affection. It was at times like this that Kuai Liang could just simply be. His hair hung loose, strands fluttering every which way in the soft breeze and with his eyes closed and face relaxed, Hanzo could tell that whatever had bothered Kuai Liang enough to pull him out of bed, he had found some sort of peace.
It was rare for Hanzo to witness Kuai Liang in an unstructured state, but not unwelcome. In truth, he found it beautiful.
With careful steps, Hanzo entered the courtyard and silently walked the perimeter until he could settle in the small stone pagoda towards the back. From this angle, Hanzo could see the entirety of the garden courtyard, and he could truly admire the vision before him.
Kuai Liang never paused in his movements, always in motion, each movement flowing into the next seamlessly. His steps barely disturbed the snow on the ground. Hanzo realized fresh flakes of snow were lazily drifting in the air around Kuai Liang, and as he studied the glittering trails, he saw some of the flakes dancing around Kuai Liang. It was such an innocent use of his power. There was a purity to the ice Kuai Liang effortlessly commanded, purity in its beauty and purity in its destruction. Kuai Liang once told him the cold and ice does not differentiate between friend, foe, or user. It simply was. How it was controlled made it a gift or a curse.
In years past, the feeling of ice and magic building around him would have set Hanzo on edge and he would have prepared himself for an attack. Now, it was a comfort. It was as familiar to him as his own fire.
The full moon’s light refracted endlessly off the crystalline snowflakes creating a glittering array to rival the stars in the night sky. Hanzo marveled at the ethereal beauty the stark mountain temple offered to those willing to look. He relaxed into the moment, losing himself to the flow of movements and the air of tranquility.
Eventually, Hanzo could sense when Kuai Liang was finishing. The chill in the air became more pronounced, and the snowflakes moving around him began to slow and dissipate amongst the falling snow. Kuai Liang drew himself up, inhaling deeply, and suddenly, the snowflakes paused in mid-air, as if frozen in place by an even greater cold. But then, Kuai Liang exhaled, his shoulders dropping, and the snow resumed its lazy descent. He slowly opened his eyes and immediately turned to Hanzo with a small smile.
“I hope I did not wake you,” he said as he walked towards Hanzo.
“No, though you know I would not have minded if you did,” Hanzo replied. He grabbed Kuai Liang’s hand and tugged. “You are free to share your troubles with me.”
Kuai Liang straddled his lap, settling comfortably so he could directly face Hanzo. That same small smile continued to play on his lips as he leaned forward and rested their foreheads together.
“I know,” he murmured, eventually tilting his face so their lips almost brushed.
Hanzo would not be distracted from this conversation, but he was also not going to deny himself the pleasure of Kuai Liang’s affection. Only, as he was ready to press their lips together, a shock of cold to the sides of his waist caused him to make a most undignified yelp as his body jerked hard enough to topple the both of them. He smacked Kuai Liang’s shoulder who was laughing uncontrollably. Hanzo received no help from Kuai Liang with righting themselves, and once he felt balanced again, he pried Kuai Liang’s icy hands from inside his robe. This experienced, feared, and dignified man was an absolute child.
“When will you stop doing that?” Hanzo growled.
“When it ceases to amuse me,” Kuai Liang chuckled.
Before Hanzo could retort, Kuai Liang finally kissed him. It was a quick press of their lips, but no less loving. Hanzo rolled his eyes as Kuai Liang shuffled around, rearranging their positions until he was settled between Hanzo’s legs, back pressed to his chest. He gripped Hanzo’s arms and wrapped them around himself before leaning his head back to rest on Hanzo’s shoulder. For his part, Hanzo allowed Kuai Liang to maneuver them to his liking, pleased he was now confident enough in their relationship to do what he wanted.
“Comfortable?” Hanzo asked with a smile as he felt Kuai Liang relax into his hold.
“Yes,” Kuai Liang sighed contentedly. “The moon is lovely tonight. It is rare to see the sky so clearly. It seemed a shame to not admire it.”
Indeed, Hanzo could agree that it was something to be admired. The fact that he could share such beauty with Kuai Liang made this moment all the more precious. He was familiar with the dull ache of loss when he remembered his wife and son, but at peace that he no longer suffered the all consuming rage of vengeance. The world continued to turn, night becoming day, and hatred growing into love. After losing Harumi and Satoshi, Hanzo had resigned himself to never knowing that contentment and joy again, yet here he was, experiencing it once more. He vowed to never take his time with Kuai Liang for granted.
“I am glad you are here with me,” Kuai Liang murmured.
Hanzo rolled his shoulder so Kuai Liang’s head could rest in the crook of his neck. He rested his cheek to the top of Kuai Liang’s head, lacing their fingers together.
“I will always be here with you, even when I am not,” Hanzo whispered, disinclined to disturb the silence of the courtyard.
Kuai Liang hummed in tired agreement, nuzzling his face closer. Hanzo gently stroked his thumb across Kuai Liang’s hand, gradually feeling their opposite body temperatures reach an equilibrium. And even though he wanted to drift off with Kuai Liang, Hanzo was determined to know what disturbed Kuai Liang’s rest.
“What weighed on your mind so much that it took you from our bed? The moon alone is not enough to wake you.”
It was unsurprising he did not receive an answer immediately. Kuai Liang was deliberate and concise, speaking only when he was prepared to. That was fine. There was no need to rush. Where they were, they had all the time in the world.
“There is only the Lin Kuei,” Kuai Liang finally spoke, though distant sounding, as if he were quoting something rote. “Everything was always, ‘for the Lin Kuei’. Even now, it is still for the Lin Kuei. I think I am tired.”
He paused and Hanzo waited. Speaking of his days with the old Lin Kuei tended to put Kuai Liang in a melancholy mood. It had taken time, but Hanzo eventually understood how complicated it was for Kuai Liang to remember. He recognized the Lin Kuei was terrible, a force for greed and power, kidnapping children and brainwashing them to fill their ranks. However, Kuai Liang also recognized that, for all that they were taught not to make attachments, the Lin Kuei had been the closest approximation of a family he had, people he had grown up with, who, despite the efforts of the grandmaster, shared a life together. And for all that Bi-Han had been the epitome of the Lin Kuei and all it stood for, he had still been Kuai Liang’s brother, and though it was likely one-sided, Kuai Liang had still loved him as his brother.
It was at times like these that Hanzo was reminded of how Kuai Liang was raised. Taken before he could remember what a normal life was like, Kuai Liang had only known the Lin Kuei. Even as he had doubted the teachings, Kuai Liang had been devoted to the Lin Kuei, devoted enough to dedicate his entire being into re-creating it into something better. His dedication and determination were a testament to his honor, however, Hanzo wondered how often Kuai Liang had ever taken time for himself.
Hanzo knew how all consuming a singular objective could be, how easy it was to be lost to it. But he also knew the reprieve of letting it go. He wanted Kuai Liang to know that peace as well. While he would never be able, or even want to walk away from the Lin Kuei, Hanzo was resolute that Kuai Liang experience a freedom of self.
“I will never stop defending Earthrealm, but sometimes I cannot help but feel it is a hopeless cause,” Kuai Liang stated with a heavy sigh. “No matter what I do, it does not matter. I know this is not actually true, but…here I am.”
“Your heart is too kind for the world you were born into,” Hanzo mused, tightening his hold. “You have the right to feel what you feel. There is nothing wrong with this. Because in the end, you do what needs to be done. There is no challenge you cannot, and do not rise to meet.”
“There are a lot of challenges to meet,” Kuai Liang snorted. “Speaking of, do you think anything will come of General Blade’s mission to Outworld?”
“Hopefully, it is nothing, but we will be prepared nonetheless,” Hanzo assured. “We will face whatever it may be together.”
“Together,” Kuai Liang repeated wonderously. “With you by my side, I see a much brighter world. That is what I was marveling at earlier.”
“And you have the gall to tell me I am the sentimental one,” Hanzo smiled into Kuai Liang’s hair. “It is easy to marvel with this view. The moonlight makes the snow seem to glow.”
“Let us do this again, at the next full moon,” Kuai Liang hummed, slumping heavier in Hanzo’s arms. “This night, this moment, feels as if the world outside of this garden does not exist. There is you, me, and only the moon to witness us.”
So filled with love for the man in his arms, he could only answer with an affirmative sound and squeezed Kuai Liang tight. He felt, more than heard, Kuai Liang laugh. Hanzo was humbled and honored to share this life with Kuai Liang.
He briefly thought about suggesting they return to their room, but he did not want to disturb Kuai Liang, who appeared to be dozing. His breathing was slowly deepening and Hanzo could feel he was supporting Kuai Liang’s entire weight. His head lolled to the side, and Hanzo drew comfort from the steady puffs of cool air against his neck.
Snow continued to softly drift around the garden, and Hanzo was content to bask in the moonlight with Kuai Liang resting peacefully in his arms. This was what he would fight for with all his might. This, right here and now, was all he wanted for their future.