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Considering how significant the revelation is, the incident that caused it is rather small.
Hao knows he’s powerful. Perhaps not as powerful as some of his demigods exaggerate, but powerful nonetheless. Still, he, like any other demigod, has his weaknesses. Once, Ricky jokingly asked Kuanjui what he’d say Hao’s three biggest weaknesses were. Kuanjui had said the following:
- He’s terrible at waking up in the mornings.
- He’s very easily startled.
- He’s “sparky.”
Personally, he finds the last one unfair. Yes, it’s true that when he’s exhausted his electrokinesis is the first to go haywire. And maybe that does primarily manifest as sparks emitting from his skin. But it’s only happened a few times! The “Sparky” nickname Keita came up with is extremely unwarranted!
Regardless. What matters is that Hao is currently awake at an ungodly hour (eight AM), all because two psychopaths (Matthew and Gunwook) wanted to drag their friends into their devious schemes (having a breakfast picnic on Half-Blood Hill). Everyone’s chatter fades into background noise, as Hao nearly nods off for the nth time that morning, catching himself from tipping over in the nick of time.
“Seriously,” Taerae chuckles, when Hao shakes himself awake again with great effort. Next to him, Gyuvin is sneaking a hand towards his plate of bacon. “What’s with you today? We have breakfast at this time every day, but I’ve never seen you this tired in the morning.”
“Slept late,” Hao mumbles, rubbing his eyes in a futile effort to feel more alert. After Hanbin woke both of them up at an (actual) ungodly hour last night, it’s a miracle Hao even managed to make it here in time.
“Not you, too.” Matthew looks exasperated. “Are Gyuvin’s terrible sleeping habits rubbing off on you? You shouldn’t learn from him.”
“Hey,” Gyuvin complains, right after successfully stealing Taerae’s bacon. “Why is it my fault? Yujin was up late too.”
Yujin blinks up owlishly from his plate. “How did you know?”
“Whatever.” Matthew side-eyes Gyuvin sneaking another piece of Taerae’s breakfast. Taerae, somehow, still hasn’t noticed a thing. “How are Jiwoon and Hanbin still not here? Does it take that long to prepare canoes?”
“Oh?”
Taerae and Gunwook exchange glances. When they turn to Matthew, they’re sporting matching grins.
“Do you miss your Jiwoonie already?”
“Is poor Matthew wondering when his not-boyfriend will return back from the war?”
“It’s only been thirty minutes but to you it feels like thirty years—”
“You—” Matthew jumps to his feet, prompting a giggling Taerae to take off running while Gunwook collapses into Yujin’s side from laughing so hard. Amidst the chaos, Gyuvin crunches on a third slice of bacon.
Hao can only smile, as the chaos continues to unfold. It’s so…carefree, here. He’s only been here for a week (ten days, technically, if you count the three where he was unconscious), and notwithstanding the general sense of wrongness from being so far from Camp Jupiter, he feels…accepted. He’s been welcomed so warmly, given a spot amongst the camp that’s not his, even befriended. Perhaps this place will never quite be home, but…
…Hm. Where did that thought come from?
His mind wanders. To Fujian, the place he was born, that he can barely remember beyond the vague outline of a backyard. To the cramped apartment in New York City, that was somehow still too big. To Camp Jupiter, where he was dropped into with no explanation and no choice but to thrive. So many places that once gave him a roof to sleep under, so many places that were his but never quite.
It’s not like him to be so nostalgic. He considers himself a future-oriented person, using his goals as motivation for the present. The only time he does let himself think of the past is for—
“Boo!”
“AH!”
Hao nearly leaps out of his skin, when two hands smack down on his shoulders and physically startle him out of his stupor. Beyond the sound of his racing heartbeat in his ears, there’s the unmistakable sound of laughter.
“Hanbin!” he whines, turning to be met with a dimpled remorseless grin. “Don’t do that!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Hanbin laughs, not sounding sorry at all. His eyes twinkle with mirth and sunlight. “Good morning, lovely. Did you miss me?”
“No,” Hao grumbles, shifting to make room for Hanbin to sit by his side. Hanbin does so eagerly, slinging an arm around his waist. “Go away. Who asked you to come here?”
“Last I checked, we were invited by the same person.”
“I can’t believe what the world has come to.”
“If you have a problem, I guess you’ll have to talk to Gunwook—” He directs his attention to Gunwook as he speaks, only to pause. “Whoa. What happened to you guys?”
Confused, Hao follows his gaze. On Hao’s opposite side, Gunwook is rubbing at his arms with a grimace. Gyuvin and Yujin, sitting farther away, don’t show signs of similar discomfort, although their hair is standing slightly on end.
“Hao,” Gyuvin says, attempting to smooth Yujin’s hair down. “I think you sent out a shock. Or…something.”
Oh. Hao feels his own cheeks heat from embarrassment. “Oh, gods, I’m so sorry—Gunwook, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Gunwook smiles at him easily in reassurance, although it fades to something more pensive after a bit. “I thought it was because Hanbin surprised you, but…did you not feel anything, Hanbin?”
“…No?” After a moment of patting himself down, he just shrugs. “I feel fine.”
“Huh.” Gunwook rubs his hand on the grass, as if trying to rid any excess static. “I guess that makes sense.”
“No way.”
Out of nowhere, Taerae slides back into the circle, apparently done with his chase scene with Matthew, who’s also approaching them with Jiwoong at his side. Taerae narrows his eyes as he looks between Hanbin and Hao, before clapping his hands loudly.
“I knew it!” he crows triumphantly. “I said you’d get together soon! And I was right!”
“Wait, what?!” Matthew’s jaw drops. The rest of their circle has exploded into a similar state of bewilderment. “You’re dating? Since when? What happened?”
As the two of them fend off everyone’s questions, Hao is somewhat distracted. He peeks at Hanbin, then at his right hand (thankfully spark free), then at Hanbin again.
Hanbin had been in direct contact with him. There’s no way his electricity would’ve just missed. If even Gyuvin and Yujin had felt it from the opposite side of their circle, Hanbin must’ve felt something. But he seems completely fine. There’s not a single piece of hair out of place on his head.
Gunwook had said it “makes sense.” Gyuvin had also nodded in agreement at that. It “makes sense” for Hanbin to not have felt anything. And if Hanbin really didn’t get hurt…then is it because he’s immune to electricity? Somehow?
Hao considers this. Sends an experimental buzz down Hanbin’s arm. Waits.
Hanbin keeps talking, sentence not faltering even for a second.
…Huh. How—
“Gyuvin!” Taerae smacks the offending son of Hebe on the arm. “Stop stealing my food!”
An apple goes flying across the blanket, and Hao has to duck to avoid getting decapitated when it goes off course, and the incident is quickly, and temporarily, forgotten.
“Why do you have a monster-infested forest inside your camp borders?”
After breakfast, Hanbin managed to dodge the rest of their interrogating and teasing by escaping to the forest, citing a need to meet with a dryad. Hao, not keen on suffering alone, immediately decided to go with him. The forest itself is quite peaceful at first glance, ground cast in mottled warm light and air undisturbed save for the occasional rustle or bird’s song. If they didn’t have their weapons drawn, Hao could’ve convinced himself that this was just an ordinary nature walk.
“Practice.” Hanbin gives him a crooked grin. “It’s nothing crazy. No one’s ever died, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Hao side-eyes the deep claw marks gouged into a nearby tree trunk. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”
“What, are you scared? Do you need me to protect you?”
Hanbin cackles as Hao shoves him, then catches Hao’s hand with his own, lightly swinging them together. He’s so touchy—even more than before—now that there’s no fear holding back his true desires. Hao is so horribly endeared.
“I hate you.”
“You said something very different last night.”
“Semantics.” He bumps Hanbin’s shoulder without much force. Their intertwined hands, and the peaceful ambience, and the reminder of last night…it all coalesces into one thought, that he for some reason voices into existence. “Is it sad that this is the closest we can get to a real date?”
Hanbin almost trips over his own feet. “Wh—what?”
“Nothing.” Hao fights the urge to laugh. If Hanbin’s this ruffled by the idea then they should probably save this conversation for later. “What do you need to see your dryad friend for? What’s her name…Maple?”
“Uh…yeah.” Hanbin clears his throat, sounding more composed, but the tips of his ears are still red. Endearing. “I wanted to follow up on something that I heard, when I went to the Underworld a few days ago. Oh—” Hanbin stops in his tracks, bringing Hao to a stop as well. “I never told you what happened.”
Hao tilts his head. “Well, when you got back there was Capture the Flag to deal with, and then the day after was the whole…potion thing…so I understand. We haven’t really had the time.”
“It’s bad news.” Hanbin has sobered quickly, expression shadowed by the forest canopy. “Thanatos is missing.”
Hao gapes. If this were anyone else, he would accuse them of joking around, but this is Hanbin. He can distinguish Hanbin’s lies, and this isn’t one of them. “So that’s why monsters aren’t staying dead?”
A solemn nod. “And the Doors of Death have been opened.”
He has to roll the unfamiliar term around in his head a few times. “Doors of Death?”
Hanbin explains. Thanatos, the god of death and Pluto’s lieutenant, is the main entity regulating the border between life and death, ensuring the dead stay in the Underworld. The Doors of Death are his personal “fast lane” between the two domains. Where they are and how they work are both secrets to only Thanatos.
“But they got taken over,” Hao finishes, frowning. “And Thanatos is…missing? As in, he just left?”
“‘Taken’ might be a better way to put it,” Hanbin says. “Persephone’s exact words were that…he’s being held captive by the son of Gaea, in the land beyond the gods.”
Son of Gaea. Land beyond the gods.
“…Hao?” Despite Hao having taken great effort to not react outwardly, Hanbin is looking at him with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“The land beyond the gods,” Hao echoes faintly. The land where the legion lost almost all their glory, mere decades ago. “This— has to be a coordinated effort. Gaea’s minions must be behind both. They want control over who to bring back. They could have complete say over who lives and who dies, they could keep their forces alive forever—”
“Breathe.” Hanbin runs a thumb across the back of his hand. He sounds calm enough, but his furrowed brow betrays the way his mind must be running a million miles an hour. “Okay. One thing at a time. Once we’re out of here, we’ll find Chiron—”
“Once you’re out of here?”
Hao stiffens at the new voice, sensing the changing air pressure before the sky above darkens. He lets go of Hanbin’s hand to properly hold his rope dart, and the two have to fight the sudden windstorm to stay back to back. Around them, shapes begin materializing from the air—miniature storms contained into writhing dark masses, smokey and crackling with electricity.
“‘Nothing crazy’?” Hao has to shout to be heard over the wind. “Are storm spirits your idea of ‘nothing crazy’?!”
“This is obviously an exception!”
One of the venti laughs, causing a ripple effect of laughter through their ranks. “Consider yourselves lucky, half-bloods,” it rasps, spreading its dark wings. “You will have the glory of being killed by our mistress!”
Lightning shoots from its fingertips, directly at them. Quickly, Hao shoots his rope dart out, and the lightning absorbs into its point. The next shot flies in the opposite direction with a snap of his elbow, and vaporizes a ventus to dust.
They’re certainly not laughing anymore. Several of them lunge forward, and their fight begins in earnest.
Hao’s not sure who this “mistress” is that they serve, but either she or the venti (or both) must not be very bright. Storm spirits, against a son of Jupiter? Please. He could fight an army of them with his eyes closed.
Luckily, because of their nature, the venti have a very hard time reforming, even with death supposedly unregulated. Their own brethren’s winds keep the golden dust well scattered, and it’s practically no time at all until Hao has cleared out the last one on his side.
Hanbin is making quick work of the remaining venti, when Hao looks over. He slashes at one, and turns around when it disperses, but consequently doesn’t notice that the ventus had only shifted into vapor without dying. It grins, beginning to emanate an ominous light.
“Hanbin!”
Hanbin, having just defeated the penultimate ventus , turns toward Hao’s voice in alarm, but it’s too late—lightning arcs down, and Hanbin disappears behind blinding white.
The ventus is grinning, eyes alight with a mad glee—
—and then Hanbin’s daggers slice through its body, and its happiness dies along with it, leaving no sign except for glittering gold that quickly dissolves with one last gust.
“Gods,” Hanbin huffs, sheathing one dagger and freeing a hand to brush the hair from his eyes. He rolls his shoulders back almost casually—far too casually for someone just struck by lightning. “Thanks for the warning. Are you okay?”
“Am I okay? How did you do that?!”
He just blinks, his confusion only confirming Hao’s suspicions. “Do what?”
Although clearly oblivious to what happened, he still lets Hao check him over for injuries. Hao can hardly believe it—he’s completely unscathed. His clothes aren’t even singed.
“See? I’m fine.” Hanbin pokes his cheek, smiling when Hao scrunches his face up in reaction. “No need to worry.”
Even when they resume their walk further into the forest, Hao keeps replaying that moment in his head. Hanbin, getting engulfed in the lightning blast. Emerging as if nothing happened.
This, and his suspicions from earlier that morning…it adds up.
Hanbin can resist electricity. No, judging by what just happened, he’s completely immune.
But…how?
“Is it possible for demigods to have immunity to electricity?”
“‘Good morning, Kuanjui.’ ‘How are you, Kuanjui?’ ‘How’s the camp doing in my fellow praetor’s very capable and very abandoned hands?’” In the square of rainbow light, Kuanjui turns to the opposite side, playing out the second half of the conversation. “Oh, I’m fine, thanks so much for asking, my dear and considerate friend—”
“Oh my gods,” Hao groans. “Yes, hi, I hope you haven’t burned down the camp yet. Happy?”
“Rude,” Kuanjui huffs. “To answer your question, though…not that I know of. Outside children of Jupiter, at least. Maybe if they have special armor, or some kind of blessing…?” He squints. “Why do you ask?”
Hao takes a second to needlessly check his surroundings. He’s in the Poseidon cabin, borrowing its fountain for this Iris-message, and the weird rules here ensure no one will even think about entering without also getting Hanbin’s explicit permission, but his paranoid habits can’t be helped. Especially with this method of communication neither of them are very familiar with (he’s never even heard of Iris-messaging before getting here, and one of his best friends is Iris’s son). From what he can tell, Kuanjui is in the principia; another location unlikely to allow eavesdroppers.
“Something happened when we ran into venti earlier. And, speaking of which…”
Hao updates him on everything they now know. They had only just returned from talking to Maple; Hanbin is setting up a meeting with Chiron as they speak. Kuanjui’s eyebrows inch further and further upwards. When he mentions the land beyond the gods, Kuanjui outright curses.
“That’s suicide,” he says. “Hao, the 1980s expedition took the entire Fifth Cohort, and it was still unsuccessful. Almost everyone died. You won’t have those numbers—”
“I know. Trust me, I know.”
Hao exhales, pinching the bridge of his nose. Thinking about it—the expedition that caused the Fifth Cohort and lost the legion’s eagle and nearly all its Imperial gold—never fails to give him a headache. It’s the reason Hao and Kuanjui had to fight so hard to get to where they are now. So much prejudice and unmitigated bullying, all because of a Fifth Cohort legionnaire too prideful for his own good.
“We don’t have a choice,” he says eventually. “If Thanatos is there, we have to free him.”
“Hao—”
“It’s fine.” Hao squares his shoulders, meeting Kuanjui’s eyes head on. “I can do it. I’ve done the impossible before, haven’t I?” Then, quieter, “I’m not going to break our promise.”
Kuanjui sighs, running a hand through his hair. His distress is clear even through the misty screen. Hao wishes he could reach through the screen and hug him, even just for a second. From how Kuanjui raises and lowers a hand, he wonders if he’s thinking the same thing.
“You better not,” he mutters. “I’ll kill you myself if you do.”
“You can try,” Hao teases, glad to see Kuanjui’s spirits somewhat lifted when he snorts in response. “How is everything on your end? Anything I should know?”
“Well, actually…” Kuanjui hesitates. “Have you heard from Ricky at all?”
Ricky? Hao frowns, shaking his head. The last time they spoke was several days ago, and even then their conversation had been cut off by Jeonghyeon’s arrival. “Should I have?”
“He’s—”
A knocking sound rings out, that causes Kuanjui to turn to something out of view. “I have to go,” he says hurriedly. “Call me later.”
“Wait—”
The image fizzles out, and Hao is left staring into empty air.
Why did he mention Ricky? Was Hao supposed to have heard from him? Hao studies the drachmas lining the bottom of the fountain. He could try to Iris-message, but…
A knock, this time on his end, at the door to the cabin.
Right. The meeting. Hao sighs, looking one last time at the fountain, before pushing himself away.
He’s the only one to blame here. He’s the one who chose to leave Camp Jupiter regardless of his duties. The only reason he’s out of the loop with his own camp is his irresponsibility. Some Roman he is.
He can only hope that by the end of all this, he’ll still have a home to go back to.
Hao doesn’t have a good track record for meetings with Chiron.
His first one had been a couple hours after waking up in the infirmary, with Hanbin by his side. Chiron, although polite and mild-mannered, very evidently did not know what to do with Hao’s presence. He implied, quite heavily, that it shouldn’t even be possible for him to be here (which Hao didn’t quite understand—Ricky had discovered the existence of this place just fine), and when pressed further could only say he was sworn to secrecy on the rest.
“You should not speak of the place you came from to anyone,” Chiron had said, and it sounded like an order. “Not until we have more answers.”
“Ah…” Hao glanced at Hanbin, who was already smiling sheepishly. “About that…”
When Chiron looked between them, something unreadable flickered across his face, something like a mix of surprise and disbelief. “How much did you already say?” Then, when the two of them exchanged another glance, he just sighed. “You must both practice extreme discretion, then. Understood?”
His second one had unfortunately been without Hanbin, right after the Hecate cabin’s potion debacle. Hao had gone to give his account of the situation, shortly after Jiwoong did, but hadn’t expected Chiron to extend the meeting beyond that.
“Hao,” Chiron said, after a long pause, “the two of you are risking a great deal.”
Hao tensed. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said evenly.
“I have seen it many times, throughout all my years.” The centaur’s eyes were distant, a thousand years away. “Children of the Big Three do not get along. Their sheer power makes them too volatile to cooperate. They are destined to fall apart. The Greeks and Romans are separated by a rift dating back to ancient times. What’s more, the Prophecy of Nine…” A beat. “Do you understand the extent of what awaits you?”
“It’s not fair to judge us based on people we don’t even know,” Hao said, crossing his arms. “I knew Hanbin before I knew anything about the gods. I won’t let the same fate happen to us.”
“Several heroes have gone mad trying and failing to defy fate. Do not let yourself become one of them.” His shoulders sagged, and for the first time Hao could truly see the extent of his age, the old grief and exhaustion that lined his face. “Speak with Hanbin about what he learned in the Underworld. You both must be certain of the path you intend to take, if you are to face her.”
“…‘Her’?”
Chiron had only given him the briefest of explanations, of Gaea’s stirring and the giants rising to power, but it was enough for Hao to put together the pieces. To understand the truth behind what really happened all those decades ago, in the land beyond the gods.
And now, in their third meeting, with Hanbin and almost everyone else from their picnic earlier that very morning, Hao has finally been tasked to explain where he’s truly from. Cementing his “other”-ness. Confirming that he’s not really one of them, nor will he ever be.
It’s the biggest meeting he’s ever had with Chiron, and it’s the most alone he’s ever felt.
“Hao.”
Someone squeezes his hand underneath the rec room table. He turns towards the speaker, and meets sea green eyes, beacons shining through cold solitude. A reminder. A message. I’m here.
“You keep mentioning the ‘land beyond the gods,’” Hanbin prompts. His grip remains where it is, grounding, comforting. “Where is it, exactly?”
“Alaska,” he answers. “Too far north to be within the reach of the gods. And from what I understand…home of Alcyoneus, the eldest giant.”
“Alcyoneus?”
Surprisingly, it’s Gyuvin that speaks up, eyes completely round.
“Gyuvin?” To his left, Jiwoong frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just…” Gyuvin frowns. “I feel like I’ve heard that name before…”
“In ancient times, after the Titan war, Gaea married Tartarus and gave birth to the giants,” Gunwook explains, somehow managing to give a perfect explanation while simultaneously crafting metal pieces together without looking. “Each giant was born to oppose a specific Olympian to enact revenge, and could only be defeated by gods and demigods together. Alcyoneus was different, though—he was impossible to kill by anyone as long as he was in his home territory.”
Which is why the expedition in the eighties failed. Hao lowers his head, deep in thought. If someone like that is their adversary…someone who once defeated an entire cohort…
“It’s too risky,” Taerae says. “Will three be enough for a quest like this?”
“A big quest group is also a risk…” Jiwoong trails off. “But an advantage in numbers would be good, too. We could try—”
“No.”
They all startle. Hao straightens his back, aware that all their attention is on him now.
“Numbers aren’t the issue,” he begins. “Camp Jupiter once sent over fifty people, and they still failed. I…I don’t want your people to pay for a mistake we made.” He takes a breath. “I’ll go.”
“What—” Matthew nearly drops his drink. “Alone?! How is that better—”
“Not alone.” This time, it’s Hanbin that speaks up. “I’ll go with you.” In the face of everyone’s shock—Hao’s included—Hanbin turns to Chiron. “We can do it.”
Chiron is frowning, one hand rubbing his chin. “Two children of the Big Three are a risk as well,” he says. “Your combined auras will attract many enemies. You wouldn’t be able to bring a third with you.”
“I mean…” Gyuvin bites his lip. “If anyone could do it, it’s the two of them. But…”
“I’m against it,” Jiwoong says. “I know you two work well together, but logistically speaking…I mean, how are you even going to travel? Traveling on land leaves you on Gaea’s home turf, but your domains oppose each other so you can’t go by air or sea either.”
“That’s true…” Taerae regards Hao carefully. “I know the gods sealed themselves off, but I don’t think we should risk Hanbin getting struck by lightning just because he got on a plane. I assume it’s a similar deal for you, Hao.”
“Oh—” Hao shifts uncomfortably. “Romans…weren’t big on sea travel. So I don’t know. But is it really a problem? Hanbin can’t get hurt by lightning anyway, right?”
“Huh?” Hanbin turns to him, as if caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
Strangely, no one else seems to know what Hao means either. Hao frowns. Surely he can’t be the only one that knows? And why is Hanbin surprised?
Matthew just shakes his head. “He’s a son of Poseidon,” he says. “There’s no way he’d have an ability like that. Besides, I’ve seen him get hurt by lightning before.”
Hanbin winces. “Yeah. I mean,” he laughs awkwardly, “I wish I had that kind of immunity. It would’ve made my life a lot easier.”
“But—” Hao doesn’t understand what’s happening anymore. Is this some kind of weird joke? “You do. I literally watched you get struck by a storm spirit’s lightning. You didn’t even react.”
“What do you mean, I got struck by lightning?!”
“Oh my gods—”
Fed up with it all, he lets go of Hanbin’s hand and pointedly snaps his fingers. An arc of blue electricity jumps to Hanbin’s skin, dissolving into smaller sparks, before fading completely, without leaving a single mark.
“See?” Hao presses. “Did you feel that?”
“I—” Hanbin stares, slack-jawed, at where the electricity hit his arm, like he’s expecting a wound to form at any second. “ What…?”
“Come to think of it…” Gunwook sets his contraption down—Hao has no idea what it is—and hums thoughtfully. “This morning, when Hao made that shockwave…you didn’t feel it, right?”
“Oh!” Gyuvin jumps in his seat, so fired up he starts shaking Hanbin’s arm. “I remember now! Do you remember when Hao first got here, and he was, like…all sparky?”
Great, not here too. Hao can feel his own face flush at the memory. Hanbin, meanwhile, just tilts his head.
“I do,” he says, still confused. “But it’s not like they did anything.”
“Speak for yourself.” Matthew huffs in mock offense. “I felt them. They hurt.”
“But Hanbin—” Gyuvin shakes him again. “Remember? When you touched Hao, the sparks went to your skin, too. Like they were being…shared? Or transmitted? And they didn’t hurt you, right?”
Gunwook’s eyes widen. “You’re saying…Hao did something to him? Like…gave him some kind of new ability?” A pause. “Is that possible?”
They turn to Chiron again. “It’s not unheard of,” he admits, studying Hao curiously. Under his scrutinizing gaze, Hao feels far too vulnerable, as if his very soul is being exposed. “Some demigods are born with innate immunities based on their godly parent, but I’ve met very few with the control and power necessary to extend them beyond the self. For one to do it without realizing is even more rare…to achieve such a thing through sheer desire alone is no small feat.”
Oh.
As Chiron talks, Hao feels more and more of his body tense up, locking like a rusty machine. His face feels too hot, from the tips of his ears to the base of his neck. Everyone is looking at him again, this time for a completely different reason, giving him attention he very much does not want.
“Wow…” Matthew’s voice is hushed with awe. “You must really care about him a lot, huh?”
Somehow, the heat only worsens. Hao ducks his head. Gods. This is so embarrassing. He’d made such a big deal of an assumption that ended up being correct, and it’s led to this. To have the full extent of his real feelings, the truth of how deep his love really runs, be declared so openly, so publicly—
“W-we don’t know if that’s even the case,” Hao mutters, very resolutely fixating on the table’s surface. “Can we please move on?”
The meeting continues, thankfully, this time without much fuss. All the while, Hao can feel an insistent stare— Hanbin’s insistent stare—on the side of his face. It takes all his willpower to ignore it. If he lets himself look at Hanbin right now, he might just die of embarrassment.
“I’m sorry.”
After the meeting ended, Hao retreated immediately to his own cabin. The entire time, he could hear someone following him, but he doesn’t try to deter them, instead wordlessly letting them into the cabin as well before shutting and locking the doors. Hao is still clutching the door handles, trying uselessly to even out his breathing. The thought of turning around, to face the person whose gaze he can feel searing into his back, is too much for him right now.
“Why are you sorry?” Hanbin’s voice, soft and sweet, just makes Hao curl in on himself more. “Nothing bad happened. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But—” Gods, his face still feels so hot. He doesn’t even want to think about how red it must look. “I—”
“Are you embarrassed?”
He can hear the laughter hidden beneath Hanbin’s voice, and lets out a noise of complaint. “Hanbin—”
“Sorry, it’s just—” This time, his laugh is unrestrained. “After you said you ‘loved me before you even knew what love was’ yesterday, I didn’t think you would get embarrassed about this. And everyone who was there already knows we’re together.”
“But—” How can he explain? That it’s one thing to confess a truth in the tranquil undisturbed hours of night, and another for someone he barely knows—Hanbin’s mentor, no less—to expose it all to Hanbin’s friends that he also technically barely knows?
He’s someone who always has perfect control of his image, of what he shares and what he lets people know about him—he had to be this way, to not be stepped over and ripped into by the rest of the legion—but here he is now, unable to control his heart to the point that it projected his desires in such an obvious way, and now everyone knows—
“Hey.”
Gentle hands close over his, pulling them away from the handles, turning him around so his back is now to the door. One reaches to tilt his chin upwards, forcing his gaze away from the floor.
“Look at me?”
He does. Hanbin’s eyes hold nothing but warmth, like light scattering across the ocean. They crinkle at the edges when he smiles, all fondness and affection.
“For the record—” He kisses Hao’s forehead. “I’m very grateful. I think anyone who finds out the love of their life wants to permanently protect them from their most dangerous power…would be just as delighted.”
“We don’t know if—”
“If it was really because of you?” Another kiss, this time on the cheek. “Come on,” he says, teasing. “You love me so much that you can’t stand the thought of me getting hurt because of you. That’s the only reason there can be. Right? Isn’t it true?”
Hao tries to imagine it. He already hates accidentally shocking his friends. The first time it happened with Kuanjui, Hao avoided him for two weeks out of utter guilt. Even now, it’s difficult to look at Matthew without recalling his pained shout from the sparks reacting. If that had been Hanbin…if he was ever the inflictor of a wound on Hanbin’s skin, or the reason behind pain on Hanbin’s nerves…if he ever got hurt by lightning and Hao wasn’t there to protect him from it…
Something ignites within him, and for a split second, he can see it—an aura of gold, dancing on Hanbin’s skin. It’s gone when he blinks again, but he can still sense it, a faint hum that resonates deep in his core, as natural as the magic flowing through his veins.
If his face flushes any hotter, he’s going to combust.
“Fine.” He tries to sound flippant, but it comes out too strangled, too flustered, and only makes Hanbin laugh again. “It’s true, okay? I love you. You already know that. Why make me say it if you already know?”
Hanbin just kisses him on the cheek again, lips cool against his feverish skin. “Maybe I just like hearing you say it.” Then, kindly, “It’s not something you need to be embarrassed of. No one will tease you for it, if you don’t want that. I can talk to them.”
“No…it’s okay.” Admitting it aloud seems to have settled something in him, at least somewhat. If the entire camp ends up finding out how head over heels he is…then so be it. Maybe…maybe it’s not such a bad thing, if it means Hanbin will smile at him like this.
“You stopped blushing,” Hanbin notes. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah…thank you.” Hao grins then, suddenly feeling mischievous. “I guess I can’t help it. It’s just too easy to love you.”
The effect is immediate. Hanbin reddens, scarlet blooming on the apples of his cheeks. “Hao,” he complains, “that wasn’t an invitation to make me blush.”
Hao kisses the pout off his lips. He meant it. Loving Hanbin just comes so easily to him, immense and all-consuming waves that send his heart soaring. Chiron had said extending immunities beyond oneself was an act of great difficulty, but it makes sense that it took no effort this time. How could it, when it’s Hanbin?
“Forgive me?” he asks, batting his eyelashes playfully. Hanbin rolls his eyes, but he’s unable to tamp down the smile still tugging at the edges of his lips.
“If I have to.” A pause. “Hao…”
“Hm?” Hao frowns at the way his smile starts to dim. Something must be on his mind. “What’s up?”
A distant conch horn sounds, and Hanbin just shakes his head.
“Nothing.” He steps away, only enough to give Hao room to open the cabin door, but Hao mourns the loss all the same. “Dinner?”
Whatever was on Hanbin’s mind is still there during dinner. Hanbin is quieter than normal, clearly deep in thought, although he doesn’t fail to nudge Hao’s elbow or attempt to sneak bites from his plate every so often, so it’s probably nothing concerning. Hao lets him be, not minding the silence. He trusts Hanbin to speak when he’s ready.
His patience is rewarded when, as everyone else finishes their food and starts growing rowdier, spirits ramping up in preparation for the campfire, Hanbin finally says something.
“We’re leaving tomorrow.”
Hao wasn’t expecting him to say that. Is that what he was thinking about this entire time? Still, Hao nods. “We are.”
It’s a bit surreal. He’s used to sudden quests, but this will be his first to Alaska, and more significantly his first with Hanbin. Every single quest he’s ever been on in his life, he’s carried the secret goal of searching for Hanbin, keeping an eye and ear out for any hint of him, asking around when given a good opportunity. This time, Hanbin won’t be some intangible memory or unreachable goal…Hanbin will be by his side. He wishes their first quest together didn’t have to be such a dire one, but…he supposes they’ll never really have a choice when it comes to that.
Hanbin spins his empty goblet around. “I’ve been thinking…about what you said earlier. When we were in the forest.”
The forest? Gods…was that only this morning? It feels like years ago. “What did I say?”
He doesn’t answer at first. The goblet continues spinning between his fingertips, reflecting the setting sunlight on its rim.
Then, abruptly, he sets it aside and jumps to his feet, hoisting Hao up as well before Hao nearly topples over in surprise. “Do you want to go somewhere with me?”
Hao stares. Their quest hasn’t even started yet and his boyfriend’s already lost his mind. “Our quest is tomorrow—”
“I don’t mean somewhere far! I just mean…a walk.” He hesitates. “Our quest is tomorrow. I don’t want to be a pessimist. But…this might be our last chance for a while. To…spend time together like this. Without worrying about anything else.”
Hao remembers now. His passing question in the forest, that he’d brushed off after Hanbin’s reaction, assuming it was just too soon. Apparently, he was wrong.
“Are you asking me on a date?”
Hanbin’s shoulders slump. “Sorry. It’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it? I…I really want to go somewhere nice with you. Like the movies, or a cafe, or a Broadway show…” He sighs, forlorn. “But…I know it’s not possible. Not for us.”
Maybe there were demigods that could get away with living out in the open, going on dates wherever they wanted, without worrying about getting hunted down by monsters. But he and Hanbin…they’re both children of the Big Three. They’re more susceptible to attacks than any other demigod, because of their stronger scents to monsters. “Normal dates” are out of the question for them. All they have are these small safe spaces, like Camp Half-Blood. New Rome, back in Camp Jupiter, could also be an option for them, but Hao’s not even sure if Hanbin would want to live there, when it’s so far from his own home…
“Still, I want to take you somewhere.” Hanbin is giving him puppy eyes now, just like he used to do when they were kids. “Please? I know it’s not much, but—”
“Hanbinnie.” Hao shushes him with a kiss. “It’s okay. Any time spent together is good, right? It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, as long as we’re together.” They could be lying on the floor in his cabin together in silence, for all he cared. “Where are we going this time?”
Hanbin’s face breaks out into the most beautiful smile in the world. “You’ll see!” Hanbin grabs his hand, practically skipping out the pavilion with him in tow. “Let’s go!”
So they walk, hand in hand, under the twilight sky decorated with constellations. Noises from the campfire reach them even from here, as everyone else sings and cheers and laughs, but besides that it’s quiet. Ahead of them, Long Island Sound glistens under the starlight, rippling like a banner in a calm wind.
It takes Hao a moment to register that they’re walking closer to the water.
“Hanbin—” They’re on the beach now, so when Hao stops them his feet sink slightly into the sand. The shore is still several feet away, but it’s still close enough to make him nervous. “What…what are we doing here?”
Hanbin turns to face him, rubbing his shoulders in soothing circles. Hao tries to relax, but the sound of the waves hitting the shore are thunderous to his ears, skyrocketing his pulse every time.
“I told you before, remember?” Hanbin’s smile catches in the night’s luminescence, like another star. “You don’t have to be afraid of the water when I’m here.”
Hao bites his lip, unable to stop glancing anxiously at the shore.
“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can go somewhere else instead,” Hanbin promises. “I just want to show you my favorite spot. And…to return the favor.”
“Favor?”
“You’re protecting me from your domain.” Hanbin steps away, closer to the estuary, and holds a hand out. “I want to show you that I can do the same.”
The sea breeze sweeps through Hanbin’s hair, brushing it out of his eyes. He’s beautiful, and will always be beautiful in Hao’s eyes, but here he looks radiant, with the waves at his back and its light aglow on his skin. Kuanjui once said Hao had three big weaknesses. He thinks Hanbin must be his fourth.
Hanbin’s outstretched hand waits, a show of devotion, a question unspoken.
Do you trust me?
Hao takes it.
Step by step, they walk closer to the water, until the tide is lapping at their feet. Hao braces himself for the cold wetness, fingers curling tightly around Hanbin’s…but it never comes. Even as they walk further in, as the water level rises, Hao feels nothing. Nothing except the solid warmth of Hanbin’s hand.
He submerges underwater all at once, shutting his eyes and holding his breath instinctively. A quiet chuckle greets his ears.
“It’s okay.” Hanbin pulls him close, moving his hands to wrap around Hao’s waist, and Hao shivers at the sudden warmth. They’re so far in that his feet aren’t even on the floor. “Just breathe.”
Hao opens his eyes to a world of blue, and inhales at the sight.
“That’s it.” Hanbin’s voice carries well inside their air bubble, wrapped around the two of them to hold back the rest of the water. Hao never thought he’d ever see a sight like this, never thought he’d ever be in the sea without getting thrown into it, and can only look in wonder at the underwater world stretching out before him.
He takes another lungful of air, just because he can. His arms loop around Hanbin’s shoulders. It’s very strange, to see nothing but water, and touch Hanbin’s dry clothes, and breathe as if he’s still above the surface. His brain spins, trying to compute it all, and he can’t help lingering on the sight of the air bubble.
“Is it difficult?” Hao asks, scanning Hanbin’s face for any sign of fatigue, remembering Chiron’s words.
Hanbin just smiles.
“Protecting you?” He shakes his head. “It’s the easiest thing in the world.”
He leans forward, and Hao melts into their kiss, surrounded by Hanbin’s complete encapsulating protection, by Hanbin’s arms, by Hanbin, Hanbin, Hanbin.
