Author Games: The Absent Empress

Quarterfinals: King

Kitty's Favorite:

(2 parts) Lemon Juice

(4 parts) Carbonated Water

(1 part) Sugar Syrup

(3 parts) Gin

(??? Parts) King's Anger

Time was a funny thing. King didn't have a good sense of it. It shifted like waves, one overlapping the other. Crashing. Crashing. Colliding like the way his breath hits the air. A shiver, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. Fingernails claw desperately at the fur lining the inside as if he could dig a hole into somewhere he'd rather be. The jacket's too big. He can't bring himself to get rid of it. It still smells like lemon. Still smells like old cigarettes and lipstick pressed to the collar and a dozen other memories that warm him much better.

He can't read the signs. A miracle he got here at all, but he's climbing the steps. One, two, a footfall and it's echo. Another step. Higher, up and up until he swears the atmosphere feels thin but if the elderly woman climbing beside him can power through, King sure as hell will. He ain't ready to be bested by any grandma. So he'll grit his teeth. Pull his breath through his teeth, let it out slow. The morning's almost wet, moist. Fog comes in through the city. Somehow, King imagined Tokyo somewhat brighter. Louder. Busier. But in the early hours, it feels still. Like the air that lingers in his lungs a fraction too long before he remembers to let it out. And it flies. Like the birds that nest on the top of the temple. Flying, soaring, somewhere better. Somewhere without jade masks and dead bodies and glazed eyes and missing fucking leaders that can't bother to leave a note that any rational person could decrypt. Patience is key.

"You look lost." The voice pulls him to a stop. She's sitting on a concrete lion, blowing a purple bubble. The gum pops before it gets too big. She pulls it back to her lips. Smacks once, twice, and everything moves in twos. Her eyes narrow, brushing a strand of black hair off her shoulder. Slowly rising, hopping onto the steps. Moving closer, looking at him while she works her teeth. King arches an eyebrow. "First time traveling outside the country?"

A laugh. Easy, natural, pulling his lips away from his teeth. Look sheepish, play your cards, make it feel so easy he can almost forget he's bluffing. She barely comes to his chin. Still, the way she stares sends a chill up him. "How'd you guess?" he asks. Hands pull out of pockets, feet shift just so slightly. Body posture is everything. Everything. Suddenly, he's open. Welcoming. Almost flirting in the way his smile settles.

A smirk. Arms cross, a hip jutted out. Almost amused, almost pleased. "King's rarely like to leave their thrones, isn't that right?" The bait is swallowed but the hook remains, dangling empty, leaving him bare. The smile flickers. Falters. Not quite genuine though he can't help it.

Pull it back, reel it in, there's still time to cast and recast the show hasn't even begun yet. Patience is key. This must be who they talked about. An oracle? How cliche. She looks more like a punk kid with spray paint under her fingernails and a navel piercing. But looks can be deceiving. King doesn't judge. He had a navel piercing once too. He's been the rebellious route. "It's a good thing I'm looking for an empress then," he replies. Voice steady, surprise pulled back. If this was a movie, he'd wait for the line. The dreaded I've been expecting you. Then he'd find out he was the chosen one. Destined for greatness.

But this isn't the movie. The air tastes like gasoline now, thick and stirring as the city rises. She studies him. Quiet. Waiting. King studies too. Her gaze isn't as heated as the Empress's, not as powerful, but there's something hard and glossy their. The protective exoskeleton of an insect adapted. Protective camouflage. What must it be like to see the future? He doesn't know. He feels the air brush by him with the hum of tourists eager to snap a photo before the crowds arrive. Unaware that they are the crowd. Unaware of the two exchanging glances in front of the temple steps. "I like you." Those are her words. Simply, abrupt. Then, she turns. "Walk with me.