Foxfire drifted around them, leisurely floating to the railings to mark the path. The white noise of rushing water underfoot complimented the warm summer air.

  Nico followed the sage’s lead as they descended toward the village. They hadn’t discussed a plan, not that he expected one after being dragged in here without consent.

  He eyed the strange fox guardian statues lining the path, noting how they too had cloth bandanas tied on as masks. Something about them, not entirely sure what, stirred a sharp, unfocused anger in him.

  “I’m really mad at you right now,” Nico said at last, breaking the silence with a frayed edge to his voice.

  Without turning, Zhou mused, “Hm. Your reflection did attack me right away.”

  “Say something else.”

  “The mask doesn’t hold up on your face in the fox form.”

  Talking to Zhou felt like being ignored and skipping the first 75% of a conversation at the same time.

  And yes, the thought had crossed his mind, especially while dodging stalagmites. Activating lycanthropy would have helped. But he worried the mask would fall off or be swallowed by the transformation.

  “What does it look like under the mask?”

  “Like a mole. The kind that burrows…” Zhou’s voice trailed off as he finally turned, extending a hand. “Give me your mask.”

  Nico tried to make his frown as audible as possible. The false Zhou from earlier really nailed the delivery, and it upset him so much more that he was sure this was the real one.

  “No,” he said. “And why.”

  “I thought it’d be funny if you did.”

  That actually did help in convincing Nico to remove his mask. It nudged him from 4% convinced to maybe 15%, which still wasn’t enough. Of course he was wondering what would happen if he took the mask off now, with the fake not around—

  He shook his ears, determined to not get sidetracked from what he wanted to say.

  “I don’t like how you dragged me in here.”

  “The outfit looks good on you though?” Zhou tapped at his own mask as if he said something profound before turning away again.

  “Why even do all of this?”

  “I like your company,” Zhou replied casually.

  That familiar sensation hit Nico again. The one where he was getting played by someone who had been hot for an entire century. His ears flushed red.

  “Then treat me better.”

  “You’re easy to placate.”

  “I don’t know how to get out of here.”

  “But you feel comfortable throwing a tantrum?”

  “I get to be annoying too," the fox huffed.

  Zhou laughed and after a few more paces, added almost offhandedly, “I don’t know how to get out of here either.”

  Nico stopped walking. His thoughts short-circuited all at once, crashing his brain. Whatever patience he had left for the Sage, or for anything at all, finally ran out.

  “……Give me your mask,” he demanded.

  Nico sent the foxfires flaring across Zhou’s path, their ears and tails lighting up bright with mana. It honestly made them look even cuter, which was deeply unfortunate, but the decision had already been made. The Sage could do many things to brush them aside and keep walking if he wanted to, but that wasn’t the point. This was more about the message.

  Zhou turned to the fuming fox, raised a hand to his face, and—

  Took off his mask.

  “Feel better now?” he asked, head tilted slightly.

  He looked perfectly normal. Sweet, even, smiling at Nico as the foxfire glow caught in his eyes and turned them dazzling. Zhou held the mask out toward Nico, who could only stare at it.

  With a sigh, Nico recalled his foxfires and walked past him, heading back toward the village below. Zhou laughed, slipped the mask back on, and followed after him, unbothered.

  Nico wasn’t sure what he wanted from him anymore. Matching Zhou’s annoying, evasive energy only made the Sage stronger, while leaving Nico with a headache. At this rate, he feared he’d become socially strange if he kept trying to meet the Sage at his level of disjointed conversation.

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  ***

  Once they reached the village, Nico set off with purpose, and Zhou followed, content to let him take the lead. They wove through the rift festival spread across the square, tinted a warm orange by lanterns strung above. Drums boomed in steady rhythm, layered with the quick rattle of tambourines and bursts of pipes sounding above the crowd. Firecrackers snapped against the flagstones, smoking low to the ground, while masked figures whirled and leapt through the streets, sleeves flaring with ribbons.

  Every alley and stall was packed with villagers. Some looked nearly human beneath embroidered summer jackets. Others were little more than shadows draped in robes, smiling masks floating where faces should have been. Most existed somewhere between the two. All moved with the same festive energy: laughing, shopping, dancing as though the night itself was a celebration. The stalls reflected that abundance. Skewers hissed over open flames, buns steamed in stacked baskets, and syrup-glazed sweets caught the lantern light, shining as the scents pressed together in the air.

  All this stimulation was giving Nico, who had slept maybe five cumulative hours over the past two days, a headache.

  “The rift put a lot of effort into the food,” Nico said, filling in Kai’s usual role of complimenting the rift.

  “Hm. Would we be trapped here forever if we ate it?” Zhou wondered aloud.

  “…”

  Nico flicked an ear. Zhou had dragged him into a place he was now casually comparing to hell.

  He drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. May the civil servants who had planned the festival stamp route be blessed. Navigating this rift would have been miserable, had Minny not guided him through his day off—

  He cut the thought off before he got mad at Zhou again.

  The sound of wind chimes carried Nico into the stall. Behind the counter sat a young woman dawning a mask painted with a simple smile. Feathers ran through her hair and along her skin, and her form was noticeably more solid than most of the festival-goers drifting past. Her hands stayed busy, knotting strings of paper charms into another chime. She didn’t look up as Nico approached, not even when he stopped close enough for foxfire to flicker across the surface of her mask.

  Nico opened his inventory and let a Minny keychain dangle from his index finger, its enamel eyes bright in the lantern light. Beside him, Zhou let out a small, startled gasp.

  “Ah. I forgot to turn in the stamp card before entering the rift.” For the first time, his voice carried genuine regret.

  At that, the masked woman lifted her head. Her posture straightened as she leaned way too close into the keychain, stopping only when Minny tapped her mask.

  “…Is that this year’s festival edition Minny?”

  “It is.” Nico kept his voice steady behind his mask.

  She stared at the keychain for a long moment. “…Has a year finally passed?”

  “It has.”

  Her breath caught behind the mask. “You’re real.”

  “You too,” Nico replied.

  ***

  Attached to the stand was a quiet and cozy house; a relief from the merriment outside. The room itself was tidy: a wood table at the center, floor cushions, shelves lined with bundles of dried herbs and half-finished charms.

  Lani set a pitcher of iced tea down with care. Her body was human— Ori in shape, but her mask carried a fixed, gentle smile that made her hard to read. Ice rattled as she poured three cups.

  Nico accepted his graciously and stared down into it. Without comment, he gathered heat in his palm and coaxed the liquid into vapor. The steamy scent of jasmine wafted pleasantly through the air. He set the empty cup back on the table as though he’d simply finished it quickly.

  At his side, Zhou checked the Ori had her head turned and deftly tipped his own cup into Nico’s. Nico’s ears flicked in irritation, but when her attention returned, he held the cup politely, because he was definitely going to drink it.

  Lani didn’t seem to care. None of them had removed their masks, so why they were pretending to drink at all was beyond her. She folded her hands neatly in her lap.

  ***

  Campus had been silent for four straight days. Everyone was in the groggy yet hyper-caffeinated buzz of studying for finals. Lani wished the festival could stretch all the way to her campus, but the closest thing was a handful of students hanging string lights from their dorm balconies. She had chosen to take summer classes to expedite her graduation, but her heart was back home the whole time. She marked the days on her planner, telling herself, ‘just one more exam, just one more late night at the library’.

  On the fourth night, she packed her bag with the giddy energy of a child sneaking out. The overnight train rattled with tired passengers, wrapped up in their bags and coats. Lani clutched her bag, Minny charms from past festivals swung proudly on it. She planned to bring back many more, enough for her friends at school. Thoughts of her village kept her warm, from the food stalls by the river, to the way her parents would scold her and hug her in the same breath when she surprised them by arriving unannounced.

  By the time the train screeched to a stop at the aqueduct, she was yawning, but excitement carried her steps. The air outside was crisp with river mist. Lanterns bobbed above distant rooftops, their warm light guiding her home.

  She could have taken the shortcut through the main street, but her feet found the riverbank path she’d walked since she was little. Nostalgia tugged at her, and she smiled at each familiar bend. The reeds still whistled the way she remembered they did when she used to sneak out to watch the fireworks.

  The moon was full and heavy above the water. Its reflection shimmered so close to the bank that she stopped to admire it. Crouching there, she hugged her bag to her knees and pulled out a handful of lecture notes from exams she had just finished. She tore the papers into long strips, then balled them up in her hands.

  ‘Please help me do well,’ she thought, grinning at herself as though the moon might grade exams. She struck a match, lit the kindle she made from her notes, and placed them on a broad leaf. The tiny fire danced and sputtered, lasting just long enough to reach the moon’s reflection before burning out.

  But in the water’s reflection, it didn’t. The light kept glowing, steady and bright.

  Lani leaned closer, considering she might be seeing things as exam fueled sleep deprivation caught up to her. She stumbled a little trying to peer out from the bank, and caught herself on the edge. Relieved she hadn’t fallen in, she looked into the water, and her reflection looked back at her, wearing a broad smile that she didn’t.

  The last thing she felt was the sudden grip of a hand pulling her wrist, cold as the river, yanking her down into the glow. Then she woke up in the shop. A mask attached to her face.

  ***

  Lani removed her mask. A black oval overlaid where her face should have been.