Chapter 723: Under the Hanging Lanterns

A single frost footprint led Hajin onto the Bone Bridge, glittering faintly beneath ten thousand lanterns that drifted slowly overhead. Past the railings the Bright Dark fell away forever, a bottomless field of unborn stars turning every lantern into twins.

Didi stood alone at the span’s center with her back to him, one gloved hand resting on the rail.

“You left the party without insulting anybody,” he called, slowing his steps, “so I came to check you were alive.”

“I am perfectly alive,” she said, not turning, “while you are perfectly loud.”

She faced him then, her eyes gone gold, cracked through with fine lines of winter white. Wind from the Dark stirred her silver hair, though nothing else on the whole bridge moved.

‘That’s Ibaran’s color, sitting in her face like it was always hers.’

“Your eyes are doing the thing again,” he said quietly.

“I know they are,” she answered, tugging her glove tighter over her knuckles, “I watched them do it in a soup spoon this morning.”

He leaned on the rail beside her, close enough that his sleeve brushed hers, then waited without saying anything clever. A lantern drifted between them carrying a name written in thread, which she tracked until it rose out of reach.

“I want the crown,” she said at last.

“The Throne, the power, the whole glittering mess?” he asked, turning to look at her.

“Not that, you idiot,” she snapped, glaring at the Dark, “I want the room where my chair waits empty, mine alone.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, while she scowled at the stars as though they were to blame.

“My whole life people told me what I was for,” she continued, hugging her own elbows, “you were the first one to ask what I wanted, then he asked too.”

“He asked you with a trap in his pocket, Didi.”

“I know that too, I am not stupid, but the asking still worked.”

Far down the span, the puppet duels cheered faint and tinny, a whole world away from this railing.

The bridge creaked softly while she stood rigid beside him, her breath fogging in the lantern light. Hajin scratched the back of his neck, hunting for words better than the ones he already owned.

“Then I’ll ask you every day,” he said, “right after breakfast, whether you like it or not.”

“Every day?” she whispered, finally looking up.

“If you take the crown, I’m still here, if you throw it in the Dark, I’m still here.”

She stared at him a long moment, then laughed, a wet startled sound that broke halfway out of her. Both fists rose to hammer his chest, small and furious, each blow landing exactly where his ribs ran thinnest.

“Ow, hey, that’s my good side—”

“Say it again,” she demanded, her fists pressed flat against his coat.

“I’m still here, crown or no crown,” he said, catching both her wrists gently.

“Again.”

“I’m still here, I’ll keep saying it until your ears freeze off,” he told her, grinning down at her.

She shuddered once, shoving her face into his shoulder for the length of one long, shaky breath. When she pulled back, her cheeks burned pink beneath the gold, furious at how well it worked.

“This is humiliating,” she muttered, scrubbing her sleeve across her eyes.

“Looked pretty effective… from where I stood.”

[ashley(mod): HE SAID IT THREE TIMES AND SHE BLEW A FUSE]

[DarkBlade: Frost goddess malfunctioning, please stand by.]

Quick as a pickpocket, she snatched the scarf off his neck, winding it twice around her own throat. It was a plain gray thing Loccy knitted for him, lumpy at one end, smelling faintly of smoke.

“I am keeping this,” Didi announced, lifting her chin.

“Loccy made that, she’ll cry about it,” he warned, reaching for one end.

She slapped his hand away, “Then I will return it tomorrow… but tonight it is mine, I do not like it at all.”

“You’re wearing it up to your nose.”

“The Underworld is cold, you simpleton,” she sniffed, burying her chin deeper.

He grinned, helpless, while she caught him at it, the pink climbing straight into her ears. A lantern settled on the railing beside them, humming, lighting her face like a private dawn.

‘She keeps stepping closer without noticing, so I’m not going to be the one who points it out.’

“You are standing very near me,” he said, trying to sound innocent.

“The bridge is narrow, so I have no choice in the matter,” she said, eyes fixed on the lantern.

“It’s thirty feet wide, Didi.”

“Then it is very poorly designed,” she retorted, her voice gone small.

“You pressed your knee against mine under the table at tea,” he said, “and you still haven’t given my glove back.”

“That was circulation, you ridiculous man, the tea room was freezing,” she said, not moving away an inch.

Her gloved hand found his collar, curling into the cloth to draw him down until their foreheads almost touched. Above them all the lanterns seemed to slow, hanging motionless in the dark like one long held breath, waiting.

“If you laugh,” she whispered, “I will freeze every bone in your body.”

“I would never—”

For the first time in public, she started the kiss herself, quick and fierce, beneath ten thousand lanterns. It was cold lips, warm breath, a faint taste of plum wine, her fist tight in his collar.

When she let go, she stepped back, smoothing her coat with both palms, chin high, eyes on the sky.

“That was frost-burn,” she said crisply, “nothing more, you will not mention it to anyone.”

“Frost-burn?” he repeated, touching his lip as if checking it was still attached.

“I am not saying anything, I am simply… acknowledging a result.”

“A result of what, exactly?” he asked, leaning closer, delighted.

She pointed a rigid finger at his face, “Of nothing, you are smirking again.”

He was beaming so widely that his cheeks hurt, making no effort at all to stop it. Didi narrowed her eyes, raised one finger, sending white crackling down the planks to lock his feet.

“Hey, my feet are stuck to the bridge,” he yelped, tugging against the frost.

“They will stay there until you learn some dignity,” she said primly.

“That could take a while.”

“Then you will stand there a while,” she said, tucking her chin into his scarf.

She turned toward the lanterns, shoulders shaking with a laugh she was plainly trying to bury. Her borrowed scarf shook with it, one lumpy end flapping against the rail like a flag.

“The rest of it,” she said quietly, still facing away, “my real answer, I will say it when I am ready, not before.”

“So I shouldn’t ask about it,” he said, nodding slowly like a man accepting terms.

“You will not ask, you will simply be here, as you promised.”

“Then I’m here,” he answered, settling beside her on his frozen feet.

Below them the Bright Dark glittered in perfect silence, ten thousand unborn stars still waiting for their names. Hajin pictured every cradle on the Stair above, each one holding somebody nobody ever asked anything at all.

‘She hasn’t said it, but the scarf already did, so I’m keeping that to myself.’

He stood glued to the planks beside her, watching the whole Dark glitter, happier than any night this week. Her hand slipped from the rail, drifted sideways, then settled against his knuckles with neither of them mentioning it.

A silver horn sounded across Kuroyomi, long and clear, rolling over every bridge, rooftop, street at once.

Every lantern in the sky shivered, turned together like a flock of birds, then began drifting toward the Cradle Palace.

“The Table is set,” Didi said, her fingers tightening on his, the gold in her eyes flaring bright.