Three days until the festival.

The sun was high and the village was buzzing.

Cords were being woven. Gifts were being hidden. And somewhere, in a quiet corner of Thousand Fang, a small jaguar was being interrogated.

"You’re always looking at her."

Tao Zi’s ears went flat against his head. "I am not."

"You are," Yòu Lín said, sprawled on his stomach across a sun-warmed rock. His orange tail swished behind him like a metronome. "You look at her during meals. You look at her during games. You looked at her when she tripped over that root yesterday and you almost fell off the log trying to catch her."

"I was stretching."

"You don’t stretch sitting down."

"I was stretching my neck."

"Your neck doesn’t bend that way."

Tao Zi’s jaw tightened. He stared at the ground. His dark curls fell across his face, hiding his expression.

Beside Yòu Lín, Ruì Xuě sat with his arms crossed. Those striking purple eyes tracked the conversation with quiet glee. He had sat through way too many embarrassing lectures about his love life. Finally, someone else was in the hot seat, and he was loving every minute of it.

"Hóng Yè," Ruì Xuě said. "Say something."

Hóng Yè was leaning against a tree, his arms crossed, his face doing its best impression of someone who was not enjoying this at all. His red panda tail was flicking.

"I’m not getting involved."

"You’re already involved. You’re standing here."

"I’m standing here because Yòu Lín dragged me."

"Emotional support," Yòu Lín said, not looking up from the rock. "You’re my emotional support big brother."

"I’m leaving."

"You’re not."

Hóng Yè glared. Yòu Lín ignored him.

Glimmer, who had been perched on a low branch above them, dropped down lightly, her green hair catching the light. She landed beside Tao Zi and tilted her head, her eyes curious.

"The fox is right," she said. "You do look at her a lot."

Tao Zi’s face went red. "I don’t—she’s just—she’s always there."

"Zhen is everywhere," Ruì Xuě pointed out. "That doesn’t mean everyone stares at her."

"You stare at Miao Miao," Tao Zi shot back.

Ruì Xuě’s ears went pink. "That’s different."

"How is it different?"

"It just is."

"That’s not an answer."

"I don’t owe you an answer."

"So you admit you stare at her."

"I—that’s—we’re not talking about me!"

Yòu Lín giggled from the rock. Ruì Xuě threw a pebble at him. He rolled out of the way just in time.

Glimmer ignored them both. She crouched down in front of Tao Zi, bringing herself to eye level.

"You know," she said quietly, "it’s okay if you like her. No one’s going to make fun of you."

"I don’t like her," Tao Zi said.

"Tao Zi."

"I don’t!"

His voice cracked on the last word. His ears were burning, and he could feel his face getting hotter.

From the bushes behind them, a voice emerged.

"He’s lying."

Everyone turned.

Yǎ Lì emerged from the foliage, a basket of herbs on her hip, her scarred stump tucked against her side. The old jaguar woman’s eyes were crinkled with amusement.

"Yǎ Lì," Tao Zi said, his voice climbing an octave. "What are you—you’re supposed to be gathering."

"I am gathering." She held up the basket. "And I am also observing."

"Observing what?"

"Observing a young prince who has forgotten how to hide his feelings."

Tao Zi immediately pouted, turning his face away in embarassment.

"I don’t have feelings."

"Mm." Yǎ Lì set down her basket and settled onto a nearby stump, making herself comfortable. "Let me tell you a story, children. About a little jaguar cub who couldn’t stop staring at a little white-haired girl."

"Yǎ Lì—"

"He followed her with his eyes everywhere she went. At meals. At play. Even when she was just sitting by the river, throwing rocks at the water."

"I was not—"

"He kept a flower she dropped. Pressed it between two flat stones. Hid it under his sleeping mat."

Tao Zi’s face was now the color of a ripe tomato. His hands were curled into fists at his sides. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

"And when someone asked him about it," Yǎ Lì continued, utterly unbothered, "he said—what did he say? Oh yes. ’It’s not mine. I was just holding it for her. She’s going to come back for it.’"

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then Yòu Lín burst out laughing.

"YOU KEPT A FLOWER?"

"SHUT UP."

"A FLOWER, TAO ZI. YOU KEPT A FLOWER."

"IT WAS NOT—I DIDN’T—SHE DROPPED IT—I WAS GOING TO RETURN IT—"

"For how long?"

Tao Zi didn’t answer. His ears were flat. His tail was tucked. He looked like he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

Ruì Xuě’s lips twitched. He was trying very hard not to smile. He was failing.

Even Hóng Yè had uncrossed his arms. His expression hadn’t changed, but his tail had stopped flicking.

"I don’t like her," Tao Zi said again, but his voice was small now. Weak.

Yǎ Lì sighed. She stood, picked up her basket, and patted Tao Zi’s head as she passed.

"Denial is a river, little prince," she said. "And you are drowning in it."

She walked away, disappearing into the trees.

The silence she left behind was heavy.

And then—

"You don’t like me?"

Everyone froze.

Zhen was standing at the edge of the clearing.

She had come from the direction of the river. Her white hair was damp, her feet were bare, and she was holding a half-eaten apple. Her purple eyes were wide.

Her face looked like she was sad.

"No," Tao Zi said quickly. "I don’t—she was lying—Yǎ Lì doesn’t know what she’s talking about—"

"So it is true?"

Zhen’s lower lip trembled.

Then she turned and walked away.

"Zhen—" Tao Zi started.

She didn’t stop, she just kept walking away from him.

Tao Zi stood frozen, his hand half-raised, his mouth half-open. The clearing was silent except for the sound of birds and the distant rush of the river.

Yòu Lín had stopped laughing.

Ruì Xuě was looking at the ground.

Glimmer’s expression was soft, almost sad.

Even Hóng Yè looked uncomfortable.

"Go after her," Glimmer said quietly.

Tao Zi shook his head. "She doesn’t want to talk to me."

"You don’t know that."

"She walked away."

"Because you hurt her feelings."

Tao Zi’s face crumpled. "I didn’t mean to."

"I know." Glimmer touched his shoulder. "But you still did."

He didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at the path where Zhen had disappeared, his dark eyes wide and lost.

Yòu Lín slid off the rock and landed beside him.

"You’re an idiot," the fox kit said.

"I know."

"A really big idiot."

"I know."

"But she’ll forgive you. Zhen always forgives everyone." Yòu Lín paused. "Eventually."

Tao Zi said nothing.

Ruì Xuě stood up, brushing dirt from his pants. "You should eat something. You can’t fix anything on an empty stomach."

"I’m not hungry."

"You’re always hungry. That’s another lie."

Tao Zi’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue.

The group began to drift away, leaving Tao Zi alone in the clearing.

He stood there for a long time, staring at the empty path.

Then he sat down on the rock where Yòu Lín had been lying, put his head in his hands, and sighed.

A small, crumpled flower fell out of his sleeve.

He stared at it.

It was dry and brown and falling apart.

He tucked it back into his sleeve, very carefully, and got up to find her.