Fate's Slave - Shadow Slave X Honkai Star Rail

Sunny’s shadow sense lingered for a fraction longer than necessary, his awareness threading through the layered streets and tiered architecture of the Exalting Sanctum with quiet, deliberate precision. The closed restaurant sat wedged between two lively storefronts, its presence deliberately muted, its lanterns dimmed just enough to discourage attention without drawing suspicion. At a glance, it looked abandoned for the evening, perhaps undergoing maintenance or simply closed early. However, the deeper his perception slipped past its wooden doors and lacquered walls, the more apparent it became that the stillness was not natural.

The air inside was wrong.

It was not hostile in the conventional sense, nor did it pulse with imminent danger the way a lurking Nightmare Creature might. Instead, it carried a weight that pressed subtly against his senses, dense and coiled, like something holding itself back rather than being restrained by external force. Two presences occupied the space, and neither of them attempted to conceal their existence in any meaningful way. They were simply... there.

Not moving much.

Not speaking.

Not acting.

Yet their mere existence was enough to set every instinct Sunny possessed on edge.

Sunny exhaled slowly, forcing his attention away before his curiosity could override his judgment.

’Not my problem.’

At least, not right now. If those two wanted something from him, then they’d have already approached him. Maybe he’ll investigate later, but for now? Too risky, as he may expose his identity as Mongrel.

If he were a Saint, perhaps it would not matter.

But he was not.

And until that changed, caution remained the more intelligent choice.

"Hey."

March’s voice cut cleanly through his thoughts, her tone edged with impatience.

"You’re zoning out again."

Sunny blinked, his awareness snapping back to the present as he glanced toward her.

"Thinking."

She crossed her arms, her expression unimpressed.

"You do that too much."

"Not enough, apparently."

She huffed, though the irritation did not linger long. Her attention shifted almost immediately, drawn toward the vibrant displays of nearby shops. The Exalting Sanctum thrived with a kind of energy that contrasted sharply with Belobog’s structured rigidity. Lanterns cast warm, ambient light across polished surfaces, while vendors called out with practiced enthusiasm, each stall presenting its wares with theatrical flair.

March’s eyes lit up.

"Oh, this is perfect."

Before Sunny could react, she grabbed his sleeve and dragged him toward a clothing shop with alarming enthusiasm.

The next stretch of time unfolded in a chaotic rhythm that Sunny quickly resigned himself to enduring.

March disappeared into the changing area repeatedly, only to emerge in a different outfit each time. Flowing robes, layered skirts, embroidered sleeves, and ornate sashes cycled through her hands as she experimented with increasingly elaborate combinations. Each time she stepped out, she struck a pose with complete confidence, as though she were demonstrating something profound.

"I have ascended beyond mortal constraints!"

She raised a hand dramatically, her expression fierce in a way that might have been convincing if she had not immediately stumbled over the hem of her robe.

Sunny leaned against a nearby wall, arms crossed, watching with a mixture of mild amusement and secondhand embarrassment.

"You look like you’re about to get scammed by a traveling sect."

March shot him a glare.

"You just don’t understand aesthetics."

"I understand that you’re one bad step away from faceplanting."

She ignored him, turning back toward the mirror as she struggled with a particularly complicated sash.

"Power comes with sacrifice."

"Yeah, like your balance."

Despite his commentary, Sunny did not remain idle. While March cycled through outfits, he moved through the shop with quiet focus, his gaze scanning fabrics with careful consideration. His fingers brushed against different materials, assessing texture, weight, and flow with subtle precision.

Black, red, and gold seemed to be the answer.

Anything that aligned with Tingyun’s preferences was immediately set aside. Silks with a refined sheen, darker hues that carried understated elegance, fabrics that moved fluidly rather than clinging awkwardly — he selected them with a level of intent that contrasted sharply with March’s chaotic approach.

Within his Soul Sea, Tingyun observed.

[That one.]

Her tone carried approval as his hand hovered over a deep crimson fabric threaded with gold.

Sunny picked it up without comment.

[Better.]

A pause followed.

[You are learning.]

He snorted quietly.

’Don’t get used to it.’

[Oh, I fully intend to.]

He ignored her after that, continuing his selections until he had assembled a small but refined collection. Alongside the fabrics, he chose accessories — delicate hair ornaments, gold-accented pins, and several elegant pieces that leaned toward sophistication rather than excess.

When he finished, he glanced back at March.

She was currently struggling with a sash in a way that suggested imminent disaster.

"...You’re going to strangle yourself."

"I am mastering it."

"You’re losing to a piece of cloth."

She shot him another glare, though it lacked any real intensity.

Eventually, they approached the counter.

March set down her chosen outfits with satisfaction.

Then she paused.

Then she smiled.

Sunny narrowed his eyes.

"...No."

She clasped her hands behind her back, tilting her head with exaggerated innocence.

"So, funny story."

"No."

"I may or may not—"

"No."

"—have forgotten to bring any money."

Sunny stared at her in silence.

She maintained the expression without breaking.

He exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"...You did that on purpose, dumbass."

"Maybe."

With a quiet sigh, he paid without further resistance.

March beamed.

"You’re the best."

"Truth nuke."

"Does this mean I can—"

"Nah."

She pouted briefly before gathering her purchases.

Later, they sat along a quieter stretch of the Sanctum, each holding a milkshake. The noise of the marketplace softened into a distant hum, creating a rare pocket of calm amidst the surrounding activity.

For a while, they simply talked.

Eventually, March spoke again, her tone shifting slightly.

"Oh, yeah."

Sunny glanced at her.

"The people in Belobog kept insulting me for some reason."

His expression remained perfectly neutral.

"Did they?"

"Yeah, and they’d always compliment you right before!"

She narrowed her eyes.

"You didn’t use a Memory on them to prank me, right?"

Sunny laughed easily.

"I didn’t use a Memory."

March relaxed. She knew his Flaw, so there was nothing more to worry about.

"Oh. Okay, good."

She frowned slightly, clearly confused.

Technically, he hadn’t been lying. He had not used a Memory. What he had done was far more extreme.

Belobog’s component’s influence had allowed him to alter the consequence tied to speaking about Awakened. Where there had once been lethal punishment, he had replaced it with something far more entertaining.

Compliment Sunny.

Insult March.

A simple adjustment.

Sunny hid a faint smirk behind his drink.

’This is going to be hilarious for years.’

Before March could dwell further, a third voice interrupted.

"You two seem to be having fun."

They turned.

Dan Heng stood nearby.

And on his shoulders...

Was a child.

Sunny blinked.

March blinked.

They looked at Dan Heng.

Then the child.

Then back at Dan Heng.

Then they both screamed.

"You have a kid?!"

Dan Heng immediately pressed a hand to his face, exhaustion radiating from the gesture.

"I do not have any children."

Sunny narrowed his eyes.

"You sure? Technically, you’re old enough to be my dad... plus, she has the horns, even a tail! She probably got the hair and eyes from her mother... tsk! Lucky woman."

March nodded enthusiastically as Sunny cursed out a woman he didn’t know.

"Yeah, totally. How could anyone seduce our Dan Heng!"

Dan Heng’s expression flattened, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Do you two children want to be adopted, too?"

Sunny’s eyes widened.

March gasped while Sunny brushed away a tear of joy, his voice cracked:

"P—Papa?"

March grabbed his shoulder dramatically.

"I don’t want to be your sibling, but I’ll accept it. You can be my little brother."

Sunny turned to her immediately.

"Wait, no, I’m definitely older."

She raised a brow.

"Source?"

He pointed at her.

"Maturity, for one."

"That’s not evidence."

As they argued, Dan Heng stood in silence, visibly regretting every life decision that had led to this moment.

Above him, the child tilted her head.

"Ah. I’ve seen a case like this before."

All three paused.

Her voice remained calm.

"In that instance, the issue was mental retardation."

Silence fell.

Sunny froze.

March froze.

Their faces twitched.

Sunny slowly turned to Dan Heng.

"...Never mind."

March nodded solemnly.

"You can’t be our Papa anymore. Your parenting skills are atrocious."

Dan Heng closed his eyes briefly.

"She is not my child."

The child blinked.

"I am not."

Sunny sighed.

"Tragic."

March nodded.

"Absolutely tragic... wait, isn’t that a good thing?"

Sunny brightened.

"Right! The only woman who can have Dan Heng... is me!

He paused.

"Wait, that doesn’t sound right."

Dan Heng looked upward, as though silently questioning the Universe itself.