We left the apartment a little before noon.
Wen Xiao wore a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled to her elbows, black trousers that fit too well, and the crescent pendant resting openly against her collarbone. Her hair was tied back in a low, practical way that still managed to look deliberate. I had chosen a soft blue short-sleeve blouse, light jeans, and white sneakers. Comfortable enough for walking, ordinary enough that I would not stand out. I had not expected the day to become a test of my remaining patience.
The metro platform was already packed. By the time the train arrived the car was a solid wall of bodies. We squeezed in with the rest of the crowd. I ended up with my back to Wen Xiao, one hand on the overhead rail, the other trapped against my side. There was barely room to breathe.
Then a hand settled on my ass.
I stiffened.
The hand did not move away. It adjusted, fingers spreading slightly as if claiming a better grip, and stayed there with complete confidence. I turned my head as much as the crowd allowed and hissed under my breath.
“What are you doing?”
Wen Xiao’s voice came from just behind my ear, calm and infuriating.
“Protecting you. The train is full of people. Someone has to make sure no one else tries anything.”
“I am aware.”
“Remove your hand.”
“If I remove it, someone else might take the opportunity. I am performing a public service.”
Her palm flexed once, casual and possessive, as the train swayed. I nearly choked on my own breath. A man to my left shifted closer and Wen’s hand pressed more firmly, as if to make a point. The entire situation was so ridiculous I could not decide whether to scream or laugh. Heat crawled up my neck. I stared hard at an advertisement above the doors and tried to pretend my entire lower body was not currently under unauthorized guard.
“You are enjoying this,” I muttered.
“I am being responsible.”
“You are groping me on public transport.”
“I am preventing other people from groping you on public transport. There is a difference.”
The difference was not convincing when her thumb absently stroked once across the curve of my back pocket. I bit the inside of my cheek and endured. Every station stop only compressed the crowd further. Every time the train jerked she used it as an excuse to adjust her hold. By the fifth station I was plotting plausible ways to make her disappearance look like an accident.
When we finally reached our stop the doors opened and the pressure of bodies released all at once. I stumbled out onto the platform, dragged in a full breath, and spun around.
“I am going to kill you.”
She raised both hands in fake surrender, still not looking sorry.
“It is my birthday,” she said. “You said you would not kill me on my birthday.”
I stared at her. The words I had thrown at her earlier in a completely different context came back to haunt me. My face was already burning. My dignity was somewhere still stuck on that metro car.
“Be grateful,” I managed through my teeth. “The only reason you are still alive is because it is your birthday. The moment the day ends the protection expires.”
Wen Xiao smiled, slow and shameless.
“Then I will make sure the day lasts as long as possible.”
I turned and walked toward the exit before I could follow through on the threat in public. Behind me I heard her quiet laugh and the soft sound of her following. The crescent pendant, the metro hand, and the absolute nerve of her “public service” excuse all swirled together until I could not tell whether I was more furious or unwillingly flustered.
It was going to be a very long day at the amusement park.