Chapter Text
“Hey you, be sure to come back! You’re not the kind of guy who would disappear at a moment like this, are you?!
“A world of chaos is the dream of any adventurer out there!”
***
After everything that happened, Sinbad wasn't surprised when he woke up to screaming.
"Oh! Oh sweet Rukh, there's a dead man on the beach!"
The beach, huh? There was a warm, grainy sensation all over the back of his body, and a coldness coming up his legs in waves. Must be water. Sand.
Earth.
His eyes flew open, immediately met with the searing light of the sun. Hundreds of deaths in the Sacred Palace and eons spent in the darkness between dimensions had numbed his senses. They returned to him now, brutal, like a bolt of lightning summoned by his own djinn.
Like a reckoning.
Cloth fell over him in a flutter of nervous hands and a cool, sea breeze. Faint mumbling. Sinbad took a moment to flex his own hands, digging his fingers into the sand and then tightening them in the thin fabric placed over him. His limbs twitched. He blinked.
His throat felt sore and he had the worst migraine of the millennium. Letting out a soft groan, he shifted slightly, pulling the blanket off of his face.
These actions were rewarded with another scream.
"You're not dead? You're not dead!" The same high voice repeated, somehow both relieved and horrified.
The speaker kneeled over him–a wide-brimmed hat and baggy pants, olive-brown skin, long and wavy strands of black hair slipping out of their braid. The strands clung to their face and fell over their wide, dark eyes.
Sinbad squinted up at them. "Judar?" He rasped, despite all the inconsistencies. Particularly the fact that he was still alive and lacking an ice spear in the chest.
His companion seemed to calm down a little from hearing his voice. They tilted their head, then shook it. "I'm not that person, sorry." They slowly climbed to their feet. "But I might be able to get you some help.” They offered a hand with a small, sincere smile on their face.
Ah, with a look like that, they must be a beautiful girl!
Sinbad rose in a flash, letting the blanket fall to his feet. He took the offered hand with immense gratitude.
However, his companion didn't receive it too well. They screamed once he stood.
"Do you have any idea– you're completely naked!"
That would make sense. His bare skin was exposed to the elements, legs wet and cold while his chest and face had been warmed by the sun. Grains of sand stuck to his back. Not nearly the worst condition he'd been in when deserted with no supplies.
He glanced around for a leaf, for censorship reasons–finding only boats and shells on the beach, he picked up the blanket and tied it around his waist.
"Hello! Nice weather today, huh?" Using the conversational tone he always did in these situations, he put his hands on his hips, flashing a stunning grin.
His companion opened and closed their mouth soundlessly for a few seconds. Then: "You're insane," they muttered, staring at him. "You just washed up naked and half-dead in the middle of nowhere, and you want to talk about the weather?"
"The weather's a big deal, you know." He glanced in the direction opposite the sea now. The blur of small, rectangular stone houses, run-down fences, cheap cloth hung up to dry swaying in the salty breeze... it was so familiar. "I grew up in a fishing village like this. I'll always have a fondness for coastal climates."
How long had it been since he enjoyed the ocean? Simply the sounds and smell of it, stepping a foot into the water just to make a splash.
His companion continued to watch him like he'd grown a second head. "You... probably have some kind of concussion," they said airily. "Come with me, I'll take you somewhere you can rest." They went to grab his wrist, then hesitated, looking at him again. "Are you sure you’re okay?"
Sinbad smiled. "That's really considerate of you, but I'm fine! I could never shy away from the touch of a lady!" He brought their hand to his wrist once more. "Now, please lead the way."
They rolled their eyes, and started down a gravel path towards the village.
***
"I have to thank you again for letting me stay here, my lady," Sinbad said before he split a roasted crab leg, seated on a colorful rug in one of the stone houses. The ceiling was low, supported by cracked and dusty walls. Much cozier than a palace.
His companion had offered him bed and board–in exchange for what, yet, he wasn't sure. Their eyes met as they ate their meals, crab legs and bowls of hash. They chewed in silence and awkward eye contact.
...Had Sinbad lost his touch after his 'death'? His host, who'd been so hospitable to him so far, had yet to give him another smile since they left the beach.
His companion swallowed after a spoonful of chopped meat and potatoes. "I'm not a lady," they corrected, a tired tone in their voice.
Ah-hah! So that was why things were awkward! "Ah, forgive me, my friend. You have such fine features for a man!"
"Not a man, either."
Sinbad's next flattering words died in his throat. He raised a brow, the sails of his mind struggling through a storm. "Sorry, I'm not sure I heard that right."
His host set down their bowl and groaned. "Ugh, when you make that face you look like a hundred-year-old geezer. Here I thought more people were finally learning about gender variance. How long have you been living under a rock?"
That was not a question Sinbad ever expected to hear directed towards him.
He laughed. "I owe you more apologies, it seems! I've been disconnected from the world for a while, but that doesn't excuse my behavior." Sinbad dipped his head in, hopefully, a respectful gesture.
His host waved him off. "Whatever. Just don't make a habit of doing it, yeah? Doesn't matter how you think of me in your head, just don't call me any of those things." They threaded their fingers together and stretched. "I prefer my name, Suzu."
"Suzu," Sinbad repeated, testing it on his tongue. "You're from Kou, aren't you? Likely one of the villages in the eastern plains." He remembered the little that Judar had described about his birthplace – such a long time ago, even before Sinbad's death.
Suzu's eyes widened and they paused with another spoonful halfway to their mouth. "Ah, is it that obvious?" They chuckled. That counted as a smile, didn't it? "I have some relatives in the Kanan plains, but I'm from the capital."
So, Kou still existed, at least. It hadn't been long enough for such an empire to collapse. The thought brought some kind of fluttering anxiety into his chest, but he quickly shook it off. "The capital is Rakushou, isn't it?" He plastered on his best air-headed expression–not exactly difficult when 'air-headed' had been one of the main traits his Eight Generals saw in him.
His Eight Generals. Hah, he thought of them like that, after all this time? Were they even ruling now? Unless time scaled dramatically differently in wherever Sinbad had been–which wasn't outside the realm of possibility–they had to be retired by this point.
As if his friends would ever retire. Maybe the others with lots of convincing, but Jafar? Not a chance. That man would be doing paperwork until he died.
For some reason, Sinbad's lip twitched downwards.
"Uh– no." Suzu returned to their hash, munching away for a bit before they continued, "It's Kyohana. But Rakushou is a really popular city, so I see the confusion."
Sinbad nodded and the two continued to quietly eat their food in the stone house.
He had, in fact, lost his charismatic knack. Too much time alone in his skyscraper, brainwashing people–too many superficial smiles and hand waves as answers. He hadn't sat down and had an earnest talk with someone since the new Sindria Trading company took off; Sinbad was preoccupied following the clear line of fate forwards, faster, faster, to that ideal world he always dreamt about.
A world that would never be possible again.
With the destruction of the Sacred Palace, the entire system that had allowed Sinbad such power– magi, dungeons, metal vessels, godhood–was completely dissolved. No one would be able to recreate a magic tool like the Palace in a hundred lifetimes. No one could ever recreate the world like it was before.
We have to keep moving forward.
Forward, no matter what.
"What's your name?” Suzu asked. “I told you mine, but I don't know yours."
"It's Sin,” he replied with a smile.
They leveled several seconds of a dead stare against him.
"If you don't want to tell me your real name, you can just say so. I won't judge," Suzu said, taking a judgmental bite of their crab leg.
Sinbad shrugged and Suzu shook their head.
"You said you were from a fishing village like this? East or West?" With their bowl polished-off, they seemed more focused on socializing.
Sinbad shifted on the woven rug. He put down the empty shell of a crab leg. "Ah, the West–have you heard of Partevia?"
Suzu stroked their chin. "Can't say I have. Wait..." They squinted, staring into the distance at a random crack on the wall. "It was an empire, wasn't it? One of Reim's rivals. Pretty sure it collapsed a couple centuries ago."
The statement sank heavy in his chest.
Sinbad nodded. "Yes, that's right. My village is on the coast of what used to be Partevia."
He thought it was, anyway. The destruction of the dungeons and cancellation of the rukh's rebirth had torn into the world, leaving scars of dimensional rifts and other drastic alterations to the landscape. Sinbad hadn't been there himself to witness the changes, but he was aware of them, the same way he was aware of the glass-rukh.
The birds, once white and gold, no longer glowed with any color. Practically invisible even to those with the ability to see them, except when the light hit them just right. Then, they glittered like crystals. Like the future.
Suzu blinked and shook off the distant look on their face. "Hah, you're a while from home, then. What brings you to the island of Al-Masus?"
This time when Sinbad smiled, it felt more real. "I've come to see the world. I want to go to every continent, every country, and every island. I'll learn about histories and cultures beyond my imagination for the rest of my life."
The words rolled off his tongue. Not like fate, like–
"International travel these days is kind of difficult, y'know," Suzu murmured, sounding dazed. "With all the tension and everything. There are bandits and pirates all over. The Great Powers are looking for any excuse to declare all-out war, but no one wants to make the first move."
“Wars will increase... our hatred will know no limits, and the world will probably fall into chaos.”
"It sounds intimidating,” Sinbad said.
Suzu made a skeptical face at his maintained enthusiasm. "It's dangerous. Bigger countries are competing for trade and magical discoveries, signing secret alliances and cracking deals even with those they thought would always be their enemies." They let out a massive sigh. "All of it is so confusing. This is why I left politics–that, and the paperwork..."
"A world of chaos is the dream of any adventurer out there, isn't it?” Sinbad smiled. "So no matter the politics or criminals, the complex web of interconnection in this world, any obstacle that stands in my way... I'll overcome it."
That's what he'd always done, after all. Even death, countless deaths, could not break his spirit.
"I'll see everything this chaotic world has to offer!"
Eyes wide once more, Suzu simply gaped.
Then they stood. They silently cleaned up the dirty plateware and shells. Meanwhile, Sinbad considered his promise. He'd told Alibaba he would come back. He never said that he would come back in the other man's lifetime.
Alibaba, Aladdin, Judar, Hakuryuu... the four of them, those closest to his status as God who'd confronted him inside the Sacred Palace–they were all dead now, weren't they? Long dead.
Dead, whereas Sinbad was not.
So he'd kept his promise, then. Not that Alibaba would ever know it. Did the glass-rukh still carry the souls of the dead? Or were they all sent to another plane now? Whatever the case, Sinbad knew that all souls went the same way in this world. That had been one of Alibaba and Aladdin's dreams, after all.
He hoped that they were happy, wherever they were. That his Eight Generals had been able to live out long, happy lives, and join their loved ones in peace once they died.
Sinbad stood and helped Suzu clean up the last of the food, the rug, as well as tidying up the rest of the house. He took a rag that Suzu handed him and wiped down the windows while Suzu swept the floor.
"Are you alright?" Sinbad asked, causing his companion to startle.
"I..." Suzu paused their sweeping. Sinbad turned to look at them, watching as their grip on the handle tightened. "It's just... you reminded me of someone, that's all. Sorry."
Huh.
Sinbad finished cleaning the windowsill before saying, "Now you've caught my interest. As you might imagine, I don't hear that a lot." Sinbad gestured to himself: a tall, muscular man with tan skin, very long purple hair, and amber eyes. Quite handsome, too.
Suzu chuckled. "Ah, not like that, it's-it's all that stuff you were saying. Is that really what you want to do with your life?"
Sinbad had wanted to help others, to save the world from depravity and distortions to the fate he foresaw. "Yes," He said, because Suzu was right. He did want to be an adventurer. It's what he'd always wanted, from the moment he'd first heard about the world beyond his village.
Suzu nodded and left to sweep the small dirt-pile they'd gathered from the floor out of their home. Sinbad dusted the shelves.
The shelves were covered in books and unlabeled jars, among other strange objects Sinbad didn't recognize. He picked one up to dust under it. The object buzzed faintly under his touch–it was a blue, bulky box with some kind of lock at the front.
"It's a magic tool."
Sinbad startled this time, almost dropping the box as he swung to face Suzu. He chuckled apologetically. Suzu blinked, then offered a smile.
"I have a couple of them, though they're no good to me." They pointed at the other unusual objects on the shelf. None of them resembled the tools that Sinbad had known so well as the greatest innovator of his generation. "I don't have a lot of ki, so they're pretty much useless. I could probably sell them for a lot, but…"
"But they're sentimental, right?" Sinbad finished. Suzu hummed in agreement.
He tapped on the lock at the front, a silent question, and Suzu nodded.
After a second of fiddling with Suzu's quiet encouragement, he realized the box wasn't locked, just sealed with a simple mechanism. He flipped the metal latch and opened the box as he heard the footsteps of Suzu wandering away.
The interior was… again, strange. Circular grooves and knobs. He twisted the knobs and nothing happened.
"You need one of these to make it work." Suzu stepped next to him, raising a thin metal disc coated in inscriptions. It reflected the evening light coming through the window.
They brushed against him as they placed the disc in the grooves. "The player uses an activation code to read the Type Six formula on the disc. Infuse it with ki, and something really cool happens."
Sinbad's eyes glinted as Suzu spoke, more so as he followed their instructions.
He focused on the magoi circulating through him, the divine energy produced by the rukh. Would the glass-rukh respond to him? His own rukh was silvery, blinding against the see-through of the other birds around them.
Whatever clicked in the force of the universe, his fingers warmed with magoi surging towards the magic tool.
Music began to play.
Loud, dancing music, drums and horns that reminded him of Maharagan. Flowers and masks, beautiful dancing women on a stage, hundreds of smiling faces.
Sindria.
A rough sound came from his throat that he quickly choked down. Suzu mumbled something in a concerned tone.
"I'm fine, no need to worry!" Sinbad flashed a grin and set the player on a small table near the shelves. "This tool really is incredible!"
Suzu chuckled, brows still creased, then leaned over to turn the knob on the player. The music lowered in volume.
"Yeah." They rubbed at their elbow, not meeting his eyes.
Sinbad softly sighed. He opted not to ask Suzu if they were okay again. If the two kept at it like they were doing, all of their conversations would devolve into wondering whether the other one was alright.
So, Sinbad looked back at the music player. His hand hovered over it, infusing a small amount more magoi. The sigil revealed itself–the mark of Magnostadt. His lips pulled into a smile. Yamraiha's home country was still kicking, still helping produce magic tools like it had back in the day. Was the city-state's research still funded by various companies? What was the magic tool market like these days?
"You mentioned an activation code," Sinbad started, "how does that work?"
"No idea. Stuff was just discovered like five years ago. It's some kind of special magical formula that can trigger other formulas to behave in different ways." Suzu shrugged. "I'm no mage."
"I see."
Sinbad would hold on to that information for later. He'd find the truth eventually.
His attention returned to the festival music as it reached a familiar melody. Common in Sindrian dancing songs, this was the part where couples paired off together.
He offered a hand. Suzu squinted at it.
"May I have this dance?" Sinbad asked, his voice rich.
Suzu spluttered.
"I-uh-I can't dance." They hugged their arms around themselves, hair seeming to stand on end. "I mean. I don't dance, and definitely not with strangers."
"But you do invite strangers into your home?"
Suzu bristled and swatted at him. "That's different! You could've drowned out there when high tide came in. And who knows how long it'd been since you ate–I doubt you do."
"You'd be right about that. I was lost for a long time." He moved his hands to his hips, glancing away for a second as the music began to slow. "But it's alright now! I can't thank you enough for helping me out."
Rolling their eyes, Suzu huffed. "Whatever. I just wish I had clothes your size. Watching you waltz around in that loincloth is–"
"Distracting?"
"–Disturbing." Suzu finished, glaring at him.
Sinbad laughed. "Ah, we'll go with that for now. Do you need any more help around the house?"
"Hmm…" Suzu's eyes surveyed the room. Soon they stepped away and behind a curtain, probably into the bedroom. "Nope!" they called, "All that's left is for you to get some rest!"
They returned with a bedroll under their arm. As the dancing song ended in the background, Sinbad accepted the gift. "Thank you, again. Letting me stay here–even for a single night–it means a lot."
Suzu nodded. "Just don't sneak into my room, yeah? If you try anything, I'm legally allowed to kill you."
He... couldn't tell whether Suzu was joking. Their expression was deadly serious.
"I would never do such a thing." It was true that his drunken harassment of women had tarnished his reputation, to the point his Eight Generals had him monitored when around alcohol. He grimaced at the reminder of his transgressions. When he was King Sinbad, he was…
"Womanizer of the Seven Seas…"
"To preserve her honor, you must marry the princess!"
Sinbad shook away the memories of misunderstanding with Kougyoku when she first arrived in Sindria with Hakuryuu–they were such impressionable kids back then, easily swayed by one side or another. Nothing like how Sinbad had seen them at the end of the old world.
It had been a long time since Sinbad had alcohol, or seriously thought about spending time with a woman–with anyone, for that matter. Or thought about his harassment or his haphazard love affairs. The memories made an uneasy feeling swirl inside him–he could finally put a name to it: regret.
"Oh Rukh, now you look like you're thinking too hard about something…" Suzu's face struck him as so much more similar to Judar's in that moment, disgust making their nose wrinkle. "Just don't, okay?"
"I'll respect your space," Sinbad said. Then he offered a small smile. "Is it possible that you might invite me into your room in the future?"
Suzu narrowed their eyes. They groaned, "I'm going to bed. If you're still here in the morning, don't wake me up. Go help the fishermen if you're bored."
Sinbad gave them an obedient nod, and they disappeared behind the curtain once more.
***
The next month passed in a similar pattern:
Sinbad woke with the sunrise and tied his hair into a ponytail with a scarf Suzu had given him. He let Suzu sleep in, instead heading to the docks with some directional help from the locals.
He never used to need directions when he was guided by the flow of destiny. Yet, now the people led him to where ships arrived and departed.
Sinbad chatted up the fishermen and assisted them with their work, often lugging nets and equipment across the docks for hours. After a week, they let him on the boats. His memories of the old days as a sailor flooded back, the salty air in his nose and rope burns on his hands. They all exchanged stories about their time on the sea.
Later, Suzu would come find him for lunch. They ate together as Suzu worked on art projects like pottery, jewelry, and collages of sea glass. They cleaned up and helped around the village, looking after local children and fetching various things for their neighbors.
Once every week or so, they headed into the marketplace.
Al-Masus was a rather large island. Not half the size of Sindria, but a decent size nonetheless. The transition from sand to dirt and dirt to stone brick was gradual. Slow enough so that when you arrived in town, you barely noticed the difference in setting. The outskirts were as sparse as the fishing village–though, a minute later, music started up.
Stands emerged from brick walls, rows and rows of displays, foods and trinkets and fabrics. Musicians ambled through the streets, playing for tips. Customers filled any available space.
The first time they'd come, the great Sinbad had almost been moved to tears by the motion in this place. He could feel the world spinning on its axis, hear chatter in dialects he didn't know, see the exchange of culture and knowledge in a hotspot of trade!
In addition to almost kissing the first shopkeep he saw, Sinbad tripped countless times trying to dance on the streets. The pavement was chipped and uneven, not to mention the fact that his limbs still liked to disobey him at the most inopportune times.
Several coins were tossed his way by people who thought he was a performer. Suzu laughed at him, and then helped him onto his feet.
They bought more clothes for him from a friendly old woman in a robe-like dress. Suzu set up a stand selling their art pieces, sat down there, and told Sinbad, "Don't go too far."
Famous last words.
On the first trip, Sinbad had gotten lost in the movement of the crowd, tipping flutists and drummers with his allotted funds as he wandered. He got some money from his work at the docks and some from Suzu, bless their soul. How would he repay them?
Most trips he focused on purchasing the bare essentials and traveling supplies, although he did indulge sometimes on treats and trinkets, always bartering down the price.
Sinbad charmed locals and tourists alike with his stories, just as he had in Reim as a young merchant. He conducted magic tricks with his magoi manipulation ability and told fortunes. People brought him malfunctioning magic tools, and after dissection and analysis, he could often repair them. David's intricate magical knowledge finally found a noble use.
By the end of three weeks, he was quite the celebrity.
His friends, of which he now had many, liked to talk to him about whatever was on their mind. They answered any of his questions in return. In this way, Sinbad learned a lot more about the world Alibaba and the others had fought so desperately to create.
The Great Powers were the most influential nations and unions of the age. The Kou Empire, the Republic of Balbadd, Western Reim, the Kina Empire, and Al-Asad or the Asadian Unity. Asadia was the new name for the massive Dark Continent, now freely connected to the rest of the world. Reim's provinces in the area, Cathargo and Maurenia, seemed to be nonexistent.
Relations between these Powers were tense due to recent advances in destructive technology. In combination with aberrant magic tools, this technology could devastate the world and potentially bring it to an end.
Thus, the Powers were locked in a stalemate.
Rumor had it, some Powers were rapidly expanding their military and territory in preparation for a Great War. Smaller nations feared invasion. Many island states, like Al-Masus, were determined to stay neutral. Though Al-Masus was technically under Balbadd's control, as he'd heard from a bold tourist–people liked to change the subject when he mentioned that.
International trade and communication continued, for now. It seemed like every traveler and citizen alike was chewing their nails and waiting for the pin to drop.
Sinbad always smiled and sent them away with encouragement.
Today was a normal day, if a little busy. In about an hour he and Suzu would meet at a nearby tavern and talk about their days, maybe get dinner, before heading home. Another hour after that was bedtime–for Suzu, at least.
"You know, if I asked anybody here which one of us had lived in Al-Masus for years and which showed up a month ago, I don't think a single person would guess right." Suzu strolled up to his mat on the street. They dropped a coin into his basket, and it clinked on the top of an appreciable pile.
Sinbad chuckled. "You don't give yourself enough credit. I couldn't have done this without your help."
"Yeah, right. Am I supposed to believe you would've stayed on that beach forever? You don't seem like the kind of guy who sits still for anything."
"I probably would've gotten up at some point," Sinbad said, smiling, "but I'd still be stumbling around by now, nowhere near accomplishing my goal." After a month of odd jobs and entertaining, Sinbad had enough funds to purchase his own boat. A small one, but a sturdy one that could take him to the mainland in one piece.
Suzu stared at him a minute before yawning. They stretched their arms. "Ah, I'm beat. You mind if we go straight home today?"
"Not at all. Let me pack up my things and we'll head out."
***
On the walk home, Sinbad noticed his companion was quieter than usual.
Normally, they liked to ramble about the weird customers of the day or show off their profits. He could see the coin pouch hanging from Suzu's belt, ignored in favor of the path ahead.
Sinbad sighed. "The weather really is nice today." And it was. A cloudless blue sky, warm with a refreshing ocean breeze. The sun sank ever so slowly in the blue expanse. It would still be light for a few hours by the time they arrived home.
He wondered when that stone house became home. Sinbad supposed it was the way of humanity, getting so attached to things so easily.
Or, it was just him, and the great Sinbad was again projecting his feelings onto the entire world so he didn't have to feel them himself.
These things could be so tedious.
"Is that really what you're thinking about, Sin?" Suzu asked without looking at him.
They were almost home.
The sandy dirt stained his feet. Suzu had offered to buy him shoes, but he liked feeling the earth. He'd started building up callouses once more, the kind he hadn't had since… ah, he was saying that a lot, wasn't he?
Sinbad had done some good as President of the new Sindria Trading Company and leader of the International Alliance. He'd abolished slavery. He'd brought about a technological and economic revolution. But his world of trade had crushed countries without the means to keep up. He'd worsened the terrible class differences across the globe that he so despised. And then he'd tried to destroy everything and everyone in order to create a new world where his will was absolute.
"I've actually... been thinking about myself, and my place in the new world." Sinbad admitted quietly. He laughed. "That sounds so arrogant when I say it out loud."
Suzu finally turned to look at him, only to shake their head.
"I don't think so at all. The most arrogant people are the ones who never wonder about their place." Their eyes glinted with some emotion he couldn't place. "To be so utterly confident about your position, to think that your feelings and beliefs will never change... that takes a very selfish kind of pride."
Wow. That felt targeted, somehow, even though he was sure that Suzu had no idea about his true history. The arguments of his fellows struck him again, reborn in a different form, yet chastising him all the same.
"You have it all figured out, huh?" Sinbad smirked as Suzu stepped forward to open the door of their house. They glanced over their shoulder with a strange expression.
"I guess," they mumbled.
Maybe Suzu was exactly the kind of person Sinbad needed on his side.
***
After dinner, they sat together on the rug.
Suzu pulled out a teapot ringed with symbols, poured seawater into it through a filter, and asked Sinbad to infuse it with magoi. The tool immediately responded, and he could hear the sound of the water boiling.
"Man, look at that. I haven't been able to make this kind of tea in years." They smiled softly, just a small curve of their lips. "I finally saved up enough for some tea-leaves all the way from Kyohana."
Another minute passed before Suzu removed the lid and scooped some of the leaves from a packet. They placed the lid back, and stared at the teapot expectantly.
They twiddled their thumbs for a while with a blank look on their face. Then, they stood, and started for the closet area where Sinbad knew they kept the broom.
"Hang on," he said, a hand outstretched toward them–not physically stopping them, just a representation of his intention. Suzu huffed a little, but they did stop.
Sinbad rubbed the back of his neck. "You've already done so much for me, so it feels wrong asking this, but…" Suzu squinted at him with that scrunched expression, meaning they were attempting to figure him out. "Could you do another favor for me? I don't want to impose–I know I've been a bother this past month."
"Been a-been a bother?!" Suzu blinked furiously. "I can't believe this! You're insufferable!"
"As I was saying–"
Suzu sat back on the ground, aggressive enough to make the rug shift. "No! You've been everything but a bother, Sin!"
Sinbad's lips parted in quiet surprise.
"Do you have any idea what you've done for me? Every day at my stall I hear 'Are you Mr. Sin's friend?' by rich tourists with nothing better to do than buy my junk!"
They gestured with a whip of the air to the pretty tapestry hung on the wall, the new curtain for their bedroom, the replaced shelves and repaired cracks in the walls. Even the pot of tea that was currently steeping.
"All of this is thanks to you! I've even had money to give to my friends, and the local fishermen have nothing but praise for your work!"
Sinbad opened his mouth wider, probably to say something, but nothing came out.
"Sure, you're annoying, clueless, and an unbearable flirt–don't think I forgot that stunt you pulled with the waitress–but, you're... really an incredible guy."
This time, all he could was laugh–a soft laugh, mostly under his breath. He remembered apologizing profusely to the waitress he flirted with all night after finding out she was married, to an influential noblewoman at that. Luckily, the waitress was amused and didn't call for his banishment from the island.
"But now you're leaving. And well. That kind of sucks." Suzu pointedly looked away before falling backwards, lying flat on the rug. "Even though it's only been a month, somehow it feels like you've been here forever."
The glass-rukh around him glistened just then, whispering like they had something to tell him. But he couldn't hear them anymore. All he could hear was his own heart.
"...About that favor I asked–"
"Seriously? I bare my soul to you and all you can think about is some damn favor?"
Sinbad snorted, tried to swallow it back, then let out a roar of laughter. "You didn't let me finish!"
Suzu crossed their arms and pouted. "This better be good."
"For my favor, I…" He took a breath. He thought about Alibaba and Aladdin, their promise to each other. "...I want you to come along with me on my adventure. I want to see the world with you."
Suzu surged up with renewed vigor.
"You want me to do what?!"
"To come with me," Sinbad said simply. "No good adventurer does it alone, do they? And I still have a great debt to pay back to you for saving me." He smiled, thought, and winked. "Not to mention a dance."
They spluttered again, slapping his shoulder. "Ah! I can't believe you! All that talk, and all you really want is to dance with me!"
"That's not all I want." He looked at them. He looked at the ceiling, imagining the sky far above. "But I would appreciate it–with real musicians this time. Trust me, my friend, dancing is far better with food, a little alcohol, and a festival spirit!"
"Somehow I doubt that,” Suzu said. They scoffed and twirled a strand of hair that had fallen in their eyes. "Still... I, uh, I don't know. I'd like to see it. To see all of it. With you."
A grin came to Sinbad's face. "So it's a promise. A debt repaid, a world explored, and a dance had!"
Suzu smiled back. "I bet you're an awful dancer."
Sinbad gasped, scorned, and Suzu howled with laughter.
The house was loud that night with plans and dreams, and light with the feeling of a new beginning.