We left the science tech building fifteen minutes later. Arun had taken off his lab coat and was wearing an orange shirt beneath that matched his hair. I had to blink if I looked at him for too long. The color was brighter than I had ever seen from our pale sun. We had picked a hole-in-the-wall cafe that served delicious steamed dumplings and buns.

Walking through the campus, students on bicycles zipped past us on their way home or to an evening class. Lingyi was waiting at the main university entrance and gave a wave when she spotted us. Looking ready for spring, she had pulled back her hair with a bright green headband, and her white pants had giant pink blooms on them. She hugged us both, smelling of vanilla, and said, “Victor can’t make it. He’s meeting a client.”

I wondered what Victor was selling this time.

We made our way through the rush-hour crowds on the sidewalks. The sky was darkening, taking on the muted grays of impending night, but I still kept my sunglasses and cap on. It wasn’t worth the risk of anyone recognizing me, not when I was so close to taking on the role of Jason Zhou. Fortunately, my getup didn’t get a second glance from anyone on the streets—there were stranger things to see than a guy wearing his sunglasses and cap at night. Like the man in a giant squirrel suit that we just walked past trying to lure customers into the all-you-can-eat buffet.

Lingyi led us down a side street as a shortcut to the cafe, when Arun let out a surprised yelp. “Gods, woman! Can you not be such a ghost all the time?”

I turned to see that Iris had joined us, clad in black, and silent as a phantom. She sidestepped Arun in one agile stride to stand by Lingyi’s side, as if for protection. That thought, in itself, was laughable. “Sorry,” Iris mumbled.

The truth of the matter was, I didn’t think Iris could make noise even if she tried.

Iris caught my gaze, her slender eyes sharp as we walked past a massage parlor wreathed in neon signs and pulled down her mouth just a fraction. What’s up with him? she was asking. But Lingyi, being Lingyi, said it aloud: “Is something wrong, Arun?” She was sensitive to our moods, always looking to smooth things over. That’s what made her such a great leader.

Arun shrugged, the set of his shoulders sagging. “Hard day. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Well, dinner’s my treat.” Lingyi nodded, letting her hand brush Arun’s arm for a moment. “Especially since Zhou will be going in soon.”

Arun frowned. He was so upset, he hadn’t bothered to put on a face mask. “Oh,” he said.