Pregnant During An Apocalypse [BL]-Chapter 256 - Word of control

"You awakened your powers," Jai said softly, still half in disbelief. "That’s... actually kind of amazing. We might be able to fight better now, but I don’t know how it works—or who it works on—without testing it."

Shao didn’t respond. He simply adjusted the folds of his sleeve with slow, careful movements, as if the act could anchor his thoughts. Then, without a word, he turned and walked out of the room.

Jai blinked, startled, before trailing after him.

They reached the hallway, where Zei was humming tunelessly, swinging a half-eaten snack bar and dancing to whatever rhythm played in his head. He looked completely unbothered by the world—as usual.

When Zei caught sight of them, his eyes flicked between the two with a knowing grin.

"Well, well," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. "You two were gone a while. Should I be congratulating someone?"

Jai flushed, immediately shrinking back. Shao’s jaw clenched.

"Zei," Shao said sharply, his voice cold and steady.

Zei arched a brow. "Yeah?"

"Sit down."

Zei dropped to the floor in a heartbeat.

Jai’s heart skipped. "Shao—?"

"Shut up," Shao muttered, without thinking.

And Jai... stopped. The words caught in his throat. His body froze mid-step. Not out of choice.

His eyes widened in horror as he realized he couldn’t speak.

A silence fell over the hallway, strange and heavy.

Shao turned, intending to say something else to Zei—but when he caught the frozen look on Jai’s face, something inside him twisted violently.

"Jai?"

Jai took a shaky breath as the hold seemed to lift. His lips parted slowly, uncertainly. "What... what was that?" His voice trembled. "You used it. On me."

"I didn’t mean to," Shao said quickly, his voice rising with panic. "I didn’t even think—I just—"

"You said shut up," Jai whispered. "And I couldn’t speak."

Shao backed up a step, eyes wide, panic bubbling in his chest now. His hands trembled at his sides. "No. No, I wasn’t trying to control you. I swear—I was focused on Zei—I didn’t even mean it, Jai—"

Zei blinked up from the floor, confusion flickering across his face. "Wait... why am I down here?" He glanced around, rubbing the back of his head. "Did I trip?"

Shao barely registered him.

Jai took a step back, then another. "You can’t... you can’t just say things and make people do them. That’s not a joke. That’s not something you get to mess with."

Shao swallowed hard. "I know that. I didn’t want to use it on you. I’m not even sure how this thing works—I’m trying to keep it under control but—" His voice cracked. "It’s like it keeps leaking out of me."

He turned away, hands raking through his hair. "I’m already trying not to fall apart. This is just—more weight."

Jai’s anger faded, replaced by something gentler—an ache that settled in his chest. He stepped forward cautiously, reaching out. "Shao..."

But Shao flinched away. "Don’t. Not if you’re scared of me."

"I am scared," Jai said, honestly. "But not of you. I’m scared of what this power might do to you. To us."

That stilled Shao.

Zei, now back on his feet and dusting off his pants, glanced between them with a puzzled look. "Uh... did something happen, or...?"

"Go eat your snack somewhere else, Zei," Jai said gently.

Zei shrugged. "Sure, sure." And with a hummed tune, he wandered off again.

They were alone now.

Jai stepped closer to Shao again, this time not stopping. "Look, I know you’re overwhelmed. Anyone would be. But I trust you. Even when I’m scared, I trust you."

Shao’s breath hitched. His fingers were clenched so tightly they trembled.

"Let’s test this out, slowly," Jai offered, voice low. "Figure out what triggers it. That way it won’t just explode out of you when you’re upset."

Shao hesitated. "I don’t want to hurt anyone."

"You didn’t. Not really," Jai said. "But the next time might be different. That’s why we need to understand it."

He gently took Shao’s hand and led him back toward the living room.

Later that afternoon, Shao sat silently by the window, arms folded loosely over his chest. The sunlight poured in, golden and warm, but it did little to soothe the unease etched across his face.

Jai joined him, curling onto the couch, close but not crowding him.

"You’ve been quiet," he murmured.

"I’m afraid," Shao admitted, still staring out the window. "Afraid of myself. Of what I might say next and not be able to take back."

Jai leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder. "Then let’s test it now. Together. With boundaries."

Shao turned to him slowly, an uncertain light in his eyes. "How?"

Before Jai could reply, Zei wandered past again—still eating, still humming, somehow managing to be as obnoxious as ever without trying.

Shao’s gaze tracked him.

"Don’t," Jai warned, sensing the shift.

Shao rose from the couch.

"Sha—!"

"Zei," he said. "Dance like a chicken."

Zei flapped his arms immediately, spinning wildly and squawking down the hallway.

Jai buried his face in his hands. "This isn’t what I meant!"

"I needed to know if intent matters," Shao said, brow furrowed.

Zei continued to spin, feathers or no feathers, clucking with surprising enthusiasm.

"Stop!" Jai shouted. "Make him stop!"

Shao sighed. "Zei, stop dancing."

Zei froze mid-flap. "What the hell—?! Did I just humiliate myself? Again?!"

He slumped to the floor dramatically. "I swear, I’m cursed."

Shao returned to the couch as Zei crawled away, muttering to himself.

Jai picked up a cushion and lightly hit him with it. "You said you wouldn’t hurt people."

"I didn’t," Shao said, lips twitching. "Just bruised his pride."

"That’s worse," Jai muttered, though the corner of his mouth lifted.

Silence fell again, this time lighter.

Jai let himself settle beside Shao, shoulder brushing his. "You scared me earlier."

"I scared myself," Shao admitted. "But if you’re still here... maybe I haven’t lost everything."

"You haven’t," Jai whispered.

Shao leaned in, forehead resting lightly against Jai’s temple.

A silent thank you.

Jai closed his eyes, breathing in the warmth between them.

Whatever this power was, whatever burden it carried—they’d face it together.

And that was enough. For now.