I Am the Mask Itself

"Tony Stark?"

He answered the call, his tone lightly teasing.

"On this day of family reunions, the great Iron Man is actually calling me? What, did your armor get stuck in a chimney?"

Tony Stark's trademark rapid-fire speech came through the phone, with jazz music playing in the background.

"Ha, very funny, Soldier Boy. If I got stuck, I'd ask Thor to hammer me loose, not call someone who might burn my ass with Heat Vision."

Tony paused, and his voice grew slightly more serious.

"Listen, there's a party tonight. At my tower... well, it's not completely repaired yet, but it's usable."

"A party?" Wu Yanzu laughed. "Tony, I thought you were still treating your Pepper?"

"I already cured her! I'm Tony Stark, genius scientist—there's no problem that can stump me." Tony retorted. "Anyway, it's just a few people. Me, the old Captain popsicle, and... you know, just us."

"It's a... gathering of orphans." Tony's voice dropped. "You know, people like us don't really have anywhere to go."

Wu Yanzu froze for a moment.

Orphans.

Tony Stark. His parents had died at the hands of the Winter Soldier. His entire life had been a struggle against his father's shadow and the loneliness of losing both parents.

Steve Rogers. His father had died in World War I, and his mother had died of tuberculosis. He had lost every relative and close friend in World War II, and when he woke up, the whole world was foreign to him. He was an orphan of time.

And Jessica Jones. Her family had died in a car accident. She had survived alone, growing up burdened by guilt and the shadow of discrimination from her adoptive family.

And Wu Yanzu...

Whether it was his past life as a Chinese movie star whose parents had died early, struggling through the entertainment industry;

or Anthony Starr in this world, whose identity he had replaced and whose entire family had died in a plane crash.

Even the original Homelander.

They... all had no home.

"Sounds... pretty miserable." Wu Yanzu swirled his wineglass. "But I'm in. What time?"

"Eight. Oh, and bring your 'queen.'" Tony added. "Don't tell me you two haven't gotten together. You know I went to that premiere—those looks you were giving each other... sheesh."

"And don't wear that skintight suit of yours! This is a private party, not a comic convention!"

Seven that evening.

A black stretch Lincoln pulled up in Hell's Kitchen.

Wu Yanzu rang the doorbell.

It was quite a while before the door opened.

Jessica Jones wore her trademark old leather jacket and ripped jeans, with half a bottle of whiskey in hand and an expression that screamed, "Stay away."

"What?" She leaned against the doorframe, reeking of alcohol. "Here to check whether I skipped training? It's Christmas Eve, boss."

"I know." Wu Yanzu looked her up and down, frowning. "You're planning to wear that for Christmas?"

"What else? That white condom suit?" Jessica took a swig of whiskey. "I'm planning to drink myself unconscious and sleep until next year."

"Go change." Wu Yanzu's tone brooked no argument. "We're going to a party."

"No." Jessica tried to close the door. "I hate parties. I hate people. I hate Christmas."

A hand blocked the door.

"Tony Stark's party." Wu Yanzu looked into her eyes. "Captain America will be there too."

"..." Jessica's hand stopped. "Captain America?"

"Yeah, that old World War II popsicle." Wu Yanzu smiled. "He said it's a gathering of orphans. I think... you qualify for entry."

Jessica's eyes flickered.

Orphan.

The word was like a thorn piercing the softest part of her heart.

"Give me five minutes."

Half an hour later, when Jessica came out again, Wu Yanzu whistled.

She wasn't wearing a gown. That wasn't her style.

She wore a black cashmere turtleneck beneath a sharply tailored dark gray coat, paired with fitted black trousers and heeled ankle boots. Her hair was tied into a simple ponytail, and she wore a little light makeup.

Still cool and aloof, but now with the capable, stunning air of an urban woman.

"Not bad." Wu Yanzu opened the car door for her like a gentleman. "You almost look human."

"Keep talking and I'll shove your head into the car window." Jessica climbed into the car.

The car started up and drove into Manhattan's dazzling night.

"Why me?" Jessica watched the lights rushing past outside the window and suddenly asked, "You could bring any supermodel in New York."

Wu Yanzu held a glass of champagne and turned to look at her.

"Because they'd only give me fake smiles and ask whether I could buy them a bag."

"But you," Wu Yanzu said with a smile, "would roll your eyes at me whenever I tried to show off. It makes things feel real."

"...You're sick." Jessica turned away, but the corner of her mouth lifted slightly despite herself.

Wu Yanzu also turned toward the window, but his gaze wasn't focused on the bustling streets outside.

In his previous life as a Chinese man, Christmas had usually meant shopping mall sales and couples checking into hotels for wild nights.

He had no religious faith, and he felt even less for this foreign holiday.

But this body in this life retained some vague memories of family.

Under the effects of alcohol, those memories occasionally surged up, carrying a faint sting.

Anthony Starr's childhood had been filled with expensive gifts and empty mansions. His parents were always busy—busy making money, busy socializing. He had spent most holidays at boarding school.

But now, he was Homelander.

The entire United States was waiting for him to post "Merry Christmas" on Twitter.

"What are you thinking about?"

Jessica beside him interrupted his thoughts.

"I was thinking..." Wu Yanzu turned, his gaze openly sweeping across her chest, "...why I didn't prepare a low-cut evening gown for you in advance."

"Fuck off! That dress has too high a slit. If a fight breaks out, I'll flash everyone."

"Then don't fight." Wu Yanzu reached out and tucked the loose strands of hair by her ear back into place. "Tonight is a truce night. We're going to drink, not tear down buildings."

"Hope so." Jessica muttered. "I hate these occasions. Everyone wears masks and says things they don't mean."

"Masks are the foundation of civilization, darling." Wu Yanzu chuckled. "Without masks, humanity would have torn itself apart long ago."

"What about you?" Jessica suddenly stared directly into his eyes. "Are you wearing a mask, Anthony?"

Wu Yanzu paused.

He looked into Jessica's brown eyes, where the reflection of a flawlessly handsome man stared back at him.

"Me?"

Wu Yanzu slowly leaned closer, until their noses were nearly touching.

"I am the mask itself..."