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Shenhe has always found the rain soothing.
It’s like a balm that covers her soul, easing any aches and pains her soul may have, bound by the red ropes that the Adepti had gifted her.
(Or had she been the one to ask for them? Even now, Shenhe finds it hard to say.)
When she still lived on the mountain with Cloud Retainer, she would often sit inside the Adepti’s abode, just in the entranceway, and watch the rain pour. The soft pitter-patter of the rain on the stones was a sound that Shenhe had found brought her peace. The steady and almost rhythmic drumming is enough for anyone to be lulled into a trance, but Shenhe enjoys the sense of melancholy that it brings.
She cannot remember the last time that she has felt any emotion acutely— just the vague lingering traces of a feeling that crosses her mind like a fleeting whisper. It's like she’s reaching out for a handful of the ocean, closing her fist around the sensation of wetness on her skin and a handful of droplets that could not really compare to the real thing that she sees.
Shenhe likes the rain because here in the midst of the downpour, she can pretend that she is her own ocean. The well of feelings that sits empty at the bottom of her heart fills with the rain and she luxuriates in the little bit of rain that is collected there.
It’s not quite sadness, she knows.
But perhaps this subdued facsimile of sadness brought on by the dark skies and tears of the heavens would be enough for her, would be the closest extent to the emotions that she can really feel.
For the first time in her life, Shenhe cannot sit still in the midst of the rain. Perhaps it’s because the rain in the city is different from the rain of Mount Aocang. Regardless of whether the falling water is actually different down where the people are, she cannot bring herself to experience the rain like she has so many times before.
In fact, Shenhe wishes the rain would go away.
A loud crack of thunder rattles the windows of the simple house around her. She loiters in the small entranceway, watching the rain run off the tiled roof that covers the front door in heavy streams.
A storm has rolled in, thunder rumbling, heavy with the weight of the water that is being poured over Liyue. Lightning flashes in the distance, illuminating the Jade Chamber with a brilliant flare that Ningguang could never hope to replicate, no matter the Mora that she invests in such a sight.
It’s truly a sight to behold.
Today though, the rain only brings a different feeling. One that she cannot quite place.
If she’s being perfectly honest, Shenhe doesn’t really know what this feeling is. It feels foreign to her. The feeling sits low in her gut, a gnawing sensation that feels like it’s gnawing her from the inside out. Her mind runs in circles, a never-ending cycle that digs itself deeper into a rut the more passes it takes. The friction of her thoughts colliding messily with each other makes her head feel too warm and too heavy.
If she doesn’t know any better she would say that she is getting sick.
(Perhaps she really is.)
There’s an irresistible urge for her to do something . There is nothing to do . So Shenhe settles for braiding her hair. She pulls the red cord with her Vision out of her long locks of hair. The silvery sheen of her hair glimmers in another flash of lightning. Restlessly, she combs her fingers through the strands, teasing out the tangles with less than gentle amounts of force. It’s almost mindless, the way that she begins to weave the strands of hair together. Her hands are simply glad to have something to do instead of digging a drench of crescent moons in her palms.
Shenhe doesn’t know what this feeling is but she decides then and there that she does not like it.
Not one bit.
What started out as a quiet night in with Yun Jin had quickly evolved to this . Yun Jin had finally convinced her that it was much more convenient to have a small place in Liyue. That way, she didn’t have to make the long journey back up the mountain every night (and Shenhe did make the journey back up the mountain every night because she wanted to spend the day in the city, with Yun Jin.)
The original plans had been to buy food at Wanmin restaurant and then take it back to Shenhe’s new house to eat it. A celebration of sorts for her new house— a housewarming, Yun Jin had called it.
Shenhe thinks this is a strange name for such a celebration. Her house is sufficiently warm already, why must they warm it further? Would it not be uncomfortable? Perhaps it is because of her Vision that she does not notice the temperature in her house is lower than normal?
Yun Jin didn’t get to answer Shenhe’s questions though.
The pair of them had arrived at Shenhe’s residence. It’s simple in stature, and on the outskirts of town. Quiet and out of the way, just the way that Shenhe prefers it. They began unpacking the various containers of food from Wanmin, the delicious aromas wafting through the air and filling the entire building with the delectable blend of Xiangling’s cooking. The entire time, Yun Jin was a steady presence at Shenhe’s side, just a heartbeat away, never out of reach. She was in the midst of telling her about her latest story about a young boy who had been called a demon his whole life but refused to submit to fate, carving his own destiny with his own two hands, that she was certain would make a fine opera.
(Shenhe agrees.)
They had been ready to dig into the many different dishes that cover Shenhe’s worn dining table— just a cheap old thing Shenhe had picked up down at the docks, when she noticed that they are short one dish.
The noodles with mountain delicacies.
It’s not a huge deal at all, Shenhe decided. She had been looking forward to trying that dish in particular but it was no matter. There was still plenty of other food on the table.
She decided to let the issue go. It was something that she had been working on. Storming back to the restaurant with her polearm in hand to rectify this wrong feels like she would earn Yun Jin’s disapproval. After all, Wanmin restaurant had been swamped when they stopped by there earlier. It was understandable.
(Yun Jin also seemed to be good friends with Xiangling and Chef Mao. Shenhe didn’t think that threatening them all that prudent either.)
Unfortunately, Yun Jin also seemed to notice the missing presence of the noodle dish— or perhaps it was the slight crestfallen look on Shenhe’s face that she didn’t quite know she was making.
“I’m going to go get it!” She announced, leaping to her feet before Shenhe could even stop her.
“You don’t have to,’ Shenhe called out. “It looks like it’s going to rain anyway.”
“I’ll be quick,” Yun Jin promised, already halfway out the door. She hopped from one foot to the other as she pulled on her boots. “You were really looking forward to those noodles. I’ll be right back!” She blows a kiss at Shenhe with a smile.
“Yun Jin!”
There was no stopping the singer as she rushed down the street, the top clasp of her boots not even done up in her haste.
She’d be right back.
That felt like an eternity ago.
In reality, Shenhe knows that it cannot have been longer than maybe a few minutes. Ten at most.
But then this storm rolled in, at a pace that matched the singer’s rush down the street. Shenhe kept expecting to see her signature headwear reappear around the corner at any moment now. Instead, the rain only poured down harder, forming a thick curtain— much like the ones that would often cloak Yun Jin’s presence just before one of her shows.
Shenhe debates going to look for Yun Jin. The other woman doesn’t have an umbrella with her. With how heavy the rain is coming down, she would be soaked by now. The only thing that keeps Shenhe rooted to the spot is the knowledge that Yun Jin liked to travel through various shortcuts and back alleyways in Liyue. Years of avoiding crowds and flocks of adoring fans had given Yun Jin a very good grasp on how to get around the city quickly and out of sight.
Being a new resident of the bustling city, Shenhe is only familiar with the main streets and a handful of Yun Jin’s shortcuts— namely the four routes that the singer liked to take between Shenhe’s new abode and the Heyu Teahouse. Neither of those pieces of information is helpful at the moment.
She’s afraid that if she went to look for Yun Jin now, they would miss each other in the street. Yun Jin would come back to an empty house and then set out again in search of her. It would be a never-ending loop in this storm.
No, the wiser choice of action would be to stay put and wait for Yun Jin. She said she would be back.
So Shenhe just had to wait and believe that she would be back.
Another rumble of thunder, low and ominous seems to grumble with disbelief at such an idea.
“She’s not my father,” Shenhe tells the storm above her head. “She will come back.”
It’s foolish, to be speaking to the clouds. Giving voice to such a declaration does make her feel better though. She had long given up on the idea that her father was ever going to come back in general, never mind for her— especially when he has been dead for so long.
The brilliant bolt of lightning feels like the sky is laughing at her— the flash of blindly bright fangs in the dark.
That makes the heated thoughts in her head simmer, red hot and close to boiling over. She winces when she accidentally tugs on her own hair a little too hard in the heat of the moment. Heavily, she breathes out, like she had been taught to by her master. She’s getting too caught up in this unfamiliar feeling, like a ship being tossed around by towering waves.
It wouldn’t do to let herself capsize in an ocean of unknown waters.
(It’s hard to navigate a sea that she doesn’t know though.)
The streets in front of her house are filling with water. The resilient bits of grass that poke their way through the gaps in the paved streets are almost completely submerged in water— drowning in what would have otherwise given them life.
Shenhe exhales, a long and trembling breath. She can see the condensation of her breath in the cold evening air. With hands that have too much energy to be still, she ties her vision back up into her hair.
She should have been the one to go out to get the noodles. Not Yun Jin.
Another thought occurs to her— what if the harbour has flooded? What if Yun Jin has been swept away by the raging waters and driving winds?
That sends her lurching to her feet, the pot of simmering thoughts roiling over into a raging boil. She can’t sit still any longer. Abruptly, she turns back towards the house, reaching for her shoes which are just inside the door.
"Shenhe!"
The sound of that voice, that voice that she had been waiting so eagerly to hear, that voice that she had momentarily thought had been drowned out by the storm— Shenhe feels like a weight has been lifted off of her.
It reminds Shenhe of a fever being broken, a cold compress being pressed to her sweaty forehead. Yun Jin is the remedy that pulls her out of her strange fever dream.
Turning, Shenhe is nearly bowled over by Yun Jin sliding to a halt in front of her. The other woman is smiling brightly, a beam of sunlight in the midst of the storm. She’s soaked to the bone, her hat dripping with water.
Yun Jin is back.
Yun Jin is back, back, back.
Yun Jin came back to her.
“Miss me?” Yun Jin teases, wrapping her arms around Shenhe’s waist. Her skin is cold to the touch, and she leaves a trail of water on Shenhe’s form but she can hardly care about a little water. The container of noodles, slightly wet but still hot, presses against Shenhe’s bare back.
“Yes,” Shenhe replies honestly. She pulls Yun Jin closer, to really remind herself that Yun Jin really is there.
This seems to surprise Yun Jin, who was not expecting such an earnest answer from her. Yun Jin studies her face intently for a moment, tilting her head to the side curiously.
Shenhe isn’t sure that she likes what Yun Jin is seeing in her own expression but she doesn’t pull away. Having Yun Jin this close to her is… very nice.
“You were worried,” Yun Jin says finally, she runs a finger along the space between Shenhe’s brows, smoothing out the furrows there with a touch so gentle that Shenhe feels more like a flower and Yun Jin is the butterfly which has just alighted upon her petals.
Worried.
Shenhe turns the idea over in her head. It had been so long ago since she had been worried. Such a feeling was so distant in her past, in her memory, that she hadn’t even realized that the illness plaguing her was simply worry.
“Yes,” Shenhe nods, “I was.”
Yun Jin stares at her again, lips parting slightly in surprise this time.
Shenhe likes all the different expressions Yun Jin makes. She likes the way that surprise can look so different on Yun Jin. In passing, she wonders if it’s the same for her as well.
“You are thinking too hard, my muse,” Yun Jin laughs. “I am here now and everything is okay.”
“You must be cold. Come in. Let’s get you out of the cold,” Shenhe backs slowly into the warmth of the house, all the while still embraced in Yun Jin’s hold.
“Well, maybe I wouldn’t be so cold, if someone didn’t freeze half the street worrying about me,” Yun Jin teases.
Shenhe pauses, confused. She looks back out at the street, and sure enough. The water that had covered the paved roads before are now sheets of ice.
“Oh.”
She waves her hand at the street, dissipating the ice in a small show of power.
“You were that worried?” Yun Jin asks, looking up into Shenhe’s eyes.
“Yes,” Shenhe admits freely. It’s exhilarating and freeing to tell Yun Jin these things and watch her smile ever wider with each new piece of information she gleans from Shenhe.
Yun Jin beams, “You never fail to keep me on my toes. I like that about you.”
“I am taller than you,” Shenhe points out nonchalantly. She kicks the door closed behind the two of them.
“Is that a joke?” Yun Jin gasps, “Did you just make a joke?”
Shenhe’s cheeks warm, enjoying Yun Jin’s close presence. The gentle pitter-patter of the rain as the storm begins to move on provides the accompaniment to Yun Jin’s joy— what is rapidly becoming Shenhe’s favourite song.
So the rain is capable of being more than a cloud of melancholy. How interesting. Yun Jin always seemed to bring new things into Shenhe’s life. Perhaps, once she would have regarded new things as a nuisance, now they are something to be treasured.
“Maybe,” She murmurs, leaning closer to Yun Jin, trying to drink up as much of her presence as she can. “Did you think it was funny?”
That only elicits another peal of laughter from Yun Jin, echoing off of the bare walls of Shenhe’s new home, warming it with the sound of her joy.
Ah. Shenhe thinks, maybe this is what housewarming means.