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Liyue’s last remaining yaksha sits atop the roof of an inn.
It’s where he can be found on rare nights—when he isn’t busy purging the land of demons, darkness, or some other foe of equal gravity. Tonight is especially tranquil, a much welcome exception to his usual routine, so he resigns himself to surveying the nation before him from his favored vantage point.
He lets the gentle night breeze blow over his face, strands of his dark hair waving along with it. His amber eyes travel miles in seconds, admiring the beauty of the nation he’s sworn himself to protect for generations past, as well as those to come. The dim, comforting glow of the harbor behind the mountains, the towering peaks of Huaguang, the distant fields of Qingce—all serve to bring him a rare and delicate sense of peace. It isn’t often he feels so calm. He lets himself relax slightly, feeling a small, contented smile slip over his features.
“You should smile more often, you know.”
The yaksha jerks to alertness, fully prepared to draw his spear and engage in combat, but catches himself when he realizes who has spoken.
“Whoa, whoa! Hey! You’re quite jumpy tonight, my darling adeptus! Hehe, I only meant to let you know how handsome you look when you’re happy.”
He sighs, then clicks his tongue, equal parts annoyed and amused with his midnight visitor. It’s only her, after all. He has nothing to fear. However, he was quite enjoying his moment of stillness. He gazes down at her, and she beams up at him in return. She’s in her work uniform, despite it being well into nighttime, though she’s mostly in shadow aside from the faint, warm light shining from the inn’s downstairs lobby. Her grandfather’s hat is perched somewhat crookedly on her head, which almost causes him to crack a smile again. She has one hand behind her back and a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Hu Tao, why are you here?”
She immediately pouts, though in that teasing way of hers that he has come to know doesn’t actually mean she’s upset with him. “Jeez, can a girl not surprise her boyfriend once in a while? I was trying to be romantic, Xiao!”
Caught completely off guard by her bluntness, Xiao feels his face grow warm. They’ve been together for a while, he knows, but he can’t say he’ll ever be used to the way she says such things so matter-of-factly.
“Hey, Mister Yaksha,” She grins, “how’d you even get up there?”
“I climbed.” The funeral director rolls her eyes at that, but she begins scaling the shingles of the roof with only one hand, seeing as the other is still carrying whatever it is that she’s desperately attempting to keep out of Xiao’s sight.
She makes it up the first ledge, and Xiao watches, amused, as she struggles with the second. She does succeed though, leaving just one ledge—the one Xiao sits atop. Unluckily for her, it is also the highest yet, and she huffs in agitation.
“Help me up, will you?” She requests, holding her free hand up to Xiao, who has since recovered from her forwardness a minute ago and is feeling quite like a little petty revenge.
“And why should I?” The top of her hat is only peeking over the ledge, and Xiao laughs softly as she reaches up and tries to grab him by the boot. He pulls his leg away just in time. She shakes her head at him, mock-disappointed.
“Fine, you leave me no choice!”
She waits, for dramatic suspense of course, then reveals what she had been hiding behind her back: a covered dish. She hands it up to Xiao, who takes it warily. “No peeking!” she instructs. She then pushes herself up and over the ledge with both her hands, heaving inelegantly and letting out a little “oof” as her hat falls off her head and onto the roof. Xiao, with the dish now in his lap, retrieves the hat from beside her and waits for her to sit up before plopping it back into place atop her head.
Xiao glances at the dish in his lap again, eyes narrowed in uncertainty. He’s slightly worried, seeing as the last time Hu Tao had cooked him a meal—
“I can practically hear what you’re thinking, and no, it isn't my own cooking. I wouldn’t make that mistake again,” She grins. “I got Yanxiao to prepare it for me!” Sensing her companion’s immediate relief, she giggles and reaches over to remove the lid. “It’s your favorite!”
The familiar sight of Smiley Yanxiao’s almond tofu is comforting. The past couple of weeks, Liyue has been particularly overrun with creatures for Xiao to exterminate, so he hasn’t gotten the chance to indulge recently. He shifts his gaze to look at Hu Tao, who’s watching him fondly.
“And before you worry about little old me, I already ate inside! Yanxiao makes the most delicious prawn dumplings; I’m going to have to start visiting you here more often, hehe.”
“Thank you,” Xiao smiles, dipping his head to her before retrieving the chopsticks from the side of the bowl and beginning to eat.
There’s comfortable silence between them for the next couple of minutes. Xiao munches on his tofu, his chopsticks clinking occasionally against the dish, and Hu Tao hums quietly to herself, looking out over Dihua Marsh and laying back against the roof’s incline. Once Xiao is finished, he sets the dish aside and lays back beside her.
Her humming continues. The notes are drawn out slowly, soothingly, chillingly—Xiao certainly hasn’t heard this one before. He feels as if the mood has shifted from amiable to something notably more poignant. Something isn’t being spoken, and it unsettles him ever-so-slightly.
“What tune is that?” he asks, his gentle voice stirring her from her own little world.
“Mmm, I don’t know yet. Why, you like it?” Hu Tao is still gazing out at Liyue as she asks.
Xiao nods, reaching over to take her hand in his. He squeezes. She squeezes back.
“It’s pretty. Sounds… kind of haunting, I suppose?”
“Huh, guess you’re right,” She pauses, contemplating, then: “I think it will fit just fine.”
“Fit what? I thought you didn’t know what it was yet.”
“I didn’t. You, my dear, have just inspired me!” Her smile from earlier is back, though it doesn’t completely reach her eyes. Xiao thinks she looks just as hauntingly beautiful as her song sounds.
But something still seems off. Xiao is not so bold as to assume Hu Tao had made the trek all the way from the harbor to Wangshu in the dark of night just to see him. Meaning she must have been close by, or at least had a more important reason to seek him out than simply wanting to surprise him. He rolls his eyes in order to keep the conversation lighthearted and to avoid alerting her of his suspicions.
“So, no clients today?” He absentmindedly rubs his gloved thumb across the back of her hand when he feels her tense almost imperceptibly.
“Well, actually, I did have one.”
“Just one?” Normally, Hu Tao had a couple a day, and they hardly took long at all, provided things went smoothly.
“Mm. Just one.” She doesn’t elaborate.
“Well, how did the service go?”
“The service went great! The usual, I mean. Although,” she bites her lip and draws her brows together, seemingly conflicted.
So the funeral itself wasn’t the issue. Xiao is unsure of what else could be bothering her.
“Tao?” He urges, raising their interlaced hands to plant a gentle kiss to the skin of her knuckles. His lips brush the cool steel of her rings, forcing him to suppress a shiver. She lets out a deep breath and scoots closer to Xiao, cuddling up beside him. He takes the hint, withdrawing his hand to wrap an arm around her shoulder. She removes her hat carefully before shrinking into Xiao’s body heat. This catches him slightly off guard, seeing as it isn’t even all that cold out, but he doesn’t object.
Hu Tao grips the hat by either side of its rim, clenching and unclenching her fingers around it.
Xiao waits. He is patient; he will give her all the time she needs.
After a couple minutes, she speaks.
“Xiao, have you ever had your entire moral philosophy questioned, turned on its head, and almost very thoroughly shattered in a single day?” Her tone is far from accusatory, only troubled, voice softer than he can recall ever hearing it.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, like, has something ever made you wonder why you live your life the way you do? Say, you meet someone who also strives to protect Liyue from harm. And that person is so wildly different from yourself, but you can feel the similarities deep in your bones even though you don’t want to feel them. Because, say, they’re sloppy at what they do, or reckless, and they feel like a disgrace to everything you’ve ever taught yourself. But at the same time, you both do what you do for this nation, do you not?” She sighs, defeated. “I don’t know, something like that, maybe?”
“Hmm, I cannot say I’ve ever had an experience quite like that. I hardly make it my business to associate with foolish, aspirant martyrs.”
Hu Tao chuckles weakly. “That’s okay, I kinda figured.”
She spins the hat between her fingers, her chipped, black nail polish reflecting the pale wash of moonlight that shines through the branches surrounding them. A moment passes.
“My client didn’t want to cross over.”
Ah. Xiao frowns. Hu Tao has told him of a handful of instances wherein her past clients haven’t wanted to travel across the border to the other side, and he recalls her being mildly annoyed on several of said occasions, but it has never distressed her as much as it now seems to.
She looks small beside him, exhausted. He studies her, squinting his eyes slightly, and notes a couple of scratches on her knee, a small—yet thick—bandage on her upper leg, and a few scattered spots of dirt on her uniform. He is about to question her about their origins but she continues before he can. He’ll ask her later.
“She was about my age, maybe a year or two younger. She was killed in a freak incident with an abyss mage. It was sudden. After the service was over and I had spoken to her family and the guests, I went to Wuwang Hill to see if she had crossed yet. But she hadn’t,” Hu Tao draws in a shaky breath. “She was stubborn—rejected everything I told her. Then she cried; she just kept telling me she couldn’t leave.”
Xiao can see why that would irk Hu Tao. She’s always preached acceptance of death, and she had again been faced with someone who refused it? He’s certain this story can’t be heading anywhere good.
“Anyway, I asked her why she was so insistent on staying put. And y’know what she told me?” She doesn’t wait for Xiao to respond. “That she hadn’t said goodbye to the people she loved. I thought she meant her family, but she told me the one she was truly worried about was her fiance. I tried to tell her he would want her to move on, but she kept on crying, insisting that she couldn’t go without him.
“I guess it kind of frustrated me..? Why would you let something like that hold you back from achieving peace? It seems—”
“Ridiculous?” Xiao supplies. Hu Tao smiles sadly at him, bringing a hand to rest on Xiao’s knee beside her own. It looks as if she’s trying to ground herself to him.
“Yeah, ridiculous. But it was already dusk by then, and I just wanted to get out of there, if I’m being honest. So I pushed down my own reservations and comforted her—told her she’d be happier on the other side. Said her fiance would die too and be with her before she knew it. I mean, sixty-or-so years feels like nothing to the dead, so long as they are at peace with themselves first.” She goes silent momentarily.
“Did it work?” Xiao asks, starting to get an idea of what exactly about this incident has Hu Tao so somber.
“Luckily. Once I reminded her that she would see him again, she was a bit more compliant. She followed me through the domain that leads to the border, and it only took a little more convincing before she agreed to cross!” She makes an attempt at one of her signature cheerful laughs, but it falls flat. She winces.
“And how did you end up injured?” By now, he has a couple theories, but he decides to ask her anyway. He traces a finger gently from the scratches on her kneecap to her outer thigh, where the thick piece of gauze bandage is secured with tape.
“Oh, those! Xiao, It isn’t that serious, I’m not injured. Only a little scraped up. I just ran into a few hilichurls on my way down Wuwang. Nothing to fret about.”
The yaksha raises an eyebrow, skeptical. He presses his roaming finger down on the gauze slightly and clicks his tongue when she flinches back, the bandage spotting with red as it absorbs fresh blood.
“Ouch! Okay, I get it! I get it! Sevens, Xiao, that hurt,” She whines, sticking her tongue out at him and scrunching her eyes for added effect.
“Mm, you should have taken that to Doctor Baizhu. Doesn’t seem like nothing.” He silently apologizes for hurting her by circling around the gauze lightly, only barely touching her skin. Hu Tao relaxes, sighing.
“I’m okay, really. Thank you for your concern. I just… needed to let off some steam, I guess.”
“So you went looking for a fight to pick?” Hu Tao looks sheepish, as though she is trying to fabricate another excuse. “I suppose I cannot judge you for it. I, too, have sought out violence as a means for release.” She perks up a bit at that.
“Oh, ho ho. Adeptus Xiao, are you being emotionally vulnerable with me?”
The adeptus in question stares at her, deadpan.
“You are truly insufferable,” he mutters, though even he is aware of how soft his voice has become in her presence. “Is there anything more you wish to tell me?”
Hu Tao almost smiles, but catches herself. She hums assentingly, though she looks conflicted. “It’s somewhat silly.”
Xiao is by no means an expert in comfort, but for her, he always does his utmost to set her wayward mind to rest.
“Nonsense.” Though he knows she can most definitely act silly, he wishes she weren’t so quick to invalidate her own feelings.
She isn’t looking at him now; she’s again staring far into the dusky distance.
“Love, do you know how much I care for you?” Hu Tao’s voice is just barely shaking.
Xiao’s eyes widen as words catch in his throat. He does know. She’s amazing at showing it, always writing him poetry and bringing him thoughtful gifts. Often by his side, inspiring in him the warm, fuzzy emotions he imagines only she, Hu Tao, is capable of creating.
“I do.” He can feel his cheeks burning as he says it, but he knows she needs to hear his confirmation, and he could never deny her a thing.
She nods to herself. “Good. Well… after my client crossed the border, I was left thinking.”
“About what, Tao?”
“About death, I suppose. About what would happen if I died without getting to say goodbye to the people I love. You, in particular.
“I was wondering, had that happened to me, if I would have the same regrets she did? If I would hesitate to cross to the other side, as well.” By now, a couple of silent tears have cascaded down her cheeks, and her bright, glassy eyes seem to glow in the dark.
Xiao sighs, taking hold of Hu Tao by her waist and helping to scoot her so that she sits atop his lap, facing him. He has noted before that physical affection is often necessary for her to settle down. He rests his forehead against hers and wipes her cheek with a thumb.
“You know better than anyone the danger of regret after death. I find it hard to believe you would let such ludicrous matters as those hold you back. You’re a Hu, after all,” He tells her, gently patting the hat she continues to clutch in her hands.
She looks contemplative. “And if it’s worse for me? I mean, my client only has to wait a matter of decades. I’d be waiting for you for…”
His heart sinks when he realizes it:
“For forever, maybe.”
She nods, letting out a watery laugh and wiping her sleeve under her nose. “See, I told you it’s silly. This is the part where you tell me I “must have more respect for the adepti,” right? Your immortality is sacred, and I would be a selfish fool to scorn it. I know your duty to Liyue is a millenniums-old contract; Mister Zhongli has told me stories about it. And I’ve never really thought about it until now, but maybe after this life is over, we'll never meet again.” Her tone is despondent.
“It isn’t like you to think so negatively,” Xiao points out. She has been vulnerable with him in the past, but this seemingly hopeless side of her is so foreign to him. He doesn’t like it. Not one bit.
“The gods may have a multitude of paths for you.” He cups her cheek in his hand and she leans into it, sighing softly. It takes a moment for her to speak again.
“Hmm… maybe a part of me will stay in Teyvat, then. Become a little red butterfly and flutter along behind you so you don’t get lonely,” she giggles, and it warms Xiao’s heart. Her willingness to feign positivity in such melancholy is something he has always admired in her. He feels himself getting swept up in her. In her ember-like eyes, in her honey-sweet voice. In her carefree humor, her hidden insecurities, her strong will, her sparkling tears and dazzling smile, and so, so much more. He allows himself to indulge for the second time tonight.
“Perchance one day, Liyue won’t require its final yaksha any longer,” He offers. “The humans will take care of the nation and I’ll be put to rest. Then we may meet again.”
Xiao isn’t often one for pure speculation, but Hu Tao has a way of making him hopeful. He will serve his people for as long as he must, but even he can’t deny the appeal of his whims.
His lover stares at him, shocked by his uncharacteristic behavior, blushing visibly. Xiao feels himself smile at her, which makes her laugh again—the sound like cheerful, ringing bells. She throws her arms around his neck, beautiful and radiant and everything Xiao never knew he wanted.
She’s so close now.
She looks straight into his eyes. Straight into his soul. He feels like she might just set him ablaze.
“Or perhaps I’ll be reincarnated, and have the privilege of falling in love with you all over again.” She avows these words quietly—privately—only inches from his lips, in that playful yet sincere way of hers that never fails to leave Xiao in amusement or awe. This time, it’s the latter.
Archons, he really wants to kiss her.
“May I—”
His question is cut short when he suddenly feels Hu Tao’s lips on his.
She kisses like she does everything else—passionately. Every time they are close in this way, Xiao’s breath is stolen right out of his lungs. He’s engulfed in the scorching flames of her love, burning and bright, and he’s never felt so warm. She is the only thing he can think about at this moment, as she knots her delicate but strong fingers in the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck and tugs gently. Xiao sighs into her mouth and tightens his grip on her waist as the funeral parlor director gently eases him back so that he is flush with the roof’s shingling, only then breaking their kiss.
Looming slightly above him, she wears a blissful expression on her face. She glows—something akin to an angel. Her hat has fallen to the side, momentarily forgotten. Dark brunette locks frame her face and the star-speckled sky appears but an oil-painted backdrop as it shimmers behind her. Xiao would surely wax poetic for hours about her shiny, soft, sunsettia sweet lips, or the faint carmine flush to her skin as she catches her breath, but he has never been the wordsmith between them. Flowery language has always been Hu Tao’s forte.
“How polite of you, my Xiao! But you don’t have to ask to kiss me every time,” her amusement bleeds through her voice as she gazes at him tenderly, her eyes a sea of warmth and adoration. Xiao knows that the waters of said sea are not always calm. The underlying currents of Hu Tao’s doubt and concern will still ebb and flow, though they seem to be placated for now.
He allows Hu Tao to bask in her smugness for but a second longer before heeding her words and kissing her again, this time without warning. He relishes the muffled noise of surprise that escapes her before she caves into his touch, huffing softly and allowing him the victory.
Xiao gets lost in her ardor, in the scent of silk flowers that lingers on her clothes, an all-encompassing devotion welling up in his chest. Her fingers dance down his neck, across his biceps, and down his shoulder blades, leaving nothing but warmth in their wake. Xiao could easily spend a thousand lifetimes over again in her embrace.
She deepens their kiss, and Xiao steadies her by the small of her back as he flips their positions so she’s the one below him. He refocuses his ministrations to her neck, pressing his lips adamantly to the pale skin revealed by her slightly dislodged shirt collar. He listens for a reaction as he applies slight pressure, careful not to hurt her. Hu Tao softly whines in response, which only stokes her partner’s desire to satisfy her—to cement in her mind a certainty that they will never truly be apart for long.
“Mm, Xiao?”
He pulls away, albeit reluctantly. Hu Tao’s pigtails fan out on either side of her head, her expression affectionate and clearly content. There’s a faint mark where Xiao had been kissing her moments ago, and her blush has spread to the tips of her ears.
She is breathtaking. He tells her as much.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” is her cheeky reply, thoroughly laced with want.
Xiao searches her eyes, looking for the right string of words to express just how wholly captivated he is by her.
“Hu Tao,” he starts. She gazes up at him expectantly.
“Even if it takes us thousands of years to find one another again, I could never forget you. Not even if I tried.”
Her smile at this moment could light up the entirety of Liyue Harbor, and then some.
They may not have all the time in the world, but they have enough. And Xiao refuses to waste a second more, opting to instead continue where he left off, smiling into her skin as she tells him she loves him. He will never tire of hearing it.
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Xiao awakens long before Hu Tao does, due in part to the unessential role of a good night’s sleep in his routine, and maybe also to the fact that Hu Tao was very exhausted after the events that transpired the previous night—for more reasons than one.
The light of sunrise filters through the curtains of Xiao’s room at Wangshu, casting a soft glow over his beloved. Her long eyelashes sweep against the tops of her cheeks, her chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath she takes. Birds chirp happily beyond the window.
Xiao huffs in amusement when he surveys his surroundings in the dawnlight. His and Hu Tao’s clothes are scattered across the room, discarded haphazardly to the foot of the bed and atop Xiao’s dresser, which he had lifted her onto as soon as they’d retreated inside. He really enjoys looking up at her, okay? After all, he wants her to feel worshiped. Her hat is perched atop the lamp on his bedside table—the one garment she had reserved some care for.
Hu Tao stirs, sleepy, a hand reaching out to pull Xiao to her, flinging a leg over his own with little care for much else other than closeness. Xiao is pliant to her whims as he kisses her forehead, gladly bringing his arm up to lie over her waist.
“Morning,” She murmurs, burying her face in the juncture between his chin and shoulder. Xiao’s heart flutters at her rough, groggy morning voice. She sounds impossibly cute.
“Good morning, my love.” He busies his fingers by running them through her now-loose tresses of hair, her pigtails undone at an indeterminate stage of last night’s happenings. “Sleep well?”
“Mm.”
Xiao chuckles. Hu Tao, who is regularly so vocal, becomes a woman of few words when she’s this content.
They lie like this a while longer, simply taking in each other’s heat, reveling in the soft lighting and slightly chilly air. After minutes—or maybe hours, Xiao doesn’t know—of listening to the faint whir of the overhead fan and the birdsong outside blend with the muted beating of Hu Tao’s heart so near to him, Xiao recalls the haunting melody his lover had been humming to herself atop the roof. He wants to ask her about it.
“So,” He prompts. “What is that song going to be about?”
“Hm, what song?” She’s still half asleep, and it’s quite entertaining when she visibly frowns, her eyes mostly shut, unable to place Xiao’s words in her drowsy state.
“The one you were humming last night,” He clarifies. She processes for a couple seconds, and then it seems to click.
“Oh,” She perks up, shifting to give him a teasing smile. “It’s about you, dummy. It's a love song.”
Guiding his jaw with a moderately uncoordinated hand, Hu Tao coaxes him into a kiss, lingering for a moment after. “Silly. I thought you’d have picked up on that by now.” She chides. Xiao feels his face grow warm, but he supposes it makes sense. She had, after all, been thinking about her feelings for him, and how she may fare after death without his company.
“Huh.” He’s slightly puzzled. He contemplates the tune’s chilling quality and presumes it will be bittersweet in nature. He fails to see how it could be purely jubilant. Although, he is always curious to listen to his girlfriend’s compositions—she truly does possess undeniable talent. Plus, he concludes such a tone to be representative of all they have been through.
Two souls with too many stories to tell. Witnesses to many a sorrow, but all the stronger because of them. If he and she have made it this far—if they have endured so much by themselves, then surely together, they can face tragedies of even greater magnitudes.
“May I hear it once you’ve finished?” He implores. She pinches his cheek, giggling.
“I promise, you’ll be the first I show.”