𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕖 ○ 𝕂𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕠 𝔸𝕪𝕒𝕥𝕠

I. Playing with Fire

Time waits for no-one, yet you seem to be unperturbed by the mess you have gotten yourself into. Three days will pass quickly, and those eyes of his are watching on, patiently, for the first of hesitation.

━━━

The morning hustle and bustle signature of Liyue Harbour never gets old to you. The snippets of amiable chat that you may hear as you pass by and then let blend into the background and the mingled aromas of fried street food becomes rather customary and is an everyday joy in itself – at least to you, it is. The morning sun shines with apricity, the warmth it brings being just enough to stave away the chill of the winter morning dew and breeze; you shiver, nonetheless, but in cold or warmth, it does not particularly matter. Everything, to you, is what fundamentally makes Liyue Harbour your home.

Three.

You begin by attempting to find Yelan after your escape from the trade route. It had been left empty, and you had deduced that Yelan had most likely left without you after a thorough check. But why?

You know that Yelan has a will of steel. She is the type of character who never allows anybody to fall behind or abandon her comrades when situations grow dire – she has always insisted that no life be sacrificed needlessly. The question that is posed now: what happened?

The conclusion leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

You knock on Yelan's door, your right wrist wrapped tightly in fresh gauze, though it is skillfully concealed under your normal wear. Tactical gloves and a long sleeved red tailcoat later, lo and behold – it's as if nothing happened at all. Normally, you would have just walked in, put Yelan's kettle on boil, and dropped off breakfast, given the fact that you are so close with Yelan (and being fondly aware of her being the furthest thing from a morning person) but today, you stand stiffly, awaiting a response.

There is no answer.

After a moment of waiting, you try the door handle. Locked – a good sign. You look through the windows of Yelan's house. There doesn't seem to have been anything strange going on – no break-ins, no suspicious activity. But still, no Yelan.

You eye her house one last time before walking away again, leaving red bean buns freshly steamed from the market on the kitchen counter as per usual, along with a top up of Yelan's favourite types of lemon and chilli – naturally, the tartest and spiciest ones available, respectively.

Two-half.

"...Lady Ningguang, I understand your reservations, but they could very well still be trapped in there. Backup is absolutely necessary, like I said last night." The voice comes assertive and fiery.

"Yelan, it could very well be a trap. I would urge you to withdraw from your emotions, recollect, and reassess the situation."

There comes a pause, a tense moment of brief silence, before Ningguang speaks again. "Know that you are not alone in your sentiments. I, too, feel the same way. But I cannot risk having another agent fall to save another. What is done is done. And you must accept that."

"I've known them for more than five years," Yelan says in disbelief, as if taken back by Ningguang's decisiveness. "You've known them for even longer. How can you just–"

"Yelan," Ningguang says, her voice growing firmer. "Reevaluate the matter at hand."

"What matter?" comes a third, curious voice. A rather familiar one, at that – both Yelan and Ningguang turn their heads to face the newcomer.

"[Name], we were just talking about you," Yelan says with a breath of relief, trying to maintain her aloof exterior, though it quickly and evidently fails when she stands up immediately from Ningguang's desk and begins to examine you for any wounds. Yelan is not the first person to say "I love you", but one can easily surmise just how much she cares for those she considers close.