salt on your lips
pt.1
The figurative dust settles.
He Xuan buries his family’s ashes.
The sun rises and the wind blows and his heart goes cold and quiet.
There’s a certain kind of calmness in accepting the inevitable. He Xuan was hoping he’d feel at peace before finally, finally ceasing to exist, but calmness that he feels is more emptiness than peace.
Resignation, He Xuan thinks.
Shi Wudu is dead.
Shi Qingxuan is as well as.
He Xuan will die today.
The circle is complete, the vendetta is brought upon the guilty, the sun rises and the wind blows.
He Xuan takes the ring off his cold finger and throws it in the sea. He doesn’t need to keep his ashes close anymore, he has nothing to protect, nothing to cherish and nothing to love.
Heavy, black ring meets water surface with a bright, tinkling splash. It sounds almost like a laughter.
It hurts, from some reason.
The wind carries the sound away, further and further from He Xuan.
Good. He never deserved this laughter, and he doesn’t get to have it on his deathbed either.
He Xuan closes his eyes, takes one last, unnecessary, breath, and walks into the sea. He lets it carry him, deeper and deeper, and then, for the first time in way too many years, he lets his sea drown him.
He sinks for a long time. At some point he thinks he will never stop sinking.
Then, his back hits the ground, and he lets his mind go.
***
Shi Qingxuan doesn’t have much, these days. But they have time.
They spend many hours on the shore, these days, thinking and dreaming and contemplating and never, ever reaching any conclusions.
It’s almost funny how hundreds of years of their godhood flew by, unnoticeable in their laughter and smiles and easiness. Now, one human year drags, stubborn and slow as if refusing to end.
Shi Qingxuan still laughs, smiles and drinks wine, when opportunity arises.
But most often than not they look into the water, wandering if they could’ve changed anything if only they weren’t so blind, so fucking naive.
They wanted so much to hate. Hate He Xuan, hate their ge, hate anyone except themselves, and yet.
And yet.
They love their brother and despite all the lies, Shi Qingxuan knows, he loved them, too.
They, laughably, love their friend, who never loved them, but was at least honest about it.
Who’s your friend?
You were, Shi Qingxuan begs.
You were, at least sometimes, at least a little bit.
The sea roars, making Shi Qingxuan startle out of their thoughts with a gasp.
“Now you’re just being grumpy.” Shi Qingxuan chimes, frowning. “Just like our mutual friend.”
Sea roars again, quieter this time, and retreats, taking it’s waves back almost shyly, as if hearing Shi Qingxuan, and understanding, better than anyone else, how much it hurt them, to be reminded in such a brash way of someone they lost.
As water stills thin ray of cold sunlight catches on something small and unassuming, lying on the shore, half buried in sand.
Shi Qingxuan raises to his feet, slowly and unsteadily, and limps towards the tiny object, unable to look away from it.
It’s a ring. Black, and a little bulky. Not the prettiest thing, but something tells them that it’s way more precious than it looks. It feels almost warm in their hand, and somehow, the thought of simply putting it up their sleeve seems inexcusable. They put it on their finger instead.
Something dreadful settles inside their old, beaten heart.
Shi Qingxuan sighs and turns around. Long journey is waiting ahead — they have something to discuss with Xie Lian’s husband, and it’s better not waste time.
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