[ just minding your own business, yeah! lili may notice yin yu is masked again today, though it's not because he's trying to be rude... rather, it's because he's trying to figure out what in the world is causing these random escapes of -- awful, random memories, and "sight" seems to be a good as guess as any. he is not keen on letting out any more of his secrets today!! (which will happen before this is over but you know).
when lili calls for him, he appears as ever, a bit further than normal, eyes cast to the ground, and gives his usual polite bow. ] Lady Lili.
[and so deeply sorry for yin yu - but she's going to be reaching up immediately to reclaim his mask again, because her usual rule stands. she has no desire to speak to him if he doesn't intend on facing her.
with it comes a steadfast resolve - the type of unflinching belief that what she had done was the right thing to do. the feeling as though that she could not be criticized for acting the way that she did, because it saved people. and that matters above all else.
even access to her home, to the castle that presides over the very lands that she worked so hard to save.
but perhaps what echoes most distantly, that rings so loudly against all the other feelings of being steady and certain -
is the realization that her father has no desire to deal with her any longer.
to be exiled from suiko castle, to be confined to a prison of her own - for all that she understands it, she realizes that it means that she may very well never see her father again.
very well, she thinks, so be it.
revolution and progress have nothing to do with a father's love.]
as the memory draws to a close, yin yu finds himself not surprised, or sorrowful, but... impressed. hurting, perhaps, for the circumstance. unsurprised, by her action--acting against her tribe's will. impressed, by her resolve, her spine as strong as steel.
empathetic, for the feeling of exile.
during the memory itself, his hand had come up, almost unconsciously, wrapping around his wrist, where the black mark of a tattoo is practically burned into his skin, and he's still processing too much to move it. the way lady lili handled that, with the grace of nobility, is something that...
...yin yu exhales, for the first time since the memory passes. she's treated to his slightly wide eyes when she reaches up to take his mask from him, looking at lili like he's seeing her again, for the first time.
and, as his thoughts process, and he straightens again, yin yu's first conscious, clear thought is: i have laid my loyalty somewhere i want it to stay. ] ...yes.
[ he's not sure if lili was able to see it, too, and chooses not to address it. if lili wants to, she will. if she wants to ignore it, he can do that too. if she doesn't know he saw, then he won't say a thing. yin yu will guard this memory, and keep it close to his chest, as a reminder that his initial assessment of lili an was right on target.
lili has more than earned yin yu's loyalty, and she will have it until they're separated, by death or by the end of this 'game'. ]
[ - it's a memory that's further back than her other ones. so it jolts her a bit, and it annoys her. that was the last time that she saw her father, after all, and of course it happened when he sent her to exile. there was one other time that she'd heard his voice but....
it might as well have been a mirage.
so she'll take yin yu's mask from him, removing it from his face, and then offer it back for him to take from her. right.]
.... you saw that, right?
[he witnessed her exile from suiko palace - something that she talks about lightly, despite the fact that she only just barely avoided the death penalty.]
[ yin yu makes a soft noise of affirmation, when she asks. he won't lie. ]
It has been a troublesome week, with such things escaping without permission. [ with a little bow of his head, he takes his mask back when she hands it to him. ] I apologize for prying.
[ even though he didn't really... it's not like he asked to see it, but it's better to apologize, anyway. there's a brief pause, as he considers what to say. knowing that it's old even just makes it more impressive: that means she got up and kept walking, even after that. ]
You are an indomitable person, my lady. [ and, again. that feeling of loyalty rings strong.
that can be it. he's willing to move along if she is. perhaps if they start talking about something else, it won't cause a chain reaction. ]
No. You don't need to apologize. I would tell anyone what happened - because it's the truth.
[and she doesn't know if she's an indomitable person for that, or just a foolishly honest one. if that's just the type of person that she is, that will always offer everything of herself to others.]
Nevertheless, it was shared without your permission. [ but!! he accepts lili's words as they are. they have something to talk about, anyway, but as yin yu opens his mouth to ask her about it, moving to affix his mask to the side of his head instead of his face, the world begins to shift.
yin yu realizes what's happening just a millisecond too late. ]
[ the world through yin yu's eyes does not come in full scenes. it comes in flashes, as if great portions of the memories have been scratched through.
the first of these is a young man, with bright, bright brown eyes and a mass of curly brown hair. he looks up at you with his eyes shining, his hands clenched into fists. he's maybe twelve or thirteen--and then again, older, sixteen, seventeen, standing in front of you, staring, adoring, blood on his lip, smiling -- the memory jerks as if they're being carried along, to a temple full of people dressed like yin yu, in similar colors, voicing their complaints.
"How old is he now, he can't always be like a child?! There are people who are dads now, at his age!"
"the moment he came here he took everything! What's so good about him!? Yin Yu-shixiong, you're the eldest disciple, if you got those privileges, we'd all let it go, you deserve it! But who the hell is he?! No education, no manners, so what if he's talented! None of us will accept him!"
you look out at the crowd, your back straight, holding a brush as the other disciples complain and complain. you can sit here and listen to these complaints because the weight of your family and your sect falls firmly on your shoulders, and you have never once let it fall. someone who was frustrated could easily give in to such a lure--the chance to complain, the chance to alienate this young disciple, but you set down your brush, close your eyes for a moment, and then, start to scold your shidi.
"What you're saying isn't right. No matter what path we cultivate, talent truly is something incredible. Besides, not only is he talented, he's willing to work hard. If you really think the master is playing favorites, then let's work harder to keep up with him, overtake him. If everyone has the time to be mad, then why not use that energy to cultivate, and train more?"
your words are gentle, full of wisdom, the chiding soft but firm. the other disciples are silenced, and they grumble only to each other, ultimately accepting your wisdom as law. only one, who you know instinctively is jian yu, your closest friend, the one who you surpassed to become the head disciple warns you, loudly, "Yin Yu, you speak for him today, but be careful of him screwing you over in the future!"
--
the memory jerks again. this time, you stand in a grand palace, your feet on white marble tiles. the gesture of your arms to welcome a stream of guests shows that you are well dressed, in fine silks, bright gold hanging from your wrists, your ears, plated armor at your shoulders. every molecule of your body feels alive. this, recognizable, is godhood. it pulses through your veins, the feeling of a thousand believers fervently praying to you for their success guides your spiritual energy, your movements. you bows your head in thanks to another god, who laughs as he brings you a present and says, "Congratulations on your ascension! I've come late, give me wine as punishment, haha!"
you smile, warm with pride, and shakes his head, gesturing for the god to enter the palace. A party goes on all around, and you're happy to observe and accept congratulations and celebrations, but the soft feeling of joy is interrupted by someone yelling, sharply, "YOUR HIGHNESS YIN YU, YOU BETTER GIVE US A GOOD EXPLANATION FOR YOUR SHIDI!"
...abruptly, you look behind you. the same curly haired boy from before, now nineteen or so, stands there, hands behind his back, jian yu beside him. you know him as well as you know any other shidi, if not better: quan yizhen looks back at you, a middle official in the employ of your palace. you chose him, brought him with you when you ascended. looking at him now, all you can do is sigh. "Yizhen, did you pick a fight again?"
"Yeah." he says, simply.
you feel the urge to rub your temples, looking out to the ruckus outside. it seems whatever middle official yizhen picked a fight with is still trying to egg something on, causing a scene outside of your palace, trying to start a fight. the person's held outside, shouting and yelling, accusing you of trying to cover it up. jian yu turns purple with held back rage behind you, but you have to smother this before it starts with grace. as you open your mouth to try and deal with it, however, quan yizhen, your troublesome shidi, suddenly pushes past you, with all of the anger of a charging bull, furious at the insult to the palace. all you can do for a moment is stare, dumbfounded.
"--Yizhen, stop!" and then rush out to chase after him.
--
the memory shifts, again, this time, it's jian yu, pacing around your side chamber and practically shouting. "The domain in the west is only so big, Yin Yu! Quan Yizhen erected a palace, and now he's robbed your devotees! Even that wolf monster he killed should have been yours! Look at the state of you, your domain is shrinking smaller and smaller, how much do you have left?! How can you maintain your standing?!"
you are tired. you are unbelievably tired. everything jian yu is saying is correct, but it's blown wildly out of proportion. you fall back on your meditation practices--be as still as water--and put out a dose of truth. "How is it considered robbing? It's not like he held anyone at knifepoint to worship him. They're willing. ...what fight? Why care for such a thing? What must leave, will always leave in the end, and what should remain will naturally stay. I didn't ascend to fight over power with anyone, especially not Yizhen, nor fight over domains, so why can't you just let this go, Jian Yu?"
jian yu practically growls and rubs his hand through his hair.
you mean what you say. you don't want to fight. (but you know, that your domain is shrinking. yizhen's talent is unstoppable. he is powerful, brilliant. the kind of person who belongs in the heaven, and you... you are fading. no matter how hard you've been working, your entire life. you are a comet, and yizhen is the sun.
that is the way of the world, and you know it. you tell yourself not to be bitter.
--
there's another odd skip, and then, yizhen is standing in front of you, looking expectant. it's his birthday, and since the awkwardness of another experience, you have been avoiding him more than before, but the young man came anyway, asking for a birthday present. yizhen looks at you with his eyes shining, and-- you are weak, you are so weak. you quickly apologize and flee to the side chamber, telling him to wait a moment over your shoulder.
you haven't prepared a birthday gift for yizhen, like you had since he was a child. it's petty and stupid, and you hate yourself for it, so you hurry to the side chamber, asking jian yu to fetch you the golden armband from the treasure chamber. the other middle official 'tsks', grabs a rag cloth, throws it on the ground, and stomps on it. "Give him this, then."
"Jian Yu!" you scold, immediately, and jian yu doesn't even look cowed, trembling with fury-
--
the scene skips. jian yu returns with a box as yizhen talks to you, looking slightly apathetic as he thinks about his week, when you ask him about his worshipers. you shouldn't ask, but maybe - if he will take this thing that you've worked for your entire life, he will take it on with aplomb. maybe you have taught him correctly, maybe he will be kind and fair, a martial god that the people could love. "i don't really know anything about worshipers. they just started showing up. i fought this other wolf monster, too..."
...yizhen wasn't even trying to get his new position as an upper heavenly official, the second martial god of the west. and -- it hurts, it hurts you so badly, but you shove it down, down, and hand him the birthday present with a small, slightly frazzled smile. he thanks you, the sun standing in your parlor, and you have to force yourself to say 'you're welcome' and send him on his way. it's bitter. it's angry. it's so dark, and that is not you.
--
things become even more blurry, then. it's as if yin yu tried to take an eraser to his own memories, and failed. a few more statements float in. yizhen, laughing when someone mistook yin yu for quan yizhen, because he thought it was silly. a feeling of utter miserable embarrassment at the banquet where he'd been confused, sinking into his seat. the gossip around the heavens, about him and his shidi, "there's only one western martial god, isn't there? oh... i forgot about his highness yin yu. don't tell him." yin yu, not invited to the parade of martial gods -- something only given to the most powerful, while yizhen took a spot. these tiny little stones start stacking, and stacking, and stacking, and you're getting heavier, and heavier with each little statement, hurting more, and more, and more. you are going to be replaced. you are replaceable. it is a matter of time, before you loosen your claws from this position you fought for for your entire life and fall forgotten as a middle official, serving the person you raised and taught, instead.
--
things come into focus as you stand in your chambers at your palace, stressed, exhausted, the glimmer of godly power in your veins flickering, holding a golden armband that was supposed to be the gift for yizhen. you look to jian yu, confused, and jian yu just says, "i gave him something better."
you immediately feel a bone deep sense of alarm, the feeling of the hairs on the back of your neck rising up, the phrase, "the brocade immortal", and suddenly, you are running out of your palace, as fast as your legs can carry you--
--
when the memory clips into focus again, quan yizhen stands in front of you, wearing golden armor. his head is tilted to the side--he looks genuinely lost and confused, like a puppy.
and you are furious.
you have never been so angry in your entire life. you are the person who suppresses, who sets it to the side, cultivation and meditation the center of your practice that led you to godhood in the first place. you have always prided yourself on your ability to keep a level head.
today, your anger is so oppressive that it pours out of you, that your hands are trembling, clenched into fists, as you finally rip something free and shout, "Did I say I wanted to go?! What's the patrol of the martial gods have to do with me?! I didn't beg you, so who are you to mention me to the emperor?!"
it's blatantly obvious that the parade is important. that quan yizhen had asked a favor of the emperor to "allow" you to march was--beyond offensive, for a martial god. those who saw you there if you did accept such an offer would talk and talk about you, and your skin wasn't thick enough for such things. how could you possibly use someone's connections--the connections of your disciple, your shidi, someone who usurped you to take a place somewhere you never belonged? you don't belong there. you weren't supposed to -- you used to be able to --
quan yizhen is silent, for a moment, but the trouble is blatant on his face. "...shixiong, why are you so mad? Did I do something wrong?"
and you. patient, kind you, you who have always defended yizhen, you who have always helped quan yizhen, you who have tried to be kind to him, kept the others from bullying him even when he got on your nerves, yin yu shixiong, yin yu dianxia, you
finally snap.
"Enough," you shout, with every part of you, " I've had enough! I'm going mad--I'm going fucking mad, because of you! Quan Yizhen--!" you point at the great martial hall, where the other gods were gathered, seething, furious, the final straw broken, "Don't talk to me anymore! Take back your recommendation, stop adding to my troubles! Go back right this second!"
without another word, quan yizhen turns, and starts walking. you blink, your entire body trembling, and your eyes slowly slide down yizhen's back, to the golden armor he's wearing. the brocade immortal--that armor-- forces the wearer to follow the orders of the person who gave it to them, and you handed him that box, on his birthday. it may have been from jian yu, but it came from your hands. yizhen wasn't remorseful, or understanding why he'd offended his shixiong. he was being compelled to do it.
shaken, you see horror before it starts, and shout, "STOP!" and quan yizhen stops. he looks bewildered, and as the martial gods step out to see what the commotion is about, you panic, and yell, "Come back--leave!"
it's confusing, but quan yizhen just cocks his head, instantly turns, and starts running straight for you. and you don't know what to do, you don't know how just to make yizhen stop, you don't know what to say or why he's coming and suddenly you're running, too. and you know, you look guilty, running like a criminal from the martial hall with yizhen on your heels. you're trying to decide what to do as the martial gods--emperor included--begin to give chase, as if to apprehend them. you can't think. you panic, completely in disarray, you have to get yizhen out of that armor, you have to make that stop, and you shout, desperate, "Leave! Leave right now--take off your clothes!"
yizhen's eyes are blank, when you look back, but his hands go to the brocade immortal. there's a moment of sheer relief that slams into you, and you think, it's over, simultaneously with, how will i explain this but as the martial gods reach them and start to try and apprehend yizhen, it's short lived. yizhen's goal -- remove the item -- is being blocked, and his gaze flashes with violence. he takes in the ten martial gods closest to him as targets, lifts his fists--you gasp --
blood splatters the ground, crimson red.
"MURDER IN THE UPPER COURT!" someone screams--
--
the memory fades, again, in and out, and you are being restrained, now, another martial god holding him under the arms. you are as white as a sheet, your heartbeat in your ears like the beating of a thousand drums, as yizhen has been fighting and fighting up to this point. it's only one desperately shouted, please stop fighting! that finally stops quan yizhen, and he's restrained, a sword in his shoulder, beaten up beyond almost recognition by the martial gods.
in the process, the palace of yin yu was nearly destroyed by the chaos. all that stands is the rubble, the circle of martial gods trying to restrain the chaos, and.. quan yizhen. you turn your head slowly, to look at yizhen, who drops to his knees, finally, and he stares up at you with that same face, utterly confused. "....what's going on?"
his oblivious face is the only thing you can see. yizhen, oblivious, stupid, oblivious yizhen, sitting in the wreckage of your life, literally, not realizing that he was the one who caused everything. every dream you've ever achieved was in that palace, and quan yizhen destroyed it. unintentionally. like everything else. it's funny. it's. it's
the irony of the situation hits you like a hammer, and shatters the glass threads of your last restraint. you laugh. it's just one, sharp, humorless bark of a laugh, and then another, and then another, your shoulders starting to quake.
"shixiong? what are you doing?" quan yizhen has crawled towards you now, trying to check up on his shixiong, still so confused, still wearing the brocade, head tilted, stupid, stupid yizhen, stupid yizhen -
your order comes out in a moment of crisp clarity.
"GO DIE!"
the light of clarity in yizhen's eyes vanishes. he reaches for the closest sword on the ground, takes it in one hand, fists the other in those curls and pulls his head up to expose his throat. the blade comes up-- ]
with a crack, he dislocates quan yizhen's sword arm--then his other, then both of his legs, the sword clatters to the ground,
the memory stops
--and yin yu stands there. the color has drained from his face, his eyes wide, his shoulders trembling. he's not breathing. it's that same feeling--the glass, shattering, as he realizes with the same clarity that whatever relationship he had started to build with lili -- it's over.
he jerks, as if a puppet brought up by its strings, and starts to take a step backwards, and then another, his heart pounding so fast he can't hear. the entire world goes to static around him - yin yu has to run he has to leave he has to get away-- ]
the people of the water tribe are calm and serene, they dislike violence, and will often wait until they can see the best course of action before they act. however when they are aggravated, the water cannot be stopped. they move forward like a torrent, unyielding, and will wipe out everything in its path.
lili thinks, not for the first time, that yin yu often reminds her of what it's like - to be an ideal citizen of the water tribe.
including the devastation that can come from choppy, relentless waters.
he jerks but she moves too, incessant. immediate. her hands reach forward to grab onto his arm before he can go, because she knows what the expression of fear and despair. she knows what it's like to want to turn away from all who know you, and disappear.]
Don't!
[don't go -
not when she just finally got to know anything about him.]
[ the hallmarks of loyalty and respectful relationships are buried deep into the fibers of yin yu's being. older to younger, father to son- ruler to subject, perhaps lately the most deeply of all. he'd always been an excellent student, a hard worker, a polite young man. the star of his sect when he was still a human, though he never once bragged, and so those relationships of respect are part of his being.
it is that core deep respect from subject to ruler --even if he is not, in this case, the intention is there--infused into him, that has yin yu freeze when lili grabs his arm. the urge to tear it out of her hand and bolt is so strong it almost overcomes him.
as a person, he is generally difficult to overwhelm. yin yu has seen many things, and his calm head has only ever failed him, really, twice in his entire life. both times occurred when quan yizhen was present, and lili just saw the first. the other was their reunion, just hours before he awoke in the middle of the ocean and had to swim to a tropical shore to participate in the first of these games. he can look at gore, blood, trauma, tragedy, stare dead into the faces of monsters and demons, and never flinch. he can hold up others when they suffer and be strong when they need. but ask yin yu to turn upon himself, his own emotions, his own failing--this specific failing, and yin yu panics, the anxiety a monster that threatens to eat him alive.
it is that panic, and that respect in twain, that roots him to the ground. in what has to be a true sign of his loyalty, lili tells him not to leave, and he does not run.
but every single muscle in his body is tense. he's practically a statue, head turned away, half turned as if midway to a sprint, his breathing shallow--muted, but still, panic threaded into every inhale and exhale that he has to force himself to push down, down, down-- ]
...Lili. [ he says. no title, his voice dull--but it's hiding a tidal wave of emotions, as if he's holding his arms across a river dam that's seconds from breaking. the weight of it is more than his shoulders can bear. yin yu doesn't know what he's asking for, either-- though perhaps, most intensely, in the most desperation, it is meant to mean let me go. ]
and yet, she cannot let him go. even as everything that she witnessed starts to process, starts to make sense, she cannot let him go. because it would be the beginning of losing him, she thinks. and oh gods, lili cannot stand to lose anyone else, or anything else. so with her trembling hand, she holds onto him, and she tries to find the words.
even if she is never any good with them.
they are chaotic, and clumsy, and tumble out of her mouth without regard for anything else - ]
I don't think any less of you!
[she has to tell him, she has to let him know.]
I'm not - One mistake isn't all you are! Being overcome, having emotions, even if they culminated in something like that... it doesn't define who you are - Yin Yu!
[because to live a life as long as he has - there must be so much more. she knows there is. there is so much kindness, so much loyalty, so much willingness to help others. he is good, and he is righteous, and he is her friend - even if she's too afraid to let that word escape into the space between them.
but more than anything else, she doesn't want to let him go.]
[ in a sense, lili is right. it doesn't define who he is.
...because yin yu is no one.
when this all happened in the first place, he could see the lines in the sand. he knew that yizhen was better than him. he knew, that with his natural talents, he would draw in followers, and people, and shine like a star. he knew his time in the sun was over, and he was... he accepted it. yin yu is someone who is aware of his limitations and capabilities. he knows where his ceiling is, and when someone beside him smashes through it on their way to their own, he is ready to let him happen.
and maybe he would have descended to life as a middle official and lived out his heavenly days in the quiet, but instead, he'd gone out with a bang he never meant to happen.
(did he? yin yu wonders, sometimes, if he meant it. he knew what he was saying. didn't he? he hates yizhen. doesn't he? he is that kind of person, and knows it, selfish, cruel.)
but now, yin yu haunts the world as a shadow of the barely there person he used to be. a nothing, a nobody, a man in a mask with a title and no name. he's been beaten down so badly by the world that being the presenceless right hand to the ghost king is an absolution, all of his youthful naivete and presence leaving behind nothing but a broken shell.
there's a moment of stiff silence. lili is holding his arm, and he doesn't tear out of it, but she's pulled at his cuff and the tattoo on his wrist is more obvious than before on his bare skin. yin yu looks at it instead of her, the reminder of the things that he has done.
he's as quiet as the grave. serious. a deep self loathing to his tone that wraps around every word. ] Just let it be.
[ lili is young. she is young, and she has been through things, but maybe she doesn't understand the gravity of what happened to him well enough. whatever speech she will have for him is not one he will listen to, this time, because it's not true. lili an handled her banishment with grace, in the memory that yin yu saw of her not moments before this, and he...
he is so tired. every bone in his body aches, as the guilt of quan yizhen sinks into him for another day. every time he thinks it's gone away, it returns. (it's never gone away, not for him.) ] Please.
[ please. please. yin yu has not asked much of lili--he gives and gives, because that is the person that he is, and today, he asks. he has shown his cards and his character. for anyone to see him as anything other than what he is - the xianxianyue officer - after that would be foolish. aside from being nowhere near anyone, he is nothing worth being near anyone, too. his kindnesses are just making up for it. his goodness is fake.
he doesn't want to talk about it. he just wants to disappear. ]
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when lili calls for him, he appears as ever, a bit further than normal, eyes cast to the ground, and gives his usual polite bow. ] Lady Lili.
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[and so deeply sorry for yin yu - but she's going to be reaching up immediately to reclaim his mask again, because her usual rule stands. she has no desire to speak to him if he doesn't intend on facing her.
but of course, it's never quite so easy.
the memory plays.
with it comes a steadfast resolve - the type of unflinching belief that what she had done was the right thing to do. the feeling as though that she could not be criticized for acting the way that she did, because it saved people. and that matters above all else.
even access to her home, to the castle that presides over the very lands that she worked so hard to save.
but perhaps what echoes most distantly, that rings so loudly against all the other feelings of being steady and certain -
is the realization that her father has no desire to deal with her any longer.
to be exiled from suiko castle, to be confined to a prison of her own - for all that she understands it, she realizes that it means that she may very well never see her father again.
very well, she thinks, so be it.
revolution and progress have nothing to do with a father's love.]
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as the memory draws to a close, yin yu finds himself not surprised, or sorrowful, but... impressed. hurting, perhaps, for the circumstance. unsurprised, by her action--acting against her tribe's will. impressed, by her resolve, her spine as strong as steel.
empathetic, for the feeling of exile.
during the memory itself, his hand had come up, almost unconsciously, wrapping around his wrist, where the black mark of a tattoo is practically burned into his skin, and he's still processing too much to move it. the way lady lili handled that, with the grace of nobility, is something that...
...yin yu exhales, for the first time since the memory passes. she's treated to his slightly wide eyes when she reaches up to take his mask from him, looking at lili like he's seeing her again, for the first time.
and, as his thoughts process, and he straightens again, yin yu's first conscious, clear thought is: i have laid my loyalty somewhere i want it to stay. ] ...yes.
[ he's not sure if lili was able to see it, too, and chooses not to address it. if lili wants to, she will. if she wants to ignore it, he can do that too. if she doesn't know he saw, then he won't say a thing. yin yu will guard this memory, and keep it close to his chest, as a reminder that his initial assessment of lili an was right on target.
lili has more than earned yin yu's loyalty, and she will have it until they're separated, by death or by the end of this 'game'. ]
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it might as well have been a mirage.
so she'll take yin yu's mask from him, removing it from his face, and then offer it back for him to take from her. right.]
.... you saw that, right?
[he witnessed her exile from suiko palace - something that she talks about lightly, despite the fact that she only just barely avoided the death penalty.]
.... it's just an old memory.
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It has been a troublesome week, with such things escaping without permission. [ with a little bow of his head, he takes his mask back when she hands it to him. ] I apologize for prying.
[ even though he didn't really... it's not like he asked to see it, but it's better to apologize, anyway. there's a brief pause, as he considers what to say. knowing that it's old even just makes it more impressive: that means she got up and kept walking, even after that. ]
You are an indomitable person, my lady. [ and, again. that feeling of loyalty rings strong.
that can be it. he's willing to move along if she is. perhaps if they start talking about something else, it won't cause a chain reaction. ]
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No. You don't need to apologize. I would tell anyone what happened - because it's the truth.
[and she doesn't know if she's an indomitable person for that, or just a foolishly honest one. if that's just the type of person that she is, that will always offer everything of herself to others.]
1/3
yin yu realizes what's happening just a millisecond too late. ]
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the first of these is a young man, with bright, bright brown eyes and a mass of curly brown hair. he looks up at you with his eyes shining, his hands clenched into fists. he's maybe twelve or thirteen--and then again, older, sixteen, seventeen, standing in front of you, staring, adoring, blood on his lip, smiling -- the memory jerks as if they're being carried along, to a temple full of people dressed like yin yu, in similar colors, voicing their complaints.
"How old is he now, he can't always be like a child?! There are people who are dads now, at his age!"
"the moment he came here he took everything! What's so good about him!? Yin Yu-shixiong, you're the eldest disciple, if you got those privileges, we'd all let it go, you deserve it! But who the hell is he?! No education, no manners, so what if he's talented! None of us will accept him!"
you look out at the crowd, your back straight, holding a brush as the other disciples complain and complain. you can sit here and listen to these complaints because the weight of your family and your sect falls firmly on your shoulders, and you have never once let it fall. someone who was frustrated could easily give in to such a lure--the chance to complain, the chance to alienate this young disciple, but you set down your brush, close your eyes for a moment, and then, start to scold your shidi.
"What you're saying isn't right. No matter what path we cultivate, talent truly is something incredible. Besides, not only is he talented, he's willing to work hard. If you really think the master is playing favorites, then let's work harder to keep up with him, overtake him. If everyone has the time to be mad, then why not use that energy to cultivate, and train more?"
your words are gentle, full of wisdom, the chiding soft but firm. the other disciples are silenced, and they grumble only to each other, ultimately accepting your wisdom as law. only one, who you know instinctively is jian yu, your closest friend, the one who you surpassed to become the head disciple warns you, loudly, "Yin Yu, you speak for him today, but be careful of him screwing you over in the future!"
--
the memory jerks again. this time, you stand in a grand palace, your feet on white marble tiles. the gesture of your arms to welcome a stream of guests shows that you are well dressed, in fine silks, bright gold hanging from your wrists, your ears, plated armor at your shoulders. every molecule of your body feels alive. this, recognizable, is godhood. it pulses through your veins, the feeling of a thousand believers fervently praying to you for their success guides your spiritual energy, your movements. you bows your head in thanks to another god, who laughs as he brings you a present and says, "Congratulations on your ascension! I've come late, give me wine as punishment, haha!"
you smile, warm with pride, and shakes his head, gesturing for the god to enter the palace. A party goes on all around, and you're happy to observe and accept congratulations and celebrations, but the soft feeling of joy is interrupted by someone yelling, sharply, "YOUR HIGHNESS YIN YU, YOU BETTER GIVE US A GOOD EXPLANATION FOR YOUR SHIDI!"
...abruptly, you look behind you. the same curly haired boy from before, now nineteen or so, stands there, hands behind his back, jian yu beside him. you know him as well as you know any other shidi, if not better: quan yizhen looks back at you, a middle official in the employ of your palace. you chose him, brought him with you when you ascended. looking at him now, all you can do is sigh. "Yizhen, did you pick a fight again?"
"Yeah." he says, simply.
you feel the urge to rub your temples, looking out to the ruckus outside. it seems whatever middle official yizhen picked a fight with is still trying to egg something on, causing a scene outside of your palace, trying to start a fight. the person's held outside, shouting and yelling, accusing you of trying to cover it up. jian yu turns purple with held back rage behind you, but you have to smother this before it starts with grace. as you open your mouth to try and deal with it, however, quan yizhen, your troublesome shidi, suddenly pushes past you, with all of the anger of a charging bull, furious at the insult to the palace. all you can do for a moment is stare, dumbfounded.
"--Yizhen, stop!" and then rush out to chase after him.
--
the memory shifts, again, this time, it's jian yu, pacing around your side chamber and practically shouting. "The domain in the west is only so big, Yin Yu! Quan Yizhen erected a palace, and now he's robbed your devotees! Even that wolf monster he killed should have been yours! Look at the state of you, your domain is shrinking smaller and smaller, how much do you have left?! How can you maintain your standing?!"
you are tired. you are unbelievably tired. everything jian yu is saying is correct, but it's blown wildly out of proportion. you fall back on your meditation practices--be as still as water--and put out a dose of truth. "How is it considered robbing? It's not like he held anyone at knifepoint to worship him. They're willing. ...what fight? Why care for such a thing? What must leave, will always leave in the end, and what should remain will naturally stay. I didn't ascend to fight over power with anyone, especially not Yizhen, nor fight over domains, so why can't you just let this go, Jian Yu?"
jian yu practically growls and rubs his hand through his hair.
you mean what you say. you don't want to fight. (but you know, that your domain is shrinking. yizhen's talent is unstoppable. he is powerful, brilliant. the kind of person who belongs in the heaven, and you... you are fading. no matter how hard you've been working, your entire life. you are a comet, and yizhen is the sun.
that is the way of the world, and you know it. you tell yourself not to be bitter.
--
there's another odd skip, and then, yizhen is standing in front of you, looking expectant. it's his birthday, and since the awkwardness of another experience, you have been avoiding him more than before, but the young man came anyway, asking for a birthday present. yizhen looks at you with his eyes shining, and-- you are weak, you are so weak. you quickly apologize and flee to the side chamber, telling him to wait a moment over your shoulder.
you haven't prepared a birthday gift for yizhen, like you had since he was a child. it's petty and stupid, and you hate yourself for it, so you hurry to the side chamber, asking jian yu to fetch you the golden armband from the treasure chamber. the other middle official 'tsks', grabs a rag cloth, throws it on the ground, and stomps on it. "Give him this, then."
"Jian Yu!" you scold, immediately, and jian yu doesn't even look cowed, trembling with fury-
--
the scene skips. jian yu returns with a box as yizhen talks to you, looking slightly apathetic as he thinks about his week, when you ask him about his worshipers. you shouldn't ask, but maybe - if he will take this thing that you've worked for your entire life, he will take it on with aplomb. maybe you have taught him correctly, maybe he will be kind and fair, a martial god that the people could love. "i don't really know anything about worshipers. they just started showing up. i fought this other wolf monster, too..."
...yizhen wasn't even trying to get his new position as an upper heavenly official, the second martial god of the west. and -- it hurts, it hurts you so badly, but you shove it down, down, and hand him the birthday present with a small, slightly frazzled smile. he thanks you, the sun standing in your parlor, and you have to force yourself to say 'you're welcome' and send him on his way. it's bitter. it's angry. it's so dark, and that is not you.
--
things become even more blurry, then. it's as if yin yu tried to take an eraser to his own memories, and failed. a few more statements float in. yizhen, laughing when someone mistook yin yu for quan yizhen, because he thought it was silly. a feeling of utter miserable embarrassment at the banquet where he'd been confused, sinking into his seat. the gossip around the heavens, about him and his shidi, "there's only one western martial god, isn't there? oh... i forgot about his highness yin yu. don't tell him." yin yu, not invited to the parade of martial gods -- something only given to the most powerful, while yizhen took a spot. these tiny little stones start stacking, and stacking, and stacking, and you're getting heavier, and heavier with each little statement, hurting more, and more, and more. you are going to be replaced. you are replaceable. it is a matter of time, before you loosen your claws from this position you fought for for your entire life and fall forgotten as a middle official, serving the person you raised and taught, instead.
--
things come into focus as you stand in your chambers at your palace, stressed, exhausted, the glimmer of godly power in your veins flickering, holding a golden armband that was supposed to be the gift for yizhen. you look to jian yu, confused, and jian yu just says, "i gave him something better."
you immediately feel a bone deep sense of alarm, the feeling of the hairs on the back of your neck rising up, the phrase, "the brocade immortal", and suddenly, you are running out of your palace, as fast as your legs can carry you--
--
when the memory clips into focus again, quan yizhen stands in front of you, wearing golden armor. his head is tilted to the side--he looks genuinely lost and confused, like a puppy.
and you are furious.
you have never been so angry in your entire life. you are the person who suppresses, who sets it to the side, cultivation and meditation the center of your practice that led you to godhood in the first place. you have always prided yourself on your ability to keep a level head.
today, your anger is so oppressive that it pours out of you, that your hands are trembling, clenched into fists, as you finally rip something free and shout, "Did I say I wanted to go?! What's the patrol of the martial gods have to do with me?! I didn't beg you, so who are you to mention me to the emperor?!"
it's blatantly obvious that the parade is important. that quan yizhen had asked a favor of the emperor to "allow" you to march was--beyond offensive, for a martial god. those who saw you there if you did accept such an offer would talk and talk about you, and your skin wasn't thick enough for such things. how could you possibly use someone's connections--the connections of your disciple, your shidi, someone who usurped you to take a place somewhere you never belonged? you don't belong there. you weren't supposed to -- you used to be able to --
quan yizhen is silent, for a moment, but the trouble is blatant on his face. "...shixiong, why are you so mad? Did I do something wrong?"
and you. patient, kind you, you who have always defended yizhen, you who have always helped quan yizhen, you who have tried to be kind to him, kept the others from bullying him even when he got on your nerves, yin yu shixiong, yin yu dianxia, you
finally snap.
"Enough," you shout, with every part of you, " I've had enough! I'm going mad--I'm going fucking mad, because of you! Quan Yizhen--!" you point at the great martial hall, where the other gods were gathered, seething, furious, the final straw broken, "Don't talk to me anymore! Take back your recommendation, stop adding to my troubles! Go back right this second!"
without another word, quan yizhen turns, and starts walking. you blink, your entire body trembling, and your eyes slowly slide down yizhen's back, to the golden armor he's wearing. the brocade immortal--that armor-- forces the wearer to follow the orders of the person who gave it to them, and you handed him that box, on his birthday. it may have been from jian yu, but it came from your hands. yizhen wasn't remorseful, or understanding why he'd offended his shixiong. he was being compelled to do it.
shaken, you see horror before it starts, and shout, "STOP!" and quan yizhen stops. he looks bewildered, and as the martial gods step out to see what the commotion is about, you panic, and yell, "Come back--leave!"
it's confusing, but quan yizhen just cocks his head, instantly turns, and starts running straight for you. and you don't know what to do, you don't know how just to make yizhen stop, you don't know what to say or why he's coming and suddenly you're running, too. and you know, you look guilty, running like a criminal from the martial hall with yizhen on your heels. you're trying to decide what to do as the martial gods--emperor included--begin to give chase, as if to apprehend them. you can't think. you panic, completely in disarray, you have to get yizhen out of that armor, you have to make that stop, and you shout, desperate, "Leave! Leave right now--take off your clothes!"
yizhen's eyes are blank, when you look back, but his hands go to the brocade immortal. there's a moment of sheer relief that slams into you, and you think, it's over, simultaneously with, how will i explain this but as the martial gods reach them and start to try and apprehend yizhen, it's short lived. yizhen's goal -- remove the item -- is being blocked, and his gaze flashes with violence. he takes in the ten martial gods closest to him as targets, lifts his fists--you gasp --
blood splatters the ground, crimson red.
"MURDER IN THE UPPER COURT!" someone screams--
--
the memory fades, again, in and out, and you are being restrained, now, another martial god holding him under the arms. you are as white as a sheet, your heartbeat in your ears like the beating of a thousand drums, as yizhen has been fighting and fighting up to this point. it's only one desperately shouted, please stop fighting! that finally stops quan yizhen, and he's restrained, a sword in his shoulder, beaten up beyond almost recognition by the martial gods.
in the process, the palace of yin yu was nearly destroyed by the chaos. all that stands is the rubble, the circle of martial gods trying to restrain the chaos, and.. quan yizhen. you turn your head slowly, to look at yizhen, who drops to his knees, finally, and he stares up at you with that same face, utterly confused. "....what's going on?"
his oblivious face is the only thing you can see. yizhen, oblivious, stupid, oblivious yizhen, sitting in the wreckage of your life, literally, not realizing that he was the one who caused everything. every dream you've ever achieved was in that palace, and quan yizhen destroyed it. unintentionally. like everything else. it's funny. it's. it's
the irony of the situation hits you like a hammer, and shatters the glass threads of your last restraint. you laugh. it's just one, sharp, humorless bark of a laugh, and then another, and then another, your shoulders starting to quake.
"shixiong? what are you doing?" quan yizhen has crawled towards you now, trying to check up on his shixiong, still so confused, still wearing the brocade, head tilted, stupid, stupid yizhen, stupid yizhen -
your order comes out in a moment of crisp clarity.
"GO DIE!"
the light of clarity in yizhen's eyes vanishes. he reaches for the closest sword on the ground, takes it in one hand, fists the other in those curls and pulls his head up to expose his throat. the blade comes up-- ]
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with a crack, he dislocates quan yizhen's sword arm--then his other, then both of his legs, the sword clatters to the ground,
the memory stops
--and yin yu stands there. the color has drained from his face, his eyes wide, his shoulders trembling. he's not breathing. it's that same feeling--the glass, shattering, as he realizes with the same clarity that whatever relationship he had started to build with lili -- it's over.
he jerks, as if a puppet brought up by its strings, and starts to take a step backwards, and then another, his heart pounding so fast he can't hear. the entire world goes to static around him - yin yu has to run he has to leave he has to get away-- ]
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it's a flood.
the people of the water tribe are calm and serene, they dislike violence, and will often wait until they can see the best course of action before they act. however when they are aggravated, the water cannot be stopped. they move forward like a torrent, unyielding, and will wipe out everything in its path.
lili thinks, not for the first time, that yin yu often reminds her of what it's like - to be an ideal citizen of the water tribe.
including the devastation that can come from choppy, relentless waters.
he jerks but she moves too, incessant. immediate. her hands reach forward to grab onto his arm before he can go, because she knows what the expression of fear and despair. she knows what it's like to want to turn away from all who know you, and disappear.]
Don't!
[don't go -
not when she just finally got to know anything about him.]
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it is that core deep respect from subject to ruler --even if he is not, in this case, the intention is there--infused into him, that has yin yu freeze when lili grabs his arm. the urge to tear it out of her hand and bolt is so strong it almost overcomes him.
as a person, he is generally difficult to overwhelm. yin yu has seen many things, and his calm head has only ever failed him, really, twice in his entire life. both times occurred when quan yizhen was present, and lili just saw the first. the other was their reunion, just hours before he awoke in the middle of the ocean and had to swim to a tropical shore to participate in the first of these games. he can look at gore, blood, trauma, tragedy, stare dead into the faces of monsters and demons, and never flinch. he can hold up others when they suffer and be strong when they need. but ask yin yu to turn upon himself, his own emotions, his own failing--this specific failing, and yin yu panics, the anxiety a monster that threatens to eat him alive.
it is that panic, and that respect in twain, that roots him to the ground. in what has to be a true sign of his loyalty, lili tells him not to leave, and he does not run.
but every single muscle in his body is tense. he's practically a statue, head turned away, half turned as if midway to a sprint, his breathing shallow--muted, but still, panic threaded into every inhale and exhale that he has to force himself to push down, down, down-- ]
...Lili. [ he says. no title, his voice dull--but it's hiding a tidal wave of emotions, as if he's holding his arms across a river dam that's seconds from breaking. the weight of it is more than his shoulders can bear. yin yu doesn't know what he's asking for, either-- though perhaps, most intensely, in the most desperation, it is meant to mean let me go. ]
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and yet, she cannot let him go. even as everything that she witnessed starts to process, starts to make sense, she cannot let him go. because it would be the beginning of losing him, she thinks. and oh gods, lili cannot stand to lose anyone else, or anything else. so with her trembling hand, she holds onto him, and she tries to find the words.
even if she is never any good with them.
they are chaotic, and clumsy, and tumble out of her mouth without regard for anything else - ]
I don't think any less of you!
[she has to tell him, she has to let him know.]
I'm not - One mistake isn't all you are! Being overcome, having emotions, even if they culminated in something like that... it doesn't define who you are - Yin Yu!
[because to live a life as long as he has - there must be so much more. she knows there is. there is so much kindness, so much loyalty, so much willingness to help others. he is good, and he is righteous, and he is her friend - even if she's too afraid to let that word escape into the space between them.
but more than anything else, she doesn't want to let him go.]
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...because yin yu is no one.
when this all happened in the first place, he could see the lines in the sand. he knew that yizhen was better than him. he knew, that with his natural talents, he would draw in followers, and people, and shine like a star. he knew his time in the sun was over, and he was... he accepted it. yin yu is someone who is aware of his limitations and capabilities. he knows where his ceiling is, and when someone beside him smashes through it on their way to their own, he is ready to let him happen.
and maybe he would have descended to life as a middle official and lived out his heavenly days in the quiet, but instead, he'd gone out with a bang he never meant to happen.
(did he? yin yu wonders, sometimes, if he meant it. he knew what he was saying. didn't he? he hates yizhen. doesn't he? he is that kind of person, and knows it, selfish, cruel.)
but now, yin yu haunts the world as a shadow of the barely there person he used to be. a nothing, a nobody, a man in a mask with a title and no name. he's been beaten down so badly by the world that being the presenceless right hand to the ghost king is an absolution, all of his youthful naivete and presence leaving behind nothing but a broken shell.
there's a moment of stiff silence. lili is holding his arm, and he doesn't tear out of it, but she's pulled at his cuff and the tattoo on his wrist is more obvious than before on his bare skin. yin yu looks at it instead of her, the reminder of the things that he has done.
he's as quiet as the grave. serious. a deep self loathing to his tone that wraps around every word. ] Just let it be.
[ lili is young. she is young, and she has been through things, but maybe she doesn't understand the gravity of what happened to him well enough. whatever speech she will have for him is not one he will listen to, this time, because it's not true. lili an handled her banishment with grace, in the memory that yin yu saw of her not moments before this, and he...
he is so tired. every bone in his body aches, as the guilt of quan yizhen sinks into him for another day. every time he thinks it's gone away, it returns. (it's never gone away, not for him.) ] Please.
[ please. please. yin yu has not asked much of lili--he gives and gives, because that is the person that he is, and today, he asks. he has shown his cards and his character. for anyone to see him as anything other than what he is - the xianxianyue officer - after that would be foolish. aside from being nowhere near anyone, he is nothing worth being near anyone, too. his kindnesses are just making up for it. his goodness is fake.
he doesn't want to talk about it. he just wants to disappear. ]