Xian Xiao
Elementalist
Xian watched her go, standing still for a heartbeat longer than she meant to before her body finally remembered to move.
"…You're being dramatic again," she called after her, already pushing into motion, boots crunching softly along the path as she hurried to close the distance Noriko had so pointedly created.
She slipped through the drifting clouds and between the rows of trees, refusing—on principle, mostly—to let herself be left behind over whatever that little performance was supposed to be.
"I do trust you," Xian added, raising her voice just enough to be heard, though it sounded more like she was arguing with the air than admitting anything to an actual person.
A beat passed. "…Mostly."
She caught up at last, falling into step beside Noriko with a look that tried very hard to be annoyed and didn't quite manage the conviction.
"But if you actually leave me to get lost in a palace in the clouds, that's on you," she muttered, the words slipping out with more resignation than threat.
Then, quieter, almost reluctant, as if the admission cost her something small but real.
"And your heart isn't broken. You were smiling."
Noriko Ike
"…You're being dramatic again," she called after her, already pushing into motion, boots crunching softly along the path as she hurried to close the distance Noriko had so pointedly created.
She slipped through the drifting clouds and between the rows of trees, refusing—on principle, mostly—to let herself be left behind over whatever that little performance was supposed to be.
"I do trust you," Xian added, raising her voice just enough to be heard, though it sounded more like she was arguing with the air than admitting anything to an actual person.
A beat passed. "…Mostly."
She caught up at last, falling into step beside Noriko with a look that tried very hard to be annoyed and didn't quite manage the conviction.
"But if you actually leave me to get lost in a palace in the clouds, that's on you," she muttered, the words slipping out with more resignation than threat.
Then, quieter, almost reluctant, as if the admission cost her something small but real.
"And your heart isn't broken. You were smiling."