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Ganyu’s heart clenched as Xiao vanished, whisked away from her outstretched hand like a memory, only the gentle caress of the wind soothing the dull ache in her heart. She understood her brother’s wrath, truly she did. What Rex Lapis had done was unfathomable to her as well, but she was a mere adeptus. Rex Lapis had watched millennia go by, had seen empires crumble to sand, had lost more friends than Ganyu had likely ever met. Perhaps it was foolish, but Ganyu believed in Rex Lapis. He was a god and had a completely different perspective on the world than her, one formed by the waves as they crashed against immovable stone, but it meant he could see the truth written in the sand that she might miss.
Ganyu would believe that her god had done what was right, even if she could barely understand it. He had a divine judgment that had not failed Liyue in all his years of leadership. And, most important of all, he was alive. Rex Lapis was alive and well and here right in front of her.
Why should she choose anger when her family could be whole again?
Ganyu sighed as the final wisps of Anemo energy were whisked away in the wind and pulled her hand back. Zhongli rested a hand on her shoulder gently, and Ganyu relaxed into the touch.
“I am sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
Ganyu turned and clasped his hand, a soft smile sweeping over her face.
“You did what you thought was right. That philosophy has guided Liyue through crisis upon crisis, creating a nation of prosperity. Do not apologize for what you had to do.”
Zhongli’s smile turned almost painfully soft and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“You have always been too kind for this world, my dear.”
Ganyu drank in the moment, the warmth of his lips against her forehead, the gentleness on that face she never thought she would see again, the stones beneath her feet that seemed to chant that he was here he was here he was alive and safe and well and here with her.
It was everything she had wished for.
So why did part of her ache like it never had before as she walked once more with her god and regaled him with stories of all he had missed?
Ganyu sighed as she slumped at her desk. That throbbing in her heart had only grown stronger throughout the evening, even as they walked through all her favorite places and feasted upon delicacies together and spoke only of the most glorious things. Yet, no matter how much she laughed, she could not defeat the festering pain deep within. So, as the sun had risen and Rex—Zhongli had returned to his duties at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Ganyu had glided back to her desk with a heavier heart than she knew how to carry.
And why? Because her dear friend was alive again? She was not angry like Xiao had been, yet she could not convince herself to just be happy. She felt like a fool. A fool who was wasting a second chance at life.
“Ganyu,” called a sharp voice, and Ganyu jerked to attention.
“Lady Keqing!”
“I told you not to call me that,” scolded Keqing, striding into the room with an armful of paperwork. “I’m afraid we’ve run into some supply issues with Qingce Village. No reports of bandits, no recent natural disasters, we’re not sure what’s going on.”
Ganyu hummed, leaning forward to take the stack of reports, and the weight inside her eased even as she took more on.
“Leave it to me.”
Keqing hesitated, her eyes lingering just a moment too long on Ganyu’s smile, and she nodded simply.
“I have full confidence in you.”
Keqing swept out of the room, her heels clacking in a constant rhythm that always soothed Ganyu’s nerves. Nerves. Perhaps that was it; she was nervous now that Rex Lapis was back. She had someone else relying on her now, someone else she didn’t want to fail, so perhaps she was just a little more anxious than usual. That had to be why.
Ganyu set the papers down with a thud and slid into her chair.
“Alright, I can do this.”
Ganyu did, indeed, do it, but now the moon was high in the sky again and Ganyu was left hunching over her desk, still buried in her work. The faint scratching of Keqing’s pen could be heard in the next room, and Ningguang’s heels clicked quietly as she paced in the main room. Ganyu wondered if there would be a flurry of paper snow the next morning.
“Ganyu?” Called a soft voice, far softer than any of her co-workers, and Ganyu jerked to her feet with a rush of joy so strong it left her dizzy.
“Shenhe,” replied Ganyu as her…friend strode across the palace with that expression so many would consider vacant; Ganyu saw only gentle control.
The same sort of expression Xiao made whenever someone he loved hurt him.
“What is wrong? Brother Xiao told me I should attend to you tonight,” said Shenhe, sweeping into the room and capturing Ganyu’s cheek with her hand, tilting her face up to examine with eyes that promised vengeance or comfort, whichever Ganyu needed most. “Did something happen to disquiet you?”
The ache inside Ganyu swelled, pushing all the air from her lungs, and she leaned into Shenhe’s hand wordlessly. The touch was so warm, so gentle, stealing away the pain from within her.
“Is Brother Xiao alright?”
“He currently keeps the company of the Lord of Anemo. I believe him to be in good hands.”
Definitely not alright then. But Ganyu could not disagree; for some reason she could never quite fathom, Xiao’s demeanor had always transformed the moment Lord Barbatos drew near. His shoulders eased, his eyes softened, and he was quicker to smile or play the flute. It was like his burdens were…not lifted, no, but rather…shared.
“Ganyu.”
“Yes?”
“You seem troubled.”
Ganyu chuckled. Shenhe was always so straightforward, honest where others were careful, concise where others were obtuse. It was refreshing, if she was honest, even if it could be a little scary.
“I found out that a friend whom I thought I lost…he is still alive. He had been the whole time and did not tell me. He did what he had to for his nation, but…”
Ganyu trailed off. But what? She bore no anger towards Zhongli for his actions. Truly, that was not what the pressure that crushed down on her heart was. Ganyu knew anger. She remembered the surge of rage when she heard that Keqing had missed a check-in and there were bandits in her area, the mere idea of someone harming her friend enough to nearly carry her all the way to Qingce Village without a second thought. She remembered the embers burning in her veins when someone taunted Ningguang for her “publicity stunt” of sacrificing the Jade Chamber, the home she had built for herself from the ground up with dented, rusty mora from the very first job she ever had. She remembered the searing flames that nearly overtook her senses when Osial threatened her home.
Ganyu knew anger and she knew it well.
But she did not know this feeling.
“I see,” replied Shenhe simply. “He did what was right and he hurt you in the process.”
Ganyu opened her mouth to argue with that, to defend Lord Rex Lapis, to—
But Shenhe wasn’t attacking Rex Lapis. She wasn’t attacking anyone. She was simply gazing at Ganyu with concern and gentle care swirling in her eyes. And it took Ganyu apart piece by piece.
“Yes,” breathed Ganyu, fingers trembling against Shenhe’s touch. “But it was by accident.”
“Okay,” replied Shenhe, drawing Ganyu even closer, and Ganyu’s breath caught in her throat. “What do you need now?”
…Ganyu had not considered that. She had been so caught up in the emotional rollercoaster and the sheer horror that choked her when her brother threatened Rex Lapis. She had not been present for the corruption of the other yaksha, but Xiao…he came back with blood-splattered clothing, haunted eyes, and a deadly silence that followed him for years afterwards. It was a horror she could not fathom but, for a moment, she had been so sure she would have to bear witness to it herself. That she would have to stand by while her brother was struck down.
Ganyu had survived many a heartbreak over the last several thousand years, but that…that was not one she could easily endure.
Keqing’s soft heels drew near, and Ganyu could practically hear her hovering in the doorway.
“Lady Ganyu? Have the adepti summoned you?”
Ganyu blinked as Keqing whisked into the room, sweeping Ganyu’s paperwork off her desk and into those purple-clad arms. “Very well, I suppose we can spare you for the night. I hope we can have a little more forewarning next time, but I understand that things come up. Please give me a report afterwards.”
“Oh, no, that’s not—“
“Shenhe, I entrust our secretary to you.”
Keqing shot Ganyu a look that was…probably supposed to…mean something? Ganyu wasn’t sure exactly what, but the next thing she knew, Keqing was out of the room and down the hall. A soft giggle sounded in the main room, probably Ningguang’s, along with a faint hiss that definitely belonged to Keqing. Ganyu felt like a lone island in a whirlwind; everything was happening around her, dancing just out of her reach, with no regard for what she intended. For what she wanted. Spinning around, disoriented, completely out of control.
“It seems you are free from work for the day. What would you like to do?”
…Not a completely lone island, perhaps.
“I would…I would like to…will you just come and sit with me? Up high in the mountains?”
Shenhe’s smile was something so soft, so gentle, so sweet that it stilled the storm around Ganyu. Or perhaps the entire world, because everything melted away and left only the two of them standing there as Shenhe leaned forward and took Ganyu’s hand in her own.
“We shall depart right away.”
Ganyu smiled and if it wobbled, if her hand shook in Shenhe’s, if she leaned on her friend for support as they slipped from the Jade Palace, then it was her business. And if she dared Shenhe to play chicken with the ground with her, their gliders limp against their backs as they plummeted through the clouds, well, Shenhe would keep that and Ganyu’s whooping cheers to herself. She was good at that. She was good at spreading her wings and settling down beside Ganyu (she might have won) silently. She was a good listener, even when Ganyu was out of words.
And when it became too much, when tears slipped down Ganyu’s cheeks despite her best attempts, Shenhe leaned against her and pointed out constellations as they glowed overhead. Their hands brushed as they competed to see who could find more constellations (Shenhe definitely won that one) and something tentative fluttered its wings in Ganyu’s stomach. Something honest. Something genuine. Something—no, someone—who put her first.
“Thank you, Shenhe.”
“For what? I simply spent time with you because I enjoy your company.”
Ganyu giggled, leaning against Shenhe’s shoulder and finally letting the last of her worries melt into the ground. She let it all go. Because someone was here to catch her.
“For being you.”
Ganyu had time. She had time to process what had happened, to do it her own way, and she had friends who would stand by her throughout it. Friends who would not abandon her to her confusion. A…a second family, in many ways.
“Oh. Then, thank you for being you, Ganyu.”
Family. Yes, Ganyu liked the sound of that.