[the smile she offers is brief, quick as she turns to lead them both there. the path is not impossibly long, and she knows the most even way, so as to not exhaust his current state. his grip tells her much, and already she's devising a plan of care, how to accommodate with the supplies she has. the daitengu in her soul finds their shoulders against a metaphorical wall, for she is not asking but insisting on their aid. what she has, what she can make, what can lend strength.
it will take work, but that is something Emily isn't afraid of. it will take time, but they have that. every step, they have. the road isn't littered with corpses, and she's resolved with it.
at least it isn't raining, and she ignores any youkai that may turn to look at who she brought out of the woods with her. this is her duty, the one she picked up when she brought that umbrella home. the elevator is at least running today, to make things easier when they get to the apartments - it's slow moving, but it's there.
she'll only let go of his hand once they're inside the apartment and she can go to get where the umbrella is. wrapped in cloth to keep any dust off, kept out of anyone's hands - she turns once she has it out of its bundle, and offers it out to Wujiu with both hands. it'll be instantly clear that it's been maintained, preserved. it's home again, no matter his condition - back to his hands, his arms. his anchor, returned to him.]
[He looks more beast than man, his face obscured, but if Emily looks closely behind the mess of hair and webbing hanging over it, she'll see his expression break in a way that's utterly human. Sorrow, and more powerfully, relief. He doesn't snatch for it, as one who knows him might expect him to. He takes it as gingerly as if it were made of glass, rather than ancient reeds and oiled paper; pulls it close to his chest, rests his cheek against the silent canopy, breathes in the scent of antiquity.
He'd followed her in silence through the streets, and he's silent now, for a long, long time, as if being reunited with the umbrella has rendered him into hibernation once again.
But eventually there's a clicking noise as he tries to speak.]
[she'll spare him the exact details. long enough for this to happen to his body. long enough to be worried about what if he didn't come back. what was she supposed to do? carry on, she supposes. continue to be, fight with this creature inside of her. keep it wrapped up, and maybe hope somehow that it would be a sign that he'd come back.
she had been silent as he had his own reunion, only the softest sounds as she went to retrieve some of her medicines from a cabinet. already preparing for the fact that he'll need care. perhaps more intensive than she thought. it won't solve everything, but they can begin with a glass of water brought to him, something to loosen his tongue and ease the dust in his throat. this part she knows how to do - to care for someone who certainly, utterly needs it.]
[Hhhhrrrr is the sound that signals discontent and annoyance. There's only been one person who he ever accepted that kind of poetic non-answer from (though not without complaint), and he either isn't here, or is sleeping deeper than Wujiu was.
But the water is offered to him before he can insist on a straight answer ,and he take sit, guzzling it down, wincing a little. It's cold, it's good, and it aches going down.
And he can feel the glass slipping from his hands as soon as he finishes. He sinks to his knees to keep himself from falling over, the glass safe and balanced on his thigh, his last bit of energy into his hand to steady it.
He exhales, pulling the umbrella closer to him.]
The....Lake Spirit...? [No, that's wrong, and the furrow between his brows shows that he knows it.]
I was...trying...the Forest Shrine. [To pray. To find guidance.]
[she kneels with him, taking the glass and setting it to the side.]
The Lake Spirit is at peace now. She got the sacrifice she needed to free herself, and all the others that had been lost over time. The rains have been gone for some time. Perhaps we should have asked the Forest Spirit earlier about her thoughts.
[but there's a more pressing concern.]
Wujiu, do you think you can stay awake for a little while longer? I want to run you a shower so that you don't wake with spiders in your hair. Do you think you can manage?
[the list of things she has to do gets longer and longer as she considers it, but it has to be worth it, in her mind. it will be. she hopes]
You need a doctor's care, and I'm already here. Don't run away out of pride.
[it's the kindest way she can think of to say that he shouldn't be foolish and reject it out of hand. it'd be difficult to get him somewhere else to be tended to, after all - she knows what youkai offer help, and someone else runs a clinic, but if he'll bend himself enough to be cared for by prey, she can do it. she's always offered discretion.
she kept the umbrella safe. that should count for something.]
[He can hear her sincerity. Can understand an outstretched hand. He doesn't hate people like Xie Bi'an does; he holds no grudges nor prejudices, even if he's the half of Wu Chang that seems more standoffish.
He exhales, a long, long breath, one hand aimlessly stroking the umbrella. The umbrella she'd kept safe, for...however long. Too long.
...His hands look even bonier than he remembers, the nails ragged, either overlong or broken (no doubt one or two are there, back in the woods where he escaped from. They throb dully).]
[he's listening, she knows. this is progress. she won't try to take the umbrella from him, or at all attempt to interfere with it - it's his, now and forever again. instead, she stands up with the glass, looking down at him.]
I'm going to get you some more water, for starters. Then what would be ideal is if we can get you showered, so that you can simply come out and rest.
[she doesn't have clothes for him, but she does have clean sheets, and those can simply wrap for the time being. the important part will be rebuilding his strength through medicine and healing.]
There are two options for you - either I can give you the energy to do it on your own, or I can help you. It's your choice.
[this was truly a choice, since he's already agreed to accept her help in general.]
[A lot can be said about Wujiu. He's proud, independent, determined. He thinks with his gut and heart more than with his head. But Wujiu is not stupid. He doesn't answer for a long time, pressing his forehead against the umbrella to steady himself.]
Save your energy. Whatever this place throws at us, you'll need it.
[If it was to fight, that would be one thing. But he doubts either he or the hot presence inside him can make the best use of it. Still...it's not that he's violently opposed to being helped, it's just that he hates being indebted.
Though really, considering the umbrella safe in his hands, he's already racked up a debt he can't pay back.]
[He has the energy to guzzle the next glass again, though his body feels heavy. With how long he's been sleeping, he shouldn't be wanting to sleep more, and yet...
...Frustrating.]
Be sure to leave enough to protect yourself, at least. That way of yours isn't always going to fly. [Not that he should be talking about throwing oneself impulsively into danger he can't always be faster than the pallet but he usually can get the strike.]
Give me enough credit to plan for this to happen in stages. I would put myself at risk should I attempt to undo all this at once.
[taking the empty glass from him again, this time her touch lingers, and from that point of contact there's a sensation of warmth - pleasant, slowly imbuing him with enough energy to fight the heaviness. he'll be able to keep on for a little longer, at least.]
That will prevent you from collapsing before you actually go to sleep. Now, let's get this over with, hm?
[He at least appreciates the tendril of energy. He knows it won't last, but it's enough to get his feet under him and move toward the bathroom.]
You don't have to watch this, you know.
[His umbrella in the crook of his arm, he starts unbuttoning his over-robe, managing to fold it a bit before working on the buttons on the tunic.
It bothers Xie Bi'an more than it does him, but he's not oblivious as to what a horror they look like. His black-swirled skin stretches over his ribs, shoulder blades jutting out from his back like the half-unfurled wings of a newly-emerging butterfly.
Bi'an had secretly mourned the hideous wraith they'd become, though only Wujiu had ever felt that soft bitterness.
For Wujiu, it is what it is. His body works the way he needs it to, and that's enough. ]
[whatever her personal thoughts on how he looks, she dismisses them, escorted out of the room and shut away. they have no place here - not when he is a patient in need of care. she's seen much in her time, and more in this city, and so there is no space for judgement.]
Are you telling me you want to do it yourself?
[Emily will let him, if he chooses, but the point is that she can be that safety net - much steadier and present than he is.]
[It was an out for her, should she want it. He shrugs, setting the clothes aside and taking his pants off next. Dimly, he realizes he's missing one shoe. His lower half is just as bad as his upper, his legs more like an insect's than a man's.]
Do what you think is best.
[he can't admit that it would be easier if she washes him. Right now, he just wants to curl up in the tub and--surprisingly for him--wants to only lay under the shower head.]
Here?
[With confirmation, he starts to get into the tub, but hesitates a moment. He knows he can't take the umbrella in with him, but he doesn't want to let it go. At the same time, he can't stay like this. Or... well, he could, but he shouldn't.
He takes several seconds to think, half in and half out, and eventually sets it against the wall next to the tub, within eyesight and within arms reach. Only then does he get in, drawing his knees up. ]
[she'll let him think about it, and only when she hears the sounds of him not moving anymore does she return. the bathroom is small, but there's enough room for Emily to kneel by the side and turn the water on. and the pipes are working fine today, so it means that the water is warm and stays warm the whole time.
her entire attitude is completely calm, no hint of unneeded nervousness or embarrassment about this. this is also part of healing, even if it doesn't involve stitches or medicine, and it's something that was easier to get reacquainted with in Hakagemachi. helping, pure and simple, be it by sealing over a child's accident with scissors or by washing the spider webbing from Wujiu's hair. careful, gentle, letting everything be washed away. she doesn't talk, but it's not needed, when whatever she needs to do is indicated enough with a light touch. still, Emily is observant, and if anything seems amiss - if he seems uncomfortable - she will move away, and allow it to be.]
[It's...nice. She's careful with his hair, like she was the last time she brushed it. This time, the warm water pouring over his head is welcome. Like the cloth that rubs between his shoulder blades, like the gentle hands that sometimes brush against his ears, causing them to twitch slightly.
He watches the water run down the drain, almost black with the grime that's being washed off him. It reminds him of the Nantai, reminds him of himself, and he takes these thoughts in as simple fact, rather than bad or good.
It's strange how the act of washing makes him feel more alive than anything else. That was the last time his hair had been washed by another, come to think of it. The Manor healed them and cleansed them of the dirt of their matches through its strange magic.
This isn't the Manor, though. And aside from the gaping hole in his heart, he finds he doesn't mind Hakagemachi.
He lets himself sit in silence, simply taking it in. When the water starts to lighten, he asks:]
Where did you find the umbrella? How long ago?
[She'd been coy before, but he wants to know the facts.]
[that's her best estimate. time had blurred, around the Lake Spirit's sacrifice, but she had still had her senses before. her tone is soft, as if any louder would break this odd atmosphere.]
I knew you'd never lose it. But to simply leave it there felt too careless. Too much like it would come to some harm. So I brought it back, and since I couldn't find you, I waited for you to show up and claim it again.
[the water runs clearer and clearer, taking away the evidence of those weeks with it.]
Time sometimes acts strangely here. Memories follow suit. The most important thing is that you're here currently - that you exist in the present.
[when the water now runs clear, free of dirt and soap and time, that's when she puts the showerhead back and moves to get up.]
I'm going to get you some towels.
[towels and, she decides at the cabinet, he can use sheets to wrap himself in. she doesn't have spare clothes that would fit someone as tall as him, even with the ones she ended up with from scavenging that are far more masculine. they can solve this tomorrow.
coming back, she drops back down to help wring out his hair, blotting it carefully, until it's at a point where she can stand and let him get up to dry himself.]
The sheets are to wrap yourself in, since I don't have clothes on hand - come back out when you're ready.
[she's got to figure out where she wants to set up a futon for him, after all. maybe just moving the table in the center room and offering that - keeping her bedroom to herself. generous as she can be, and despite the fact that he's been in there when her condition was worse, some things she wanted to remain hers.]
[Before, he'd never been one to wrap himself in a sheet, plodding out of their bed like an animal rising from hibernation.
Coquettish Bi'an, on the other hand...well... he wore silks like a grand queen.
Wujiu vaguely remembers how he did it, though the memory, even now, sends a familiar, pleasant heat down his neck and then sends him reaching for the umbrella.
He must be tired. This isn't the time for that.
He comes out in his makeshift clothes, looking both intimidating and utterly ridiculous, his umbrella held close.]
I can sleep anywhere. Floor's fine.
[He can imagine what she's thinking about, the way she's standing and considering her surroundings.]
Don't be foolish. I'm not going to make you do that.
[she's already begun moving the table out of the way. it's not difficult to make space, and finding the spare futon also isn't hard. that, a blanket, and a pillow, she can procure. it's not ideal, with his height, but it'll be something.]
You might as well rest for a while, Mr. Fan - it'll take some time to make your medicine, and I won't heal you more until I have that in hand.
[It's an aloof admission, and once its down he plops down into a sitting position so hard that there's a dull thud and a creaking of the floorboards.]
Thanks. You didn't have to do any of this, so I'll make it up to you. [Especially not keeping safe the umbrella that had drank so much of her blood. She really could have left it, to be buried under the leaves, to have dirt kicked over it, until a careless foot would have--
The thought makes him dizzy, and he leans his forehead against it, seeking the comfort.]
[it's what she says before going into the kitchen, and becoming absorbed in her work. certain bottles and vials contain different things, and to add them together, she relies on the wisdom through tengu eyes, the knowledge of what together brings strength and vitality, combining things in certain proportions.
it will take time, but she works steadily, judging by instincts. the clink of the bottles, the boiling of water, the scent of herbs that mix together - it takes up room in the apartment, but it comes easier to her. easier to heal a physical problem than a spiritual one, after all.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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it will take work, but that is something Emily isn't afraid of. it will take time, but they have that. every step, they have. the road isn't littered with corpses, and she's resolved with it.
at least it isn't raining, and she ignores any youkai that may turn to look at who she brought out of the woods with her. this is her duty, the one she picked up when she brought that umbrella home. the elevator is at least running today, to make things easier when they get to the apartments - it's slow moving, but it's there.
she'll only let go of his hand once they're inside the apartment and she can go to get where the umbrella is. wrapped in cloth to keep any dust off, kept out of anyone's hands - she turns once she has it out of its bundle, and offers it out to Wujiu with both hands. it'll be instantly clear that it's been maintained, preserved. it's home again, no matter his condition - back to his hands, his arms. his anchor, returned to him.]
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He'd followed her in silence through the streets, and he's silent now, for a long, long time, as if being reunited with the umbrella has rendered him into hibernation once again.
But eventually there's a clicking noise as he tries to speak.]
H-how--l-lon-n-g?
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[she'll spare him the exact details. long enough for this to happen to his body. long enough to be worried about what if he didn't come back. what was she supposed to do? carry on, she supposes. continue to be, fight with this creature inside of her. keep it wrapped up, and maybe hope somehow that it would be a sign that he'd come back.
she had been silent as he had his own reunion, only the softest sounds as she went to retrieve some of her medicines from a cabinet. already preparing for the fact that he'll need care. perhaps more intensive than she thought. it won't solve everything, but they can begin with a glass of water brought to him, something to loosen his tongue and ease the dust in his throat. this part she knows how to do - to care for someone who certainly, utterly needs it.]
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But the water is offered to him before he can insist on a straight answer ,and he take sit, guzzling it down, wincing a little. It's cold, it's good, and it aches going down.
And he can feel the glass slipping from his hands as soon as he finishes. He sinks to his knees to keep himself from falling over, the glass safe and balanced on his thigh, his last bit of energy into his hand to steady it.
He exhales, pulling the umbrella closer to him.]
The....Lake Spirit...? [No, that's wrong, and the furrow between his brows shows that he knows it.]
I was...trying...the Forest Shrine. [To pray. To find guidance.]
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The Lake Spirit is at peace now. She got the sacrifice she needed to free herself, and all the others that had been lost over time. The rains have been gone for some time. Perhaps we should have asked the Forest Spirit earlier about her thoughts.
[but there's a more pressing concern.]
Wujiu, do you think you can stay awake for a little while longer? I want to run you a shower so that you don't wake with spiders in your hair. Do you think you can manage?
[the list of things she has to do gets longer and longer as she considers it, but it has to be worth it, in her mind. it will be. she hopes]
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He gives a long, heavy sigh, and brings his hand up, rubbing at his smudged, dirty face.]
Yeah. It's... fine. I'm fine. [He's not, but he can do enough.
He coughs, bracing himself against the umbrella, dragging a breath in.]
Nngh... Just... Gimme some more water and...and I can be out of yours.
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[it's the kindest way she can think of to say that he shouldn't be foolish and reject it out of hand. it'd be difficult to get him somewhere else to be tended to, after all - she knows what youkai offer help, and someone else runs a clinic, but if he'll bend himself enough to be cared for by prey, she can do it. she's always offered discretion.
she kept the umbrella safe. that should count for something.]
Please. Let me help you.
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He exhales, a long, long breath, one hand aimlessly stroking the umbrella. The umbrella she'd kept safe, for...however long. Too long.
...His hands look even bonier than he remembers, the nails ragged, either overlong or broken (no doubt one or two are there, back in the woods where he escaped from. They throb dully).]
...Where do you want me.
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I'm going to get you some more water, for starters. Then what would be ideal is if we can get you showered, so that you can simply come out and rest.
[she doesn't have clothes for him, but she does have clean sheets, and those can simply wrap for the time being. the important part will be rebuilding his strength through medicine and healing.]
There are two options for you - either I can give you the energy to do it on your own, or I can help you. It's your choice.
[this was truly a choice, since he's already agreed to accept her help in general.]
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He doesn't answer for a long time, pressing his forehead against the umbrella to steady himself.]
Save your energy. Whatever this place throws at us, you'll need it.
[If it was to fight, that would be one thing. But he doubts either he or the hot presence inside him can make the best use of it.
Still...it's not that he's violently opposed to being helped, it's just that he hates being indebted.
Though really, considering the umbrella safe in his hands, he's already racked up a debt he can't pay back.]
I'll find a way to repay you.
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[the words come from where she's filling up his glass again, crouching back down once it is to hand it off.]
I'm a doctor. It's what I've sworn to do for people. And if I want to spend all my energy on healing you, then that's what I'll do.
[at least here, she was doing what she could. the blood on her hands was only her own.]
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[He has the energy to guzzle the next glass again, though his body feels heavy. With how long he's been sleeping, he shouldn't be wanting to sleep more, and yet...
...Frustrating.]
Be sure to leave enough to protect yourself, at least. That way of yours isn't always going to fly. [Not that he should be talking about throwing oneself impulsively into danger
he can't always be faster than the pallet but he usually can get the strike.]no subject
[taking the empty glass from him again, this time her touch lingers, and from that point of contact there's a sensation of warmth - pleasant, slowly imbuing him with enough energy to fight the heaviness. he'll be able to keep on for a little longer, at least.]
That will prevent you from collapsing before you actually go to sleep. Now, let's get this over with, hm?
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You don't have to watch this, you know.
[His umbrella in the crook of his arm, he starts unbuttoning his over-robe, managing to fold it a bit before working on the buttons on the tunic.
It bothers Xie Bi'an more than it does him, but he's not oblivious as to what a horror they look like. His black-swirled skin stretches over his ribs, shoulder blades jutting out from his back like the half-unfurled wings of a newly-emerging butterfly.
Bi'an had secretly mourned the hideous wraith they'd become, though only Wujiu had ever felt that soft bitterness.
For Wujiu, it is what it is. His body works the way he needs it to, and that's enough. ]
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Are you telling me you want to do it yourself?
[Emily will let him, if he chooses, but the point is that she can be that safety net - much steadier and present than he is.]
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Do what you think is best.
[he can't admit that it would be easier if she washes him. Right now, he just wants to curl up in the tub and--surprisingly for him--wants to only lay under the shower head.]
Here?
[With confirmation, he starts to get into the tub, but hesitates a moment. He knows he can't take the umbrella in with him, but he doesn't want to let it go. At the same time, he can't stay like this. Or... well, he could, but he shouldn't.
He takes several seconds to think, half in and half out, and eventually sets it against the wall next to the tub, within eyesight and within arms reach. Only then does he get in, drawing his knees up. ]
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her entire attitude is completely calm, no hint of unneeded nervousness or embarrassment about this. this is also part of healing, even if it doesn't involve stitches or medicine, and it's something that was easier to get reacquainted with in Hakagemachi. helping, pure and simple, be it by sealing over a child's accident with scissors or by washing the spider webbing from Wujiu's hair. careful, gentle, letting everything be washed away. she doesn't talk, but it's not needed, when whatever she needs to do is indicated enough with a light touch. still, Emily is observant, and if anything seems amiss - if he seems uncomfortable - she will move away, and allow it to be.]
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She's careful with his hair, like she was the last time she brushed it. This time, the warm water pouring over his head is welcome. Like the cloth that rubs between his shoulder blades, like the gentle hands that sometimes brush against his ears, causing them to twitch slightly.
He watches the water run down the drain, almost black with the grime that's being washed off him. It reminds him of the Nantai, reminds him of himself, and he takes these thoughts in as simple fact, rather than bad or good.
It's strange how the act of washing makes him feel more alive than anything else. That was the last time his hair had been washed by another, come to think of it. The Manor healed them and cleansed them of the dirt of their matches through its strange magic.
This isn't the Manor, though. And aside from the gaping hole in his heart, he finds he doesn't mind Hakagemachi.
He lets himself sit in silence, simply taking it in. When the water starts to lighten, he asks:]
Where did you find the umbrella? How long ago?
[She'd been coy before, but he wants to know the facts.]
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[that's her best estimate. time had blurred, around the Lake Spirit's sacrifice, but she had still had her senses before. her tone is soft, as if any louder would break this odd atmosphere.]
I knew you'd never lose it. But to simply leave it there felt too careless. Too much like it would come to some harm. So I brought it back, and since I couldn't find you, I waited for you to show up and claim it again.
[the water runs clearer and clearer, taking away the evidence of those weeks with it.]
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[There's no dust on it, he noticed. It had been wiped down, carefully wrapped...as safe as Wujiu himself would have kept it.]
Thank you. I don't remember anything myself.
[Just making his way up to the Forest Shrine...and then waking up.
She didn't need to do any of it. He doesn't entirely understand why she did--but he's grateful, nevertheless.]
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[when the water now runs clear, free of dirt and soap and time, that's when she puts the showerhead back and moves to get up.]
I'm going to get you some towels.
[towels and, she decides at the cabinet, he can use sheets to wrap himself in. she doesn't have spare clothes that would fit someone as tall as him, even with the ones she ended up with from scavenging that are far more masculine. they can solve this tomorrow.
coming back, she drops back down to help wring out his hair, blotting it carefully, until it's at a point where she can stand and let him get up to dry himself.]
The sheets are to wrap yourself in, since I don't have clothes on hand - come back out when you're ready.
[she's got to figure out where she wants to set up a futon for him, after all. maybe just moving the table in the center room and offering that - keeping her bedroom to herself. generous as she can be, and despite the fact that he's been in there when her condition was worse, some things she wanted to remain hers.]
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Coquettish Bi'an, on the other hand...well... he wore silks like a grand queen.
Wujiu vaguely remembers how he did it, though the memory, even now, sends a familiar, pleasant heat down his neck and then sends him reaching for the umbrella.
He must be tired. This isn't the time for that.
He comes out in his makeshift clothes, looking both intimidating and utterly ridiculous, his umbrella held close.]
I can sleep anywhere. Floor's fine.
[He can imagine what she's thinking about, the way she's standing and considering her surroundings.]
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[she's already begun moving the table out of the way. it's not difficult to make space, and finding the spare futon also isn't hard. that, a blanket, and a pillow, she can procure. it's not ideal, with his height, but it'll be something.]
You might as well rest for a while, Mr. Fan - it'll take some time to make your medicine, and I won't heal you more until I have that in hand.
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[It's an aloof admission, and once its down he plops down into a sitting position so hard that there's a dull thud and a creaking of the floorboards.]
Thanks. You didn't have to do any of this, so I'll make it up to you. [Especially not keeping safe the umbrella that had drank so much of her blood. She really could have left it, to be buried under the leaves, to have dirt kicked over it, until a careless foot would have--
The thought makes him dizzy, and he leans his forehead against it, seeking the comfort.]
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[it's what she says before going into the kitchen, and becoming absorbed in her work. certain bottles and vials contain different things, and to add them together, she relies on the wisdom through tengu eyes, the knowledge of what together brings strength and vitality, combining things in certain proportions.
it will take time, but she works steadily, judging by instincts. the clink of the bottles, the boiling of water, the scent of herbs that mix together - it takes up room in the apartment, but it comes easier to her. easier to heal a physical problem than a spiritual one, after all.]
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