Whispers of the Blind

***

The night after the battle with the Shadow Scouts was still and quiet, but Yun Guo's mind was far from restful. He sat on the simple wooden bed offered to him by Elder Zhang, the Lightstone resting on the small table beside him. His hands clasped the bead tightly, the smooth surface warm from his touch.

The fight had drained him, but it wasn't the physical toll weighing on his mind—it was her.

"Lin Yi," he murmured, turning the bead over in his fingers. "How are you here? And why didn't you stay?"

He thought back to the fleeting moment by the stream. The hand that had touched his arm, the overwhelming feeling of familiarity, and then her sudden retreat. It had to be her—there was no other explanation. The bead, the bracelet, the memories flooding back.

Yun leaned back against the wall, his sightless eyes staring into the darkness. He wanted answers, but more than that, he wanted to know she was safe. This world was dangerous, and if she had paid a price to be here, what had she sacrificed?

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered to the empty room, his voice heavy with sadness.

Unbeknownst to him, Lin Yi sat just outside the small wooden house, hidden in the shadows. She leaned against the wall, her knees drawn to her chest, as she listened to his every word.

Her heart ached at the pain in his voice. She wanted so desperately to go to him, to tell him everything—that she was here, that she had followed him, that she had given up her voice to see him again.

But fear held her back.

What would he think of her? Would he be angry that she'd come here, that she had thrown her own life into chaos just to follow him? And even if he wasn't, how could she ever explain herself without words?

Her fingers brushed the bracelet still on her wrist, the place where the missing bead had once been. It was a bittersweet reminder of the bond they had shared, a bond she had never been brave enough to turn into something more.

Lin Yi closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the wooden wall. For now, all she could do was stay close to him, silently watching over him, as she had since the moment she found him.

Inside, Yun Guo's thoughts drifted to their last meeting in the main world. It had been a cold day, but Lin Yi had insisted on meeting outdoors at the little café they used to visit. He'd noticed her nervous energy, the way she fidgeted with her cup, and he'd wondered if something was on her mind.

But he hadn't pressed. He'd been so consumed by his own illness, his own regrets, that he hadn't noticed the way she looked at him—the way her eyes lingered just a little too long, as if memorizing his face.

Now, sitting in the quiet room, Yun realized how blind he had been, even when he could see.

"You cared about me, didn't you?" he murmured to the darkness. "More than I realized."

The thought filled him with both warmth and sorrow. If only he had known. If only he had told her how much her friendship had meant to him—how much she had meant to him.

"Where are you now, Lin Yi?" he whispered. "Why won't you come to me?"

***

Outside, Lin Yi bit her lip, tears streaming silently down her face. She wanted to rush into the room, to tell him everything, to ease his pain.

But her throat burned with the truth she couldn't speak. No words would come, no matter how much she tried.

Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small cloth, carefully embroidered with Yun Guo's name. She had made it during her wandering days in this new world, stitching each character as a way to keep her thoughts of him alive.

She held the cloth tightly, as if it could give her the courage she needed.

"Soon," she thought. "Soon, I'll find a way to tell you. I promise."

For now, she stayed close, silently guarding him, just as she had in life—and now in this strange new world.

***