Whispers in the Winter Wind

Yinhaie's steps echoed softly across the threshold, a rhythm of anticipation and concern. She stood poised between the rooms of kitchen and dining room, her gaze darting to the clock with each passing minute. Jingliu Yang, the ward of her care since childhood, had yet to return. Anxiety crept in, gnawing at her composure.

'Where is she?' Her inner voice echoed, punctuated by the rhythmic tapping of her fingers. Time stretched like taffy, pulling at her nerves.

A fellow staff member attempted to assuage her fears, offering a rationale that danced like a wisp of smoke, fragile yet comforting. "Calm down, Yinhaie. Perhaps she's enjoying time with her newfound friend. You did encourage their bond, after all."

Yinhaie paused, absorbing the words. Yes, she had nudged Yasushi to be that confidant, that beacon of friendship for Jingliu. It should have been a source of solace. Yet, the absence of a text, the unspoken void, persisted, fueling her unease.

Yinhaie's fingers danced across the screen, a flurry of urgency and relief. But before her impulse could manifest in a sent message, a chime interrupted her, bearing the words she had longed for.

"I'm out with Yasushi right now, we grabbed some snacks. I haven't eaten them yet, but I'll be home soon. Don't worry. We're off to see the Guardian of Silver monument."

The text hung in the air, a lifeline tethering Yinhaie to calmness. Her gaze fixed upon the words as if they held the secrets of the universe. Others nearby glanced at her, their curiosity palpable, wondering if her eyes might burst from their sockets.

"I'm going," she declared abruptly, tucking her phone away with determined haste. Without explanation or hesitation, she bolted from the room, leaving her colleagues stunned in her wake.

"Wait, what!? Yinhaie!" Their voices echoed, a chorus of confusion, as they watched her vanish, likely preparing for the chill embrace of the snowy world outside.

+-+

They embarked on their brisk journey toward the looming monument, a path punctuated by the quaint allure of shops and conveniences. Yasushi, ever the guide, steered them toward a particular establishment, a place he deemed special, suited to Jingliu's taste.

"Thank you for your patronage," bid the store's attendant as they stepped back into the biting embrace of winter.

The cold's sudden grip elicited a shiver from Jingliu, a testament to Ginsukimura's frosty temperament. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, mingling with the chilly air. "I thought I had acclimated to the cold, but this is different," she murmured, her words dissolving into the crisp atmosphere. "Shall we—"

Before her sentence could find its conclusion, a scarf wound itself snugly around her neck, a surprise gesture from Yasushi. Jingliu's eyes widened in bemused shock, her gaze locked on him.

He sighed, a puff of warmth in the frigid air. "I have a thick coat, that scarf was perhaps a bit excessive. Regardless, let's get going. It's just a five-minute stroll from here." With that, he set off, Jingliu trailing behind, the initial surprise fading into the rhythm of their journey.

In the shadowed background, a solitary figure stood, fingers tightly clenched in a fervor of excitement — it was Yinhaie. Swift as a whisper, she had traced their steps, observing from afar. A tender moment unfolded before her eyes, igniting a spark of hope and warmth. In that instant, she became a silent champion, a fervent believer in their potential beyond mere friendship.

"May fortune favor you... I wish for more than just friendship, Lady Jingliu," she murmured, her voice barely audible, teetering on the edge of emotion.

Driven by her newfound fervor, Yinhaie trailed them discreetly, though her demeanor garnered curious stares. To some, she appeared a curious anomaly, prompting whispers and fleeting thoughts of alerting authorities to this enigmatic presence.

+-+

They arrived at the monument, a majestic figure standing tall at around thirty feet. The sculpture depicted a woman, clad in a flowing kimono, holding a ball aloft towards the heavens, adorned with a dainty crown upon her brow.

Etched on a nearby plaque were words of significance: "The appearance of the Guardian of Silver, depicted by Mayor Kaito."

Jingliu stepped closer, her eyes fixed on the imposing yet serene figure. She tightened her grip on the scarf, a tangible anchor amidst the chill. "So this is the goddess? The Guardian of Silver... What's her name? It's not mentioned here..."

Yasushi nodded, a font of knowledge. "She's been known by many titles throughout time, but the one that endures is Hakufubuki. It roughly translates to 'The Blowing White Snowstorm,' or something akin to that. She's revered as Lady or Goddess Hakufubuki." His explanation hung in the air, a whisper of reverence for the enigmatic deity.

"Goddess Hakufubuki..." Jingliu murmured, her gaze transfixed by the statue's ethereal presence. Moments drifted by in hushed contemplation, Yasushi quietly sharing in her reverence for the snow deity.

Breaking the stillness, Jingliu's voice cut through the silence. "Have you heard of the snow goddess from Chinese folklore?"

Yasushi shook his head, his expression curious yet unknowing. "Not particularly. Chinese mythology is a labyrinth, often veiled in ambiguity or lost to time. Even the vast web offers scant details."

Turning to face him fully, Jingliu's crimson eyes met his, alight with a rare vitality. They held a glint, a shimmer of something deeper. "My name, it's loosely tied to her. Tengliu. She's the snow goddess in Chinese lore, her origins traced back to the Tang dynasty. Over time, she evolved into a prominent cultural figure during the Ming dynasty, blossoming from the roots of the Song dynasty." Her words wove a tale of ancient resonance, bridging the realms of myth and reality.

"Liu is quite common in Chinese names, yes? And 'Jing' carries meanings of quietude or stillness, while 'Yang' signifies poplar or willow," Yasushi remarked casually, observing Jingliu's widening eyes.

"You're aware of that?" Jingliu's voice trembled slightly, a mix of surprise and curiosity.

"Hmm," Yasushi mused, his tone reflective. "I have this odd habit of looking up the meanings behind names, including those of my classmates. It's a strange fascination, I admit. I wonder if our parents chose these names with a purpose, perhaps more practical than symbolic. Yet, I find joy in unraveling these little mysteries."

"…you're such a weirdo," Jingliu teased, a genuine smile breaking through. Her attention shifted as she noticed Yinhaie approaching. "Let's call it a day, Yasushi. Thanks for bearing with me through the rest of our time together after school."

He acknowledged Yinhaie's approach with a nod before returning his attention to Jingliu. "It's been enjoyable. Until tomorrow, then," he bid her farewell.

Jingliu reciprocated the nod and playfully poked Yasushi's side as she passed him, joining Yinhaie who awaited her. Yasushi watched them depart, their figures merging into the distance as they vanished into a waiting car.

A brief pause lingered as Yasushi contemplated the departing vehicle, then he shifted his gaze back to the towering statue. "Goddess, huh?" he muttered to himself, a hint of skepticism mingling with intrigue. "At least I'm certain of the existence of supernatural phenomena, even if their manifestation here is uncertain. After all, I've experienced reincarnation myself..." His voice trailed off into the quiet air, carrying a sense of unresolved curiosity.

With a final glance at the monument, Yasushi turned on his heels and made his way homeward, thoughts swirling in the twilight of the day.

+-+

In the car, Yinhaie guided them homeward while Jingliu sat pensively by her side, her gaze fixed on her lap where a bag of snacks lay forgotten. Her mind, however, was far from the mundane contents of the bag, still lingering on the moments shared with Yasushi before parting ways.

"Is something on your mind, Lady Jingliu?" Yinhaie inquired, stealing a glance at her passenger as they halted at a red light.

Jingliu remained silent for a bit, her focus on the bag before her. Eventually, she spoke, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Do you think my grandmother was right? Or perhaps... things will finally change this time?"

Yinhaie's lips twitched in frustration at the mention of Jingliu's grandparents. "...What transpires next depends on you. Forgive my bluntness, but the words of your grandparents hold little sway. What truly matters is that you find happiness in the end." Her words, though direct, carried a weight of conviction, a reminder that destiny lay within one's own hands.

Jingliu shut her eyes momentarily, her hand reaching for the scarf draped around her neck. She brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply, a soft smile tugging at her lips. 'It smells like his scent,' she mused inwardly, savoring the warmth it brought, a warmth that extended beyond mere fabric.

As she savored the moment, she finally reopened her eyes, gazing out into the passing scenery. "...I don't have all the answers yet, but I'll make an effort once more. Perhaps this time, the outcome won't be... unfavorable," she murmured, her tone tinged with apprehension.

Yinhaie responded, her voice steady and wise. "I believe Yasushi is reliable, though he harbors his own mysteries. For now, focus on nurturing a positive relationship and understanding with Lord Yasushi, Lady Jingliu. Once you and your accompanying staff reach a definitive understanding, then you may proceed." Her words held a hint of guidance, urging patience and strategic planning.

It struck Jingliu as unusual, hearing Yinhaie address someone as "Lord" outside the context of her father or esteemed figures. This detail, subtle yet significant, hinted at Yasushi's standing in Yinhaie's eyes, prompting Jingliu to consider it a prudent course of action.

"Understood. I'll proceed accordingly," Jingliu affirmed as they pulled up to their residence. She wasted no time in settling into her routine — dinner, shower, and finally retiring to her bed.

Throughout these familiar motions, she clung to Yasushi's scarf, finding solace in its presence. She cradled it, her mind lingering on thoughts of him until sleep gently claimed her, his name whispering through her last conscious thoughts.