And it is Gusu Lan, just outside the main secured entrance where Sizhui had last been with Wen Ning, preparing for their trip together. He remembers it clear as day, readying to leave after his elders seeing him off, and then— well, nothing? Since that's when he imagines he'd fallen unconscious from silly train shenanigans. Nothing but fog, distorted colors, indistinguishable voices ringing wordlessly in his ears.
He'd grown tired of waiting to return, exhausted with standing about and, following soft, unhappy muttering to himself, decided instead to sit and meditate; it's more difficult at particular points, but he eventually finds some steadiness long enough to continue waiting.
Someone will come. They have to, right? The Voidtrecker Express surely won't abandon them inside these twisted, unstable in-between worlds.
‘Sizhui.’ The sound of his name, easy and familiar, draws his attention upward, eyes widening once he realizes it's someone he knows. Sizhui's instantly on his feet then, scurrying toward Wei Wuxian, one hand stretching out toward him, reaching to maybe grasp his shirtfront or an arm, except he comes up short, hesitating like he might put his hand straight through the man before him. A rough, mirthless laugh follows Wei Wuxian's comment, although Sizhui can't quite feign amusement in his expression, looking far too apprehensive for his humorless laughter. “You could say that, but regardless, it doesn't matter when it's clear none of this could last.”
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He'd grown tired of waiting to return, exhausted with standing about and, following soft, unhappy muttering to himself, decided instead to sit and meditate; it's more difficult at particular points, but he eventually finds some steadiness long enough to continue waiting.
Someone will come. They have to, right? The Voidtrecker Express surely won't abandon them inside these twisted, unstable in-between worlds.
‘Sizhui.’ The sound of his name, easy and familiar, draws his attention upward, eyes widening once he realizes it's someone he knows. Sizhui's instantly on his feet then, scurrying toward Wei Wuxian, one hand stretching out toward him, reaching to maybe grasp his shirtfront or an arm, except he comes up short, hesitating like he might put his hand straight through the man before him. A rough, mirthless laugh follows Wei Wuxian's comment, although Sizhui can't quite feign amusement in his expression, looking far too apprehensive for his humorless laughter. “You could say that, but regardless, it doesn't matter when it's clear none of this could last.”