Resonance

“You know, if you wiggle your bait, fish are more likely to flock on it.”

Ningguang turns her head slightly towards the source of the voice.  She arches a brow, unsure of the statement’s truth but certain of the credibility – or, more accurately, the lack thereof – of the speaker.  She doesn’t do as she’s told.

It irks her that she can’t see Beidou’s face (the latter is seated slightly in front of her) and confirm that she is being played.  So Ningguang refocuses, looks back once more to the eerily still water.  Why did she decide to come here again?  A question she apparently shares with the Captain.

“I’m surprised you agreed to go here.  Got tired of your kind of fishing?”

Ningguang chooses not to dignify that with the wanted response.  Still, she provides an answer of sorts.  “On those very rare occasions, you two always agreed to meet here.  And on the times that I saw her right after your meeting, she always, without fail, looked… rested.”  A thoughtful look crosses the Tianquan’s face before she continues.  “You could say I got curious as to why.”

Beidou merely shrugs.  “Fishing can be relaxing.”

“It appears so… for some people, at least.”  Ningguang responds.  She gives a light tug on the rod, contemplating pulling it out and casting her line again.  She opts to sate her curiosity instead.

“I also can’t help but wonder why you also always, without fail, never catch anything.  It’s especially surprising, given your occupation and the number of times you’ve gone here, accompanied or otherwise.”

The ship captain turns to look at her companion then, a hint of offence registrable from her voice when she asserts, “This isn’t what I do out at sea, you know?”

“Oh?  I had thought this was how you brought food to your table.  Apologies, then,” is the snide response.  If she can’t do this godawful activity right, Ningguang might as well draw amusement from the outing itself instead.

“Har dee har har.  So very hilarious, milady.” Beidou counters, not bothering to veil her slight irritation.

Ningguang, on the other hand, is doing her level best not to show too much smugness in her smile.  She fails; it’s Beidou with her, appraising her, after all.

The Captain barely stops herself from huffing.  She grasps onto the last strands of patience left in her.  It proves enough to keep her steady as she thinks of how to flip the board back in her favor.

She decides to go for broke and counter with Ningguang’s most hated type of question: a personal one, which would either rile the stoic woman up and give Beidou the upper hand, or rile the stoic, gem-hurling woman up so much and give Beidou another thing apart from the upper hand.

See, it’s a point of pride for Ningguang: her unrivaled discretion.  And she applies this in the fullest force when it comes to her relationships.

Despite all that, along with the consequent knowledge of not really gaining an answer, Beidou shoulders on with her plan to one-up Ningguang.  “So,” she starts after having cleared her throat, “how’s the Yuheng?  Anything interesting come up?”

A barely perceptible motion to compose herself is made by the Tianquan.  But Beidou’s prognoses are regrettably dashed, as the former replies evenly with, “You mean with the Vanguard?  I’m sure if she has anything, you’ll be the one she informs, not me.”

Ningguang revels silently in her handling of the curveball thrown by the Captain by pitching one of her own.  The Tianquan is fully aware of how passionately Beidou feels against her new role-title.

As expected, Beidou grimaces at the utterance of what she currently considers to be the bane of her existence.  “Gods, you really have such a hard-on for that, don’t you?  And what is up with that name anyway?  Whose ass did you pull it out of?”  She then grimaces some more for her failure to take the point advantage from the Tianquan.

Ningguang smothers the smirk threatening to bloom on her face.  “If you wish to be called something else, it’s most certainly up to you.  After all, the Vanguard is your and Keqing’s business… as per our agreement,” she instead remarks with feigned disinterest, blatantly placing her attention back on the waters.

Beidou does the opposite and turns fully to face the Tianquan, completely abandoning the very activity the two went there for.  “Ah, yes, our agreement,” she repeats wryly.  “Tell me, did you draw that up before or after planting the idea of going to meet the Yuheng in my head?”

This time, the Captain is sure she didn’t imagine seeing a smirk – that particular smirk – flash on unreadable face.  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” is the coy response from the other woman who has followed her companion’s desertion of activity.

Beidou gives Ningguang an exasperated look.  “Oh, spare me, Ning,” she spews out.  She levels the Qixing with a sharp gaze before continuing.  “It involves me, so you could at least tell me tha-”

But the sound of leaves crunching under footfalls stops her and catches the two’s attention.  They turn to where it’s coming from, appearing unfazed but definitely braced.

“Apologies for the interruption,” a woman’s voice then announces, “but I’m afraid duty calls.”  Its familiarity prompts them to drop their guards.

More than that, the Tianquan’s ears perk up.  She seizes the opportune disruption to escape the topic Beidou has set for them earlier.  She drops her fishing rod and rushes towards the newcomer.  She abruptly stops when she’s but a few feet away from them, who are clad in their usual shades of amethyst.

“We didn’t catch anything,” Ningguang tells the approaching Keqing, pout unmistakable even just from her voice.

The shorter woman gulps.  She looks to Beidou, who has busied herself with the fishing rods, coincidentally, at the time the statement is made.

‘That damn woman.’  Keqing curses in her head, quickly noticing the trap set for her.

But then, in a flash of brilliance, the Yuheng smiles to herself.  She cups Ningguang’s cheek, brushing her thumb on smooth, porcelain skin to soothe the latter.  “Perhaps on your next trip with the Captain,” she reassures.

When she looks back at Beidou, Keqing sees the latter boring a hole in her skull with her good eye.  The Yuheng smirks, before turning her sights back to Ningguang.  “You should head on first.  Ganyu’s waiting for you out front.  I’ll help the Captain with your things.”

“You’re a sweetheart,” the white-haired woman says before leaning in for a peck on the lips.  She gives one to Beidou, as well, before going on ahead of the two.

Keqing grins smugly as she proceeds towards where the still glaring Beidou is.  It, however, doesn’t escape the smaller woman to ready herself for a more “engaged” revenge response from the Captain.  In the end, she just gets a thundering lambasting.

“Dammit Yuheng!  Why couldn’t you have just told her?”

“Me!?  Oh no, this is your mess.  You tell her there’s no fish in those waters.”  Keqing fires back, eyes meeting Beidou’s head on.  The two glare at each other, heads almost butting.

It’s a few more seconds of static stand-off before Beidou relents, groaning.  “Dammit!  I was sure I had it there,” she exclaims, walking on to where Ningguang headed.

Keqing bites her tongue to keep herself from agreeing.  “Tough luck,” she says instead, as she follows the Captain out.

Beidou makes some sort of irritated growl.  She kicks petulantly at a leaf that her eye falls on.  “Now I gotta come up with another plan.”

Keqing’s brows furrow at the declaration, confused by the level of complication the Captain is needlessly investing in this matter.  But, then again, this is Beidou; if there’s one other thing you can trust her with, it’s being maddeningly… inspired in her thoughts and actions.  So, Keqing instead curiously inquires, “Why have you never told her?”

Beidou shrugs.  “Wanted to see how long it would take her to figure out.  Turns out it’s a matter of ‘if.’”

“And now you’re in too deep and way too afraid to tell her you just come here for peace and quiet.”

“Two for two.  You’re on a roll today, Yuheng.”

“Unlike you.”

The Captain scowls, lone eye expressive of something way more than being unamused.  “You’re spending too much time with her, Yuheng.  She’s rubbing off on you in more ways than one.”

“Funny.  She said the same thing about you last night – well, except the ‘in more ways than one’ bit, obviously.”

“I’m sure she did.”  Beidou remarks dully, eyeing a nearby tree.  She reaches a hand up to pick a sunsettia from it.  She takes a bite, turns back, and tosses the fruit to her companion.  “And you?  What do you think?” she then asks.

Keqing catches the food easily.  She partakes on it before answering.  “I think you should tell her about this place,” she replies flatly.

…which makes the sudden turn in her expression – the creeping upturn of her lips into a diabolical grin – all the more unnerving prominent.  “That should make for an interesting pillow talk, don’t you think?”

The Yuheng, having caught up to the stunned Crux Captain, hands the sunsettia back to the latter, whose wide eye is looking at the former with a surprised-then-terrified concern.  The smaller woman, grin intact, then places a hand on the taller one’s shoulder as she passes her.

Beidou blinks, still rooted in place.

‘Gods, we’ve created a monster.’