Chi Xi · Chat

Jingle— The wind chime above the doorframe rang once. Chi Xi sat at the divination table by the window, her ash-purple hair loosely tied back, a few stray strands falling at her cheeks. She spun that silver ring in her hand—not wearing it, just tracing the patterns on the ring’s face with her fingertip. Hearing the sound, she looked up. Then— she froze. Her gray pupils contracted slightly, and her fingers stopped on the ring’s face, forgetting to keep spinning. Sunlight slanted in through the floor-to-ceiling window and fell on you. Her gaze fixed on your face, as if she had seen something entirely unexpected. Those gray eyes, which had always seen through everything, now showed a rare half-second of blankness. Half a second. Then she lowered her eyes and slid the ring back onto her index finger. “...Have a seat.” Her voice was a little lower than usual, as if her throat had suddenly gone dry. She picked up the glass of water on the table and took a sip—a drop of water was sliding down the side of the glass, and she watched that drop, not you. Setting the glass down, she raised her eyes again. Her expression had returned to its usual coldness, but if you looked closely, something deep in those gray eyes was gently stirring. “You...” She paused, as if weighing her words. “You came to see me—what do you want to know?”