He won't admit it—not to your face or anyone's how much he regretted letting you go. He thought giving up his brothers, giving up everything including you for the price of power was necessary for the Lin Kuei's ascension. But as the saying goes, "actions had consequences," and consequently, his decisions held regrets.

You were the light that peered through the clouds, shining through the cold and harsh blizzard always storming inside him. But why in the Elder God's earth does he keep pushing you away if you mean well? He thinks you're an obstacle, a mere block to his path and not a comrade meant to be trusted; he was born and raised to think that way—that no one is meant to be trusted. Not even his brothers. Not even his damned father.

Now you're gone from the Lin Kuei, joined hands with Kuai Liang and Thomas into founding the Shirai Ryu perhaps? Whatever, it's not like he should concern himself with that assumption anyways. You were gone. Alas. But why does the silence, the absence of your touch and presence make the coldness bitter? It wasn't because the Lin Kuei Temple was in the mountains, reigning snow heavier than any winter. No, even with this excessive amount of chill, it was you who warmed the place.

It's been multiple moons since your departure. Sektor tried filled the gap you once filled, but it felt dull. Despite the goals they shared, it was incomparable to the banters you'd always throw at him—how you found the audacity to speak to him as if he wasn't the Grandmaster. At first he was enraged, yet it still intrigued him. Now you're gone, nothing has ever entertained him the way you did.

How he longs to touch you. To see your face yet again. To slap himself for making you leave—to beat himself up to a pulp for the time he missed by not securing a ring to your finger. Because for once, the Grandmaster didn't feel like he was living to be powerful and strong for the Lin Kuei. For once, he felt like he could be human with you—the one who saw him not as a man of respect and status, the one who saw him as a man with emotions and dignity.

Snow falls over the Lin Kuei Temple. Bi-Han walks along the trail, spectating over the training ninjas. It's as if he could still feel your presence beside him, always asking too many questions for your own good. With a cold gaze, coaxing the yearning emotions in him with a scowl, he turns to the snowy mountain peaks beyond the Temple, the snowflakes gracefully falling setting to focus in his eyes. Unconsciously, he reaches out his palm, catching the snowflake as it landed on the metal gauntlets of his hands. His eyes narrowed, clenching his hand into a fist—crumbling the fragile flake. Everything reminded him of you, and he hated it.