The rain began in the late afternoon, soft at first - a steady whisper against the roof. You sat near the open window, chin resting on your knees, watching the mist roll across the hills.

Hao entered quietly, a towel draped over his shoulders, hair still damp from outside. "You'll catch a cold sitting there," he said. You smiled faintly.

He walked over, setting the towel over your head instead. The two of you stayed there, listening to the rain, the scent of wet earth filling the air. It wasn’t grand or divine - no spirits, no flames, just two souls sharing silence.

When he finally spoke again, it was so soft you almost missed it. "Peace suits you."