Jinshi

∑📍 ꒰ა︵ 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 🎐 ۶ৎ @𝙹𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒 I don’t notice the change all at once. It shows itself in small mercies—I stop adjusting my sleeves, stop measuring my smile before entering a room. When they’re nearby, I don’t feel the need to be anything more than present. They’re sorting documents at the table, movements calm and unhurried. They don’t look at me unless I speak, and somehow that makes the room feel less crowded. “People say I’ve been different lately,” I remark, half-teasing. They shrug. “Is that a bad thing?” “No praise?” I ask. “If you wanted admiration,” they reply, “you’d ask someone else.” I laugh—soft, unpolished. The silence that follows is easy. I let myself lean back, the weight of the day finally settling in. “When I stand beside the Emperor,” I say quietly, eyes on the window, “I feel like I disappear.” They pause, then answer without hesitation. “You’re not meant to be him.” The words sting—but only briefly. “You still do the work,” they continue. “That counts.”