"I don't think Teacher is coming today…" Jun Li's voice broke the quiet.
They had been waiting for nearly two hours.
The sparring grounds, once vast and imposing, now felt… still.
The three of them sat atop the carved sigil at the center, idly passing time with half-hearted stories that had long since lost their charm.
Jun Li's lips were slightly pursed, caught between worry and impatience.
Ningyan exhaled softly and pushed himself to his feet.
"Perhaps we should head back," he said, brushing invisible dust from his robes.
Jun Li stood as well, clearly tempted.
But Jun Sheng didn't move.
"We can wait a little longer," he insisted, frowning. "Teacher has never been late. Not once."
Ningyan glanced up.
The sky had darkened considerably.
Heavy clouds churned above, thick and low, as if the heavens themselves were holding their breath.
Rain was coming soon.
He looked back at Jun Li.
She sighed, then turned to her brother.
