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Author's note: Set of drabbles that I've been working on for a long time. Hei and Yin are by far my favorite couple… and I hope it shows.

Rating: Story contains profanity, no explicit sexual content.

Hei and Yin are on the run from the syndicate. Sometimes there's times to relax, with a hot cup of coffee on a rainy day, and other times they can't trust anyone but each other. A set of drabbles about daily life, action, and love. Volume 1.

There is nothing you can do.
"Just lay low... I'll be seeing you," Mao said, and with a whisk of his tail, he slipped into the darkness of the alleyway. The rain plopped down onto the muddy puddles of water. Hei briskly stepped through sloshing water in anger, frustration breaking his covert passage to the street. A nearby pedestrian easily would have been able to hear his infuriated seething.
Nothing. There was nothing for him.
What did that word mean when he had the whole world around him? There was more than nothing at hand. He could easily slaughter each and every one of the tired and sad people on the sidewalk and make sure that they would never be able to fumble back home to their families. The torrent of black water that fell from overhead made the unlucky nightcrawlers trip faster as they rushed through the sludge. Temporary blindness battled the glaring car lights. How could there be nothing when the rain fell and the orange and red lights danced so surely on the dark pools?
And yet there was nothing for Hei. He no longer cared.
The cold threads slipped down his scalp and trickled their way down his back. His slick coat did nothing to block out how desolately cold he felt inside, how bitter the pitted feeling of despair was.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the presence of Yin's outsourced spirit wafting from a nearby gutter. He paid her no mind; a haggard anger was still coiling in the pit of his stomach. Where could he possibly go? How would he get back to the only emblem of the future that could force him to go forward?
An empty space was all that lay before him, and he could do nothing to prevent it.

He walked in an absent-minded daze that showed him an empty road with empty souls. A small corner of his mind told him that he didn't want it to be filled. A small part of himself was similar to Yin. Was she more than what he could hope for her to be? No. She was an empty soul, just like the rest of them, and he didn't wish to hurt anymore by betting on it. She was like him, partly empty, partly full of lies. The dark haired man walked until he felt his limbs drag along on the concrete. He entered an alleyway and entered an open door to the side. It was the back entrance of some grimy takeout restaurant. The rain from his jacket dripped loudly on the dirty linoleum. He switched into his normal clothing, which were soaking nevertheless, and trudged back out into the black rain.

His skin was soaking wet and his hair was stuck to the nape of his neck. His legs were caught in an automatic rhythm of motion as he put one foot in front of the other. He stared at his shoes, the beaten leather, drenched in water and ruined forever. He would have to get new ones. Such an average and day-to-day thought made him chuckle. He was worried about his shoes. This absolutely inane thought to have was passing through his mind when he should have been concerned with the sky, the secrets of the missing stars, the present stars, and the ones in between. He looked up and saw Yin, eyes downcast, with a single umbrella. She silently moved closer and offered it to him, getting herself poured on by the unmerciful rain. Hei took it and covered both of them, and they walked slowly to the apartments, both sharing the same empty husks, craving for the same things.

****
The stove hissed in angry huffs as the boiling water bubbled. Hei juggled the spoon and the hot lid, attempting to do several things at once. The water simmered down to a manageable simmer as he threw in the eggs. The pan beside him spat up hot oil as he attempted to stir in leafy vegetables and garlic.
"Shit," he said, trying to handle the mess that he had created. He was wearing a checkered apron with his sleeves rolled up. Wearing slippers and a watch, and he felt strangely and uncomfortably human. More human than he had in years. He plated the eggs and the greens and gently slid them onto the small table. He had made a large amount of food, with a portion for Yin, as usual. She had always eaten very little, if at all. "Yin, I'm done." He called, and seconds later, she arrived in a pair of pink ducky pajamas. He reminded himself to wash out her clothes so that she'd be able to wear something else, even if they were really cute. She had a faraway look in her eyes, less concentrated than usual- She had been eavesdropping with her medium again, he could tell.
"They don't trust us right now." He said, quietly sitting down, a fork in hand. Yin was silent. Hei was working on his fourth dish when Yin said,
"Then why don't we run?"
"Do you want to run?" He asked, curious.
"I don't know." She said, quiet once more settling at the table. Hei stacked his empty dishes into the corner of the table as they listened to the patter of rain around them. The beads of moisture whipped across the apartment windows and the sliding door to the veranda.

It was raining, again. Hei threw his coat over Yin's head as they both slogged through the puddled asphalt to the buzzing neon sign of a motel. He pushed open the glass door to a chilly air-conditioned lounge, the grimy, dirty floor now even more drenched from their water-clogged clothes. Yin shivered slightly and Hei pulled her close, feeling her arm against his ribs. A tired man was sitting at the counter.
"Looking for a room?"
"Yes."
The beady-eyed man glanced at Yin.
"Awful night out, huh?" Yin didn't respond, her face sullen and cold.
"Yeah, it is." Hei added, adding a chuckle for authenticity sake. "G'night then. Be safe," the man said gruffly, handing over a room key and returning his attention to a piece of newspaper.
Hei held up a hand in salutation and exited back out into the rain. They yanked open the door to Room 119 and shut out the damp wet of the rain. He quickly searched the room for bugs or cameras of any sort and after deeming it safe, he pushed Yin towards the bathroom.
"Take off your clothes and take a shower."
"What about yours?"
"I'll be fine. Take yours first." He sat by the desk and placed a few choice knives on it, turning on the lamp to take out a map that he had brought along. They were in an undisclosed location in such a way that they had a bit of breathing room now, but he still felt uncomfortable, as if each motel were waiting for him to show up. It was just paranoia, but it felt odd to him, as if he were missing something and it was more than just that. He pushed the feeling away as he heard the shower hiss as it turned on, the sound of her sloshing around in the shower comforting, even though they were miles and miles away from home, his hair cropped short to a buzz cut, shades resting uncomfortably on the bridge of his nose and darkening the already musty and grey motel room. Hei threw off his shades after he realized he was still wearing them.
An uneven banging came from the other side of the wall, clear as day, a muffled voice angry about the rattle of the water pipes. Immediately, Yin stopped her shower short, the plodding of her feet out of the shower and into the hotel room nearly silent, a towel wrapped austerely around herself.
"You didn't have to do that, the asshole will shut up eventually."
A muffled shout from the other side disagreed with him.
"It's fine, I'm not cold." She said, reflecting that she knew the cost of someone knocking on their door and initiating confrontation. They'd lose their cover, and Hei would probably stuff his corpse into a supply closet upstairs. She got under the duvet of her twin bed and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. Her short, shoulder length hair was wet and loosely fanned over the thin pillow.

Hei took his shower without regard for the angry neighbor and laid down on the other twin bed, petting his own closely shaven head, reveling in how he also in a sense liked this travel. He hated the paranoia but he liked the down times. The creaky narrow mattresses, the scent of how Yin pretended to be "asleep" when he brooded alone, the constant changes in his and her appearance.

He was in the middle of undoing the laces when she stopped him: "When are you going to get new shoes?" He turned and stared. He heard her, but was just surprised that she was concerned at all.
"You said you needed new shoes."
"I did?"
"Yes." He supposed that he must have muttered it to himself at one point.

The poor laces were becoming tattered, the sole wearing down inside to the point that he could almost feel the gravel beneath his soles as he walked.
"Then I suppose now's a good time." He stood again, turning to leave.
"Okay." Yin put on her shoes, fully intending to follow.

The shoe store was brightly lit, the smell of pleather, leather, and glue strong on the nose. He walked directly into the men's boots section, knowing which pair he'd buy. The exact same pair he'd bought several years ago. To his surprise, they weren't there. He was now at a loss, looking through the boxes like a madman, turning over shoes that weren't even in his size. Yin calmly placed her palm over each and every boot, the textures beneath her fingers letting her see distinctly the shape and smell that the shoe would have. She stopped at a bulky set of hiking boots in a dark black color. The heel was rubber but sturdy, the material pliant but thick enough to withstand weather and blood. She took it from the shelf and lightly touched Hei on the shoulder.
"Here." She said, laying the box on top of his thigh.
"Oh. It's nice." She nodded. He noticed that she had touched him. She didn't need to since he was constantly focused on her and her movements from the corner of his eye, but she still did it. Her fingertips lingered, as if she wanted to sense through the fabric of his flannel shirt, read him as she read the surroundings, emerge through him a medium that would tell her all of his unreadable secrets. Or maybe, just a touch.
He put on the shoes and they stood there as he looked at full length mirror, her tiny figure right behind him. He looked tired. He wondered if she was able to sense that in him. She was unable to gaze out and see him wearing those shoes but she again touched him, the small of his back. He took it as an indication that they looked good.

They dashed through the back door of the large mall, one of those all too common suburban establishments that were commonly abandoned for the inner city department stores. They popped out of the bathroom hallway and into a mildly populated food court, the smell of fried bourbon chicken and deep fried foods tantalizing, even in the rush of adrenaline. They walked casually through the food court and down the escalator, his back turned upwards to watch for the Syndicate. Two men ran out onto the side, looking down to see where the two had had found them a few miles back, and chased them to this location. They thought it was a dead end, but Hei and Yin were in facade paradise, a place where capitalism could hide their every secret.

Yin fell forward into a hug on Hei, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. He embraced her, unmoving as he watched in his periphery as the two men ran off to search the top floor. She smelled of lilac. She removed herself and held to the crook of his elbow. They walked like a young couple, a practiced act, where he whispered into her hair and people watched, the knowing smiles of the middle aged women putting the sparse crowd as ease. They went down to the bottom floor and walked past the windows of clothes, displaying mannequins several decades behind the modern fashion, a store that sold only candles, a loud shoe store that was too dark to see any shoes on display. He described each one to her, a quip out of habit, a terse scoff here and there. Then she suddenly stopped as they approached a loud whirring boba shop, the small drink shop isolated from the rest of the cafeteria, a burnt out employee shaking a drink back and forth before handing the neon orange cup to the customer with an oversized straw.

"We should get one." She said quietly. He raised his eyebrows. Of course. Some water so she could send her medium out over the men. Before he could approach the burnt out employee and say anything, he heard her whisper,
"Red bean, please." He stopped mid step out of surprise.

"Of course." He said, his words not reflecting what he thought at all.

"Two red bean milk teas please, with pearls." He said. He figured he might as well have one too.
Since when did she like milk tea? Since when did she like specifically like red bean flavored things? It was a mystery. They watched as she whirred away the red bean powder into the liquid, stirring, then shaking their two concocted drinks, handing them two oversized straws, one purple, one pink. Yin took one and swiftly punctured the lid perfectly and sipped, her face perhaps emotionless, perhaps content, he couldn't tell. They sipped their drinks and nonchalantly walked out the back door of the first floor, Hei chewing the last of the tapioca pearls as he broke into the next convenient car in the parking lot. What an eventful, and ever so not eventful day.

Hei cranked back his seat and propped his feet up on the leather dashboard. He leaned over and helped Yin to push her seat back, her skin looking soft in the sunset. They had driven out into the desert, a dozen water bottles in the drunk and a duffle bag full of clothes and a few wigs. Hei snapped on the pair of shades from the glove compartment. Inside were a couple insurance papers, a map or two, some wrappers and trash from the previous owner. The outside sand matched the arid texture of the air inside the car, stuffy and hot. He let down the windows, the sound of angry cicadas overpowering the soft country music from the radio. A few seconds and the sun started to peek over the distant mountain. Hei took off the shades and pushed them onto Yin's face, just to see how she'd look with the sand and rugged terrain in the background. She turned to face him, confused by his intention. He was usually efficient, and didn't do frivolous things for aesthetic. He felt himself blush.
"Sorry," Hei said.

"It's fine." Yin adjusted the shades, looking quite like a weekender, ready for spring break on the beach with her hair up. "They suit you." Hei said, brushing a lock of her hair back behind her ear.
"They do?" She trusted his word and her question felt more like a statement. Hei felt a smile on his face. It'd been a while since they could talk normally, without having to pretend like they were something different, more or less than what they really were. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, the sun behind his eyelids becoming fainter and fainter, until the coldness of night began to drift in through the open window. He cranked the window back up and turned over on his side. Yin pulled his legs down from the dash and into her lap. "You don't have to do that." Hei said quietly. Yin gave him a small smile and closed her eyes. He tossed his dark coat over her small frame, quietly hoping he could watch her sleep until the numerous stars peeped over the mountains.

Instead of people, technology was chasing them this time. Now would have been the best time to have kept to themselves, but unfortunately they'd met their neighbors, and they were incredibly nosy. Hei responded in fluid french that he was ill and stayed in the house most days, unable to get out. The neighbor seemed unconcerned about him, considering how healthy and fit he seemed under his coat, and more concerned about Yin. A small doll, the man had said, as if it was a compliment. Yin stepped up the stairs emotionless, and they hurried into their small Parisian apartment.
"That conversation was exhausting," He muttered, collapsing onto the wooden floor, letting his head rest on the futon. Yin sat behind him and had a small yawn. He changed into a comfortable set of clothes and began sharpening his knives, his adrenaline picking up while thinking about how difficult it would be to take the TGV across the country without being recorded on the countless recording devices every step of the way. Another option would be to take a car, as he had done before. But with the new recording devices at stoplights, he would easily be fucked over. The European division of the syndicate was more likely to ambush than to give chase. He was stressed every moment of the day while in the apartment, constantly peering outside to surveil the neighboring buildings and rooftops.

He put away his knives and sharpening tools and laid down on the hard wood floor. Before he knew it, he'd drifted off to sleep. A few hours later, he groggily awoke to find a blanket spread over him, with Yin's hand close to his face. He touched her fingertips; they were damp from water and wrinkled. She'd been surveilling the area up until she fell asleep. He felt a pull in his gut, and he got up properly to lie down beside her on the spread out futon. The room was cold, the radiator weakly ticking away in the corner. He cradled her with his body and wondered how long they could go on like this. As much as he liked to escape, the undue stress Yin probably felt when the future was unclear and they were fleeing like rats threw him into turmoil. He stressed to himself that he'd try harder, and fell asleep once more.

A knock on the door made Hei wake with a startle. He grimaced and jumped to his feet, quickly shoving his knives into his back pocket and pressed himself against the wall. "Who is it?"
It was the neighbor, of course. They should have gotten out early. Yin sat up quickly as well.
He quickly said in french that he was feeling poorly and wouldn't open the door. He shuffled away after wishing him health, too quick to give up. He listened intently as the person walked away and opened their door and shut it again. But in their room, he heard no footsteps walking about. They must have been waiting in the hallway.

Alerted, Hei quickly indicated to Yin to make a quick exit. He pointed out the window and stuffed his things into his coat, changing quickly. Yin was still dressed from yesterday but was ready to go with her shoes on. He cranked open the window and looked out. They hadn't yet replaced the CCTV he'd knocked out the day before. He helped Yin onto the small balcony and looped his arm around her waist. Soon they zipped over the streets and onto the Parisian rooftops.

He didn't think the syndicate would be so quick to find their location. His having destroyed CCTVs in several locations probably tipped them off. Drops of rain began to pelt down on them, dragging their speed. He had propelled them across town, and was now exhausted from dodging the visible recorders. Yin squeezed his arm. "We should rest." Hei pulled them down from the roof and into the streets. Not many were wandering around in the rain. They dodged into a small cafe and apologized to the owner for their soaked clothes. He threw them some towels and they sat near the back of the cafe, away from the windows. He ordered two coffees and petit dejeuner, deux fois. They sat down, weary. Yin looked tired, her hair stuck to the nape of her neck. He tried to dry her hair, her loose hair seeming to pull out in strands more, perhaps from stress.

"I'm sorry." Hei said softly.

She shook her head to indicate that an apology wasn't needed.

His arms were sore and he could barely lift his coffee without trembling, the hot liquid splashing onto his saucer. He softly cursed and set it back down. "We should get going again. It's too risky here. I had this planned out, but it's moving a bit too fast for my taste. I think we should take the TGV to Italy, take a freight ship over to Morocco," he was writing the actual places they'd go into Yin's palm with his finger. TGV Berl- Backtrack Amst - Ship Eng. Yin folded her hands over his and caught him.

"It's going to be okay." His heart slowed down and he squeezed her hands lightly. The owner set down their order.

"You're right." He spread jam onto his buttered bread, and downed the small glass of orange juice. He finished his warm croissant and helped himself to the croissant that Yin offered to him. Feeling still hungry, but much more calm, his breath slowed and he heard the sounds Yin made as she scraped the jam onto her own bread, the soft crunch and chewing as she ate, and the slight swallows in her neck as she drank her coffee. He wondered how much she knew of her power over him. Her small delicate hands could command him to do anything and he'd do it without a moment's hesitation. Firmly and resolutely, he had long before resolved he would follow her to his own death, if that is what she wished.