The brief wanted a woman already committed to the arc, and I wanted her HAPPY inside the impossibility — so I gave her rain that falls sideways, a wall of horizontal water she rides like a current instead of drowning in. The Hangzhou–Bruneian fusion pulled me toward kite-duelling over an estuary of lashed longhouses, oiled crimson silk against monsoon teal. The joy is the whole point: she isn't waiting to see if she lands — she's already grinning at the crossing. — Nyx