Includes: Kujou Sara x f!reader (romantic)
Warnings: Genshin Impact AU; death, the reader is gravely ill, a vaguely connected text, bad ending, non-canon is possible
A/n: I really apologize for that, English is not my first language and I tried very hard to write it right.
Sara remembers years ago you held her hand in the rain, frantically fighting off slimes with a branch. They were harmless in principle and at first they weren't even going to attack, but you thought your friend, you recently met in the woods, was in danger, so you rushed to protect her. Your face was so tense and at the same time twisted with fear, and you were also squeezing Sara's palm so hard that the inside had shallow half-moon wounds from your nails; you were a weak and ill child, but a brave one. It even occurred to Sara that if she could, she‘d have thrown herself into making sure that you were no longer afraid. A tengu-child with an unbridled flame in her heart. A very strong flame.
"Don't worry about anything else now. You're home," you said when, both dirty and tired, you finally arrived at the Kujou clan's house. "I'm sure father won't mind."
You didn't want to hear a single protest. Sara had managed to convince you before that being in the woods wasn’t at all difficult and it even was very comfortable for her, but now that was out of the question. You even said you couldn't sleep, knowing that your dear friend was all alone and surrounded by horrible monsters in the middle of a gloomy forest, so Sara had no choice but to submit to your determination. She could not understand it then and neither could you, but the fact was that, being, as liyue puts it, “a noble golden branch with jasper leaves”, you had no friends except your brothers, so a true friend was instantly the most precious thing in your childish mind.
When the guards at the door of the manor announced your return with undisguised relief, the servants swarmed over. Sarah now knew that they were not so much worried about your (temporary) disappearance as about the possibility that your condition might worsen.
"Oh almighty Shogun, young mistress, how could you leave the estate so far away?"
"It's past midnight. You could have died!"
"No," you only smiled, as if nothing had happened. "Sara was with me, she saved my life."
Well, you were rather trying to save her life, which wasn't necessary, and Sara was about to say so, but she caught your gaze. It said, "Don't." She stayed silent.
Several of the servants approached her from two sides, and you asked them to find a healer; you seemed genuinely more worried about Sara's injuries than about your own well-being which left much to be desired. Your gentle smile, which you tried to reassure the servants, didn’t last even five seconds, shattering in a sudden attack of coughing, but in Sara's memory it lived on to this day, and she would rather have chosen death than the prospect of forgetting it. Unfortunately, events made it easier and easier every day, because now, a dozen years later, for you it was much harder to smile.
It made it hard to visit you, too. Sara did it daily, as if afraid that if she missed even one evening, you would be gone forever in the morning, leaving her alone in grief and regret, but the way your cheeks were sunken and your body was gaunt and your skin was translucent caused so much pain... You were youthful and perfectly beautiful, admiring the autumn garden when sitting on an engawa, but she doubted that you would remember the landscape if you looked away.
"Sister," came your quiet voice, blending irrevocably with the rustle of the maple trees outside the window, "how are you feeling? I heard the training was hard..."
"Nothing I couldn't handle."
Lies. Sara just hated the idea of telling you that she was having a hard time, because you would no doubt be worried. It would have been bad for you, and Sara didn't know how much worse it could be. She would have preferred never to worry you at all.
"I heard a rumor," you continued in a detached voice, "that father was angry at you. I asked but... He didn't answer. Why..?"
"It was my fault. I'll make up for all the mistakes, you don't have to think about it."
Sara flinched. You haven't raised your voice in a long time, much less done something as abrupt as a backward turn toward her and an emotional look. The cold of autumn had made you particularly unhealthy year after year, so expecting a flash of anger or anything at all seemed a little too bold to Sara.
Although, she thought, it might mean you had a chance, and now she allowed herself to hope again. Just a little bit.
"Y/N, we should go back inside. You might get cold and..."
"Please don't use the servants' words," you asked again, lowering your head in an unexpressive, low voice; the temperature breathed heat into your face, making the landscape blend into one oily picture. "You're my sister and you don't have to carry me. I'm already grateful that you came."
If Sara’d say something right now, you would have taken a step back yourself and you probably do it right now, just in case.
She wasn’t offended that you kept forgetting her name. Nor was she offended when she discovered a few years ago that you were happy to think of her as a sister, though, of course, Sara herself would have wanted you to see her as... different person. But she was silent – her foster father's eyes said, "Don't you dare". Her words took up so little space that there was no point in even asking: everyone understood everything for themselves, and whether their judgment was right or wrong was irrelevant. Sara usually relied on feelings rather than words, and if she did speak, she ordered or acknowledged her gratitude to the head of the clan. And you were loved in the country – she felt that, too, by the way. Loved and known, and so she could look at the world without trying to do it for you – to smooth over all the sharp corners, to show Inadzuma in the best way for you; you knew everything anyway. Even when you were sick, you had ears everywhere.
"Are you tired?" your unexpectedly affectionate question and pat on the knees snapped her out of her thoughts. "Do you want to sleep? I'm still going to sit here."
"I'd better not. If I fall asleep, I won't be able to..." – go.
But she didn't dare say that either. Something in the expression of your eyes, the tone of your voice, your whole figure silenced her: it was her habit to wait for your sign, your words, your gestures, your smile. Sara wanted you to smile.
When Sara was promoted to army general, it became harder to visit you. There was no time, new responsibilities were weighing on her shoulders, and you missed your day of majority; it was killing her. In the rare free hours Sara would come – her face serene but her heart beating too hard – and you were so glad, but when she said goodbye half an hour later, you smiled a little sadly. And you didn't say a single word back. You just smiled. So Sara had to literally force herself to forget about you, not to disturb, not to break the fragile silence between the past and the future, not to break something in the most important thing in her life. She’d came back the day you fell asleep; when you woke up, there was no one beside you. The silence became the great privilege of your inner world – for more than an hour it wasn’t broken even at the daylight. The rest of the time, Sara worked, worked, worked...
Once you asked to watch herself more and take care of her own health, but if Sara stop working than thoughts of you would came back with silly, irrational feelings that were deeply wrong. If no one was around, Sara would lean into you, kiss your forehead chastely, and pretend it meant nothing. But it meant a lot. It meant that you were there, you were breathing. For Sara, it was the biggest responsibility.
But she wanted to kiss you in a different way. She longed to let you know that she liked you for a reason, that for her your attention wasn't just a polite and generous gesture dictated by the duties of a bystander. She could love you in a way that even your wildest dreams couldn't imagine, but she couldn't. Because it's wrong, Sara, it's not right, Sara, you're sisters. It's not right. You can't kiss her. Can't look at her. Can't touch her. You can’t touch her, Sara.
But if that was what you wanted? If it was "right"? Maybe then she would...
"How do you feel about the Vision Hunt?" you asked on one of those days when Sara could afford to spend an extra two hours around you; you hadn't seen each other in three weeks.
"This is the order of the almighty Shogun. If she thinks it's right, then it is."
"Do you think taking away people's dreams, aspirations and exploits is a good thing?"
"The almighty Shogun won’t do any harm to her people, Y/N."
You rose suddenly, staggered by a gentle gust of wind, and slowly walked over to the ikebana stand. Pulling back the vase, you took something out from under the flower petals and turned to Sara with a faint smile.
Sara sucked in air restlessly through her teeth, staring incomprehensively at the blue cast of Hydro Vision in your palm. She rose slowly.
"Is this... yours?" she muttered.
"I'm too weak to use it. The day I brought you home, Celestia blessed me... I didn't know what to do with it, so I hid it here. Now I know you need it. Then take it."
Your commanding tone was deep, and your fingers, casually touching her open palm, were cold as ice. Forcing your Vision into Sara's hand, you exhaled slowly and sank back to the veranda floor.
"That's all I can give you," you said muffled. "I'm already tired of wishes, because I have too many of them..."
"You don't have to give it away," Sara objected, stepping sharply closer. "You are in the Kujou clan, protected, and without your Vision you will forget what you want."
"Wouldn't that be better?" you smiled sadly. "Go away, please, Sara."
You looked at each other for some time, but your gaze was fixed and hers was desperate. As if wanting to say something, but not daring, she slowly, as if overcoming fear, approached you and whispered:
"You're killing me..." her eyebrows arched in a broken curve, as if Sara couldn't find the words to describe her condition. "You're scaring me to death. It's because of you..." she misfired, almost saying something she shouldn't have said, and only covered her eyes with the palm of her hand as if holding back from crying. As if hiding her face from you.
Sara's face was always calm and stern, the outlines as if carved from metal, and her eyes full of unyielding will. You got used to her cold gaze, but you've never wondered what's behind it. And only now you realized that within her was a sea of patience and strength, loyalty and obedience to fate, sacrifice and strength of spirit. But most importantly, in those eyes was boundless trust in you, in your choices, and a question: why would your sincere love have been enough for ten people, but not for Sara?
You've met on this veranda so many times over the years, silently or quietly talking, so many insignificant things have happened here. But you were never against it. You pretended that your illness was taking away your memories, but no matter what little things Sara mentioned, you remembered them with gratitude. How often she would call to you as you sat by the window, gazing at the stars in the sky for hours, and how long you would wait for her to come and walk silently with her to the engawa. And sometimes she would disappear for a few days, and you would even get a little worried. But soon she would come again.
Sara's steps were inaudible, her gait precise and graceful, but it wasn't like that before... That only thing, that you wanted, finally put her hand down with your Vision and looked at you with a pleading look.
Sara couldn't bear the silence – she wasn't in your head, she wasn't reflected in your eyes, she was just part of your place on this veranda and the autumn garden you admired from morning till night. It was unbearable. What Sara didn’t know, however, was that she was all you could think about on the verge of forgetting.
Sara didn't give your Vision to the Shogun: she couldn't. She loved you very much, very much as a human being, and she didn't want you to become even more detached than you are now. She knew you would be different, and she knew that then she would be different – less strong. Sara wanted you to have time, but if you were left without the Vision, the few years you'd been given would be gray as it was. She didn't want to lose you, so for the first time she did something like this: she left your Vision in her room, making sure it was well hidden. No one was supposed to know about it, or they'd probably misunderstand or maybe hurt you. Sara, of course, wouldn't let it happen while she was around, but what if something happened while she was away? It worried her. And the next time she came to see you – in your room, not on the veranda, because it was too late and cold to admire the garden – Sara stayed. You greeted her with serenity and a faint sense of painful fatigue, but still you tried to smile.
"You've been gone longer than usual this time. Are you okay?"
"Don't you want me to leave anymore?" she asked bluntly, as if your answer decided her fate right here and now.
"I never want that," your quiet voice answered her. "But you really have to stop coming here..."
You've talked about it a lot. Sara assumed it was an unfortunate delusion, as if she found it difficult to visit you, as if she would rather spend time with herself but felt obliged to you. Of course, that was the point, that it was the delusion of yours, because Sara was really happy around you, even if you just kept quiet. She wanted so badly to tell you that, but, alas, every time she did, you stubbornly diverted her attention to something else. As if you didn't want Sara to dissuade you and convince you of your own worth. Except there didn't seem to be any other place for her, and neither did you. Sara really wanted to wake up with you just once.
"Can I hold you?" she asked, standing over your bed and looking down at you. "If you're not mad at me anymore."
"You can do all whatever you think is right, Sara," you replied softly.
Your fingers touched her hand in an affectionate and soothing gesture, and Sara leaned over you and took yours in her palm, as if to see if you minded. She had no particular illusions about what you meant by the word "all". Your palm was as icy as your fingers, and she stroked your cheek. Her hand stopped a millimeter from your back, and you still didn't move, waiting to see what she would do now. Then Sara smiled at the corner of her lips and lifted her hand to run it over your cheek once more. Almost immediately, her hand snapped, and you felt her fingers outline your chin and neck. In the next second, your fingers tightened on hers, as if they were glued to them, and something in the look of the only thing you secretly wanted, your beloved woman, vanished. Some kind of fear, a barrier that was getting in her way. Sara sighed slowly, put her hands on your back, and cradled you gently in her arms, hugging you so gently, as if you were a porcelain doll that she carefully, for fear of damaging, tried to put back in its place. Then she smiled, and her eyes sparkled over your hair like two bright golden suns.
"I want to tell you something, Y/N," she murmured, gently stroking your shoulders. "I don't know if we'll see each other again, and, in fact, I'm worried that you might... That you'll leave."
"No, listen. What I want to say is this. I don't know how much longer I can keep you here, and maybe there's nothing I can do about it. But I don't want it to end. Don't go. Stay here, please."
"I'm trying, really, I'm trying very hard."
Sara blinked rapidly, raising her eyes to the ceiling. Then she spoke very quietly, and her hand, still on your back, trembled visibly.
"I have always loved you, Y/N. I know my arms are strong, but it has always been to protect you and thank the clan, and if you leave... I don't want only gratitude to remain. I can take care of you, it won't weigh on me. Because I… love you."
Your head was on her shoulder, and she stroked your hair, whispered something else, and squeezed your hand in hers. You could hear her heart beating. It wasn't at all like yours, it wasn't something you were prepared for, it looked as if there was simply no place left for you in the world you had long lived in. But all you felt was love, and so you lifted your head to meet Sara's gaze, which hadn't been so sincere and open in a long time.
Sara looked at you, apparently trying to figure out if this was really happening or not and that you weren't kidding. For fifteen seconds she sat motionless, but then, just when you were about to lower your head, the steel general of the Tenryou Commission finally broke down, snapped, wrapped her fingers around your cheekbone and kissed you; her lips, which touched yours, burned. The movements of her lips were quick and nervous, as if she were kissing you for the last time in her life, but she still failed to hide how her impatience exceeded all reasonable limits. And as she recoiled, you reached out to follow her lips, feeling your heart crumble into ashes. What had once been the epitome of tenderness and affection turned out to be hungry and tired. You were exceptionally clever, so you could understand your half-sister's feelings with ease; Sara just wasn't ready. And now, as she kissed you and squeezed her fingers around your waist, she trembled faintly; who would have thought that Kujou Sara would be so intemperate? Your lungs were burning from lack of oxygen, but when you pulled away, Sara herself wouldn't give you a chance to breathe. It was as if she was saying: "I was giving you a chance to push me away." Slowly you lowered yourself onto your back as Sara hovered confidently on top of you, a falling "curtain" of her hair covering everything around you; there was only her and the unbearable heat. It was the scariest and most beautiful thing you'd ever experienced; it felt like the world had ended, and the sky had opened, and no one, nothing in the world would ever be the same again. It was like liberation. Her tongue wandered over your lips, the carotid artery in your neck, and her fingers slid over the edge of your bare skin and layers of clothing, giving a faint electric shock. Your world filled, turned over, and the glass walls holding back your soul suddenly shattered, making you feel so free. And now, as the world you had so resisted shattered and your physical sensations strangely took on an unbearable sharpness, you suddenly realized that you should have done it sooner and simultaneously not at all; it would ruthlessly destroy Sara's heart. That last thought that flashed through your mind was definitely an important one.
The next morning Sara woke, still early, with the sun just over the horizon. The snow had already melted, and everything outside the window was gray and hopeless, even the garden, where the lily of the valley bloomed, seemed colorless to her. She didn't immediately realize what was wrong, there was just a strange feeling, like something was lost. Sara lifted herself up on her elbow, slowly remembering what had happened yesterday and struggling to revive the memory of how you had fallen asleep next to her, and she was hugging you, holding you close to her as if she were afraid that otherwise someone would surely steal you, and you seemed so light that she was almost afraid to make the slightest movement lest she lose you. Strangely, this thought only gave her strength and clarity, so Sara lowered her gaze to the spot beside her. You were gone.
At first she thought you'd just gone out, and though it was very silly, Sara didn't go looking for you. However, as she gradually calmed down and closed her eyes again to gather her thoughts, one of your maids, a woman of honorable age, entered the room and cried out muffledly. Sara slowly lifted her head from the pillow.
"Is something wrong?" she asked sternly.
"Mistress, please forgive me, I just thought for a moment that I saw young mistress Y/N," the maid hastily pulled herself together, but an incomprehensible shadow of sadness laid on her face. "Mistress, you should not sleep here. If Kujou-sama finds out, he will punish you".
"I don't know what it's about."
The maid bowed respectfully and closed the door quietly, not wanting to interrupt any more of what she thought was a kind of grief. Ever since the illness overcame you on the day of your majority, Sara has been the only one who seems to have felt nothing at all, but then the servants began to notice her constantly going to the veranda where you liked to sit, or to your room, talking muffledly about something. The servants thought it was her way of coping, but they didn’t see what Sara saw.
Sara saw you. An unexamined soul with an unfulfilled desire that for some reason never showed itself to anyone else, and now you were gone. She finally understood.
What you wanted was her. You wanted her to openly admit that she loved you, so that you could dissolve into her without a trace, and your soul would remain yourself, but you thought you would be rejected. And that was not fair. For after getting what you wanted, you finally disappeared, peacefully asleep in the arms of the tengu-woman that you loved, and that same tengu-woman woke up alone, in a cold room that had long been cold and abandoned. It was just your soul that made that room warm. And now you were gone.
