What are your pets named after, or how would you name a pet if you had one?
a fictional character
a celebrity
other human name
a food
another animal
a plant
other inanimate object
a word in another language
secret other thing (tell me in the tags)
I don't have/want a pet but I want to see the results
Voting ended onMar 3, 2023
Reblog if you vote! I don't care about sample sizes, I just like hearing about people's pets! also, tell me their names and what kinds of pets they are in the tags!
Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' webtoon | overview. This Webtoon follows the story of a woman who can somehow remember all her past lives.
sum. After a sweet hello, your lips never found its way to say the bittersweet goodbye. Because you knew you would always find your way back to him even if he won't recognize you in your renewable lives.
note. some scenes are purposely inaccurate to the canon lore
main.mlist genshin.mlist
You first met him as Morax, a little child dragon you grew up discreetly meeting at a very convenient time of your day, never knowing what's stored for the two of you.
He first met you as Y/N who resides at the countryside near Mt. Tianheng in hopes to find new things to discover across the vast lands of Teyvat. And he did. He found you.
Young Morax found you crouched under an oak tree, the wind flowing with your otherworldly voice, enrapturing him in blissful comfort.
Perched in the tree branch, he listens intently and let himself melt in your grace. It wasn't the first time he finds you warbling a melodic tune, and each time he comes back to hear more from you, it's always a different song and it wouldn't cease to amaze him how much ditty you know.
He lost count on how often he'd fall asleep with your voice lulling him and wakes up feeling empty as the epilogue of his day is always spent without your presence.
Sometimes he wonders if you know he has been watching you, and if you do, why aren't you approaching him? No matter, young Morax doesn't intend to befriend with you.
But then one day...
"Hello! You must be the boy who likes to hear me sing by the tree."
He was caught red handed, perhaps he became distracted that he didn't realize he's been shamelessly stalking you. He couldn't stop his curiosity to follow you in your way home.
Not only he's been spying on you, now he sounds like a stalker. But you didn't suspect, there wasn't anything to be suspicious of anyway.
"H-Huh? H-How did you know?" He gotta commend you for your keen senses. He's the Dragon between the two of you, which means he's supposed to be the one who has sharper senses.
"You must be good at anything but hiding. I have known you've been following me, but I never get to see you up close, you're really majestic looking, by the way." You chuckled as his poor attempt of masking his flushed face at your compliment.
"I don't mind your company, in fact, I want to be friends with you."
Friends. What a foreign concept for young Morax.
He has heard of that term, it's common among mortals, but he's not a mortal. Does this 'friend' term stretches to immortals like him as well? If so, then he has no reason to refuse.
Says the person who one minute ago thought of every alternative ways to stay out of your way.
He was skeptical at your optimism, most mortals would be astounded at his appearance and try to persuade him to spill whatever secrets he has, but as he got to know you better, he was a bit guilty to categorize you as one of them.
His horns and inhumane features? Young Morax found out you're only fascinated by his unique physical looks. And never doubted it.
"Cool! You have horns just like our boars, where did you get those? Can I touch them?"
"Did you just compare my horns to a pig? Pigs don't even have horns! How disgraceful!"
The sparkle in your eyes quickly died down as it came, and the young Morax feels tight in his chest just seeing your smile turns into a frown. You insulted his pride though!
You mumbled a meek apology but still kept your sheepish smile, a glimmer of hope that one day he'd let you do it.
The next days were spent by you sneaking out your house every midnight to meet up with the dragon, Morax. He's slightly skittish, oddly resembling him that of a cat, which is cute.
You probably shouldn't be calling a literal Dragon cute, legends depicted them as tyrannical creatures who seek treasures.
Ah! Classic children's story to scare the kids away at night, it did affect you in some way.
But you can't help it when he would eagerly look at you whenever he asks you to sing him a song.
You'd sit side by side under the tree, you have to admit he'd either falls asleep amidst your song or asks you for the lyrics so he can sing it to himself too.
You even dedicated a song that lets a certain flower bloom.
"Glaze Lily? What's that?" Young Morax asked with tilted head.
A smile outstretched your lips, "Beautiful, right? It transforms the memories of the land into its fragrance during florescence."
"Really?! Is that why you're always out in the dark?" You chuckled sheepishly, feigning ignorance, "Don't know what you're talking."
You got to know each other, held hands like innocent children, share what little knowledge your pea sized brain can, hug whenever one seeks comfort, eat under the glistening sun.
Morax is... a sensitive individual, albeit rough around the edges, but he's young and still learning, and you're unbelievably patient with his attitude— a quirk from you that he greatly appreciates.
From that, young Morax grew fond of you and it isn't one sided.
He flies by the same tree and gives you random things he finds magnificent, whether it could be a rock he found by the lake or a rare item that no one has ever discovered before.
Well, the legend wasn't lying about Dragons and treasure, for sure
You'd laugh at the strangest things he discovers but accepted them nonetheless. Every object he gives you is worth something.
This has been part of your routine for days, weeks, months, even years maybe. You don't know how much time has gone by whenever you're with him and you never bothered to count.
Before you know it, the two of you are almost in young adulthood, he grew up to be a fine man, much unlike you were expecting. Nothing changed from your friendship, until now.
You were taken by surprise when he suddenly blurted out one day
"I want to show you what I see from up there one day, Y/N."
He gazes at you much differently when he looks at you when you were younger. There's a glint of promise in his eyes that you can't pinpoint, it sent shivers all over your nerves.
"You can just fly me up there, Morax. I'm sure I'm not heavy." You muster a smile in an attempt to ease your quickening heartbeats.
He never gave a reply, he only stared at you so intensely that it feels like he's poking your deepest and innermost thoughts.
The way he stares at you never fails to summon the tickling butterflies in your stomach and the blood on your cheeks. You merely regarded that as your hormones, anyone would be flustered if someone they're close to stare at them like that.
You should've known better that nothing in your world stays permanent. The only thing you remember after that day was his twisted look of desperation to keep you alive and tear stained amber dyes trying to get the last image of you in his memories.
"N-No... Y/N please stay with me. D-Don't leave m-me just yet." It hurts you more than the numbing pain in your abdomen to see him broke down like a cornered prey. So helpless and vulnerable.
"I-I'll always be w-with you, Morax..."
So cruel, just when you've begun to realize the burgeoning feelings you have for the Dragon, fate took you away before you have the chance to confess.
Should you be selfish to confess your feelings to him? If you do, it seems like you'll be punishing him an endless torture ahead, and you would never wish Morax to suffer for eternity.
You only smiled and caressed his horns, even in your deathbed you're glad you died in the arms of the man you ever loved.
At the last moment, you heard the anguished wail erupts from his throat as he clutches your form closer, begging and crying for you to come back, to not leave him like this, that he needed you, that he loves you. His pleas fell on deaf ears, for you weren’t there to hear him anymore.
But it became clear to you that he reciprocated your love.
It came a shocking twist when you opened your eyes you can hear multiple cooing sounds from around you. Didn't I die in his arms? Where am I? Turns out, you were reborn. But not as Y/N anymore and you were given a surname.
Unfortunately, the Celestia isn't so forgiving. You were suffering from an unknown illness that took away your second life at such a young age.
You trained hard and learned martial arts in your third life as you were born from a family whose tradition is to produce well-trained warriors in the future.
Fourth to eight life came by like a blur, there were times when you get to lived as an innocent child only for it to be ripped away a few years later with your past memories resurfacing.
You stopped counting after it hits a dozen, born in different class, society and unnamed nation. There's no point of it.
All you want is to look for Morax, but will he remember you? Will he even recognize you as Y/N? You're no longer the kid he grew fond of. No, you're much different than before.
What about him? Decades have past, does he still know of your name? You could've been a fragment of his childhood that he dare not talk about with his new friends.
Will I make your life more difficult by trying to reconnect with you, Morax?
Those thoughts haunted you for nights, often occuring in your dreams.
But what can you do, you're so far away from Mt. Tianheng, you don't even know if the village you lived in still exists nor do you know if Morax still visits the tree you first met.
Even if you did meet him in your new life, you ought to stay as acquaintances.
Aiding him in the shadows and lessening his burdens within your power.
In your hundredth life, all of your training in your third life is proven useful at the moment. You're known as the infamous warrior with no name that took down the monsters around Teyvat, you were revered to the people in the Guili Assembly.
War is threatening to wage amongst Gods and mortals alike.
When it came, no one is safe in and out of the battlefield. To survive they must fight tooth and nail, paint the lands in sea of red and play the game of thrones.
It was gratuitously morbid, gruesome and unjust. A macabre of series of deaths surrounded your every wake, your hundredth life is the epitome of a living nightmare. Horrifyingly memorable.
You were at the sidelines, watching as the war unfold, keeping tabs on Morax's allies and eradicating whatever threat they face.
That's when you came across the stunning Goddess Guizhong, the Ruler of Clouds, Goddess of Dust. A very close companion of Morax whom he met at the Guili Assembly along with the others.
She's capable and quick-witted, a type of peculiar person Morax wouldn't hesitate to be friends with.
As of the moment, a claymore is alarmingly closing its gap towards her, ready to slice her open.
Then you heard him scream, a cry of a man who's about to lose everything he has gained of.
That cry sent flashbacks of his tear-stained cheeks. No, you don't want to see him like that again! You'd do anything to chase away that vulnerable image of Morax, he deserves happiness and love.
Your feet went autopilot and swept away the Goddess out of the way, severing your lower limbs in the process and instantly killing you. Your eyes opened and you have started your new life.
Was Morax relieve that Guizhong lived? Did he wonder why a stranger would save her? Did he ever ask who you were? Did he... recognize you at the very least?
Your new parents panicked as they tried to appease the crying infant in their arms. Unbeknownst to your pained heart.
You saw for a brief moment before your demise how Guizhong's plausible absence will affect him. He will mourn her death as much as he lamented yours. For decades or centuries, you know he has been scarred by your passing.
You don't want him to go through that again. It's a different pain you feel when you see him tearing up, you rather get minced by a claymore than to watch him break down.
He garnered the reputation of a tyrant— but you knew better that Morax grew up with compassionate heart, he appreciates anyone no matter how insignificant they think they are.
Which is why you hold yourself from meeting him. He may not remember you, but he will certainly get attached to you once you had your way to his heart.
And a dragon who can outlive you in any lives will only suffer more from your death.
You dedicated your lives in living peacefully, learning history and new things as humanity evolves.
You vow to never fall in love if it isn't Morax you'll spend your mortal life with.
Even if he has someone he can fall in love with.
"Have you heard about the land Lord Morax and Lady Guizhong are building in Mt. Tianheng?" Gossips are everywhere about the infamous partners who survived the Archon War, there's no mouth that has not utter their names, and you're no exception.
A grin spreads over your lips as you sip your tea with elegance, "I've heard, I haven't seen them in person but the rumors about them guaranteed they're ambitious people with good hearts."
This has been a hobby you never knew; praising Morax to elate people's opinion about him. It's your small contribution to his flourishing nation.
You want people to love and respect Morax dearly just as you loved him in your childhood.
You prayed to the new Archons for Morax to find someone he can love and lean on. Someone that can be his source of strength to keep living. Someone much better than leaving him with death.
Now that he found someone he can be with, your goal in your next lives is to protect Liyue's history.
From the names of ancient relics and objects, war waged by the Gods, Nations that were built underneath the once blood soaked lands, fallen heroes who are forgotten— you know all of them. You're openly willing to offer tutelage to the inquisitive.
You sighed at the thought, it certainly will be lonely in your part. Immortal gods can still die— a death in which they'd leave their memories behind and start anew. Morax will eventually cease to existence with lovable Nation and Guizhong to remember him.
And you? Countless past lives yet you never found true happiness, and none of them was worth to remember for anyone.
Part of you feels happy for Morax finally moving on from your death eons ago, but you're still human so you're susceptible to those horrible impulses of bitterness at a basic level.
You don't want to be a person who looks at Guizhong with jaundiced eyes just because you couldn't have Morax, so you suck it up and move on the fact Morax is in love with another.
At least my sacrifice isn't a total waste.
"Aren't they? I've met Lady Guizhong, she's such a beautiful and soft spoken woman. She and the Lord of Geo are a perfect match. I wish the two of them eternal blessings."
A tug at your heart left an unpleasant feeling, your brain tried to reason that at least he's with someone that'll love him more than you did. That can appease your bitter aching heart a bit.
How ironic. You built a nation where you first met me.
And showed her what you can see up there like you promised me.
Is that how you honor my death, Morax?
"Wow! You sure do know many things, Y/N!" The floating emergency food expressed her awe in your display of knowledge and the traveller couldn't agree more with her, "She's right, you never cease to surprise us."
Their exclaims were followed by your enchanting laugh, "I'm glad I can be at your service, Honory Knight."
You were simply ethereal to look at, you maybe a mortal like the traveller but the Blondie thinks otherwise.
Paimon and her travelling buddy met you by the Starnach Cliff when they were attempting to subdue Dvalin. Jean and Diluc already know you're part of the Adventurer's Guild as you often visit Mondstadt from time to time.
They didn't expect you to join them in their excursion in Stormterror's Lair, it turns out you're a great addition to the team.
You befriended with the traveller after the whole Stormterror fiasco and catch up with Kaeya.
You don't stand out the most in the crowd, you can blend in with everyone and no one would acknowledge your existence. But the traveller can sense the weight of the wisdom you withhold.
It almost feels like you're one of the Seven...
"Is there something else I can help you with, Traveller?"
"Huh?! Oh... I— Uhh... You've been telling us stories and fun facts about Mondstadt. If you don't mind, can you tell us about Liyue?"
For an ephemeral moment, the traveller saw your facade crumbles and slowly morphed into a nostalgic expression.
"Hmm. I'll tell you a quick introduction. Liyue is built in Mt. Tianheng after the Lord of Geo attained one of seven seats, unlike the Anemo Archon who's known to not show himself, he descends down once a year to give blessings to the people of Liyue."
"Exactly how Venti told us, but more detailed."
"He sounds a lot more of a decent God than Tone-Deaf Bard."
Her statement elicited a quiet snicker from you, "I'll be off then, I'll see you around soon." Paimon's expression deflated, "You're not coming with us?"
You shake your head, "I'll visit you when I can, until then I hope for your safe travels."
You forced a smile and took a different path from the traveller, as their figures disappear in the horizon, you felt your smile slip up as the sun whisks past the mountains turning to dusk.
Solitude in the dark has been part of your daily routine, you come and go whenever you feel like it, not knowing when to return.
The excuse you told to Paimon isn't entirely a lie, you couldn't bring yourself to go in Liyue when there's active Fatui agents scattered around the vicinity.
Let's just say you're not in good terms with the Fatui. Who isn't?
Nevertheless, whatever curse you have continued to persist in your thousandth life. You roamed around Teyvat and tell stories that even historians don't know.
Repeated lives were lived by just you traversing in each corners of Teyvat that even Archons never knew it existed.
Along the way, you've come terms with your feelings and settled it down like a dormant volcano. Morax is your first love, you enjoyed reminiscing the memories you made with him, you keep those memories locked up in the depths of your mind and often recount them in particular leisure time of the day.
You still love him, and you'll always be by his side whenever he needs a helping hand, but enough is enough, you've suffered enough to your own idiocy and fears. It's time to move on.
Morax continued to strive forward because he has changed, for the better of course. If you want to continue living the next lives of yours then you need to change too.
You met new friends and companions that you begin to trust and have fun with, the traveller and the emergency food included. It wasn't lonely as you thought it would be.
Sometimes you wonder why do you have such curse bestowed upon you. Did the Celestia punish you for a crime? Did you touch a forbidden relic in your first life? Is there a way to get rid of it?
You stopped in your tracks and you gaze up in the sky.
Am I the only one with such curse?
Damn, you really need to get your priorities straight when you have so many unanswered questions.
Basking the remnants of the ever glowing star, you turn around to walk the path that leads you to the Land of Eternity.
A new journey awaits you as you skid through the mycelium path.
Rex Lapis has died.
What a year starting with the news of a tragic death of an Archon.
Fret not Liyue citizens, Rex Lapis assumed the form of Zhongli as a consultant in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. In all honesty, he thinks you would facepalm on how poorly delivered that news was.
Zhongli now blends in with the mortals, often strolling to acknowledge the accomplishments he has done as an Archon.
There were too many sacrifices he made just to achieve such title and godly powers. It's uncountable.
Whenever he strolls down the streets of Liyue, there's never a day that he is not reminded of the fact Mt. Tianheng is the very foundation of Liyue. It serves as a reminder that you are his pillar when intrusive thoughts start to linger in his mind.
Oftentimes, your face is only a blur in his memory, no matter what he does he can't seem to remember your face, but your name has been engraved on his mind for eons.
He misses hearing the sound of your name leaving his lips. He misses how ignorant you both were to the world's suffering. He misses your mesmerizing voice that lulls him to sleep.
Whoever fellow Archon listening to his complex thoughts must have heard him and granted his not-so-impossible wish.
"Hey look. Doesn't that sound like a story Y/N has told us before?" A child(e)— no, a floating fae pointed at the storyteller.
But Zhongli couldn't care less about whoever she was pointing. Did he hear her right? Was it just his ears deceiving him?
Y/N... that's your name.
That's the name he longed to hear again.
Why in the seven nations of Teyvat would they mention your name? Is it just a coincidence that someone has the same name as you? No, that couldn't be it.
Something flared inside him, it's been awhile since he felt this excitement, it's not far fetched when he became your friend.
With no recollection, he became friends with the traveller and the emergency food floating companion.
When he asks them about you, an array of hope filled his entire being and he swore his Dragon feature almost burst into existence
Y/N L/N, a member of the Adventurer's Guild, he's certain you've been in Liyue if you know about its rich culture.
But where are you? He wants to go find you. Hug you like when you were kids. Sing him songs. Bring you random things he can find. Speak the words that were left unspoken when you died.
So many questions brooding his mind; are you really Y/N? If so, were you reincarnated? Does that mean you don't remember him?
The elation he felt dropped. Right... he shouldn't be disappointed if it turns out his hunch is wrong. Even if you're not the Y/N he was expecting, he wants to know you as who you are and not compare the similarities and differences you have with the Y/N he knows.
"Oh yeah, Y/N mentioned they'll be visiting Liyue soon, Mr. Zhongli." The Traveler quipped, assessing the abrupt change of emotions on the consultant's face at the mention of your name.
Paimon and her travelling buddy can't help to wonder if you two are acquaintances, or perhaps something more than that. Zhongli seems to be expecting your arrival from now on.
"Is that so? Thank you for informing me, Traveler. I shall see to it that their stay will be comfortable." He smiled.
Stay in what? In the Funeral Parlor? The Traveler sweat drop while Paimon is tempted to point out that's Verr Goldet's job. Good thing their companion put a hand on her mouth and excuse themselves
There's no time to stall! He thought.
He's determined to check it himself, it can go two ways and Zhongli won't be petulant of the result.
Archons forbid if he ever finds you, because he will not let you go.
A/N: i swear I'm gonna update my Eleceed series!! This idea has been stuck in my head since forever. I might make a Part 2 idk. Should I make part 2?
I’m really bad at going through dms so I’ve added “tattoo ticket” to my shop! You can choose from one of my pre-existing designs and I will send you the lineart. Shop link
I’m a cat enthusiast and i can tell you, the kitty is actually trying to help! (or just trying to figure out what humane is doing by also touching it)
Cats like to mimic what other members if their cat groups are doing. In human enviroments, this translates to cats following humans (who they see as part of their group) and trying to mimic activities they are doing.
Human sits on couch? Cat sit with them! Human reading or on their computer? Cat go after human and sprawl over them or the keyboard because cat do the same! Human eating? Cat also want eat! Human touch spining clay and make weird shapes? Cat also do that! Cat help!
Based off of this plot with major alterations; After his third betrayal, he stumbles upon the one thing that would never deceive him. Not a god, not a human; a broken puppet, discarded just like him. Part 2.
He had heard of this tale multiple times by now, all in different versions and walks of life.
From his bladesmith friend who recounted the tale of a statue that guards a sakura tree in a faraway village in Tatarasuna, and that those who dare harm either of the two meet a fate most foul. But he remembered it only as a made up story, ever spoken to him once as a bedtime story and forgotten soon after.
Another iteration the puppet heard was of a beautiful ghost, who had died by the tree and lingered since then as a spirit awaiting its lover. Its doll-like feature had left many humans falling for the specter, while some find it tradition to leave offerings for love and fortune. He remembered shaking his head as he turned away from the intoxicated villager, focusing on bringing the lavender melons back home.
And the last one came from someone old, with a wrinkled smile shy of teeth, and eyes perpetually closed. When the elder heard of the versions he had recounted, he could not help but laugh, despite the scathing glare sent his way.
"None of those versions are true." But how can he be so sure? "There is one more, while we cannot verify its authenticity, it is at least the first one to ever exist." And he with his straw hat followed after the mortal as they walked.
The guardian of eternal slumber, is a tale of a puppet (to this, he perked up) who wondered into the village in search of something. Upon seeing the sakura tree, they made home at its roots, dutifully waiting. Generations came and went, but neither of its visitors could ever sway it to leave.
Soon enough, the villagers began leaving items in sympathy of the lonely puppet. And if it is up to its unspoken standards, the puppet would open its eyes. Zealots began to view that gaze as divine, and preached that those who were to see it are blessed.
Gifts became offerings, and visitors all over Inazuma went out of their way for a chance to be blessed with fortune.
He and the old man found themselves in a scarce village, of rundown houses and deathly silence. "But in the greed of desperate devotees, one group decided to steal the puppet one night in hopes of monopolizing the blessings." They passed by the only house that looked functional. "Lightning struck our sakura tree and the village's lands began to lose life. The criminals were never found."
The puppet only comprehended the darkened grass flattening under their steps, dried out and crumbling from the pressure. But he could not pay it any more mind as they reached a staircase, leading up a hill where a sakura tree in full bloom resides.
"You are like them." His violet gaze turned sharp and his attempts to climb the steps stopped. "May you both find what you're looking for."
"Musings of an old man." His moves forward, fingers clenching his sleeves in contempt and anticipation. "What I'm looking for is beyond your understanding." There is no reply.
When the base of the tree slowly appeared over the horizon, the sakura tree began shedding its leaves in with the gust of the wind. And he found himself stopping at the last step upon meeting eyes with a visage.
Never had he felt such hopeful and wide gaze on him before, framed by the pink shower of sakura petals both old and new where they sat, pulling one's attention away from the dead vines and clinging dust.
But as quickly as it came, the smile on their face slowly fades.
And those eyes once brimming with hope turned to hate so searing, it burned him more than the hate in his empty chest.
"Have we truly exhausted all our options?" A passing wind felt like a gentle caress, swaying the pink petals above to a comforting, simple melody.
The sakura tree stands tall and beautiful, gaze unable to look away, its color flooding your vision successfully.
"Quell your doubts now, the proof is already in your arms." The soft cloth cradling you moves, prompting your gaze to look up, from pink to purple hues.
"It is nothing short of miraculous." She's more beautiful than the sakura tree. You blink at her, she smiles. And warm too, even more so when she cradles you closer, the softness of her embrace and kimono lulling you to sleep. "The proof of eternity."
Your face was half-buried by the silken cloths as you simply watched closely, your creator and another person's conversation passing. At one point, you reached out to take a petal that landed on your creator's sleeve. She smiles again.
"Then I shall be in your care." You curl your fingers around the petal as a soft hand covers your eyes.
"It is my duty, Ei."
Stumbling out of the dark room into an empty world shrouded by the night, you clutched the pink petal close to your chest as you set out for your creator.
Blindly stumbling in the dark, in your haste and desperation, you find your feet take you to a familiar sight. A pretty sakura tree, just as beautiful as the one you've seen. And so you sat between roots, waiting for your mother.
You haven't heard footsteps in a long time, was the first thing that came into your mind as you rubbed at your eyes with your haori. How long has it been since you last woke up?
Yet despite your tired eyes and blurry vision, that familiar shade of purple began to climb the stairs.
Could it be? After all this time, she's finally -
The weakness in your knees were more than the fatigue, as your smile fell in realization that it wasn't her.
But those eyes, that hair - that faltering smile.
There is emptiness, no purchase, no purpose - to your steps as your legs carried you to walk away from the tree, down the steps, away from here. Anywhere, anywhere else but here.
The puppet sputters as he turns to your retreating form, only for his attention to be divided as the old man found his way over to the tree, sitting on the root where he had seen you perched on.
"The sakura tree has shed its last leaf." The old man looks up at the empty branches before looking at him. "Go after them, there is nothing left here to see." And closed his eyes.
He turns to follow and never looked back.
She left you. She abandoned you. She's forgotten you. She replaced you.
It doesn't take a child to come to that conclusion and they echo in your mind repeatedly in every waking moment.
"Where are we going?" You dug your foot harshly in the sand before turning around, watching his eyes that scanned the area to land on you.
"Why are you still following me?" You watched his curious eyes widen to perplexity, lips parting and closing as he scrambles to find the right answer. Only a few seconds pass before you turn again and resume your walk.
You wouldn't be able to answer him either.
Your desire to get away from him was never answered either, opting to follow the footprints in the sand for hours upon hours. At times, you'd find yourself stumbling when your joints struggled to follow orders. You'd hear him mumble, make noise, but they stop after you brush off the incident and continue.
This was the first time he addressed you, and this was the first time you talked.
That was also the only time you looked at him - and nothing had changed. He still looked like her, the same presence, the same energy.
She replaced you?
Looking over your shoulder, you chanced another glance to see his gaze elsewhere again, as if looking out for something. Only then did you notice a transparent cloth folded, hung, and tucked beneath an arm.
"Are you certain you are fine with that attire?" His attention was on you again, looking over your form. At your glare, he seemed to backtrack after realizing the misunderstanding. "I mean no harm, I'm simply mentioning due to your... Exposed joints and the petals hanging on your form."
If you could only see yourself in his perspective. Perhaps it was due to being divine creations but despite the unsightly details that clung to you (no doubt due to time), there is still a magnificence to you that made you look ethereal.
He supposes that would make sense, as you are worthy of folklore and tales.
He watched as you gingerly rubbed at your left wrist's joint (he had yet to see you ease your curled up left hand) while his eyes lingered on the pink sakura blooms that's found home in your hair and the folds of your clothes.
Whenever he closed his eyes, it feels like he's still standing next to the sakura tree, the sweet scent permanently lingering so long as you're nearby. It's soothing.
With a raised brow, you looked at him with questioning eyes. A good sign, and he finds that you looked much better without a glare.
"Not all humans are open to the concepts of our existence." The gloom fading the light in his eyes doesn't sit right with you. "It would be best to cover up."
It was only then that you noticed the black arm guards conveniently covering his wrists. But what can you use to hide them here?
Watching your eyes scan the area for something, the second puppet stepped close and unfolded the cloth in arm to reveal a very long but beautiful veil. "While it's still transparent, it should be good enough to at least camouflage it." What a beautiful shade of purple. "May I?"
You do not miss the eagerness in his eyes, hands clutching the cloth in waiting. It's the best you can do for now, you thought as you bowed your head.
He was expecting a glare, a refusal, anything to dispel his suggestion. But the moment the agreement registered in his head, he quickly but carefully draped the veil over your head like he had worn before.
You gasped when the cloth almost slipped off when you straightened up, only for his hands to pull it over again. "Careful, perhaps we can find pins to keep it in place."
Your gaze lingered at the hands close to you. Porcelain white and perfectly unharmed. You reached up - with a hand littered with cuts and creaky movement - before pushing his hands off as you turn to walk again.
You hear him gasp, pause, and his footsteps follows behind you again.
She may have replaced you.
But she abandoned you both.
He doesn't miss the way you pull the veil over your face whenever you look at him.
Even now when you accept the lavender melon slice to eat. At one point, he had forgotten that puppets need not eat, but before he could fix his mistake you took the food and ate like normal.
Perhaps you had gotten used to the offerings given to you back at the village, just like how you carried the mora you received despite not knowing how to use it. Something you easily lent him at the promise of necessities.
His eyes lingered on your wrists and ankles where the black guards now cover it. And then to the veil that had lost its purpose, or at least, its initial purpose. (With his kasa, he also sees no purpose to take it back.)
He also bought you a new yukata to replace your old one but - "It's still not fully dried, it seems." His eyes lingered on the damp purple haori he had hanged on one of the branches, the only clothing you refused to part with. He took the liberty to wash it seeing as he knew how to, and he was more than estatic when he realized the scent of the sakura blooms still stuck to it.
That, and there's not much one can do with just one hand.
Sitting next to you, he watches as the hand resting on the grassy floor hides underneath the veil. Still clenched to a fist, still hiding.
He must have been staring obviously when you finally spoke. "I can't open it."
His eyes met your veiled ones before looking back to your hand - and then he quickly looks away despite his gaze still glancing in the corner of his eyes. He's flustered for being caught, you recognize the shyness.
"Then... Can I try and help with prying it open?" He is too curious for his own good.
Despite your nod, you make no move to pull your hand from under the veil. More so, you simply looked back to watching the clouds pass. Alright, it's up to him then.
Mumbling a please excuse me, he swipes the veil away to take your hand. He feels a slight flinch but continued on without any other sign of discomfort.
Your fingers are stuck close. He knows it's not intentional when there's no tension in your arm that indicates you're forcing it closed. So you weren't lying, he pursed his lips as he began nudging and uncurling each finger.
For each digit he takes time to flex each section to alleviate the jagged, mechanical movement. Before he could lose himself to the tender proximity, something on your finally open palm catches his eyes.
A sakura petal. Creased on some places but still looking fresh.
"Mother..." He sees you mouth before the fingers slowly curled around the pink blossom.
He doesn't ask anything further. Not when his feather necklace weighs heavily in his own pocket.
"Why are you still here?" You ask again. This time, he does not miss the question you wanted to ask.
This time he speaks. "I would never abandon you." Because you only have each other now.
It was your turn to become quiet.
Only the wind through the leaves dared to break the silence.
Sora. Sakura. Aoi. Haru. Hana. Kami.
You bow your head to look at the black fan in your hand. Sensu.
Feeling the gaze of someone's attention on you, your furrowed brows deepened as you unfolded the fan to cover the lower half of your face, turning to the other puppet sitting by the hill with you.
His purple gaze took time to register the eye contact that told him he was caught staring, and when he did his small smile faded in his fluster, turning to hide in the open book he was supposed to be reading. Was he basking in your frustrations? Perhaps he was, especially since it was his own doing that caused this turmoil to begin with.
In your wandering, you came across a bustling small town that he decided to walk through instead of around for once. Mostly because of the approaching rain clouds that threatens to soak your perfectly dry selves, and through your joints and cracks - there was an incident before that he didn't want to deal with again, didn't want to be careless of your condition when it not only deterred you from properly functioning but from also looking at him with kinder eyes.
But the pretty stalls, the whispers and shouts, it was all drawing your attention. He learned from the long trips you two had done that there was a lot of things you have yet to discover, see for yourself, after staying by the Sakura tree for hundreds of years. A festival seems to be one of those.
He took note of the way your eyes lingered on interesting things, familiar objects, counted your pocket money and bought what might look cheap enough to spare. Like a kanzashi that you used to fasten the veil to your haori, a stick of tricolor dango that he gently blew on when he thought it was still too hot.
And lastly - he watched your gaze linger on a black folding fan in display, eyes solemn in comparison to the other many things that caught your eye. He can tell why, simply because he knows what it meant too. His memories with her are far and few but he remembers them in full detail, they haunt his dreams every night, after all. "We should -"
"I... want that fan."
Only when you finally looked at him with furrowed brows (mayhaps due to impatience) did he finally make his way forward to address the vendor. "Only 300 mora." More than what he wanted but he it won't be a huge loss. "If you add 100 mora, I can also write on the fan. Do you want your name on it?"
His grip on the pouch tightened, sending a glare to the vendor that she conveniently misses in her sole attention focused on you. Still that same sales lady smile, how irritating she lacked the common sense to read the room.
"Ah, perhaps you didn't want to share your name, you two do seem like you're not from around here. How about -"
"We only need the fan, you annoying hag." Throwing the coins on the stall, the pristine puppet roughly snatched the fan away and pulled you away, far from the village and far from any stupid human who might catch on to the hateful sneer hidden by the shadow of his hat.
That was hours ago, and the moon replaced the sun by now. Tsuki.
It was time for rest, if you can call it that. Carefully folding the fan close, you lean back against the tree trunk as the stars above began to shine, a familiar sight you've seen more times than you can count. You close your eyes all the same.
You never sleep. It was something that he had discovered only some time ago when nightmares would find him instead, and his frazzled mind would notice your eyes on him every time he awakens. And many times he wonders if you simply do not trust him to be vulnerable in his presence.
Yet you would always answer when he tests the waters, and the one time he tried to sneak up on you, a tight grip on his wrist immediately pulled him away. He remembers the fear and the pain, the same ones reflected in your eyes that followed him in his unfortunate nights.
He thought he would never be able to sleep too when the fear of finding out that his dreams were true when he wakes up kept him from dozing off.
But one night when he thought the long silence of the night would accompany him once again, a comforting melody slowly coaxed him to the land of dreams so easily. When he turned to you with barely open eyes, you barely moved, the expressions on your face only privy to the moon and the stars and the veil that hides you.
That was the only time he wished he could take it away from you.
That same lullaby echoed tonight and you opened your eyes, turning to the other puppet to see his lids closed, concentrated on recreating that same melody he had only heard briefly. Somehow, you mused as your eyelids slowly started to droop, his voice soothed the nightly song more. So peaceful.
And it would turn softer in your dreams, as soft as the silk that wraps around you, as soft as the petals that lands on you, as soft as the woman that calls for you.
When he woke up, he saw the start of the beautiful sakura shower, the blooms finally cascading to color the sea of green he laid on. He sees why you can never look away when they are in full bloom, just as he couldn't look away from your form that watched on with eyes full of life.
"What's your name?"
His hand brushes against the book he took from the village as he sits up. "Kunikuzushi." The rustling leaves made your mutters incoherent, but his eyes do not betray him when he saw your lips move to test out the syllables.
"What about yours?" Your gaze slowly left the sakura tree to watch 'Kunikuzushi' make his way over. "Have you made up your mind?" Despite looking forward, his purple hues would occasionally flicker to you in obvious anticipation.
The dream in a thousand restless nights speaks to you clearer now, and you mimic that word, that name.
"(Y/N)." He let it roll off his tongue in a deliberate manner, with such wonder and awe so child-like the first time you met. 'Kunikuzushi' dropped the facade to hide his elation and smiled freely this time. You turn your head to look back at the Sakura tree. "It sounds pleasant, it suits you."
You pull the veil over your face for good measure.
Only when the last petal fell from the tree did you finally step away with purpose, hand in crumbling hand with Kunikuzushi, never looking back.
Too sleep-deprived and sick to write anything else so you get this early. Part 2 releases either the next day or the day after that.
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