ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: uhm. obsessiveness? yandere if you blink a couple times? cult themes... the usual deal with this au
⤷ [ you, the benevolent and kind overseer and creator of teyvat, has descended upon this world in mortal flesh, with a presence that is overpowering, omniscient, and so impossibly pure. ෆ
yet, one day, you come into the cathedral with a gash on your arm, dripping with shimmering golden ichor that spilled from your veins.
there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring. ]
— sagau!xiao noticed you immediately. it would be hard not to. since the beginning, he had always heard it.
your sound. a beautiful one, a heavenly one. a chord struck him, somewhere in his chest, and he found himself panting on the ground, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.
like a electric charge - one that leaves you startled, tentative, with the tips of your fingers still tingling from what happened moments prior. a buzz in your veins that thrums along with your heartbeat.
he didn't deserve to see you. not with what sins he had committed. but xiao was selfish. he wanted to, with his tainted body, he wanted to praise you, scrape his throat raw with his voice.
and so he did.
his face brightens as you step into the cathedral, dressed in ceremonial robes as per usual. you look ethereal, why would you not? your eyes are warm as they fixate on him, and he can feel his heart skip a beat and words die in his throat. he kneels before you orderly, readying to lift his head when something catches his attention - that is, the coppery scent of blood.
blood?
a droplet splatters onto the dustless floor. melted gold.
xiao's already stood up before he realizes it. his eyes are blown wide, his shrunken pupils sharp, like a cat's. "who. who did this to you?" those words take all the willpower in him to speak. his mind is swirling, racing, thinking up of every single possibility, vision scattered and blurry as unbridled fury teems within him.
"it's nothing. some civilians have begun rioting in the city, saying that i'm an imposter. all i did was show them a little bit of my blood and they all started singing praises, so the issue has been resolved." you shake your head with a soft smile, like this matter isn't anything to concern himself over.
it is.
he hates it. how he feels so fucking powerless, how he couldn't even stop this simple event from occurring in the first place. it's his fault. it's his and everyone else who dared not believe your words. your word is the truth. it is the undeniable laws of the world, what maps the stars and what lays the land.
he'll have time to ingrain that within everyone's minds. even if it means time away from you. but that's not the issue at the moment. he turns to search for bandages, but sees the already-healing wound slowly closing up as your skin mends together.
there's a knife at your side, coated in something that shimmers in the rays of light coming from the high, color-tainted windows.
something in his heart decides, seeing your reserved smile.
there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.
very well.
then he'll just have to eradicate every last one of them. ₊˚ෆ
— sagau!childe had, to be honest, never cared all that much. why would he, to the person who had abandoned him into the cold, dark, abyss? yet, the smile on your face. it's bright. so bright it burns him. was there a day where he could smile like that?
no, no. he couldn't. that's an expression only reserved for someone as beautiful as you. as pure as you, like a blank, unblemished canvas, with the world as its paint. it's a level of resplendency that no one on this cursed universe could ever hope to accomplish.
a god in flesh, living in a tainted world. a walking contradiction that he had grown to call the thing that allowed him to keep living. something that spurred irony, you who broke all forms of the logic he had made to keep himself sane. perhaps that was why the heart he'd locked away has suddenly begun aching again? is that why he feels so warm from your divine prescence?
"childe?" you call out his name into the vast, empty hallways, glancing around for the familiar sight of a tuft of ginger hair. he hears you at once, rushing to your side with a grin on his face.
"your grace??" he bows at the sight of you, unable -to contain his excitement as he quivers in place, the smile on his lips tugging upwards even more than its current extent. "yes, what's-"
he stops abruptly, his voice faltering as he catches the scent of something iron. one familiar on the battlefield, a liquid that'd paint the surroundings a beautiful red.
his heart pounds. the thrill of a battle? no, that can't be it. if that was the case, how come it felt like he was slowly suffocating on his unspoken words?
that's when he catches the sight of the poorly wrapped bandages encasing your forearms. and the shimmering ichor that's soaked through the hastily wrapped cloth.
he moves to grab your arm, but curses himself out as he quickly changes direction and tightly holds your wrist, his expression more pained than yours, despite you being the one suffering with the injury. "what... your grace, what is this?"
he hates your knowing smile. he hates it. (oh, but does he? could he hate anything that is of you?) it just reminds him how you're all too far for him to reach, a purity that he does nothing to maintain. "there was a riot in the city against the church. luckily, they all quieted down after i gave them a glimpse of..." you trail off, ending your incomplete sentence with a sheepish smile. the rest is self-explanatory, anyway.
his vision trembles as his pupils shake. "haha, you...?" fuck. fuck fuck fuck, just whose idea was it to allow you near a knife? how did you get your hands on that?? which stupid fucking bumbling idiot allowed for this to happen?
it's his fault. he should've been by your side. curse the fatui, curse them all, how could they possibly dare keep him away from your holy being? the guilt that churns within him, is that why he remains mute as you step away, gracefully walking to meet with the other retainers?
there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.
no, it's fine.
it will all be fine.
cutting off their tongues won't be enough. cutting them up until they're a dismembered, bloody mess isn't even close to what you've suffered for the sake of humanity.
yes, he'll make them realize that. they'll pay with their blood a thousand times over. ₊˚ෆ
— sagau!zhongli had his breath taken away by you before he even saw you, before the two of you had even exchanged words. your presence - it was so simply alluring, a saccharide charm that just drew him closer and closer.
sweet. yes, it was a familiar flavor upon the tongue that had long since tasted the many marvels the world had to offer. like a warm cup of tea, made from the sugary extract of flowers, how the sensation of it seemed to bloom upon your mouth.
ah, how should he put this. perhaps you had procured the blossom in his heart instead? stems, leaves, buds, a floret that'd only appear when you were in his gaze. a steady thrum that ran throughout his body with every stolen glimpse he took from your attention expertly.
perhaps, was this what he felt all those years ago?
did it matter? his soul was resolute, now, and it glowed gold, just like the blessed blood that flowed through every vein and lay in every vessel within that beautiful, beautiful you.
yes, ichor... just like the splatter of it on the ground...? a pang of fear strikes him - has something happened to you while he was away? he should've none better than to trust those good-for-nothing other cultists, who spend all their time babbling about your gloriousness yet turn a blind eye to whenever you require assistance!
no, he had to calm himself down. this wasn't the moment where he should grow frustrated. first, he must confirm the situation... he's planned this out to the every plan b, c, d, e, and so on, so how come he's still feeling so anxious?
there you are, upon your throne, busy conversing with a fellow archon, the one as free as the wind. funnily enough, you were the one that tied him down like a shackle.
"ah, zhongli. are you alright? you're breathing quite hard." you tilt your head, averting your gaze from venti's sparkling eyes and instead fixing them on the usually stoic man's jumbled expression. his shoulder's heave as he resists the urge to collapse at your feet.
"what... what are you... you're hurt?" stained bandages peek out from just below your silk sleeve, a sight that cannot possibly be missed from his attentive gilded eyes. "why didn't you tell me? i-i'll call one of the healers so they can-"
"zhongli, there's no need for that." with a hand, you gently signal venti to leave the scene, which he does, with obvious reluctance. a silence gesture that resonates with appreciation deeply within him. "this was of my own accord."
"your own accord?"
"unbelievers decided to throw a riot, and there wasn't much i could do except...well, don't they say that seeing is believing?" how come you don't look the slightest bit pain? where is your self-pity? your frustration? "anyhow, i'm not in a good state. please leave me for the time being, i don't plan on receiving any more audiences tonight."
he bows hastily, yet each movement is still finely crafted with minuscule adjustments that have taken him thousands of tries to master. he does as you say, and his strides are quick and long. it won't take a genius to see that his facade has crumpled, with the clear agitation that's spreading across his features like a wildfire that devours all in its path.
there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.
he'll change that. every thrum of the golden markings running up and down his body seem to pulse in unison with his heartbeat, which is raring like he's recently returned from the battlefield.
who would've thought he'd so quickly return.
this time, of his own will. he'd be sure that these fools of this world would learn the truth of your paragon. ₊˚ෆ
(a/n) please save me the delulu has returned and iTS NOT LETTING GO
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123
pairing. neuvillette & wriothesley x gn!reader (separate) ★ genre. established relationship au & fluff. ★ wc. 1.2k
synopsis. calling out the fontaine men by their pet names!
contents. pet names (reader's: dear, darling, etc.), lovestruck neuvillette :( , may contain an inaccurate description of the melusine's tail bcs i'm dumb, a really minimal spoiler from the 4.0 archon quest (regarding hydro dragon and rain) in neuvillette's, mention of sedene (the melusine outside neuvie's office), neuvillette just wants his kith >:( , wriothesley might be ooc bcs we all love him despite not knowing him yet, mentions of sigewinne in wrio's, made-up [1] fontaine law and background setting, and an assumption of sigewinne is the one who often treats wrio's injuries(?).
a/n. first, idk who to pull for; either neuvi or wrio bcs i alr have hydro and cryo dps :cries: but srsly, the v4.1 trailer has me on my knees for these two men (in a respectful manner of course).
support banner and animated line dividers by @/cafekitsune on tumblr.
ִ ࣪𖤐 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄
neuvillete would never admit it out loud.
how you left him in awe every time he heard you calling out for his attention—monsieur neuvillette in a formal setting, but instead referring him as neuvie when in private.
something about it had always made neuvillette's chest just a little bit tightened at the way the name rolled off your tongue oh-so-eloquently, and he often found himself staring at your lips a second longer than what everyone would consider as appropriate.
oh, how he would love to peck your lips, feeling them against his, even for a brief moment.
it was an embarrassing thought sitting at the little corner of his mind. he was ashamed at how easily you had him on your mercy.
"neuvie," your voice came out a tad bit softer after seeing him spacing out—in which was totally not a norm to see him staring far ahead and at you, though not until recently.
"are you alright, love?"
he swore he felt his heart dropped. it was a double kill to him, who recently figured out that he loved you more than he initially thought he would. how endearing of you to call him with such names, it was cute. a perfect adjective to describe you.
"nothing, dear," his voice resonated through the room, and you realised how he looked at the perfect weather illuminating his office through the window.
you looked at him back, skeptical as to why the corner of his mouth seemed to form a fine curve, but you shrugged the feeling as soon as it came. maybe he was happy, considering the sunny and chilly weather outside.
and his feeling mattered to you the most.
"monsieur neuvillette," you called him out again.
this time, neuvillette could barely hide the frown that was about to form on his face. why did you call him that? why the sudden change of attitude? he was confused. especially when he felt the soft touches on his hair.
you were patting his head, occasionally fixing his hair as neuvillette slightly leaned in to feel the warmth only you could exude.
"it is about time for today's trial, chief justice. lady furina must have been waiting for you at the opera house," you gently reminded him, feeling the way his shoulders tensed.
oh—how stupid of him, he thought. he finally understood why you called him by his title, there was sedene all along at the door.
the melusine looked at both of you in amusement, he could tell by the way her tail was wagging.
"another minute, dear?" his voice was low enough, seemingly to avoid the melusine's attention as he sighed.
you beamed a small smile at him, making neuvillette felt ten times heavier to let go of you and go to the court. "no, neuvie," you rubbed soft circles at the back of his hand, and neuvillette fought the urge to intertwine his finger with yours.
he fought the urge to kiss you on your lips—his name sounded so precious coming out from you. it actually pained his heart at how irreplaceable you were in his life.
"after the court session is over, we can cuddle all we want, yeah?" you pecked his cheek, and neuvillette thought he could die happily if this was the treatment he would get—a reward worth billions of mora if this was what you gave him from cherishing and loving you.
and he would love to hear and love you forever.
ִ ࣪𖤐 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
inside the fortress of meropide, the only person that could make wriothesley's burdens felt lighter was you, and only you. to see that you enjoyed your time being here—although the fortress was everything except fun and colours—and sometimes helped sigewinne with her infirmary stuff, he felt a part of him was proud at how kind and brave you were.
wriothesley loved looking at you teasing and babying sigewinne. it was another trait that made him clicked with you so well—despite his profession and the countless dangers he might have brought along.
he remembered the first time you insisted to tag along with him to the infamous underwater prison. no one could enter and exit the fortress whenever they wanted, and you managed to prove him wrong. now that your reputation was well-known within the area, it seemed that the law on permitting outsiders to get into the fortress with thorough screening process didn't really seem to be applicable to you.
every garde recognised you. every staff and people and melusine alike—all had acknowledged you in their work space.
so when you introduced yourself as wriothesley's other half, it was understandable that your name made it in the headlines and became the monthly issue from the steambird.
'after all, the duke doesn't really seem to be the lover type, isn't he?'
"hi, handsome," you waved at wriothesley, who seemed to just finish with an interrogation session with one of the criminals. a stack of papers was in his grip.
his eyes widened at the way you called him with that word which often failed to not make his heart thumped against his chest.
"good evening, darling," he scoffed when he felt the way his voice almost cracked. the random terms of endearment you threw at him had always made his actions cut short and his words to be stuck in his throat. "what are you doing here? did i not say to go back home at 5? it is late."
"mhm," you hummed.
pointing at the clipboard in your right hand which wriothesley had realised was there all along, you explained yourself. "was running an errand for sigewinne. the poor nurse had some troubles so i lent a hand or two," you said while tapping wriothesley's shoulder thrice, feeling proud of yourself for contributing a cent around the fortress.
you then involuntarily fixed his tie, still giving him the proud smile you often wore.
wriothesley sent you a soft smile at that, contradicting the multitude of scars littered across his body.
of course his favourite person was the one who was kind enough to help sigewinne—it was as if you silently repaid sigewinne's past deeds of treating his injuries. how could anyone would not love you for that, he thought.
your heart swelled at the sight. your partner was quite soft at heart when he smiled, despite the roughness he portrayed.
you were staring at his face with those sparkles he never knew could exist in one's eyes. it was too much, but wriothesley thought he would just mentally appreciate the pure loving look you gave him.
"this will do. now my man looks dashing as always."
it took him exactly three seconds to understand what you meant. you were fixing his appearance, and he felt his face became a little bit warmer. my man, he unconsciously repeated the words in his mind.
if sigewinne saw the two of you being so lovey dovey in public—well, maybe both of you were done for.
"the gesture is very much appreciated, darling," he chuckled.
"you are very welcome, sir," you replied, mimicking the small chuckles he sent towards you.
"since both of us have already worked overtime, let us grab a bite?" you swung your arm around his, interlocking with the arm that often held you with such gentleness.
"alright," wriothesley gave in to your suggestion, long forgotten where he should be heading before crossing his path with you. "let us go on a date."
✩ — how does he react when someone asks if you two are dating?
✩ — includes: diluc, lyney, scaramouche, xiao x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 294. please reblog !! it really helps me a lot <3
diluc coughs into his fist, looks away, and tries to hide his tinted cheeks before correcting that you’re both just friends. but now that diluc thinks about it, he can understand why others would mistake you two as a couple. though the idea of actually dating you doesn’t really make him uncomfortable. as long as you’re okay with it, maybe you can try things out.
lyney plays it off. or at least, he tries to. he can vividly remember the number of times he spat his tea out due to his two dearest siblings asking him out of the blue if he was dating you or not. he lets out an embarrassed laugh and proceeds to say that no, we’re not dating—not yet.
scaramouche grimaced when he was asked if you guys were dating. it’s not like he’s disgusted by the thought of dating you; in fact, that makes him quite flustered! scaramouche is more disgusted with the fact that someone is asking. why do they care? it’s none of their business. he’ll reply that no, you aren’t dating him. but in the back of his mind, he kind of wishes that he was so that people wouldn’t ask any more questions.
xiao takes a moment to process the question and the whole situation. someone thought that you? and him? are dating? xiao doesn't know how to feel about that. well, yes, you two have acted quite intimately with each other in public on rare occasions, but he didn't really think that people would assume you two were a thing because of it. a quick no, we are not slips out of his mouth, and he immediately grabs your arm to leave the scene. he really needs to sort these things out with you.
pairings: alhaitham, kaveh, kazuha, lyney, scaramouche, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)
content: fluff, modern au, college au, the reader is a sleep-deprived student, correction: everyone in this fic is a sleep-deprived student, cuddling, reader is sick in scara’s, venti makes a cameo in kazuha’s part, reverse comfort in kaveh’s
summary: small scenarios with the genshin boys as your roommates! ♡
a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, so i decided to finally finish it up. i hope you enjoy!
₊˚ପ ALHAITHAM
Tonight, it feels like endless night ebbs and flows into the very core of your being, chilling you with fragments of a glacial atmosphere.
It’s cold.
Even with multiple blankets wrapped around you, you can’t help but shiver, shake like a vibrant autumn leaf in a passing zephyr. Winter is approaching, and unfortunately for you, you may have relished a little too much in the gilded threads of summer warmth that had graced the world a few months prior. For now, you’re unable to stand the gradual freeze that’s beginning to spread throughout your city.
Slumber is tempting. It lures you in, wrapping you in a blanket weaved of starlight and dreams. However, it’s all an illusion. In reality, you’re far from sleep. You know that there’s no way you’ll be able to pass the gateway into the oneiric realm. Not with the sensation of frostbite threatening to consume you whole.
Eventually, you decide to get up. You’re certain that you won’t be able to fall asleep, at least, not without more blankets, so you decide to make your way to Alhaitham’s room to ask if he has any spares.
Although you’d normally feel guilty for rousing someone from slumber, it’s not that late as of right now. Either way, you’re quite certain that your roommate is still wide awake, most likely losing himself amongst the yellowed pages of a verbose book. After all, he always seems to have his nose buried in a complex tome, filled with words that make your brain hurt.
Slowly, you drag yourself out from under the plush covers of your bed. The floorboards groan slightly as you stand, exhaling under the pressure of your footsteps. You make your way down a hallway drowned in shades of midnight, making your way towards the golden light seeping out into the corridor from under the cracks of a closed door.
The door to Alhaitham’s room.
You knock, the sound seemingly echoing down the walls of the hall, repeating in a chorus of onomatopoeia.
A few seconds pass before the door opens to reveal Alhaitham. Strands of silver hair messily frame his face, and yet as the aquamarine hues of his irises meet your gaze, you find that he’s just as dazzling as ever.
“Do you need something?” he asks, his voice as flat and monotonous as always. As usual, your roommate’s front doesn’t betray a single hint of emotion. Not even irritation.
You pause for a moment, still a little intimidated by Alhaitham. Although you’ve been living together for a while now, his apathetic demeanour can be slightly off-putting at times. Nonetheless, you eventually manage to steel your nerves.
“Yeah,” you say. The word comes tumbling out of your mouth clumsily. “Do you happen to have any extra blankets?”
Alhaitham pauses for a moment, seemingly deep in thought.
You hold your breath, hoping that he’ll say yes, and you’ll be able to get this over with.
However, he shakes his head, and you feel your heart drop, shattering into a thousand shards of fragmented ruby.
“Oh,” you sigh, trying your best to hide the dejected expression overtaking your features. “That’s okay. Sorry for bothering you.”
You turn away, ready to head back to your room, but Alhaitham’s voice stops you.
“I think it’s safe to presume you wanted a blanket because you were cold, right?”
It’s a rhetorical question, so you don’t bother to answer it. Instead, you freeze, becoming akin to a statue carved of pale blue ice.
“Then allow me to propose an alternate solution.”
You turn around, meeting Alhaitham’s eyes once more. Lakes of turquoise, typically devoid of emotion, are now filled with a particular spark. You can’t quite determine what it is, but there’s a subtle glimmer — barely visible, but it’s there.
“Why don’t you stay in my room for the night?”
Your eyes widen, and you feel your jaw drop. For a moment, you just stand there, absolutely still and dumbfounded.
Perhaps you had heard Alhaitham wrong. Or maybe your mind is playing tricks on you, making mirages materialize out of nothing. The blank expression painted over your roommate’s features certainly makes you think so.
“Excuse me?” you blink languidly, staring at Alhaitham as if he’ll disappear into thin air if you take your eyes off him.
“I said why don’t you stay in my room for the night?” he repeats nonchalantly, the evening chill seemingly intertwining itself into his tone. His gaze remains fixated on you.
Your mind blanks for a second, each intricate acrylic line of a composition painted over, leaving you with nothing but an empty canvas. As you stand still, a thousand scenarios seem to flash through your head, filling up the blank space with a myriad of thoughts — some pleasant and some unpleasant. However, you soon realize that you don’t have time to weigh all the pros and cons of your decision, as Alhaitham is staring at you intently, awaiting your answer.
“Sure,” you blurt out.
You’re not sure what compels you to accept his proposal. Perhaps it’s your longing for the comfort of shared warmth. Perhaps it’s a result of your inability to say no to others due to a fear of disappointing them. Or perhaps it’s because you’ve grown a lot closer to Alhaitham than you’d care to admit.
Although you’re still slightly intimidated by him, you’re certain that he’d never do anything to harm you. And there are even times where he shows he has your best interests in mind (despite the fact that you were initially under the impression that he cared little for others).
You’re snapped out of your trance of reminiscence as Alhaitham speaks once more.
“Alright,” he says, taking your hand and leading you over to his bed. His grip is firm — not suffocating, but at the same time, not so soft that the connection between the two of you would be easily severed.
Alhaitham’s touch sends butterflies, tinted a colour reminiscent of spring blossoms, dancing within the pit of your stomach. It’s enchanting, and at this rate, you’re not sure how you’ll be able to handle sleeping in the same bed as him.
He allows you to climb into bed first, tucking you in with an unexpected amount of care. You know Alhaitham’s not exactly the cold-hearted jerk many make him out to be, but you didn’t anticipate that he’d be this gentle, his touch akin to the caress of sunlight on a spring day.
After the man ensures that you’re cozy, he lies down beside you, embracing you. As he does so, you feel a wave of heat overwhelm you. To your relief, the frigidness that had once gnawed at your very soul is now gone, but unfortunately, you’re faced with a new problem.
Alhaitham’s actions have flustered you, and to your misfortune, it feels as though crimson embers of embarrassment are bursting into flames far too quickly for your liking.
You’ve solved one issue, but in turn, you’ve accidentally created another.
This is going to be a long night.
₊˚ପ KAVEH
It’s no secret that your roommate is a perfectionist.
Whenever his eyebrows knit up in a jumble of discontent and pools of liquid ruby tinged with sunsets glint with hints of frustration, it becomes obvious what’s going on. He’s spent too long trying to perfect yet another assignment. The bags that seem to perpetually line the undersides of his eyes are dark shadows — serving as an eternal reminder of the man’s exhaustion.
There are times where you find him hunched over his desk, teetering on a thin tightrope, walking a line between the waking world and a wonderland of dreams. Of course, he refuses to succumb to the temptations of a golden slumber time and time again, forcing himself to fixate on his projects until he’s finished and happy with the final product.
Today is one of those days. The cold light that leaks through the cracks beneath the door to Kaveh’s room seeps into the hallway, serving as a warning written in a display of molten opalescence.
Stark white. Cutting through the darkness of deep midnights with ease.
It’s jarring, and when you press your ear to the door and listen carefully, you manage to make out the sound of Kaveh muttering underneath his breath.
You know you have to do something. Now. Before your roommate decides to work himself into a stupor again.
You take a deep breath, inhaling night air reminiscent of the crystalline waters. It’s refreshing, and as you breathe out, a sense of tranquility washes over you.
Steeling yourself, you knock on Kaveh’s door, the sound seemingly reverberating through the corridor in a myriad of echoes.
“[Name]? Is that you?” he asks, his voice ringing out loudly, fragmenting and shattering the quiet ambience.
You hear the sounds of drawers opening and closing, papers rustling, and footsteps falling.
“There’s no point in hiding anything,” you tell your roommate, picturing the distress swirling like nebulae in his vibrant crimson eyes. “I know you’ve been working late again.”
The noises come to a halt, and peace returns to the late night atmosphere once more. Soon, the sound of soft footsteps fills your senses, gradually growing louder in a crescendo until you’re sure that Kaveh is right in front of the door.
Not a second later, it swings open to reveal a sleep-deprived Kaveh clad in pyjamas.
“Alright, I’ll admit it,” he sighs. “You caught me red-handed.”
Silence permeates your senses for a few seconds, but the illusion of stillness is quickly shattered as Kaveh breathes out a sigh.
“I just can’t seem to figure out this one last thing,” he groans, burying his head in his hands. “I seriously can’t take it anymore. It’s driving me insane.”
For a few seconds, his gaze remains averted, staring down at the wooden finish of his desk, tinted a subtle peach under the topaz shades of light spilling from Kaveh’s lamp. If you didn’t know any better, you would have sworn that he had fallen asleep. However, your eyes eventually meet hues of dulled rose, glittering with a faint spark concealed by exhaustion.
“You should rest,” you tell your roommate, cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder. To your relief, he doesn’t flinch or pull away when you touch him. He simply slumps and begins to stand up.
“I suppose you’re right,” he speaks slowly, his voice laced with resignation. “Maybe a short break will help me clear my mind.”
Kaveh walks over to his bed, brushing locks of sunshine away from his eyes. The mattress sinks like quicksand as he lies down and tucks himself under the covers, enveloping him in layers upon layers of plush comfort.
You turn away, switching Kaveh’s lamp off before you head back to the door. However, just as you’re about to leave, Kaveh calls your name.
“[Name],” Kaveh starts, his voice seemingly amplified by the abyssal midnight overtaking your surroundings.
You spin around, only to be met with the sight of Kaveh’s silhouette outlined against backdrops of navy and black, enveloping the world in curtains of phantasmagoric silk.
“Can you stay with me?” he asks. His voice trembles slightly, and he sounds sheepish — almost shy. “It’s just that, if I don’t have you around, I might convince myself to start working again.”
You freeze.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
It takes three seconds for you to fully process Kaveh’s request, and when you do, you feel your heart skip a beat.
“I would be happy to.”
And with Kaveh’s permission, you climb under the covers of his bed with him. He wraps an arm around you. The position feels far too intimate for two roommates who harbour nothing more than platonic feelings for each other, but you decide that that’s a problem for future you to address.
For now, you decide to close your eyes and seek solace in a realm of breathtaking dreamscapes. Finding joy in each cotton candy cloud, each droplet of crystal rain, and each gilded leaf within a fantastical world found far away from reality.
And yet as you drift off to sleep, you find that there’s one thing in the waking world that has become far more tantalizing than anything your imagination could ever conjure: the warmth of Kaveh’s embrace.
₊˚ପ KAZUHA
Golden ribbons of warmth caress your face as you open your eyes to find yourself awake again. A wave of tranquility washes over you, weighing down your eyelids with a serene lullaby — an ode to quiet mornings spent in the solace of your home. You want nothing more than to stay in bed for a few more minutes, but you have classes.
Groggily, you stretch and then pick your phone up from where it’s sitting on your nightstand in order to check the time. The screen lights up with a cold radiance, a stark contrast to the gilded rays of the sun, as you turn it on.
And that’s when all hell breaks loose.
It’s 9:30 a.m., and you’ve already missed the start of your first class. You grimace internally, but you can’t dwell on your feelings for too long. After all, the longer you delay, the more you’ll miss.
You change in record time, pulling on a comfortable hoodie and jeans, grab a few of your belongings, and rush out the door.
The chilly autumn air brushes against your skin as you make your way to class, and the enticing fragrance of sap hits your nose, tantalizing you with a perfume that carries nostalgic memories. In the corners of your vision, you watch as leaves coloured shades of vivid crimson, marigold, and amber swirl in a waltz signaling the end of summer and the beginnings of harsher days. The scenery is beautiful, and if you weren’t in a panic, you would have stopped to admire it. However, you force yourself to ignore the scenes around you, continuing to focus on your primary objective.
When you arrive at the lecture hall, you’re panting. Simple oxygen feels like ambrosia to you, sweet and satisfying, refreshing in a way that it’s never been before. For a few moments, you stand outside the room and catch your breath. With each inhale and exhale, you get closer and closer to finding a rhythm until finally, you’re no longer gasping for air.
Quietly, you walk into class, trying your best to avoid disturbing anyone. Thankfully, nobody seems to notice as you take a seat near the back of the hall, settling down in your seat. Time passes slowly as class continues on, and it almost feels like universal laws operate differently within the small bubble of the room you’re currently sitting in. Everything seems to take an eternity, and you can’t do anything except watch the minutes tick by, each addition of one moving you closer and closer to the end of a mundane lecture.
It feels like the moment will never arrive, but eventually, you’re dismissed. Thankfully, there’s quite a while until you have to go to your next class, so you decide to wander around for a while.
For a while, you stroll aimlessly, eventually finding yourself back outdoors once more. Now, you can truly savour the beauty of your surroundings, relish in the splendor of each flaming leaf that drifts by and each rivulet of tepid light that pierces through the crystalline coolness of the autumn air.
You stand there for a while, simply enjoying a break after a hectic morning.
Until something else — or rather, someone else — catches your eye.
Under the shade of a maple tree stands your roommate, basking in the glory of a crimson waterfall composed entirely of maple leaves dancing gracefully until they hit the ground. His platinum hair is tied back in its usual ponytail, each strand of silken moonlight swaying as a gentle zephyr blows by, and his eyes are a shade of ruby that flawlessly mimics the autumnal landscape.
He’s as breathtaking as ever.
But before you can admire him for long, hues of starglitter and rose petals meet your gaze, and a small smile dances across his lips. Without a word, he walks over to you.
“Running into you here is certainly a pleasant surprise,” he says, his grin widening.
“You say that as if we don’t already live together,” you remark, laughing a little.
He chuckles, the sound as light and airy as autumn winds swirling leaves around in a finale of farewells. The lighthearted atmosphere is truly euphoric, especially after such a stressful morning.
Of course, good things never last for long.
“Good morning, Kazuha. Good morning, [name]. How’s my favourite couple?” a cheery voice asks. In the edges of your vision, you see a figure donning twin braids of sapphire and turquoise approaching. It’s Venti — one of Kazuha’s friends.
Both you and Kazuha freeze, a frigidity crystallizing the ambience into icy fractals. And yet at the same time, you can feel your face beginning to heat up.
Couple?
Before you can clear up the misunderstanding, Kazuha speaks.
“Good morning to you too, Venti,” he says. “We’re doing well, but I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” Kazuha subtly averts his gaze, staring at the ground, but you swear you can see a blush dawning on his cheeks in shades of sunset. “[Name] and I aren’t a couple.”
“Oh really?” Venti asks teasingly, giggling in a manner that sounds almost maniacal, “then why are they wearing your hoodie?”
You look down, and sure enough, the top you chose to wear today was Kazuha’s. He had allowed you to borrow it a few days ago when you complained about the chilly autumn weather, and you had forgotten to return it. Apparently you were in such a rush this morning that you pulled it on without a second thought.
“It was an accident,” you blurt out, wanting to clear up the misconception as soon as possible. “I woke up late, and I was in a hurry.”
“Uh huh,” Venti nods, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Sure. I believe you.”
“No, seriously. We’re not a couple,” you reiterate, sighing as Venti laughs quietly.
“Whatever you say,” he says. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.”
Without another word, Venti skips off, jubilantly humming to himself. And now, you’re alone with Kazuha, left to deal with the awkward aftermath of Venti’s assumptions.
“That was… interesting,” you remark.
Kazuha nods.
“I hope you didn’t feel too uncomfortable,” he says, smiling at you gently, a light blush still coating his cheeks. Although you’ll never admit it out loud, you find him quite cute when he’s flustered. Venti would have a field day if he knew you found your roommate so adorable.
“I’m fine,” you reassure Kazuha, “and I’ll return your hoodie to you as soon as possible,” you add.
However, to your surprise, Kazuha shakes his head.
“You can keep it if you want,” he tells you.
“Really?”
Kazuha chuckles.
“Really,” he assures you. “As long as you don’t mind being mistaken for a couple, that is. I know I certainly don’t.”
₊˚ପ LYNEY
“Lyney, if I remember correctly, you told me you perform magic as a sort of side hustle, right?” you ask your roommate.
The question comes from out of the blue, but you want nothing more than to learn about the man you’ve recently grown to be infatuated with. Besides, he’ll probably think nothing of it; it’s only natural for someone to want to get to know their roommate.
“Yeah, I guess you’d be right,” he responds, averting his gaze from his phone and glancing at you. “Although I’d say it’s more about putting on a good show than the money.”
Lilac hues make your mind go blank as you make eye contact, enchanting you with oceans full of stardust and sunshine alike. Lilac. It’s a colour you’ve come to adore. Before meeting Lyney, it was a shade known to you as the border between night and day, mixed into compositions of dawning sunrises and fading sunsets. But now, it’s synonymous with magic and mystery, and it’s all thanks to your charming roommate.
“Oh, I see,” you mutter.
You’re surprised that your voice doesn’t end up shaking. Simply looking into Lyney’s eyes is causing your heart to beat rapidly, igniting crimson sparks of giddiness and glee with each thump.
Perhaps this is what it feels like to be in love.
“Why do you ask?” Lyney inquires, tilting his head slightly. “Are you interested in seeing a trick?”
Lyney flashes a charming smile at you — a smile embodying the enigmatic charms of various twilight hues. He reaches his hand up to brush the few strands of dusky hair that had fallen in front of his eyes away, and somehow, the subtle action makes you find him all the more attractive.
“I would love to,” you say, “if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
You wait with bated breath, feeling the whole world still as you await Lyney’s response. The carefree atmosphere solidifies into something denser, heavier, as tension begins to build.
“Well, I usually don’t do private shows like this, especially not out of the blue,” he remarks.
For a second, you feel your smile fall.
“But since it’s you, I can try,” Lyney says.
A grins dances upon your lips once more, and the elation from before comes back in full force. Unbridled adoration swirls through your heart, taking down each and every glacial barrier in a roaring tempest of rose and vermillion. With every day that passes, you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into the clutches of romantic fantasies.
“Thank you.”
With that, Lyney rushes to his room. A few seconds later, he returns with some props and a top hat, midnight black adorned with velvety scarlet and magenta detailing, perched upon his head.
He performs for you, and it’s absolutely enamouring. His prowess is incredible, and it’s clear he’s enjoying putting on a show for you. The entire performance is interesting, captivating. However, it’s Lyney’s last act that stands out to you most of all.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what my grand finale will be,” Lyney announces with a fiery sort of flamboyance. It’s amusing because you’re the only audience member, but at the same time, slightly endearing.
He takes his hat off, reaching his hand into the void within. Slowly, he pulls something out.
The verdant green of a stem lined with thorns appears first. Then you catch sight of luscious leaves. And lastly, the delicate petals of a rose enter your line of vision. They’re tinted a vibrant purple, reminiscent of sparkling amethysts.
“For you,” Lyney says, handing you the flower.
Upon closer examination, you note that the rose is unblemished. It’s perfect. You wonder if Lyney put any thought into picking out this particular flower, but you brush the thought off. Embers of newly-kindled feelings of romance brush against your skin.
You’re flustered.
Flustered beyond measure.
Awkwardly, you take the rose from Lyney, your heart fluttering as your fingers accidentally bump against his. His skin is soft, and his touch is tantalizing. You wouldn’t mind feeling his hand in yours.
“Thank you,” you manage to whisper, averting your gaze and looking anywhere but into the very lavender irises that will never fail to enchant you. “It’s stunning.”
“A stunning flower for a stunning person,” Lyney says. The sincerity lacing his tone doesn’t go unnoticed, and you have to stop yourself from melting on the spot. “Do you know what the purple rose represents?”
You shake your head as sudden curiosity and cupid’s final arrow strike simultaneously.
He leans in, moving so close that you can feel strands of silken platinum tickle your skin. A soft breath lightly brushes against your ear as he opens his mouth to speak.
“Love at first sight.”
₊˚ପ SCARAMOUCHE
Weak beams of winter light filter through the curtains of the window beside your bed, illuminating your room with a radiance tinted pale blue. With a foggy mind, you make your way over to the window, leaving the warmth and comfort of your covers to do so. The chill pokes at your skin like a thousand miniature needles of ice, and yet you continue on.
As soon as velvety veils of fabric fall away from glass panes, glacial sunshine spills through. The panoramic scenery that welcomes you is a glazed-over landscape, thick blankets of pure white sprinkled with glimmers of stardust. Even the branches of the tall evergreen trees surrounding your home are dusted with powdered opal. Nothing is free from the frigid caress of winter, and you’re suddenly reminded of this fact as you start coughing.
Oh. You’re sick.
You blink slowly, an unbearable headache making itself known by jumbling your thoughts into nothing more than incoherence. Begrudgingly, you decide to lie back down, pulling a few blankets over you in order to stay warm. However, the layer of plush protection isn’t enough to shield you, as shivers continue to wrack your body.
For a while, you just lie there, huddled and trying to cling onto any remaining heat, any remaining comfort. You close your eyes, feeling absolutely helpless against the coolness that threatens to permeate the very essence of your being. The world around you begins to become distant as grogginess and discomfort plague you, but soon enough, you’re snapped out of your haze.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The last thing you want to do is answer the door.
“[Name]? Are you in there?” your roommate, Scaramouche, calls. As usual, irritation laces his tone, but there’s something new this time. Maybe you’re delusional, but it almost sounds like concern.
“Yeah. Come in,” you manage to respond.
Your voice is unsurprisingly hoarse, and you have to strain in order to be heard. However, in the end, it seems that you were just loud enough because seconds later, the door opens with a click. In its wake, a man with hair reminiscent of desolate midnights walks in. Soon enough, you find your gaze meeting hues of deep twilight fading into a paler shade of periwinkle akin to the colour of forget-me-nots.
“Wow, you look awful,” Scaramouche remarks bluntly, examining you.
You feel yourself shrink under his gaze.
“Can you not?” you shoot back, mustering the strength to glare at him between coughs and sniffles. “I'm kind of dying here.”
Scaramouche scoffs.
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone,” he says, turning away and walking out the door.
Once again, silence envelops the atmosphere, ebbing and flowing throughout the greys and blues of an early winter morning in soundless waves. Although you’re thankful for the serene ambience, you also feel awfully lonely now that your roommate is gone. All you can do now is stare blankly at the wall in front of you and entertain yourself with your own thoughts.
Time becomes a blur, and yet it stretches on as well. It feels like you’re trapped in a sort of limbo — suspended in a mundane reality without any sort of respite or the slightest idea of when you’ll finally find your refuge.
That is, until you hear the hinges of the door creak once more.
Scaramouche is back.
You look up. To your surprise, the glints of starlight that dance within his indigo eyes show a rare sort of softness, and he’s carrying a bowl of soup.
Without a word, he sets the bowl on your bedside table, staring at you expectantly.
“Is that for me?” you ask.
Scaramouche groans, rolling his eyes.
“Who did you think it was for?” he says, averting his gaze.
A small smile dances across your lips. Although your roommate doesn’t want to show that he cares for you, you’re beginning to realize that he’s looking out for you in his own way.
“Thank you,” you respond. However, just as you’re about to reach for the soup, you’re attacked by another fit of coughs.
Scaramouche’s eyes fixate on you once more, and he sighs.
“Do you need me to spoon feed you or something?” Although it sounds like he’s mocking you, you can tell he’s serious to some extent.
“Do you want to feed me?” you say, trying to muster a playful tone. Even though you’re sick, teasing Scaramouche is as fun as ever.
“I will if it means you’ll shut up,” he mutters, taking the bowl carefully and scooping up a spoon of the soup.
With caution and a shocking amount of attentiveness, he lifts the spoon to your lips, and you open your mouth. To your surprise, the soup is actually quite tasty. You didn't expect your roommate to be such a good cook.
“How was it?” Scaramouche asks after you swallow. Not a hint of emotion shows through the veils of apathy he’s crafted as he awaits your response.
“It was amazing,” you remark genuinely. “I’d love to try some more of your cooking, and… thanks for taking care of me.”
Scaramouche looks away, but as he does, you notice a colour reminiscent of delicate rose petals rising to his cheeks, tinting porcelain akin to the snow outside a vivid shade.
“Don’t mention it.”
₊˚ପ XIAO
Procrastination is every student’s worst enemy, and you’re no different.
You had spent the past few days putting off your latest assignments and neglecting your studies more than you’d care to admit. It’s not that you didn’t want to work and study, but every time you tried to start on something, you’d feel put off by the copious amounts of labour you’d have to put in. And unfortunately, now you’re reaping the consequences of the seeds you had previously sowed.
It’s currently 1 a.m., and all you can see outside the window is ebony fragmented by the occasional streetlight or polychromatic star. Your eyelids are beginning to droop of their own volition, but you force yourself to stay awake. You have something important due later today, and unfortunately, you’ve barely even started on it.
So you have no choice but to continue on, allowing yourself to fall into the treacherous grasp of sleep-deprivation all because of your poor decision-making skills.
The minutes seem to count down all too quickly as you toil, yet at the same time, the mundane assignment makes every second feel like an eon. It’s a paradoxical distortion of the universe’s concepts, but it’s something you’ve grown far too accustomed to in your time as a student. Panic and hopelessness set in more and more with every tick of the clock, and eventually, you lose all sense of time, burying yourself in a pile of work.
The next time you look up, you notice that it’s well past your first scheduled break time, and you’re absolutely exhausted.
You stand up, stretching and relishing the sensation of being able to move your aching limbs after hours of sitting in the same position, mulling over boring assignments. However, your momentary respite is ruined, as it isn’t long before the creaking of a door pulls you out from the temporary euphoria that had taken over your mind.
“Hey,” a calm voice utters. It’s melodic like a beautiful song you wouldn’t mind hearing on repeat. “Are you alright?”
You turn around, and as expected you’re met with the sight of your roommate. Honeyed eyes filled with a dandelion warmth shimmer when met with the dim incandescent glow of your desk lamp, and locks of seafoam frame his pale face. Even though his hair is messy, and there are visible bags under his eyes, Xiao looks as stunning as ever.
“I’m fine,” you say, miraculously stringing together a couple of words despite your exhaustion.
“You’ve been up all night,” Xiao observes, glancing at your messy desk — a testament to the few hours you had been chipping away at your work. Somehow in that time, you’ve managed to make it look as though some sort of wild tempest had ravaged your room.
“You’re saying that as if you don’t stay up all the time,” you shoot back.
You flinch. Your tone is harsh and dripping with venom, but you hadn’t meant your words in that way. They were from a place of concern, but it seems that Xiao understands.
“That’s true,” he remarks, “but I’m not as keen on working myself to death as you are.”
A second passes.
Then you realized that you may have gotten a little bit carried away due to your momentary burst of energy — a rush of exhilaration prompted by a sense of urgency.
“Oh.”
Xiao sighs.
“You need a break,” he says, hesitantly walking over to you and intertwining your fingers with his.
His actions surprise you. Most of the time, Xiao avoids touch, but now, he’s holding your hand. The tepidness of Xiao’s skin on yours causes lucidity to wash over you. Suddenly, you feel more aware of your surroundings.
Your roommate pulls you out the door, exiting your dorm swiftly before you can refuse. Truthfully, you wouldn’t have denied him his demand anyway. Although Xiao seems like a tough person on the outside, his heart is forged of silvery moonbeams — glittering lights that illuminate the world with a subtle phosphorescence, not quite as glaring as rays of sunlight, but equally as bright, nonetheless. As a result, you’ve grown to develop a soft spot for him.
When you exit the building, the first thing you notice is the crisp, fresh air. After staying cooped up in your room for so long, it’s relieving to breathe in the liquified stardrops dissolved within the night atmosphere. Your head clears up nearly instantaneously, and finally, you feel a sense of peace wash over you.
“Feeling better?” Xiao asks, noticing the change in your expression immediately.
He’s usually not the brightest when it comes to interpreting emotions, so your prior distress must have been extremely obvious. Nonetheless, you brush off your embarrassment and swallow your pride, nodding to reassure Xiao that yes, this is helping, and yes, you’d like to stay here with him for a while longer.
Xiao seems to get what you’re trying to convey, so he continues walking, leading you under the gold-lacquered light of the lamps lining the path before you. Right now, it feels as though your hearts are connected, and for once, you’re under the impression that Xiao’s let down his walls.
You know that once your midnight escapades cease, you’ll have to face a world of pain, but perhaps it’s worth it.
After all, exhaustion is temporary, but maybe, just maybe, this lavender haze will endure forevermore.
thank you for reading!! if you liked this, i’d really appreciate it if you reblogged this fic.
contains !! just dialogues of gn reader. angst/comfort?? i think
synopsis !! thinking about servant and master where it's so obvious you're both in love but you can't bring yourself to cross the line and it hurts him sm—
+ + +
D I L U C
He's frustrated, pacing around as you desperately try to explain.
"Master Diluc, you must understand why–"
"Just Diluc."
"But Master Diluc–"
"How many times must I tell you, (Name)?" He turns towards you, a scowl on his lips as his voice rises. He breathes heavily before his shoulders lower, relaxing, and his face changes to that of hurt.
A quiet heartache.
"How many times must I hear you call me that? We've been friends for so long. I've loved you for so long. Can't I be more than just that to you. . .?" He looks down on the ground, unable to meet your gaze.
You feel your lips part, heart aching. How could you dare?
". . . Diluc," You whisper and his eyes snap towards you, hopeful, as your hand makes its way to cup his cheek, "You are already more than just that to me."
"Then allow me to be with you." He begs quietly.
"You know why I can't." You sob, feeling his own warm hands cupping your cheeks.
"Please, (Name)."
"Don't."
"Please,"
". . . I have to go help Adelinde turn off the gas lamps. Please get some rest, Master Diluc."
+ + +
A Y A T O
"Look at this, (Name)," He states harshly, stomping into his office as you trail behind, helplessly explaining, "Look."
Ayato roughly gestures to the pile of papers on his desk. Each in beautiful stationery, stamped cleanly.
"Marriage proposals. Each and everyone of them, I've rejected. I did this for us." He turns to you, a look of hurt in his eyes.
"Lord Kamisato, you know why–"
"You didn't use to call me that. I was Ayato. I was-"
"-That was when the Kamisato household was falling apart! It's different now and you know that-!" You cut in.
"It is different! Now the Kamisato household has the power and influence. If you marry me, I will take down every obstacle in our way."
Silence. He stares at you from across the dark office, only moonlight filtering in to highlight his baby blue hair. You know he's desperate, having danced around the topic for ages, but how could you be the clan's weakness? You can see how everyone would talk— how history would talk about it.
'Such a fine bachelor yet he chose a mere servant. Is there something wrong with the clan?'
'He was seduced. Held down by a childhood friend. You can't even trust a servant.'
'The clan had only recently gained its influence, yet it's falling apart again, all because of some—'
"Ayato," You try to hold back tears. You know it's unfair to him if you use this card. "If you love me, then please— don't make me do this to the clan. Don't make me do this to you."
He looks defeated. Shoulders slumped, tired, as he brings up a hand to rest on his forehead. Looking away from you, he sighs, "Had I known it would be like this, I never would have taken you in as my servant."
character m.list || ko-fi
note !! nothing hits differently than men with everything except the love of their life *shrugs* anyway my links have been weird lately idk why so hopefully this story posts without issues
SYNOPSIS: it’s always been him- stupidly perfect and handsome Alhaitham who you saw as the bane of your academic achievements. Three years later and now so much has changed. He misses you. He misses your endless bickering and meaningless fights. Why did you change so much? It’s a mystery he makes up his mind to resolve.
CHARACTERS: Alhaitham, gossip circle consisting of Kaveh, Tighnari, and Lisa + the rest of the Sumeru cast
TAGS: heavy angst w/fluff, academic burnout, burnt-out gifted kid, mild profanity, gn reader, reader is briefly mentioned to be shorter than Alhaitham, toxic family dynamics, 15.7k+ word count
NOTES: college decisions and my experiences from the past two years really compelled me to write this. If you’re going through burnout, know that you’re not alone and that you can do this.
this took me almost half a year to finish wtf
NEXT | LAST
There’s a comet that crosses Sumeru’s skies only once in a lifetime.
Alhaitham had heard some Rtawahsit students discussing it the other day. They were practically buzzing with excitement over the news of its reappearance.
“Isn’t this the perfect opportunity?”
“How lucky are we to be able to witness it?”
“Even our professors are excited about it!”
Alhaitham couldn’t care less. The phenomena of celestial events, while dazzling, are easily explained by science. It’s not like they were anything special either. At their heart, they’re composed of ordinary materials- rock, dust, water, and ice, plus other chemicals.
He puts it out of his mind until he’s rudely awoken one night by loud noises outside the window. A flash of annoyance runs through him as he gets up and looks out to glare at the crowd of students passing through. A glance at their berets tells him they’re Rtawahsit students. They’re trying their best to be quiet, but when it’s practically an entire Darshan on the move, that becomes a difficult task.
It seems as if he’s not the only one that was woken up. Other familiar faces are peeking through cracked-open windows. Lisa, Cyno, and Tighnari all yawn while watching the crowd of students pass by before looking at each other and following them. Kaveh, who has just woken up from his spot across the room, gives Alhaitham one last look before leaving.
Alhaitham closes the window and flops back onto his bed. He covers his ears with his pillow and closes his eyes, attempting to fall back asleep. He never cared for what other people thought or did, so why should he blindly follow the crowd? He wasn’t even curious anyway.
But for some strange reason, he can’t seem to fall asleep. He tosses and turns, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, before finally getting up to put his restless mind at ease.
It’s easy to figure out where everyone has gone. All he has to do is follow the sounds of chatter. It leads him to the top of the Divine Tree the city is built upon. There, Rtawahsit students are busy setting up their telescopes while others have pen and paper at their disposal for note-taking. Professors guide said students while those from other Darshans watch on in curiosity and gaze at the sky in anticipation.
Tighnari and the others beckon him over. He squeezes himself into the secluded corner they claimed for themselves, poking Kaveh with his limbs intentionally in the process. To his surprise, you’re there too. You lean against Lisa’s arm and shoot him a little glare that lacks any real hate before turning back to the sky, glaring at him when he decides to sit in front of you and block your view.
“Look!” shouts a student. “It’s started!”
Almost immediately, everybody goes silent. Only the sounds of birds and wildlife can be heard, along with the quiet breathing of everyone searching wildly for it.
(He’s acutely aware of the warm puffs of air that tickle the back of his neck when you exhale. It shouldn’t be this distracting, but it is. Is this your way of getting back at him?)
There’s an excited gasp from a girl with her telescope. She wildly gestures toward the sky and Alhaitham sees a bright speck of light out of the corner of his eye. Several smaller meteors zip through the sky, but everybody’s attention is on the largest one. It outshines all the other stars in the sky as it speeds by, heating up into a white-hot glow and leaving a glittering trail of blue stardust behind. It is a star not of this world, speeding onward toward its destination- toward something greater.
“Look,” he hears Lisa whisper. He briefly tears his attention from the sky to see her lean toward you. “Make a wish.”
Alhaitham sees you close your eyes for a moment before opening them again. What did you just wish for?
It’s gone in just a few minutes, heading toward the horizon until not even a pinprick of its light can be seen anymore. The sky is now dark again. With the main event over, most people begin getting up to return to their rooms. His eyes linger on your form, now walking away. Lisa’s voice from earlier repeats in his head.
“Make a wish.”
It’s a childish belief not rooted in reason- he knows that. But for just a second, he closes his eyes and makes a wish.
He met you at the start of his first year.
It’s too loud here. I want to go home already.
From his seat in the back of the room, he watches as spots gradually fill up as the start time draws nearer. Much to his delight, everybody leaves his spot in the back of the classroom alone, instead opting to sit toward the front.
That is until someone sits down in the row in front of him. He looks up from the pages of his book, slightly annoyed. Curses, now he couldn’t be by himself anymore. But they leave him alone and keep to themselves as the professor walks in and introduces himself and the class, so he tolerates it.
There’s a light tap on his desk. He looks up to see you watching him expectantly. He’s able to get his first good look at you now. Your Akademiya uniform is a little too big on you and the sleeves drape over your hands. Your green hat sits lopsidedly on your head and you have the air of a starry-eyed and enthusiastic first-year student.
“Yes?”
“The professor told us to introduce ourselves to those around us,” you explain. “I’m (Name).”
“Alhaitham. Pleased to meet you.”
You nod in response and turn back around. Your professor is explaining the course and handing the syllabus out, but your mind wanders toward the guy sitting behind you whom you’ve just met.
He’s cute, you think to yourself. In like, a little kid or puppy kind of way. He’s still a little short and scrawny- wait, how old is he anyway? Don’t tell me he’s one of those child prodigies that got in at a super young age… Or maybe he’s just a late bloomer, who knows?
A few weeks later, the results of your first test roll around. The 98 scribbled and circled in red ink at the top of the paper makes you nod in satisfaction. It’s indicative of a good start, but when you take a look at the board in front of the class, you see someone has gotten a perfect score.
And it turns out the culprit himself sits right behind you.
You glare at the 100% in red ink at the top of his page as if it has personally offended you. As if to further insult you, there was a small “good job!” written in the margins by the professor that you didn’t have on your paper.
“A 98? Good, but not perfect. Perhaps you should have studied more,” he nonchalantly remarks after seeing yours. Your eye twitches in irritation.
Oh, it is so on.
From that day onward, you swore to yourself that you would beat Alhaitham, no matter what it took. Even if it meant sleepless nights spent hunched over your notes and textbooks, they were all a price you were willing to pay to prove that you were the undisputed best.
Soon after, you don’t see Alhaitham in class anymore. His seat behind you is left unoccupied and you hear rumors that he opted for self-study instead- whatever that was. Despite that, he still gets top marks in everything, only serving to annoy you and spur you onward.
However, you still see him at the library, and frequently at that. It’s somewhat surprising, considering that the Akasha Terminal has the same function and is more convenient. As a result, the library is mostly empty save for the few students that are there to study materials that aren’t entered into the Akasha’s database. You’re there because you prefer the quiet, focused environment of the library to your dorm, which despite the Akademiya and its students' almost religious devotion to academics, can get a little too rowdy for your liking at times. Plus, you prefer the feeling of a physical book in your hands over its digitized counterpart in the Akasha. It makes it easier to take notes and learn that way.
Recently, you’ve found a spot in the library that you’ve taken a liking to. It’s located in the back and obscured by bookshelves, giving you some much-needed privacy while you study and it’s located by a window, allowing for ample natural light.
But apparently, someone else has already claimed it, unbeknownst to you.
“This is my spot.”
You don’t even look up from your book. The voice alone was a dead giveaway as to who was speaking.
“And? I didn’t see your name on it.”
Alhaitham sits at the seat across from you, purposefully spreading his books and other materials across the desk to push yours off to the side. A satisfied smirk twitches at the corners of his lips when he sees your eyes narrow in irritation.
“Are you here just to bother me?”
“If I wanted to bother you, I’d find other ways to do it.”
You huff in annoyance and turn the page. He watches you over the top of his book with intrigue as you alternate between reading and taking notes.
“... Will you quit staring at me like that? It’s distracting.”
“Oh? So you’re admitting that I’m a distraction?”
“You-!”
A sharp hiss to be quiet from a librarian passing by silences you both temporarily. You glare at him accusingly, which he merely brushes off.
There’s a reluctant compromise that arises between you after that. Every day after class, you would meet at the same spot in the library to study. You would sit across from each other and work independently from each other until it was time to go, where you’d then say your goodbyes before heading your separate ways. Rinse and repeat and that was what your average day looked like.
“So, what’s up with that thing between you and (Name)?”
You pause from your studying after overhearing that line and look up. Across the clearing are Alhaitham and a blond-haired man. Kaveh, if you recall his name correctly.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply,” replies Alhaitham.
“Is there some sort of competition between you two? Whenever I see you guys, you’re basically at each other’s throats over test scores and stuff.”
“There is no such competition. That would be a pointless waste of my time and energy.”
The urge to throw your book at his head across the clearing is strong, but you’ll settle for Kaveh giving him a doubtful expression.
“You say that and yet you’ve been putting more work into your studies than ever.”
“That’s none of your business.”
But for all your efforts, you can’t seem to catch up to him. He was always one step- or rather, one point- ahead of you. He’d always be there, subtly rubbing his achievements right in your face even though the difference is practically negligible at least half of the time.
It gets to the point where you begin to rant about your troubles to Lisa.
“Can you believe this guy? It makes me wonder if he’s a sadist of some sort that gets a kick out of annoying me.”
You’re sitting outside in one of the many gazebos around the Akademiya. Despite studying under a different Darshan, you quickly became friends with her.
She laughs lightly at your words.
“To me, it sounds like your poor heart is troubled! Shall doctor Lisa perform a checkup on you?”
You swat her hand away.
“Don’t play with me like that. And you’re not even an Amurta student!”
You hear footsteps coming down the pathway and speak of the devil, the topic of your conversation is walking toward you, his book in hand as always. You watch him out of the corner of your eye. He meets your gaze and holds it for several long, agonizing seconds before looking forward again and disappearing out of sight. You shudder and look away, Lisa chuckling lightly at your actions.
“Asshole,” you grumble. “What’s his problem? And did you see how cold his eyes were? Makes me wonder if the rumors of him having a heart of ice are true…”
Lisa hesitates at that.
“I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, (Name).”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
She purses her lips and looks off to the side.
“It’s hard to explain, even for me. But you’ll see and come to understand in due time how acutely aware he is of the emotions of those around him, especially those he is close to.”
You think you understand the meaning of her words a few weeks later when the results of a particularly rough test greet you.
75%
Damn it, you think before roughly shoving the papers into your bag, away from the prying eyes of your classmates. I can’t falter here now. I still have so much more to do.
“I can tutor you if you’d like. I don’t offer this to just anyone, so I’d advise you to consider it,” Alhaitham says in the library later that day. You know that most people would kill for this opportunity and you weren’t blinded by jealousy to the point where you couldn’t see the benefit of his offer.
But your pride prevents you from accepting it.
“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’d rather do this myself.”
Another time, Alhaitham has to get up at a time when he should be asleep. Earlier that day, he had left a book of his behind and forgotten about it until now, leaving him to search the now-dark and empty halls of the Akademiya for where it might be.
He happens to pass by the House of Daena on the way and sees a solitary lamp lit in the back corner where he usually frequents. Out of sheer curiosity, he steps inside to see there’s a familiar figure hunched over the desk, clearly fast asleep with piles upon piles of books and notes stacked around them.
Alhaitham gazes down at you with his ever-impassive eyes, silently wondering what to do next. A cold gust of air blows through the library and he shivers slightly. He looks down at your exposed arms, then at his jacket, before taking it off and draping it over your form. Catching a cold would serve you no good and you’d most likely return it to him later tomorrow.
Before he leaves, his curiosity gets the better of him and he takes a quick peek at your notes.
His eyes widen ever so slightly. Much of the material scattered around your desk was far ahead of what you were and needed to be learning. Did you borrow these books and notes from upperclassmen? The handwriting is a mix of yours and someone else’s… He doesn’t see the point in you doing so- it’s all just unnecessary work, in his opinion. Either way, it’s none of his business and you can do as you please, but Alhaitham can’t help but wonder if you were doing all of this just to stay ahead- to keep up or even surpass him.
He leaves and you wake up soon after to something warm and soft covering your shoulders. It’s a standard Akademiya-issued jacket for the fall and winter terms. It’s way too big on you and the sleeves completely cover your hands. Curiously, you pull it tighter around your form. It smells nice- like old books and coffee- and you suddenly realize who it belongs to. Your face suddenly flushes and it’s not from the warmth of the jacket.
Alhaitham-!
The next day, Alhaitham arrives at his usual spot in the library. You’re sitting across from him as usual and interestingly refuse to make eye contact with him.
Sumeru’s climate has always been temperate, but the days are getting longer and warmer now. You’ve finally shed your winter uniform for your spring one and with the end of the year rapidly approaching comes major tests. The library is the most packed it's ever been with students everywhere cramming last-minute. It’s rare to find an empty table now, but thankfully your spot in the back with Alhaitham is still left unoccupied. If not, Alhaitham’s cold glare is more than enough to scare them away.
For one of your classes, it’s a project instead of a test. You have the option to choose the type of project, but for some stupid reason, your professor was still assigning partners instead of being able to choose.
“And (Name), let’s see… hmm, I’ll pair you up with Alhaitham. How does that sound?”
Your blood runs cold and you hear your classmates snicker around you. You want to scream at the prospect of it. Sumeru would sooner freeze over before the two of you cooperate and he knows it. You catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye, daring you to say no.
You swallow your pride and nod. The tips of your ears burn and at that moment, you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.
“... That sounds fine.”
How humiliating.
Later that day in the library, he’s even more infuriating than normal, if that’s even possible. His face betrays nothing but you can hear the smugness dripping from his voice and mannerisms. His arms crossed in front of his chest, the way he would subtly look down on you with that know-it-all gaze… it all made you want to punch his (handsome) face.
“Don’t fall behind now,” he says once you’ve finally settled on a project.
“Let’s see if you can even keep up with me.”
Your project is relatively straightforward but involves a lot of cooperation between you two. As you work, it becomes an all-too-common sight to see you arguing everywhere you go, much to the irritation of others.
“I’m telling you, this character has to be symbolic of rebirth! Why else would we see it so concentrated in scripts that were dated toward the end of that civilization?”
“You seem to be forgetting that this has also been seen elsewhere. Besides, there are reasons to believe that it means something else.”
“What, did it get lost in translation? If you think you’re so smart, then go ahead and enlighten me.”
You glare at him as he sips his coffee (with milk and two sugars, you note. Just the way he likes it).
“God, can they just kiss already?” grumbles Kaveh from where he sits across the room. Lisa and Tighnari sitting at the same table nodded in agreement.
“Meeting up to work outside of class is normal, but over lunch? Sounds like a date to me,” complains Tighnari while not-so-subtly eyeing the way you animatedly bicker with him.
“Hey, isn’t this Alhaitham’s treat as well?” asks Kaveh. Tighnari’s ears twitch and perk up at his question. He glances at the both of you- Alhaitham just paused to ask if you’d like a refill of your tea, and you said yes- before groaning.
“It sure looks like it…”
Lisa decides to take matters into her own hands.
“Are you two arguing or flirting?” she asks in a loud voice.
“Arguing!” you retort. Alhaitham merely rolls his eyes and steals one of your samosas while you aren’t looking.
“I saw that! Give it back!”
“Too late.”
Two months, lots of bickering, and lots of coffee later, you present the culmination of your work to the class. For all the headaches and lost sleep you had to endure, your efforts are handsomely rewarded with a perfect score and rare compliments from your professor. And for that alone, it was well worth everything you went through.
“Good job. It was a rewarding experience working with you. I daresay that our arguments aside, we make for a decent team.”
You look up to see Alhaitham.
“Oh? A rare compliment from the stoic and sharp-tongued man himself?”
“Don’t make me retract my words.”
“Ouch, how cold of you.”
When you return to your dorm later that night, there’s a note addressed to you from Lisa.
I overheard one of your professors talking about you and Alhaitham with someone else today- Professor Behnam, I think that was his name? I’m fairly sure this was after you guys presented because they mentioned that briefly. I wrote this down in a hurry as they were speaking, but here’s what he said:
They complement each other perfectly. While they both have unmatched erudition and wit, one has the creativity and uninhibited ambition the other tends to lack. However, he is more pragmatic and logical. Despite their differences, they make for a perfect team.
They will surely be among some of the best scholars the Akademiya has seen in a long time.
You end your first year tied for the top of the class with him.
“I’m home!”
“Welcome home, (Name)! How were your last few weeks at the Akademiya?”
Your parents’ home is as warm and welcoming as always. The house has been freshly cleaned and is practically shining. They take your bags and usher you into the kitchen, where your favorite dishes are sitting on the kitchen table, freshly cooked for dinner with steam still rising from them.
“It’s been fine,” you say. “Stressful, but also enjoyable. I like my classes and I get along with my classmates and professors.”
“How are your grades? Have they been finalized yet?”
You nod and beam them with pride.
“Ended the year at the top of the class.”
Your parents’ eyes widen and they clap excitedly.
“That’s our child!”
“As brilliant and talented as always!”
“Good, keep going! Remember to study for money!”
“I will!”
Your mother leans in close and clasps your hand in hers. “After these four years, you should continue your education and become a sage! Maybe even work your way up and become the next Grand Sage!”
You balk at the prospect of it.
“A-A sage? Mom, there are tons of talented people in the Akademiya- that’s where the best of the best go to study! The chances that I’ll make it to that point are slim!”
Your father clicks his tongue and shakes his head.
“Nonsense!” he exclaims. “You ended this year at the top of your class, you know. Besides, you inherited the intelligence of both your parents- I’d imagine that this would be a doable task for you. Also, imagine how amazing it would be if you were to become a sage! You’d be the first one in the family! Wouldn’t that be such an achievement for us?”
“That’s not even true! There was someone else who tied with me for the top of the class as well and if I’m being honest, he has a better shot at it than me!”
Your mom’s eyes sharpen and you instantly regret saying that.
“He? So… a guy, huh?”
You mentally brace yourself for a barrage of questions.
“What’s his name? What’s he like? How smart is he? Is he good enough for you? Does he have-”
“Dear, stop it,” your father says. “Look, you’re overwhelming them.”
You sigh and shake your head. “For starters, his name is Alhaitham-”
“Alhaitham? I’ve heard that name somewhere before… wait, I remember now!” exclaims your father. “His grandmother was a Ksharewar scholar. His mother was a renowned Vahumana scholar and his father was a mentor in Haravatat.”
“Was?” you ask. Your father bites his lip and looks away.
“... His grandmother passed away a few years ago and from what I heard, so did his parents when he was young.”
“Oh.”
The kitchen is silent for a few moments before your father breaks it.
“Wait, (Name), why do you look so surprised? I thought you knew this already, considering he’s your rival and everything! I thought you would at least know something about him.”
“Dad, that’s exactly the point- we’re rivals and I don’t want to know anything about him! All that matters is beating him at his own game and that’s that. Besides, he never tells me anything about his personal life, so why should I do the same?”
“They’re right, you know.”
Your father merely rolls his eyes at your mother’s remark.
“You know the rules, don’t get too close to him now,” your mother warns. “You have to do whatever it takes to be the best, whatever? That’s what you promised us.”
You roll your eyes. “Yes, mom, I know. I’ll do my best to become a sage.”
Your parents lean in to hold you close, your mother giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.
“That’s our child. Make us proud, ok?”
“I will!”
After a lovely three months of summer vacation (and not being forced to see Alhaitham every day save for the rare occasions where you’d run into him in public- you’d immediately turn the other way and act as if nothing happened), you head back to the Akademiya for your second year. Like last year, you share many of your classes with the bane of your existence, although things are… less tense than they were before. The underlying spark of competition is still there, but not as prominent as before.
Alhaitham is pleasantly surprised at how you’ve mellowed out over the summer. Something in your eyes has hardened and the way your mouth is set is different now. You’ve lost some of the baby fat in your cheeks (shame, he enjoyed poking and prodding at them, much to your annoyance) and you’ve grown a bit taller as well. He’s grown taller as well and to your irritation, he’s gaining on you. He’s put on some muscle as well and according to Kaveh, who you befriended over the summer, he’s started learning the art of the sword.
(“What for?” you had asked back then. He had merely shrugged.
“Too much free time on his hands, I guess. I thought he was training to be a mercenary at first.”
“I just can’t imagine him with a sword. In my mind, I see him toppling over from the weight of it.”
“Same here.”)
On the first day back, you merely greet him with a nod and you’re less opposed to working with him than before- although you can’t seem to break the habit of making a sarcastic jab at him now and then.
As the year progresses though, Alhaitham notices a change in you- namely, your test scores. He catches a glimpse of them sticking out of your folder at the library.
85%. 75%. 83%. 79%. They’re not as good as they were last year but they aren’t a concern for Alhaitham. As far as he knows, you’re still doing good overall and your classes are getting harder. It’s only reasonable and he hasn’t observed any noticeable or drastic changes in your personality, so it doesn’t warrant any concern.
That is, in his eyes. The same can’t be said for you though.
You didn't realize how much time you had spent studying until the library was closed one day. Sitting at your cramped desk with your roommate you barely know nowhere in sight, you’re suddenly aware of how quiet it is. Normally, you’d hear at least something- people arguing down the hall and music playing, among others. But today, it was eerily silent.
From the back of your mind, you recall news of a party that was supposed to be happening around this time. Lisa extended an invitation to you but you turned it down, claiming that you had to study. It was a bullshit excuse, now that you think about it.
(Lisa had looked at you knowingly when you said that, but not in a good way. Worry was present in her eyes, resigned to the fact that she couldn’t do anything.
“Alright,” she had said. “Just… don’t head down the path I think you’re on.”)
Your pen freezes mid-stroke as a horrifying thought crosses your mind. You now finally understand the true meaning of her words.
Have I… been making the right decisions? How much have I missed out on?
Your books and the allure of good grades tempt you, but you force yourself to evaluate your life so far. You have some of the highest marks in the entire class but you realize you have almost no experience or connections, and that was what really mattered.
All of the studying in the world can’t compare to pulling a few strings, after all.
Not long after the year starts, Alhaitham notices that you’ve started going out more. You’re spending less of your time at the library during weekends and instead spending time with friends in the city.
(“You actually have a life outside of the Akademiya. I’m surprised.”
“I should be the one telling you that.”)
“Come on, (Name), come join us at the tavern tonight! We booked the place and everyone is going to be there! You’re missing out if you don’t, just saying…”
The familiar voice belonging to a certain blond makes you look up. You huff a sigh and set your notes down to glare at Kaveh, who has been pestering you to go to a party at Lambad’s Tavern tonight. You’re about to tell him you’re not interested when you stop just short of saying so.
Will I regret saying no?
“(Name), you’re young right now! Take some risks and live life a little, otherwise, you’ll have nothing to look back fondly on once you’re all old and wrinkly! That old dusty rock-of-a-friend Alhaitham would say the same thing, you know… although, maybe he’d phrase it differently.”
Kaveh’s right, you realize. I can make up a test. I can always study later. But I’m only young for a little while. I can’t make up for lost time.
“Just curious- what’s in it for me?”
“Oh, the usual. Free food, entertainment, a break from these stupid books, alcohol- oh, and you might get to see a rare drunk Alhaitham there! Doesn’t that sound exciting?”
“No need to venture into that territory. You already had me at the free food part. So, what time?”
Later that evening at the tavern, you realize Kaveh wasn’t kidding when he said everyone was going to be there- he really did mean everyone the moment you step inside. Lisa is the center of attention with wide-eyed students gawking at her alcohol tolerance- seriously, how is she not drunk yet?- while Tighnari stands in the corner with his ears folded over and eyes squeezed shut. Cyno’s glare is more than enough to scare anyone away as he leads the fox hybrid upstairs toward a quieter spot.
There’s enough alcohol being passed around to knock a Sumpter Beast unconscious. You only have a few drinks, not wanting to be hungover on a weekday. At one point, a familiar voice drifts its way over to you.
“(Name), over here!”
It’s Kaveh, and… Alhaitham next to him is drunk from the looks of it? His face is flushed and he stumbles as he walks with Kaveh being the only thing stopping him from faceplanting onto the floor.
“I thought Alhaitham could handle his alcohol?” you ask as you sling one of his arms around your shoulder and make your way out the tavern.
“He does, but he tried a new type of alcohol tonight that was stronger than he expected. Fire-something… it’s from Snezhnaya, if that explains anything.”
You glance at his heavily flushed face again and sigh.
“Yeah, that explains everything.”
After lugging Alhaitham across Sumeru City and up the many steps leading to the Akademiya, you’re prepared to say goodnight to Kaveh and head back to your dorm when you feel something latch onto your shirt. It’s Alhaitham and even in his drunken stupor, he’s surprisingly strong.
“Wait.”
“What is it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation. His answer is instant.
“Don’t go,” he slurs out.
He’s drunk, you remind yourself. Don’t take anything he says at face value.
But even so, you spot the opportunity to tease him.
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Because… you’re one of my only friends.”
You go quiet at that. Nothing could have prepared you for that response. Every witty remark and sarcastic jab you had prepared on the tip of your tongue fizzled out instantly. Even Kaveh, who has no shortage of words when it comes to Alhaitham, falls silent.
In the year or so that you’ve known Alhaitham for, he’s never been one to get close with people, instead preferring to keep them at arm’s length. Most likely, it’s the alcohol inhibiting his filter, but you can’t ignore the little flutter in your stomach at his words.
“I guess you are one to me as well, Haitham. I-”
“Say that again.”
His sudden demand makes you pause. Despite his drunken state, there’s a fire in his eyes that briefly makes you question whether he’s sober.
“... I guess you are one-”
He stops you. “No. Not that. Repeat what you said at the very end of it.”
“Haitham?”
“Call me that again.”
“Haitham.”
“Again.”
A smile creeps onto your face now that you’ve finally caught on. How cute.
“Haitham.”
“Again.”
And secretly inside, you’re happy. Happy that someone considers you a friend for the first time. You no longer feel dehumanized from idolization or isolated from everyone else and you realize it’s what you’ve been secretly wishing for this whole time.
“Goodnight, Haitham.”
It’s now a common occurrence between you two to drag each other to activities on the weekends. One day, it’s Alhaitham camping out with you late at night to go stargazing. (“(Name), this is boring.” “You can go home if you want. I won’t stop you.” “Hmph.”) Another day, it’s him inviting you to the various coffee shops throughout the city and sampling their beverages. (“The shop we went to last week does a pour-over better.” “You think so too?”)
Another time, you’re heading back to the Akademiya after a day of shopping and playing Genius Invocation (he lost miserably several times in a row to you, much to his embarrassment). It’s been overcast the whole day and the air has been humid but you nervously brushed off the weather’s warning signs.
Something wet lands on your cheek. You blink and look up, then at the ground where raindrops are rapidly dotting the surface. You meet Alhaitham’s gaze, the rising panic in your eyes apparently visible because he pulls you toward the souvenir shop, where you both seek shelter against the escalating downpour. Sheets of rain crash against the ground and the sides of buildings and the gusts of wind make the trees sway violently.
(You both, like idiots, forgot to bring your umbrellas. In the middle of Sumeru’s rainy season.)
You can barely see past your two feet but you can make out something moving nearby, and it’s getting closer. Small, gray, and most definitely sopping wet, it’s… a cat?
The small creature pauses and runs as fast as it can toward you. You take your hat off and scoop it up, where it meows pitifully and sneezes. A quick check tells you that the cat is a girl.
“(Name), what-”
“Look, Haitham,” you whisper as you shrug your jacket off and dry the cat. “Poor baby must have gotten stranded and lost in the rain. She came running to us for help.”
The cat shakes off the last of the rain clinging to her fur and now you can see that she resembles Alhaitham quite a bit with her gray fur and green eyes. You wonder if she has his attitude as well…
“I wonder if she’s someone’s pet cat that ran away.”
“She’s probably one of the city’s many strays. I don’t see a collar on her.”
“She’s well-fed for one…” you grumble, noting her plump belly. “So, can we keep her?”
“(Name), you know animals, unless they’re service animals, are not allowed in Akademiya dorms.”
“That hasn’t stopped people though. Someone on my floor snuck their pet cat into the dorms and it’s an open secret among all of us.”
“But still-”
And then you hit him with puppy eyes. The edges of your mouth quiver and turn down, while your eyes soften and go wide.
“Please?”
His resolve crumbles instantly.
“Fine. But you’re keeping it.”
You sheepishly smile. “About that…”
What now?
“My roommate is a blabbermouth and a stickler for the rules. If I kept her, she would be gone and back on the streets before noon tomorrow.”
“Are you suggesting that I take care of her?”
“Are you against it?”
“Taking care of an animal is a big responsibility, (Name). One that requires time and-”
“I can help you take care of her. With the two of us looking after her, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being optimistic or oversimplifying the problem here.”
You roll your eyes and Alhaitham looks off to the side.
“I’ll have to ask Kaveh-”
“Kaveh would be over the moon at the prospect of you bringing home a cat. You know how much he loves animals. This cat will be in good hands under his and our care.”
Looks like he now has no other choice but to say yes. He heaves a deep sigh and looks back up at you.
“Fine. I’ll keep her in my room.”
Your face lights up.
“But first, we need to give her a name.”
You scrunch your brows and think for a moment.
“How about Thamina?”
“Thamina,” he repeats. “Meaning valuable or priceless. It fits well.”
You become a frequent visitor to Kaveh and Alhaitham’s dorm after that. It gets to the point where Alhaitham gives you his copy of the spare key so you could come and go as you please (to which Kaveh gives him a knowing look that he pointedly ignores for his own sake). At first, you primarily visited to take care of Thamina, but at some point, you began visiting primarily for him.
Study sessions slowly move from the House of Daena to his room, with him at his desk and you sitting on his bed. Thamina bears witness to the heated debates shared between you two in the late hours of the night and the quiet moments of studying. Alhaitham is there to keep her company throughout the day, but she patiently waits for you after a long day of classes. She watches as you two steal each other’s belongings and food (occasionally joining in if she smelled fish in the box you brought home from a late-night dinner). When there is a disagreement between you two, she’s there to help you reconcile in the form of demanding affection and cuddles.
But when she and Kaveh are fast asleep, only you two are privy to the heavy conversations that happen once and are never brought up again.
“Tell me more about your family, Haitham.”
He freezes, then casts a suspicious glance at you over his shoulder.
“Where is this question coming from? And why?”
You shrug.
“I just wanted to know more about the people that raised you to become the person you are today.”
“... My grandmother raised me,” he says after a moment of hesitation. “I admittedly don’t know much about my parents- only that my mother was a renowned Vahumana scholar and my father was a mentor in Haravatat. They both died in an accident, thus leaving me under my grandmother’s care.”
You make yourself comfortable on his bed and nod, urging him to continue.
“My grandmother was a Kshahrewar scholar. By the time I was born, she had already retired. As such, she had a lot of free time. We did a lot of things together.”
He pauses to recount his fading memories of her.
“She liked to bake. Her desserts were on the sweeter side, but I have the recipes. I can tweak them so they’re less sweet for you.”
“I’d like that very much.”
“She liked to cook as well. I’d often wake up to the smell of food in the kitchen and she’d be there at the stove. She’d make my favorites and always save most of it or the best parts for me. Unlike with baking, she never used any recipes for her cooking. I’ve tried to imitate her dishes, but it’s never exactly the same as I remember.”
Haitham’s bed is comfy, you note. You pull the covers over yourself, feeling your eyelids grow heavier.
“Were you a chubby child who was spoiled by grandma?” you tease.
“Yes,” he admits.
You giggle. “I wish I could have seen you as a kid, chubby cheeks and all.”
There are baby photos his grandma kept that he now has, but he’ll never tell you that.
“Like you, she was more of a tea person than a coffee person. She liked hers sweetened while I liked mine more plain. She never knew where she left her reading glasses and she’d always ask me to find them. When I was younger, she’d read a bedtime story to me every night. If there was nothing we were doing, I’d spend the whole day on her lap as she read the books of my choosing aloud to me. One of the last things she told me was that I was so similar to my father, both in nature and appearance. And more than anything else, she was kind.”
“You miss her, don’t you?”
“Yes. I miss her a lot.”
“Your grandma sounds like an amazing person,” you sleepily mumble. “I would have liked to meet her.”
The last thing you hear before finally drifting off is Alhaitham’s whispered response.
“She would have liked to meet you too.”
And the next night, the conversation is equally as heavy.
“Hey, Haitham.”
“What is it?” he whispers back.
“Do you think that.. I don’t know, that I’m not quite who I used to be?”
Alhaitham sets his pen down.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Do you think I’ve changed in more ways than one?”
“Well, you’re less annoying now.”
You give him a well-deserved jab on the bicep with the end of your pen. Much to your annoyance, he doesn’t even flinch and continues.
“The way I see it, change is inevitable. We all fight and run from it, but it eventually catches up with us. It is neither good nor bad. Rather, it’s what you make of it. But to answer your question, yes. You’ve matured more mentally. You’ve realized there’s more to life now. You’re learning how to live life on your own terms now, aren’t you?’
Your silence tells him everything he needs to know.
“Tell me, Haitham. What do you wish for?”
Alhaitham is a simple man with few desires. If all his basic needs and simple wants of books and time to himself are met, then he is content. But your question has him thinking. Is there anything else he wants in his life?
And it turns out the answer is yes.
“Regardless of how things turn out in the future, I’d like to be able to continue talking to you like this. That’s my wish.”
Kaveh stirs in his sleep. Thamina rolls over and makes biscuits on your lap. A small smile creeps onto your face. You turn away and resume your work. He does the same.
It’s a mundane scene- two Akademiya students pulling another all-nighter to complete their work. And yet…
Yes, this is what I want, Alhaitham thinks to himself. Everything I could ever want means nothing if you aren’t here.
The spring semester comes around and with that comes the finals grind. You’ve thrown yourself into your studies in a last-minute attempt to save, in your opinion, your failing grades since you aren’t at the top of your class anymore. (Alhaitham thinks you’re insane- you’re still in the top five.) As if to rub it in your face, you get a letter from your family one day.
We heard that you’re no longer at the top of your class. What happened?
Your eyes and mind glazed over the rest of the letter until the end.
Study harder. You can end it the same way you did last year if you would spend more time on it. Don’t get distracted now.
A rare instance of frustration flashes through you and before you know it, you’ve ripped up the letter and tossed it in the trash.
Who told them that anyway?
“Lisa… graduated early?”
The news comes to you over dinner one day when you ask where Lisa is upon realizing she’s not there. You’ve just finished all your finals and you want nothing more than to relax and catch up on some sleep, but news regarding your best friend makes you temporarily forget about those plans.
Cyno nods. “It’s a whole thing now. They’re saying she’s the best student the Akademiya has had in the past 200 years. Once in a generation is what they’re calling her now.”
You bite your lip and look away. A weak “tell her I said congratulations” is all you can get out as envy begins festering deep within you. You’re ashamed of yourself- she’s your best friend, for Archon’s sake, you should be feeling excited for her- but you just can’t.
Why couldn’t it have been me instead?
You end your second year third in the class, with Alhaitham at the top.
“Welcome home, (Name).”
The house is a little chilly when you step inside. Dinner has already been prepared- it’s sitting on the table- but it looks like it was made some time ago. Your father ushers you into the kitchen, where your mother waits expectantly, her lips stretched into a thin smile when she sees you.
There are the usual dinnertime conversations- how has your day been? Fine, yours? Same old, same old- but they feel stiffer than usual. It doesn’t flow and you find yourself internally wincing at the heavy silence between you.
“So.”
You pause and look up at your mother, who has finally broken the awkward silence surrounding the kitchen table.
“We heard you… didn’t do so well at the Akademiya this year.”
You freeze and internally brace yourself for what is to come.
“Only third this year? (Name), you were first last year, how come you couldn’t place first again? That’s not so hard, is it? You just have to put some effort in, stop being so lazy, and you’ll do fine! Besides, it’s only your second year, what could be so difficult about it? We know you’re smart and that you could’ve easily been first again. You’re just getting complacent, that’s all! Do you really want that Alhaitham to beat you at your own game? How humiliating would that be for us? Think of the embarrassment we, your poor mother and father, would face from others in the Akademiya- our golden child (Name), who was once someone people aspired to be, but now nothing but a disappointment!”
“Your mother’s right, (Name),” says your father. “We have high expectations for you, or should I say, had.”
Their disappointment cuts deep into your soul, yet something quietly snaps inside you. You glare at them one more time before slipping away.
“I’m not hungry anymore. I’ve lost my appetite.”
You go to your childhood room and lock the door behind you. Your parents’ voices- most definitely talking about you- drift up the stairs and you do your best to tune them out. As if to mock you, hanging on the wall across from you are all the awards you won at academic competitions throughout your life. Trophies, ribbons, certificates, and medals line every bit of space available, all of them with your name and a first-place title proudly engraved onto them.
Now that you think about it, were you really happy with being the best? Your younger self would laugh and say “of course!”, but why exactly?
And then the realization hits you. You personally felt nothing being the best at everything. The title, the fake smiles, and the forced compliments from others- they couldn’t mean less to you.
You were only happy because your parents were happy. Were you ever happy with yourself- with who you were as a person? You don’t know.
Stars live for an incredibly long time, but they too must die out one day. Their reserves of hydrogen gas will inevitably run out and they will either go out with a bang or a fizzle depending on their size. Larger stars go out in a blaze of glory, expanding up to several times their size before exploding and bathing the universe in the remains of their supernova for eons to come, while smaller ones condense from the gravity pushing inward and shrink down into a cold white dwarf, destined to drift across the universe alone for the rest of time. That is your fate, yet you do not know it yet. The last of your fuel has finally been spent, and the end is nigh. Whether you will go out with a bang or fade into obscurity is something only time will tell.
You’ve had enough of the stifling atmosphere in the house.
It’s only been a few days since summer vacation began and you’re already at your wit’s end. The heavy silence hanging in the air and their passive-aggressive comments toward you make you want to tear your hair out. Or run away. Maybe both.
There are still lots of days left before you start class again. Surely there’s something you can do until then…
And then it hits you: traveling throughout Sumeru! You were born and raised in the city, but you’ve rarely ventured outside of its borders. This could be a good chance to expand your horizons and gain experience!
So without further ado, you pack your bags, plan a route, and begin your adventures. Most of the time, you’d leave at dawn before your parents woke up and return late at night after they’d fallen asleep. Sometimes, you wouldn’t return for days, instead choosing to camp outside or stay at a friend’s house for a while. From what you’ve heard through your neighbors and friends, your parents don’t seem to care what you’re doing either. Some of your friends even say that they look happier now that you’re out of the house. The notion stings, but you don’t dwell on it for too long.
There’s a strange sense of peace you feel throughout your travels that’s foreign to you. Whether it’s camping out underneath the stars or scaling a rocky cliffside, you’ve never felt more attuned to yourself than now. You gradually discover more about yourself that you otherwise would have never known. You like stargazing even more after seeing the expanse of the night sky and all its stars for the first time without the light pollution of the city. You like to swim, as demonstrated when you dove headfirst into a river for the first time and felt the cool waters wash over your skin. You’re decently skilled with a bow and arrow after Tighnari gives you some lessons and his old bow to keep yourself safe on your travels.
Most importantly, you discover how to find happiness by yourself. After being told your whole life what you could and couldn’t do, being able to take control of your life was a liberating feeling.
You end up seeing Alhaitham quite a bit during this time. Strangely enough, he was always one of the first people you’d see returning back to Sumeru City. He’d always give you a subtle nod when he noticed you staring at him before leaving. Sometimes, he’d even be there to wish you a safe trip- no, not sometimes- almost all of the time. It’s basically a given that he’ll be there to see you off at this point. How he hears about it every time, you have no idea but you aren’t complaining.
“Leaving early as always, I see. Where to this time, (Name)?”
You pause from checking your supplies to see Alhaitham standing behind you.
“I’m heading down to Gandharva Ville to spend some time in the rainforest. But you’re up this early just to wish me a safe trip? I didn’t take you for a morning person.”
“I’m not. But someone should see you off each time, and if your parents won’t do it, then I will.”
“Y-You… how did you know?”
“Know what?” he asks while stepping around to help you with your bag. “All I know is that I’ve never seen them send you off or welcome you back.”
“So be it then,” you grumble. “It’s not as if I care.”
So he doesn’t know about our strained relationship yet, you muse to yourself. That’s surprising, considering how big mother and father’s social circle is…
“You’re all set now. Best you head off before it gets too hot.”
“I will. You take care as well.”
He watches you leave through the city gates until you’re no longer in sight. A rare expression of longing crosses his face then and only after lingering for a few more moments (with his eyes trained on where you once were) does he leave.
He was lying when he pretended to be unaware of your family situation. When you’re hailed as one of the best scholars in recent times in a land that has a borderline fanatical dedication to academics, everything pertaining to you will be scrutinized and monitored. Your sudden decision to leave Sumeru for extended periods of time, and the way your parents refused to talk about you or changed the topic whenever you came up… it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.
For your sake, Alhaitham hopes you would return later rather than sooner so you wouldn’t have to hear what was being said about you.
“You seem to have gotten good at this,” he remarks over coffee and desserts when you return several weeks later. Alhaitham notices you’ve put on some muscle. There are some new scars and the bow slung on your back is an unfamiliar sight as well. “You would be a perfect candidate for the Adventurer’s Guild.”
You laugh. “Nah, it’s not for me. As much as I enjoy traveling, I don’t think I could earn my living through it, plus I won’t be able to keep it up once I’m all old and wrinkly.”
“Tell me about your adventures though. Where did you go?”
Your eyes light up and you begin rambling excitedly about your travels. You go into great detail about your time spent in the Avidya Forest and your spontaneous decision to travel to Liyue, which catches him off-guard.
“Liyue?” he repeats when you mention it. “So that’s why you were gone for several weeks instead of days. I’ve never been there before. Tell me, what was it like?”
Your smile grows even bigger and your eyes may as well have been stars from how brightly they were shining.
“Oh, you should’ve seen the architecture- actually, wait, I should be telling Kaveh this- but it was so pretty! The food was super good too and a friend I made shared some of her recipes with me. I have a feeling that you’ll like them so I can teach you some other time! Ooh, and you can’t miss the scenery for the world! Personally, my favorite was…”
You’re so caught up in reliving and telling your adventures that you fail to miss the fond look in his eyes and the rare hint of a smile that stretches across his face.
You’re halfway through recounting your way back home through the Chasm when you happen to glance at the clock and the realization begins to set in.
“I have to get going now,” you explain as you hurriedly gather your belongings. “I’m meeting up with some other friends in a bit. But thanks for the coffee and sweets. Hopefully, I’ll see you around again sometime soon?”
The chime above the door jingles as you rush outside and Alhaitham is left alone with his thoughts. With a deep sigh, he takes a look out the window and decides to address the thoughts about you that have been on his mind lately.
You’re annoying, there’s no doubt about that. You love to push his buttons and purposefully irritate him. You’re an overachiever and you care too much about what other people think. For the longest time, your whole personality consisted of your academic accomplishments and nothing else. You’re a people pleaser and you long for acceptance and praise from others- two things he thinks are utterly useless coming from other people. The moment someone questions your abilities, regardless of who it is, you begin to second-guess yourself and waver. Ridiculous, in his opinion. You know your worth and skills better than anyone else, so why are you letting their baseless accusations affect you? You’re easily affected by rumors and your self-worth is determined by what others think of you.
But you have a warm and welcoming demeanor that’s rare in the cutthroat halls of the Akademiya that draws others to you like a moth to a flame. You enjoy traveling and you have a major soft spot for animals, especially cats. Whenever you’re in the city, you always stop to pet all the strays roaming around, no matter how long it takes. You enjoy sweets- not the overly cloying kind, but the ones that have a touch of sweetness to the point where you can just taste it. Your favorite dessert is the Padisarah Pudding sold in the Grand Bazaar and he’s stopped by so often that the vendor knows his name, face, and order by now. You’re more of a tea person than a coffee person, but he has your coffee order memorized just in case (iced, with two sugars, a splash of milk, and rosewater) and he’s the one that has been mysteriously supplying your favorite tea whenever it’s running low. He notices you like to ramble about things you’re passionate about (and he willingly- gladly- listens too).
And he’s come to realize that maybe you’re not as insufferable as he thought you were. You have a brilliant mind and you’re one of the few that isn’t put off by his blunt nature. You don’t just tolerate him- you appreciate him, flaws and everything.
You’ve always been envious of him- he’s known that ever since he met you. Because of him, you have strived to prove yourself as better in all aspects. A stupid rivalry is what it started off as with your pride getting the best of both of you. But throughout these three years, you’ve only brought out the best in each other.
At this point, he doesn’t feel complete without you.
He’s well aware of the question hanging over people’s minds whenever they see the both of you together. You are the sun, the golden child of your parents who are renowned within the Akademiya and held to the highest level of scrutiny. Their judging gazes, eyes that fixate on every move of yours, comments whispered behind your back- you take them all in stride. Meanwhile, Alhaitham’s presence is glossed over when you’re there. To many, he is just another Akademiya student that they will see in passing and forget about immediately. In that aspect, he is the moon that hides from others. Those who were acquainted with his parents or his late grandmother may recognize him and speak with him, but he mostly goes unnoticed and ignored.
But free from the prying eyes of others, Alhaitham is able to sleep peacefully at night. Your fitful sleep, on the other hand, is plagued with dreams of what-ifs and the looming fear of disappointment from others. You’ve always succeeded, not because you craved success, but because you feared failure and how others would react.
The rising moon admires the sun because of the boundless love they receive from others. On the other hand, the setting sun is envious of the moon for his sweetest dreams that they can only long for.
You enter your third year with a sense of apprehension that wasn’t there before. Your high hopes for yourself are still there, but they’ve been dashed considerably. But despite your lack of ambition now and your experiences from last year, you still (attempt to) throw yourself into your studies, knowing that this year is where the challenge begins. Your first two years were just warmups, or nothing, according to your parents.
Your first few weeks go well, but before you know it, you find yourself lost and overwhelmed by the material.
I… don’t understand any of this. But how could this be? I’ve spent so much time.
Your test scores don’t reflect your efforts either.
45%. 50%. 63% 67%. 55%. 38%.
“Damn it!”
You slam your fist onto your desk table as the results of another failed test greet you. You had spent so much time preparing for this one, only for your efforts to be rewarded with a slap to the face.
You can’t keep going like this. You need help, and desperately at that, but you can’t bring yourself to ask for it.
You’re smarter than everyone else, you don’t need help, a familiar voice comes into your mind. You’re the pride and joy of our family because of your grades. Don’t let us down now.
You look out the window, the heat still simmering in your stomach.
“What a load of bullshit.”
“... I saw your test scores earlier today.”
You glare at Alhaitham with poison in your gaze that was never there until now. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he feels strangely uneasy, like his body is warning him to stop.
“And? Here to mock me for it?”
“No. On the contrary, I want to offer you my help.”
Oh, the humiliation. Look at how far you’ve fallen.
“Forget it,” you snap. “I don’t need your help.”
You get up and leave, slamming the doors shut behind you. It echoes through the House of Daena and the other students there turn to stare at Alhaitham in silent shock. He’s stunned too. Although you can have quite the sharp tongue at times, you’ve never lashed out at him like that before.
A few weeks later, the results of another test are announced. Alhaitham’s name sits at the top like it always has. His name is on everyone’s tongue as they jealously grumble over the results once again. His eyes examine the list, searching for one name in particular, until he finds yours at the bottom of it.
He pauses, then turns around in time to see you storming out. He doesn’t miss the looks your classmates give you- mocking, ridiculing, scornful, and disgusted sneers that relish in your downfall. The jealous grumbles about him now turn into titters and sneering whispers with your name now being trampled upon by those that used to extol your virtues. It’s all noise and it grates his ears until he can’t stand it anymore.
“What a waste of time.”
The noise stops and everyone turns to look at him.
“You all have the energy to complain about your own scores while making a laughing stock of someone else. It’d be better spent on improving your own scores- unless you’re just that incompetent?”
Later that night as you’re studying, you get a message from your parents through your Akasha. It’s the first time you’ve gotten anything from them all year. After hesitating, you open the message.
It’s short and simple but your heart sinks and your temper flares after reading it. You rip your Akasha Terminal off and toss it to the side.
Don’t come home this year.
“I need your help. I’m asking for a friend.”
Alhaitham looks over his book at you. It’s the first time he’s seen you all week and to be frank, you look awful. Your hair is a mess, your uniform is wrinkled, and your skin looks dry and dull.
“Do I know them? If not, then I won’t help.”
You roll your eyes and throw your hands up exasperatedly. “Ok fine, yes, you know them.”
“Well, why won’t they just ask me themselves? Why trouble you?”
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter right now. Just answer the damn question.”
He leans back and knowingly looks at you.
“They’re going through a tough time right now,” you explain, choosing each of your words carefully. “They aren’t doing good in their classes and they’re trying to get back on track, but they don’t know how to.”
“... This is for you, isn’t it?”
Damn, he saw right through you. Were you that obvious?
Alhaitham goes back to reading his book. “I can’t say I would be of any use here. After all, I’ve never been in that position nor would I let myself get there.”
You feel your temper flare once more. You clench your jaw and try to reign in your anger before speaking to him.
“Well, duh. You’re also not helping either.”
“Really? I think it’s a perfectly reasonable answer.”
“Put yourself in my shoes for once, would you?”
He sets his book down and looks at you.
“You asked me for my advice and I told you what I would do in that situation. I don’t understand why you’re getting upset.”
“That’s because it’s not the answer I’m looking for!”
“That’s on you for expecting others to somehow know what you want without telling them.”
“You-!”
You groan and run your hands through your hair. Is it just you or is he being more insufferable today? Can’t he read the room for once?
He continues. “If you wanted someone to only tell you what you wanted to hear, a mirror would be a better audience.”
“Alhaitham, all I’m asking from you is a little empathy. Is that so hard to have?”
“And is it so hard for you to stop throwing a hissy fit just because I didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear?”
His words are all spite and knives meant to hurt. They lack the usual lighthearted tone he has with you. You feel it coming- the barbed words that are poised to strike and cut deep, but it doesn’t help when he begins speaking again.
“You asked for my help and I gave you advice. You’re not in a position to be complaining here.”
“Yeah, well, your ‘advice’ isn’t what most people would consider as help.”
He scoffs and looks away before looking at you once more- like he’s looking down on you, you realize. There’s something akin to disgust and impatience in his gaze that makes you freeze despite all your sharp words earlier.
“How irrational could you be? You reject everyone’s help even though you need it and you don’t listen to anybody’s suggestions. You’re too caught up in the conception that you’re always right and everyone else is always wrong. You’re childish, (Name), that’s what you are. You’re like a child still naive and ignorant, content with playing with their toys and games and ignoring reality. You’re not cut out for the Akademiya. You never were.”
He laughs and now you realize just how much it hurts when it’s directed toward you.
“And you’re telling me that my ego is overinflated. No wonder you’re failing everything. Archons, (Name), you’re utterly hopeless. What did I ever see in you?”
The silence that fills the space afterward is enough to make Alhaitham immediately regret his words. You angrily glare at him and Alhaitham’s heart sinks when he recognizes the emotion present in your eyes.
Utter hate.
“... For all these years, I've heard so many rumors about you but chose to brush them off,” you begin. “I was so stupid! I should have listened to them! They say you’re cold and heartless and only now do I realize that they were right. They say you’re not human from how cruel you are- archons, dammit! Look at me!”
The sudden demand makes Alhaitham nervously glance toward you after avoiding your gaze this entire time. You sniff and wipe away the few tears that managed to spill over. Losing your composure in front of him, the perfect and poised genius, was already humiliating enough, but you hold his gaze long enough to let him see. Let him witness the results of his own actions and the prospect of losing someone he cared about (all over again).
“You’re an absolutely horrible person, Alhaitham. I hope you remember this.”
Alhaitham. It’s the first time you’ve used his full name ever since you befriended him and the implications of it sting.
He reaches out toward you. “Wait-”
You slap his hand away.
“No, we’re done here. I thought you could at least understand, but you’re just as uncaring and self-centered as everyone else here. And I once thought that you were better than anyone else here, but only now do I realize how stupid I was."
You laugh sardonically one last time.
“My parents were right. They would have been so much happier if you were their child.”
Alhaitham doesn’t see you again for several weeks after that. It’s as if you’re purposefully avoiding him and it gets to a point where he’s beginning to get concerned about your health and safety.
Currently, he’s meeting with Tighnari. Out of everyone, the fox hybrid had the highest chance of knowing with his keen sense of hearing.
“I’m concerned about (Name).”
Tighnari’s ears twitch in response.
“They aren’t the same person anymore. You’ve seen it too.”
The fox hybrid sadly nods. “They’ve been consumed by rage and self-hate. I see it in their eyes and the way they lash out. They’re angry at themselves and at everyone around them and it’s completely understandable considering the situation and the response of those they trusted most. Still, it’s not healthy if they continue like this. Speaking of which, were they always this temperamental?”
Alhaitham shakes his head. “No. To be clear, they’ve always had a sharp tongue but it was always lighthearted. They only started getting truly angry this year.”
“Lashing out or displaying signs of anger is often a common symptom of burnout. I’m fairly confident that’s what (Name) has. Specifically, academic burnout. But I’m sure you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Tighnari’s eyes narrow. “Look, (Name) is a great friend to me as well, but why are you telling me about this? You’re in their Darshan so shouldn’t you know more?”
“I haven’t heard anything about them either. I got concerned after they didn’t show up at the library for a week. From what I’ve heard, they haven’t been showing up to class either for the past few weeks, which is strange for them. I’m asking around- maybe I’ll find something out that way.”
Tighnari shakes his head. “Sadly, I don’t know why either. If it helps, some people have said they haven’t even seen them. Not just at the library or at class but in general. It’s almost as if they’ve just… disappeared.”
There’s a moment of silence that passes between them. Tighnari stares at Alhaitham curiously and he rests his chin on his hands.
Alhaitham doesn’t have a good feeling about this…
“Speaking of which, does the fight from earlier have anything to do with this?”
“You knew?”
“Please. When two of my closest friends get into an argument as big as that, I’m bound to find out eventually. So, did it have anything to do with this?”
“... Yes,” he admits. “I feel guilty and I want to apologize to them.”
“Well, better late than never,” grumbles Tighnari under his breath. The stink eye he sends his way doesn’t go unnoticed by Alhaitham.
“Why do you care for them so much?”
The question comes out of nowhere and leaves him reeling.
“I suppose it’s… because I consider them a friend?”
Archons, that answer sounds even more pathetic out loud than it did in his head and Tighnari knows it.
Tighnari heaves a long sigh that makes Alhaitham pause.
“You absolute lummox!” he snaps. “I always knew you were somewhat emotionally constipated but I didn’t think you’d be this dense…”
He suddenly stands up and stares the ashen-haired male in the eye, his tone softer this time.
“You’re in love with them, Alhaitham. That’s what you’ve been feeling lately.”
Alhaitham immediately scoffs. “No, that can’t possibly be-”
“You, who hates sharing what you consider yours, share your notes with them.”
“It’s a win-win situation for both of us. We’re in the same Darshan and we’ll be able to learn better from each other.”
“But them, specifically, when there are countless others that would kill for the chance to learn from you?”
“They can figure the material out themselves. Plus, I stand to gain no benefit from what they have to offer.”
“What, so only (Name) can keep up with you?”
“Precisely.”
Tighnari sees the opening Alhaitham has created and takes advantage of it.
“Are you sure that you’re still rivals? Even though (Name) is…”
“Of course. It’s been like that since day one.”
“Huh, that’s interesting. Because from what I know, academic rivals don’t go out to lunch together. They don’t go stargazing even though a certain someone finds it mind-numbingly boring. They don’t sneak out past curfew and break Akademiya rules on a daily basis, and they certainly don’t spend hefty chunks of Mora to make the other happy.”
Tighnari has Alhaitham backed into a corner and he knows it.
“Kaveh knows as well.”
“And?”
“And you still let yourself get roped into his schemes to make them happy. Look, I know this isn’t a good time to bring him up considering…”
He gestures at the empty space, a silent indication of Kaveh and Alhaitham’s broken friendship.
“But there’s no denying that Kaveh did and still does care about you. Why else would he be willing to put in so much time and effort to make them happy? Because in addition to being their friend, he knows that when they’re happy, you are as well. And if that doesn’t mean something, then, I don’t know what else does.”
“We’re just friends,” he argues once again. Tighnari glares at him.
“You’re an idiot to think it doesn’t go deeper than that. You also saw them off every single time during the summer.”
“That’s what friends do. Besides, their parents should have-”
“Uh-huh. Go on, keep lying to yourself like that. Do I have to hit you over the head with a brick in order for you to realize your own feelings? You’re sounding like a broken record here.”
“I-”
“There’s no use in denying or lying to us, Alhaitham. We’re your friends, after all. But the one who’s going to have to decide what to do next is you.”
He gets up and gives Alhaitham a pat on the shoulder. Before leaving, he looks at him one last time.
“It’s going to hurt even more when you lose them for good. You’ll only wish you could have done something sooner. But I think you already know that by now, right, Alhaitham?”
“Do you know where (Name) is?”
It’s a rare occasion today- Alhaitham actually showed up for class. But it wasn’t to listen to whatever the professor had to say- no, it was to ask your classmates where you went. He’s been trying every day to find you, but only to no avail.
He’s gained some valuable information, however. Your roommate moved out a while ago, leaving you the sole occupant of your dorm room. He also managed to find your dorm room number after asking some of your “friends”, who after relentless prying, reluctantly opened up.
“I can’t say for sure, but I heard they’re in the hospital. They somehow ended up there over the weekend.”
“The hospital?” he repeats. “Do you know why?”
“No idea. Sorry.”
He shows up at the Birmarstan after the class ends, fully expecting to see you. He gives the nurse his name and a few minutes later, she returns with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, but the patient is not accepting visitors at this time.”
A slight pause. Barely perceptible.
“I see.”
You look at the window to see Alhaitham’s retreating form. The nurse enters your room a few minutes later and crosses her arms.
“He’s the first person who’s asked to visit you ever since you came in. I’m surprised- I thought you’d get more. Most people usually do.”
You pull the covers over your head and roll over. Such is the way of life in the Akademiya. Friendships were formed out of convenience as a way to climb up the ladder later in life. As soon as you were no longer useful or fell from grace like you did, others were quick to abandon you without a second thought.
So why did Alhaitham visit then? To you, your relationship (as enemies? Friends? Or even…) was built solely on how you could assist each other, and nothing more. By your prior logic, there is no logical reason why he should visit you.
Unless…
“Is there any reason why you didn’t want to see him in particular?”
Even if your hypothesis proved to be true, it doesn’t excuse or undo the hurt he caused.
“He’s the last person I want to see right now.”
A few days after being discharged from Birmarstan, there’s a knock from the door that wakes you up from your sleep. Still disoriented, you look up and roll over, opting to ignore it and go back to sleep.
The knocking continues. You cover your ear with a pillow and squeeze your eyes shut even more.
“I know you’re there, (Name). Several people told me so.”
Shit, it’s the last person you want to see right now. Your mood sours instantly and now you’re fully awake.
“What do you want?” you snap.
“I just want to talk.”
It doesn’t seem like he’ll be going away anytime soon, so you get up, kicking the trash that litters the floor to the side, and carefully cracking open the door. He looks down to see you. You pull the sleeves of your shirt down as he does so.
“Can I come in?”
You look behind at the mess that is your dorm.
“... It’s not exactly clean right now.”
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
You flick the lights on and hide the worst of the trash underneath your bed. He follows you, his gaze traveling around the room. He notices the side with the unoccupied bed is considerably cleaner (that must have been your roommate’s before they moved out, he reasons) and your desk looks like it hasn’t been used in a while. He takes a seat at it and examines the table. Your Akasha Terminal is lying in the corner and collecting dust. Your textbook is open to a section that was taught a while ago and it looks like you just started taking notes.
(Although, the frustrated scribbles that occupy most of the page have him concerned. Additionally, certain parts of the paper are wrinkled, as if they have dried after getting wet. The shape and spot where they are concentrated in is another cause for concern as well. Were you… crying?)
You pull the covers over your form and glare at him.
“Well? What did you want to tell me?”
“I’m sorry.”
You pause, then shake your head.
“That alone won’t be enough.”
“I know. And that’s why-”
He gulps, his voice shaking toward the end. It’s just a simple apology, so why is he so nervous?
(But deep down he knows the real answer: this is his last chance to ask you for forgiveness before losing you for good. And it was the thought of losing you, the one that had managed to worm their way into his heart and appreciate him that scared him the most.)
“I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t have said those things back then. I should have been more understanding of your struggles and, like you said, had some more empathy. I realize that I am far from an ideal friend in many people’s eyes and if you feel the same, I will not hold that against you.”
His chest tightens and he subconsciously looks away.
“I’m aware of how people see me- valuing logic above all with a mind fueled by equations and facts over feelings. A genius with no regard or need for others. But I’m still human. I feel regret and remorse the same way as anyone else. I know when I’ve messed up and when I need to apologize. Now is one of those times, more than ever.”
You turn around and open the blinds, letting the light flood the room before sitting back down, watching him carefully.
“I don’t want to forgive you. Do you have any idea how long your words lingered for?”
The words sting Alhaitham. Your voice shakes and you feel the familiar burning sensation in your eyes.
“But I know you. I know your bluntness and sharp tongue. You often say hurtful things but don’t mean them. You’re stubborn and slow when it comes to apologizing, even if the guilt eats away at you. You don’t wear your heart on your sleeve and you’re not one to dish out praises, leading others to believe that you’re cold and unsympathetic.”
You suddenly lean in, staring into the eyes that had kept you awake at night for so long. His eyes widen slightly and you smile faintly to yourself.
“But I like to think that I’ve gotten to know you a bit. You show that you care with your actions, not your words, but that takes time- time that most people aren’t willing to give because of their first impression of you. You take the time to learn about the people you care about and prefer acts of service to words of affirmation and physical touch as your love language. You show that you care in a way of your own.
“So yes. I forgive you.”
Alhaitham finds himself sighing with relief. Yet a question still lingers in the back of his mind.
“Why?”
And there it is again, for the first time in a long time. Your smile. It’s a little stiff and awkward, as if you haven’t smiled in a long time, but it’s undoubtedly yours.
“The same reason. I missed you too.”
And now begins the uncomfortable process of recovery.
“How long were you gone for?”
“... Longer than I’d like to admit. Catching up is going to be a difficult task, isn’t it?”
“I won’t sugarcoat it; you’ve missed a lot.” Alhaitham flips through your books and notes from prior years. “However, you have a strong foundation from your earlier years. That should help you. But first, let me ask you a few questions so I can outline a study plan for you.”
You raise your eyebrows at his statement.
“You’re taking this quite seriously, aren’t you?”
“Naturally,” he replies. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Knowing you, you’re not the kind of person to go out of your way for others,” you grumble. “So going to such lengths just for me…”
“You discredit me if you think that I would do that. But why do you think you felt burnt-out in the first place?”
You look out the window and think for a bit.
“... I think it’s because of my own pride. Had I asked for help earlier on, I have a feeling I wouldn’t be in this position, or things would be better, at least,” you admit.
“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
You sigh and hold your hands out in defeat. “You surely know more than you’re letting on. But I think it’s also because I never learned how to study.”
Alhaitham pauses at that. “Really?”
There’s no mockery or derision in his question- just curiosity.
“People goaded me on as a gifted child and I was expected to somehow know how to do everything perfectly the first time, you know? It’s just how things were.”
“Well, that’s something we can fix for sure.”
Your first few days back are the worst. Whispers and stares follow you wherever you go and your professors, who once showered you with praises, look at you strangely or even ignore you.
“Don’t mind them,” he says when he notices you sulking in the library later that day. “You and I both know that’s just the way the Akademiya is. We’ll see who gets the last laugh.”
Much to the envy of your classmates, he also personally tutors you in all your classes. He accompanies you to all your classes (even the ones he isn’t taking) and sits in on them, whispering and writing little notes of clarification and elaboration.
Bit by bit, you see your scores slowly improve. Alhaitham teaches you an array of study techniques, many of which have been personally vetted by him.
“Try each of them out,” he says. “Different techniques work for different people. There is something out there that works for you.”
He’s able to bear witness to the fruits of your labor one day when he hears your excited footsteps running toward him.
“Haitham, look!”
You practically shove several papers into his face. “I got a perfect score on the latest exam! And guess what? I tied with you, meaning that I also placed first!”
A rare smile, solely reserved for your eyes, creeps onto his face.
“Good job. Your score is well-deserved after all the hard work you’ve been putting in.”
He sees it now. Slowly but surely, you’re regaining bits and pieces of your old self. You’ll never be exactly who you once were, but that’s ok. You’ll pick the broken yet salvageable parts up and put them together to create something new yet still distinctly you.
He only looks forward to seeing what you’ll become in the future.
You’ve finally graduated.
It’s a joyous occasion today, filled with speeches, hugs, and promises to keep in touch. Families and friends crowd outside the Akademiya to congratulate their loved ones. The diploma in your hands and the cords around your shoulders are a sign of your achievements and your persistence despite all the roadblocks you faced along the way.
Your heart feels simultaneously burdened and relieved. You had graduated squarely in the middle of the class. You knew it was something to be proud of, yet that part of your former self that you could never suppress couldn’t help but feel disappointed.
Not that it really bothered you anyway. When you walked across the stage to the smattering of applause accompanying your name, you had immediately locked eyes with Alhaitham in the crowd. He was clapping, but what caught your attention the most was the smile he sent your way. It wasn’t one of his once in a blue moon microscopic ones.
No. It was one where you could see a sliver of his teeth and where the edges of his eyes crinkled from it, the sight of which sent your heart ablaze. There was pride in his gaze and in that moment, you felt as if everything had been worth it- even if it wasn’t the outcome you expected.
And when he walked across the stage, you were the one to clap for him the loudest.
You push your way through the heavy crowds, searching for one person in particular. He’s not anywhere in the crowd, so you head down the walkway and there you see him. He’s waiting for you with a large bouquet of flowers in his arms.
“Took you long enough,” he remarks. Alhaitham holds out the flowers to you and you accept them gratefully.
“Oh, you remembered my favorite flowers!” you exclaim as you examine the bouquet. “I have something for you as well.”
You hand him an envelope and he eyes it curiously when a voice interrupts you.
“(Name).”
You hear an awkward cough behind you and you turn to see your parents. They stand there awkwardly, fidgeting with their hastily-purchased bouquet of flowers that pales in comparison to what Alhaitham got you.
(You don’t even like the kind of flowers your parents got for you and you’ve told them that before…)
“Congratulations on gradu-”
“Oh, you must be Alhaitham!”
Your mother’s sudden remark takes all of you by surprise. She rushes forward and eagerly shakes his hand.
“I’ve heard so much about you! You just graduated and you’ve already made a name for yourself in Sumeru as a genius! How incredible is that? Ah, if only my child here could learn from you, but they’ve already graduated, so it’s a little too late for that now…”
You bite your lip and look away. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Alhaitham. He retracts his hand.
“It was nice to meet you. We’ll be taking our leave now.”
“We’ll?”
Alhaitham ignores them in favor of holding your hand and leading you away.
“I think a celebration is in order. The owner of the stall that sells your favorite Padisarah Pudding is offering us free dessert today.”
The heaviness that was hanging over you just a moment ago is now gone.
“Free desserts? I’m in!”
“Then it’s settled.”
Later that night, Alhaitham remembers the letter you gave him earlier and pulls it out. He glances at the clock. There’s still time before he has to leave and meet up with you.
Dear Alhaitham,
Thank you for being by my side throughout these four years when no one else was. I owe my entire academic career to you. Perhaps even my entire life. I don’t know if I’d be writing this letter if it weren’t for you.
When I saw you on the first day, I wondered what you were doing here. You were short, scrawny, and shy back then. I thought you were one of those child prodigies. Who knew you’d turn out to be the buff man skilled with the sword that I know today…
Honestly, I didn’t think that you would help me. You were the envy of our class, unlike me. I wouldn’t be surprised and I wouldn’t blame you if all that praise got to your head. I guess I didn’t know you well enough back then, though, because you defied all of my expectations. Not only did you not care for status or fame, you also took time out of your own day (which I know you hate doing) for me.
You really are an enigma, Haitham. You’re a person with several layers and hidden secrets like an intricately-designed mechanism. But I think that’s one of the reasons that drew me to you. Everyone has their own secrets and burdens. By slowly learning more about each other, you learn more about yourself.
You and I, we are inseparable now. Earlier today, I had someone come up to me and ask where you were. They were surprised that you weren’t next to me like always. At first glance, we seem more different than similar, especially with our contrasting personalities. But take a closer look and they’ll see that we share more in common than in differences. Opposites attract, but similarities bind.
Like those dusty old philosophers and figures that we had to learn about in class, we are parallels of each other. You are simultaneously my biggest critic and supporter. My biggest rival and confidant. My biggest headache and source of comfort.
But most importantly, you are my biggest friend.
Remember that one night where I asked you what you wished for? You had said that you wanted to keep talking to me regardless of how things turned out in the future. I didn’t really have a response at the time, but now I finally do.
My wish is selfish. I wish for you to stay the way you are. A little arrogant, blunt, curious, and caring in your own way. Because I can’t imagine a future without you in it now.
With all my love,
(Name)
The house is too quiet for Alhaitham’s liking. He appreciates silence when working and Kaveh’s incessant noise from working on projects at midnight is downright irritating, but there is a time and place for everything.
Now is not that time. Thamina is sleeping on the cushion next to him. Kaveh is out in a meeting with a client (for once) and you’re-
“I’m home!”
Speak of the devil, there you are. Thamina’s eyes open and she jumps off the cushion to greet you with a loud meow and a head rub against your legs. Alhaitham takes his headphones off and sets his book down before getting up to greet you after a long journey back from Mondstadt. You’re tired, your uniform is wrinkled, and your Kamera has been hastily shoved back into its case, but Alhaitham has never been more grateful to see you.
“Missed me?”
“You’ve been gone for too long,” he grumbles before pulling you into a tight hug and burying his face into the crook of your neck.
“Love, it was only for a month!”
“My point still stands.”
You scrunch your face up and eventually manage to wiggle your way out of his grasp. It’s been a few years since you’ve graduated. Alhaitham has dutifully taken on the responsibilities of the Akademiya’s Scribe while you now work as a reporter for a newspaper company. You love the job because it puts your Haravatat degree to good use and you get paid to travel, although you don’t like the part of being away from Alhaitham for extended periods of time.
“Are you still up for dinner and dessert even though it’s getting late?”
“At my favorite place?”
“Our favorite place,” he corrects.
“Oh, you like it now as well? Did some of my tastes rub off onto you?”
“The pudding runs I went on for you did that a long time ago.”
Comets are ephemeral in nature. Some of them are only seen once and then gone, lost in time and never to be seen again. But occasionally, in a twist of fate, they can be rediscovered although it may take hundreds or even thousands of years for them to return.
That comet he had wished upon several years ago had finally returned to him.
@ bottledpeaches, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai
Would u please do Arlecchino adopting a reader? I just want to be adopted by our dearest Arlecchino
warmth.
summary. arlecchino's warmth is quite an effective repellent for snezhnaya's everlasting cold.
trigger & content warnings. home invasion, gunshots are mentioned, a bit of violence in general, reader's parents are murdered (not by arlecchino) but it is non-descriptive and reader does not witness it.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. hurt/comfort, found family-ish. arlecchino & child!reader. 1.1k words. they/them pronouns used for reader.
author's thoughts. hehehehehe arle <3 i was supposed to write a fic featuring kafka (hsr) today in celebration of her coming home. Erm. yeah. That did not happen! clearly. /lh
It happened all too quickly.
It truly was a peaceful night, just like any other. The fire crackled on soothingly in the background, shadows dancing on the walls, and the warmth staving off the frigid cold that was all but characteristic of Snezhnaya's nights. Peering out the window would reveal the light, steady snowfall; typically, more blizzard-like conditions would be present, but perhaps the Tsaritsa was in quite a good mood that night in particular, for the snow was gentle in its falling and the winds did not rage on cruelly, biting and nipping angrily at any unfortunate person caught out in the middle of the storm.
Their mother hummed a soft lullaby to them as her calloused fingers, all thanks to years of sewing and hunting combined, rubbed up and down their back. Their father had been in the kitchen—cooking was a responsibility shared between their parents (and really, how could he have asked his wife to move when their beloved, sweet child was half-asleep on her lap? That was a /far/ too wicked request. No, he would not dare disturb theirs and their mother's peace).
...And in a split second, it had all come crumbling down.
Someone's weight was thrown against the door, causing a loud slam! to resonate within the walls.
Once, and their mother sprung up, jerking them awake with her motions. In their half-asleep state, they hardly understood what was going on as their father rushed defensively out of the kitchen with an axe.
Twice, and their mother gathered them in her arms before darting towards the back of the house—the absolute farthest end—at her husband's command. She rushed into one of the bedrooms, swiftly ripping the closet door open and pushing them in, insisting quietly that they hid among the pile of thick winter coats where they would not be seen.
"You just have to hide for a little, okay?" she murmured softly, deft hands pulling coats over their little body and face. "And remember—stay quiet, okay? Shh."
At the end of her sentence, she made a shushing motion with a shaky, trembling smile.
Perhaps it was her attempt at soothing them, but children are often not so easily fooled. The gesture did naught to calm their pounding heart. She had done her best to look certain and reassuring, but all it did was make them all the more terrified.
Their mother stood up, closing the closet door only slightly; it may look suspicious if it had been closed completely, she thought.
Then, she was gone, and they were left only with the company of their thoughts.
It was mostly quiet for a few minutes. They could vaguely make out the muffled sounds of talking—fighting, more accurately. It sounded angry. As if these invasive strangers were demanding something.
They choked back a sob as the walls shook around them due to the noise. A scream, then a gunshot, then another, and then silence.
Through the silence, they could discern the sound of wet slicing. Their heart dropped further into the endless pit of their stomach as they tried their best to curl further into themselves and the pile of coats.
Click, click, click...
Heels, gradually getting louder as their wearer approached. Someone was coming. Someone was going to find them.
It all happened far too quickly.
...And now, before them, none other than the Fourth of the Fatui Harbingers was kneeled. It was not hard for her to find them, not with all their shuffling and shaking and heavy, anxious breathing.
Interestingly, she was far less threatening than what they thought she might be. They didn't doubt that she had the capacity to be absolutely horrifying, but with them...
"You can come out now," she encouraged. Her tone could hardly be described as forceful; if anything, she was... suprisingly gentle. Patient, even, as she held out her hand invitingly. It was as if she were coaxing a frightened animal out from its hiding place. "There is no longer anything to be afraid of."
Still, they hesitated. "Where—" Their throat was dry with terror and their little voice trembled as it came out. With shaking hands, they moved some of the coats off of them. The Knave did note, however, that they clung to one particlar coat; it must have belonged to one of their parents, if she had to guess. Children clung onto sentimental items like that. They swallowed and tried again: "Where are my parents?"
"They are no longer with us. I am sincerely sorry. Had I arrived sooner, they might have lived."
A tremble shook their whole body—whether it was from the cold seeping into their house through the open front door (though the room they were in was a few twists and turns in a hallway away, the Snezhnayan cold was a unique beast in that it could turn a house frigid in a matter of seconds) or from grief, they could not be sure.
"Where..." They sniffled, hands balled into small fists as they tried to rub away the tears gathering in their eyes. "What do I do? I don't wanna be alone..."
"You won't be," Arlecchino said. "You will come with me. You will never be alone again."
All they could do was stumble out of the closet, coat held firmly in their hands and nod. Where else were they supposed to go? Furthermore, how were they meant to say no to a Fatui Harbinger? She was kind enough to offer to take them somewher, and truly, anywhere would have been better than the cold and lonely house in which their parents were killed.
Though, it was greatly debatable whether the Fourth was being kind or opportunistic.
At their young age, they couldn't wrap their mind around any ulterior motives she may have had. They could not so much as consider such a thing, not when she so kindly and tenderly took the coat from their hands, wrapped it around their shivering body, and hoisted them up into her arms. She radiated a warmth that they could not help but lean into, head coming to rest on her squared and confident shoulder. It was not so unbearbly cold when they were in her arms.
One might regard her mannerisms... parental, as if she had great experience with young children and their needs. It surely seemed so, considering how effortlessly and fluidly she handled them. It was like she had done it a million times before.
Indeed, it would not be surprising if that were the case.
Arlecchino hummed, adjusting their weight in her arms slightly.
Then, her nails softly raked over their head and through their hair. Her smooth, self-assured voice reached their ears with a command they could not deny or resist:
"Rest for now, little one."
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