Latest Posts by victorias-fic-recs - Page 3

irresistible

✧ genre: xiao, albedo, childe, zhongli, and diluc x gn! reader fluff

✧ warnings: none

✧ summary: what the genshin men simply cannot resist about you

✧ note: this is basically genshin men being simps for you (as inspired by one direction's song), as they should be <33 this is a little break from some of the angst that has been appearing in my posts for a while now so yes take some of this simple fluff and i hope you guys enjoy ^^

XIAO

the adeptus finds that your touches spark a longing in him that has him wanting more every time.

he always indulges in your sweet touches, whether they are biref or lingering on his skin.

during the times he's still a bit hesitant to intiate physical affection, he relishes in the way you'd slowly take his hand in yours.

he absolutely loves it when you lean your head onto his shoulder whenever you two are sat beside each other.

his face flushes a deep shade of red everytime and you can tell he's flustered by the way he clears his throat but even then, he'd never shrug you off or ask you to lean away.

he may be rendered a little speechless but he secretly loves any sort of affection you give him.

when he gets more open in your relationship, he'll start to initiate smaller acts of affection.

he'll get close enough to brush his hand over yours, glancing at you birefly as if to silently ask whether you were fine with him taking you hand.

or when you both are spending a night at the balcony of wangshuu inn, he'll stand close enough for your shoulders to touch.

his touches aren't that big and showy, but xiao doesn't ask for much. even the smallest contact with you sends his heart soaring and pounding loudly in his chest anyways.

ALBEDO

your local alchemist cannot get enough of your eyes.

the way they glimmer and shine with joy, or the way they look at new things with such wonder and curiosity, he just loves them.

as a scientist, he likes to observe things and take little mental notes in his head. that's why he always stares at your eyes whenever you're doing anything.

whenever you're talking to him about anything your passionate about, unlike most people who stare at lips, albedo would intently look you in the eyes.

he enjoys watching how your eyes sparkle with so much passion and love, is so absorbed in the way they widen slightly when you realize he's staring at them.

he'd do nothing but smile at you softly and tell you, "do you know your eyes glitter like the stars when you talk like this, love?"

even when you're focused on something, sometimes he'll tear hus attention away from his work to look at how concentrated your eyes are on your work.

whenever you two are in the opposite corner of a room for some reason, your eyes will always catch albedo's

his heart breaks when you cry though because your eyes only shimmer with tears and pain.

would definitely wipe your tears away and ask you to close your eyes, planting sweet kisses on your eyelids in hopes that it would make you feel better.

CHILDE

this man finds your lips completely irresistible and he will never get enough of them.

unlike albedo, he's the type of person who would stare at your lips when you talk enthusiastically about something.

he'd interupt your speech with a quick peck to the lips. it stuns you for a bit when he says, "sorry, baby. you looked adorable talking like that i couldn't resist."

childe would definitely ask you for some type of kiss every single day you live.

his day instantly brightens whenever you greet him with a peck to the cheeks, hair, forehead, etc.

kiss him anywhere and his lips will begin to turn up to form a thankful smile.

he'd always reciprocate with a kiss of his own to your lips, basking in the warmth and love they provide him.

he seems a bit clingy because of this, but you can't blame him when your lips are just that soft and addicting.

on days when he's tired and worn out, your kisses act like a little energy recharge for him. kiss him once and he feels like he could defeat the entirety of teyvat.

he always feels reassured and comforted when you give him a kiss. that's something he rarely feels as a harbinger, so whenever you kiss him he makes sure to treasure it and of course, reciprocate it.

ZHONGLI

zhongli cannot get enough of your words, the way you talk.

we all know he's around 6,000 years old so he knows millions of stories and has an endless amount of knowledge and wisdom.

still, he listens intently to any stories you have for him.

it doesn't even need to be stories, you can tell him about anything and he'd still look at you with such fondness and affection.

he absolutely loves it when you ramble on and on to him. he thinks it's adorable how much you know about a certain topic.

zhongli also lives for your little praises, thanks, and "i love you"s.

whenever you compliment him about anything, pride and love makes his heart swell, a small smile adorning his features.

mutters a little, "thank you, my dearest," before placing a small kiss to the top of your head.

bottom line, he will never get tired of hearing talk about absolutely everything and anything. even on days when you don't have much to say, he loves to hear your voice.

this man trusts you immensely and he holds your words to the highest regard so anything that comes from your mouth is precious to him.

DILUC

your smile is something that will always make diluc's day a lot better.

he just finds your smile so contagious and comforting. he is unable to stop a smile of his own from making its way onto his features whenever he sees it.

he would give anything to see any type of smile grace your beautiful features.

he takes mental notes on what you love just so he could brighten both your day as well as his.

in the mornings, when your both in the comfort of your own home, he'd always peck your cheek.

as a bonus, he'd wrap his arms around your smaller figure too.

he basks in the warmth you give when you lean into his chest, adoring the way a smile automatically comes to form on your lips.

often times he would get you some of your favorite snacks or flowers before heading home as well.

his heart completely melts when your eyes widen with surprise. he definitely pecks your forehead when you smile and tell him, "oh, diluc... you didn't need to, but thank you so much. i love them."

your smile heals him and dispels all the fear, sadness, and frustration he holds. he would do everything in his power to make sure you never lose such a beautiful thing.

taglist (send an ask to be added or removed): @toracius @cxlrose @chichikoi @datu-tadhana @xyliope @simplyxsinned @yaqui-soba @inky-page @mooscutely @spookii-does-stuff @the-gayest-sky-kid @yuezhong @mikachu2x @callmemeelah @xsunaryn @tiredzephh @motherscrustytoenailclippings @xxsweetdreamzxx @irethepotato @favonius-captain @aweebstuff

© withloveajaxx 2022. please do not copy, plagarize, or translate in any way.

petrichor.

# — pairing: kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha

# — warnings: brief description of making out

# — tags: fluff, modern au, reader's got it bad for kazuha, yes this is self-indulgent, tiny angst drop

# — notes: i'll go stand in the naughty corner now. it's almost 4 am and i'm still stuck on masked kazuha. i was supposed to sleep. i'll stop now, promise. as always, reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

wanna join the tag list?

✧ — 🍁 — ✧

"can i...?"

you tentatively reach towards his mask, your fingers hovering over the material in question. the man before you reaches up and closes his hand around your wrist gently. "what are you asking for?" he asks in return.

you swallow thickly, your mouth suddenly too dry for you to form the right words. you wish you could see his eyes better so you could have a clue as to what he's thinking. you only ever know that he's looking at you from the way the hairs on your body stand on end. right now, your entire body is on alert, prickling at the feeling of being watched. "i..." you reply dumbly. "i don't know."

"you're lying." he tugs you closer by your wrist, so that your nose is practically touching that of the mask. if his face was uncovered, you would be sharing a breath. "tell me the truth." his voice, though muffled by the mask, cuts straight through your senses. outside, rain begins to fall, the battering of raindrops on your windows filling the silences left between his words. "what do you want?"

it amazes you, it really does, how you've come to this point with him. three months ago, you were afraid that this man would turn his katana on you for having seen him carrying out his missions. you were, and still are, a liability, one that he should have taken care of long, long ago. yet here you sit, across from the man whose true name you don't even know, shuffling in place as you hesitate to ask to kiss him.

your feelings for this man, who introduced himself as 'momiji' for the sake of anonymity, came as no shock to you. call it cliché, but it was impossible not to fall for this masked stranger. he's the reason why you walked away from your first encounter with your life; he's the reason why your first aid stock has tripled in size over the past few weeks; he's the reason why your friends have had to shake you out of a daze at least once everyday.

and though he carries a lethal weapon on his person at all times, and though you've seen him in action, drawing blood from the throats of many a man, he's carved out a space for himself in a corner of your heart and securely tucked himself away.

the man's grip tightens on your wrist. "are you not going to answer me?"

you blink yourself back into reality. this is why your friends tease you these days. "no, that's not it." you hurry your response. you had a plan to answer him but got so lost in your thoughts that you forgot it. now that you've remembered where you are and what it is that you want from him, you find yourself back at square one.

you trust this man with your life and from the way he acts around you, you assume he trusts you with his. he wouldn't let you tend to his wounds so often if he didn't, you remind yourself. you have to tell yourself that you trust him, you do, and you respect his decision to keep his identity a secret, but no longer can you dampen your curiosity. that, coupled with your feelings for him, have led you here.

you let your fingers brush the side of his mask. it's made of a firm plastic, you note, and it covers the entirety of his face. you can't even see the corners of his eyes like this. "you know... that i trust you, right?" you whisper.

the masked man breathes a soft chuckle. you wonder what his smile looks like. "haven't i told you that that's a bad idea already?"

he has. many times. "then why do you keep giving me reasons to?" you retort. you admit that you sound a bit childish, but in your defense, he didn't have to make good on his promise to ensure your safety during the nighttime. after your fourth meeting, he promised to watch over you whenever you headed home from work. from that day onward, you hadn't had any run-ins with muggers or shady figures. it was always only him, if and when you came across him. how could you not trust him?

"touché," he agrees, letting go of your hand. he's letting his guard down. "i've been too nice to you."

"still, i wanted to thank you," your words come out rushed and airy, and you pull yourself back a few inches for your sanity, "for keeping me safe... and alive, i guess."

there's a snicker from beneath the mask. "you guess?" he releases your wrist. "i won't reject your gratitude," he folds his arms over his chest, "but you first need to tell me why you were reaching for my mask."

you suddenly feel the confidence bleeding out of you. "i, um.. it's tied to my, uh.. gift. for you." you hate that you spent days working up the courage to be so bold with someone like him, and now all of your hard work was crumbling by the second.

but for someone with quick reflexes, he sure is slow to catch on. he tilts his head silently, encouraging you to continue. you try to drown out your apprehension with the sound of the rain pouring outside. you move closer to the man, trying to rebuild the foundations of your confidence.

"i won't ask you to take off your mask." you lean back in to where you were before, your eyes scanning the mask. you wish you had x-ray vision right about now. you can practically feel the way the man examines you up close. you wish you could see the way he's focusing on you and you alone. "not completely."

he sits up straighter. "you want to see a part of my face?" he's quiet as he seemingly thinks it over. "i don't think i can--"

"i want to kiss you." you finally blurt. your face begins to burn. "if... if you'll allow me to. if not, that's okay. i just think this would be... an adequate reward for saving my life." when he says nothing for more than thirty seconds, any and all conviction you may have had vanishes. "alright then."

but just as you start to move away, he takes your wrist in hand again, and you freeze. "where... do you plan on kissing me?"

you gawk at him, too stunned to speak. instead of replying verbally, you just tap at your own lips. was he agreeing, then? you screw up your face a bit before you chuckle, the peculiarity of his question finally settling. "where else would i kiss you?"

"fair point." he places your hand on his mask then, and nods slightly. "not my whole face." his words are a warning. you'd be remiss if you didn't pick up on that.

your throat closes up, choking you. you nod in return, not trusting your voice. you hook your fingers on the underside of the mask and your knuckles brush his chin. already, your heart is fluttering in your chest; you think it stupid, considering how you've already seen him half-undressed by this point. slowly (and without breathing), you push the mask up, revealing his lips.

the lips of another person shouldn't be so astonishing to you. everyone has them, and it's not like you were expecting him to not have any, but you most certainly weren't expecting them to be so... pretty, for lack of a better word. entranced by him, you trace his cupid's bow with your thumb, your eyes widening at how soft his lips feel against your fingertip.

his lips start to curl into what you assume is a smile. pretty, you think -- it's all you can think. pretty, pretty, pretty.

"is this how you kiss people nowadays?" his smile only grows, revealing the prettiest set of white teeth.

your brain switches on at his taunt. "you're pretty." you tell him matter-of-factly. "this is all i'll ever get to see of you, so i'm taking my time."

that shuts him up immediately. his mouth opens and closes a few times before he gives up with a sigh. "i see."

you lean closer, close enough that your lips are almost brushing his. "are you sure about this?" you ask him one final time. maybe it's just you, but you feel a sobering sense of finality. the last thing you want is for this to be the last you see of this man.

rather than answer you, he takes your face in one hand and closes what little distance there was between you two. plush lips press against your own and you gasp, obviously not expecting this. you move your lips hesitantly and he does the same, taking your breath away. the sound of your lips connecting does wonders for your heart, each one burying itself deep into your memory. you savor every bit of him that he gives you, not letting a single second pass you by.

then, he pleasantly surprises you with more. he pauses the kiss for a bit to whisper something special.

"kazuha." his voice is on the deeper side and his lips are still hovering over yours. before you can ask what that's supposed to mean, he slots his mouth over yours again. it isn't until his tongue brushes your bottom lip that you realize he just told you his name.

kazuha. kazuha, kazuha, kazuha. it plays like a broken record in your head and you whisper it like a prayer when you let him deepen the kiss. it gives your feelings -- your love -- some more meaning. he takes your every iteration and swallows it down as he licks into your mouth, returning the favor with some mutters of your name as well.

outside, the rain continues to pour, bathing you two in the moment.

✦ i... i have no words. but i realize that i have revealed that i wanna make out with kazuha, and that i have a thing for kazuha with a mask and saying his name over and over. just.. kazuha. that's it.

Found My Home

Pairing: Inumaki Toge x reader 

WC: 1.2k

Warnings: Blood mention but nothing severe. Pure fluff, SFW. No gendered terms are used for reader.

A/N: For sweet @mid-night-blossoms​mid-night-blossoms​ 500 follower Flower collab. I am very excited, Inumaki is my soft boy besides Yuta but I hardly write dialogue and who’s a better fit?

Flower: White Carnation: Pure love, innocence 

There is beauty in tender care and loving silence, a symphony of emotions in words unspoken when skinship yearns to become more intimate. Lingering touches, shoulders knocked together playfully and fingers brushing against one another when walking on a street closer together than necessary. Laughter that aches so jovially and smiles that never fade. 

He’s fiercely protective of his friends, Toge tells himself that’s why he watches out for you often when in a crowded setting or when you’re talking to someone he’s never met before. You’re so trusting, welcoming, a warming presence he gravitates to often. He believes you’re too good for this world, that your heart and soul would truly be the end to curses by their warmth alone. You’re a healing aura he can’t help but gravitate to, how fiercely you care for others and the worry that etches into your features for their health. 

Toge can’t help the way his heart races the first time you see the toll his cursed speech takes on him, the raw pain of the ordeal. He is powerful and effective but you can’t help but lament, agonize over the severity of the abuse. He smiles and waves it away, it’s not very convincing considering the blood that stains his lips and trails down his chin. You can see how tired he is, skin slick with sweat from the exertion. You chastise him, tell him it’s not ‘no big deal’ in the flippant manner he dismisses it. 

Keep reading

May I request a fake dating scenario with Childe? (sorry i know its cliche but its my favorite trope🙈) Perhaps he and f reader are on an undercover mission to gain intel at a function, like a dinner party or a festival of some sort, and Childe is way more interested in committing to the bit than the mission itself. Like, he intentionally took on an easy mission so that he could indulge in his time with the reader because he "takes his job seriously" or something like that😏

Fatui operative reader*

—

“You said you’d take this seriously.” You chided him, pushing for the fifth time his hand away from your hip while you looked through the crowd for your target. It should have been a rather easy mission: get close enough to the ambassador that they’ll tell you about the incoming shipment. Once you got what you needed you’d inform the other operatives waiting near the docks, they’d sneak in during the night and lift all the goods before anyone grew wise to the situation. However, after much pestering from a specific Harbinger, this simple task was turning into a headache inducing nightmare.

“I am, dear.” He ran his finger over your ear and out of your peripherals you caught sight of the calculating grin that pulled one side of his lips.

“You don’t have to pretend right now, no ones looking at us.” Pretending to rummage through your pouch, you noticed a esteemed looking figure walking through the door, someone as elegantly dressed as that must be your ambassador. “She’s here.” You whispered, nudging your chin in her direction and slipping the money pouch back in your side bag. “Let’s get closer.”

“Don’t get to hasty, let’s see what she does.” Childe moved behind you, his hand sliding over your back and making you hyper aware of each and every inch he occupied. His chest somehow so noticeable even though he never touched you with it, the proximity of him as he leaned against the wall and draped his arm over your shoulder before pulling you closer made your brain fuzzy and, for a moment, you lost sight of her. “Can you make out what she’s saying?” He spoke in a lower tone, an attempt to keep his words only for you or … was he trying to make you shiver.

Carefully, you focused your attention on her lips. Eyes squinting against the light as you tried to decipher what she was saying. The expression on her face shifted from one of familiarity to irritation, but it was so slight and quickly replaced by a smile her companion never caught it. “She’s upset.”

“Why?”

You opened your mouth to explain only to be cut off by his arm sliding off your shoulder so his hand could run down your back. The slow trail he made up and down your spine made you furious; you were trying to do your job, trying to get what you needed and to not be swayed, distracted by the pounding of your heart or the hot breaths you took while sharing the intel. “Sh-she’s asking why the shipments late.” Stopping his hand with your clenching fingers, you pushed his wrist back toward his chest and swore you heard a soft giggle at your side. Coughing, you continued. “It looks like he’s telling her it’ll be here soon.”

“Are the goods on the boat, look closely.” With a sigh, you strained your eyes to see, took in everything that you could in order to see her mouth form the shapes you needed to see.

“Yes!” You shouted a little louder than you anticipated and, because of that, the ambassadors turned toward you. You felt completely see-through under her eyes, a stab of fear shot through your heart when she looked at you, directly at you. In one fell swoop, Childe lifted you in the air and spun you around so much you lost your balance and you weren’t even using your own legs. “Ch-!”

“You said yes!! You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.” He let you slide down his chest but before you could fully grasp it all, he moved in and soon your lips were covered by his. The tight grip you had on his shoulders began to relax, your toes touched the ground but he continued to hold you; arms wrapped around your body, mouth commanding yours with lips so heavy you wondered how he exerted so much pressure onto them. When he released you, the air in your lungs came rushing in all at once while your mind did it’s best to refocus.

Things faded in slowly. Childe’s thank you’s to an applauding crowd, the drifting sound of your heart as it began to slow, the heat of your cheeks as you hid against his chest.

“She’s gone, we should follow her just in case.” He whispered into your hair, hand resting against your back while yours shook against his chest.

“You did that on purpose.”

“What makes you say that, comrade.” Lifting your eyes to see him, taking in every ounce of deviousness that radiated off his skin, you knew this partnership would be the death of you.

“Yo-you shouldn’t tease people like that.”

“Am I not allowed to tease my sweetheart? Where’s the fun in that.”

“I’m not really your sweetheart, remember.”

“Who says?” Childe ran his fingers over your ear until they found the back of your neck and you swore his intentions were clear as he leaned in for another kiss. Why was he so good at this fake dating ruse, it wasn’t fair. Your heart shouldn’t be so affected by this and yet …

“Childe …” Your eyes fluttered closed and you prepared for a kiss that never came. “Childe?”

“Expecting something, comrade? Our friends getting away.” Everything slammed back together as if he had slowly pulled you apart moments ago; how was he able to do that so easily? Frustrated, you clenched your jaw and pushed past him but when he ran after you only to slip his hand into yours it took everything you had to hold back a confused and irritated scream building in your throat while he easily let fall laughter that made your heart weak.

Bitter Eclipse # i. toge

↳ Inumaki would've offered you a sip of his coffee ages ago if he knew what came next.

pairing: inumaki toge x gn!reader

genre: fluff, non-jujutsu!au.

warning(s): obnoxious prose.

word count: 1.5k

author’s note: edited this in between study sessions lol but hello inumaki nation!! i hope he's doin okay... wherever he is...

Inumaki knows the question poised at the tip of everyone’s tongue when he first meets them. Rarely are they ever upfront about it in the beginning, but by the third or fourth encounter, the words slip past their lips and fester in the dust moted air with a life of its own.

“So, what’s the deal with the mask?”

Their shoulders always slacken, chests falling, as if their curiosity had swelled so ponderously that just uttering these words bring them reprieve.

But they are never satiated by his answer—his lack of one, because Inumaki has no justification.

“Is it a hygiene thing?”

He was reared to uphold a minimum standard of cleanliness in the Inumaki household—not that there were any stringent rules regarding the practice, more a sitting down and scolding to when he wore shoes inside or forgot to store his toys away—but he isn’t particularly scrupulous about sanitation.

“Is it a self-esteem thing?”

Sure, he’d been riddled with insecurities as a teen—what teen wasn’t? But he’s in his twenties now, and though he’s still plagued with a few doubts, Inumaki isn’t so beleaguered by them he’d shroud half his face in fabric.

“So, what is it?”

All he always offers in response is a non-committal toss of his shoulders.

Then, their question sprouts fangs, grows talons, cultivates a blood-lust tailored for an ‘acceptable’ answer because a shrug isn’t one. But—reluctantly—irrespective of all these phylogenies, their interest retreats into whatever dingy fissure it came from and lies in wait for another time. Momentarily, at least.

They nod and say ‘Ah’ as if in understanding, but he knows they want a better explanation. Maybe they think that if they wait long enough, their patience will be rewarded. That maybe Inumaki will reveal the deep, dark secret behind his mask if they become good enough friends. This never happens.

Inumaki has no grim ailment behind his decision. He wears masks because he likes them.

He’s not upset by the intrigue; it’s reasonable. So because he knows people inevitably cave in to their curiosity, he’s made a game out of it. He’s no hedonist, but thrills are scarce. Who would he be to reject them?

The game: How many meetings will it take until the fabled question arises?

Current record: 37.

Current record holder: you.

No, scratch that. The current record is 38, including right now.

“So, what did you think of the movie?” you ask, swaddled in a puffer jacket and scarf, breath pluming in cold wisps before you.

Inumaki shrugs and leans back into the decaying wooden bench, running his nail along his paper cup of coffee, the sides ridged with crests and troughs.

You tip your head back, eyelashes glimmering with moonlight. “It was boring, huh?”

A hum of agreement resonates from the well of his throat, and you smile. You take no offense to his reticence. Most people do, and he doesn’t blame their frustration, which makes patience—from his friends, from you—all the more appreciated.

“At least the desserts were okay, right?”

He nods and takes a sip of his coffee. A cat café hadn’t been a part of the itinerary, but with tongues waxed by cheap popcorn and bitter disappointment, the tabbies and persians lounging by the window were impossible to resist.

Inumaki hadn’t minded, especially since you’d asked for a taste of his strawberry tart and leaned forward, mouth open, instead of plucking the fork from his fingers. When he’d fed you, heat simmered in his abdomen. You’d haloed with a smile and hummed at the sour tang, the indulgent cream cheese, pleased. It was cute. You were cute.

If someone had been watching, would they have mistaken you two as a couple? He wasn’t opposed to the idea.

Now, he tips his coffee towards you in silent invitation.

“I can have some?” you ask, eyes flickering from him to his drink.

Inumaki realised months ago that you like sharing your food. He’s not the type to—he knows his own penchants well enough that he’s never tempted to try someone else’s order—but he likes the way you beam when he offers.

You take the cup, fingers grazing his. The sensation is something he finds himself yearning for recently.

He tugs his mask back over his face as you cautiously take a sip. It’s a gradual shift; you lower the cup, throat bobbing as you swallow, eyebrows pinched in the way Inumaki knows they do when you’re deliberating. Then, the corner of your lips are quirking, the apples of your cheeks raising, eyes crinkling, glinting as you grin at him.

“It’s really good!” you say, handing it back. “Not too bitter.”

He’s gone out one-on-one with you eighteen times now. They’re not dates, he’ll remind himself,  but he still frets over which outfit to wear and whether he’s worn it before every time. They’re not dates, but heat still pools in his cheeks when your hands brush together walking side-by-side, crescents carved into his palms as he digs his nails into them to curb the intensity of his emotions. They’re not dates, but he wishes they were.

Inumaki doesn’t know what possesses him. Maybe it’s the lucence of your smile, so sweet, so delighted, or the vestiges of warmth from the phantom touch of your fingertips, or the way moonlight limns you pearlescent, like you’re forged of it, spun from its finely woven threads, seeping luminescence into him, to embrace every inch of Inumaki down to the very bone.

Or maybe its the coffee foam rimming your cupid’s bow.

Whatever it is, he reaches forward—eyes trained to your lips, to how they’re parted, the carnation pink of your tongue peeking from behind gleaming teeth—and swipes the foam away, his other fingers cupping your jaw with a ghost’s touch. Your lips are plush beneath the pad of his thumb, and Inumaki has to physically rend himself from staring at the pliant give of them, from imagining how they would feel against his own.

He flashes the foam dotting his finger towards you as reasoning for his actions. You stare at it, at him, and he retracts, wiping the residue on his pants. Your index and middle finger hover over where he’d touched you, as if he’d left something behind: a mark, a burn, a crater.

Shit. He messed up. Inumaki messed up. He’d crossed an unspoken boundary and now the repercussions were going to sink its teeth into and devour him whole. He should apologise—

But before the words can manifest, your lips are pressed against his.

Everything, every sensation, every sound, smell, sight, engulfs him all at once. The cant of your head, the weight of your palm resting on his thigh, the redolence of your perfume, the rustle of your jacket as you angle your body towards his.

Insistent, soft, delicate, even through the material of his mask he can feel the velvet heat of your lips eclipsing his own; moonlight ephemeral, an iridescent fever, opaline and benevolent and intoxicating.

Then it’s gone, as quick as it came; a fleeting whisper, a promise.

You kissed him. You’d just kissed him. Through his mask.

“Thanks,” you whisper, breathless, as if you’d done it with fervour, as if he’d kissed you the way he’d been dying to, the way he’d been dreaming of for weeks.

The pressure of your hand against his thigh begins dissipating as you pry yourself away, intent on leaving him with nothing more than a sliver of what could be, what he’s craved for who knows how long.

Inumaki’s familiar with his tastes. He always knows what he wants. And right now is no different.

So he envelopes your wrist with his fingers, fixing your hand in place, feeling the thrum of your pulse as he yanks his mask down and leans closer.

Inumaki’s a man of very few words because he is of the philosophy that each one should matter, that they should mean something. And he’s never meant anything more in his life than when he whispers, “Again.”

Cold nips at his bare lips, the tip of his nose. It doesn’t matter. He can feel the heat suffusing from you, and he knows that it’ll be more than enough.

Inumaki is drawn to you like the tides, in umbra from the force with which he yearns for your opalescence, for you. He can taste it: the unbridled heat of your lips, the coffee melted on your tongue, the whipped cream from your dessert, the ardour of mingling breaths.

“Do it again,” he whispers, barely even that, but you’re so close now that it’s impossible you hadn’t heard, that you don’t feel the weight of it blanketing the two of you.

And when you do kiss him again, Inumaki himself wonders what he likes so much about masks.

; yours

# childe x gn!reader

# cw: slightly? very?? suggestive, mildly nsfw ig, no smut tho, fluff, messy kisses and hickies and spoilers for childe’s real name :3

# note: thank u to @hawq-s for encouraging my horniness lmao, this is my first time posting something as suggestive as this, i for one do not know how to place hickies this is entirely from my knowledge from reading :’)

synopsis — childe asks you to give him hickies, but you don’t know how. fortunately childe is very willing to teach you.

you were washing the dishes just after dinner when childe came up from behind you, his hands slipping around your waist. you glance back at him and frown when you see him pouting at you.

“what’s up with you?” you ask, looking back at the dishes you’re washing.

he pouts some more and huffs out “give me a hickey, babe.”

the glass you’re rinsing almost slips from your fingers, you take a breath and put the glass down and turn to him. he pulls back slightly, his hands slipping down to your hips. “what?” you’re proud of yourself from holding back a stutter.

but childe has always been able to read you like an open book, he grins. “c’mon, gimme a hickey, pretty one.”

you avoid his gaze and look past him, this time when you answer him, you faill to answer smoothly. “i… i don’t know how, childe.”

you see him blink and you swallow, then he’s grinning wider, one full of teeth and you’re sure you saw his eyes glint.

“aw, that’s too bad.”

and then he’s leaning closer, his breathe tickling your face. “then, how about i teach you?”

Keep reading

LIGHTNING ON THE SUNNIEST DAY.

🍁 a kazuha x gn!reader fanfic.

wc. 12k. genre. angsty fluff, fluffy angst.

warnings. spoilers for kazuha's backstory (story is set when he joins beidou), mentions of death.

overview. you, y/n endo, are the endo clan's heir. your life has been spent within your home, learning only what you should know for your pre-decided life ahead. but then you meet kazuha, who, despite being similar in carrying an honorable family name, is your opposite in many other ways. he seeks the unknown, and enjoys sleeping under the stars with the night breeze.

the moment you realize you've fallen for him, he's about to join a sailing crew and you might not ever see him again.

if you can't change his mind, you'll have a decision to make.

The chatter of The Crux’s going-away party overwhelmed your senses as you pushed your way through the crowds. There were seamen’s laughter and sailors’ tales, families coming together for what they all hoped wouldn’t be the last time, and the fond but implicitly forlorn clinking of glasses, but so far, you hadn’t heard the sound you were listening for.

To attend such a gathering was rare for you. As an heir to a family of peace-seeking anchorites, festivities of loud mariners and alcohol tended to make you uncomfortable and queasy, but your current quest made these disinclinations less consequential. Finding him — and convincing him to stay, at least a little longer — was all you desired.

The person in question, a noble and well-spoken member of a clan, similar to yourself, was one of the most recent additions to the Crux’s team. You’d known him to be observant and empathetic, so you thought that your chances convincing him not to leave wouldn’t be hopeless. However, the trick was catching him at the right time, when he wasn’t surrounded by people that might convince him otherwise.

This was not the right time. For as soon as you spotted him, standing on the edge of a crowd with The Crux’s captain, he caught your eye and showed a small smile. Before you knew what was happening, he’d said something to the captain and she was calling you.

“Well, if it isn’t the Endo heir! Come and wish your flower-tongued friend farewell!” As you approached, you could hear her muttering something about flowers and Kazuha smiled at you.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” he said gently. You didn’t like to romanticise things but you couldn’t help but mentally correlate his voice to a cool evening breeze during a clear sunset, with leaves dancing and birds chirping. It hardly felt like a romanticization, but more of a balanced metaphor.

“I had to see you,” you said directly. “I’d regret not coming.”

He studied you. “There’s something on your mind.”

“I’m—” You cut yourself off, ducking to avoid someone’s drunken gestures next to you. You gave him a pained look. “Can’t we go somewhere a little more peaceful?”

He pressed his lips together. “If you came later, Beidou would be a little more intoxicated and a little less insistent that I stay in the room. But I haven’t yet attempted to leave, so we can try now.”

You made a wary glance in Beidou’s direction. She seemed like a straight-forward and careless person, and the very type of loud person that made you uncomfortable. Her getup was loud and revealing. She was dressed like a pirate, no less. Aggressive laughter echoed out her mouth over a comment, and she patted the top of Kazuha’s light-coloured head. “He’ll be fine. Being at sea becomes a home to everyone and I’m sure this fella will be no different.”

He glanced at her with a gentle smile.

You felt a sinking feeling and clenched a fist. “Can we hurry?”

“You two goin’ somewhere?” Beidou asked, tilting her head. Her words were slurred. “Before you go off to sniff the trees or whatever it is you do, can’t you give us some poetic words? Going off to see is something I’m looking forward to, but I’m sure you must feel pretty sad about leaving your homeland behind, eh? C’mon, set the mood a little, hm?”

He mulled the request over. “I’m not all too unhappy about leaving. I’m grateful to you and your crew for offering me this opportunity. I hope to be of help to all of you, and learn as much about being at sea as I can.” As he finished, he pursed his lips and his eyes darted away.

Beidou pouted at this. “Aw, buddy. I’m glad you’re comin’ with us, Kazuha.” She raised her cup for what was probably not the first time that night, and the crowd around her did the same with a cheery chorus of agreement.

So loud, you thought again, but now the two of you were walking towards the exit.

You followed Kazuha for some time in silence, up a hill so that you had a nice and ironic view of the sea. He turned to you with a pleasant expression. “I can only presume,” he began, speaking slowly with his haunting eye contact, “that the reason you wanted to talk to me was in order to convince me not to go on the Alcor.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out. Of course, you should have expected him to know your intentions but surprise and intense foreboding consumed you, and you remained quiet.

He continued. “I understand your need for uniformity and dependency, but you put that at risk by associating with me. I grow uneasy staying in one place. I’ve told you this before, and it wasn’t just for the fluff of conversation. I continued to warn you, Endo Y/N, that I’d leave. But no, you are still trying.”

You pursed your lips.

“How do you intend to convince me to stay?” he asked. “It’s not impossible, you know. Nothing is impossible with me, although staying in one place is certainly… not my first choice.”

“I just wish you could stay longer,” you said. “I’ve been more happy with you than I’ve been my whole life. It just feels like you leaving is going to rip that all away and I’ll be back where I was.”

“You depend on me too much for your happiness.”

“Is that wrong?”

A soft, post-dusk breeze stirred your hair and clothing. Kazuha’s ruby eyes gazed into the night sky as a sage look overtook his countenance. “If I truly made you happy, Y/N, then you’d have learned how to be happy without me. True joy is the ability to carry it with you even when the circumstances call not for it.”

There he went, spouting off wisdom to you instead of giving you a straight answer. And making your heart pound.

“What if…” you began, trailing off. Would you regret saying this, with full knowledge he didn’t feel the same way? But there was no stopping your mouth. Maybe this was the one thing he needed to hear to stay behind. “What if I loved you?”

He looked at you and not a word left his mouth. He stepped towards you and for a moment, although you knew it was the least likely thing for him to do, you thought he might kiss you.

He rested a slender hand on your shoulder and leaned past your mouth towards your ear.

“Then I’d suggest you come along,” he whispered. Your heart fluttered at the feeling of his light breath on your neck. He leaned back with a smile, looking a tad smug. “Hm?”

The way he tilted his head at you that evening was almost enough to convince you to drop your whole life to follow him to sea. The words resonated with you the rest of the night and you could hardly sleep. Because adventure had never appealed to you until now, until Kaedehara Kazuha invited you on one.

If you joined The Crux, there was a good chance you’d be expected to do labour. The Endo family you were born into was powerful enough that you’d never really had to dirty your hands. You spent enough time studying martial techniques and arguing with your older siblings and finding comfort within the walls of your own home. Your life was planned out for you, and you were happy about that. No worries for the next day, no real use for your skills. It was all recreational, and safe.

A long journey was the last thing you wanted. If you would ever have to engage on a journey it would have to be something utterly necessary. This seemed so frivolous.

Then again, in comparison with most people you knew, you were acting like you had a life to throw away. You knew for a fact that a good number of the guards at your estate would give anything for this kind of opportunity. You understood that their lives were likely more “difficult” than yours but… that meant you shouldn’t take what you had for granted, right? Your life here was perfect, wasn’t it?

But you were unhappy. You’d said so yourself, that you hadn’t been as happy your whole life compared to when Kazuha had been here.

He wouldn’t stay. You knew that.

Perhaps that’s what drove you the next morning to tell Captain Beidou about the invitation you were accepting. It wasn’t a small ordeal getting onto her ship, having to talk to three different people before someone pointed you in the direction of the rowboats. By the time you boarded the Alcor you were already tired enough. You’d gotten a good look at the Alcor’s shape and size now. It was impressive, yes, but slightly overwhelming, with its pointed front and bold red sails. The dragon at the bow was more and more menacing as you drew near.

Beidou’s mood last night had been loose and jolly, but it was clear now that she was already far more happy to be on her ship, as if finally coming home again. She seemed very impatient, but no more difficult to talk to than she’d been last night — no more difficult, but no less, as you were yourself and you found the vulgarity of her speech distracting.

“I was wondering, are you going directly to Liyue Harbour?” you asked. “I have someone I’d like to visit, so if…”

She laughed and shook her head. “Directly to Liyue? What do you think The Crux is, a shipment fleet?”

You didn’t smile back, twiddling your fingers. “I just don’t know if I can last for more than a few days. I’ve hardly been on a boat before.”

“You live on an island and you’ve never been on a boat?”

“Well…”

“Sounds like a problem we’ve gotta fix. Of course, Mx. Endo, if you aren’t brave enough to even try, then by all means don’t bother. But you’re a trained fighter, are you not?”

You nodded. “But I haven’t—”

“That’s enough for me. You’ll be fine, Endo.”

“Yeah! You can help with the sea monsters!” a muscular man said from a few feet away, setting down a crate.

“Juza’s right. Although, again, if sea monsters are too scary for you…”

They did, in fact, sound far too frightening for you, but for whatever reason you hated the cushioning attitude she was giving you. As if she knew you couldn’t handle anything. She didn’t have an unpleasant tone or diction or anything of the like, and you’d been treated like this most of your life without complaint. But this felt different, and you hated it.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll fight all the sea monsters you need me to.”

She laughed at you, and you had a feeling it was out of approval this time. “There it is! Along with the skills, the spirit’s what we need.” She looked somewhere past you and shouted, “Kazuha! Your friend here accepted your invitation!”

You turned to see the ruby-eyed erudite climbing onto deck. He waved, walking towards you. “Y/N,” he said quietly. “I knew you’d join.”

And yet you hadn’t known yourself? “I haven’t completely made up my mind, actually…”

“Sure you have,” Beidou said easily.

What?

“You’re onboard the ship. We’re leaving soon. All you have to do is stick around for it. You came prepared, did you not?” She gestured to your humble luggage.

“I— I haven’t said goodbye to my family—”

“You can write, can’t you? Send a letter while we’re still docked. Keep it short, though. I can get Thoma to deliver it.”

As much as you might deny it, it really was a done deal. With Kazuha here, it was impossible to truly say no to anything anymore. With a letter filled with a certain rebellious tone even you didn’t recognize sealed and handed off, you stood by Kazuha’s side as the crew finished preparing.

“Setting sail!” Beidou ordered. “Lift the anchor!” She continued to shout things to the crew, using words you’d hardly heard before — till, bow, port — and it went on. She seemed so happy. And a good portion of the crew was working just as hard, but they all seemed to resonate the same joy and you couldn’t tell whether it was because of their captain’s influence or simply their own anticipation for being amongst the waves again.

“You alright?” Kazuha asked you, noticing the way you clung to the railing tightly.

“I’ve never… sailed before…” You clenched your teeth, trying to accustom your body to the sway.

You glanced towards Beidou and couldn’t miss the wide grin on her face. “Sailing?” She took a deep breath. “Mm, no. This ain’t sailing. It’s flying.”

Kazuha patted your shoulder. “Look,” he said, pointing forward. “Focus on the horizon. Isn’t it beautiful? Soon, that’ll be all we see.”

“All we…” Your head was hurting a little. You forced a smile at him. “Okay.”

“The weather is going to be exquisite. It’ll be perfect for your first day. It might get a bit hot, though, but the wind will help cool us.”

“Have you sailed before, Kazuha?” you asked. You’d assumed he hadn’t, but it was becoming clear that he had more knowledge of it than you’d expected.

“Not much,” he said. “In comparison with anyone of the crew, hardly at all.”

“So… why…”

“Observation,” he told you, “and a lot of time spent with those who have.”

It occurred to you that someone with such a strong connection to Anemo would have a strong appreciation for the motion of a ship at sea, the marine scents, and the wind rushing past as the speed picked up.

You'd noticed that other than to you and Beidou, he said nothing. He seemed to have a love for silence which you appreciated but wondered about. It seemed to be more of a mournful silence rather than a personal choice, and you were about to ask if something was bothering him but just as you opened your mouth to do so he spoke.

“Beidou said she’d give us a proper tour of the Arcor, if you’re interested?”

You sniffed. “Oh?”

“She said to meet her on the afterdeck.” Your eyes met his in slight confusion and he showed you a slight smile. “Follow me.” He offered you his hand and you took it without hesitation.

He led you down the steps, weaving past crew, posts, crates, ropes, and noise. He didn’t let go when you approached Beidou, and he didn’t let go as she told you all the terms for decks and sails and explained colourfully what her favourite jargon meant. After a bit she noticed you seemed a bit tired, and she showed you and Kazuha into a quieter cabin.

“It’s exhausting even to walk around on the boat,” you observed, slumping into a wooden chair. “I marvel at the crew’s zeal.”

“I’m sure your current lack of energy is due to several things. Of course your body isn’t used to it; you spend a great deal more time in front of books than labour. It’s unusually hot today, even with the wind, which makes you far more sleepy. The empathetic side of you is thinking about how hard everyone else is currently working, and that tires you more. Don’t worry about them, they came onboard with the intention of working.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t come onboard with intention. I hardly know why I’m here.”

“You’re here to keep me company. I’m grateful you joined.”

You sighed heavily, shaking your head. “It’s just so…”

“Different?”

You met his eyes and nodded. “Precisely. I can’t relax.”

“Travelling is the most tiring to those without experience. All you’ve known is your hometown.”

He made it sound like you’d been living your life wrong. You began to feel defensive, raising your voice slightly. “I never thought that was a bad thing.”

“It’s not a question of whether it’s good or bad. It’s simply an observation of the results.”

“Did you invite me along just to ‘observe the results?’”

“No, of course not. I invited you along because you claimed to love me.”

“You’re testing me!”

“I am not testing you, I would never do such a thing. My reasons for—”

“I don’t understand you, Kazuha. Why do you have to act all enigmatic all the time? You’re so pretentious and —”

“Well, Y/N, I guess there’s the truth. You don’t love me, really. You’re intrigued by me because I’m different, but as soon as you’ve decided you’ve ‘figured me out’ I don’t have value anymore. I’m so glad you came along so that we could learn this about each other.”

“And within the first day, too, hm? It’s barely night time. I thought you were supposed to be all calm and thoughtful, so what’s this? Couldn’t even last a day more of pretending?”

Kazuha opened his mouth to reply, his eyes blazing. But then he froze. “Barely night time?”

You pointed out the window. “It’s dark. Are you blind?”

Kazuha leapt up, walking over to the window. He put a hand on the wall next to the glass, tilting his head. “It’s not even twilight yet.”

You stood as well. Your legs felt like lead. “What do you mean? Don’t you see—”

He turned to you. “It’s barely seventeen-hundred hours.”

You blinked at him.

His expression was no longer frustrated; his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were slightly widened. “Y/N, that is not the fall of night.”

You looked out the window again, more carefully this time. It was dark outside — but you could not see the sky. In fact… you couldn’t see more than a few metres of the water. “Fog…?” you muttered.

Kazuha shut his eyes and went completely silent for a few seconds, inhaling through his nose. “It’s like… burning goldwood. Wait—” He glanced at you, and offered you his hand. “Come with me.”

You hesitated. Hadn’t you just been arguing with each other just a few seconds before? He’d said some things you’d never expected to come out of his mouth, things that weren’t like him to verbalise.

You put your hand in his and the two of you dashed on deck, where you realised that it wasn’t just the two of you acting strange. Groups of the crew had dropped whatever they were doing, shouting at each other or breaking into fistfights. Captain Beidou seemed to be aware, and she was trying and failing to convince the chief mate to calm down.

“Juza, snap outta it,” she was saying, and then noticed you. “Oh, you two. You okay?”

“Goldcoral,” he said.

“Yes, I know,” she replied, glancing at you. “Sorry, Endo, I know this isn’t ideal for a first impression of sailing. It is what it is.”

“But what is it?” you asked, feeling out of the loop.

“The top layer of the water boiled. Lots of coral in these parts, and at times Goldcoral rises to the top. It’s a weird stuff, it liquifies quickly — and boils, and — hence the fog, it can be quite thick gas.”

“And it makes people argue?”

“It increases one’s anxiety,” Kazuha explained. “So, yes, as a result.”

“But what do we do?”

Beidou sighed. “Either we have to convince every person on this boat to calm down, or just wait it out. It can’t cover that much distance — probably, anyways. Neither of you are much of a mediator, are ya?”

“Um, no,” you said. You had trouble talking to people you didn’t know in the first place. You would be useless in this situation.

“I think of myself as more of an onlooker than a peacemaker,” Kazuha said. “Besides, I…” He took a look towards the calamity around the rest of the ship and fell quiet. You sensed that there was something he was unwilling to say, but hadn’t any idea what it could be.

“Alright. I know a few people have realised what’s going on ‘cause we’ve been in this situation before.” Beidou made a significant glance towards Kazuha and a pained expression formed on his face for a moment. You’d always known Kazuha to be happy to use his Anemo skills, glad to be helpful or to provide peace to others. His connection with the wind and air always seemed to be an important part of him. Of course he’d agree.

“I— I suppose I could, if it’s really…”

This answer was so unlike him that you had to do a double take. Perhaps it was the coral substance in the air or whatever it was that they had described.

“I don’t want to force you, but even helping our speed through this patch would save our asses. It’s only a matter of time before someone breaks something.”

“I’ll do it.”

You stared at Kazuha but he didn’t return the gaze, following Beidou. You watched him disappear into the mist that had made its way over the boat, and then helplessly crept back into the cabin. Maybe it was the goldcoral, but you were also vaguely aware of the fact that maybe it was only inflating feelings that were already there. Either way, you couldn’t help but feel a little peeved at Captain Beidou for having Kazuha do something he seemed to be against, and you couldn’t help but feel a little peeved at Kazuha for acting differently than usual.

—🍁

It didn’t take long, with Kazuha’s breezy assistance, to reach clear skies and high seas once again. The crew oriented itself, Beidou gave a spiel about Goldcoral directed at newer sailors, and she encouraged them to take some extra water rations to wash any remnants out of their system. Kazuha had not returned to the cabin by dusk, nor had you desired to look for him. You remained in a hammock, mulling over the instance today. Even with your mind cleared, resentment remained in your heart for what he’d said.

“You’re simply intrigued by me because I’m different,” he’d snapped.

Had he been wrong?

You’d spent your life shut up in your home. You had no reason to leave. You had everything you could possibly want, or so you’d thought. But then he came along and his way of life was so different from everything you knew and yes, you were intrigued because he was different. Because he needed different things in life — less things in life. Perhaps his personality was gentle and observant like a breeze, but so was his presence. You knew he'd be gone all too soon, and for whatever reason, that was what grasped you to pursue more time around him.

You hadn't expected that to lead you here, of course. You were believing yourself to have fallen in love with him — why else would you have come here? Or were you believing a lie you'd come up with in order to hang onto something you wanted?

You’d had everything until you met Kazuha. What did that say about how you'd lived your life?

At that moment, the door opened and you turned your head to see who it was. Kazuha nodded at you. He looked greener than usual, and was holding his head.

“You okay?”

“A storm lies ahead,” he said shortly, and with that, he collapsed into the hammock next to yours with a quiet groan.

You knew that Kazuha had difficulty when it came to changing weather, but the contrast between the calm seas outside and Kazuha’s visible distress was somewhat unsettling.

“How bad? And how soon?” you asked, glancing towards the darkened window. The ship’s sway was as gentle as ever. Maybe you'd have a little trouble sleeping only getting used to it, and so you could barely imagine what it would be like during a storm.

During the frequent storms in Inazuma you were accustomed to, you'd easily be able to step into a lower floor and forget about it within minutes. But at sea that might not be an option. How did sailors do it?

“I expect it will be later tomorrow evening. The wind is violent.

You paused. “Are you going to be okay, Kazuha?”

He inhaled sharply and shivered. “Of course. It's only a strong feeling, not a physical ailment. I'll adjust.” His voice, already calculated and soft, broke and he went into a contradictory silence.

A few hours later, sleep seemed no easier to you than it was for him. You were still not used to the sway of the ship, and your head was swimming. Kazuha’s harsh breathing had quelled, but eventually you realised he was whispering something. You didn’t want to intrude — you’d never been in the same room as him while he was sleeping, nor did you know whether he was in fact sleeping. But once he whispered, quite clearly, “I’m sorry,” you had no control over yourself. Something was wrong with him — had been wrong with him — more than he’d let on.

You eased yourself out of your hammock onto the cabin floor. You lost your balance almost immediately, grabbing hold of a post. Then, you made your way through the dark over to Kazuha. He must have heard you moving; he’d gone completely quiet.

“Kazuha,” you whispered. “Are you okay?”

You heard a gentle shuffling and could just barely see his silhouette sitting up. “Why are you awake?” he asked softly, clearly avoiding the question.

“You sounded like you were in a lot of pain. Emotional pain.”

“My past haunts me at times. I do apologize if I was disturbing you.”

He was shutting you down in a way that could only be to avoid talking about it, not because he was angry with you. You debated whether you should push him or not. He was a mysterious young man and you knew only one thing for certain about him — that there would always be more than he was letting on. “If you need to talk about it,” you said, seeking his face unsuccessfully in the darkness, “I’ll listen.”

“I do appreciate your willingness to listen. I know you wouldn't offer any judgement or criticism. This is simply something I can't bear to verbalise.” You had to lean forward to hear him. “I fear it's too fresh in my mind,” he finished no louder than a breath, and sighed silently. You felt air on the front of your face, and your first guess was that it was his breath. But you realised it was cool, like a breeze at twilight. Then, you heard things — shouts of voices, but hollow as if in a tunnel. You heard thunder, too, and in front of your eyes you could see lights that began to form shapes — the shape of Kazuha, rushing towards someone’s collapsed figure, and light flashing from another across the room. But more than anything you got a feeling of understanding, and grief.

The images never came into focus; they were gone already and you were squinting into the darkness. “Was that you?” you asked, your head spinning a little.

“Yes,” he replied as quietly as before, “yes, it was.”

“It was frightening.”

“It was because of me.”

You didn't know the full story, but you knew that Kazuha would never have intended to put someone he loved in danger. “It wasn't your fault,” you said, blindly placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He froze a bit at your touch, showing no signs of returning the action.

“I appreciate the sentiment.” He spoke evenly, and took a deep breath. “You should try to get some sleep, Y/N. You will find the seas to be less forgiving than your daily routine.”

You hesitated. You were left with more questions, and seemed not to have helped him in any way. You squeezed his arm, at last, and stumbled your way back to your hammock, this time finding sleep easily. Just as you drifted, you wondered if Kazuha had done more than simply shown you a vision.

—🍁

It seemed as though despite escaping the boiling goldcoral, some tempers had remained flared overnight. You woke up to yelling from the deck, and you, along with several others, made your way outside to see what it was all about. It was still early dawn and the breeze was biting.

“Our water. Gone. I can’t believe this.” It was Juza’s voice, and he was waving his hands around at two other sailors. “What were you thinking? How could you allow this to happen?”

“It— we weren’t in our right minds yesterday! No one was!” one of them shouted.

The other one stuttered out an explanation. “I was convinced it had been p—poisoned— I was trying to protect the crew, I…”

“There could have been infinite other ways to deal with it. One of the most important things about being on a ship is to be aware of how your actions can affect everyone. Don't let your temper and sensibilities get the best of you!”

Another sailor near you cleared his throat. “Juza, weren't ya yellin’ at Cap’n Beidou ‘bout how she rejected you a few mont’s ago?

Juza’s face flamed and he turned in yours and the speaker's direction. “That — who told you about that?— but speaking of her, can someone wake her and let her know of the situation? I believe her word may have more impact than mine on you idiots”

But before anyone could turn to look for her, none other than Captain Beidou emerged from the lower decks. She was not donned in nightwear and a sleepy expression; in fact, from the way she was walking it seemed she'd been up for some time.

“About four kilometres north,” she said, “more or less. There's an island up there. It'll rain, and we can collect it in the empty barrels.” She eyed Juza. “I know how thirsty you’ve been.”

It was as if someone had covered your ears; each sailor stared at Beidou in utter silence before a blithe grin spread on her lips. A moment later, the Alcor was erupting with laughter while Juza’s face flamed once more.

“Alright, alright,” she chuckled, waving her arms at the crew. “Come on, let’s get this ship en route.”

You swept your eyes around the crowd; Kazuha’d been out of his hammock when you awoke earlier so you were surprised to be unable to spot him. So, having nothing else you were wanted to do nor that you wished to do, you returned to the world of sleep in the cabin.

You woke once again some time later to more shouting, but it seemed a different kind. You still did not see the ronin in his hammock and you wondered if he had slept at all. As you emerged to the deck you could already hear the tell-tale crashes of a storm and knew Kazuha’s prediction had been correct — though perhaps a little off time-wise. But thankfully, once on deck an island was on the horizon ahead of the Alcor and the harsher and harsher waves would not hinder you for too long.

This time, you saw Kazuha among the wet-faced sailors; you guessed from his dull expression and sopping clothes he’d been out here for hours, perhaps even since before the barrel incident. He appeared simultaneously fitful and apathetic, as if the storm was slowly shattering his ability to maintain composure. You were worried for him, but… after what he showed you the night before, you realised he must prefer to be left alone. And so you didn’t bother him, instead only making fleeting eye contact and focusing on the island in the distance.

—🍁

Despite only having had one full day at sea, the crew seemed to have lost that initial spring in their step. As each party rowed to land, the crew on the beach seemed to be simply trudging to the shelter of the forest. Even Beidou seemed to be a bit unhappy about already returning to land despite being the one who decided on it.

The island’s beaches were rough and messy, and you tried not to wonder whether those larger bits of driftwood were shipwrecks. White sand was littered with seaglass and scavenging sealife. It was nothing like the clean and well kept beaches back at your village. If, indeed, this island was at all inhabited, the habitants clearly had more things to worry about than making their beaches tourist friendly. Within the jungle-like forest, half the trees were just stumps and the other half had branches with bare spots.

The crew had hauled barrels onto the beach, with a few sailors on lightning watch. The rest of you took to the edge of the forest, where most trees were barely worthy of being called such. The whole time, you had not seen Kazuha and you began to feel worried. He could take care of himself and such, but you now knew he was going through a hard time and the idea of him being alone made your chest ache. You knew that people dealt with grief differently; you’d had enough conversations with guards back home to see the contrast in boundaries. Any one of your family members would have been seeking revenge immediately but you thought Kazuha would be more similar to those guards in that he expected his own retaliation to only make matters worse for him. Only, it appeared to be a little different for him. Because he blamed himself for what happened.

The rain did not let up for the two hours the crew spent on the island. The endless precipitation and wind was enough to make you long to be back home, where such storms could be comfortably waited out in your basement. You were, by the time the crew was regathering and placing the filled barrels back into the row boats. Juza tried to help you onto one but you blatantly refused. The waves were no less violent than before, and seeing those small boats struggle their way to head in the right direction was torture even to you.

You could not help but approach Beidou and ask why the hell she would allow her crew to go back into that torrent when it was so clearly unsafe. How could anyone in their right mind go into that without being prepared for death?

“It’s a necessary risk,” Beidou said confidently.

“But why? Don’t you have a reason? Surely the crew knows your reason, for why would they simply do as you say?”

She squinted at the beach, another bunch loading a row boat. “I’ve saved the lives of every member of my crew. They trust me and are still alive. Don’t you think that’s enough for them?”

This stumped you as you looked back to the shore. It didn’t make sense. “What about Kazuha?”

Right at that moment, a beam of lightning struck what must have been twenty or so feet in front of you and it felt like the entire world lit up and trembled. You recovered a second later and turned back to Beidou, who was frowning. She asked you to repeat what you’d said.

“Where’s Kazuha? And, have you saved his life?”

“Oh,” she laughed shortly. “He saved mine.” Beidou grinned at you and patted your wet head. “Look, the last boat is back. Don’t worry, you’ll find out everything sooner or later. It’s just, the less people know about some things the better.” She started towards the coast.

“I know about his friend. The one that died.” You spoke it loudly, only realising afterwards that perhaps it shouldn’t have been.

Beidou glanced at you for a second and acknowledged you briefly with a nod of understanding and a sorrowful glint in her purple eyes, before shouting instructions to the remaining crew. You took a deep breath as you embarked on the rowboat after her, the only assurance that you had was that the other people on the boat trusted Beidou and that it would be far worse to be left behind on this strange island than to die in this tiny boat during a storm.

You tried not to look back. One of the sailors encouraged you to focus on the Alcor, who currently looked pitiful enough to have been evacuated and on the verge of sinking. You were doing well, considering, with your eyes on the obscured sight of the Alcor’s bow. Neither you nor anyone else were prepared for the loud cracking sound at the stern of the rowboat, only looking back in time to see Captain Beidou disappear from the boat.

It was unclear whether she’d been dragged off or whether she jumped in, but now she was in the treacherous waves battling something big, dark, purple, and copious in teeth. You had no time to decipher whether it was a shark or a beast or a monster of a sea, because both it and the captain disappeared beneath the surface. Nearly everyone else on the rowboat shuffled over to search the water for her, the splashes of cold rain on your faces forgotten as brutal splashes of seawater overpowered the sensation. It had been nearly twenty seconds now, and people were calling the captain’s name.

“Ling!” A voice came from closer to the island — Beidou, and the beast, having somehow scaled the waves that far without being visible until now. “Keep rowing! I’ll be alright!”

The sailors at the paddles shouted “Aye!” and didn’t hesitate to follow her instructions. You watched with your heart racing. You weren’t an awful swimmer; had someone only fallen in, you would have had no trouble helping them back in. But something told you your skill level would only cause further trouble in this situation. There was nothing you could do.

The captainless rowboat was approaching the ship and ready to be reeled in. Beidou was nowhere to be seen. Your hands were cold, you thought distractedly. You wanted to be back in the Alcor. It was late, you wanted to sleep. You wanted to be warm. You wanted to be safe.

But Beidou was not, and you knew none of those things were possible until Beidou could be retrieved.

You saw a flash of purple, the beast, and red, Beidou’s attire. It was nearer to you than the island this time, but only for a brief moment. They were moving fast, like a horizontal bolt of lightning. And you could have sworn she was on its back.

This time when they resurfaced, you were sure you were right. Beidou had found her way onto its back, holding onto its webby ear-like fins. She was heading straight to your boat, shouting and swearing like a sailor. You could just make out what she was saying, although it was growing steadily louder as she approached.

“Anyone have a weapon on them!? I can’t kill this thing myself!”

You reached into your belt, finding the knife you always kept with you. You’d only had to use it once before, and had hoped to never again.

At the rate she was coming towards you, you weren’t sure if your aim would be precise enough.

“ENDO! INCOMING!”

She was perhaps five seconds away. It was now or never.

You lifted your arm with the knife in it, pushing it back. Ready to throw at any second.

Now. Now! But you couldn’t move your arm. What if you killed her? What if your aim was off—

You felt the spray of the wave. It slapped against the side of the Alcor next to you and hit you hard enough that you were thrown nearly off of the rowboat. It was freezing and shocking as if it was charged by the electricity of the Raiden Shogun herself. You thought you were about to get killed, and if you were being frank this was probably the worst feeling in the world.

“Nice!” Beidou’s exhilarated and victorious laughter sounded. That was a good sign — however, you hadn’t done a thing. The knife was still in your hand, clenched by your white fist.

Beidou slipped off of the back of the creature and you got a good look at it as she and a sailor heaved it into the floor of the rowboat. The most noticeable thing was, of course, the hilt of the blade sticking messily out of its face and poking out the other side of its lower half. It was roughly four feet in length, low, flat eyes and a wide mouth. It had electric purple, slimy skin, with mishaps of fins protruding in odd places. It wasn’t round, quite, but more of a tall, skinny, long fish.

Beidou hauled herself into the rowboat just as members on the boat began to lift it in. She was looking up to the railing of the Alcor with gratitude, and you followed her gaze to see the one and only Kazuha.

“You want your sword back, bud?”

He nodded simply, and she smiled, drawing it out of the fish’s face. “Boltshark,” she said. “Fast, deadly, but a little dumb. Just like my latest girlfriend.”

Sailors around you were sighing in relief at her proven well-being. As you unloaded onto the rowboat, Juza made a coarse comment meaning something about how it was good to have her safe, although it sounded a bit more like something else.

Beidou handed Kazuha his sword and he thanked her and headed straight towards the cabins without even looking at you. You started after him, but Beidou grabbed your shoulder.

“Just wait. That was his first time by Eien no Arashi Island. I think maybe he’s going to need a bit of time to recover.”

“Eien no Arashi?” Your eyes widened. “Everstorm Island?”

Beidou inhaled sharply, speaking a notch below her usual volume. “There’s a reason I didn’t tell you about that while we were on the beach. But my point is that that island is cursed and with Kazuha’s acute sense of changing winds it would have been pure torture to bring him along. Be patient with the guy, alright, Endo? The kid’s just lost his best friend.” With that, she patted your head, speaking louder again. “Right then. Want a taste of fried boltshark delight? Soon as we get out of this region the rain’ll let up and we can teach you how a real sailor’s meal’s made.”

—🍁

Beidou’s promise was fulfilled the next noon. That night the Alcor had made good time, although perhaps its crew members had not done the same in the realm of sleep. Everyone seemed an extra bit tired today, taking turns having skewers of shark meat atop luxurious bowls of rice. There was just enough meat so that everyone could have a share.

Kazuha was silent as he ate. You remembered him to be a quiet eater but you still recalled that he'd still share occasional reminiscence on the last time he had that meal or what the flavour reminded him of. But he didn't say a word, eyes on the horizon.

“Kazuha… are you okay after yesterday?” you asked him gently as you finished your own meal.

He nodded. “I appreciate your concern.”

“Kazu—”

“But whether I am okay or not is irrelevant. Y/N, are you enjoying the voyage?”

“I—I suppose, but—” you hesitated, and then placed a hand on his shoulder, “I care about you, Kazuha. It matters to me how you're doing.”

“I only meant that my ability to express my current feelings is impaired. I don't wish to trouble you with words that may mean nothing at all.”

It sounded genuine, but you still weren't sure. “If you ever do need to talk about what happened…”

He inhaled and smiled with unmistakable sorrow. “Only on the sunniest day, darling Y/N.” With that, he was leaving you to puzzle over his words again.

It seemed that he was telling you he wouldn't be able to talk about it until he'd dealt with it himself. You wished he didn't feel like he had to tough it out, even if it was part of his personality to be that way. You were not bothered by his poetic form of speaking, even now, because as long as he was expressing himself in a way that was comfortable for him. In any case you knew that whatever he was feeling right now was not the worst he'd ever been through and he could resurface eventually. It was the cost of which that worried you.

Your interpretation of his words seemed a little less on point as the skies darkened with thick clouds, bringing heavy rain. Perhaps he meant it literally in informed anticipation of the weather.

This time was somehow worse than before. Thunder boomed what seemed like every few seconds. Amidst all of this, Kazuha remained on deck, walking back and forth as if he felt like he had no choice. You, on the other hand, chose to confine yourself as best you could while still being able to watch the action. You felt a certain responsibility to keep an eye on Kazuha — or maybe, simply a personal survival instinct because he was the one who'd protected you in the past. Your mind ran back to what Captain Beidou’d said about the crew trusting her because their lives had all been saved by her at some point. You were believing it, now.

The lightning strikes were no longer as far in the distance. You could feel the vibrations in your chest and the rise and fall of the Alcor increase in intensity. The cursed feeling from Eien no Arashi was stronger and you half-wondered if you were there again. Dread, cold dread, and a foreboding excitement ran through the air and struck your cheeks. And as the lightning seemed to be hitting closer and closer to the ship, you swore you saw beams of purple and blue surrounding them as if powerful strikes from a vision-holder.

You gazed back at Kazuha. He was peering over the edge of the railing along with several other sailors whose eyes were growing large. It seemed that there must be something in the water that you could not see from where you were.

The young ronin’s head turned and he looked right at you for a moment as if to say… “don’t come near.”

You paused, considering. But then you saw the sailors running across the deck towards Beidou and shouting.

The freezing rain was a slap to your face as you stepped out from under the roof, running to where Kazuha stood. The sea was green and tempestuous, but you realised within a moment that this was not the focus of their attention.

It was the scaly, olive creature more than three-quarters the size of the ship approaching at a fast pace. It took you another moment to realise it had not one but two heads, and at the end of its webbed appendages were razor-edged claws.

This was not good.

Kazuha, beside you, was drawing his sword from his belt, face setting into a serious expression. He spoke quietly enough that only you could hear him over the storm. “Get behind me. Do you have a weapon?”

Thunder boomed again as you obeyed his calm instructions. “Yes,” you said. You’d started carrying your weapon with you since the island, and you drew it now. It was a long, gently curved blade, with a tied hilt. Closer to the guard of the sword on the surface of the blade, there was a small inscription indicative of the sword being an Endo heirloom.

You noticed Kazuha’s arm extended in front of you. His protectiveness might be a little comforting had it not been for the situation rendering it futile. The power of the sea creature rushing towards you, at a proximity supplying a wave of excess seawater drops mixed with rain splashing you. Its claws were extended right towards the two of you, and you felt just like you had when Beidou was on the Boltshark charging towards your tiny rowboat. Helpless. Incompetent.

Kazuha swung his sword in one quick, powerful motion the second you had expected to be slammed by the claw. You heard a clang as if his sword had hit another, and then you could see the green monster — catapulting backwards. It approached again, another claw swinging. Kazuha blocked this hit with another clash, and the next, and the next. His chest was heaving but his hand was steady as he prepared for the next. But now the creature was rising, water dripping from it in every angle as it rose higher and higher. Then you understood.

It had wings.

Of course it had wings.

It could not get close to you while flying thanks to the Alcor’s mast, but if nothing was done about it soon, that would no longer be a barrier.

“Open fire!”

Following Beidou’s voice, a stream of arrows flew several feet over your head towards the creature. They hit the bottom of its torso, a few sticking into its neck and face. It barely flinched, appearing to be more annoyed than anything. However, its hovering became more sloppy, and you weren’t sure whether that would be beneficial or not in the short term.

It flew higher, and then roared like a great big gurgling bear. Thunder struck again, and you fought the urge to cover your ears. It was rearing back — it was swooping towards you — suddenly, you felt a blow to your shoulders and realised that Kazuha had pushed you to the ground, facing the incoming dive alone. He held his sword tightly and flicked it out just as the monster was about to hit him.

Kazuha was thrown one way, hitting the deck with a subtle wack, and the flying creature screeched. There was nothing majestic nor even impressive about this monster save its size and its power; it was ugly, and having gotten a close look at it you thought that it must be very, very old.

Dark purple wine-like fluid was spilling out of the side of it where Kazuha’s sword had met it, and you realised it was blood. He’d gotten it right next to where one of its front appendages grew. It looked like one more slice of the same fashion would split the wing right off. The ronin was still face-up on the deck, trying to push himself into a sitting position.

You knew what you had to do.

“Kazuha!” you were shouting, despite him not being far. The storm was loud and the screeching creature was louder. “Tell me how to do it!”

“I’ve got this, stay down!”

“No, Kazuha. Tell me how!”

He looked at you, ruby eyes cloudy with desperation and guilt, and the creature stopped screeching. You both knew you had little time left.

“Plant both your feet, just like you do in sword fighting. Hold your sword in both hands. Stop looking at me, keep your eyes on it.” You followed his instructions as he continued. The creature was preparing for another strike. But so were you. “You’re going to trust your sword like it’s a part of your body. Aim, and—”

He didn’t have time to finish. Thankfully, he’d managed to remind you that your sword was truly an extension of you, of your blood, of your strength.

“Focus!”

You could have sworn you heard every single thunder strike from the whole storm echo in both ears as the creature came towards you. Your mind no longer registered the images your eyes were capturing. There were only waves, waves of electricity and claps of thunder throbbing in your mind.

You focused on what you knew. The dragon was coming at an angle from how you were standing so that you’d have little ability to reach its appendage. You’d have to move to your… right, to reach it, and — sword, now!

Your entire body felt like it was gone, and then it was all on fire as soon as you landed on the deck. You couldn’t open your eyes, it was too bright and red and purple.

“Y/N!”

“Endo!”

You heard what sounded like a rush of heavy hail and the sound cracked through your head. People were shouting.

“Hurrah!”

“The beast is slain!”

“Endo and the ronin saved us!”

Amidst all of this, for some unknown reason, you could hear Beidou say to Kazuha in a proud voice, “Thank you again, Kazuha.”

—🍁

You weren’t sure if you actually blacked out after that or were simply in a swimming state of conscious in which you couldn’t quite keep track of who was talking to you or what was happening but you were now in Beidou’s cabin, sitting at a table with a map spread on it, Kazuha sitting across for you with his head in his hands, and the voices of Beidou and Juza coming from somewhere else in the room.

“It was my fault,” Kazuha said. “I’m the reason it was here, don’t you understand?”

“Kazuha, don’t be silly! There’s no way the…” Beidou cut her voice down in volume as she continued. “There’s no way the Raiden Shogun wanted you dead so badly she’d send a Dragon of Kaminari. It was a coincidence.”

“You think it was a coincidence that your hundred-times-tried attack was in vain? The reign of the majesty of thunder’s knowledge spreads further than even my own senses. I’ve put you all in great danger. You’d be better off throwing me to my death. It would be better if I’d never come. Better if I’d been in his place.”

Juza spoke quietly. “That attack has never failed…”

You licked your lips, trying to understand. “Kazuha…”

“Y/N. Are you okay? You haven’t been able to talk since the Kaminari.”

Since the storm? Or since the creature?

“I’m fine,” you said. “Your voices seem very loud in my head, but I think it’ll go away.”

Kazuha didn’t speak, but he gave you a very significant look as if to apologise.

“You saved the day,” said Beidou, walking over into your view and flashing you two encouraging palms. “You were very brave, champ. We owe you our lives.”

“What happened to it?”

“Dead!”

“Dead as dead, when we got over,” Juza confirmed, striding to his captain’s side. “We’ve got to clean up the poisonous dragon blood all over our deck, but a little risk never hurt anyone.”

“Do we have anyone cleaning that up right now?” Beidou asked him, raising an eyebrow.

He hesitated, glanced towards the door, and then licked his lips. “I told them it had to be done.”

She raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. “Is anyone doing it?”

“On it, Cap’n.”

He left the room quickly, and Beidou sucked air in through her teeth, looking at the two of you. “We’re coming into port of Liyue not too long from now, since we’re past the Raiden Shogun’s storm barrier. Things should be smoother.”

You nodded, resting your forehead against your hand. “It’s been quite a voyage,” you observed, looking at Kazuha. He still looked guilty, and you frowned, realising something.

“Kazuha… why would the Raiden Shogun want you dead? Does it have to do with your friend?”

He appeared hesitant to answer. Beidou stared at him. “You didn’t tell them you’re…”

“The sky is clear,” said Kazuha, and he paused, taking a deep breath. “I’m a fugitive, Y/N.”

“You’re wanted?” You considered what he’d said. Clear skies. As opposed to the thunder before? Or his own state?

“I displeased her through opposition. I do not benefit eternity, so she says.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped! My family has power, they could have—”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, dear Y/N. You’d try to help, but you’d have put your family in danger. I was hoping you’d forget about me after I left, but I quickly realised you wouldn’t stop searching for me. You truly put your heart into things; such a shame it had to be me. So…”

“That’s why you invited me along. To protect me.”

“And your family. And anyone else you might ask about me. The only way to ensure my complete disappearance would have to include intercepting your well-meant actions.”

“Kazuha… there isn’t a single other person who would look for you? Not one?”

“Not anymore,” he said, and your chest panged.

He really had nothing left. It made sense that he would run. He had nothing to fight for.

“But I put the crew of the Alcor in danger by accepting Captain Beidou's generous invitation. Even after isolating myself to protect the crew on Eien no Arashi, she sought me out when it put all in danger. The Raiden Shogun is in the thunder, her reign is inescapable.”

Was that what he’d meant?

“Really, Kazuha, this isn’t your fault in any way,” Beidou repeated. “There’s nothing our crew can’t face. And we’ve got you to help out, anyways. I’ve lasted the vision hunt this long, I see no risk of having just one more bearer aboard.”

It was heartwarming to see someone else care for Kazuha in this way. Here you were, in a room with two people who’d been complete strangers to you weeks ago. You’d met Kazuha, been enchanted by his eccentricity, and followed him onto a boat full of courageous sailors — warriors, really, perhaps stronger than the ones in Inazuma.

And you’d changed, too. You knew you had, because a week ago what would the Endo heir be doing driving their sword into the joint of a thunder dragon? Or facing a cursed island? Or joining in song with sailors while sharing fresh boltshark meat?

Who would you be when you returned?

Kazuha and Captain Beidou were still debating inconclusively what should take place when they got to Liyue Harbour. Kazuha thought he should disembark and stay away from the crew in order to decrease risk, Beidou insisted that he should do what he wanted.

“If Kazuha stays,” you interjected, suddenly, “then I will too.”

Both of them stared at you. “You mean—” Beidou said, lifting her eyebrows.

“I don’t want to go back to Inazuma. Not yet, anyways. I’ve spent long enough in one place, as someone I hold dearly would say.”

Kazuha reached across the table to take your hand in his. He had the softest, sturdiest hands, even if they’d been shaking, wrapped around a sword, only a few hours before. With a gaze he returned clearly for the first time in a few days, you realised that maybe you were a little important to him. Maybe he was really, truly grateful to have you around.

“I’ll explore Liyue. I’ve always wanted to try the Zhongyuan Chop Suey.”

Beidou chuckled. “Yes, that’s always a delight. Cheap and tasty, the best kind.”

Words from Kazuha a few days ago resurfaced in your mind, from when you’d ask him if he’d ever tell you what was going on. “Is today the sunniest day, Kazuha?”

He looked towards the window of the cabin, from which straight sunlight shone. “I believe so, Y/N.”

—🍁

The sun was reaching its nest in the horizon — which now had vast, towering mountains in its reaches — as the Alcor came into Liyue Harbour. You’d never seen a sky so yellow and orange, nor a shore so heavily industrialised. You’d heard tales of the Geo Archon building beautiful cities for his people but had never imagined this. Atop tall, brick walls were red pagoda-style constructs with angular green roofs. The elegant design, contrary to that of the quaint villages and small-scale towns you were used to, was enough to confirm the legend that it had been built by a god. No hand of man could carve such a beautiful harbour into this.

Beidou suggested that she take you and Kazuha on a tour of Liyue Harbour, take you to all her favourite food vendors and show you the best of the views. You were both up for it, and you really meant to pay attention and stay in the moment, but you found yourself distracted.

You were distracted by Kazuha. There was that look in his eyes again; not the anxiety and worry he’d had for the last few days on the ship, but the first thing you’d noticed about him all those weeks ago when you’d met him. He had a certain curiosity that was more captivating in itself than anything he was curious about. He had a wonder with the world, a joy in discovering the tiniest of new things, and above all, such a sensitivity to the meaning of things. For someone so unwilling to talk about his own emotions, he was very intuitive to the self of everyone around him.

It was as you first entered the city at his side, admiring the design of the arches overhead, that you could hear something you had not heard from him for some time. At almost a whisper, only loud enough that you could just make out what he was saying but quiet enough that you wondered whether you ought to listen, he intoned a haiku.

-

“A glowing city

a soul sees two suns set in,

life’s chapters take shift”

-

Kazuha’s gaze was on the guard at the archway’s southernmost post. The young man’s eyes were towards the darker eastern sky, staring with such marvel that you were sure he had seen something there. After hearing Kazuha’s spell of a poem, you felt worried for the guard.

But you moved on, and you would soon forget the guard. Kazuha continued to whisper poems. You came to understand that he was making observations.

He seemed so quiet, distant, but absorbed in the new world you’d come to. It made you want to smile, feeling the flow of Kazuha Kaedehara return to his mind, but it made your heart ache. Because somewhere within, thanks to the greeting of a thousand new faces with stories, it seemed as if he was finally allowing introspection to his own guilt, his own pain, his own story he’d violently put a pause on in order to preserve what he thought he should be.

This was your own observation. You hadn’t been in touch enough to make the connections and guesses about any single person in the city of Liyue, but looking at Kazuha, you couldn’t help but care enough to wonder.

Was this what he did? Was this what he loved?

Caring for strangers?

After an evening to night filled with life, which reminded you of the gathering before you left in spirit but the way you received the spiritedness being far different, it was time for a rest. You expected a long one. Beidou assured you that you could sleep as long as you wanted here at the home of her friend, because the Alcor would not be returning to the seas for a few days. She told you that you could change your mind about staying in the morning if you liked, but you assured her that you were certain.

You didn’t know Liyue. You didn’t know its people, its food, its charm. But you wanted to. You wanted to get to know this land. You’d been in one village, in one house on an island for long enough.

It was time to start asking questions.

Kazuha came to wish you a good sleep. He seemed tired; he’d seemed that way for days, but this time… this time it was the satisfied sort of tired. You were so glad he was happy here. Everything was okay, finally.

“I’ll be sleeping in the room next door,” he told you, “if you need anything.”

“Sure,” you said. “Thank you. Thank you for everything, Kazuha.”

He smiled at you, like a sigh of relief. His ruby gaze drifted to the paper in your lap.

“I’m just finishing up a letter home. I’ll give it to Beidou in the morning. Do you… want to read it?”

He nodded, sitting on the side of your bed. You handed him the parchment and he took his time reading through it. When he finished, he said the last line out loud in a gentle voice. “‘Till we meet again, Endo Y/N.” He peered at you for a moment without saying anything. “I’m happy for you,” he said. “I’m really happy for you.”

You sat up further, taking the letter and then taking his hand. “I guess I just needed a funny old voyage with Kazuha.”

“As does everyone,” he agreed with a small grin.

“Kazuha,” you said.

“Yes?”

“Will you and I be together forever?”

He smiled. “If we think about each other always, we shall.”

“So that’s a no?”

He lifted his eyes. He always seemed to know exactly where the windows were in a room. It was something that made you love him more. “The wind will continue to change in ways I cannot predict.”

There was that wistful look again. You had an intention of saying something now, but you were fully aware that it would have no effect. In the ways of the wind, it had no power. Still, you had to say it.

“What if I love you?”

Kazuha’s eyebrows furrowed. “Then perhaps one can hope the wind will be in your favour.”

You felt your heart drop. It was the rejection he wouldn’t give you before.

You tried to remind yourself that he wasn’t the only reason you’d come along, but it still hurt.

However, just as you had convinced yourself of this, you felt his hand on your cheek. Your eyes met, pausing. A sparkle lay behind his, and past that — you could not tell. You could never tell.

Kazuha’s eyes shut, and he met your lips with his. You allowed it, one of your own hands grasping weakly at the fabric of his shirt’s chest. He pressed his forehead against yours, inhaling deeply.

“It’s good that you’re happy,” said Kazuha, pulling away.

You longed for the moment to return already.

“Good night, dear Y/N,” he spoke as he left you and the room.

“See you in the morning,” you said after him.

You were confused — exhilarated — curious. You hoped that tomorrow morning would come quickly, setting aside your completed letter and falling back into the pillow.

—🍁

You slept long. It might have been because of the comfortable bed, or the loss of the rise and fall of ocean waves, or perhaps even the calming sensation you received after last night. But you woke up feeling a bit drowsy and very excited for the days to come.

The first thing you would do today was give Beidou the letter to your parents. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and reached to your bedside to pick it up.

It took you a moment to realise the envelope in your hand was not the one you’d addressed to your parents. No, this one had your name on it in a thin cursive, and it was sealed with a wax maple leaf stamp.

You glanced towards your doorway, wondering how recently this had been put here. Then, you slid your fingers into the flap and snapped the envelope open. You could feel a slight panic in your chest, knowing that there were only a select few people in Liyue who would ever give you a letter. There were two pieces of parchment folded three times, and you saw your name at the top of the first, and the date, which was last night.

-

Dearest, bravest Y/N of the Endo clan,

-

How did you sleep, my friend? I hope this letter finds you well-rested and in bright, glorious morning daylight. I suppose I should begin by mentioning that The Alcor’s visit to Liyue was shortened and Captain Beidou will have the ship part from docks shortly after dawn — it’s likely that by the time you’re reading this, it’s far beyond the Sea of Clouds. The ship must join the rest of the Crux’s fleet, and they have no time to spare after tonight. All is well, no need to worry. This is simply what the lives of sailors look like. They shan’t spend long in one place.

I’m going along. I’d planned to, but I had expected to have a few more days in the land of Rex Lapis. But I need time, I think. I need time before I start again.

You lovely soul. I’m grateful for the time you spent with me, the hours you worried for me, the swords you clutched for me. I’ve watched from afar for both of our sakes. For me, because I’m in a vulnerable state of mind right now and must protect myself from rash decisions. And for you, to protect you from those rash decisions and because I care for you, I wanted to protect you from my burdens..

I showed you the loss of my companion, but I never did explain how it happened. I could not speak of it. But my friend lost a duel with the Raiden Shogun. He fought for the people of Inazuma.

His motive was good, but I still wonder whether it was worth the loss of his life. Now, all that we have left of him is the memory of what he stood for. And I, the treasured memories of his companionship.

Dear friend, do not do the same unless you truly believe it is a worthy cause. Treasure your life. Treasure the gift that nature has given you. To feel the breeze, to perceive the colours of the world. I pray that, when you exit the house in which you’re staying, you’ll not feel sad without me. Look at the trees. Do you see the red leaves?

The wind changes.

I bought a satchel for you at the souvenir shop. For myself, I find all I need in the taste of wine, the songs in the trees, and the blade I carry from my homeland. Keep your own blade close, dear friend. But do not use it unnecessarily. Fill your bag with things that you hold dearly. The land of Liyue can provide if you search. I encourage you to search.

-

Blooming traveller,

Your journey begins anew,

with a heart of faith.

-

Wander, my friend. From this day forth, learn the beauty of the unknown.

I shall return. I shall return following the day I face what I ran from. I cannot imagine it now. But it will come, and if I do return and you are nowhere to be found, I shall be glad for you.

Thank you for being an honest friend. Thank you for being transparent about how much you care for me. You gave me strength during my hardest moments, and you saved my life in the face of a beast. You have more courage than I, and I know you will face more beasts with more courage.

I have many more things I would like to say. But it is not the time.

-

Farewell, and may only good come to pass on the road ahead.

Your friend,

Kazuha Kaederhara

-

You lifted your thumb to your eye, wiping a single tear that had escaped. You now noticed the red, sturdy-looking bag on the floor next to your bed.

“Fill your bag with things that you hold dearly,” the letter had said.

You folded the parchment up again, slid it back into the envelope, and neatly packed it into the middle pocket. Then, you noticed something at the bottom of the bag, and you reached in for it.

Between your fingers you held a thin, dewy maple leaf. It was identical in stature to the ones growing outside the window.

It was the colour of his eyes.

His eyes that had seen change and death and pain and all the beauty in the world, but still craved more. His eyes were afraid, anxious, and tired, but the only thing they would remain forever was crimson red. Even if all else faded.

You put it back in the bag, and stood from your bed.

You faced the window. Sunlight did not shine through, but it was there, bright as ever, outside this house.

On the sunniest day.

But the sun would always be shining behind the clouds.

—🍁

note. there it is. at last, finished. why did this take me 6 months to write? i'm not really sure. but i worked very hard to make sure it did get written because i thought kazuha deserved at least that much. i always go way too heavy on the symbolism but oh man i was having a good time with it. and, come on, it's kazuha, i have to get a little poetic now and then.

reblogs are very, very appreciated, if you did enjoy it.

|Feels Like Home|

Albedo x GN!Reader

[Genshin Masterlist]

word count: 2.1k

summary: Over the course of a seemingly menial day, Albedo finally realises that he's in love with you.

warnings: none! just sheer, tooth-rotting fluff. this has however just been word vomited with no beta so <33

this fic absolutely ran away with me, it was only meant to be the rain scene and then whoops i had 2k words written 😭😭 i just get,,,, very soft for Albedo, apparently. also sof if u see this i pushed to get this finished quicker for u so u could read it ❤

"We're going to get soaked," Albedo complained as you tugged on his hand, pulling him out of his office. He didn't try to let go, though, willingly following you regardless. He would have followed even if you were leading him straight into hellfire. 

"It'll be fun, I promise!" You beamed, a bounce in your step as you guided your partner outside.

The rain was pouring down heavily and Albedo sighed as the front of his hair was almost immediately flattened into his eyes, obscuring his sight. You hadn't fared as well either, but you were already mostly waterlogged from travelling to see him in the first place so it hadn't been as extreme of a difference. 

With heavy hands, he pushed his hair out of his face, letting it slick back against the sides rather than remaining plastered across his forehead. You were already lost in yourself a little further ahead of him, the enthusiasm never once leaving your steps as you bounded through the soaking streets of Mondstat with a gentle laugh. 

Albedo's feet sank against the drenched stone paving, little splashes of water flicking out under the soles of his boots. He spent a moment observing the way that the droplets rippled out from one another, some constructively interfering and causing larger splashes, some pattering out quickly into nothingness. For a while, he was lost in thought as he followed after you, until you finally snapped him back to reality with a little wave of your hand in front of his face.

"We're here," you declared triumphantly, gesturing out into the open space around you. 

You'd taken him all the way towards the cathedral, to the wide open square that housed the towering statue of Barbatos. He noted that the rainwater was cascading heavier from between the open palms of the statue, causing louder and larger splashes on the ground below. You didn't seem to care, eagerly running around in the space with a gleeful whoop as you splayed your arms out in the air and simply just enjoyed the time you were having. 

The downpour hadn't once cleared up and Albedo was certain that you'd have some serious drying off to do in front of a warm fire later to avoid catching a cold. Not that he couldn't just make up a few concoctions to make you feel better if you did get sick, but he decided he'd rather avoid the probability entirely. 

Almost as if to prove his point, a significantly large gathering of water sloshed unceremoniously down from the top of the statue and plopped tremendously atop your unsuspecting head. You let out a yelp of surprise, somehow now even more impossibly soaked through than you already were.

It surprisingly didn't change just how stunning you looked in the moment, though. If anything, the glistening droplets of rain reflecting in the fragments of light peeking through the grey clouds overhead gave you an extra layer of etheralism that had him close to blushing. 

"You're beautiful." He couldn't help himself from making the comment. It was an astute observation, like everything else he had noticed on the walk there. You really were the most breathtaking person he knew, so why wouldn't he let you know?

"Flatterer," you laughed, moving back over to him only to scoop his hands into yours. "Dance with me?" 

"Of course," he obliged. 

Sure, there was no music. That hadn't stopped you before so it certainly wouldn't stop him now.

Albedo wasn't necessarily adept with the concept of dancing, at least not in the traditional sense. His years of training as a swordsman had helped his footwork, naturally, so it wasn't possible for him to falter too badly. It had been a while since he had had a partner as proficient as you, though. Klee managed to keep him on his toes- literally sometimes- by insisting he teach her how to dance and then proceeding to simply drag him around the room a few times, but it was nothing compared to genuinely trying to dance with another person. 

"You don't need to be perfect at this, you know," you let out a laugh as he tried to lead you in a slow waltz. 

"I am aware," he admitted. "But you deserve nothing less."

"Just let yourself have fun, Mr. Perfectionist," you grinned, switching up your movement to pull him into a twirl. 

You were leading him now, dancing him around in a circle past all the bright cecelias that were planted around the foot of the statue. They were almost as pretty to look at as you, but Albedo knew they'd never quite match your elegance and charm. Your hands placed gently on his body, one on his shoulder and the other just over his hip, felt so warm against him. It was a shocking change to the bone-chill he could sense from the damp soaking deep into every single fiber of his being. It was welcome, though, and your touch felt like home to him. 

Home.

He considered "home" to be the land he was created in, the land he no longer got to see. Home was meant to be where you were from, right? So why did you, a person who had let themselves into his life like an absolute whirlwind and consumed his entire being until you were all that was left, feel the exact same way? 

You had become a comfort, not unlike the blissful warmth of settling down before a fire deep in the harshest snowstorms that wracked through Dragonspine. Like the early dew in the morning gracing the blades of grass that Albedo did so like to sit out and sketch when the sun was just rising. You were ephemeral, fleeting, but at the same time you were strong and grounding, like an anchor keeping him steady. He never quite realised how much he liked feeling stable. 

Yet here, now, with you, he let himself enjoy it all at once. The feeling that he always felt when he was with you, that glorious encompassing feeling of home. It threatened to swallow him whole and never let him go. And he would gladly let it, without hesitation. 

He laughed. For maybe the first time that you had ever heard him do so, he let out the most genuine laugh that he ever had. The rain was still cascading down in rivers across him, forcing him to blink hard to get the water away as he threw his head back towards the sky. You watched him with keen interest for a moment, bewildered by the sudden display of emotion, but once you had settled you laughed along with him. 

Never once did you stop dancing, out in the rain like that together. You both kept going until you were too tired to move any more, until you were practically dragging yourselves back through the wet streets home. 

Home. That elusive word yet again. 

This was your house that Albedo was currently crossing through the threshold of, closing the door carefully behind him as you went ahead to start up the fireplace. It was your sofa that you piled some blankets onto, your dining chair that you slowly and cautiously spread out your soaking wet outer clothes to dry upon. 

Everything was familiar to him of course, he had been invited into your house many times even before you were courting, but it all belonged to you. It wasn't for the both of you. 

It could be, though, he let himself think. Perhaps one day, some of his paperwork could be laid upon that dining room table. The cup he usually used half to death for coffee before finally washing it out every time could be sat neatly on the countertop, perhaps next to your own. His coat could be hung up on the hook beside your front door, next to where your own currently rested. 

"-e that," you said, but he didn't quite catch it. 

When had he let himself get so lost in his own imagination around you? You really must have had such a strong effect on him, for him to even be thinking about sharing his life with you in such a way. 

"Hey, Albedo," you called out to him again. This time, he actually turned to you. 

"I'm sorry, what did you want?" 

"Give me that," you held out your hand, gesturing towards his coat. "You're still drenched, I'm not letting you stay here if you're going to drip all over my carpets."

He passed it over wordlessly, peeling the fabric back off of his arms and handing it to you. You gave him a warm smile, such a beautiful smile, one that never failed to elicit a similar one from him in response, as you moved off to hang his coat up to dry. 

It was next to yours, just as he had been imagining only seconds prior. He had to admit, they looked good together. Like they were meant to be there. 

"C'mon," you urged as you returned, ushering him back towards the sofa. 

He sat first, at your behest, and let you plonk yourself down by his side. You stayed where you were for a moment, before fidgeting and eventually shifting all the way until you had your head resting on his shoulder. 

"Your hair is still wet," he noted, which made you giggle. 

"Yeah of course it is, we were out there for like an hour." You wrapped your arms around his middle, settling down as comfortably as you could manage. 

It wasn't the first time the two of you had cuddled in such a way on your sofa (yours, not a shared entity), but this time Albedo just couldn't seem to find the right way to place his own hands. He settled, eventually, for draping one arm gently across you and using the other to hold onto the hand of yours that had come to a rest across his stomach. 

"You seem really off today Bedo," you hummed, tilting your head up to glance at him.

He met your eyes with a smile. "I'm fine, love, don't you worry."

Love. 

He hadn't ever called you that before. Why did it feel so right, now?

"Love?" You repeated, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. 

"Do you not like it?" He asked, suddenly wondering if he had said something wrong. Before you, he never would have been so worried about something so small.

"No, I," you hesitated. "I love it."

"Was that meant to be a joke?" Albedo mused, moving to press a kiss to your forehead. He wasn't sure what had compelled him to do that right then and there but it just felt right.

Felt. Feelings were difficult, a concept that Albedo knew about in abundance- but still could never quite grasp. Even though he knew he was happy with you, happy interacting with you in a more-than-platonic manner, he never seemed to get a decent understanding of how he felt about you. You had told him several times how he made you feel, not to the point of saying those specific little three words, but it was close enough. He knew you cared for him, deeply at that. Why else would you have been so patient with him all this time?

"I love you," he uttered out at last, after what felt like he was thinking for hours. Really, it had likely not been much longer than a few seconds.

You stopped what you were doing, mindlessly twining and unlocking your fingers with his, to gaze up into his eyes. The slight part of your lips expressed your shock brilliantly as you stuttered to try and get a response out. 

"I love you too," you replied at last, after fumbling around the words for a while. "I love you so much, you don't even know."

"I think I can imagine," Albedo smiled, leaning down to pull you into a searing kiss.

Yes. Love was definitely what he felt. There was no other way to describe it, the overwhelming feeling he got whenever he looked at you. The feeling that desperately ached in his chest whenever you weren't around him. It was the feeling that made him want to stay there like that with you for an eternity, even despite the inclination to keep working on his research. It was the feeling of the first day of spring after a perilous winter, of the very first leaves tumbling off of their trees in autumn. 

The feeling of home. 

And he wanted to make a home with you, no matter what.

sincerely,

yours truly (part one). / sincerely (part two).

premise: your diligent efforts to uncover the identity of your secret admirer had ultimately amounted to nothing. in fact, your investigations only raised more questions — your companions' strange behaviors and shifty-eyed gazes hadn't completely escaped from your awareness, not to mention you've become... privy to some of their affections...

and what is the last thing you need while trying to search for one person who liked you? more people to like you, of course!

but that is exactly what you receive. (goddamn it all.)

includes: zhongli, kaeya, scaramouche, itto & the real secret admirer !

note: oh god i have done it. it's even longer than the other one but since this is the 10k celebration fic, it's only rightfully so! i hope you enjoy this... likes and reblogs are appreciated <33 please read the first part if you haven't already!

zhongli:

all things considered, zhongli is an unrelated figure to your personal issues, not particularly concerned with such trifling matters. you lived worlds apart, and he's generally preoccupied by his own studies anyway, too absorbed in his thesis to mind who has a crush on who and whatnot.

yet it seems as if fate is intent on pulling you two together whether you like it or not.

you belong in different majors, your lecture halls on opposite sides of campus, and he's an upperclassman. not to mention the upperclassman everyone looks up to, the senior equivalent of albedo. though he holds an air of benevolence and warmth, he's unapproachable in the way nobody would dare impose themselves in fear of bothering him with their presence.

professors only speak of his name in accordance with endless words of praise, and legend has it that any paper he proofreads is guaranteed to receive a high grade... not that anyone could confirm it, since nobody has been gifted that luxury.

except for you, of course, living the y/n life — you'd been slaving away on your assignments per usual at diluc's cafe when, in a moment of misfortune, zhongli had crashed into a waiter and spilled his coffee on your papers, soaking pale sheets in brown splatters and smudging the inked sentences you'd painstakingly written for the past hour.

if only your laptop hadn't run out of battery, you wouldn't have resorted to drafting with pen and paper. or you could have done your work in a later date instead of being productive for nothing. fuck.

witnessing your expression crumpled to disbelief and misery, zhongli apologized through offering his assistance in doing your assignment with you. and oh boy, he did it well. it was better than what you could've ever done, the insight he provided beyond profound. he was humble even as you showered him with compliments, still looking quite apologetic for the fiasco he caused.

and. right. it could've ended there. after that occasion, you would wave at him if you passed by each other at the hallways, but that's where the extent of your relationship ended, a pair of underclassman and upperclassman who'd known each other once.

but of course it's never that easy.

he pops up when you least expect it, running into you frequently even though the rumors articulated “you'd hardly get a glimpse of him since he's busy all the time” clearly. and he's acquainted with people you know well, just that you never paid attention to it; keqing seems to respect him a lot, so does xiao, ganyu perks up whenever he's brought up in conversations, and childe sticks to him when given the opportunity. perhaps it was only a matter of time that you begin a friendship with him as well...

but what's up with these horribly timed drama tropes you keep experiencing with him?!

bumping into him and dropping your books to the floor so he offers to walk you to the library, locked into a room when a professor asks you to collect materials for class with him and the door has a faulty knob, getting photographed by a student while you study in the same table and everyone assumes you're dating,,

you've been seeing far too much of him.

everyone's patience has been wearing thin. xiao tries his best to keep his annoyance at bay but fails. childe has resorted to bribing zhongli for free lunch to lead him away from you. albedo straight up drags you to the opposite direction whenever he spots zhongli within vicinity.

but it's like there's a force of nature compelling you to stick right back to him.

hosting events for college fests had never been your kind of thing, but attention follows you if you're acquainted with famous people, and keqing was unwilling to be an emcee if she didn't have a friend alongside her to act as a second host. of course, that meant everyone was deadset on dragging you with her.

you're not very keen on standing on a stage to face the whole school like a kid participating in a talent show, but you've never been good at saying “no” to your friends.

hence why you find yourself clutching on a microphone now, blinded by bright stage lights. you would much prefer if you were part of the audience. or if you were in ayaka's place instead, holding up cue cards behind the curtains.

there's some kind of beauty pageant going on, a popularity contest for the prettiest people in uni. votes are collected via online polls, and you're tasked to reveal the top 10. you don't doubt for a second your friends will all join you on stage eventually, and you've already asked ganyu to drag xiao up the platform if he tries to escape. sweeping off a piece of confetti by your shoulder, you flip open the folden paper in your hand and announce the winning names.

zhongli steps up as one of the candidates for first place and you faintly hear gasps of awe and high pitched squeals.

you nod at him in acknowledgement, and he returns the gesture in kind. you head on over to hand him a mic of his own, keqing busying herself by doing the same job for other contestants, and...

in your carelessness, distracted by fumbling with the paper in your hand to hide it back inside your pocket, you trip over an electrical cord.

you've been waiting the entire night for the time where you'll eventually embarrass yourself in front of a crowd. perhaps a voice crack in what's supposed to be a tense situation, a stutter in your words, falling off a stage even, but here it is, even more horrifying than what you could've imagined.

squeezing your eyes shut instinctively, you brace yourself for the hard surface to tumble onto. instead, what meets you is something squishy, someone's hands gripping around your shoulders, and-

FUCK. you banged your knees on the ground.

the first thing to pop in your mind is a myriad of swears that could stun a sailor.

the second is the oddly plush surface your lips had landed on.

the third is the sight of widened golden eyes. they look very familiar. but you'd rather not think about who they belong to.

the ugly screech of the microphone dropping to the floor is drowned out by gasps, yelling, and the scandalized choke of keqing behind you. xiao — who did end up being a contender for the stupid popularity contest and is standing only a few meters away, makes an alarming noise that could trigger a person's fight or flight reaction.

you hastily attempt to rise to your feet, but the floor is slippery what the actual fuck, and zhongli, oh for fuck's sake, innocent and oblivious zhongli grabs your hips to keep you steady.

.....of course the accidental kiss and caught in a compromising position tropes were going to happen eventually.

kaeya:

“it's from me.”

your gaze travels from the fresh, new bouquet of flowers emitting a sweet fragrance lying in your arms, and the face of the man currently standing before you, lips curled in what seems to be a supposedly reassuring smile.

“you mean... this and the carnations last time?”

his lips are still firmly quirking upwards, admirably patient in spite of reiterating the same phrase over and over again whenever probed with your repetitive questions.

still, he doesn't quite give off the impression of someone deeply infatuated.

and okay, not to be narcissistic, but you expected a secret admirer to... well, admire you more, yet this person looks as nonchalant as ever.

and he doesn't look like the type to profess love through subtle means. at all.

you'll be blunt. you've heard of kaeya. who hasn't? whether it be of mischief, or something more scandalous in nature, he's more or less always involved with trouble, gossip about him traveling fast. it may be an insane prank in the boys' dormitory or someone he bedded (who's supposedly out of everyone's league, yet fell for his charms so easily), you hear of his name quite often.

it's just that you didn't expect you'd associate yourself with him...

and if you have at least two brain cells to rub together, you can easily piece together the conclusion: this guy is definitely talking out of his ass.

nobody has ever heard of kaeya pining over someone so badly that he personally sent bouquets and other small gifts to appease them, admiring them from the shadows. it's so clearly not his style. if he likes someone, he'd flirt with them a bit and cleverly worm his way into their heart, and absolutely not give away presents expecting nothing in return.

but if he's not your secret admirer, then for what reason is he pretending like he is?

you want to seek the truth, and playing along for the meantime sounds like the best option. and this may draw out the real secret admirer, the sly part of you voices internally.

thinking it'll be rude to turn him down publicly (since of course he initiated this exchange in the middle of a crowd, and that only gives you more reason to doubt him), you decide to see how things go first.

if anything, this whole “wooing” business with kaeya seems like it's done out of spite. does he have a bone to pick with you? or he made one of those stupid “it'll only take a week for you to fall for me” bets with his friends? hopefully not, because that's terribly out of trend.

your indifferent responses do nothing to deter him from sticking to you like glue though, doing this and that to earn your favor. he's... not doing anything wrong, actually. if you didn't know any better, you'd think he's like any other eager guy who wants to receive your love.

he does a great job of remembering what things you like and dislike, making a habit of inviting you out for a meal in your favorite restaurants every now and then or taking note of what movies you're looking forward to so you could watch it in the cinema together.

... it feels more like hanging out with normal friends now.

kaeya eases into the idea of that notion, too, insisting on meeting you outside of his shady “i'm your secret admirer” business. it doesn't take too long until you begin to reach out to him as well, inviting him to go shopping with you to look at jewelry together (and dear lord, does kaeya know how to accessorize) or giving him a ticket to the amusement park when kokomi bails on you. (“so i' m just a rebound? a back-up plan?” kaeya arches a questioning brow, acting deeply hurt to provoke a reaction. you smack his shoulder and he laughs in mirth.)

(he definitely tries for the “let's go to the haunted house so you can cling to me when you're scared” cliche but fails. why does he feel disappointed though...)

if given more time, maybe the time would come where you'll both just shrug off the secret admirer thing and continue on normally as friends. it'll be the last thing on your minds, a joke that never had a punchline. just some prank kaeya didn't see through the end.

but then it resurfaces when kaeya had already given you your daily dose of coffee — yes, he somehow knows the secret recipe you like, something you plan to ask him about later — but another cup is waiting at your desk, its once warm temperature turning lukewarm.

you inspect it, judging for yourself, and you confirm it's the same recipe you like.

so this one is from the real secret admirer then, the one who's still hiding in the shadows. that, or this recipe is just popular.

the people residing in the same room as you observe the scene with interest, because apparently your romance drama became a spectator sport, stares pinned in kaeya's direction.

you knew he was a fraud from the very start, but others do not, and he's not sure what to say.

someone else makes the excuse for him. “do you have another person who likes you, [name]?” amber asks innocently, essentially saving kaeya's ass without her realizing it. you let your gaze shift from her to kaeya.

“...maybe.” you place the two cups of coffee side-by-side, feigning nonchalance.

if the real secret admirer found out that someone's pretending to be him, this must be his way of saying kaeya's a fraud in front of everyone. after all, if he was actually the secret admirer, there'd be no need for kaeya to give you another cup when he'd already placed one on top of your desk.

and a couple of people already know who the real one is, anyway. xiao just doesn't want to tell you.

kaeya sends what seems to be a longing gaze your way but ends up turning away to head to his own classroom. he'd only offered to walk you towards yours, and you didn't share classes. it gives you more time to ponder how to confront him.

you didn't have to. he explained things himself.

it comes in the time you least expect, a peaceful lunch like any other. he suddenly arrived at your table, tray in hand, and sat opposite of you. “it's not me,” is the first thing he says, no context at all. he admits the obvious truth and you shovel more food in your mouth in your hopes of hiding how curious you are for what else he has to say.

“but i know who's been giving you flowers... and the coffee. also the chocolate the other day. i helped him pick out the presents, actually.” and that's where you choke because that's not what you were expecting at all.

“he was considering sending a love letter, but i told him you'd recognize his handwriting because you know him very well. and he refused to give a printed letter because he thought it was 'lacking' and you deserved better than that.” he scoffed at the thought. “and that's cute of him. endearing, if you will. but he seriously pissed me off last month and i wanted to mess with him a bit.”

“so you... tried to date the person he likes?” your expression sours. that's a dick move. he immediately shakes his head, as if to say perish the thought.

“not that. i knew for a fact you wouldn't like me anyway. i was just teasing him,” kaeya huffs. “and he got angry at me. well, it's a justified reaction. but i didn't plan on keeping up the charade for long. i only wanted to fool around for a few days.”

“and then?”

“...i missed the timing to pass it off as a joke. then we started to hang out like friends. but i assured him that you didn't actually think i was the real secret admirer, so he forgave me as long as i... do some work for him.”

oh. he's right about that though. and that also explains why kaeya looked so tired recently, helping out a friend with his project as a sincere apology.

“does he plan on revealing his identity anytime soon?” you can't help but ask, your eager eyes betraying the nonchalance in your voice. kaeya sighs at that, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms.

“i've been trying to convince him to. it's exhausting to look at him flailing about like an idiot. he talks about you all the time.” he frowns at the way your cheeks color. “you should try luring him out.”

you tilt your head in question. to show his point, he reaches out his arm, grabbing your hand. you let him do as he pleases, even as he brings the spoonful of your meal to his lips, and takes a bite out of it.

distantly, you hear a metal clatter against the floor and a voice cry out in surprise. you turn your head towards the noise, and you see—

the hell. it's just bennett tripping.

... but it's not like bennett dropped a metal utensil or anything. he is the one who cried out, though.

“wrong direction, sweetheart. you were supposed to look at the right. what a shame, you didn't see him picking up his fork like a fool.” kaeya laughs, releasing your hand from his grip.

he seems strangely reluctant in doing so, but you decide not to look further into it.

scaramouche:

at best, he is an unwilling spectator.

emphasis on “unwilling” because he truly does not wish to see you. like at all. you're pretty sure he hates your guts, but he'd amassed a lifetime's worth of misfortune and keeps seeing you... and the guys around you.

it's safe to say if your love life was turned into a k-drama, he'd probably seen the entire series.

he'd walked in on you when childe confessed he likes you, purple eyes narrowed into a sharp glare before he turned on his heel and left the room. he'd seen the way xiao looks at you, starstruck and excruciatingly fond, because of course scaramouche sat beside him in class (long, long ago they settled a mutual agreement to not speak to each other unless necessary, even if they hadn't verbally discussed it). he'd seen you at diluc's cafe, too, when diluc poured coffee at the angry customer. scaramouche's clothes were stained, as he was the customer sitting beside your table.

he'd seen you with kazuha when kazuha came to pick you up in the rain. he'd seen albedo draw sketches of you in the corner of his notes. he'd seen thoma with you while out for grocery shopping. he'd seen gorou follow after you not unlike a loyal puppy.

he's, reasonably, tired of seeing your stupid face and your stupid harem and he hates you.

by the looks of it, none of your friends like him. especially mona. she had a few arguments with him already. they didn't mix well, and scaramouche liked poking fun of the astrology she loved, a firm disbeliever of such things. “how is my birthday supposed to dictate my personality? or my relationship status? is this fortune-telling? tell me, then. what's my lucky color for the day-” and he only shut up when mona landed a clean kick to his shin.

...yeah. he's kind of an asshole. the type to scowl 24/7, glare at you for no reason, and bump into you without apologizing. then when you do try to make small talk to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, he scoffs and pointedly ignores you.

but you can't blame him for finding you and... the guys following you irritating. you imagine it must be an eyesore for outsiders. there's already quite a bit of rumors about you going around seducing men (and women, you add, because apparently you can't be friends with pretty girls without having those kinds of intentions... and yoimiya and ayaka could be somewhat touchy) and rumors are almost always wildly changed with each pass of gossip from one person to another.

of course your friends don't believe it one bit and are ready 24/7 to defend your honor, but scaramouche is very obviously not your friend, and he may regard you with something less than pleasing.

it's only understandable you're caught by surprise when you chance upon him picking a fight with people badmouthing you, shoving a boy to the wall with brute force you wouldn't expect from someone his size. (you berate yourself for making fun of his height in this kind of situation.)

“shut the fuck up,” scaramouche drawls out, fisting the boy's shirt collar. “your voice is grating to the ears. surely, you have better things to do than yap nonsensical bullshit out in the open?”

“what's your fucking problem?!” the guy responds, panicking within his grip. “it's not like we were talking about you! don't think so highly of yourself!”

that prompts a scoff from him, and he tightens his hold on the boy's collar. he immediately shuts his mouth, thinking it better not to retaliate. scaramouche's glare promises something beyond simple violence if he continued to act prideful.

somwhat satisfied by the fear glistening in the guy's eyes, scaramouche finally releases him. “scram.”

the group runs off, and you quickly duck behind a wall to hide from his sight as he walks away. you're not sure what to feel, conflicted by his usual prick demeanor and shockingly kind(?) actions behind the scenes.

unfortunately, your confusion reflects directly on your face. after a handful of times catching you staring at him, he finally snaps, “what do you want.”

your expression twists into something complex, and scaramouche's frown deepens. “uh... no, it's nothing, really...”

“you've been looking at me all day. do you take me for a fool?”

your face sours. so much for planning to thank him. maybe he didn't stand up for you and actually just found the noisy gossiping annoying enough to choke a guy and pin him to the wall. if it's scaramouche, it isn't too far-fetched at all.

and what were you going to say to him, anyway? it's not like he explicitly stated he did it for you. it would be beyond mortifying if you thanked him for it and he clarified that little detail, thinking you were stuck-up enough to assume the world revolves around you.

... no, that's too much overthinking, isn't it...

“well?” scaramouche impatiently taps his foot, raising an eyebrow expectantly. you hold back a defeated sigh and decide to stay put.

“sorry if i made you uncomfortable. i was, um, looking at...” who does he sit with again? “xiao!” you mentally apologize to your friend, using his name as an excuse.

impossibly, he becomes more irate than before, his taps ceasing into a calm quiet. the silence pierces more than the tense conversation prior.

without another word, he walks away.

...well. okay. that was safely evaded.

life continues on per usual. you don't interact for the next week, and you want to leave it at that.

except your life is a joke. a romantic comedy you never wanted to be a part of.

...you're assigned to a group project. with him. with childe too, no less. the childe who confessed his love to you not too long ago and you still have problems wrapping your head around it, not sure how to talk with him like you did before.

amidst this drama, scaramouche is stuck smack dab between you. he's unquestionably furious.

he's present when childe looks at you in the same excruciating way xiao does. he's present when childe tries to make jokes to ease off the tension, and it doesn't work in the slightest. he's present in the lingering gazes, awkward pauses when you graze fingers as you hand materials to each other, and reluctant conversations that never last any longer than seven clipped sentences.

scaramouche feels wronged. had he committed a war crime in his past life to deserve this despair?

and you. you just want to get this over with. collect information, make a powerpoint, and present in front of the whole class. easier said than done.

the three of you together doesn't sit right with you, but left with only two isn't any better either. childe and scaramouche don't get along if you leave them long enough for an argument to brew. scaramouche hates you and doesn't fill the silence when childe leaves for a bathroom break. childe tries too hard to talk when scaramouche leaves for a coffee break.

when the first day of working together ends, you nearly cry tears of joy.

“i can walk you home,” childe offers out of goodwill. it's certainly not because he has other intentions in mind, he's just concerned since it is pretty late.

“we take the same bus,” scaramouche speaks, for the first time joining your conversation. “we can go together.”

childe smiles in relief, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair. then he stills. old habits die hard. damn.

for his sake, you don't comment on it. you walk out of the library, scaramouche in tow.

the stroll to the empty bus stop isn't a comfortable one, but at the very least, you're accompanied by an acquaintance and you don't have to feel anxious being alone. you take a seat as you wait but scaramouche chooses to remain standing, placing a fair amount of distance between you.

“...you haven't made up?”

his voice is small, almost swallowed by the howling winds. you're surprised he wants to talk about it, but you laugh. “we didn't fight or anything.”

“fighting would've been better,” he replies. “an apology could still repair your relationship. but there's nothing you can do if you don't see him that way, and he can't see you as a friend.”

you look down at your feet, heels resting firmly against the pavement. “yes... it's tricky. i don't know how to act around him. i don't want to hurt him, but... maybe not rejecting him is painful, too.”

“then turn him down properly.”

“it's not that easy...”

“would you rather him still have hopes for a chance with you and eventually get disappointed instead of dealing with it once and for all?”

he makes an excellent point. it's reasonable enough... but you don't know how to bring it up with childe. not now. not yet. you'll have to think about it properly, the way to reject him with the least amount of discomfort from his side.

“receiving relationship advice from you... if someone told me this would happen today, i'd think they've gone mad.” you chuckle. “do you deal with friends whining about hardships like these often?”

“apparently, they think of me — someone who has no interest in dating — as the perfect person to consult for relationship problems.”

“hm? you don't date? do you like anyone, at least?”

he gives you a look. it's perfectly blank, devoid of his usual arrogance or irritation. you blink at him, the pause in the conversation stretching too long to be comfortable.

“you could say that. but i don't... try things i know won't work out.”

“...like?”

he rolls his eyes. “think about it this way.” he removes his hands from his pockets, approaching your seated figure. he comes startlingly close, mere centimeters away, and his fingers curl around your wrist. your lips part and close, and you wonder if he's trying to kiss your knuckles-

“if i told you now that i like you, with this many people who like you too, there's no way i'd win, is there?”

it's an example, you tell yourself. you asked him a question and he answered it.

“...so the one you like is popular...”

but his gaze looking directly into your eyes is too earnest, too honest. sincere. light reflects against the violet pools, a turbulent storm clouding within.

you neither nod nor shake your head. the bus arrives and you scramble to get on it.

scaramouche pulls you by the wrist when you nearly trip over the small set of stairs, leading you to a pair of seats. if you have something to be grateful for, it's that he doesn't try to talk anymore, using the pair of headphones resting by his neck for the rest of the ride.

itto:

itto barges into your life in a whirlwind of chaos.

it comes in the form of a stray volleyball plummeting towards your back, and the sheer force behind it knocks the wind out of your lungs. your knees buckle and you kneel on the floor, heaving violent gasps of air. the searing pain makes you wonder if you broke your spine.

distantly, a screech bellows from the court. a figure almost flies past the gymnasium's doors to check on your condition. “are you okay?!” it's gorou, you realize, his eyes blown wide with panic.

you don't want to worry him and say you feel as if you've permanently shattered a bone, but your back hurts like a bitch and you tell him so, “fuck me with a hammer, did a bowling ball crash into me or something?”

he ignores your interesting choice of words and answers, “my friends and i were playing volleyball, i'm so sorry! we didn't see you there at all!”

you steer your sight to the gymnasium entrance and oh my god. the doors aren't especially massive, and one of them is even closed, so what are the chances you walk past the small space and precisely get slammed by a stray ball? it's gotta be lower than a five star drop in gacha.

“can you stand?” gorou holds up a hand for you to take but you really can't move away from your fetal position without an explosion of ache jolting through your body. he's three seconds away from offering to carry you when someone else beats him to it.

“did you get hurt?!” a blur of white hair passes through your eyes, and you blink up at an unfamiliar man. gorou's friend, you're guessing, most likely the one who injured you too — that powerful force from the volleyball could only come from someone like him. tall, athletic, muscular. he's ripped. shredded. probably tore your muscle fibers too.

you don't let the pain cloud your mind. he didn't mean to kill you, you remind yourself. you stretch your lips into a smile, but it may just look like a grimace.

however, with a gentleness you didn't expect from him, he carefully hoists you on his back. oh. he's strong. and really warm.

...sticky with sweat too, but you'll try not to mind it too much...

“i'll carry you to the infirmary!”

your brain clears up from the haze of agony. “...wait, you don't have to-” before you get another word in, he rushes to the clinic, and you bypass many, many people. you settle for hiding your face as best as you can.

after proper treatment, he gives you a serious apology. you learn his name is itto, and you instantly recognize him. you've heard of the name itto before, that one popular student on a sports scholarship for basketball, but he's known more for goofing off with other sports teams. he's broken a lot of windows when he played baseball... and probably also broke bones of other people when he roughhoused too much on the soccer field. it's just that he's insanely talented, enough for most people to overlook his troublesome tendencies.

anyhow, famous or infamous, you can't tell yet. but he's very much willing to make up for your injury.

a free meal would honestly suffice just fine, but even after that, he insists on following you around, offering his assistance whenever needed. and, well. you have no problems with having an extra hand to help when you need to carry heavy equipment.

then he learns about the whole secret admirer thing and he proposes he'll help you lure him out.

“and how do you intend to do that...?” you inquire just as you enter the lecture hall, itto trailing after you and setting your bag on the table. his face splits into a grin and you have a vague idea of what he plans on doing.

he wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you close to his chest.

several things happen at once. a huff leaves xiao's mouth involuntarily. the crack of pencil lead breaking into pieces sounds from beside him, scaramouche holding the pen in his hand with too much force. the laughter ringing seconds prior comes to a halt, childe's face no longer displaying a bright smile.

itto blinks, retracting his arm. he didn't expect this outcome. “you have really overprotective friends, [name].”

as one would expect, you never got the results you want because too much people react to his provocations. it's tricky to pinpoint which one of them exactly is your secret admirer when they all like you the same. (this whole situation is truly absurd. it's not that you fed all these guys love potions by accident, right?)

itto doesn't dare upsetting gorou with this though, but with anyone else, it's free game. he begins calling you the most ridiculous pet names he could come up with, in the wrong place and in the wrong time.

my precious cupcake. my sweetest honeybun. little ducky. snugglepuff. they send shivers down your spine. (albedo is noted to be most affected when itto does this. it's not hard to imagine his brain cells frying when itto shamelessly calls you by such awful names.)

but then it becomes a habit. he's not doing it ironically anymore. his mouth had become accustomed to addressing you in manners only lovers do. more often than not, your friends would be caught by surprise when he wholeheartedly calls out “babe” to earn your attention and you turn towards him as if it's like the most natural thing in the world.

the cherry on top is when you attend one of his games for the basketball team.

it's not like you wore his varsity jacket to rub into everyone's faces the fact that you're dating. nor did you wear a cheerleader outfit of some sorts to show your passionate support as his significant other. you'd only come with gorou and kokomi, waving the banner the three of you made into the air as you were seated in the stands along the sides of the court.

when they won the finals, people on your side all rejoiced, flocking over to the team to praise them and offer their congratulations. thinking it would be better to stand by instead of joining the sweaty crowd, you stood aside with kokomi while gorou insisted on diving headfirst to the sea of people.

then a tall head approaches from afar. white hair, bright eyes, and a similarly blinding smile. “[name]!”

you didn't expect him to come to you. well. spares you the effort then. you throw a towel around his neck. “you're drenched in sweat. please don't touch me.”

he frowns. “not even a congratulatory hug?”

“not when you're this gross.”

at least that wasn't a stern no. itto grins. “wasn't i great out there?” he cards his fingers into his hair, fishing for compliments. you thought he had enough of those from the crowd currently swarming him. “i did a ton of 3 pointers. you saw me, right?”

“would you be disappointed if i said i was on my phone the whole time?”

immediately, his face twists into an offended look. of course that was a lie. you laugh and lean on the tips of your toes to reach his hair, ruffling it into a mess. “kidding. you were amazing, babe.”

that moment, you hadn't seen his expression clearly, occupied with patting his head. perhaps you hadn't even realized what you called him.

but to everyone around you, they could see it, plain to the eye — the shock in his gaze, the small twitch of his lips, the rise of his brows. then his cheeks flush a lovely color as he stares at you under his lashes with a hesitance as one would look at the sun, longing to admire its radiance yet afraid to be scorched by its brilliant rays.

he takes the leap anyways, staring at you as long as he wanted.

a lovestruck fool, keen to your touch.

your secret admirer.

relatively speaking, it's an ordinary day so far.

or as ordinary as it can be with a life as silly as yours. the past few weeks didn't feel real. you wish they weren't. everything has become too complicated. everyone kept on acting suspiciously and skirting around you, avoiding eye contact only to observe you from behind.

your day starts out seeing thoma when you open your front door, both of you telling each other good morning. you pass by kazuha having breakfast at a fast food joint. then you run into itto first thing in the morning, where he gladly helps in carrying a 3d model of your project into class. kaeya swings by to bring you coffee since you didn't get a chance to visit diluc's cafe, not having the extra hand to carry among the pile you already have. you make your daily greetings, saying hi to your friends and annoying xiao, as you always do. you nod towards scaramouche, and you even had enough courage to say hi first to childe too. when walking to another lecture hall, you happen to meet albedo, gorou and zhongli in separate times.

then at lunch time, when you briefly leave your belongings alone for a moment, someone leaves a packet of candies stuffed into your bag.

a sticky note is stuck on the surface, “please meet me at the physics classroom at 6 p.m.” scrawled in black ink.

the penmanship is good. it twists in elegant curls at the edges, brush strokes light and even.

you're able to recognize it at first glance, just as kaeya has told you.

you've seen it enough times to burn it in your brain. you've rigorously studied notes with that same handwriting, after all.

at 5:56, you stand in front of the classroom doors. in different circumstances, you'd have second thoughts before blindly following somebody's orders but you know who it's from, and it is decidedly not a murderer out to get you.

you collect an intake of breath, and twist the doorknob.

the last traces of sunlight bathe the room in a heavenly glow, a haze of aureate like shimmering flecks of gold. the billowing curtains hide the figure standing by the windowsill, the gentle breeze caressing your cheeks as you squint in its direction.

the figure moves of their accord, the sound of a book snapping shut following their actions.

albedo walks out, a serene smile displaying on his sun-kissed face.

“...hey.”

your heartbeat pounds in your ears. though you expected his appearance, it does nothing to dull your surprise.

“it's you.”

albedo had always admired you in quiet adoration.

he can't provide a clear explanation why his gaze is naturally drawn to you, turquoise eyes sweeping by your countenance before he realizes it. but it started out simple, as everything does: a curiosity piqued, when he heard of a person tagging along the supposedly unapproachable girls in school.

gossip comes and goes every season, and albedo knew it will pass soon. it's only a matter of time before they cling to another topic to babble about. most likely something kaeya did again, because he chases after trouble like a dog with a bone.

rumors are nasty. they paint you in malicious light, a person seeking attention among the most eye-catching lot. you wished you were on the same league as them, they said. you were only after the benefits of acquainting with those girls, they said.

but you were special on your own.

the way you carried yourself with confidence, against the judgmental stares and muddled opinions. the way you hadn't cared about what other people said, because you knew best about the situation and you were different from what they made you out to be. the way you genuinely loved your friends, sincerely wishing them happiness and doing everything you can to put a smile on their faces.

you were dazzling.

your laughter rang like bells in his ears, your grin a delight to see. your voice was melodious as you prattled on about the latest film you watched, or as you hummed a song with headphones covering your ears. your colorful expressions were amusing, a reflection of the feelings in your heart.

as the professor drones out during lessons, albedo finds himself distracted by his daydreams. what if he stood beside you? what if he could partake in conversations, not only able to hear your voice but you'd also hear his? what if he was the one faced with your smile, the reason of your smile, the one who made you feel such joy?

what if you permitted him to go further? to brush hands with you, to intertwine your fingers in simple intimacy, to curl his arms around your waist in a loose embrace, to press a kiss on the corner of your lips-

his ears burned in humiliation. what on earth was he thinking?

but forget “seeking attention from others,” it didn't even seem like you were interested in dating.

you showed indifference towards the idea, avoiding mixers and drinking parties. you also turned down quite a few dates. not to mention albedo wasn't even friends with you. he wasn't even sure if you knew of his name.

then you showed up at the library, and for the first time, albedo was thankful for the privilege nobody bothered his table, so you could sit alone together.

you became friends after his (despairingly embarrassing) insistent attempts to acquaint himself with you.

and he files away the little details, storing the small things about you in the corner of his mind. what you like, what you dislike. what days were you free, what things you prefer over the other.

it's a happiness he relishes in, the comfort of your friendship. but his greedy little heart yearns for more, for what you cannot give.

he tries anyway.

he's running out of time. you're always surrounded by people, whether you realize it or not. but he considers himself a selfish person. he doesn't want you to be taken away.

he may lose you entirely if he does it wrong.

but you're already here, eyes gleaming, lips pressed in a nervous tight line. the red dusting your cheeks leaves some hope for him, so he musters up his courage and simplifies the storm of feelings that eats away his heart each day:

“i like you, [name].”

chrysopoeia.

summary: The day your mother creates Albedo, your life is changed forever. 

notes: childhood friends, angst, a negligent mother/mentor, albedo character story spoilers, 7.3k words

You leave him during an early blue dawn, and he can do nothing but let you go.

You’d spend at least six months in Liyue, you tell him, and then, you’ll find passage to Inazuma. You would make your way across Teyvat, sending home letters whenever you could.

“Klee is going to miss you,” Albedo says carefully.

“I’ll send souvenirs,” you reply. “Nothing as grand as Alice does, of course.”

“Klee will appreciate it if it’s from you. She was holding back tears the whole time we were eating dinner, you know.”

You smile wistfully, and Albedo wonders if there was someway he could preserve that look in his memory forever. “I’ll miss her, too.”

The merchant group which has graciously offered you a seat on one of their wagons is almost done prepping for the road trip to Liyue, the cargo checked and double checked again. For a brief, fleeting moment Albedo entertains the childish urge to disrupt the wagon using his geo vision, so you’d stay with him if only for a few hours more.

But he couldn’t do that to you. Instead, he takes your hand and presses a key into your palm. “You’ll always have a home here, don’t forget. You can come back anytime you want to. I’ll be waiting.”

You curl your fingers over the key, over his hand. “Yeah? I’ll let you know when I’m on the way home, so don’t wear yourself out waiting for me.”

Even after everything you had been through, even after all your years together, your hands are just as warm as he remembers, and he can’t bring himself to let go first. If he was more selfish, he would ask you to stay. There has never been a single moment where you were so far that when he called your name, you didn’t come running.

But this is the decision you’ve made, and he loves you too much to keep you close when you need to leave.

He wants to laugh at his master, at your mother. What would she do if she could see the two of you now, disregarding her last letter? Perhaps the best thing she has ever done to the two of you is to leave. If she hadn’t been so blinded, she would have realized you were more precious than anything she could ever create. Now, he finally has the answer to her final assignment, to find the truth of the world. The truth of his world is…

The merchants call your name, and you turn to leave, and Albedo knows he’ll never see anything like the light of the dawn reflected in your eyes ever again, not until you come back home, not until you come back to him.

So until then, Albedo smiles, and sends you off as the sun breaks up the blue dawn.

Keep reading

Do It Again

Kurapika X Reader

A/N: My first Kurapika fic and it's an apology to @ihatealimore for making her accidentally like Ging in that one fic I did. ily <3

Description: After a long time of not seeing each other, you finally meet up with your good friends over dinner. It goes a little different than expected though... especially after you see him smile so genuine and true for the first time.

Tags: fluff, first kiss, gn!reader

Word Count: 1607

Being a hunter was a beautifully unfortunate experience. Beautiful because you’ve made so many friends since the day you took the exam, but unfortunate because you almost never got to see those friends thanks to your differing professions. Yes you were delighted to be able to pursue your goals thanks to the power of a Hunter’s license, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t miss your friends a whole hell of a lot. That’s why today was exciting though. Today you were finally able to get into contact with said friends after so long and agree on a place to have dinner together. It had been so long since you last saw Leorio and Kurapika, so your excitement was completely within reason.

Of course you were early. The excitement was killing you so you got a booth at the restaurant of choice and eagerly awaited the arrival of your two closest friends. It would’ve been four, but the young ones, Gon and Killua, were off taking care of some wild business that no normal child would ever encounter. Those kids weren’t normal though, so you sat and imagined what kind of crazy stuff they were doing while you waited for Kurapika and Leorio.

About five minutes before the specified meeting time, you were absentmindedly scrolling away on your phone when you received a text. The notification banner said ‘look up’ which was an odd sort of text to receive, but it was from Kurapika. Your head never jerked upright so fast and you found yourself face to face with the blonde Kurta, joy immediately taking over your being.

“You’re here!” You gasped, practically leaping out of your seat.

It was a sort of knee-jerk reaction. You were aware he wasn’t a huge fan of physical contact, but the urge to hug him was far too strong for you to control. The grip you had on him was bone crushing and just when you realized it would maybe be a good idea to let go, he returned the gesture. You didn’t expect him to, so it was a pleasant surprise when his arms wrapped around your waist and he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“Sorry for the sudden hug but… I’m just glad to see you again.” You chuckled sheepishly when you finally let him go.

“Don’t be. It’s… Really nice to finally see you again too.” He sighed with a hint of a smile.

His words brightened you up. “I’m glad to hear that then! So, where’s Leorio? I thought for sure you’d come together considering how closely you work now.”

“He didn’t text you? He’s caught up in traffic right now so he’ll be a bit late.” Kurapika answered.

“Oh of course he forgets to tell me: one of the people he’s supposed to meet up with.” You groaned.

“It’s alright.” He huffed. “Let’s sit and have a couple drinks while we wait.”

So, you did exactly that. You and Kurapika sat down on the same side of the booth together and called for drinks, engaging in casual catch up conversation. It was so nice to hear from him again, and the two of you relayed stories back and forth to each other for at least twenty minutes. Both of you had accomplished a lot since you last spoke, and it was nice to hear all the neat and crazy things you had done.

Stories soon turned into jokes though, as it was a habit of yours to be comedic in many situations. Leorio was still not there so he inevitably became the butt of most jokes, you jesting about his tardiness and whatnot. As you joked, you said something incredibly funny apparently. One of your jokes struck Kurapika in just the right way and caused him to burst out laughing, something you had rarely seen him do. While he laughed, you became mesmerized, watching how his mouth turned up at the corners in such a way you thought someone as broken as him wouldn’t ever be able to do. All because of your joke, he laughed a genuine laugh poorly hidden by a hand, and you couldn’t help but stare.

The silence that you accidentally created ended up making Kurapika embarrassed. When he found you staring at him after his laughter died down he awkwardly cleared his throat, a smidgen of blush rising on his cheeks.

“W-what? You know you’re staring, right?” He spoke up.

“Yeah, I know. Can you do that again?” You asked without even flinching.

“What?”

“That smile! The laughter! Do it again! My god I’ve never seen you look so joyous. It’s charming~” You hummed, leaning towards him.

He blushed a little redder and covered one side of his face with a hand, unsure of what to say to you. He was too flustered to come up with something, so he huffed in embarrassment as he struggled to maintain eye contact.

“You know this is kinda unfair. This is what I missed out on being away from you? Damn. I love your smile about as much as I love you.” You rambled on.

“__-_______…” He said quietly, now looking away a little.

“Oh, was that too much? Ah shit I’m sorry. I’m a little bit tipsy so I can’t shut up.” You apologized, leaning your arms on the table.

“I-it’s fine, actually.” He said once he collected his thoughts. “I’ve… actually considered smiling more because of you.”

His words parked you up and his hand rested on your forearm, making it your turn to blush now. He faced you head on, and he definitely looked like he had something more to say. His touch was welcoming, and your heart did flips as you waited to hear what more he had to say to you. Unfortunately you’d have to wait to find out what was on his mind, as a frantically panting Leorio stumbled up to your table and made both of you retract your hands and arms underneath it rapidly.

“Sorry I’m late!” Leorio gasped, hands on his knees. “Traffic got even worse the closer I got.”

“N-no problem! C’mon, sit down and let’s catch up, hey?” You replied, showing your anxious tone back down your throat.

“And perhaps catch your breath while you’re at it.” Kurapika added.

“Really? I guess it’s your turn for bad jokes now.” You snorted.

“Well I’ve clearly missed a lot! Don’t leave me out, hey!” Leorio whined.

With all of you finally there it was time to order food. Leorio sat across from you and Kurapika and soon all your orders were in, jumping back to lighthearted conversation about all the wild things you’ve done, this time hearing Leorio’s side of things. It was just as insane, if not crazier. The incident at the election had you smacking the table as you laughed, the evening filled with joy and friendship. This went on for half an hour, bantering back and forth like old times until Leorio dismissed himself for the washroom. That was when Kurapika sighed deeply, catching your attention.

“You alright?” You asked.

“I’m just glad he finally left for a moment.” He sighed.

“What, is he that annoying or something?” You laughed.

“No, not at all. I just don’t want him to make a snarky comment about this.” He huffed.

“About wh-mm!”

Kurapika leaned in the short distance and captured your lips with his, surprising you. Your blush flared up again almost instantly and your heart hammered against your chest. With his shoulder gently touching yours though, you were instantly soothed, and soon melted into the sensation. It was sweet and warm, and you were genuinely disappointed when he pulled back and his soft lips no longer touched yours.

“That’s what I was trying to do earlier.” He said. “Because you really do make me smile.”

“Can… Can you do that again too?” You asked quietly, a smile slowly spreading on your face.

“With pleasure.”

He kissed you again just as you asked, and this time you melted completely. You leaned in until your shoulders slipped past one another, his hand now resting on your thigh. The closeness was welcomed, having never been this intimate before. At first it was a scary thought, but once you touched, you both realized it was what you wanted and there was no need to fear rejection. You would’ve stayed like that for longer if you could’ve, but you could hear Leorio’s footsteps approaching from behind the booth. Both of you parted with hesitance, but didn’t want an ear blasting from the mischievous medic so you returned to your original positions. Kurapika’s hand still remained on your thigh though, which made you extremely giddy.

“I’m back! Did I miss anything?” Leorio asked as he sat back down.

“Mmm, not really.” You replied, unable to hide the smile that matched Kurapika’s.

“... Are you sure? Both of you are smiling. Did you say something funny to him?” Leorio pressed.

“Not exactly…” Kurapika said.

“Oooh. I know what’s going on here. I think I know what happened.” He smirked.

“Leorio… Not now.” You growled, getting redder.

He laughed at both of you, proud of his teasing. He absolutely knew what was up but thankfully kept to himself, and you put your head in your hands with a deep sigh. Kurapika gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze, meaning you could continue your thoughts with him later. All you needed was a little more time to put up with the banter over dessert until you’d finally get a chance to be alone with Kurapika again.

Not how you expected dinner to go, but it was a wonderful surprise nonetheless.

Hmmm with Albedo at 1 pm

[1 pm]: "and i'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand"

100 Followers Event Prompts + Masterlist

now playing: thinking out loud - ed sheeran

pairing: Albedo x gn!reader

genre: Fluff, soulmate!au, very light angst almost unnoticeable

a/n: I have such a huge urge to write a part 2, but I just don't know.

Word: Soulmate

Definition: A person who is perfectly suited to another in every single way. Someone you are predestined to be with.

Word: Homunculus

Definition: A life form that is artificially created by an alchemist.

Theory: Homunculi do not have soulmates.

A homunculus is not created by the hands of the gods, therefore it is a transgression to the natural order that Celestia has ordained. When faced with such an anomaly, the evidence of human hubris in thinking they can usurp the life-giving powers of the higher beings, who is to say that the gods will look favorably on that which should not exist?

Who is to say that this entity is deserving of a soulmate?

Albedo has no problem reconciliating himself with this theory, even while some of the people around him scramble eagerly around to find their destined one.

How equally fascinating and mind-boggling that a single touch of the hand is enough for one to recognize their soulmate.

While he can somewhat understand a human's need to seek out love and companionship, he himself does not despair over the fact that he may never have his one and only. He is very much content with the status of the relationships he has at the moment, and find no need to occupy his mind with other matters when there are questions about the world that needs explaining.

Until you came stumbling into his life, that is.

He was in the middle of sketching something that caught his attention when the serene silence is broken by a loud scream. He whip his head around to see you sprinting for your life towards him, the only thing coming out your mouth is a simple "Lawachurl!"

That is all it took for him to run after you and telling you he knows a place where you can hide. He leads you to the mouth of a cave where the two of you had your backs to the wall, hidden from sight. Only when the growling died down and the footsteps sounded far away did you breathe a sigh of relief.

"Hi," you offer a timid smile.

"Hi," he responds, noticing that he has never seen your face around Mondstadt before.

"Sorry for dragging you into this."

"No, it's all right. Dragonspine is a very unexpected place, after all." He also sees the way you shiver despite the layers of clothing you have on. "My camp is nearby, if you don't mind we can go there to get you warmed up."

It only took a warm bowl of soup and a roaring fire to get the both of you acquainted with one another. He found out that you're an adventurer drawn to the city of wind partly due to the tales of the mountains of everlasting winter that had enchanted you when you were little.

You, in turn, learn that he is an alchemist with a mind too curious and far too brilliant, whose body seem to not register the cold as much as a normal human should.

"And, what is your impression of Dragonspine thus far?" He asks as he takes the bowl away from you.

"It does look to be a place right out of a fairytale book, like the ones that tell of a princess made of snow and her castle made of crystal on the side of the mountain. But there's something oddly melancholic about this place, as if tragedies upon tragedies are buried here. Never to see the sun again."

Albedo sees you staring out at where the stark-white bones of a great beast lay, and he cannot help but agree with you.

So begins an eccentric routine of him occasionally spotting you in Dragonspine, him inviting you back to camp, him continuing to do his experiments while at times listening to you.

You have a way of telling stories, making them feel so alive and vibrant that he almost believed he was there experiencing what you experienced, seeing what you saw, sensing what you sensed.

"Why do you continue to come back to Dragonspine?" he questions one day as he observes the reaction of mixing Electro Crystals with Mist Flower Corollas.

"If no one has the mind to wonder and a will to discover despite the dangers and uncertainty of it all, nothing in the world will be known," you say simply.

He leaves it at that.

Albedo does not want to admit it, but he looks forward to your visits, revels in your presence in a way that is different from his other relationships.

A good different, he decides.

A kind of different that makes something inside him stir, makes him feel comfortable and at ease with you even when not a single word is exchanged between the two of you. Makes him feel like he can simply be himself around you.

For all of his brilliance, he cannot put a name to whatever it is you invoke in him. It feels foreign, alien, unknown. It feels almost human.

Albedo sets down whatever he is working on and turn over to look at you. You're taking a nap right after lunch, a picture of tranquility as your chest rises slowly up and down, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks.

A couple of hair strands fall onto your sleeping face, and suddenly he has the urge to brush them behind your ears.

If his theory is correct, then nothing would happen right? And he has his gloves on, so it should be fine, right? It's not like his heart is shaking and his throat feels like it's constricting as he slowly moves his hand closer to your face, something tugging at his heartstrings as his fingers lightly graze your strands.

He retracts his hand, unable to submit himself.

(Another part of his mind tells him that he is afraid).

Word: Coward

Definition: Who he is right now.

꩜  FEATURING  ﹕albedo x reader

𖠣   SUMMARY    ﹕you try to get your boyfriend, albedo's attention as he read books.

꩜  WARNINGS   ﹕not sfw , praising , thigh riding

you stared at albedo miserably as he worked with the pile of old and large books placed on his table. you sat on the bed, your legs formed a W position as a pout was visible on your lips. no matter what actions you took, whether you tried to act all cutesy and even tried to touch yourself in front of him, your boyfriend wouldn't even give her attention.

you understood. he was studying one of his experiments again. but this time, he was so engrossed by it that he didn't even notice the things you did just for his attention. you whined as you stood up. your foot felt the coldness of the floor as you walked towards albedo.

your eyebrows furrowed when he still didn't turn his eyes on you. you clicked your tounge as the room that was once silent was filled with a sudden slam on the table. the cause? none other than you. his eyes immediately landed at you, one of his eyebrows raising up at the unexpected action you took.

"i want you"

he placed down the book he was reading as leaned back, his hands crossing as he looked at you "oh" he cocked up a brow. "what's this?" he smirked, enjoying the view of desperation on you face. finally.

"such a pretty girl can't even keep her pussy in check."

obviously trying to tease you who was now glaring at him. well, he suppose he didn't pay that much attention to your needs for the past few days and he definitely needed to make up for that. with the your boldness obviously acting as plus points, he decided to let her be.

albedo hands patted his right lap and your eyes lit up, your eyes asked confirmation. "hurry it up before i change my mind." he demanded as he got the book he was reading a while ago as you make your way to him.

you sat her legs between his thigh and a slight moan escaped her lip, the male groaning when he had realized that you were only wearing his t-shirts and some lace undies. "get off on my thigh"

you didn't hesitate — you were so needy that even if the man asked her to beg right there, she would do it. you didn't even care that he was reading a book as you try your best to cum on his thighs. it made you even more excited when you felt his hot breath on your neck.

you moaned as you started to move up and down, rubbing your clothed clit into his thigh. his other hand slid inside you shirt, holding your waist and guiding you as you ride his thigh.

"a-ahh fuck"

his other hand held a book he continued reading, he tried his best to keep his attention on the book though he failed when a certain hand clasp around his chin and turned his faced towards her. your expression was so erotic that it can be enough to turn him on, though, he had successfully controlled himself.

albedo frowned, "pretty girl is getting a little bit too clingy, huh?"

he said as he cupped your ass with his one hand, the book it once held into now on the floor as he guided the female. you wrapped your hands around his neck as you rode his thigh. the room was filled with the sound of your skin touching and moans from the two of you.

"b-bedo" you cried out as the pace started going faster. your knees accidentally scraping in between his legs which caused him to let out a moan.

he felt his cock harden at the simple contact and it made him want to see you cum as soon as possible. he had all of it planned on his head already. to make you cum while riding his thigh and then fucking you on the bed until her head can't think of anything aside of his name anymore. he wanted to fill you with his cum and he will make sure that you will take it all in. your moans were like music to his ears.

"there there, good girl, you sound so fucking good when you moan."

numbers can't even count how many moans you let out when the man's legs started moving his legs, matching her movements. and before you knew it, you had already reached your climax. even though you still had your undies, your cum still dripped into albedo's pants.

"now now, we have to punish you for that don't we?"

@athieira

kiss & don’t tell | albedo

some soft albedo fluff bc I had a busy day. This was just wordvomit and not planned to be a full thing but here we are many words later ^^;

pairing | albedo/reader

genre | soft, fluff, developing relationship, dense idiots

Consider Albedo who you always go to for help with makeup for very important events and dates. Albedo who humors you and just lets you rant and talk about your day as he delicately applies eyeshadow with shimmering accents that complement your outfits. Albedo who has slowly developed feelings for you with each makeup session and hangout and slowly loses his patience with each date you go on that results in nothing more than a night wasted.

“May I ask why you come to me for wardrobe matters?” he’ll ask as he sighs with a small smile, already setting up the palettes he’s chosen for this particular outfit you’ve shown up in. “What makes you think I’m the best suited for this?”

You just smile, always using the same reasoning. “As an artist, you have a keen eye for colors and style. It’s never too much or too little. As an alchemist, your hand is steadier than mine when it comes to applying eyeliner. You’re perfect for this Bedo.”

“Perfection is hardly attainable,” he chuckles, but turns your seat in the direction of the mirror behind you once he’s finished. “But I’ll make sure you’re nothing but the pinnacle of grace and perfection when I’m finished.”

“And that’s why you’re my number one makeup artist,” you tease with a beaming grin.

You thank his services by bringing him lunch when he’s too busy holed up in his lab back in the Favonius headquarters. Though he says the gesture isn’t necessary, there’s always a little glimmer of intrigue when the meal you bring him is something homemade by you.

The formal gala, an event at Angel’s Share, a random date here and there— Albedo was there for them all. The less recurring of the these was a date. He didn’t really show interest, not really. But the few times you showed up the next day disheartened or with visible signs of crying— well, suddenly the alchemist’s heart began to do confusing leaps.

“What’s the occasion this time,” Albedo asks with a sigh through his nose, turning you in the chair to face the mirror as he clipped your hair out of your face. He asks for formality’s sake but seeing the same lovely black satin dress and shimmering necklace adoring the loose dip of the bust— he already knew this one was another date.

You dutifully close your eyes as he begins dabbing some hydrating face cream on you. “Date night. Lisa set this one up.”

He lets out a chuckle. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”

It doesn’t take much to get you talking if it’ll fill the silence. Not that you minded some peaceful quiet. “Well, he’s a little boring but I should give this a chance.” The forced smile on your face is more so to convince yourself. “I’ve been around this guy before and… he puts me to sleep faster than the Acting Grandmaster’s paperwork.”

Albedo hums.

“What is your ideal outing, then?”

You pause to think as he finishes the skilled flicks of his wrist for your eyeliner. Albedo holds your face steady with a gentle crook of his finger under your chin, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of his quiet breathing and calculated hand movements. With closed eyes, your mind wonders what kind of concentrated expression he holds as he works on you.

“If I’m honest, the ideal would be— this. Hanging out like we do. They’re all too shy, too boring, too dull for my tastes. They hardly ever initiate anything.”

You sigh and open your eyes, watching as Albedo listens intently while picking the perfect shade of lipstick for you. Though you don’t have to, you close your eyes as he approaches to apply the lipgloss he’s decided on. It’s better than the nerves you get when staring into his eyes as he softly runs a thumb over your lips.

Before he starts, you get your final little complaint in, “It’s always me taking the lead, me asking sweetly for a kiss, me holding their hand. How frustrating that none of these men leave me—“ You’re cut short by the warm press of lips on your cheek. “—Guessing.”

When you open your eyes, Albedo is methodically applying lipgloss as if nothing happened. The smug look on his face only confirms that you aren’t imagining things as a warmth spreads across your cheeks.

“Was that unexpected enough for your liking?” he asks with a side glance as he packs up your supplies neatly into their bag.

You blink owlishly at him, eyes a little unfocused as your mind runs in too many directions at once.

He makes his way over to neatly sweep your hair over one shoulder, ignoring your loss of words. The brush of his fingers over your shoulder makes you audibly gulp in anticipation.

“Allow me to make a proposition,” Albedo begins, circling around you to idly fix up his desk. “And this is entirely up to your moral alignment. However, if I were to suggest standing up this arranged date of yours in favor of going out to Angel’s Share with me— what would be your answer?”

It takes you a moment to collect yourself, but you smile genuinely. It’s an answer enough in itself.

“I’d love nothing more.”

with love, [kazuha]

dear: @mooscutely​

prompt : kazuha + comfort 

warnings : spoilers from archon quest if you haven’t finished, mentions of death, ayato’s hotpot 

notes : i tried ;-; im sorry if this isnt what you expected 

dearest heart,

i hope all is well in liyue. it should be autumn soon, the leaves must look beautiful this time of year, just as they did the last time we were together. though, please do remember to take your scarf along with you since it does get a little chilly.

i imagine news of the raiden shogun’s declaration has reached your shores by now. it is as they say, inazuma is now at peace; though the war was neither won nor lost. even as i write this, people still celebrate throughout the nation. the streets are rife with laughter and joy and anegimi might have had one too many bottles of sake at the victory feast on watatsumi island. by the time you receive this, we should be halfway to liyue. before we left for ritou, i managed to slip away from the reverie and ayato-dono’s questionable invitation for a celebratory hotpot to visit my old friend. he now rests well beneath the ever-glowing sunset of our land. how i wish he could see our victory, our joy and the grace of the sword art he yearned to triumph. i have bore witness to it’s ferocity, felt the bite of electricity on my sword, heard the crackle of death in my ears and some part of me now understands why he sought to defy it. for it is a badge, a recognition of your skills as a swordsman. to defy the greatest warrior in our land is to become the greatest. the fool, he was.

you must be seething by now, my dear. i can almost hear the lecture i shall receive the moment the alcor docks. fret now, love, for i am well. i doubt i would be writing you this letter at all if not for his vision reawakening in the battle of the tenshukaku. strangely enough, there is a certain tug in my chest when i think about that moment. it was as if he was there again, by my side, wielding his sword with that practiced ease and that infuriating smirk on his face. his wish has now been fulfilled and so has mine, but it feels like the day we parted all over again. we’re soon to depart from ritou and i am already counting down the hours to our fated reunion. being apart from you is more difficult than i imagined, and i know you must feel the same too. when we disembarked from liyue at the request of the divine priestess of watatsumi island, i left a piece of my heart with you. you have been, and will always be, the place i truly call home. i can only hope to be the same for you.

as much as i would like to continue my letter to you, anegimi calls for help. now that i am a free man, i hope to bring you to my nation one day, to the place i once called home. to think that i would be able to walk the streets of inazuma with you is a thought i had never dared to dream.

wait for me at the docks, i wish for your smile to be the first thing i see.

until then, my love.

- kazuha

Hi!! I'm back with another req if you don't mind. Can I req "I appreciate you for you" with toge

hope you enjoy :)

appreciation / toge inumaki x f!reader 

warnings: none :)

word count: 1748

Toge was the definition of a good boyfriend. He doted on your every need, want and desire, went above and beyond to make sure you were happy, even if it meant he missed out. It didn’t matter how many times you told him that just being him was simply enough, he had to prove to you that he was worthy of your love and affection. He couldn’t exactly tell you in words, so he promised himself to make up for it in actions. Toge was so deeply in love with you, that it often pained him that he fell short in the verbal aspect, longing to tell you how beautiful you looked with his words, and how simply honoured he was that you’d chosen him to be intimate with. All it usually took to quell his worries was your lips, telling him that you loved him, kissing him so tenderly that he was certain you’d bring a grown man to tears.

But today, not even your soft and kind ways would calm the swirling jealously he felt.

“Did you do something different with your hair?” Yuuji said as you sat scribbling away at your notebook, your other friends making small talk as you studied, “it looks nice, Y/N.”

His voice startled you a little, looking up at him like a deer in the headlights. He chuckled softly at your expression, and the appreciative smile that curled at your lips.

“Oh, yeah, I straightened it this morning. Thanks for noticing, Yuuji.”

“I wish my hair was as pretty as yours,” Nobara sighed, pressing her chin into her palm, “I can never get mine to sit right.”

As you giggled sweetly, telling Nobara she was wrong and that her hair was just as nice as the next person, you felt a hand squeeze your knee. Your attention turned to Toge, who’s eyes were down at his homework and trying to block out the compliments being poured onto you.

“I’m not one to particularly care about hairstyles,” Maki chimed in, “but your hair is always nice, Y/N. Yuuji is just a guy and can’t see something unless it’s thrown at him.”

“Hey!”

Toge squeezed your knee harder, a clear expression of irritation on his features. You placed your hand over his, gently rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. He relaxed slightly, but the tension was still evident in his face. He’d scrawled down on some paper that morning how pretty he thought you looked, styling your hair in his mirror, and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he passed it to you. You kept the piece of paper, just how you did with all the of compliments he gave you and stuffed it in your purse with the others. They were treasures, little reminders of how much he loved you, but to him it was never enough, especially when everyone else could tell you with their own voices.

Just once, he wished you could hear him say it without the worry he could hurt you.

“Thanks, guys,” you say, smiling at your friends, “you’re all so sweet.”

You laced your fingers with Toge’s, squeezing and caressing his skin. The only person not to comment, which you were rather happy about, was Megumi, who’s had an insanely obvious, raging crush on you for some time now. Nobara often poked fun, getting him all flustered when you were around and making jokes about how he couldn’t stop staring. You took it as a compliment, as Megumi was a dear friend of yours, and never made him feel uncomfortable about it. Nobara just had a special gift in that department.

“Hey, Megumi,” Nobara suddenly said, “you haven’t said Y/N looks nice today.”

The raven-haired boy’s cheeks burned crimson, his attention turning to you and your soft, ‘sorry about her’ smile. He stuttered a little, as you kicked Nobara’s shin under the table.

“That hurt!” she protested, rubbing the sore as huffing about how it was only a joke.

“You don’t have to say anything, Megumi-”

“I like it,” he interrupted, Toge’s grip on your hand like iron, “it- it suits you, Y/N.”

Nobara stifled a laugh, as you opened your mouth to tell him that there really is no need to succumb to Nobara’s teasing, when Toge got up abruptly.

“Inumaki, you good?” Yuuji asked, but Toge didn’t make any indication he’d heard him, and snatched his notebook off the table, leaving before you could even say one word.

“What’s gotten into him?” Nobara said absentmindedly, and you sighed heavily, before grabbing your things to run after him.

He just couldn’t listen to it anymore. Something as silly as a comment about how nice your hair looked had his heart and chest on fire. Why was it that everyone else, even Fushiguro, could express their appreciation for you and he couldn’t? Why did it bother him so much when all you ever did was tell him how much you loved him, and that in his own, special way, tells you how he feels?

It was just a bit too much today, it seemed.

He left campus, heading for the little flower shop in town that you loved so much. Quite often he bought you flowers, mostly your favourites, just a sweet gesture. The woman inside knew him by name now, always commenting on how lucky his girl is to have someone as lovely as him. It was a shame she had no idea just how wonderful you happened to be.

You’d searched the entire campus, to no avail. His dorm room was empty, he wasn’t in his usual places, and by the time the sun had set you were completely beat. He hadn’t replied to your abundance of text messages, which only made you worry that he was mad at you. You knew how this kind of thing affected him, and even after countless talks with Nobara, she still fuelled the fire. As much as you loved her, deep down, she was a troublemaker. The lamp on the bedside table illuminated the corner of your room that you’d couped yourself up in, laptop on your knee but your mind was not one bit interested in the work before you. Your eyes constantly fell on your phone, hoping he’d just let you know he was back, safe and sound. Then knuckles tapped against the door to your room, and your heart fell to your stomach. Scrambling out of the mound of blankets, you rushed to open it, eager to know if it was him, so you could wrap him up and kiss his sweet little face and tell him that you loved him.

Swinging the door open, you were ready to lecture him about how worried you’d been, when the bouquet of flowers in his hand stopped you. He walked in, closing the door softly behind him, and held them out to you, your favourites, in all the colours you could think of.

“Toge,” you breathed, gently brushing your fingers over the soft petals, “you didn’t have to.”

He placed two fingers under your chin, lifting your head so he could press a kiss to your mouth. You’d missed him, for the short time he’d been gone, and you kissed him back immediately, sighing into it as his hands pull you closer by the hips. His hands pushed your jumper up slightly so his thumbs could rub small circles into your sides, basking in the warmth of your skin and lips. As he pulled away, still staying close, he murmured something that almost bought you to tears.

“I love you.”

He’d never said it out loud before, out of fear that it might inflict something on you, although the words themselves had no malice in them. His ability was still difficult to understand, not even he had grasped it fully, and your safety was paramount, always, at every moment of every day. His hands cupped your face, wiping the teardrop that had escaped, kissing the skin where it was.

“I love you,” you whispered back to him, as he took the flowers from your grasp and placed them down onto the bed, pulling you back into him and pressing your foreheads together.

“My angel,” he said, voice quiet, calculating in his mind exactly how to say what he wanted to without activating his cursed speech. You just listened, letting some more happy tears fall as his kind and gentle voice filled your ears, hands holding you close to him and lips peppering kisses across your cheeks.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, kissing your jaw, neck, pulling your jumper so he could kiss your shoulder, collarbone, anywhere his lips could reach. Your hands found his hair, tangling in it, earning a quiet groan from him as your nails scratched lightly at his scalp. His presence was so comforting, everything about him was simply intoxicating, his breath hot against your skin as he mutters, “I’m sorry.”

You push him away slightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and eyes swirling with the question of why on earth he was apologising.

“Huh?” you say quietly, “why? You have nothing to be sorry for, honey.”

He brushed some hair behind your ear, eyes so full of love for you.

“Can’t say much,” he got out, struggling to find the words quick enough to say them, “to you.”

Your heart sank, knowing that he’d been upset about earlier, so he bought flowers, and had probably been planning on how to say those words to you all afternoon. It broke you that he was so angry with himself.

“Toge,” you breathed, cupping his jaw, and putting all his attention onto you, “listen to me, I love you, just the way you are. We understand one another, even without words, and I appreciate everything you do, Toge. I appreciate you for you.”

The look in eyes was almost drunk, so enamoured by you and everything that you are. So kind, so full of love for him, such a precious and beautiful soul. His lips found yours again, kissing you harder this time, his fingers gripping the hair at the nape of your neck. “I love you,” he said again, louder this time, opening his eyes to see if you were still standing there, unharmed and in his embrace.

You were, and the look of complete happiness on your face would be engraved in his mind forever.

“I love you, Inu,” you say to him, pressing a kiss to his face, “I love you, for you.”

disclaimer: I do not own jujutsu kaisen or any of the characters or storyline associated with it 

"Are you in love with me?" (Albedo's version)

Albedo pauses, but only for a mere moment. You couldn't tell if he had paused because of the question, or if he had found something wrong with the vial in his hand. 

"Curious," he states. 

"Curious?" You parrot, "What is?" A deep pit is now forming in your stomach. Perhaps this was not your smartest idea, attempting to probe into his mind to find out if he held similar feelings as your own. 

"Your question," he replies, "I'm pondering over what exactly provoked it." 

"Uh," you mumble, the air around your face suddenly becoming warmer, "Just wondering." 

He only replies with a hum, seemingly returning to his research as if you had never asked anything to begin with. The pit in your stomach from earlier proceeds to become worse, beginning to gnaw at you like a savage animal. 

"What would happen if I said yes to your question?" 

You don't automatically process his inquiry. "Huh?" 

Albedo turns around to face you, the vial is no longer in his possession. "What if I told you I was in love with you? What would you do then?" 

"I-uhm," you cannot find the words, they fail you. "That's a difficult question to answer, because I don't think you actually are." 

"Curious," he says again. "I don't fully understand the word 'love', as I have previously stated before. However…" 

However? 

"To say I'm not quite fond of you, would be incorrect." His index finger and thumb cradle his chin.

"You…" 

"Actually, would you be kind enough to help me with another experiment?" 

"Huh?" You say again, "What type of experiment?" Your tone is hesitant, giving away your nervousness. He shows you a small smile, but says nothing; it only adds to your confusion. 

It happens in the blink of an eye: the space between the two of you is now nonexistent. Albedo is close enough to you now, you can make observations you wouldn't normally be able to from afar. His eyes twitch, glancing from your own eyes to your lips. Observing. 

"Albedo?" You don't mean to squeak out his name, but he had never been this close before. So intimate.

His fingers hook your chin, lightly tugging your head upwards. Your eyes lock, and you stay in that pose for a few seconds. 

His lips touch your own, brush up against them with curiosity. You don't have time to put the puzzle pieces together; his lips are already claiming yours. 

He pulls away after what feels like a few good seconds. 

"Interesting."

--

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@sierrascribbles , @dulcesiabits , @lesbianrumi , @tater-tati , @paperbagpetrichor , @halcyon-writings , @yandere-romanticaa , @josuke8 , @phen0l , @yearning-moon , @universal-imagines , @yuezhong , @wangshengs , @fugufishie , @acxciia , @with-the-ink-of-a-ghost , @wisteria-blooms ,

Let me come through with some Kazuha x reader

The first thing that you can think of is that he's pretty, he's always so pretty: perched on the crow's nest in the mid afternoon, after he's done with his tasks for the day, bandaged hand coming up to shield his eyes against the harshness of the sunlight, his own crimson eyes stubbornly stare at the horizon where the sun is slowly dissipating into the sea, sometimes you wonder what he's searching for. He's pretty in the early hours of the morning, when he greets you first, and only then everyone else aboard, with his messy ponytail swaying in the wind, rebellious locks of slivery hair framing his gentle face ever so softly as he smiles at you, and you wish you didn't focus so much on the way his eyes crinkle and shrink into crescents when he does so. You wish even more that the action alone wasn't enough to make you oh so painfully aware of the beating of your heart in your chest. He's pretty in the late evening, when the artificial light of the oil lamps is the only thing illuminating his features, so tenderly smoothing out the planes of his skin, it's such a harsh contrast with the teasing smile that he so easily offers you and the rest of the crew between wittily crafted lines of poetry and scalding, sarcastic remarks. His lips meet the edge of his cup, obscuring that smile from your view, and thank the Archons, but the cutting glint in his eyes stays, you dare say it takes on an even more piercing edge, you roll your own eyes at him and dismiss the feeling of your cheeks tingling and burning when you can still feel his unashamed gaze on you.

Kazuha's pretty, he's pretty, pretty, so pretty and graceful even when his blade is drawn and unforgiving wind follows his every move on the battlefield.

But now? Now Kazuha looks especially pretty under the silver tones of the moonlight, he looks especially pretty because he's sitting next to you by the bow of the Alcor, sailing away in the night, you swear you're not looking at him, but you can't help noticing how his pupils are still focusing on the horizon. What is he looking for? And maybe you already have your answer, but you'd rather discard it each time and ask yourself the question all over again.

"The wind is rather restless tonight." Kazuha ponders silently, yet his words hold firmness.

You resist the urge to turn around and look at him, to really look at him and let your eyes wander and roam, so you let yourself merely wonder what his profile might look in the moonlight as you meekly hum in agreement. He sighs at that.

There's not a wisp of wind tonight. The both of you know that.

The smell of summer is thick and coily in the air, so saturated that it bleeds in the night almost overwhelmingly so. Though you always enjoyed the feeling it brought, this time it's unusually stifling, but at least, it gives you a reason to ignore Kazuha's unspoken demand.

Kazuha is a person who values bluntness and honesty above everything else, you know, you've seen the way his eyebrows furrow in the most dignified of frowns whenever he's on duty to bargain with merchants for the good to stock before a long journey: said merchants take their sweet time roping him in courteous conversations in the vain hope to pluck some more money than it'd be fair. Oh, how much he hates that.

But Kazuha can be one big hypocrite himself, because the world will burn before he will give up his own ways to make you trip and stumble over his intricately woven musings himself. But you happen to be just as annoyingly stubborn as he is, in that subtle way that leaves no spoken argument but expectant silence.

"I can do this for the entire night Kazuha." you assert uncaringly, or that's you would like to say, you hate yourself for the tint of annoyance that manages to colour your voice. Kazuha sighs yet again, and this time you notice, with little sweet pride and the same amount of guilt, that it's out of exasperation.

"I did not lie, a storm is brewing in the horizon-" you don't even let him finish his sentence, it's too late- or too early, really, for you to deal with this shit "That's it, I'm going to bed-" he chuckles at that, but there's no humor in it, it doesn't make his chest rumble like when it bubbles out of genuineness "I thought you said you could deal with this for the entire night." he whispers teasingly, and though it doesn't have half of the strenght his usual mischievous voice holds, you'll take it. Archons, you'll take anything.

"With this? Yeah. Deal with you? That's out of question." he fakes a pained gasp at your rebuttal "You wound me, dove." you forcibly ignore the way your heart hums in response at his little nickname, like it knows, like it's answering a call of your own name. Instead, you swallow the words laying on the roof of your mouth, the sweetness and the reassurances, you swallow all of it down for the sour and bitter. But you forget that honey is thicker than acid, and when you swallow it down, it threatens to get stuck in your throat, seal your voice away with it too.

"Good." you finally manage, tune rough and trembling "Good. It might teach you to say what you mean." your words fade in the night as you speak them, a little too caustic. You don't mean them, you know, hell, he knows you don't mean them, because Kazuha always says what he means. But he humurs you, lets another chuckle escape those lips of his, you swear you're not looking at the way they move to accomodate the sound of his laughter, you swear, but you're not like Kazuha.

"And what do I mean exactly?" he questions you, the tone of his voice once inch away from amusement "You want to know why I'm troubled through the usage of very shitty storm metaphors." he hums "So you are troubled." Kazuha confirms in unspoken, yet so so loud, victory "Yes, now, will you leave me alone?" you see refusal written on his parted lips, ready to push you back, pick and pry for more, but Kazuha was never one to pry at all. He was never one to prod at a shattered mess of glass and pick and choose the pieces he wanted to his heart's content. So you watch as hesitation takes over the colour of his irises, and with the umpteenth sigh of the night, he nods his head in quiet acquiesce and turns his gaze back to the horizon.

It stings a little, his easy approval. Screw it, it's more than just a little. You think, of all of the times, why was it right now that Kazuha had to turn obedient to one's call but his own? But after all, how can you even complain when you're the one who's to blame, when you were the one to ask him to let go. Kazuha's always been awfully good at letting go after all.

Awful. That's what you should feel for your last thought, but you don't, the only feeling of guilt that creeps up your spine is the one that comes with the cynical realization that you don't feel guilty at all for what you thought.

Against your better judgement, you scoot even closer to him, your hand almost touching his bandaged one on the rough wooden surface, you feel the warmth that his body emanates, bask in it for a second too long. It's a silent apology, you think, one that you selfishly offer even though you never uttered those words out loud.

Another breathless sigh escapes Kazuha, and although you barely register his action, it does make you wonder why your companion keeps sighing like he's exhaling his damn soul.

Maybe he is. Maybe he wants to leave a piece of himself in something that's not promises of evermore, something that's not an 'if' or 'when' but a 'here' and 'now'.

It's lonely, you take note idly. It's an ugly feeling, one that you're accostumed to, but that doesn't make it any less ugly. Especially when you know you feel perfectly fine on your own, when loneliness and longing come knocking at the hollow of your bones only when you're in somebody's company. But this is the first time, it's the first time that your mouth fills with cotton and helplessness tugs at the chords of your soul when it's you and Kazuha.

You don't like it. You hate it.

You scoot even closer to him, teetering on touching, but not quite, you're not that presumptuous. And right there, you understand that your silent apology was never to Kazuha, but to yourself.

You gaze out at the horizon as well, and you find yourself wondering, wondering what would fill that hollow, what it would be like to give a name to what you feel when you're next to him, if that would be enough to make the constriction in your ribs feel good.

You wonder what it would be like to drop pretense, to forget that when you fall and scrape your knees it hurts, and remember that it burns so good too. Perhaps salvation would come with letting yourself be consumed, set ablaze in an all-encompassing flame that disembodies you and makes you one again just to breathe elation and destruction into you. Maybe it would still leave you breathless, like the cotton filling your lungs when Kazuha looks at you, maybe it would sate the craving.

"Dove?" Kazuha calls out softly, voice the slightest bit husky after not speaking for long. You don't answer immediately, noticing how now the nickname weights a little heavier on your shoulders, a little acrid in your heart. You scrunch up your nose in distaste, action that grants you a chuckle from Kazuha, the sound fading a little too soon in the undisturbed night.

Even then, it's still enough. Enough for you to feel it reverberating in your bones and leaving goosebumps on its wake, making your spine quiver as if it were his wandering fingers tracing routes across the skin of your back. You miss it.

So you wonder, perhaps it doesn't have to be like that, perhaps it doesn't have to burn until it bleeds. Perhaps the answer is gentle and unwavering like the ocean's horizon that Kazuha admires so much. Yes- you'd like him to look at you the same way he does with that. Waves that thrash whimsically, take away the shattered glass and bring it back mellowed out, you think, maybe then Kazuha would pick and pry in that heap of those tiny pieces, he would have the courage to pick and choose without leaving his fingers prickled and bleeding on jagged edges. In all tides there's a homecoming, unyielding stability admist precariousness that washes over you, soothing you in a balm of familiarity, it gently breaks you open and seeps into every crack and crevice.

You smile.

No, that wouldn't work. Kazuha wouldn't be afraid to cut his fingers on mere jagged edges, he would let the blood drip down his fingers and stain the glass until it stubbornly clinged at his nails, until he found what he was searching for.

The sky is painted in a watery blue hue, and you almost raise your arm to reach out and touch it, it looks like fresh paint. Oh- only then you realize, there's a faint ringing in your ears. You head is spinning like crazy, though the entire world seems unmoving. You hear a name being called, a voice firm and severe, but it's breaking open, desperation threatening to tear it apart from its very core. It's your name that they're calling.

Your eyes struggle to focus on the person in front of you, something in your mind is screaming in recognition, but your mind feels languorous and somnolent, and any semblance of lucidity seems to be slithering away from your grasp as you reach out.

A sharp pain in your chest forces a whimper out of you, and suddenly the figure in front of you appears in your eyes with appalling clarity.

"K- Kazuha?" he recoils at the sound of your voice, as if that alone was enough to burn him, his eyes look frantic, almost hysterical, he speaks of something, but you barely find any coherence in his words, brain too stuffy to make sense of what he says. Kazuha applies pressure on your chest, and suddenly you're lurching forward in a fit of painful coughs. The taste of blood fills your mouth.

Oh- oh, you remember. You were on the battlefield, fighting against the shogun's troops, guided by none other than Kujou Sara herself. And it was one of her own arrows that was now impaled in your chest. If your head stopped spinning for a second, maybe you'd laugh at how tragic this must look. You're no hero, no person guided by some fervent ideal of righteousness or following the patriotic ideal of freedom for the liberation of your nation. You're not particularly selfless either. You owe nothing to these people, nor to your conscience. No, perhaps your only fault is being quite a little too much of a nihilist for your own good.

Your own cruel mind points out in indisputable logic how you're just one of the many people laying bloody on the battlegrounds now, not more or less value than any of them. A selfish part of you however, holds onto Kazuha's sleeve tighter. Am I worth your tears?

The pain in your chest intensifies, the remains of electro energy the arrow was imbued with reverberating through your body. The tips of your fingers numb, limbs fall heavy, Kazuha's pleads trip down his lips, hasty like a prayer, but bitter like a curse.

Your heart is beating. It's beating so fast. And of course it always was, always is, but now you're acutely aware of it, of the thumping against your ribcage, and you want to feel it, feel it race even faster and feel your chest burn some more too. As the pain flushes in your abdomen, hums through your body, only one thought emerges through the haze of your mind. Can this be like scraped knees? Can this burn so good too?

How morbid. A broken laugh leaves your lips, Kazuha looks at you in madness, and you wonder, which one of you is the goner?

You reach your hand out, a feeble attempt to cup his cheek, Kazuha catches your trembling limb, brings it to his face with a desperation that is so unlike himself. And as the pain burns more and more, you hum in sudden understanding.

It feels just as exhilarating, and you know, deep in your mind you know, that it has nothing to do with the way Kazuha holds your hand like a lifeline.

Perhaps this is what it is.

Quelling in both venom and elixir. All demolition and all divination, it shoves you down to take the fall, but never lets the impact come. You stand afloat in anticipation: it leaves you stuttering and hesitating, can you hold onto it? How does something that barely exists fill the hollow in your bones and free your lungs from cotton?

It's not lonely anymore. You exhale softly, Kazuha holds his breath.

"So pretty." the you whisper in a hazy breath.

Kazuha doesn't know if you're talking about the sky or not.

.

.

This is more of a vent piece, I don't even know whether it's intelligible or not. I will probably regret posting this by tomorrow, but right now it's 2.30 in the morning and I have no filter.

(4:30 am) — you're bad for my health, yet I'm urs all the same.

kenma has had five heart attacks in the span of 4 hours. it's late—or, by your definition, "still quite early!" and he's not sure he'll be able to sleep properly for the next few days, and maybe it's because he's thinking of you.

he rubs at his eyes, fighting back the clutches of sleep as he stares, he always is staring, analyzing something, yet his mind feels completely blank at the sight of you.

your bed is cold, the effects of leaving your window just the slightest bit open finally taking a toll on you. cat-like eyes bore into you as you laugh, papers scattered throughout the room. your pen clicks as you topple over kenma, laughter heaving in your chest as you watch him whine and pull away.

"you smell like coffee." kenma complains, yet he pulls you closer into the crook of his neck anyways. you laugh against his skin, and it feels like that's all he can really hear, the remnants of caffeine in your system don't seem to wash away, your eyes wide open in contrast to his.

"are you going to sleep, ken?" and he doesn't think he can reply, blame it on sleep deprivation, or the fact you said ken so casually is his 6th heart attack for the night—morning.

"you're not, so .." kenma thinks for a moment, and no matter how much he wants to pass out, he doesn't want to fall asleep first, either. "i don't think so." a yawn slips past his lips, yet he makes no effort to close his eyes.

you can only smile, even if he can't see it. kenma's head is pounding, and he has no idea how he's going to make it till practice, but for once, everything slips his mind as he watches you slowly fall asleep against him, despite your claims of "resting your eyes" before getting back to work.

small whispers of goodnight, even if the sun is rising, because it's never a new day till you've both fallen asleep, he finally gives himself the freedom to rest.

you're bad for his health, and he's sure that the all nighters and everything about you that pulls at his heart will have side effects when he's 30, but as the sun rises, kenma's okay with being yours.

Hello, this is my first time asking but, can I request a Kazuha headcanon with gender neutral reader? I haven't thought of any scenerios though

hi !!

i made into a oneshot instead, i hope that's alright !! headcanon was kinda vague T_T

one order of an ice-cream coming right up ! i hope you enjoy it, and ty for ordering from quill’s dessert cafe 🍧

please reblog! it helps a lot :)

kazuha.

the sun has just begun to dip below the horizon, the last of its warm rays splashing gold hues across the pastel sky. a gentle summer breeze whistles softly, curling around you like a the familiar warmth of a hug from your lover. you're standing at the docks of liyue, gazing absently at the ships, or more specifically the crux, the magnificent fleet captained by none other than beidou, and also the fleet that your boyfriend, kazuha will be leaving on today.

the feeling of an arm wrapping around your waist jolts you out of your thoughts, and you tilt your head up to be met with kazuha's lips curved into a sad smile. you turn around, burying your head in his chest, unsure of how to convey what you're feeling. in the end you settle for asking, "do you really have to leave?" kazuha sighs, lifting your knuckles to kiss them, "i wish i didn't have to. but i don't want you to get hurt. if i stay here for too long, the inazuma guards might find me, and they might take you too."

you know he's right, but it doesn't make his departure ache any less. what's worse is that you don't know when he'll come back, or if he even will. the ocean obeys no one, not even the formidable captain beidou, and storms can wreck even the strongest of ships in a second by dashing them on razor sharp rocks or pulling them down into the darkest depths where they'll never be seen again. you're terrified that kazuha will just disappear, swallowed up by a monster of the sea.

kazuha rubs comforting circles on the small of your back as he nuzzles into your neck, inhaling your scent and memorising it to revisit while he's away. "oi, kaedehara! get over here, we're about to leave soon. captain's orders," a voice yells from aboard the ship, smashing through your quiet tryst. you're gripping onto kazuha's shirt, silently begging him not to leave, and his pale crimson eyes, almost the same colour as the coppery bloodstains on the floor he has seen from his time at inazuma, fill with longing. he wants so desperately to stay, but this is for the both of you and the future he wants to build with you someday.

"hey, look at me," he murmurs, caressing your cheek while you lean into his touch as your brain scrambles to ingrain this in your mind forever. parting really is such sweet sorrow, you idly think. kazuha peels your hand off his shirt and drops something into your open palm before folding your fingers to close on it, "take care of this for me, alright?" pressing a final kiss on your forehead, kazuha quickly boards the ship waiting for him, and you bid him goodbye with as much encouragement as you can muster.

"i love you!" you shout into the distance, cupping your hands around your mouth to amplify your volume. you imagine your boyfriend smiling as he hears it, and suddenly recall the item he slipped into your hands. unclasping your fingers, you glance downwards, only to be met with a single maple leaf, the same shade as the streak running through kazuha's snowy hair. you're more grateful than words can express for the simple gift which almost feels like a part of him left in your caring hands, and vow to keep it safe.

and as stars begin to blanket the navy quilt of the night sky, you offer up a prayer to the archons to protect kazuha, clutching the leaf to your heart.

quill speaks !

hi ! sorry for going so off the rails from what u requested, but i hope u still liked it :)

are u guys going to pull for kazuha or for klee?

i hope you enjoy your stay at quill’s dessert cafe, and do check out the menu if you'd like ! 🍭

© starglitterz 2021. do not repost or modify in any way.

can u write for kazuha where he uhhh kisses u IDK LOL

— kiss me, kiss you ;

kaedehara kazuha (with gn!reader)

kazuha thinks of kissing you often. more than any normal person would, anyway.

꒰꒰ warnings ... kissing? ꒱꒱

The first time Kazuha thinks of kissing you is when the crew of the Crux is up drinking late at night, talking about the type of person they'd kiss. Most of them are drunk and barely coherent, and he hides a smile with his sake cup.

A crewmate turns to him and asks him in a drunken slur who he'd like to kiss and, though he’s about to say that he sees no one in that way, his eyes drift over to you, where you are talking with Captain Beidou at the bow of the ship.

Your smile sends his heart in a gallop and he quickly downs his sake before telling them that he's going to bed, to the loud complaints of the crewmates. Kazuha passes by you on the way and you send him a good night, to which he only nods and rushes off without looking at you.

When he's alone in his small cabin, he buries his face in his hands, wondering why he had wanted to pull you to him and kiss you stupid when he had passed by you a little while ago.

The second time is when you're out in Liyue with him. You'd convinced Beidou to let you take him out for a while and told her that since it was night, no one would even take a second glance. The captain had agreed but had told you that if Kazuha got caught by anyone, she would hang you upside down from the gangplank.

Your eyes sparkle as you take in the lively Liyue as people bustle about and voices call out to sell their wares. He smiles at your apparent excitement and startles when you pull on his arm as your run through the crowd.

Your laughter sounds sweet to his ears and he has the urge to create a haiku dedicated to just your laugh. He wants to kiss you to see your laugh melt away as you focus on him and only him and —

Oh, he was doing it again. He was thinking about kissing you again, and Kazuha isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do with these feelings that bubble to the surface whenever he’s with you.

The third time is when he watches you sing when you’ve had a little too much to drink. You’re normally so steady and now you’re swaying from side to side, hiccuping as you warble the song.

When Kazuha thinks that you look like you’re about to throw yourself off the anchored ship, he takes a hold of you by the waist and drags you to your cabin. You smile drunkenly and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up to nearly eye level with him.

Your breath smells like alcohol, he notes, and your normal full-mouthed smile is replaced with a sleepy smile. He has never seen you like this before but he admits that it is, in a way, cute.

He lays you down on your bed but you don’t have any intention of letting go of him. If anything, your arms grow tighter around his neck, which forces his face closer to yours.

He makes eye contact with you and he swears his heart is ready to jump right out of his chest. For all his poetic words, he has no idea what he should say.

He wants to kiss you bad enough that he’s ready to throw his inhibitions away and just do it, damn the consequences but —

He sighs, and gently pries your arms away from him and tucks you into your bed. You’re already half asleep when he stands up and walks to your door. But Kazuha doesn’t miss the quietly mumbled ‘thank you’ as he leaves your room.

Not long after that day, a skirmish with another pirate ship breaks out unexpectedly. He’s busy fighting off a few guys on his own that he doesn’t notice you fighting on the higher part of the Crux.

Your opponent backs you to the edge of the platform and your foot slips, leading to you falling right on your hand. Kazuha catches your string of curses as he finishes off his opponents and his eyes widen when he sees you fallen.

He runs over to you and helps you sit up, asking you if you’re alright. You nod but wince when you try to move your hand. More opponents flood in and attempt to attack you but one glare from him sends them scurrying off with their tails between their legs.

The battle ends in the Crux’s victory but Kazuha is too busy treating your hand to even let out a smile. He ties the bandage gently and you smile at him brightly when he’s done.

But he doesn’t let go of your hand, and you’re surprised. You call his name and without a warning, he pulls you closer to him by your waist and presses his lips to yours.

A gasp leaves your mouth but he’s insistent and holds you in the kiss for a few more moments before pulling away, covering the lower half of his face with his arm.

You touch your lips and you feel yourself getting warmer and warmer. You bury your face into your hands, feeling embarrassed and yet happy.

Little do you know that the entire crew of the Crux had been a spectator to Kazuha’s little show and had sighed in relief that the blond had finally gathered the courage to kiss you.

notes this is very very very um questionable? but i wanted to write this for u <3 this is kinda like 3 times he thinks of kissing u + the 1 time he actually does ? that's what came to mind when i saw this ask so yeah SDJSD i hope u like it bae !!

01. COME BACK TO ME… ALiVE.

     |     kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader.      |     all you wanted from him was one single      |     thing: to come back from inazuma alive.

✎.. warnings → none. 

As he had peered upon his most beloved, Kazuha’s gaze was as gentle as the silence which had enveloped them. Crimson hues narrowing into an expression of comfort and adoration, a face that he had worn most often in your presence.

For in his line of sight, your profile spying back at him was all that he could see. The mesmerizing azure of Liyue’s vast ocean separating himself and his home nation, and the distant outlines of aged mountains of rock presenting themselves as your background had gone by completely unnoticed by him. His full, undivided attention had been gifted to you, and you alone. In the last few minutes before a lengthy, possibly dangerous departure to Inazuma, he would have it no other way.

His ears had accordingly blocked out all noise of the Crux fleet’s shouting in the near distance behind him, per his wishes to memorise each and every subtle detail in your expression without distraction. But for you, the various shouts of the men and women on that ship were all you could hear, and they did little to ease you of the gloomy pit of worry which had been rendering you heavy for the last few hours.

The amount of details that Kazuha had hidden from his stories were few, and so you were well-versed in the dangerous state of present day Inazuma. The famous death of his old friend, and his current title as wanted fugitive, there was just so much which could go wrong during this journey.

Tilting your gaze down, you had reached to grasp both of his hands in your own. Holding them tenderly, as if you were attempting to convey your complex mix of emotions to him through them.

“Kazuha, I…” you trailed off, becoming a little too conscious of the abundance of noise surrounding you both. Could you be getting overwhelmed?

The more you had attempted to think of a way to continue, the farther your expression had proceeded to drop. Faltering more and more, completely betraying your inner promise to try and hide it. Of course, the man standing opposite you had definitely noticed it. For his gaze upon you was observant enough to pick out even the slightest of negativity.

You had felt as his hands had slowly moved so that he, instead, was the one holding yours, as opposed to you previously holding his. The gentleness of his hands were felt even through the bandages which sheltered one of them. Eyes closing into the most comforting smile so that you could not see the determination which had set his eyes aflame. In a movement too fast, he lifted your hands up to his face, planting a single, brisk kiss to the first place he could.

“Long before news of my deeds in Inazuma have travelled over these stormy seas, my love, I will be back here by your side. Please do not concern yourself with my safety, for yours should be the only thing on your mind. You trust me, no?”

As his eyes opened again, you found your words. Barely.

“Of course I do,” your hold on his hands had tightened slightly. “Of course I trust you. Just… just make sure you stick to your word. Come back to me. Alive, okay? Alive and safe, that is all I ask.” 

This time, he had not concealed the determination which had flickered in his gaze. He had allowed his expression to display his passion, his insuppressible motivation to ensure that he makes it back to you no matter what.

“I promise.”

summary: childe is a name so acquainted with calamity that even you cannot escape it. he wishes you could.

warnings: second archon quest spoilers, heavy angst, toxic relationships, intentional lowercase lol

childe knows you’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you too. he knows because the way your face crumbles when he rejects your love confession makes him want to disappear. childe doesn’t even really belong to himself anymore; if he did, he would choose you in a heartbeat. but his heartbeat is tied to another’s, and that heartbeat is intertwined with the inherent power he possesses, the one he can use to keep you safe.

he tells you he’s sorry, and he means it. he’s sorry he hadn’t met you earlier, because then maybe he’d be just a bit freer, a bit more able to love you the way you deserve.

but he’s selfish, and he couldn’t let you go if he tried, so he keeps you by his side as much as he can. we’re just friends, he tells himself, friends can do these kinds of things. friends don’t look at each other the way you two do, though, and everyone else can tell.

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summary: uni student childe who isn’t dating you yet, but he might as well be with how in love with you he is. he practically loses his mind at every little thing you do, and even a simple text is enough to get his heart pounding.

genre/warnings: fem!reader, drabble, fluff/humor, porn mention because scara is a menace, i literally just guessed on who i think childe’s uni friend group would be lmao

childe: how’s my girl doing today

y/n: i’m okay :) dogsitting for ganyu but the dog’s bark sounds hilarious

1 new voice message

Childe’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest. If he had any less self control, he might have squealed like a little girl right then and there. Of course, there was also the issue that he was currently in public, having lunch on the quad with his chattering friends.

“Can you guys shut the hell up for a second?” he hisses, holding his phone to his ear. Diluc and Kaeya share a bewildered look, their conversation tapering out along with everyone else’s.

“Oh, sorry, Childe, us background characters were just talking. Don’t let us interrupt your scene.” Scaramouche sneers with a roll of his eyes, flicking a straw wrapper at Childe’s face. It hits his forehead dead on, and Diluc winces, waiting for his friend to blow up.

Except he doesn’t. In fact, it’s like he doesn’t even notice.

The whole table watches with rapt attention as Childe listens intently to whatever is playing on his phone, a wide smile growing on his face with each passing second. Then, just when it seems like he’s done and the silence will end, he taps at his screen and plays it again, still beaming.

It takes a few moments until anyone has half a mind to say anything. Zhongli tries first, gently tapping him on the shoulder.

“Childe?”

A bit too late, he blinks like he’s just been broken out of a trance. His eyes snap around the table quickly, suddenly realizing that everyone is staring at him.

“Huh? Were you saying something?”

Diluc cranes his neck, trying to get a peek at whatever Childe was so invested in. “What were you listening to? Some kind of podcast?”

At that, Childe’s face flushes a light pink, and he makes a half-hearted attempt to hide his phone. “Oh, it’s nothing.”

Scaramouche raises a brow, taking another bite of his food. “Doesn’t look like nothing. What are you blushing for? Were you listening to porn or something?”

“What the hell? No!” Childe spits, gauging the disgusted looks of everyone else sitting around the table. A few of them look like they might actually be considering Scaramouche’s accusation. Signora subtly glances under the table, and Childe looks genuinely horrified. “It wasn’t porn!”

“Then what was it?” 

The stares of his friends grow more and more pressing, and he clenches his fists. Realistically, it would be much less scandalous for him to tell them the truth than to let them think he’s some sort of sex freak who listens to porn audios in public spaces.

“Itwasherlaughingwithadog,” he rushes out, slamming both hands on the table with a tone of finality. “Anyway, anyone have any fun plans this weekend? I heard there’s gonna be some great parties.”

Signora holds her hands out in a ‘time-out’ gesture, clearly not finished pressing for answers. “How about you repeat that, but slower.”

There’s a round of nods at her request, and Childe feels like sinking into the ground and never returning. 

“She’s dogsitting for her friend today, and she said the dog had a funny-sounding bark, so she recorded it,” he explains, feeling more and more humiliated with each syllable. “And she just so happened to be laughing in the message too.”

Scaramouche grins like he’s just been delivered the best news he’s ever heard in his life. “So were you getting all smiley over the dog bark, or was it the sound of her laugh that did it for you?”

“I don’t have to explain shit to you.”

Kaeya bursts into a laugh, one he poorly attempts to mask behind his fist. “Oh, oh my god. This is too good.”

“Can we hear it?”

Childe pouts. “No,” he says, a bit too quickly to be natural.

“What, are you gatekeeping her laugh?”

“She sent it to me,” he defends, uncaring of the judgmental looks they shoot his way, “so it’s for me to listen to.”

baseball

pairing: inumaki toge x gn!reader

the crack of impact rings in your ears as you watch him drop the bat and swiftly make it on base. you weren’t sure how to feel about the results of the goodwill event being settled with a baseball game, but seeing the way everyone is letting loose and enjoying themselves instantly changes your mind. not to mention, getting to see your boyfriend in action is a real treat.

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hii can you please do mona comforting the reader after a panic attack? or just generally comforting them if you're uncomfy with this kinda stuff!! thank you

milf (mona i'd like to f)

before reading: panic attacks, under cut for sensitive topic 

“Mona, we’re lost.” 

“No, we’re not!” 

“I swear we’ve passed this tree three times now.”

Mona glanced up from her hands, where her usual usual constellation chart was  now a makeshift map of Teyvat. You were crossing your arms, more than annoyed at your partner right now. It was her idea to travel across the country for a week to find new star patterns and you had tagged along. For someone so in tune with the sky, Mona had gotten you lost almost immediately. 

“How difficult is it to find our way out of this forest?” Mona questioned, peering down at her map again. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” You grumbled. The sun was starting to set and the thought about being lost in the woods in the middle of the night sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Perhaps we should just go back the way we came,” Mona continued, “Do you know which way we came?” 

You shook your head. 

For a while, you dragged your feet behind Mona in silence. She had taken off her hat and swiped a strip of sweat off her forehead. You nearly tripped on an overgrown root and when Mona turned to catch your arm, you pulled it away and glared at her. All you wanted was to be inside your cool house right now. 

Mona said something but you weren’t listening. A bug flew dangerously close to your ear and your feet were beginning to ache from your improper shoes. 

“Listen!” You finally snapped, “Why don’t we split up? We’ll look around and see if anything looks familiar, okay?” 

Mona nodded without a word and you took off in the opposite direction from her. It was only five minutes in when you deeply regretted your decision to split up. Every tree looked the same and it felt like you were stuck in the middle of tall, wooden walls. 

You finally took a break to sit down. Your back slid against the trunk of a thick tree and you let out a sigh of relief. The feeling only lasted for a moment, though, before your mind began to wander again. Darkness was approaching quickly. What was hiding in these woods? 

It felt like the air was growing thick around you and without realizing, your breathing quickened. 

“Mona...” The name tumbled from your lips quietly and when you remembered you were in a forest, you yelled louder. “Mona!”

When you got no response, you looked down at your lap and accepted your fate. Hot tears started to fill your eyes and you pulled your knees to your chest. If you hadn’t gotten annoyed and ran off, none of this would be happening. 

You didn’t even see Mona when the woman came hurdling towards you. “Y/N!” She cried out, thinking you were hurt at you. When she saw your quivering form, she immediately bent down. 

“Mona...” You whispered again, finally looking up and meeting her eyes. 

“Just breathe,” She said quietly, “We will get out of here.” 

She knows how to handle your constant panic attacks. She’s done it so many times now but it doesn’t make it any easier to look at you in that state. It hurts her to see you hurting. 

Mona cradles your face in her hands, trying to peer into your eyes and analyze your situation. After a moment, your breathing begins to even out and Mona sighs. She’s rubbing your shoulder comfortingly and sits back on her feet, giving you some space. 

When she’s sure you’ve calmed down, Mona helps you onto your feet. “We can follow the North Star back to Mondstadt,” She says, pointing a finger at a bright star in the sky, “Once we see Orion, we’re home.” 

You nod and trail behind Mona. You feel bad still and offer to hold her hat for her. Mona seems to notice and frowns, looking over her shoulder. “I’m sorry, darling,” She says quietly, “I’ll make it up to you.” 

“You owe me a Sweet Madam.” 

Mona hesitates at the thought of spending mora she doesn’t have but nods anyways, “Anything for you.” 

IN THE WINDS OF TIME, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA 🍃

“those eyes used to know me, it’s been way too long. you are the moon and the stars and all i gaze upon, time won’t ever move slowly, what are you waiting on? say the word and i’ll be yours, you know i never forgot.” full playlist.

note: i know some of you are definitely thinking, oh god she's back again. and yeah!! finally!! dedicated to my good friend aka kazuha's wife @kazuharem !!!! i’m so glad to have been here to celebrate such a huge birthday milestone with you, and i hope life takes you in only good directions from here on out <3 elaina my beloved i hope you enjoy this very belated gift!!! i said i’d write your obituary here, but maybe i’ll leave it for the end so you get a proper send-off hm? additionally, i just want to preface that most of this was written before i actually did the archon quest, so some minor details are incorrect in canon, but don’t affect the story at all :)

synopsis: kazuha is the freest soul you have ever known — parts of him linger in the breeze, in the warm air and flowing waters of inazuma alike. but tied together once as friends, your relationship had turned sour upon the dire event of his friend’s death at the shogun’s hands. years later, you are stuck under the shogun’s jurisdiction in a job you once thought would give you a second chance; a position where your oldest and dearest friend is supposed to be the enemy. yet, as quickly as things had initially changed, your life flips on its head the moment the fatui are involved in the century-old conflict. holding information that could save thousands, it’s up to you whether you’d like to keep your position amongst the country’s elites, or find your way back to the side of the man who had once offered you the world.

warnings: pls set aside time for this monstrosity, a lil bit of the misunderstanding trope, friends to enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, descriptions of a wound to the chest, happy ending :D<3

word count: 21,000

in the past, when the maple leaves first began to pick up on the battlefield, it had only ever been instinctual to turn your head the other way. no one questioned how the superficial breeze never reached you, comrades never realised that the chance to pick crimson leaves from your hair always seemed to escape them. it’s as if there was a discrete force constantly shielding you from it — but, the answer has always been far more simple than that.

the man who travelled with the wind would never harm you.

distinct blazing eyes caught yours under the ocean blue sky. his footwork was light and intricately wrapped in the small blades of wind, silhouette lost in the blinding light of the midsummer sun.

you were only a newly-ranked general at that time, likely not even on the resistance’s radar yet -- but the sight of kazuha sent both nerves and a painful ache shooting through your chest.

you remember hesitantly ordering a retreat, fighting back a scoff. kazuha had no doubt planned to make quick work of the soldiers from the beginning — but seeing your face must have spurred him to trample the visionless soldiers like bugs.

he had wanted to show you what he was capable of.

it had been the same wretched cycle since the day you’d chased him from your life for good — a stray gaze. an empty threat. anonymous letters between the months. with one mistake, what used to be a smooth friendship easily twisted into strained alliance.

but neither grudge nor duty is enough to erase the past. no matter the kind of resentment he feels towards you, he is just as unable to harm you as you are him. the odds are against both of you in a complicated dance wherein you cannot touch, wherein he is still the same unfortunate boy he was all those years ago; just as you are still the same unlucky girl.

but that had been almost nine months ago, one of the last times you’d seen kazuha in the flesh. despite yourself, you still find yourself hoping on sleepless nights that he has somehow turned his life into something he can be proud of.

it had been a great shock to see the kaedehara family fall. occasionally, you think that it may have been only a pipeline that has gotten kazuha to the status of a fugitive -- but you had seen him that day, running from the horrific scene painting the tenshukaku. he is guilty only by association.

the sun falls quickly over inazuma city that night; the place where it had all begun.

in the middle of making your routine walk to the precinct of the shogun’s abode, you have the misfortune of coming upon kujou sara doing the same.

the raiden’s bloodhound is among the most resilient of the shogunate’s underlings, and it is hard to keep your thoughts from her more often than not. being someone with blurry convictions, her watchful eyes on you are constant.

as you attempt to brisk past her, she falls into step beside you.

“good afternoon,” she greets you kindly, though pointedly does not use your proper title. “I hope the day has treated you well so far?”

you force a polite smile— the very same you offer uncooperative diplomats. “yes, thank you. i hope the same of you.”

kujou sara nods, conversation dissolving into the sound of heels on stone. at the very least, you admire her agility in the geto sandals she is never seen without. to manage to flawlessly keep up appearances even when carrying out duties is an enviable thing. but, that tends to be the extent of your jealousy. you have nothing more to grasp from a woman of such governmental wiles.

“we are a team, that is indisputable.” she says suddenly, continuing to look forward even as you turn your head. “but during this conference, i will be the sole member contributing to the conversation.”

her abrupt order strikes you where it hurts. kujou sara’s dislike for you as her partner is deep-rooted, though you had never expected her to hold you back so blatantly. perhaps it is out of good faith, perhaps it is a jab, but in either scenario, it is disgustingly fortunate.

very few members of the inazuman council are ignorant of your past relations to a certain fugitive in the sangonomiyan resistance. to call a conference to deal with the assent of the rebels is no small issue in anyone’s mind, but it is risky for you to speak on most issues concerning it.

you push down a grumble as you nod. though you are only one of the generals by title, making an attendance at the logistical conference is at the very least necessary. certain days you suspect that you walk on a tightrope before the rest of the higher-ups, one mistake away from being shipped back out to the fishing island you grew up on.

but you are intent on keeping today from being one of them.

“i thank you all for appearing this evening.” the leader of the raiden shogun’s regime stands before a long pine table some minutes later, nodding indiscriminately to the small group that occupies the tatami mats. hot tea had since been placed in front of you at your arrival -- a stout cup of sencha warms nearly everyone’s hands. “it was certainly a lot to ask you all here as of recent events, but i believe that to fix this issue, going to the heart as fast as possible may be the only way we persevere.”

quiet murmurs run amongst the familiar faces. you frown.

“i will get started immediately, then.”

when the woman turns around to begin her proposal, you dip your head. nothing she says is anything you want to hear. so, despite the obvious stares you feel boring into you, you continue to count the stray leaves in your tea, along with the seconds that pass in your silence.

“if there is a chance to catch them in a place they aren’t expecting it, this would be the optimal route to take.”

the words pull you out of a daze as your brows tighten.

“you seem awfully excited for this plan, general ___. would you care to give your insight?”

your eyes whip to your partner beside you, backed by rage and formidable confusion. kujou sara knows exactly what kind of person you are, and exactly how to push you in the directions you will twist and turn the most.

when you don’t reply, a tinge of a smile peeks at the corner of her lips.

“your lineage is pure, but your mind is far from it.”

taking a deep breath, you face her with the air you are meant to conquer with -- the you that forced you away from your best friend, but had been the sole solidifier of your modern life.

“on the contrary, my mind is the reason i’m sitting here.” you remind her. “can you say the same?”

but the you that has solidified your modern life is nothing more than a rotten liar.

when your mind goes to the hydro vision in the locket on your neck, you associate it with not the ceaseless hunt for visions in inazuma, but the people who fight to make sure that you are able to keep it. the vision hunt decree may have been easy for no one, but it was harder for you — being forced to choose your side so quickly, so haphazardly, it very well could have meant the end of your life.

the reason that you are reluctant to provide the resistance with criticism is because you agree with them; you agree with him. you had always agreed with kazuha, but it had been the split second decision to hide your support that had driven a wedge so deep between you.

you hadn’t been in contact since you’d left ritou on the announcement that you were joining the shogun’s army -- but back then, it hadn’t meant anything. kazuha was merely a wanderer. a dear friend’s position in life meant little to him, so long as he could see you every so often.

musou no hitotachi is a powerful weapon, tales of it woven in folklore and urban legends alike. no mortal had laid eyes upon it in the last century, making it a weapon of high reverence, and even higher anticipation. you had never known the man in red that appeared on the shogun’s doorstep that day, demanding an audience with the archon. but knowing his fate, you are glad that he remains a stranger.

you were to do nothing but stand there, watch as a new recruit while he subjected himself to something no one has ever come out of alive. even now, you need to remind yourself that there is nothing you could have done to change the outcome -- but the glint in his eyes is something that you will never forget.

though, even with all of those variables, it was kazuha’s sudden appearance that had taken you off guard the most. you hadn’t expected to see him so soon after you’d bid him farewell, most of all not jumping in to snatch the man’s dying vision.

the shogun’s body had barely acknowledged his presence, however, the careful turn of her gaze had suggested she was staring right at him. kazuha was gone as quick as he had come, running where not even a god could follow -- yet where another person very well could.

an elegant outstretched hand suddenly signalled you in his direction. terrified, you remember the exact moment the shogun’s eyes met yours for the first time, as if daring you to question her. your breath hitched.

stiff legs had taken you in the direction kazuha had run off, faster than you’d ever ran before into the haze of the midsummer evening.

it was not hard to discern the alleyways he’d ducked into. kazuha had unintentionally left a silent trail that only you could recognise, a mix of wind and sweet scents that drove your mind half crazy. ducking under the low-hanging balconies, you caught sight of a flash of red and skidded to a sudden stop.

kazuha was breathing hard at the end of the alley, chest rising and falling in a gruesome manner as he stared up at the ledge of the wall. you were in a similar state, forced to take small steps towards him even as his friend’s dead vision dropped in the dirt.

he could easily get away. kazuha’s anemo vision has always been a thousand times more practical than yours. yet, even so, he levelled the playing ground himself.

“did you lead me here on purpose?” you asked quietly, stomach curdling as he still refused to physically acknowledge you. his adam’s apple bobbed.

“kazuha?”

his head whipped to yours with inane speed, teeth gritted. “what about you? are you here to arrest me?”

“i… don’t know. she told me to follow you but i-” you cut yourself off, unaware of the way his eyes softened. “kazuha, what’s going on?”

kazuha’s attention lingered on you for a few heavy moments before a sigh tumbled from his mouth. impromptuly, he came closer to you, running a stray hand through his hair. your shoulders relaxed at the familiar trust he placed in you.

“my friend, he had a foolish proposition, and i never thought he would honour the promise, but-” he choked slightly on his words as his attention met the bleak vision on the ground, hand dropping from his head. “he left this morning without saying a word.”

kazuha nodded along to his own story as he took in a deep breath, exhaling unsteadily. “he was already dead when i arrived.”

your eyes shut as a frown took over your features. “i’m sorry. i should have tried harder to stop the shogun. maybe then-”

“and make me lose two people?” he shook his head, taking your hands in his with a pleading look in his eye. it caught you off guard. “no, never go against her. please, ___. promise me.”

“i-” a surprised laugh escaped you. “i don’t have much of a choice. she’s my superior now, kazuha.”

the reminder is a grim one for him as he lets go of your hands, a frown steadily coming to his lips.

“then-” the frown persisted, as if it was a manifestation of the mess of thoughts whirling through his head. “why don’t you come with me? they would say i took you, and we could figure this out together. just like we always have.”

you remember kazuha’s offer stopping you clearly. you could witness the world together, living off of wild fish and fruit, being forever free of the shogun’s iron clutches -- it sounded like a perfect deal, and with everything in you, you wanted to say yes.

“i.. i’m sorry. but i don’t know if that’s a good choice.”

why didn’t you say yes?

you hew the memory, forcing down a grimace.

“either way,” you lament, turning a conceding eye on your partner. “we are both here because we are capable somehow.”

kujou sara’s eyes narrow almost implicitly, as if to warn you for a future conversation. the council members around you don’t seem extremely invested in your one-sided rivalry. often, this is how chunks of meetings tend to go; sara acting as if she is still on the front, and you redirecting the blows elsewhere.

there is no doubt in either of your minds that it is a closed interaction, not affected by anyone else, but even you can recognise when it is too much for those around you. “though, i wouldn’t say excited. i have no opinion on this plan in particular.”

you maintain a straight face even though everyone can see through the lie.

resigned to listening to the rest of the meeting dawdle on, you drown out your colleague’s voices in favour of the void that occupies your mind.

the first breath of fresh air that enters your lungs that night afterwards is almost therapeutic— no longer are you pinned between duty and heart, but your time spent outside of it is still unfortunately limited. the moon hangs high in the sky as you walk back to your place for the night. inevitably, you pass the same alleyway from your earlier thoughts.

your lips twist in thought.

the shock on kazuha’s expression after you’d told him your verdict is something that you will never forget. with all of his heart, he has always been understanding, but something about your rejection must have scratched him deep — because as your stomach plummeted, he let out a shuddering sigh.

“why not?” he asked, adam’s apple bobbing. “what’s so important that you can’t leave behind? the shogun?”

“kazuha, that’s not fair. as much as i want to, i finally have a stable job, and a future to look forward to. i can’t give that up just for one person and a chance.”

his lips thinned, eyes shooting back and forth before landing regretfully on you. “forgive me. but it’s not just one person, it’s me.”

your lips parted, a processing look flooding your eyes.

“kazuha. i will always be with you, but i can’t just pick up and leave!”

“why not?!” kazuha gestured his hand, shaking his head. he was certainly blinded by something that night, something so important that it overtook his better judgement. “what if i lo-“

he cut himself off with a grunt.

“what if you what?” you repeated, taking a step forward. “if you have a reason for me to come, let me hear it. it’s pointless to continue if you won’t say it.”

kazuha was silent.

“i get that you’re angry.” you looked away, lips twisted as a bitter feeling piped in your gut. “but it’s not my fault your friend decided to walk into death by the shogun’s hand. you can handle one other thing not going your way.”

presently, a light breeze takes your hair as the memory comes to an end. if you concentrate hard enough, you can almost perfectly recall the feeling of his shoulder brushing against yours as he moved to leave. for years, that night was the last time you’d seen him.

a biting sensation envelops your head every time you think about the hurtful words you’d let yourself say in the heat of the moment.

your eyes trail down to the uniform over your chest, the signature violetgrass purple colour of the shogunate’s army — and the symbol of those who have always been the enemy.

clutching a hand to the fabric, you sigh.

“what am i doing?”

you mumble, eyes trailing down into the barren alleyway. any words you could have said are lost in the winds of the past, conceivably just as your dear friend has always been.

shrugging off your jacket with the shogunate’s emblem imprinted on it, shaky hands tie it around your waist. you’ve regretted the words you said that day a thousand times, yet when you have reminisced in the past, no reaction has been quite as monumental as this.

perhaps your life has always been an anomaly.

a part of your old reasoning still rings true: it would be difficult to change most things about your present life without outright deserting all you know. yet, in this moment, all you want to do is just that.

suddenly, you let out a hiss, hand flying to the locket that holds your vision. it burns to the touch. without thinking, you consider ripping the chain, but with a grumble, you just pull your jacket back up.

the archons are laughing at you from somewhere in teyvat, and it disgusts you.

days pass as the idea ferments in your head. but as the whirlwind of preparations being made continues to grow larger, it gets more and more difficult to hide your displeasure.

one night you are left to your own devices completely, not needed anywhere and not expecting anyone on your doorstep. it is the first time you have let yourself become completely alone with your thoughts since the shogun regime’s presentation.

a split second idea turns into a walk. a walk turns into grabbing your bag on the way out, containing everything you couldn’t bear to part with. in the deepest part of your mind, your intentions are clear. but, the nerves that occupy your heart are keen on continuing the ruse.

quick steps bring you to the main street of inazuma city. shops and people alike bustle in the streets around you, perfectly masking your appearance — until suddenly, a light hand rests on your shoulder.

you turn to meet the apprehensive eyes of a semi-familiar guard as he retracts his hand quickly. a nervous laugh escapes him.

“my apologies ma'am, you were not responding to your name.” his bows his head slightly, and your brows furrow. “general, ms. sara is requesting your attention.”

your eyes widen a fraction. “now?”

he nods, gaze politely turned from the bag over your shoulder. “yes. she is waiting at a spot nearby uyuu restaurant.”

lips thinning, you thank him and take off in the opposite direction. steps now heavy with a different purpose, you see kujou sara almost immediately after stepping within the vicinity.

her work clothes have been abandoned in favour of a more casual getup, comprised of solid colour clothing accessorised only by the red tengu mask on her head. something in your chest curls as your body moves forward robotically. she must not be expecting you on official business, or else she would still be in formal attire — but a kujou sara wanting to meet off-duty is much more frightening than the normal alternative.

you push the bag over your shoulder to hide behind your back as you sit across from her.

“sara,” you greet with a polite smile. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

she mirrors the smile, expression relieved. kujou sara is truly a different person when the weight of the shogun’s approval is lifted from her shoulders.

“i apologise for calling you out so suddenly. I assume you were in the area?”

you nod, subconsciously tucking your bag further behind you. she pays no mind to it.

“yes, i was out attempting to run errands.” you lie. “though, please do not worry, this meeting is of no inconvenience.”

“i’m glad.” she says this, but the words seem oddly ornamental. then, as if on cue, she casts a sidelong glance before leaning forward.

“i need your assistance with something of utmost importance, are you able to spare a few longer minutes?”

curiously flickers in your thoughts, as if mimicking the fast birth of a flame. you nod mindlessly.

kujou sara takes in a breath before continuing again; “it’s about the rebels.”

you bite back a frown. it seems they will never let down on their duty to be a reminder of your mistakes.

“go on.”

truthfully, it is hard to focus on your partner’s words. she is concise and thorough in her explanations, detailing each problem and each solution she has deemed necessary. but in your head, all you can focus on is the fact that the sangonomiyan rebels are beginning to win. they are taking back parts of inazuma one at a time, slowly but surely.

“our initial plans may not hold water any longer.” she explains, and you snap to attention. “so, i have elected to take matters into my own hands.”

your brows raise quizzically. “your own-?”

“you must know this:” your partner interrupts. “i am unable to give specific details at the moment. but i’ll need your help with the allies i plan to contact when the opportunity arrives.”

sighing, you shrug. “i can’t make any promises, but… i will try my best to lend you a hand.”

kujou sara leaves first, speaking of other arrangements and responsibilities to take care of. yet, it all seems to bounce off of you. the bag behind you cuts like a knife into your skin, a sharp reminder of the plans you had been on your way to enacting. would it be fair to leave now? to arrive at the rebel camp and make friends, only to have them potentially swept away by whatever plan of kujou sara’s you didn’t stick around to hear?

you frown as you sweep around the cup of water a waitress has since sat down in front of you. the crowd bustles around you as a gentle wind takes through the streets, carrying the scent of blooming petals and flowing waters -- a peaceful stagnance that you suspect will last even through the most tumultuous of inazuma’s conflicts. human lives are but fleeting specks in the winds of time. comparable even to the atoms that float through the breeze, each one is small but mighty. and you cannot give up a single one, no matter how seemingly insignificant.

the decision is made as you swing your bag over your shoulder, leaving not a trace behind at the scene.

as night falls not much later, you are left to stare at your belongings that peek out of the bag. it sits away from your reach, discarded haphazardly on the floor as if you mean to return to it.

i do, you remind yourself. if you are to seek shelter with the sangonomiyan rebels, you must at least bring a gift.

however, this gift is one that needs time to develop. there are days wherein you hear nothing but tidbits from your partner, whispers about making progress or woes on how much she looks forward to the plan being complete. as time goes on, though, you are only more apprehensive to the strategy kujou sara plans to cook up. certain details are concerning, and you are never able to piece together a full picture.

an unwelcome surprise is a particular letter that had arrived one morning, handed off directly to you. it is somehow signed delicately yet thoughtlessly — though anonymous, it is infuriatingly in character for the wandering ronin. you resign to leave it unopened, stressed by the timing of it.

during the long nights, you wonder if some deep part of kazuha’s intuition expects you. or, perhaps he has always anticipated an eventual breakdown. for now, you can’t be too sure.

and at the seemingly snail-like pace kujou sara is coming along, you occasionally doubt you ever will be.

until almost two weeks later, when kujou sara pulls you aside. there’s an odd glint to her eyes that evening that sets your nerves alight almost immediately. but alongside the anticipation that plagues you, you can’t help her excitement that rubs off on you.

however, it’s extinguished quickly.

the soft summer wind whips against your face later that night as you make your escape. you have done so many things wrong in your life, catered to so many lies and regretted so many decisions — and maybe you don’t deserve the luxury of feeling that regret. but if you aren’t able to meet the resistance in time, the human in you will beg for forgiveness at the feet of anyone who will let go of the time you have lived unaware of your partner’s plans for them.

the fatui. you grimace as her words come back to mind. the crooked diplomats are no strangers to you, and their willingness to help with such a devious plot is of little surprise. the real surprise, however, had been sara’s own excitement for the sinister plan; whether blinded by the shogun’s wishes or something otherwise greater.

delusions are monstrosities that seep through a person’s bones, draining any driving force in favour of the weapon’s potential -- to wipe an enemy out from the inside is not necessarily a bad strategy, but to resort to such cruel measures? you have only heard of the harbingers using the weapons in action, namely woven in the tales of the famed traveller that seems to be traversing the lands. but you have never had the misfortune of coming upon one yourself.

it is one of the most inhuman strikes to make on an enemy that you could have imagined.

dread settles deep within your chest, and with everything in you, you truly wish that kazuha was not as far away as he is. perhaps then it’d be easier to contact him. but no amount of ‘maybe’s or ‘what-if’s can change the past. in this moment, you are to rely on only yourself to get where you need to be.

your sandaled feet hit the pavement hard, sending shots of pain up your calves and into the brace of your knees. the outskirts of inauma city are less densely populated, normally marked by a few straggling farmers here and there. but the sudden increase in guards only adds sweat to your brows. the optimistic part of you hopes that no one has caught wind of your plans yet, but the smart one knows that kujou sara is adept at what she does -- if it is up to her, you will not leave the island alive.

“stop!”

as if on cue, familiar shouts ring out behind you. you don’t dare to turn your head even as your lungs begin to burn. when the footsteps sound crushingly near, your hand reaches around haphazardly to the weapon on your back -- a long navy blue polearm, delicately engraved with the ocean’s waves.

it’s ironic, you think, as you come full circle. you point the weapon your enemy had carved by hand for you at the people you’d once regarded as something you could never leave behind. you may not have a place amongst anyone any longer, but the anonymous letter you’d discarded in your bag gives you hope regardless.

because no matter who your enemies are, there is still one person you can hope will see you for who you are.

“as your former commander, let it be known that i have no tolerance for those who hurt inazuma’s citizens.” you sneer, grip tightening on the polearm in your hands as you swipe away yet another wave with the water that materialises over your weapon.

if you are known as anyone in inzauma’s history, it will not be as somebody who let the world walk over them.

fujikabuto fort is a two day trek across inazuma’s beaches — you know the area well enough thanks to prior experience, but certain things still catch you by surprise. wandering ronins are quick to interrupt you in favour of attempting to steal what you have on you, and the thunder bane also proves to be a formidable enemy.

you never anticipated a warm welcome at the end of your short journey; how could they know of your circumstance, after all? yet it takes your bleary mind by surprise nonetheless to see the soldiers react to you in horror. it’s not a new reaction — and the faded shogun’s symbol over your jacket is not one that will go unrecognised.

but perhaps it would have been a better idea to discard it.

well versed in the hostility, you raise your hands amicably. you are far past starting conflict with these people, taking into consideration the goal you retain even as a resistance soldier begins to approach slowly. you nod your head in silent greeting. suddenly, your breath hitches as a sword is brought to your throat.

“what’s your business here?” the weapon digs lightly into your skin, and for appearance’s sake, you force down the desire to turn the man’s own sword on him. he is unrecognisable, likely only a soldier of normal rank assuming he got lucky enough to snag someone wearing the enemy’s colours.

gritting your teeth, you smile politely. “i’m here to see general gorou--”

the sword twitches, and for the life of you, you cannot hide your distaste.

“--on personal business.” you finish.

the man quirks a brow, casting a quick glance at the rest of the soldiers behind him. with the presence of his so-called upper hand, he must truly believe that he has the right to be cocky. a small smile turns the corner of his lips up. the soldier’s free hand comes up to wave another over, likely a subordinate of some kind by the way she scurries over.

“an enemy general…” his head twists in false wonder, the edge of his sword digging into your skin, you grimace as blood begins to pool beneath your skin.. “i reckon she’s worth a hefty price to us. what do we do with her?”

the other soldier seems confused. she looks apprehensively between you and the man, as if weighing the weight between sword and spear -- before finally, she shrugs.

“not what you’re suggesting. we should get her to general gorou.” she insists, ignoring the warning in the soldier’s eye. “whether she truly has business with him or is only bluffing, it will go over smoothly as long as he is dealing with it.”

the soldier tsks, nudging her with his shoulder as you look on. he whispers unidentifiably, still smirking even as the poor girl goes red.

“fine. do what you want.” she sighs, sparing you each one last glance before heading off in the opposite direction. watching her back, you can’t help but shake your head.

“i don’t think dragging her into your threats makes for a very charming impression.”

you wince as the sword presses further into your throat with a vengeance. the group of onlookers is slowly growing, especially as an itchy hand reaches for the polearm on your back.

you tilt your head back as to separate the metal from your skin, letting the blood drip from your throat as you take in a breath. “i’ll give you one last chance to direct me to your general. i won’t be letting a foot soldier order me around any longer than that.”

anger sparks in the man’s eye in the exact moment your hand finds the water-enveloped weapon on your back. but, largely distracted by the heat of the moment, he doesn’t notice the way that the wind begins to pick up in the same tense you do.

“hey, what are you-?”

you step back to look up into the sky early enough to expect what no one else does. but, namely, to leave room for the man that seems to plummet from the heavens. a flash of red and white comes down from above to adorn your vision with maple leaves and flurrying fabric.

nine months. nine months without contact and the moment kazuha’s eyes meet yours, you feel everything rushing back despite yourself. panic rakes in his gaze over you. yet, when he settles, it is not in front of you, but the soldier that had threatened you not even minutes ago.

“kazuha!” the soldier snaps to attention, garnering your concern. “welcome back to inazuma!”

“you were abroad.” you sigh, letting your hand drop from your weapon as your jaw loosens. “what a lovely greeting. i take it our separation stung?”

you’re stupid.

headstrong words leave your mouth, betraying everything you wish to say -- a depressingly common theme in your relationship.

kazuha doesn’t answer with words at first, only the slight tilt of his head. you pride yourself in the fact that he does not once make a move to reach for his sword.

“terribly. what are you doing all the way out here?”

“I already told that scumbag but--” you sigh bitterly, hand reaching up to wipe the blood off your throat. astute eyes follow your actions with an indiscernible look. “he stopped me from going any further.”

almost leisurely, kazuha takes a peek at the soldier behind him, who raises his hands in mock surrender.

“come with me.”

the solider casts a small smile at you as he begins to follow in your friend’s footsteps, kazuha then stops midstep. an amused look swims through his eyes.

“my apologies.” he bows his head. “not you, but her.”

there’s a beat of silence in the air that you swear is thick enough to slice with a sword. but, not sparing the soldier the privilege of another glance, you quickly pick up step behind kazuha. he just barely waits for you to catch up on the rigid path.

“care to explain?” kazuha asks, reaching into his pocket to casually pull out a red handkerchief and offer it to you. “you’ve only just arrived, and you’re already in trouble?”

hesitantly, you take it. kazuha speaks sparingly, and it doesn’t necessarily surprise you, but it hurts regardless.

“it wasn’t my fault. i walked up looking for general gorou and that bastard went straight to threatening me.” you grumble, using the cloth to carefully wipe the remaining blood off of your neck. fortunately, the man did not cut deep. “if you had been any later, you might’ve needed to set aside a sickbed.”

his brow quirks. “you’re here to see the general…?”

your eyes meet his from the side, pushing him to elaborate.

“is that the reason you didn’t open my letter?” kazuha asks.

“oh, that? it was the first one in months.” you frown, shaking your head as you step up and into the main part of the camp. “what was i to do? open it like i was expecting it?”

kazuha doesn’t answer. but it’s not a stunned silence — it’s almost as if he had been expecting the taunting response, simply waiting for you to finish.

embarrassed, you look away with a sigh. “how do you know i didn’t open it, anyway?”

he eyes you curiously.

“the words in the breeze brought the information to me.”

“…of course they did.” you grumble.

the terrain of the resistance’s camp is rugged, but you have to give credit where it’s due -- they were somehow able to carve paths out of the hard dirt, even if it is near impossible to avoid impaling your foot with a sharp rock at every other step. the tents are also small and spaced evenly, leaving room for privacy, if not total isolation when needed. impressed, you nudge kazuha as you walk.

“how long did it take you to set up this camp?”

he shrugs. “i’m not sure, i wasn’t here to do that.”

short and concise.

you nod in lapse of a response. of course, your relationship wouldn’t mend itself. but you had expected a better starting point -- it had been years since you’d told kazuha to leave, though you suppose something like that isn’t easily forgotten. taking a peek up at him, you frown.

he is indifferent to the utmost extent, expression flat as he leads you to where you need to go. the only indication that kazuha knows you walk beside him is the quick answer that comes after every pointless question you churn out.

when you stop in front of a particularly large tent, he finally speaks to you.

“then why come here?”

the words sting as your stomach drops.

“…because you were right.” you mumble, averting your eyes so you don’t have to meet his piercing gaze. “i never should have stayed.”

a few moments of silence pass before kazuha’s mouth attempts to open, but he is cut short by the sudden swiping aside of the tent’s curtains. surprised, you stare at a fox-eared man with wide eyes.

gorou is equally as stunned to see you. “general ___?”

awkwardly, you bow your head in acknowledgment.

“i don’t… go by that anymore.” you say, attempting to ignore the shock that permeates their composures. “please, just call me ____.”

a hand grabs your shoulder. “you don’t go by- what are you saying?”

you don’t look at kazuha even as he squeezes, addressing gorou rather than the confused man beside you.

“i had always planned to leave the shogunate eventually.” you admit, releasing a quiet sigh of relief as kazuha disconnects from you. “but now, they’re planning something terrible for you that i couldn’t stick around to see happen .”

gorou looks to the man beside you, as if searching for a second opinion. when kazuha nods, gorou leads you back in preparation for what could be the worst.

the tent is small but secure. the corners are meticulously closed with intricate knots to avoid sound escaping, and a single stove works to heat the space. in the middle of the cozy space is a table, over which hang compartments of what you can only assume are military papers.

“you can sit there.” gorou gestures to the seat farthest from the entrance, and you comply. you wish you could see the expressions on their faces now, but your entire story depends on your credibility — even the smallest signs of hesitance may be taken the wrong way.

silently, you peer up at them after you slip into the seat. gorou follows suit quickly, taking the seat across from you and knitting his hands over the table.

“so, tell me again why you’re here?”

unsure of how to begin, you lean forward on your palm. “well. have you received any care packages recently..?

gorou crosses his arms. “why should i share information like that?”

“general, for this to work, i’ll need you to trust me for now.”

“you have no authority here.” he reminds you, watching you as your words die in your throat. “you’re lucky i’m hearing you out at all.”

“and what if you do turn me away?” you quirk a brow. “are you prepared for the consequences of your actions?“

it’s a bold statement, and you’re prepared for him to take it as a threat — but this is something you must run by him no matter what. if he does not want your cooperation, he must at least think it would serve no harm to garner it.

gorou’s expression remains still. the only sign that he had heard you at all rests in the delicate set of his brows, alluding to the surprise he cannot show.

“what consequences do you mean?”

you recount your past few weeks in inazuma — the meeting wherein you’d realised your true feelings in accordance with the vision hunt decree, and your calculated promise to help kujou sara with her secret plan to fight the resistance.

carefully, you skirt around the details that involve resolving to find your way back to kazuha. but even as you explain the moment of mindset change you had always fought back, his lack of reaction is disappointingly honest.

“so, you meant to tell me,” gorou contemplates your words, eyes far off as he pieces your words together. “we’ll receive a package from an unknown sponsor in due time?”

you agree.

“and this package contains delusions from the fatui that are disguised as normal weapons?”

“yes, that’s what i was told.”

gorou shares a look with kazuha.

“___.” when gorou says your name, his tone is kind. your expression twists slightly at the sudden change. “you said that you had always been on the fence about the shogunate. am i correct?”

unsure where gorou is taking this, you nod.

“how… how sure are you that these thoughts weren’t visible to other people? is there any chance that this information was given to you intentionally?”

it’s a valid point you’d never considered.

“why-?” you speak without thinking. “it may have always been clear where my alliances were to some, but they would have no gain in pushing me out. you know how hard it is to replace a general!”

you barely notice how kazuha’s brows lift, but the minuscule action reminds you of the words you’d just let go — in a moment of desperation, you’d revealed the contradiction that had plagued you since years ago on that night. the one you’d initially intended to keep hidden until you were sure he was open-minded enough to hear it.

“e-either way.” you shut yourself down and avoid kazuha’s eyes. “if you’re suggesting that they would attempt to use my opposition as a test, they have trusted me many times before. besides, no amount of opposition would be enough to let me go. an army does well when there are different viewpoints.”

gorou agrees. “sure, but not if those viewpoints are in favour of a long-standing enemy.”

at a loss for words, you sit back.

“it’s not a lie…” you trail off, thinking of the moments you had caught with the tengu warrior. “kujou sara is a lot of things, but trust me when i say that she is not an actress.”

it pains you to see that he does not believe you:

time passes slowly from that point on — your story is quickly passed amongst the soldiers and largely doubted. most treat it as if catching wind of the fatui’s plot right as the resistance is gaining ground is too perfect to be a coincidence. but, the rational part of you knows how it sounds, so you waste no breath telling the people around you to believe it.

one morning a few days later, kazuha appears at your tent early.

“come on, sit up.”

drowsy, you do as he says without thinking. you’d been in the same shogunate jacket since the day you arrived, and though most of the resistance members are slowly getting used to your presence, one soldier named teppei has taken to being very kind to you. his golden eyes are resilient as they fearlessly tell off anyone that dares to pick on you.

you remember his hand descending upon your shoulder vividly. “everyone deserves a second chance!”

as kazuha approaches you presently, tired eyes meet him while he crouches next to your cot.

you offer him an incomplete smile, to which he has a hard time ignoring. “good morning.”

his lips twitch in response. “good morning.”

“hold out your arm?”

you oblige, giving kazuha your arm limply and he takes it. curiously, you observe him as he fishes a roll of medical tape out of his pocket. he rips a piece off with his teeth.

“you don’t fit in here with this.” he muses, taping over the shogunate symbol on your bicep with practiced hands. your lips thin in an attempt to hide the cry that works to escape your throat.

“…i know.” you whisper as your head bows slightly. kazuha’s eyes flit up to you, actions halting. “i don’t fit in here. i don’t fit in there.”

his lips thin slightly as he offers you a strained smile. “you will. i… believe your story. and when the others do too, i will help you gloat to each.”

your eyes trail down to his as dejection fills your voice. “i’m sorry, kazuha. i know you don’t want to hear it, but i’m so sorry.”

the blond pauses for a moment, but your heart drops when he looks away.

“there’s no need to apologise.”

as he turns his back to leave, you can’t help but wonder in what light he had meant it.

you have no choice but to go on in anticipation; anticipation for kazuha, for the package you pray the resistance receives, and for yourself. because in the meantime, there’s also no telling how much time will pass before you are able to find a comfortable position amongst your new peers.

you still don’t dare to approach kazuha on your own accord -- because it’s hard to know what to expect from the ronin, as any two interactions between you may be completely different. some days, you will find kazuha offering you an extra serving of the unagi he’d caught that morning, while others, he might only spare you a few stray conversations.

you make countless excuses for him in your head while truthfully, you cannot explain his tendencies. there may be patterns within the hot and cold actions, you cannot for the life of you figure it out. so, not knowing the interactions you will have, you leave the duty of seeking you out to him.

and while it may be true that his feelings seem mixed, he never fails to do so. and you would like to think that it means something.

much to kazuha’s dismay, you have not changed.

desperately, he tries to justify a dislike for you -- to doubt you like the resistance soldiers are within their right to, to refuse to separate your identity from the organisation you’d left him for, or even to hold a grudge against the things you’d said to him in the heat of the moment years ago. but most of all, to let go of the same wretched longing he’d clung to ever since that night he’d left you in inazuma city.

yet, it is obvious that your time with the shogunate has done nothing to you. welcome or not, you are here presently because you believe you’ve done the right thing.

even if it means you think you’ve lost him.

in the first hours of a morning nearly two weeks into your impromptu visit, kazuha catches himself attempting to piece together your impressions of the resistance so far. for life to change so suddenly must have been tumultuous. yet he has not once seen you complain -- likely to earn the trust of those around you, but in any sense, it is a telling self-restriction.

as the man sighs, the sun raises a hazy glare over his face. yashiori island is humid in the early summer months, taking on warmer traits while still retaining its cold winds that come in from the northwest watatsumi islands. kazuha leaps down carefully from the winding tree he sits on.

the breeze softens the rough edges of his mind as he walks back into the camp. the day is about to begin, and however ready he may be to face the tribulations, the refreshing air of the morning did not do as much for him as he had hoped.

“kazuha. i will always be with you, but i can’t just pick up and leave!”

the conversation kazuha has turned over in his head time and time again suddenly comes back to him. his lips twist slightly.

“why not?!” kazuha gestured his hand, shaking his head. there were too many things he needed to say, too many things he couldn’t find the words to share. his heart was blurry as a small but desperate sound left his lips. “what if i lo-“

he cut himself off with a grunt.

times have changed. looking at you, there is no doubt in his mind of this. yet whenever your sad gaze appears in his mind’s eye once more, gently spoken words tickle his ears as he recalls patching up your jacket. internally, kazuha wants nothing more than to know you again. if kazuha had loved you once, he thought it only natural to miss your companionship, but your closed-off demeanour had confused him short.

it seemed as if you wanted nothing to do with him, leaving the duty of starting most interactions to him. kazuha had hoped the nerves would die off with time, and though it is true that you have adjusted since you arrived, you are still somewhat stiff with him.

yet, when he noticed your scattered attempts to hide the emblem stitched on the shoulders, despite his better judgement, he had approached you at that point wanting to help. even if it meant he didn’t know what to expect of you.

to see his dear friend so easily break down in front of him, it foolishly gave him hope that you were thinking nothing different; because even as it hurt him, kazuha could not let go of the visage of you he remembered so well.

“would it not be romantically irresponsible of me to forgo acknowledging the scenery with a poem or two?”

gorou had thrown him a look of disbelief from beside him that day, lips curling up into a crooked smile that displayed his canines.

“it’s romantically irresponsible of you to not do a lot of things these days.”

kazuha hummed. the sea breeze took his bangs lightly, curling them against the salty touch of his skin. gorou is not only the leader he follows, but also a dear friend. consequently, the faulty skirmishes between the two of you on the battlefield did not go unnoticed to his trained eye.

“perhaps. though i am at least able to take care of this.”

the words carry a heavy meaning that has gorou slouching over with a groan.

“perhaps, you should take a break. i know every inch and crevice in inazuma reminds you of her, and i don’t think exposure therapy is a very good method for a poet such as yourself.”

a smile tugged at something inside of him.

“perhaps.”

he had departed from inazuma on gorou’s suggestion not only for the opportunity to travel amongst the crew of the alcor once again, but also to get away from the rolling hills that reminded him of nothing but the person he had abandoned. yet, upon kazuha’s eventual return, he had come to the very thing he had been avoiding. you had spit venom just as anyone would expect you to, and though he appreciated your defensiveness, it hurt to see.

not a day goes by where he doesn’t wonder what life would be like if he had taken the time to talk you down. so, kazuha had gone years of his life thinking that the raiden shogun had taken two of his dear friends’ lives that night. but as time went on, he began to realise that may not be true.

that afternoon, he comes upon you training alone. it’s not an uncommon sight, to see you doing something on your own -- eating, practicing with your polearm, even mere relaxation are activities little people will join you in. occasionally, there is a certain golden-eyed soldier that will bite the bullet and accompany you, though he has been noticeably restricted to a sickbed for the past few days.

“how are you faring doing such a thing alone?”

the words drop from his mouth as you pull back your polearm from the training dummy, stance inviting him to take another step forward.

“quite well, thank you.”

kazuha’s eyes draw to the weapon in your hand, the spear you obviously haven’t even considered parting with since your arrival. he recognises the carvings without even thinking about it, the pattern of the shallow lines familiar to his own hand. he had carved the weapon out of impulse, the face that you still hang onto it keeps him hopeful.

he gestures with a nod. “i wasn’t aware you still carried that around.”

you look over at the weapon that stands in the dirt, and back up at him. something in your gaze seems slightly cornered, though he’s relieved when you nod.

“of course, it’s a good weapon.” you say, tossing it up slightly to catch it in the air. your gaze goes to the same carvings that still catch his attention, and the corner of your lips quirk up with the shadow of a smile. “you’ll have to see sometime, i’ve gotten a lot better since we last met.”

kazuha quirks a brow. his sword is already sheathed neatly on his waist, ready to be drawn just as it always is.

“perhaps you’d like to try now, then?”

“...sorry?”

he nods, experimentally drawing his sword — you take a step back with surprised eyes. but, once you’ve understood his angle, you let yourself lean forward again with a small smile of relief.

“you sure? i won’t console you when you lose like i did back then.” shy laughter peeks through your words, and it delights him.

“there will be no need.”

though your weapons of choice differ, you have no trouble keeping up with his strikes. if anything, kazuha first thinks to commend you even if you do fall short -- between the two of you, you are the one at a disadvantage. over time, more techniques are noticeably rushed or backed by hesitance. and while it could be a mere product of using spear on sword, he can’t help feel as though it’s more than that.

“what you said that night to general gorou,” the sudden close clash of metal on metal allows him to catch your attention. “did you mean it?”

pushing back as best you can, your brows furrow. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“it was always clear where my alliances were to some.” kazuha recounts the words you’d said the night you first arrived, noting the way your face pales. perhaps you assumed he had forgotten.

“…and?” you thrust your weapon forward in an attempt to throw him off balance, but much to his surprise, you succeed. kazuha’s eyes widen as he takes a step backwards. sword reflexively faltering, he mistakenly gives you ample room to close the already small distance between you.

he offers you an impressed smile as you come within an inch of him, the sharp edge of your polearm just barely grazing the skin of his neck.

“what would you say if it were true?”

your brown eyes search his, devoid of anything but curiosity. a familiar flutter beats to life in kazuha’s chest, and knowing who it reaches for, he does not think to quench the crushing sensation. despite his best efforts to avoid the realisation, you have, at this point, certainly crawled into his heart once more.

letting out an unstable breath, his lips curl into a smile that is a beat too late, “...i would ask why you didn’t say it sooner.”

wiping a sheen of sweat from your forehead, you can’t help but groan to yourself. the sun works overtime on your exhausted body, as if administering a more physical punishment for the words you’d said to kazuha.

you’ve always been the type to get in over your head easily — though so far, your embarrassing jabs to him have only seemed to put him in a strangely good mood.

you thought you had finally figured him out, only for him to turn around and shatter your expectations like nothing. it’s like you’re children again, dancing around the notion of one another and waiting for a whisper of change.

but his friendlier demeanour is of no consequence to you. so, foolishly, you have accepted it — because if keeping him closer ends in him choosing revenge, then so be it. it is not a possibility you think to dwell on now.

attempting to push the thoughts from your head long enough to fend off the flush that haunts your cheeks, you finally set your spear over your back. kazuha himself had departed long ago after your short skirmish. he had spoken of other duties to handle with the tell-tale ghost of a smile on his face.

even now, he never ceases to be mysterious.

as you walk through the camp, you hope your frazzled state is hidden enough. not that anyone would say anything if it weren’t — your hair could suddenly go up in flames and you would garner nothing more than a silent glance. though, at this moment, it is a blessing. were someone to look too hard, you fear they might be able to see right through you.

you have never regarded your cot as anything but uncomfortable, but the moment you finally reach your tent, it is akin to a cloud in your eyes. falling face first, the uneven mattress bunches around you. and for once, it seems to hug you in all the places you need it to.

it has been a long few weeks since you took up shelter at fort fujito -- and while the absence of kujou sara’s plan is worrying, you are content in the way that you have begun to not doubt your place. rather than waiting for the odd looks to cease, you have learned to shoulder them, hanging onto the presence of kazuha by your side.

the sunlight filters weakly through the tent, lying a peaceful hue over your body as you let yourself drift off. however, you wake abruptly to a cooler tone and uncharacteristic rowdiness somewhere outside. it at first rouses irritation, but it quickly settles into curiosity. what could they be so excited about all of the sudden?

“you’re awake?”

you startle easy in your drowsy state, raising an arm to fend against the sudden source of noise

kazuha gives you a pleasant smile as he lets the tent flap drop behind him, quietly ducking to kneel beside you. there are days where he could walk laps around you without you knowing, and it’s certainly quite a talent. the anemo user is quick with not only words, but also actions.

you attempt a smile in return, though your sludge-like reaction time cannot be held back enough to keep from wincing at the sudden shouts.

“what’s going on?” you ask, hands coming up idly to cover your ears. kazuha casts a glance over his shoulder, but when he looks back to you, the fiery look in his eyes is barely recognisable.

“the sangonomiyan priestess arrived on the island not long ago.” kazuha nods, expression sly. “perhaps she has something to share?”

after a moment of pondering, you sit up abruptly as the meaning of his words reach you. eyes widening, you barely avoid stuttering in shock. “you don’t mean--?”

he shrugs. “truthfully, i don’t mean anything concrete. my lady is not a very particular person, her visit could be one made on mere impulse.”

a heavy spark runs through your chest at the proclamation. but, believing it to be plain uncertainty over anything else, you simply push down the sour feeling with a shrug.

“…my lady? is that referring to sangonomiya kokomi?”

kazuha nods, bunching his hands in the edge of the blanket that covers you. “it is. she has always preferred to go by this title, though i presume it was not her idea originally.”

you prod him on with the slight quirk of your brow.

“general gorou,” he explains. “the first i heard of the nickname, it was from his mouth. i only followed suit as everyone else did.”

the immense relief you receive from his reasoning is concerning.

a shadow appears at your tent before you can respond, tapping on the thick fabric in silent warning. you and kazuha share a look before you address the figure.

“please come in.”

when the curtain is pulled away, you are taken aback. it has been a long time since you’ve seen sangonomiya kokomi in person, but it is now that you’re reminded why the people of her island regard her as a deity. she embodies the land and the sky, eyes like the ocean and manners like the wind.

the formidable strategist offers you an amicable smile. she says your name, and your ears burn in embarrassment. your eyelids are still heavy and your hair shows obvious signs of sleep, yet meanwhile, her clothes are laid flawlessly, and the air around her is peaceful.

“greetings.”

you smile awkwardly, but kazuha’s silent nudge adds a darker tinge of red to your ears. kokomi’s expression is patient as you stand up.

“hello,” you bow your head slightly. “it’s nice to see you in.. different circumstances.”

the last time you’d interacted had been on the battlefield, in a much different light. however, this doesn’t seem to hold any water. much to your relief, she takes no offence to your unorthodox conversation starter. she even laughs, the sound sweet and clear.

“yes, it is quite nice to meet you here.” kokomi’s eyes travel between the two of you almost calculatingly, but she doesn’t linger. “i trust you’ve found a home with the resistance?”

kazuha’s head dips, and her implication also sends a rush of red to your cheeks.

for sake of professionality, you clear your throat and squeak out, “something like that.”

a passive smile graces her features as he turns to take a peek over her shoulder, presumably through the gap in the tent.

“general,” your throat is dry as you address her, though she provides you with her full attention. “i assume… that you aren’t just here to say hello?”

“you are as adept as i remember. that i am not, but please do not worry. i am not retrieving you to deliver bad news.”

she shares a glance with kazuha, who still kneels next to the cot behind you. “on the contrary, i’m sure you will be quite delighted.”

you’re silent as you walk beside kazuha to a more central part of the camp, bubbling with apprehension. he steadies you with a hand to your shoulder as you walk.

“you know,” he starts, shrugging slightly. “you shouldn’t worry. there is very little good news it could be when in accordance to you.”

you know he’s right — there’s no reason for your anxieties. yet still, whatever this woman says is as good as fact to the soldiers that reside here. her words will determine what track your life follows from now on, and it’s an awfully big responsibility to pin on someone other than yourself.

you just laugh. “i appreciate the harsh honesty.”

“my comrades,”

kokomi is resilient as she stands before a crowd, posture straight and smile warm. if humans really are predestined to live out a certain fate, surely she had a role such as this coming. you attempt to rub the sleep from your eyes as she begins.

“it is wonderful to see you all in good health, your work at the front and on has paid back well. we gain advances across the beaches with each passing day, and this is only thanks to your marvelous execution.”

the resistance members quickly follow suit as she claps delicately. assorted cheers are thrown up from the crowd, and you don’t miss the smile that pokes at kazuha’s lips.

“recently, we have caught wind of those outside of our forces that are looking to support us.”

you can almost feel yourself perking up. kazuha is also noticeably attentive beside you.

“ i have chosen to accept this offer.” she voices her decision, and your stomach drops all the same. her sanguine eyes look for yours amongst the dense crowd as if to reassure. “but do not misunderstand me. these weapons are not to be used, but studied.”

“a trusted informant that has recently joined us has ruled these weapons as corroding -- a way to wipe out our hard-working forces from the inside. hence your warning: there will be an influx of equipment being transported within the next few weeks. please pay no mind to it, as well as touch it without proper equipment.”

a soft murmur runs through the crowd, yet all you can do is sigh in relief. you raise a hand to cover your mouth.

“thank god.” you whisper, head dipping with a sigh. “i was starting to worry that people would start trying to call my bluff.”

kazuha bumps your shoulder with his, smile evident in his voice. “i’m very rarely wrong.”

even with your years as a shogunate general, the concept of battle still baffles you. it is an unpredictable mess of people that oppose each other, fueled by hatred and obligation that may not even be their own. the pressure of leading people into such an environment is a gamble, though you have at least gotten good at that -- for weeks, you sit around a table with sangonomiya kokomi, inspecting and noting every detail on each weapon sent to you.

the tedious work is beyond your normal skillset, so to say.

“they’re duller,” kazuha says this from beside you, eyes trailing up to where kokomi sits across from you. he had volunteered to help quite easily, immediately after you had promised to devote your time to the priestess’ affairs. but that had been almost one week ago, and you with each passing moment, you fear that he is getting more bored -- and yet, his careful eyes have distinguished a surprising amount of discoveries.

it warms your chest with something familiar, something that you don’t want to let go of.

it goes ablaze as kazuha shoots a small smile in your direction. kokomi is doing similar inspections across the table, hidden behind a tiny set of glasses as to study the finer details of the bow in her hands. the silence prompts him to continue.

“at the end, they aren’t a point, just a little under that, but noticeable enough.”

she nods along slowly. kokomi doesn’t answer him for a few moments, but when she sets down the weapon and takes off her glasses, she seems to have finally come to a conclusion.

“there is not much of a physical difference between these weapons and a normal one,” kokomi notes, a gloved hand reaching to pick up a normal weapon from beside her. she lines them up on the table as her gaze passes amongst them. “though kazuha has so far been right, these are merely manufacturing differences. the only way to truly distinguish the two kinds of weapons thus far has been through elemental aura.”

“the ones with delusions embedded in them have an undeniably different energy compared to those made of simple materials. to recreate these, i suppose we would need to embed them with some kind of elemental power.”

your brows furrow as a helpless breath escapes you.

“...and how would we be able to do such a thing?”

kokomi’s lips thin in concentration.

“I suppose…” her voice is light, contemplative. “we will likely have to embed some with power, likely from a vision holder.”

as you stand on the edge of a battlefield now, you know you are likely not cut out for her plan. there is a small sum of vision holders that reside in the resistance’s camp, and the average soldiers far outnumber any of you -- yet together, you, kazuha, gorou, and kokomi had been marked solely responsible for keeping the weapons constantly wrapped in elemental energy.

it was a necessary step, a precaution to hide your knowledge. because the moment kujou sara notices anything is amiss, she will surely twist it in her favour.

but you will personally see to it that she never does.

taking a quick look ahead of you at the soldiers that charge into the fray, you note the striking presence of their blades. hopefully, you’re able to avoid strain so the aura doesn’t waver.

gorou had greatly appreciated you offering to lead half of his men, effectively slicing the amount of work he needed to keep up with in half. but, it also required great effort to debate the spread of your efforts out further -- this battle is merely a ruse to convince kujou sara that her plan is working, so hopefully, no great strategy will be necessary.

“heads up!” a rough yet distinctly female voice comes from over your head, making you lift your eyes skyward. a grinning woman is hanging loosely by kazuha’s hands, who, judging by the swirl of maple leaves around him, is gliding with the strength of his vision. you smile as the woman plunges down by her claymore onto a group of shogunate soldiers.

kazuha lands unsteadily next to you, reaching out to you for support as his glider folds in. you catch him with a laugh..

“that’s beidou,” he begins, leaning onto your shoulder as he mirrors your smile. “she’s a good friend from liyue who insisted on helping.”

“the more help, the better!” you say, hand latching onto his waist to keep him upright. he stiffens for a moment, though the sensation is gone as quick as it had come -- rather, he seems to sink into your touch afterwards. it makes your cheeks blaze with a temperature you fully intend to blame on the anticipation of battle.

kazuha keeps his gaze on the conflict in front of you, on the weapons in the soldiers’ hands that swirl with your elements. perhaps you have been too focused on worrying about how other people see you to notice how kazuha sees you; even now, he is leaning onto you without a thought, and it strikes something inside of you to realise it.

there is no going back to the time you both left behind. though perhaps you’re capable of creating a better future together.

after kazuha catches his breath, he slips away from you with the thoughtful promise to be careful. it almost hurts to see him go. but, pinning it on turbulent emotions, you too set off in search of someone to assist.

you make your way to the front without even trying, rushing past each small skirmish in an attempt to be certain you’re holding up the hydro in the weapons well enough. even if your strength is wavering, your conviction is not.

every weapon remains in stable condition.

there’s no time to pat yourself on the back, though. because as you arrive in the front, you come face to face with just the person you’ve been avoiding. kujou sara’s eyes glint with the same concentrated sheen she always dons during combat.

she hasn’t seemed to notice you yet, and though you have an ample window to escape, you hesitate just a second too long. when she throws out her arm to command a flank, her gaze lands directly on you.

a frightening mix of rage and curiosity twists her features as she draws her bow. your eyes widen.

“kujou sara!” you shout with the dormant voice of a general, taking a step back. “do not make any rash decisions!”

you are in no place to order her around anymore, but you pray that she sees her old friend in you and grants you mercy. she does slowly lower her bow, but the contemplative look that runs through her eyes makes you doubt her intentions.

“you dare to show your face around me?” she challenges, taking powerful strides forward until she is nearly within touching distance. her bow is still tight in her hand.

“sara, what are you doing?” your brows furrow, she does not react. “are you really going to hurt me? you know what kind of person I am, i never could have stood going through with the things you were planning.”

her lips thin in contempt.

“yet you’re still here.” she nods, grip loosening on her bow enough for her to let out a sigh. “you still let your so-called comrades use the very weapons you threw away your life to protect them from.”

she believes it.

feigning a frown, you try to mimic hurt in your expression when in reality, you are over the moon.

“don’t — don’t pin such a thing on me. you know how desperate they are to gain the upper hand, there was no way for me to convince them of their danger.” eyes downcast, you swallow what you hope seems like a harsh lump in your throat. it takes everything you have to fight back a smile and keep the elemental energy centred at once.

kujou sara’s lips morph into a slight smirk, likely a jab at your suddenly disappointed composure.

“it has been a mere few months, but you have grown incompetent quickly.” the words are backed by bitterness, though you don’t think to pay any attention to it until she draws her bow. real fear runs through your veins as she draws it back, gritting her teeth.

“the shogun wants you alive, but you do not deserve even that.”

eyes widening, you attempt to draw your polearm — but by the time you reach back to draw the weapon, she will likely already have let the bowstring go. body stuttering, you throw your arms over your face in a last ditch attempt to protect yourself.

you hear the bowstring, and for the first time in a long while, you are terrified.

had she not believed you after all? had she harboured such a hatred for you because you had abandoned the shogun? there is no telling what kujou sara truly feels in the time you have left.

but your end never comes.

a sharp noise and flash of red comes to your aid. as you slowly lower your shaking hands, you are staring at the wide expanse of a back, belonging to the person who had drawn his sword to protect you. he holds it against his chest, blade steaming from the impact of the arrow’s tip.

kujou sara laughs. it is a wretched sound, a defeated sound.

“of course, it’s you.”

kazuha cracks a challenging smile. “my reputation seems to precede me.”

most likely not wanting to deal with the repercussions of strength in numbers, she draws back with the wanton shake of her head.

“we will meet again, ___. mark my words.”

with one last conflicting look in your direction, kujou sara turns her back and busies herself with another section of her army. ever the professional, it seems.

once she is out of view, kazuha immediately turns around to tend to you. his hands hover over you as his eyes search.

“i got here in time, right? you’re not hurt?” you’re about to answer before he takes your wrist, turning over and inspecting one of the arms you’d held up.

you can’t help but laugh at him, a giggle building up quickly in your chest. his eyes meet yours as it spills out, relieved.

“kazuha,” as your laugh draws out, you take his wrist in return. a startled flush paints his pale skin. “she believed me. she thinks the weapons are real.”

once your words register, he beams.

as soon as you’ve relayed the information to gorou, he wastes no time in pulling back the army into a retreat. there is a familiar and unmistakable happiness buzzing beneath his loud commands, and it gives the soldiers that know him well comfort.

as the day begins to decline, you retreat back to the resistance camp high on the feeling of undeniable success. not only is each soldier and strategist and general coming home alive, but you have also fulfilled the tedious plan of convincing the shogunate of your failure to stop the delusions from slipping through.

someone bumps your shoulder suddenly, and you look up to meet kazuha’s smiling eyes.

“you did it,” as kazuha laughs, a foreign emotion passes through his eyes. it delights you. “i’m proud of you, you’ve certainly come far.”

but along with your successes comes an even greater gain.

the resistance camp is a place where people tend to come and go, whether soldier, refugee, or even a special case such as yourself, the beaten dirt paths see many faces over time. but, while normally in passing, tonight it is unusually lively. cheers fill the small area, lighting up the normally sodden atmosphere with a spark of life.

it is a pleasantly warm night on yashori island, a comfortable temperature that reaches the deepest parts of you. the torches are also lit brightly around the drifting crowd, casting a haze that covers the impending night chill effortlessly.

as you take casual steps through the camp, you attempt searching for a familiar face. kazuha had been separated from you very quickly since you’d arrived, entertaining the wishes of a few soldiers he seemed to be acquainted with. he shot you an apologetic smile as he allowed himself to be dragged away, though truly, it was of no consequence.

despite the aloof attitude he carries, kazuha is undeniably quite popular among the younger members of the resistance.

but the appearances of everyone unfamiliar quickly blends together, making it impossible to determine whether the people you pass by are the same from earlier. kokomi had certainly outdone herself with the impromptu celebration, getting a bottle of beer into everyone’s grasp and leaving them for a night of relaxation -- an ample opportunity to boost morale, so to say.

yet just as you attempt to locate your friend again, you’re suddenly distracted by a hand on your arm. when you startle, gorou pulls back with quick remorse, even if the excited look in his eyes does not dissipate. the smile you give him is one you can’t help.

“___, come with me. quickly!” he pulls you around the crowd, and with one last look back in kazuha’s direction, you let your feet follow along, you are less thrilled when he gathers everyone’s attention.

“fellow soldiers and comrades!” gorou’s voice silences the roaring camp almost completely, bringing a frightfully aware flush to the tips of your ears. surely he doesn’t mean to congratulate you?

“we are here today thanks to the person who came forward even when she knew no one would believe her. her information has not only given us the upper hand, but also driven a serious blow into the tenryou forces!”

of course he means to congratulate you.

a surprising amount of cheers leave the dense crowd, some reluctant, some willing -- yet the one that stands out the most is kazuha, cheering with the same group of boys that had snatched him up earlier.

your heart constricts. it is a gesture you want to welcome with open arms, but there is a bitter feeling that ferments with worry in your gut. you had always been a bit of a pessimist, expecting the worst even if you yearned for the best — and you know well now that you can’t expect it from everything.

but there is something about kazuha’s behaviour that feels rushed; sudden and nearly unprompted. he had gone from carefully skirting around you to remaining by your side in all things he could, even when you had done nothing to warrant it.

it was something you had noticed beforehand, the shifting of his reactions — you’d held your polearm over his neck, for archon’s sake, and he had simply smiled at you.

forcing up your precarious smile once again, you wave gratefully to the crowd, to sedate their curiosity if nothing else. feeling appreciated and a tad reminiscent of the growth you’d undergone, you nod your sincere thanks to gorou. despite the compromising position, it was clearly a thoughtful effort.

when kazuha is in your line of sight again, your chest constricts. he has done nothing wrong and yet, you have thought to place a sudden distrust in him. it makes you no better than your worries.

“kazuha--!” you raise a hand, and you gain his attention fairly quickly. yet, yours is quickly snatched away as someone else calls your name. an unfamiliar face greets you jovially, speaking of their apologies and thanks to you for helping the resistance. the thought is touching, but, all you find yourself doing is nodding along as you shoot kazuha a regretful smile over their shoulder.

much to your displeasure, he waves you off, mouthing something so distinct you can’t help but shake your head.

enjoy yourself.

you bite the inside of your cheek as you thank the soldier in return, waving them goodbye just as another thinks to approach you.

how am i supposed to enjoy myself when the only thing i want to do is talk to you?

your heart constricts once again, but this time, it is for an entirely different reason.

countless people come up to you with their thanks, congratulations, and a few even attempt to pass along extra rations to your hand. through all of it, the person you want most to see busies himself patiently. you fight back a frown, though, and let yourself talk to the people that are now your comrades -- even if you’d had a rough start, it is never too late to pick yourself back up.

and that much is true over the next quarter hour. you spend every moment making conversation with people who had barely regarded you before, all the while keeping your gaze expertly averted from kazuha. one look and you know you’d excuse yourself regardless of the topic, and the acknowledgement of such a fact hurts.

you’d allowed yourself to care too much for him; what if his sudden attitude flip does turn out to hold malicious intent?

yet, despite such a possibility, kazuha has always been nothing short of kind, considering your wants and needs as if they were his own. he is calm and patient when regarding you, looking at you not as you remember, but in a way that you hope he will continue to -- it reminds you that you aren’t a child anymore, that times have long changed.

your heart pumps a telling beat as you recall some of his nicer deeds. kazuha truly has a heart that looks out for others, evident in even the man’s smallest gestures. when you had begun to get used to each other’s presence, he had recommended you personally as an addition to the resistance’s reconnaissance team, noting your professional skills.

occasionally, he is found wandering around the island, ducking between cave systems only to come back at the end of the day with numerous resources; those of which he usually kindly distributes to the camp. on one of those same nights, he had taught you how to roast lavender melons over the fire.

the memory of his hands over yours sets your cheeks ablaze.

reasonably, it makes no sense that he would have any contempt for you. or at least, it would certainly be an issue at such a point.

despite your hesitance, the moment you have a free hand, you dip away. if anyone attempts to stop you, you breeze past them, unaware. kazuha had hardly moved from the small circle of people he’d been cheering with, making it exceptionally easy to find him in the crowd. as soon as he sees you approaching, he breaks away and meets you halfway.

“there’s our little celebrity,” kazuha croons, a slow smile spreading across his lips as you laugh bashfully. “having fun without me?”

“of course,” your gaze shifts away from him shyly, and he notes the action as you shake your head. “but, anyways, can i… maybe steal you for a second? there’s somewhere i want to go with you.”

kazuha nods, falling into step beside you as you walk out of the wooden gate. “of course, is there an issue that’s come up?”

“no, nothing like that. it’s just…” you recount your thoughts with a wry smile. “i found a place a while ago, and i want to go there again.”

he follows you in silent understanding. you’re grateful he doesn’t ask questions, because you doubt you could answer any of them without him seeing straight through your resolve. the trek is by no means a difficult one. but, as you walk down the winding dirt path and over the weeds that flourish, kazuha holds your hand steady. it’s the small gestures.

at the foot of the hill the camp rests on is a small strip of beach, that of which faces almost directly north. the sunset paints the scene a gorgeous hue between orange and pink as the sun hangs low over the horizon. the atmosphere is warm, and the low tide nips at the sand.

you both settle down onto the rocks above the waves before you say, “you’ve probably been there a thousand times, right?”

he agrees. “but, it’s the first time i’ve been here with you.”

you nod with flushed cheeks, stretching your legs out and staring out ahead of you. if you look hard enough, you can see the outline of liyue harbour in the distance, far away yet still so close. with a heavy feeling in your chest, you realise that’s just how you’re treating the man sitting beside you.

“you know, i’ve been here before,” you begin, eyes trailing down to meet where your hands lay over your knees. “when i was with the shogunate, i had to scope out this area a lot.”

“we were that close, hm?” he hums, and the light tone sends a grimace to your face

“kazuha…” finally, you look up at him, smile apologetic. he meets your gaze with a confused stare. “ i think… i mean, i just think that it’s finally time for us to talk.”

he blinks for a few moments, before turning away, looking at the horizon with contemplative eyes.

“i suppose it is.”

you take a long breath, brows pinched slightly in apprehension.

“...when i first started working with the shogunate, despite the fact that i had said some horrible things to you, i was happy.” you admit, shrugging. kazuha watches the waves on the horizon as you speak, his averted gaze polite.

“i was so grateful to be there, and i thought that i had found what i would be doing for the rest of my life. but, not a single person had a connection to someone in the resistance. they couldn’t accurately choose what to do because they didn’t know the full story like i did.”

you sigh, voice going quiet. “and it was suffocating. i tried to fight for things that weren’t cruel. yet, I was ridiculed behind my back for having a connection to you in return. they said… they said that the only good choice i’d ever made was leaving you behind that night.”

“___…” a hand goes on your shoulder as the first tear falls.

“i tried so hard to ignore it.” you cry, wiping the back of your hand over your eyes. “but, even as i climbed the ranks, people still hated me for it.”

kazuha puts an arm around your back, rubbing soothing circles into your hip. he is hesitantly silent as your body wracks with tears, and it goes on like that for what seems like hours -- unconcrete words of comfort pass from his lips to you, though he has yet to say anything more.

“...did you ever believe that you had made the right choice? letting me go that night?” he finally whispers. your lip curls as another onslaught of tears attempts to break forth. adamantly, you shake your head.

“never.”

your gazes meet briefly, and the look of surprise that passes over his face at the sight of you is startling. you must be a pitiful visage, eyes red and skin puffy with regret.

“oh, ___…” he chastises you with a mumble, free hand coming up to thumb your tears away. you close your eyes shamefully. “i’m sorry.”

“...you told me back then in the tent that there was no need to apologise, why?” you slowly open your eyes again to meet his, brows dipping with your frown. “i want to apologise, because i made a mistake. kazuha, i wanted with everything in me to say yes. but i made the stupid decision of betting on an uncertain future rather than someone i know would never let me down.”

something in his composure shifts in that moment,

“that day… i should have done more. i’m sorry for saying things i didn’t mean, and i’m so sorry for prioritising my future over your friend’s life.” your head falls, but kazuha’s hand slides to pick you back up again, just as he always has. he makes you look him in the eye, his gaze searching through yours.

at last, he asks, “is that how you see it…?”

“you were only a soldier, forced to see the effects of his choice.” kazuha’s tone is soft as he shakes his head. “there was nothing you could have possibly done without incurring the wrath of the shogun. even then, you did what you could to let me escape. you chose what you thought was best, and i would never fault you for that.”

“i could have at least tried to hear you out…”

“you could’ve.” he nods. “but your stress was the reason for your harsh words, and i am not one to hold such grudges. you were going through things i couldn’t possibly understand.”

kazuha’s hand doesn’t falter under your chin as he smiles. “do not fault yourself any longer. you have expressed your apologies, and that is enough.”

you can’t help but smile through your tears, a small laugh escaping your throat. all these years, and you were just going to forgive me when i cry?

his intent towards you is nearly crystal clear, but a curious inkling still remains in your chest, begging to be set free.

“kazuha,” your eyes leave his, lifting in what he can only pin as nerves. “could i ask you something?”

when he nods, there is a certain look that passes through his eyes. you have seen it many times before — in the way he looks at inazuma’s many colours of the sunrise, or how his eyes glaze over with rapt attention when penning a poem.

it’s the very same way he gazes at things that catch his attention, at things he deems beautiful. but, it is different when it is directed at you.

“when i first came to the resistance camp, you seemed… unsure.” you start, brows pinching as he watches you with slight amusement. “that changed kind of suddenly, so i was just wondering, did something happen?”

“well,” he clears his throat, dropping his hand from your chin to cover his mouth. the arm he lays around your hip still remains. “to put it simply, i had never changed. you merely brought out the parts of me that had remained hidden for a long while.”

“___, meeting you again, it—“

“yo!”

startled, you both turn back to the source of the sudden call. gorou stands impatiently at the foot of the hill, one hand on his hip and the other waving you towards him.

“we’ve been looking for both of you!” he shouts, but even from a distance, you recognise the knowing gaze that lands on kazuha’s arm around your waist.

they share a brief glance, and realising what gorou must be thinking, you push kazuha away gently and stumble to your feet. “sorry, coming!”

there is no reason to be embarrassed -- it’s likely that most people are aware of your circumstances by now, yet you can’t help how aware you are of his contact. it is romantic in the same way that he wears his friend’s dead vision along with his own, in how his thoughts consider everything around him. he touches you easily, as if he’d never forgotten a single dip in your body.

with a laugh of friendly disbelief, kazuha allows you to stand.

you had thought that the beginning of the celebration was the worst, filled with those either half-drunk or looking to speak to you -- neither of which sound particularly fun to deal with. yet, even in the short time you’d managed to slip away, the crowd had somehow managed to become an unsavoury mix of both. perhaps it was only alcohol that could provide the confidence to give you pats on the back as you walked by.

there is an incomplete feeling in your chest, one that you do not dare to dwell on. it yearns for the very thing that you don’t want to get involved with, that you don’t want to risk changing the nature of -- kazuha had only just accepted your apologies, and empathetically, at that. so, for such feelings to flare up so quickly afterwards, it is cruelly timed.

pulling your collar slightly loose to beat the flush that creeps up your neck, your heart drops as someone catches your gaze. amongst the dense crowd, kazuha looks at only you, smiling as if the two of you share a secret. you shake your head with a small grin.

in a way, you suppose you do.

as the rest of the night passes, the long minutes are filled with merry conversation and even more drinking, which you frankly hadn’t thought possible. yet, despite the headache it causes, you cannot deny the contagious joy it passes on. you truly do feel the effects of victory by the time you are dipping into your tent for the night.

your thoughts bubble ever so slightly, thanks to the alcohol that has been passed to your hand -- while not enough to debilitate you, it is certainly enough to place a content buzz in your chest. you take a short peek outside before tying the strings of your tent shut for the night. the camp is finally quiet, deserted of all activity in favour of the night’s rest.

with a drawling smile, you knot the fabric shut and fall back onto the cot. it is no mystery to you any longer why these soldiers do what they do, and why the resistance’s forces are hardly seen giving up. opening your eyes once again, a quiet, bubbling laugh escapes your chest.

you are at last fighting for a side you can be proud of.

but, you are awoken all-too suddenly. a hand reaches for your shoulder with none of its familiar grace, shaking you awake fervently. startled, your eyes fly open to meet the crimson gaze of your trusted companion, that of which is panicked and rushed. dread seizes your veins as he pulls you up, hardly considering your processing state.

above anything else, it is kazuha’s careless gestures that tell you something is wrong.

“kazuha!” your hushed whispers seem to barely reach him as he pulls you forward. as your eyes adjust, you see the majority of familiar faces rushing around in a similar way, to exits, to the hills in the north -- some even retreat further into camp. yet, one thing all of these people seem to have in common is that they are running, and they are running from something that is near.

his hand tightens around yours as he stops suddenly, gauging his chances between the actions of others.

desperately, you step forward and shake him. voice quiet, you ask, “kazuha, what’s going on?”

he looks at you from the corner of his eye, lips moulding into a frown.

“it’s the shogunate, they’ve stormed the camp.” the words that leave his mouth are shocking, but they do not particularly surprise you. your brows pinch in distress, but kazuha notices this, squeezing your hand before making a break for it. there is no time to hesitate. you run alongside him in silent understanding -- whatever kujou sara has come for, it can’t be good for either of you.

taking the same path you’d traversed earlier in the night, you aren’t thrilled to find it empty.

inhaling a sharp breath, you dig your heels into the sand in an effort to stop kazuha. he whips around questioningly, but yields when seeing your apprehensive expression. “what is it?”

face wrinkling with worry, you frown. “we need to be careful, there must be a reason why this path is deserted.”

“we don’t have any other choice--”

“that, you do not.”

another voice interrupts you, and you have to resist closing your eyes in defeat. the telltale appearance of the tengu warrior is more than enough to seal your fate. you’d escaped her once, and you doubt it can be done again.

kujou sara sneers, an awful sound that tells you everything you need to know. it was too soon to celebrate your victory against such a person.

“i was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt earlier, ___. but, you lied to me.” when she takes a threatening step forward, kazuha puts an arm across you. frowning, she ignores it. “not only did you think you could trick me by faking the fatui’s weapons, but you thought that you could trick the raiden shogun. this was your final mistake.”

kujou sara draws her bow before you can even process her actions. “i told you that i would come back for you. and i am here to deliver the news that you are no longer a deserter, but a traitor. consorting with the enemy and conspiring against those you ally with is not something that the shogun will stand for.”

she takes a decisive breath. “and i will not either.”

she lets go of the bowstring without remorse, the surety of the arrow cutting through the air.

you know immediately what will happen, but you are too slow to stop kazuha from stepping further in front of you. horror dons your features as the arrow pierces his upper chest, his body mindlessly protecting yours without even a word. kazuha stumbles before you with a reassuring smile still on his lips, head shaking as if to tell you he is okay.

but the grey fabric of his shirt quickly stains a gruesome red, suggesting otherwise. as kazuha drops to a knee in front of you, there is a gut-wrenching grunt that leaves his mouth. your mouth drops open in panic. it is one thing to see him walking away from you, but death is not so temporary -- if you let him slip from your grasp this time around, you will get no second chances.

swallowing thickly, a sheen goes over your vision as his hand reaches up to grasp yours. perhaps it is meant to be a comfort for both of you, but rather, it serves as a reminder. kazuha is the only person who had stayed with you continuously, regardless of how you saw each other.

his saccharine smile appears in your memory once more, and foolishly, you let yourself believe that you will see it again. you may not deserve it, but kazuha is someone that you cherish, and will not leave behind.

something sweet begins to bloom in your chest at that moment, and you release a breathless laugh of disbelief. kazuha has certainly never made things easy for you, though he is, at the very least, talented in unearthing your true thoughts.

as your lips thin, the reluctant notion goes through your head -- you are in love with kaedehara kazuha, and you cannot lose him again.

carefully, you help him fully to the ground, unaware of the hot tears that prick your vision.

“please,” you cry, messily shrugging off your jacket to wrap around the arrow that has pierced his skin. it’s the very same he had taped over when you’d first arrived, though it serves a much darker purpose now. there is nothing to secure it with but your shaking hands, though even they will become shortly useless. kujou sara’s presence is overwhelming. amidst the tears you shed and kazuha’s shallow pants, she is stone-faced.

“please,” you repeat shakily, a careful hand cupping his cheek. “stay calm, i can help you. we can do this.”

stiffly, he nods, and your chest tightens.

you shoot a furious look up at kujou sara, though you refuse to take your eyes off of kazuha for a moment longer than necessary. “he has nothing to do with this!”

there is a tinge of recognisable regret in her expression, though she attempts to hide it with the stern set line of her mouth.

looking away, she huffs slightly. the soldiers behind her ruffle at the sudden show of displeasure. “it was his own choice to shoulder the blow, not mine.”

expression twisting in anger, you attempt to stand — to pay sara her dues, to enact revenge on kazuha’s behalf, anything that would solve the seething irritation in your veins, you consider carrying out. yet, as you lift yourself up to one knee, a hand is quick to catch your wrist.

your expression droops as your gaze finds kazuha’s. his eyes on you are unwavering, determined to get a point across even as his voice fails him.

when he ascertains that he has your attention, he shakes his head in silent disapproval.

“stop, listen.”

your mind is in a state of buzzing static, yet you still attempt to follow his instruction. it’s a challenge to hear anything above the incessant beat of waves against the sand, though slowly, another prickling sensation begins to fade in. your head whips around at the abrupt pattering sounds, that of which are indescribable until gorou and a few soldiers in company appear in front of you.

startled, your light grip over the clothed arrow below kazuha’s collarbone falters. yet he still keeps his hand dutifully on your wrist, effectively stopping you from tipping backwards and taking him with you. more tears come to your eyes at the absurdity of it all.

“...are you alright?”

carefully readjusting your hands on the fabric over his chest, you watch for any ticks of pain in kazuha’s expression. when you find none, you let out a shuddering breath as you let your tears spill. for his sake, you croak out a laugh even as his worried eyes attempt to catch yours.

“i think i should be the one asking you that.”

in front of you, gorou engages kujou sara.

“have you no respect?!” he demands, throwing out an arm over the both of you. you shrink back under the pressuring atmosphere, tending to kazuha silently,

“this woman was one of your own for years, and yet you’ll throw her away so casually?”

kujou sara’s brow wrinkles. “you know nothing about her.”

“i know enough.” his expression is hard as he locks gazes with the woman across from him. yet, bravely, he is the first to break eye contact, turning back to address you while leaving his soldiers to fend off the tengu general.

gorou’s face melts into a more sympathetic guise the moment he meets your eye, throat tightening as he looks at his friend in the dirt.

as if unsure, he asks, “...can you get him somewhere on your own?”

readily wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you nod. “of course, yeah.”

gorou watches your hesitance as you murmur a few words of encouragement to kazuha where he lies on the ground. you seem reluctant to move him, though he is well aware it’s not because you don’t want to -- you are likely afraid of hurting him, even if carrying him to the side is well within your strength.

but, just as he steps forward to offer a hand, you surprise him yet again. sinking to your knees, the communication between you and kazuha is quiet but clear, resulting in the slow rising of your bodies together. your face is still red with tears as you take a peak back at gorou, though he returns it with a soft smile.

“go,” gorou says, helping kazuha by readjusting his arm to rest tighter over your torso. “i’ll let kokomi know you’re on your way.”

he lets you go as you nod.

it is a perilous walk back up to camp, filled with the silence and your hard breaths. you don’t have the heart to even look down at kazuha’s injury, but gorou’s promise to send kokomi keeps your hopes high enough. the only thing that keeps you going up the hill is the shaky breathing that reaches your ear, showing the man’s telltale signs of life.

when you reach the main rendezvous point of the resistance camp, you can't help but stumble to a stop. not even you are accustomed to carrying the weight of two bodies at once. looking around desperately for the pink-haired strategist, your heart drops when you notice that the area is completely empty, devoid of life.

“kazuha,” your voice shakes as you turn your head to peek at his expression. fear seeps through your veins as you realise how low his eyes droop, and how slow his reaction time has become. “kazuha, please.”

abandoning your plan of waiting for kokomi, you lower him to the ground where you stand.

crawling delicately over his torso, you settle over his waist before adjusting your temporary wrap -- the fabric of your jacket has been dyed a gruesome red almost completely through. sobs wrack your body as your mind goes blank, searching for a solution that you do not have.

“___…?”

your eyes shoot open at the quiet utter of your name. kazuha’s chest comes to life once again with fast breaths, eyes opening suddenly to hold yours.

chest freezing in shock, a lonely cry leaves your mouth as you lean forward to cup his cheek. “oh, kazuha. kokomi is on her way, you only need to wait a bit longer. is it… uncomfortable?”

you try to motion to where your jacket winds around the arrow tightly, but you can barely stand the sight of it. a knowing smile quirks at his lips as an unsteady hand comes up to lay over yours, brows knitting with pain.

“it’s enough for now.” he reassures.

lips thinning in an attempt to stop the tears that threaten to burst, you quietly admit, “kazuha, i can’t accept that.”

intermittently deciding to search for something else to cover him with, you take off another layer with a silent huff. it leaves you only in an undershirt, but any loss of your dignity is well worth kazuha’s life.

tying it slowly around the parts that seem to ooze, kazuha watches you with care.

“kazuha,” your lips thin into a line as you fingers weave through the knots, anxiety raising into your throat. “i love you, and i’m sorry that i can’t do more for you. but, i won’t lose you again.”

an uncharacteristic smile spreads across his lips, his forearm lifting to cover his eyes. but, despite the action, it is a sad smile; one devoid of expectation or hope. and it breaks your heart to look down at the wrapping over his collar and know exactly what kazuha is thinking.

“do you--” he stops himself, “do you know why i asked you to come along with me that day? in inazuma city?”

“no.” you shake your head.

the offer had seemed sudden, but rather than anything else, you had always thought to pin it as a reckless decision made after his friend had met an unfortunate end. seeing you in the uniform of the very god that had taken a life close to him, it was more than enough of an excuse to warrant such a thing. but kazuha’s shadow of a smile now suggests otherwise.

“…i merely couldn’t figure out another way to ask you to spend the rest of your life with me.” he admits, a sob lining his voice. softly, you shush him as your tears spill respectively. “all i knew was that i didn’t want to lose you to the shogun. we were only kids, but i loved you. and in some way or another, i have never stopped.”

a slight laugh poking through your resolve, you shake your head.

“then tell me again when you’re certain you can continue.” you say softly, sniffling as your hand raises to thread through his hair. kazuha’s forearm drops back to his side, and for the first time in a long time, you cry together.

kokomi arrives not long after, taking kazuha into her care almost immediately. there had been similar casualties on the other routes of escape, ones that she had already partly tended to. but, noting your frazzled state, she explains these things to keep you distracted rather than leaving you to your own devices. kazuha had since gone unconscious, confined to his own tent due to the nature of his injury -- while grave, the placement of the arrow had been a fortunate one. it lodged directly below his collarbone, but it was short of going clean through his lung thanks to only one rib.

you shudder to think what could have happened had kazuha been off even an inch.

there is nothing you can do but keep him in your thoughts. but, knowing that he is in the hands of a friend calms you. there is no one more capable than kokomi when it comes to piecing things back together, after all.

the sickbeds are nearly all taken by the time the sun begins to rise, filled with soldiers that had encountered the wrath of the shogunate. as you sit beside her, you share what kujou sara had said to you offhandedly.

“i’m a traitor in kujou sara’s eyes, and she came back for me.” you say, eyes still puffy from crying as you stare at nothing. “i should take responsibility for kazuha, it’s only the right thing to do.”

adamantly, kokomi shakes her head. “while this was inevitable, you were not the only one who assumed we were in the clear.”

with a slight sigh, her hands flex over an unnamed wounded soldier, hydro slowly healing the flesh wounds they had sustained. you watch her absentmindedly, shrugging.

“maybe so. but there was only one person who shot that arrow at kazuha.” you grumble.

countless times, you had debated telling kokomi about what kazuha had said to you, about the conversation you’d shared in what could have been his last moments. yet, there is something in the downset concentration of her eyes on you that tells you she has already guessed. kokomi clears her throat, shrugging a kink out of her shoulders.

“well, kujou sara is far away now. besides, i heard that wasn’t quite the case. rather than aiming for him, she aimed for you. but he had stepped in, isn’t that right?”

you sigh, “...gorou told you?”

a small smile curls her lip. “this is why i am confident when i say that it is not your fault. kazuha took an arrow to the chest for you, that is not something someone does on a whim.”

you wave her off as an embarrassed flush captures your face. kokomi chuckles, shaking her head as her eyes remain on you teasingly. finally choosing to spare you, she asks you to hand off some medical supplies in her stead.

the rest of your day is filled with similarly mundane tasks, things given to you by a variety of faces. there is no telling what they assume about your drooping state, but whether they pity you for kazuha’s sake, or find it in themselves to criticise you for your negligence, it is pointless to take it to heart.

yet when you finally have a free hand, you wish you could be back under the gaze of even someone who blames you. because, it is much worse to be left alone with your thoughts.

it’s what pushes you in the direction of kazuha’s tent initially. you had been avoiding it out of guilt, not wanting to see him in such a state despite all of kokomi’s reassurances that his condition is stable.

it’s not that you don’t believe her — kokomi’s word is law to even you now, and she would not lie to cushion any blows. but there’s something about seeing him that itches an insecurity in you, something that you can’t quite pinpoint until you’re standing in the tent, overlooking him.

we were only kids, but i loved you. and in some way or another, i have never stopped.

if he had loved you all this time, how many crucial hours had you spent thinking otherwise? hell, you’d been caught up in worries that he was plotting against you mere hours ago. all of the mistakes, all of the misunderstandings, you fear that you will never get that time back.

because while the colour has returned to kazuha’s skin, and the arrow is snipped down to a more manageable length, his life and your reconciliation still hangs in the balance so long as his eyes are closed.

taking a seat on the ground next to him, you mindlessly pull the blanket further over him. kazuha’s face is completely still, and betrays no secrets. you have not once been honest with each other, not until last night. it had taken the fear of death to push you together, but to think you relied on such an extreme—

you cut your thoughts off with the slight shake of your head. despite your blunders of the past, no longer are you at an arm’s distance, and no longer can your mistakes hold you back.

so long as kazuha recovers, you will take your second chances together.

keeping the image of his peaceful face in your mind, you head off to your own tent before anyone can wrangle you into something else. you are still apprehensive to the idea of wallowing in your regrets, so, you choose to bide your time with a more personal matter.

hesitantly, you pull a slightly crumpled envelope from the pocket of the bag you had brought along with you. it contains items you’d been too afraid to look at in the past couple of months — a ritou maple leaf laminated into a personal gift, enhancing potions you had received from the shogunate, even a yellowed picture of you and kujou sara sits folded in a pocket.

but, the envelope you search for is a more recently acquired item. addressed to you and neatly sealed, kazuha’s last anonymous letter to you glares from your hands. wincing in anticipation, you tear open the letter as you would rip a bandage from a wound. kazuha’s handwriting is small and neat, curving just as you remember it to.

to my dearly detested,

a smile tugs at your lips as you recall the joking nickname he had reserved for your letters, referencing your rocky ruse in a way only the two of you could recognise.

i hope this letter finds you in good spirits. even if your most recent escapades have failed, you will surely have another chance to best us soon. today’s subject is different from our normal topics, though, i do believe it is a necessary side to share with you.

you are well aware of my inclination to share things with you, so i will not hold back my offer to you this time. i am using this letter as an excuse to ask you to reconsider your position before there is no turning back. i don’t know how strong your ties to the raiden shogun are, and they may have grown stronger over these years, for all that i know. but if you are the same person i remember, it is worth a shot.

your lips curls into a frown. you had known your position for such a long time, yet your hesitance had kept kazuha in such a similar state of unawareness. just how long had he assumed that he would need to work from zero with you — that you were so far gone, the only feasible way to propose such a thing was through writing?

you have been forgiven for many moons now. while i wish to tell you this in person, it may very well be correct for me to assume that i will never get the chance. so, please, let me have your attention for one minute longer.

looking up with a frown, you bite into your nails with rapt nerves. you had somehow managed to misread the situation horribly enough to create an entirely new portion of setbacks. kazuha never acted hot and cold with you; he was only uncertain of your feelings on the matter. kazuha had even outright asked you if you had read the letter, yet foolishly, you had brushed it off as a jab.

closing your eyes, you groan into your palm.

if you are still reading, i thank you. for a long time, i was too bitter to even write to you. your words were heavy and carried weight that i doubt you were aware of -- i trusted them as if they were natural, even as i should have recognised your anger instead. while you were in no position to say such a thing, i was in so position to make such a selfish offer.

for throwing away so much time, i am truly sorry. if there is even a small part of you that anticipates these letters, that wants to smile as you read these words, please return. you may laugh at me, you may hate me for taking so long to say this. but, please, grant me the chance to apologise. i miss you. we have much to catch up on, but rather than merely saying that, i will look forward to hearing from you, no matter your choice.

the absence of a signature is for the purpose of privacy, but the small doodle of a maple leaf by the final word acts as a replacement. the lines are slightly shaky, as if he had been nervous when penning the drawing.

you make your way to kazuha’s tent fairly quickly after you finish reading, pocketing the letter carefully. as you pull back the tent flap, you’re surprised to see kokomi already beside him.

eyes widening, she tosses you a small wave with one hand. the other is laid delicately over kazuha’s chest, a tiny jellyfish made of concentrated hydro energy healing the larger parts of his wound. you quickly fall to your knees next to kokomi, watching her vision work with curious eyes. now that you are completely awake, it is a different sight.

it’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. if you look closely, you can almost pick out how the skin threads itself back together, gradually filtering out the blood that had dried in its place. there is a fine line of sweat on kokomi’s brow, though she seems to be making good progress.

“how long have you been at this?” you ask curiously, quirking a brow when she releases a nervous laugh.

“i haven’t been keeping a particular time, though i will do it as long as i have to.” kokomi nods. “not only has kazuha done so much for me, but i also cannot possibly let him go when someone is waiting for him to come back.”

your ears heat up quickly, and she laughs again, though the sound is considerably more joyful. “there is no need to hide such things from me. i’m only relieved that you have finally resolved your troubles.”

with the slight exasperated shake of your head, you shrug.

“well, i certainly won’t stop you if you’re so inclined.”

kokomi stays beside him as promised, and you talk well into the night, monitoring kazuha’s progress closely together. at one point, kokomi becomes too exhausted to keep up in conversation, though because she insists you keep talking, you inform her of what exactly had happened between kazuha and you.

you tell her how you had met him when he was still part of a noble family as a child. that after his clan was cut down, the responsibility of keeping him alive as a teenager fell to you, his old friend. you laugh with kokomi as you recount how kazuha’s first couple of years as a young wanderer were rough at best, but your fisherman family had been the people he needed to confide in.

“what a heart-warming story,” she muses, a small smile pursing her lips. you smile and agree.

but, the story grows dark fast. your sudden job with the shogunate didn't upset him in any way at first, but the day that his friend had died at the hands of the raiden shogun changed everything. you tell kokomi about the fight you’d had, his sudden affiliation with the resistance, the continous letters back and forth, even about his recent sudden confession in the face of death.

“and i suppose that is the long version of why we’re here today.” kokomi nods to kazuha’s peaceful face, before leaning back to shoot you a sympathetic look. “i’m so sorry, ___.”

you wave her words off, eyes trailing to kazuha’s collar. his kimono had been pulled down under his arm, as well as the creatively placed piece of armor over his arm removed, to give the healer a more direct point of access, and it gives you a clear view of his skin now. all evidence of an injury was completely wiped away in the tedious process, except for the faint memory of the arrow’s entry point, marked by a small scar.

“you’ve nearly completely cleared the wound.” you say quietly, amazed. “if anything, i should be apologising to you for all of the hard work you’ve had to do.”

kokomi’s smile is pleasant. “you’re very kind, ___. i’m sorry to hear about your circumstances, you both truly deserve this ending.”

nodding, a warm feeling spreads throughout your chest. you had made so much progress with the woman beside you, you are almost inclined to wonder how you ever saw her as an enemy at all. touched by her words, you return the smile. “yeah. i hope so.”

inevitably, kokomi doesn’t finish patching up kazuha until long after the sun sets. you both are dreary by that point, exhausted by the day’s respective duties -- yet, when she offers to walk you back to your tent for the night, you still refuse.

“i… want to be here when he wakes up.” you admit, slightly embarrassed as you let out a quiet laugh. her lips thin into a sweet smile as she stands up, wiping her hands together. it doesn’t take her long to understand, and sweetly, she leaves you with a wish of good luck.

as she leaves, you turn back to kazuha. he lays unobstructed on a tatami mat, chest rising and falling slowly in an unwavering beat, showing once and for all that he is alive, and he will live to see another day. you shiver as you reach for his hand that peeks from beneath the blanket. though, much to your dismay, he does not show any signs of recognising the touch.

the silence is deafening as you wait on and on for any further action from him, though after what feels like hours of nothing, you cannot help but succumb to sleep as well. you fall asleep with your head leaning on the sturdy fabric of the tent, kazuha’s hand tight in yours even the cold air of a draft circulates around you.

you wake peacefully this time around, the next morning arriving alarmingly fast. but, a silent coughing breaks you out of your stupor quickly. your heavy gaze attempts to adjust to the light as someone leans forward, running a light thumb over your brow.

“you’re finally awake?” the person muses, their voice tinged with a curious happiness. a smile melts your expression even before your vision clears.

smiling, you whisper, “kazuha… how are you feeling?”

“very well,” he says, hand dropping as his head tilts slightly with a smile. “thanks to you.”

giddy with relief, you waste no time in all but tackle the man in an embrace. though thankfully, he laughs along with your actions, returning your affections easily as his arms wrap around you. the blanket tangles around your intertwined limbs as you dip your head into his chest, careful to avoid his previously injured area even if it is healed - kazuha doesn’t seem to notice your superstition.

“you know, i finally read your letter,”

faltering slightly, kazuha leans his head back in an attempt to get a look at your face. begrudgingly, you let him take your chin in his hand. his brow quirks.

“and? your answer?”

incredulously, your eyes narrow teasingly.

“i refuse,” you begin, hand wandering up to cup his cheek. the adoration in his eyes that follows your actions, it is so pure, so unadulterated that it nearly knocks the wind out of you. “we’re obviously beyond saving, kazuha, can’t you see?”

a grin sits on kazuha’s lips as he pulls you to rest over him, brushing a lock of hair from your view as his eyes take in every last bit of your face. he memorises it like he might need to let go of you at any second -- though, remembering the contents of his last letter to you, perhaps the theory isn’t so far-fetched.

“i love you, ___.” he confesses to you gently, eyes gazing into yours with utmost trust. “and i will continue to for the rest of my days, so long as you let me.”

a pleased flush spreads across your face as you recall the promise you had made the night before, leaning down to let your lips hover over his. “i will, and i will love you back a thousand times over.”

kazuha smiles into you as he finally kisses you, capturing your lips in his with the power of a thousand unsaid words.

the cliche threads of fate are often loose; pulled thin by high expectations or strained by mistakes. people fall out, people become enemies, and those same threads go rotten just as fast as they had been created. but, the same cannot be said about the winds -- different to each individual, it is unique in the way it will endlessly connect two people together, regardless of the paths they take apart.

and the man who travels with the wind will never harm you.

genshin boys: taking you out on doomsday

“i was ready to watch the world end with you.”

character/s: albedo, childe, kaedehara kazuha, gorou, scaramouche, thoma, xiao

note: 500 special hehe :”)) setting takes place in the modern era, in the middle of humanity’s last war before the preordained end of time. inspired by various prompts,, and absolutely huge thanks to my mutuals for saving my ass on this 😩😩

+ so this is love — ilene woods !!

ALBEDO

knowing albedo, he’d take you out to a covert meadow of flowers — a truly refreshing change of perspective, other than the previously sickening sight of rubble and detritus, and the dizzying whiff of rising clouds of fumes. you had expected your lover to whisk you off into his provisional laboratory in hopes of concocting some last-minute solution, but you’re only greeted by the melancholic sight of a hunched frame carefully unpacking some art materials and a worn-out sketchbook out of his light baggage.

albedo wants to craft art out of you — one more time, he claims. wants to trace your endearing blemishes and lovely curves onto canvas, wants to smudge sundry hues of acrylics squeezed out of the last bits of his flattened tubes, wants to remember the rose-tinted glasses he’s seen and loved you through for the flamboyant and blissful half of his dreary trivial life.

he paints your smile — the one with the lovely little crinkles scrunched in the corners of your eyes — and with each graze of pigmented bristles on the pristine sheet, he still refuses to understand why you hated an endearing aspect of yourself with such disgust. (if he could reason your beauty in words, there would be no reason to paint.)

he paints the sky — the faint black strokes of launched missiles hastily whooshing by — captures your unmistakable gaze towards the ethers and reflected how the world burned before your eyes. warm tan and burnt white smeared over wilting flowers, splashes of brilliant orange and charcoal on abstruse configurations of explosions. (it takes every single ounce of his mastered talents to make the end more picturesque than reality proves itself to be.)

each cautious brush and curve across the canvas feels somewhat heavier than the last one — it’s almost as if he’s carving the distinct image on his fair skin, forcing himself to hold onto the last fragments of the old memory even when he treks towards the afterlife.

if only we could feel what we remember, albedo thinks as he slowly loses himself in the immersive and quiet little sanctuary of your dainty meadow, giving himself a few selfishly borrowed seconds of innocence and forgotten normality before the clock finally reaches midnight — and not just remember what we felt.

CHILDE

in the apocalypse, childe would most likely take you out on his own spin of a moderately romantic getaway…accompanied with the familiar yet questionably illegal faces of cigarettes, heroin and cocaine — every kind of narcotic you could dream of and perhaps even more, while scavenging through the abandoned pitstops and deteriorating establishments.

he’d take you to one of the less perishing roofs, and you’d swing your legs over the edge of the building, puffing out smoke rings while watching the blazing fire slowly creep towards the starry sky.

childe has always kept the habit of thieving your cigarettes as well — snatching them from between your fingers when you had let your guard down, and bringing them against his lips with a knowing smirk. “damn it asshole, stop stealing mine!” you chided with an exasparated frown, slapping his shoulder out of spite.

and he’d only laugh while listening to you bicker about your purloined stick, before eventually pulling you into his chest for a sloppy excuse of a kiss. the prominent flavor of smoke pervades through your senses, and he smiles when your shoulders slowly relax, between every latch and press of his bitter-laced appendages on yours.

to him, you’ve always tasted better than any other drug. it’s honestly no surprise to either of you how much of an addict your lover has grown to become, and willingly hold himself eternally prisoner against the saccharine flavor glazed across every inch of your plush lips. (childe, he hears you whisper.)

but he doesn’t listen — his hand reaches to possessively cup your cheek and pull you into a deeper kiss fueled with passion. (childe, it comes again, this time a bit louder.)

he doesn’t want to listen — he can feel his own tears begin to tumble down his pallid face. (childe.)

(wake up.)

and he’ll finally break away with reddened eyes, met with the lonely sight of a mere cigarette stick left beside him on the crumbling roof. he stares down blankly at the pristine and untouched narcotic — it usually takes him a minute or two for the situation to register in his fuzzy mind. but when it does, his slender fingers would tremble while he instinctively pulls out another stick from his box, and frantically ignite it with the small flicker of his lighter. (come back.)

it won’t always work quickly. he blinks a few times, desperately puffs a handful of rings — and all of a sudden you’re sitting right beside him again, in all your unparalleled beauty and contemplative countenance, studying the rampant inferno that was gradually drawing closer to your presently collapsing structure. childe shakily sighs in relief with a dazed smile, closing his eyes as he lovingly intertwines his grimy fingers with your unblemished ones. “haven’t you gotten tired of this already?”

i love you — is what he wants to say, one last time, as the air soon grows heavy with the impending thick fog of fumes. but it doesn’t feel right to do so…not when it really wasn’t you he was talking to, and perhaps not when the both of you knew he was already about to die alone. “you know they won’t let me in heaven with you, darling. this is all i’ll have left of you before doomsday is over.”

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

(3:00 pm.) spending doomsday together would begin with him stumbling perchance across an untarnished concrete picnic table, despite the frequent collisions of launched bombs and the clockwork ringing of bullets echoing throughout the open territory of the oddly blooming hill.

(3:15 pm.) you’d both lay on top of the table beneath missile-streaked sunsets befalling across the skies, wondering who had placed it there and if they had been in love the way you both were. he’d pick you little flowers and hid them in spots the world would forget about. he’d write you haikus and poetry — you’d ramble about forever like it had always been there, and still was.

(5:47 pm.) you could do anything with him for hours, all to pretend like the world wasn’t clearly falling apart today. but as the soft rumbles of thunder reverberated through the moderately darkening sky, your dreadful circumstances felt like an uncomfortable itch steadily creeping up your skin, all the more harder to nonchalantly ignore.

(7:32 pm.) kazuha’s eyes are fluttered close, and his chest heaves gracefully in light breaths. you’re not certain if you have enough courage to do the same — not when you could hear the faint crashes of a rising tsunami and distant yet blood-curling screams from beneath your little hill, spreading across the expanse of pulverized establishments and growing louder by every inching second.

(8:26 pm.) short breaks in between words drew out to become longer pauses in your hasty sentences. your thoughts are messy and filled with terror, and yet his warm thumb rubbing comforting circles across your hand makes the frantic voices in your head quiet down. it tears your brain apart even more.

(10:07 pm.) it’s closer to the end now — he thinks, as he takes deep whiffs of your lingering scent when you’re wrapped securely in his loving embrace, as his feathery fingers trace the dips in your waist and the corners of your hips, seemingly trying to ingrain the vague perfume and the familiar shape of you in his mind. he wonders if the gods would allow him to be so selfish, to somehow take the memories of it with him to the other side.

(11:42 pm.) the thunder is getting louder, but there are no more screams. perhaps it’s just you and him left — and perhaps that’s the way it has always been.

(11:51 pm.) when you stare into his intimate ruby irises, it feels like the first time you’ve seen them all over again.

(11:56 pm.) you know i love you, right?

(11:57 pm.) i know, it’s okay.

(11:58 pm.) “close your eyes.” he breathes for the last time, in the softest of whispers.

(11:59 pm.) you listen and do as he says.

(12:00 am.) the world ends, and his eyes are on you.

GOROU

“well, what are you waiting for?”

the only one among all the boys who is (literally) trying to take you out. his fingers lightly tremble against the bizzarre sensation of the trigger — even the slightest of trivial movements could release the bullets locked in his barrel and fly rapidly over to you.

the violet sky rumbles with faint flashes of lightning, as the murky mantle of thickening fog encapsulates him and you. condensed droplets aggressively trample down the fractured streets you both stood on — the coldness of the trickling liquid across his grimy features sends him into a phase of further contemplation. it’s certain that your blood on his hands makes him loyal to sangonomiya, but does it make him loyal to you?

gorou presumes you think you know where his priorities lie — it’s evident in your softened gaze and loosened stance on your own gun, clear that you weren’t willing to fight nor disagree with loss to such a cruel ending. and if only his heart were as cold and bitter as he pretended it to be, perhaps he could easily get over this.

but it’s quite warm and rather insatiable…too greedy for both loyalty and you, determined and hopeful to not let either of them go. you forget that emotions could be stronger than rationality.

“do it. shoot me.”

“you know i can’t.” his voice cracks at the end of his sentence, the words ache in his burning throat. it’s childish, he knows — to think there was room for love in the end of the world.

the heavens roar with a thundering scream. it sounds like his mind, it feels like his heart. pull the trigger — you coaxed with desperation — your loyalty to them matters more than yours to me.

the deafening tempest refuses to subside, raindrops falling hard and bristling across your faces…it was perplexing to distinguish salty tears from the mild-flavored downpour. but if one thing was for certain amidst the strident chaos, it was the unmistakable sound of a distinctive gunshot reverberating throughout the abandoned metropolis.

a silhouette staggers before dropping their previously wielded gun, ensuing a petrified expression from the other unwounded and gaping figure.

gorou’s final breaths are stolen with raspy and incoherent words — his bright face grows pallid and seemingly haggard from pressing hard on his bleeding abdomen. if i die like this, at least i’d still have both.

he watches as you begin to negligently scamper forward, however the faint trek of a group of footsteps cause you to abruptly pause in your tracks. you can feel something like tears slowly well in the corners of your eyes — as you anxiously glance back and forth from your fallen lover, to the direction of the sound of approaching strides, wondering what was the better choice to make between the two.

run — gorou eventually mouths with a fatigued smile, the salty flavor of blood dominant and permeating his sense of taste. i’ll see you on the other side.

you stare at him in horror at the heartless suggestion, but the resonant treads grow louder with each passing second. fear creeps into your skin as you hesitantly take one dubious step back, shutting your eyes and incomprehensibly cursing beneath your breath, before soon breaking into a begrudging run for it without ever daring to look back.

he waits for your familiar profile to completely disappear behind the veiled mist, and lets out a shaky sigh of relief when you’re finally gone, masking his face with a bloody hand, as his vision blurs and the deluge eventually fades into a softer drizzle.

“i suppose doomsday even knows my world still ends with you, love.”

SCARAMOUCHE

stargazing.

it’s boring, it’s pathetic — it’s a complete and utter waste of what little ticking time of trickling sands in the hourglass is left,

yet despite all contradictory and reiterated protests he could try and reason with all day in the back of his mind…the time offered left to him wouldn’t be more than enough to draw an ultimately rational conclusion. and so he’s here.

the vast meadow of grass is not as comfortable as the stories always picture it out to be. it’s itchy and pokes through the sheer cloth of his garments, crawling with hundreds of bugs and inconspicuous puddles of mud in tiny pockets of space, it teems with too much radiance and natural life that he wished he could just crush it all within his calloused hands. the brilliant fires creeping from a considerable distance didn’t make it the circumstances any better either — it only caused the temperature to spike drastically (if it clearly wasn’t scorching enough already), and it was getting harder to simply take fresh breaths in the presently polluted expanse.

it’s so annoying — he grumbles lowly to himself as his fingers lazily trace the skin of your waist in obscure yet soothing patterns. your warm breath fans across his neck with your head leaning against his shoulder, and it doesn’t help the irritating sensation of tightness in his chest…if anything, you were only making his stupid useless heart beat worse.

scaramouche despises it, loathes the fluttering emotions with every mere fiber of his body, abhors the way you always stared at him like that — when did your eyes begin to look so different to him?

“the stars look nice tonight.” you hum in a soft voice, childishly pointing up to the illuminated sky. indigo irises ignore the cries and beckons of a sliver of it’s unwavering attention — constellations intricately crafted from meager white dots were not worth admiring up at when he already had you.

“stop moving, idiot. you’re making this more intolerable than it already is.” he scoffs through gritted teeth, noticing the flickers of fire writhing closer to your shared and clandestine little area. he watched as streaks of pearl white began to paint the gloomy ethers, slowly descending as it began to build momentum within its scintillating plunge. (so it seems their doomsday has come too.)

a thousand times — he knew it all too well. that if the stars were falling and the ground was shaking and the world was finally ending,

“scara?” came a trembling whimper from your lips.

he’d still find you.

“i’m here, loser.” his sooty fingers cup your cheek for one last time, gently caressing the undefiled patch of skin beneath your lovely yet defeated eyes.

and he hates it.

“just look at me.” he breathes in a weakened whisper, affectionately brushing the tip of his nose against yours. “keep your eyes on nothing but mine.”

he hates that he cares.

THOMA

in an apocalyptic world, he would probably take you out on a nice little joyride through the abandoned streets of billowing smoke and debris — after successfully managing to hijack a broken-down scarlet convertible, situated inside a crumbling garage under the neighboring building.

it takes every fiber inside of you to not slap your forehead at the childish idea of it, however the mere sight of your lover awkwardly posing beside the dilapidated vehicle tempts you to burst out in a fit of uproarious laughter. thoma’s heart flutters at the adorable sight of you biting back a wide smile, and he holds out his hand to you with a flashy sweep and a charming grin. “shall we be off, my lady?”

“we shall.” you snicker, taking in his warm fingers as you both slide into the worn-out car seats, sharing giddy smiles stretched across your flushed cheeks.

thoma would drive with no particular destination in mind — he would simply pass through the places you both used to know, and you’d spend the last hours together talking in languages so old, so foreign, that the mere fleeting memory of it so long turned to dust.

he would navigate off into the sunset, and you’d find yourselves lying on the hood of your convertible which was parked on a secluded cliff — watching the sky burn, with wisps of smoke and fog spiraling in the faint distance, as you two tangled yourselves in limbs and wondered if either of you would ever find such warmth once more on the other side.

“it just us against the world, my lady.” thoma breathed hoarsely against your lips with a bittersweet smile, absentmindedly twirling his fingers through your soft locks of hair. “i suppose it always has been that way.”

you stared at your reflection in his exhausted and teary-looking eyes — the sight of your familiar soiled face and blasts of illuminance behind the expanse of viridescent trees, witnessing its violent detonations and the frequent crackles of lightning gradually creeping closer to your little field. the whole world was reaching its impending doom, and yet it still felt like the beginning of everything and nothing.

“forever and always.”

XIAO

for xiao, the world has ended many times for him and began again in the morning. he neither pays heed nor attention to it when doomsday befalls the universe.

he met you at the end of the world — when he nonchalantly ambled through deserted streets with a grocery bag in hand, and saw you hunched on the rubbled sidewalk with an oddly unperturbed countenance. one curt conversation led to another, and the next thing he knew, you had persuaded him into sprinting together through the stranded roads in silly hopes of making less shittier memories before doomsday was over.

more had happened in the span of two fleeting hours than the past monotonous weeks of his transient life. your mismatched pair had eventually proved itself to be a rather interesting combination — your candid yet welcoming personality growing on his usually reserved character (it feels like evergreen ivy crawling across his pale skin.), how you two had the ability to hold a drawn-out conversation without ever running out of subjects to ramble about (it feels somewhat familiar, like traipsing through a warm home that wasn’t supposed to be his.), the mere fact that the world has ended for you too many times as well…doomsday doesn’t seem to faze you either anymore. (it feels like you’ve known each other longer than this.)

but there could be other peculiar things about you and him as well — like the tacit and undeniably electric sensation of each accidental brush within both of your cursory fingers, or perhaps the lingering scent of you infused all over his disheveled clothes…or it could have been the sugary taste of strawberries on your candy-coated lips when he pins your frame against the shadow of the brick wall to kiss you. (finally — he thinks, after agonizing hours and numerous instances of staring for too long.)

to the dying universe, doomsday was the skyglow tinged ethers burning from the rampant inferno, smeared with nuclear weapons and blood-curling screams that swept throughout the perishing expanse. it was the distant rumbles of thunder and blinding flashes of lightning, the towering tsunamis trampling over meager establishments and intimidating skyscrapers, the singularly inevitable omen of death and impending doom for all of life itself.

to the two fools, doomsday was the perchance meeting at the end of the world, seeping through the vulnerable crevices of tightly secured hearts and tearing down lofty walls you’ve compelled yourselves to build after enough pain. it was the sporadic warmth emanating from intertwined fingers, the merging silhouettes of two perched at the tip of a thin cliff, the faint ripples of laughter and clandestine smiles exchanged while the stars went out.

doomsday signaled both the beginning of an end — and the end of a beginning.

so this…is love.

eternity with you

content: fluff, forbidden love

character/s: kaedehara kazuha

note: here’s to all the rest of the kazuha havers 💗 may you get him in the last few days!!

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I know.” His breath prickled against your skin, causing you to shudder at the trivial gesture. “I just needed to see you.”

As a wanted man in Inazuma, it had become difficult to constantly meet up with your lover in private for some quality time. This infuriating position forced you to keep your mouth shut about your secret relationship with the wandering samurai - because only the gods know what would happen to the both of you if word somehow managed to get out.

So here you were - face to face with your lover as you sat on his lap, his head resting in the crook of your neck with arms wrapped around your waist, while you ran your fingers through his silky platinum blonde hair. Kazuha had come unscheduled in the middle of the night - a few days earlier than he was supposed to arrive - and probably would have been caught by your father and dragged to the guards, had you not come up with a flawless lie in the last minute.

“How was your trip?” You ask softly, basking in the sweet aroma of fallen leaves that wafted from him.

“It was fine.” His muffled response came. “I wish you had come with me.”

“Me too.” You smile sadly, shifting your gaze to the full moon outside your window. You had desperately wanted to leave Inazuma and run away with your partner for quite some time now, but you couldn’t simply leave the family and home you grew up in - no matter how easy it sounded.

Kazuha knows and understands. And it bothers you that you couldn’t be braver for him or yourself.

For now, you would merely have to remain content with these sneaky little rendezvous that you both forever treasured in your hearts.

“How about you, love? Are you well?” He whispers against your neck, and your heart flutters.

“I’m doing alright. However my parents can’t seem to stop setting me up with a lot of men.”

He chuckles faintly. “How could I blame them? Look at yourself. You’re simply beautiful.”

A flush of red arises on your cheeks, and you scoff at his absurd words. “I can’t go and marry someone else, you know. You’re the only one I love.”

“Perhaps you should start dressing up in sacks then.” He murmurs, raising his head to look into your eyes. “Then maybe your parents wouldn’t need to sell off their unsightly daughter.”

You smile, cupping his cheek with your hand. “But then you wouldn’t marry me either.”

He shakes his head as his fingers gently trace unknown patterns into your skin. “You could never be unattractive to me, Y/N. I would marry you in a heartbeat if I could.”

His arm tugs on your body to pull you closer, and presses a soft kiss against your lips. You unconsciously tilt your head, savoring the taste of him after a tedious and long wait.

Your heart violently thumps in your chest upon feeling his tongue swipe on your bottom lip - probably asking for consent before going deeper. With tomato cheeks, you let his greedy desires get the best of him, as he swiftly parts your lips and devours you like you’re air and he’s been holding his breath for a long time.

Eventually (and regrettably for Kazuha) you break the kiss, and lean your head against his, as you faintly panted for air in the darkened room. You can feel his chest rise and fall - now truly taking in real air.

“I should probably stop before I lose what little restraint I have left on you.” He mumbles. His words stun you, and you watch in horror as his innocent smile contorts into a devilish smirk at your flustered face.

“When…when did you learn to act so bold?”

“You learn a lot when you’re surrounded by people on the Crux.”

Beidou - you think to yourself, embarrassed at the thought of her and her crew educating Kazuha on nasty subjects.

“Does it make your heart flutter?”

You choke on your saliva at his straightforward words. “I-uh...sure I guess.”

He smiles, pulling your hand up to place light kisses on your knuckles. “I’ve missed you. Very much.”

The corners of your mouth shift into a shy smile - and all of a sudden it feels like the first time you’ve kissed him and whispered that you loved him. “I missed you too. Let’s run away together soon.”

He nods, feeling his heart soar in his chest at your words. “Where would you like to go first?”

“Does it really matter?” You lean forward on his shoulder. “We could roam around the whole world, or settle down in a tiny house - I would be more than happy to spend eternity with you.”

Eternity.

Inazuma’s archon saw it as confinement of its citizens, dictatorship and everlasting power for its god, and the destruction of its people’s deepest ambitions.

And yet, the way you say it makes Kazuha want to believe again - that such a horrid and feared word could sound so beautiful as it tumbled down your lips and fluttered about in his heart.

“Eternity…I like it.”

Perhaps this eternity you both sought for would eventually come in the next few years - or simply arrive the following cloudy morning through a knock of the door in the form of Beidou.

Wherever it was, it would someday turn up along your way…and when it did, you wouldn’t bother to hesitate in its face once more.

But as for tonight, you decide to settle in his embrace under the comfort of your warm duvet, as he holds you close and lulls you to a tranquil sleep, with hazy muffled whispers that dream of forever under the sakura leaves.

Eternity with you…doesn’t sound so bad.

I'm a sucker for calm, sunshine-y characters going berserk upon seeing their loved ones hurt. Can I request Kazuha and Thoma rescuing their kidnapped s/o from treasure hoarders, only to find them bruised and beaten? Tysm ❤️ And congrats for 145 followers, you deserve ten times more!

close your eyes for me.

masterlist!

# — pairings: thoma, kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, thoma, kazuha, ayaka, beidou, treasure hoarders

# — summary: he doesn't want you to see him like this.

# — warnings: violence, blood mention, minor character death, injuries, kinda ooc thoma

# — tags: drabble format, angst, kidnapping and rescue, revenge, hurt/comfort (physical), fluff

# — notes: anon, i really, really, really like your taste :D i actually almost made myself sad writing thoma's.. i love him dearly :( as always, reblogs and reactions are always appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!!

✧— 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚 — ✧

thoma doesn't panic right away when you don't arrive on time.

you were supposed to meet him at komore teahouse for a date; you two made it a routine to have dates there at least twice a week whenever he had the time. it wasn't normal for you to be late, but you'd told him in advance that you were coming from konda village after staying there for a few days, since your parents lived out there. thoma told you to be careful on your way, since there were wandering ronin and treasure hoarders on the outskirts of the island.

"i know you can handle yourself just fine, but," thoma's green eyes swam with concern, "if you come across them, try not to fight, okay?"

you patted his cheek twice. "alright, you big worrywart." you laughed when he perked up a little and leaned in to kiss his nose. "i'll try my best."

thoma wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck, preventing you from pulling away. "do you promise?" he said lowly.

you hummed, an enamored smile parting your lips. "i swear i'll be as careful as i can. if i come across any danger, i'll get away as quickly as i can."

the two of you made a rule early on in your relationship that promises were to be sealed with a kiss, so you kissed him twice for good measure; once to seal the promise, and another time to keep him from whining. as charismatic and confident as thoma may appear, he was actually quite clingy when it came to you. you thought the two kisses would be enough, but thoma doesn't let you go.

"not yet," he murmured against your lips. "just a little more."

you chuckled. "you're so greedy."

as the minutes become hours, thoma's stomach starts to sink. was something wrong? did something happen to you? did you get into any fights and lose?

"no." thoma denies quickly. you wouldn't lose -- you couldn't. call him biased but your strength was unparalleled; you wouldn't let some random treasure hoarder best you. he closes his eyes as he thinks about you wielding your claymore against a mob of attackers. you handled your weapon with so much grace that people often thought it weighed nothing. thoma's about to lose himself in daydreaming about you when a worker of the teahouse appears in the entryway.

"sorry to intrude," she says with a bow, "but i received a letter for you. it was delivered by a suspicious individual, so i came to you right away." in her hands is a yellowed envelope, the edges of which seemed to be burnt.

thoma struggles to keep his expression even as he takes the letter. only when the employee is gone does he allow himself to be swept away by the waves of anxiety. he doesn't have to open it to know that this is a ransom note; this wouldn't be the first time he's seen one. he removes his headband and tentatively removes the seal and pulls out the letter.

the first thing that catches his eye is the large stain on the paper. bile sours thoma's tongue when he works out what it is.

the blood -- your blood -- has already started to oxidize, the stain taking on a rusty color. you must have been gone for far longer than he'd thought if that was ths case. thoma works his fingers through his hair as he reads the contents.

'two billion mora,' the letter reads, 'or they die.'

"two billion." thoma echos. he puffs out an incredulity. you were worth so much more than some two billion mora, but as comforting as that thought was, he knew the kamisato clan didn't just have that much money lying around. even if they did, as a retainer, it wasn't his place to ask for such a large sum anyways; his reputation amongst the staff was very good, but it can't possibly be that good. he makes himself sick just thinking about ways to preserve his reputation while you were missing.

as much as it pains him to do it, thoma tries to go about this rationally first. his body is itching to scour every nook and cranny of jinren island (since your abductors were kind enough to tell you where they were -- probably for ransom delivery), but he knows he would achieve nothing that way. plus, he'd likely be outnumbered. thoma smiles bitterly as he puts his headband back on. who cares about being outnumbered? he needed to see you safe and sound sooner rather than later.

he gets back to the kamisato estate in record time, where he heads straight to ayaka. she's having tea with ayato when he sees her. if this were any other day, he'd feel bad for intruding; the siblings don't get much time to see each other due to their respestive duties, but this -- you -- were far more important.

"thoma, you look exhausted," ayaka comments as she stands and makes her way over. he'd tried to keep a level head as he traveled, but he must have tried to sprint all the way here. no wonder his chest was burning. "you look about ready to pass out. is everything alright?"

thoma doesn't respond right away. he can't, not with how tight his chest feels. his breath comes in short and shallow. he pulls the crumpled letter from his pocket. he'd crushed it impulsively after reading it. ayaka tentatively takes the note from him and gasps when she realizes who exactly was missing. there was only one person that could make him panic like this.

ayato approaches next and reads the note. his face hardens and he crumples the paper back up. "i don't believe we can spare that much mora," he says through grit teeth, "but if i explain the situation to the tenyrou commission, then--"

"that's very kind of you," thoma interjects, "but what would people think of the yashiro commission if they found out you were doing all of this for a mere retainer?"

ayaka looks cross. "you're not just a retainer, thoma." she rests a hand on his shoulders, squeezing gently when she feels trembling. "you are like family to us; you know that."

thoma inhales sharply. he's already past his limit. he hasn't felt this helpless since he first arrived in inazuma all those years ago. he really didn't miss this feeling. ayaka's heartfelt words do very little to soothe him. because while it's always nice to know that he's got a family within the kamisato siblings, he also has a family in you.

but you're not here.

molten tears sting his eyes, but he blinks them back before they get the best of him. thoma's never cried in front of anyone before, and he didn't want to start now. "i appreciate it," he says after a while, offering the siblings his most grateful smile. "but i think i'll go and get them on my own."

ayato puts his foot down. "absolutely not. you're far too valuable, thoma; going there alone would be a suicide mission, and i refuse to endanger you like that."

"then you can rest easy; you're not the one putting me in danger." thoma feels a bit of his usual energy return to him as he give ayato a reassuring smile. "i'll be endangering myself."

"that's not--" ayato sighs harshly. he rolls his shoulders back -- a sign that he's admitting defeat. as expected yashiro commissioner, he's likely already thought ahead. he can't stop thoma. they both know it. "very well. come back safe. do you understand? that's an order."

ayaka nods and steps beside her brother. she doesn't look like she agrees, but there's not much she can do now. thoma supposes it's for the best. he gives them both a grin before accepting the order and leaving a bow. as soon as he exits the room, the smile drops from his face. he was going to head straight for that island without wasting another second. "i'll be there soon." he mutters to the open air.

getting to jinren island took a lot longer than he hoped it would.

it was so far off the coast of narukami; he could see why it was a gathering place for criminals. thoma hadn't been very subtle in his arrival, so he's greeted by about four treasure hoarders, two of which held large shovels. after doing a quick sweep, thoma notices that none of them have visions.

good. that makes this a lot easier then.

thoma raises his hands in surrender. "gentlemen." he greets with his most diplomatic smile.

"where's the mora?" one of the bulkier men demands. he growls when thoma clicks his tongue.

"now, now, don't you boys know how negotiations work?" he chides gently, like a parent scolding their child. "especially when something as precious as another person's life is at stake... has no one ever taught you this? let me confirm that they're alive first, and then you get the money."

the treasure hoarders aren't as stupid as he was hoping. one of them shoves a blade in his face. thoma doesn't flinch.

"boss says that that's not how it goes."

"do you not trust me?" thoma raises a brow before jerking his head in the direction of the boat he came in on. "if you don't believe me, then by all means, feel free to check my bag."

the criminals locate his bag easily. they lift it with some difficulty and hear the familiar jingling of what they assume is mora. thoma has to bite back a mocking laugh when he realizes that they didn't even check the bag; they just thought he brought mora. content with the "ransom", they escort thoma further onto the island.

there's a wooden cage in the center of some platform on a hill, and more treasure hoarders standing guard around it. there's more wooden cages, but since no one is near those, it's safe to assume they were empty. when thoma finally steps onto the platform, he sees you.

you're crumpled on the floor of the cage, your body curled in on itself. it looked like you'd passed out while clutching your stomach. thoma blindly sprints towards you and glares at a treasure hoarder until he opens the cage. the door swings open, and thoma's by your side in an instant, fretting over your unconscious body. you don't wake when he shakes you, and bile rises to his mouth again. he tilts you to get a better look at your face, and--

"how long were they here." thoma doesn't recognize his own voice. he gingerly wipes the fresh blood from under your nose with his thumb, grimacing when he feels some more dried blood crumble beneath it. your breathing shallow and stuttered, and thoma feels rage beginning to simmer. you have a black eye and there's both dried and fresh blood caked to your forehead. you have a few deep cuts on your cheeks that have clearly been treated with very little care, and as thoma's eyes trail down your body, he sees violet and yellowing bruises extend down into your clothes.

the rage grows to a boil in no time. "i asked how long they were here." thoma speaks again. "answer me."

a scrawny treasure hoarder nearby shrugs. "about three days."

that's exactly how long you were gone for. you must never have even made it to your parents.

thoma's about to summon his spear when a deep groan bubbles out of your chest. his anger fizzles like a spark dampened by water as he watches you wake up. "hey, hey." he whispers, his smile fragile as your eyes flutter open. his heart crumbles as he sees you try your best to focus on him, especially with your bruised eye. "good morning, sunshine."

his attempt to keep you calm doesn't work. you hardly get to rasp his name before you're coughing violently, tears forming in your eyes as you do. you can't seem to stop, and the very sensation only seems to worsen the pain. "what are you--" you're interrupted by your own coughing again.

thoma shushes you gently. you must have a broken rib. "i came to pick you up. you were late for our date, you know." he's trying so hard to remain calm, trying to keep himself sane since he's finally found you, but when you return his weak smile and he sees the blood staining your teeth, the rage reignites itself.

"took you long enough." you wheeze. your eyes lose focus again. "you're a little blurrier than i remember you." you try to joke.

thoma doesn't laugh. he knows you're trying to put him at ease, but it's not working. it's not going to work. he slips away from you and rises to his feet. "that's fine, baby. get some more rest for me, yeah? let me finish up here and then we can go home."

the treasure hoarders around you two sense something’s off and brandish their weapons, pointing them at thoma, whose got his own polearm at the ready. "what do you think you're doing?!" one of the men yells.

on the ground, you call thoma's name. "w-what's going on? what are you--?"

your boyfriend turns around for a second and gives you his sweetest smile. even with hazy vision, you can see the playful shimmer of his emerald eyes. "sleep for just a little while longer, baby." he faces the enraged treasure hoarders again, his voice dropping to something you've never heard before. "i'll be quick."

(he wouldn't know until it was over, but you had actually passed out as soon as soon as he told you to sleep. it wasn't so much that you were obeying him, but more that you physically couldn't stay conscious any longer.)

thoma doesn't think he's ever fought so viciously in his life.

he swings his polearm to the side, relishing in the cracking he hears as he knocks over two treasure hoarders. he makes quick work of the potioneers, bringing the base of his polearm down on the backs of their heads without a second thought. they crumple like ragdolls, and for a split second, he wonders if he killed them. he wanted to kill them -- he wanted nothing more than to skewer each and every one of these bastards and fling them into the ocean -- but if anyone were to find out what happened here, it would only complicate things.

he tries to avoid killing the remaining few, but not without stabbing them in non-vital areas with the blade of his weapon. one of the treasure hoarders has the gall to beg for mercy. "funny," he chuckles, swiping the blood off his cheek with a thumb, "i'm sure my lover said the same thing."

the last treasure hoarder gives him a hard way to go. the rest of the shovel holders went down pretty quickly, but this one clearly dwarfed everyone with his size. thoma assesses him very quickly and nearly succumbs to the darkest thought in his head.

someone had to die for this. one body wouldn't hurt, would it?

his next thought halts him in his tracks, nearly getting his head crushed by the burly treasure hoarder. as nice as it would be to kill at least one person, screw the commission -- if you found out, what would you think of him then? thoma makes up his mind quickly and inserts himself into the fight once more.

after a lengthy struggle, thoma finally manages to jam his polearm into the treasure hoarder's thigh, bringing him to his knees. thoma finishes the fight with a solid crack to the back of his head, knocking him out cold. he observes the mess he made and nods to himself. this felt good; giving them what they deserved. he makes his way back over to you.

you're exactly where he left you, curled on the floor of the cage. thoma picks you up as gently as he can and carries you back to the boat he came in on. he's about to rest you down when he sees two more boats coming in, both bearing symbols of the kamisato clan.

ayato and ayaka were on one boat. even after he told them not to, they came to assist him. the other boat held a few samurai to arrest the treasure hoarders. ayato helps thoma carry you onto their sturdier boat while ayaka strokes your head to keep you asleep amidst all the commotion. her touch is feather light, and it works to keep you asleep.

maybe it works a little too well, because the next time you open your eyes, you're in a bed.

you wake with a start, desperately sucking in air as if you were drowning. you regret it immediately as your lungs and ribcage scream in protest. a large set of hands is on you quickly, the one on your back rubbing soothing circles. you slap it away quickly. "don't touch me, i-- thoma?"

any fight you managed to muster leaves your body at the sight of your boyfriend by your side. there's dark circles under his eyes, shadowing their usual forest green color. "hey, stranger. you feel any better?"

your shoulders droop and you reach over, holding his face in your hand. thoma leans into your touch, holding onto your wrist for dear life. he practically nuzzles your palm with closed eyes, waiting for you response. you're so shocked by his behavior that it takes you a minute. "how... how long was i asleep for?"

thoma's eyes open, but not all the way. "about 36 hours. you..." he sighs, clearly bothered by the information. "you got roughed up pretty bad. how do you feel?"

"i feel like death, but did you sleep?" you brush your thumb over his cheek, your heart cracking when he sighs, content. "you must have been so worried, thoma, i'm sor--"

"don't," he snaps. he catches himself, murmuring an apology. "don't say sorry. no, i didn't sleep much. i was just-- i was worried you'd disappear again. last time you left my sight, you..."

every word seems to take more and more energy out of him. you may be the injured one, but thoma's distress has to be the most painful thing for you right now. love works so strange sometimes. you move your hand and run your fingers through his hair. "i'm not going anywhere again, okay?" you giggle lightly when thoma nearly purrs at the feeling. "look at you. you're like a giant cat."

"i'm your giant cat." he smiles then, and you see a glimmer of his usual self start to show. you know you mean a lot to him, but to see just how much is almost overwhelming. "i love you. so, so much, you know?"

"yeah." you grin. maybe you'll heal faster with him by your side. "i know. now go get some sleep, thoma. i'll be here in the morning."

"...you promise?"

you beckon him towards you, remembering your usual promise tradition. he leans in and you peck his lips, laughing when he starts to pout. there he is, you think. there's your thoma.

"i promise."

✧ — 𝐤𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐡𝐚 — ✧

kazuha will never forgive himself for not being the first to notice your absence.

it's beidou who brings it up first. it had been a few weeks since the crew made a stop in liyue harbor. everyone went their separate ways; some to visit family, some, like kazuha, to explore the surrounding areas. you and kazuha had gone your separate ways two days ago since he decided to venture further out, but you had responsibilities aboard the alcor.

"are you going to set sail with us again?" you finally mustered up the courage to ask. you were on edge all night, caught between asking kazuha to just stay with you and letting him go. you knew he was a free spirit, and you feared that once he started on his journey, you two would have to part ways for good.

kazuha crossed the room and sat beside you, his head tilted in question. "are you afraid that i might not?"

you nod wordlessly. it's embarrassing enough that you had to ask; you probably sounded clingy, and you knew how much kazuha hated it, even if he never said it out loud.

"...it seems like you've come to a conclusion without me. may i pick your brain, my love?" he nudged your shoulder with his.

it was impossible to keep secrets from him. you knew this. kazuha's observation skills were second to none, even when it didn't involve nature. you decided to confide in him, knowing that your relationship wouldn't grow unless you communicated. "i'm just worried that you might not return."

kazuha hummed. "if it's my combat skills that youre concerned about..."

"no, no, it's not that! i... i feel like once you leave, you'll find that you're happier out there." you swallowed down the unwelcome tightness in your throat. "you're a wanderer, kazuha, and i'm bound to the alcor. i'm scared that after this little break, you won't want to come back."

kazuha, stunned by your vulnerability, blinked a few times. even though you valued communication, you still struggled to talk to anybody, including him. he looked at you a little longer, trying to figure out why you would think he would ever leave your side.

it's true that he's a free spirit, but even the wind has to settle sometimes.

"dove," he said, taking your hand in his own, "i could never leave you for long." he chuckled at the look of mild disbelief that you gave him. "to me, it sounds as though you thought i would be upset with you for asking me to stay."

"i don't want to stifle you." you confessed. "i love you too much to do that to you."

kazuha made a small "ah" noise. he got off the bed and stood between your legs, tilting your head so you could look up at him. "ask me to stay." he pursed his lips for a moment. "on second thought, tell me to stay."

it wasn't worded like a question. you hesitated.

"i love you as you love me, perhaps even more so, if you would believe me." kazuha's hands explored your face gently, fingers smoothing over your eyebrows or lightly pinching at your nose. he had the most lovestruck smile on his face, and it made you flush. "i would do anything for you; i would grow roots and stay by your side if you'd let me."

"of course i'd let you!"

kazuha leaned down. "then tell me." he whispered. "tell me to stay. wherever you go, i'll go; wherever you stay, i'll stay. to the ends of teyvat, my dove, i would follow you anywhere."

this wasn't what you had in mind when you made up your mind to talk to him. you felt as though you were a child with a crush all over again, growing more and more flustered by the second with how close kazuha was to your face. he kissed your cheek. "go on, dove. say it."

"kazuha..." your heart sat in your throat, and the lump you suppressed earlier returned with a vengeance. "i don't know, i--"

your lover kissed your other cheek, his ruby eyes encouraging you to answer. you hated that you were so conflicted over this, but if he grew to hate you for forcing him to settle down--

"you're not forcing me," kazuha said. your face burned as you realized you said that out loud. he kissed your lips this time. "you're so lovely, my little dove. say it."

your walls came toppling down a lot easier than you expected. the pros of having kazuha around greatly outweighed the cons, and if he ever did wish to go his own way, then that was a conversation he would most likely have with you. he wouldn't just abandon you without a word. so you tell him.

"stay." you barely had the word out before kazuha kissed you, stealing it right from your lips.

"again." he murmured.

"please, stay."

kazuha pressed light kisses all over your face, drinking in the giggle you gave him. "as you wish."

you had little difficulty parting with him after that. reassured by the promise of return, you flew through your tasks aboard the ship with ease as you waited for the day kazuha returned.

but when he did return, you were nowhere to be found.

kazuha knows that he shouldn't blame himself for not being able to find you first, but he does anyways. he wasn't the first to board the alcor -- beidou was. when he got there later that morning, she pulled him into her cabin and slammed two things on the table. it was a dagger and a sheet of paper with demands scribbled on it. he didn't have to read the contents to know what it meant.

"i couldn't find them when i got here," she sighs, her arms folded tightly over her chest, "so i asked any early crewmates but they said they haven't seen them either. then i found this stabbed into my door."

kazuha's jaw jumps as he tries to find the proper words to say. he now understands how you must feel whenever you're trying to stop yourself from being crass with people who you dislike. his eyes flutter shut. if he looks at that letter any longer, he'll have much more trouble containing himself. "what does it say," he asks flatly. "who is it and what do they want?"

beidou, who seems equally as pissed as kazuha, reads the ransom note again. "they want all our valuables, so... my guess is treasure hoarders. how did those scummy bastards manage to organize something like this in the first place?"

how, indeed. it's a great question. kazuha doesn't care for the answer. "is there a location?"

the captain squints. "don't tell me you actually want me to surrender our supplies." if she were anybody else, that would come across as her prioritizing materials over your safety, but kazuha knows her better than that. he can see it when he opens his eyes. "it says they're near qingxu pool. there's a bunch of abandoned homes out there, so--"

"will you assist me, captain?" kazuha's not the brash type, never one to interrupt someone midsentence unless absolutely necessary, but beidou takes no offense to it. his expression is blank -- too void of emotion to be normal. needless to say, she gets why he's being a little impulsive.

beidou herself isn't one to dive headfirst into situations like this. as the captain of the crux fleet, she is not only responsible for overseeing the crew's behavior and the ship's maintenance, she is also a diplomat meant to keep the peace.

but she, like kazuha, is also a fighter. her answering smile is sharp. "i'll go inform the crew that we're gonna delay our departure."

once technicalities are out of the way, kazuha and beidou exit liyue harbor and walk towards the designated location. the trip is silent as kazuha tries to imagine all the ways this could go.

if he found you and you were unscathed, then he would have no trouble taking you and leaving. treasure hoarders like these don't have the means of following you. if you had a few scratches, then maybe he'd have to get physical.

an intrusive thought gives him pause. what if this was a trap and you were already dead?

"kazuha." beidou's voice makes him jump. she's stopped walking as well. they're finally here. "just know that whatever happens in there, i don't blame you."

kazuha runs her words through an internal translator right away.

"if you feel the need to kill someone, then go ahead."

it's sickening, feeling like a rabid dog on a stray leash. but never, not once in kazuha's life has he ever experienced something like this. he's a bit lost in the motions. he follows closely behind beidou as she approaches where the treasure hoarders are holding you captive.

your kidnappers did a horrible job hiding you. kazuha and beidou find you slumped against the concrete wall, your hands bound by some flimsy rope. neither of them make a sound, nor do they move to free you right away. it's not the presence of poorly hidden treasure hoarders that's got them frozen in place but rather, the that state you're in.

dried blood cakes the wall behind you, smeared a little bit above your head and trails down to where the back of your head rests. a rainbow palette of bruises paints your arms and face, and there's blood on your forehead and at the corner of your mouth.

kazuha reaches for his sword without a moment's hesitation. beidou stops him. "not yet." she warns. then, "we know you're there! come on out before i come and find you myself."

surprisingly (or not; treasure hoarders are pathetic excuses for human beings), the kidnappers come out. there's a large number of them, but that, too, is to be expected. they provoked the woman who took on the haishan alone and a samurai whose skills they knew nothing about. their cooperation may be a ploy, but a head count is pretty helpful.

"fourteen," kazuha says aloud. seven shouldn't be a problem for him. he's encountered more enemies on the run.

"where's the goods?" a skinny treasure hoarder asks. "we told you we'd kill them if you didn't bring what we asked."

beidou shifts her posture once before summoning her weapon, resting it on her shoulder. the entire room crackles with the tension of an upcoming battle. "touch them one more time, and i'll have to get my hands dirtier than usual."

her threat does nothing. a treasure hoarder next to you pushes you with his foot and you groan. you're alive, but--

"kazuha, wait." beidou commands.

kazuha didn't even realize he'd drawn his own sword. you once praised him for his exceptional restraint and ability to keep himself cool under pressure. he skims your body once more and notices that something’s... off. something’s missing. "their vision." kazuha finally speaks. "where is it?"

a treasure hoarder to his left laughs and pulls your anemo vision from his pocket, waving it around tauntingly. "you mean this thing?" he sneers.

the flashbacks happen so fast that it nearly blinds him.

the sight of his best friend being defeated right before his eyes, his cracked blade falling at his feet. his vision flying through the air, devoid of its elemental glow.

the hysterical cries of people who had been robbed of their visions -- their ambitions. the rainbow that projected onto the ground in inazuma city during mid-afternoon, the sun reflecting off of the confiscated visions.

there's a flash and a clang before something -- the treasure hoarder's severed forearm -- hits the ground with a dull thud.

your vision now rests safely in kazuha's hands. "yes," he replies to the treasure hoarder he unknowingly attacked, his agonized screams falling on uncaring ears. "this thing."

beidou mutters, "fuck it," before charging at the seven treasure hoarders on her left. her powerful strikes are audible as she swings her claymore. kazuha cradles your vision as he takes on the remaining six treasure hoarders.

if you were to ask kazuha what happened that day, he probably wouldn't be able to tell you. not because he's ashamed of what he did, but because he really and truly doesn't remember.

adrenaline and molten fury give kazuha the strength he needs to cut down each of his opponents. he doesn't miss a single one -- doesn't leave a single stone unturned. each treasure hoarder he encountered met the same fate. when there's finally one treasure hoarder left, kazuha doesn't kill him right away.

"in your next life," kazuha seethes, his voice foreign to his own ears, "you will die another death by my hands." he silences the treasure hoarders please by dragging his sword across his neck, and like that, brings the fight to a close.

kazuha peers down at your vision, which is still pulsing with life. you may be incapacitated, but perhaps this was your way of giving him strength. when he sees blood smeared on the shell, a twinge of guilt starting to grow. "you said you wouldn't blame me." he says as the adrenaline seeps out of him. "do you think they would--"

beidou slaps the back of his head, shutting him up. "please, they'd have started fighting a hell of a lot sooner than you did." she looks him over once before looking down at herself. the two of them are covered in blood, none which was their own. "ugh, let's go. there's doctors that can treat them on board."

kazuha cups the back of his head with a quiet hiss, but follows along anyways. he heads over to you and picks you up as gently as he can, careful not to upset any wounds you may have that he can't see. "i'm sorry i didn't come sooner, dove." he whispers. "i'm so, so sorry."

when you finally wake up, it's to the sound of seagulls. you shoot into an upright position, but your vision starts to swim and you feel the need to throw up. you lean back on the headboard. what the hell happened? why did you feel like someone ragdolled you into a wall? you close your eyes and try to listen to the crash of waves outside. at least you were on the alcor -- maybe you should try to remember what happened until someone came in. the door opens about 45 minutes later, and you're greeted by a familiar head of platinum hair.

it's kazuha.

he rushes over and kneels at your bedside. your lover doesn't say anything for a long while as he cups your hands and bows his head away from your sight, his shoulders shaking slightly. thankfully, you managed to recall what happened in the two days you were apart, so you can't blame him for being this way. he must have been scared stiff.

the only thing you can think to say in the moment is, "welcome home, kazuha."

his shoulders still for a moment before starting again, but this time, you can hear soft laughter. kazuha looks up at you, his eyes teary. "i'm back, dove," he says, pressing your hands to his forehead. "i'm back."

"did you miss me?" it's a cheeky question, and probably a bit calloused considering what happened, but you both needed a smile right about now. kazuha's smile grows, and your heart flutters.

"more than anything." kazuha kisses the back of your hands, the gesture laden with affection and longing. "a day apart from you feels like an eternity, my star."

you chuckle. "never have truer words been spoken."

kazuha pushes himself off the floor and sits on the bed near you, holding your face in his hands. you're sure you're still swollen and bruised; you must be unsightly and yet kazuha's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky for him. he leans forward and rests his forehead on yours.

"you are my everything." he declares softly. it's like a prayer to you and you alone, spoken a space inhabited only by the two of you. his words are sacred and special, and you soak in every last one. "the brightest star in my sky; my universe."

you're starting to get dizzy. he must have been terrified by your absence. "kazuha--"

his lips cover your own and you melt, unable to resist him. "i adore you." he says when he pulls away. "i always will."

you cling to those words like they're your last lifeline. "and i, you." you say in return, shutting your eyes when he kisses you again.

✧ (whew! this monster grew bigger and bigger as i wrote it! i got carried away again,,, but! i do hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!)