Reilliane - Blog Posts
Resolve ★ Kazuha
— ★ Scry: Solar Scintilla + Kazuha — ★ Genre: Platonic + Fluff — ★ Concept: There are times when he wakes up crying and cold, but those are quick to dissipate after remembering that he's been blessed with fate's mercy. — ★ Words: 3.6k — First Part: Vigil — ★ Blood A/N: Although the scry didn't explicitly state to be in Vigil's universe- 'solar scintilla' is an invitation- I hope anon dear didn't mind eeeee— read the first part (original) for context!
“Nee-san, come look!”
“My, what’s this?”
Little Kazuha beams as he shows the contents of his paper, watching his older sibling try to make sense of his drawing, “It’s home!”
“It’s pretty—but I don’t see a house?” [Name] flips the parchment to look at its backside, but there is nothing.
“There’s no need for one,” he smiles, “Because us two makes a home!”
A samurai lives with honor and vigilance, striking down foes with a wayward strike of a blade.
Known weaknesses are to be overcome and be a root of power, and with each descent of a comrade in the battlefield equates to honoring their death and trudging on to triumph over the war.
This creed is held above all for those who wield the sword, and Kazuha is no different from it.
It becomes his reason the moment his hand burns with the transient blaze of his friend’s Vision—becoming his purpose as he flees from Tenshukaku.
He has rooted deep into his heart the reality that he will have to respect Tomoaki’s decision. Accepted that he will honor him by bearing the now masterless Vision in hopes that one day, something greater will trounce that vicious lightning.
That passing shall be his source of strength, he will proceed with his own war.
But he later realizes with grave denial that he is far from being prepared to live by the code of the samurai.
“You…” a broken whisper in the cold.
He is not ready to march on his battlefield alone. It is an inopportune time—a cruel hand of destiny, a devastating turn of events. He did not want this.
He doesn’t want to honor this.
“Have to leave me.. Kazu..” a tiny plea lost to his ears.
Underneath the eternal squall that plays a part in fate’s cruel thesis, the fugitive runs with only the wind and his resolve as his incentives.
The lasting echoes of numerous bellows make him run faster.
But the heavy rain lags him down. The stormfall minutes ago has at long last begun to pour its tears, crying for a tragedy that is minutes away from reaching fruition.
Not if he goes against it, though.
Another murmur resounds, more desperate than ever, “They will catch you..”
The burn in his chest, the ache in his limbs, the mist in his eyes—why is it that even his body is going against his will?
Why must even he fall victim to this tragic play?
“I’m only slowing you down.”
He can’t allow it—no, he won’t allow it.
The boat is close—he has managed to outrun the shogunate, there is no way he’s stopping now.
The arms around his neck start to unlink themselves, letting go after the realization that he will not bend to the wish to let go. Feeling the deliberate loss of security on his person, he begins to panic.
Stop it. He can’t pause midway to move his sister from his back into his arms, there’s no time. Stop it… !
Amid the cold, he feels warmth seeping into the fabric of his already soaked clothes.
It’s his kin’s blood.
And just being here, bare in the watching eyes of life, trying to rescue someone who—despite is knocking on death’s door—still thinks of him in her last moments, makes him rasp out a sob he’s been trying to keep at bay.
“[Name], please just let me save you,”
His voice gets muffled by the rain and the shouting, but he knows his sister can hear him well, what with the responsive twitch of her fingers.
I cannot let it end like this, he thinks after recalling how bright [Name] had been when talking about the future. You cannot pass like this.
Why is that when he has finally started to reach back for the fingers that have grasped his—they are withdrawing farther and farther from him? Is this the universe’s reprisal for his negligence?
For knowing only how to lament and regret when everything is already too late?
“Please..” he tightens the hook of his grip on his sibling’s legs.
I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just please—please don’t take her.
Though he doesn’t remember when his thoughts begin to overpour with his grief, nor does he know who listens to his prayers, he doesn’t care.
Don’t take my sister from me.
He cries, “I can’t lose you, too.”
“…”
The sound of the rain is all that there is, but he doesn’t let up.
In all honesty, he believes that his voice no longer reached his sibling—that he’s far little, too late, and the hope inside is dying- but then he feels quivering hands latch onto him again.
Weak, barely even noticeable—but he does notice, and he almost cries out in utter relief, but he knows the battle has not ended yet.
He does not stop moving even after he has gently set the lady in the boat and he moves to push it in the waters.
Does not let his aching muscles ease as he summons a burst of wind that helps propel them forward and guide them in the direction of Yashiori.
Everything is a blur to him afterward, though he does remember his tremors as he overlooked the paling form of his sister and her open wound.
He remembers arriving at the shore near Fort Fujitou, having barely escaped the arrows from passing the shogunate stationed at the borders of Kannazuka.
No matter how hard he tries to cling to his sense of reason, the mix of hysteria and panic is enough to conquer rationality.
It’s still raining when he takes his kin into his arms to race towards the resistance camp some distance away.
But he has overestimated his body—before he knows it, his legs have given up on him and he falls onto the sand.
The horror that gnaws at his conscious intensifies after seeing his sister’s body roll away, followed by a feeble yet sharp groan of pain.
Washing away towards the rolling tides near them is a dull hue of red, darkening to crimson.
An endless stream of blood.
But what captures his focus the most is not the stream, but the pair of [c]s and the hand that is reaching out.
The unpleasant telltale of disquietude tears out raw distress and he almost breaks back into tears seeing his dying kin reach for him.
With newfound resolve and clawed fingers against the sand, Kazuha pushes himself up—only to collapse, the strain on his body too much to overcome.
His vision begins to blacken and—no, no, no, no.
I can’t, not now.. ! Even moving his arms have gotten so difficult, but he keeps on struggling- keeps on fighting. I’m so close… someone..
He mirrors the action, hand reaching forward to the distant figure of his sister in a silent cry of desperation. Please-!
But his vision finally fades to black.
Nee-san… !
Kazuha gasps, resurfacing from the ghoulish clutch of the night’s terror with a lurch from his bed.
His hand is hanging in midair, reaching for nonexistence—at least, now that he’s awake, there is nothing he’s reaching for.
Still at the crest of consternation, the dropping of his arm is slow, like the turning cogs and gears in his mind that start to make sense of what’s happened.
Another—another awful nightmare. What’s the count again?
Oh, who is he kidding, he no longer is able to take count of it.
It’s always the same dreamscape whenever he escapes to his slumbers, the fear, the denial… he still feels them even after waking up.
A raw wound—an eternal scar.
He tries not to think much of it, knowing that there’s nothing to worry over now.
But all that greets him when he closes his eyes is the blood—the spear, the time of impalement, and he all but throws his covers away in mild annoyance.
There is no way he can sleep now. That is basically just inviting the nightmares again.
With unease nestling in his still racing heart, he makes the decision to leave his cabin as silently as possible—so as to not wake those who sleep in the same room.
The rest has had enough of waking him up when he’s stuck in those horrible terrors and couldn’t for the life of him open his eyes.
The timid rock of the Alcor as it continues its voyage in the sea thankfully gives him some peace of mind, though it can never replicate the comfort provided by the elder Kaedehara.
He ascends to the main deck where he sees Beidou behind the wheel, her good eye leading him to the starboard.
Sitting upon the barrels nearby is none other than his sibling, who seems to be stitching something under the light of the moon.
His chest immediately surges with relief. She’s alright.
Sometimes, all he really needs is the reminder that his resolve did not fail him—that his fear can be put to ease knowing that the [c]-eyed lady is still alive.
“Oh, Kazuha, you can’t sleep?”
He shakes his head at this, almost embarrassed, but the understanding smile on his sister’s face tells him that everything is fine.
She pats the space next to her in a wordless invitation and the samurai doesn’t hesitate at all, taking the chance to revel in the comforting solace.
The latter realizes that the fabric being worked on is the scarf, its golden trim being fixed.
“What has gotten you up?” her voice is as kind as ever, already on the precipice of giving succor if need be.
It has the kind of cadence that will urge one not to lie even if it’s for the sake of not worrying her.
Perhaps he didn’t notice that he has failed to respond as quickly as usual—or maybe it’s because his answer is already known before it can form into words, for a hand is already laying upon his wrist.
[Name]’s expression is blunt with understanding.
“Oh, Kazu,” her murmur is soft, almost lost in the evening wind, “It’s okay. I’m here.”
The way his taut limbs go lax at the gentle reminder he so desired to hear is almost pitying, but he can’t be bothered to care.
Closing his eyes, he takes in a sigh of relief, grateful for the wind’s gentle caress.
The comfortable atmosphere proceeds without any interruption, the ambiance only being the breeze’s encapsulating sound and the sloshing of the tides against the hulls.
“You need not be scared any longer,” he opens his eyes after hearing his sibling speak, turning his eyes towards her—though she’s still engrossed with fixing the scarf.
“Do you remember when you came back to Inazuma to fight alongside the Traveler?”
Ah… he hums, letting his memory reel in the scenes just a few weeks ago, “Of course.”
When he blacked out by Fort Fujitou after his dire escape from the city, the General has found and taken him to camp. [Name] has been personally treated by the Divine Priestess and.
Kazuha has never been so grateful in his entire life.
Just being able to recall the miracle—the shred of mercy, the saving light in his darkening world—is enough to drive him back to tears.
In a rather dismaying case, however, he still has to leave the camp. He’s a fugitive then, after all, and he couldn’t bear to endanger the Resistance.
He left with a promise to help overturn the tides when he returns with more allies and swears to grant them any favor, be it big or small, in exchange for keeping his sister safe.
[Name]’s comatose forbade them from saying goodbye.
It hurt—and his eyes still stung when he left, even still when he came across Beidou.
He recalls attempting to reawaken his friend’s Vision as a way to lift himself up from the cliff of his negativity, and thus he met the Traveler, whose journey requires them to head towards the land of eternity.
Kazuha wished to step down from the Alcor then but knew it to be a reckless move, so he kept himself patient.
How can he forget the moment his feet stepped onto the shoal of Nazuchi when the time has finally come to battle against the forces brought by Kujou?
And in the aftermath of the battle, when they have succeeded and will return to camp, he can’t ever lose the memory of his speeding heart.
When Kazuha looks at his sister now, he can only envision the second he sees the same silver hair standing out from the crowd weeks ago.
[Name] had been treating the wounded and had just finished passing the bandages when their eyes had met.
The world is a blur after that. Nothing else mattered other than the tight embrace shared between them amid tears.
If he dwells on that memory for a while longer, he swears he can feel the warmth from that hug.
“You know, I’ve always had my doubts about leaving Inazuma,” [Name] stops with her work, setting the materials aside as she lifts the newly stitched scarf with a smile.
Kazuha hums, not expecting the divulgence. This is new.
He never really knows how his wanderlust is perceived, so to say that he’s intrigued is more than correct.
The scarf is lowered back onto [Name]’s lap as she caresses its fabric, her smile turning more nostalgic and despondent.
“Because all my life, I’ve devoted my time to making sure that you’ll grow up in a place that you can really call home,” with a wistful tone, she continues.
“Sometimes I even thought of marrying into one of the renowned clans if it means helping to restore the Kaedehara’s honor and give you the luxury that we lost. Leaving means forgetting my purpose.”
He is a part of that purpose.
His first outward reaction to this is to flinch.
I.. wasn’t aware of such plans, he swallows thickly. All this time, you’ve been doing everything for me.
Perplexed, he turns to his sibling, grasping her by the arm and taking her by surprise.
“You needn’t do such things… !” he breathes out in concern, worried that this mindset carried over until the present, “I am beyond content even with the way things are now, you—”
He zips his lips and bites down on them. You needn’t sacrifice more of your happiness for my sake…
[Name] pats the hand on her arm in a gentle fashion, reassuring, “I know, that is why I joined you. I had a time of repose and epiphany when we reunited.”
She takes a few moments for herself, letting nothing but her [c] eyes speak of the hundred of words she cannot utter in a second. Still, it eases the samurai.
“What you said as I was treating your wounds struck me a lot… do you remember it?”
He does, with perfect clarity.
Kazuha had been drowning in the words and emotions he’s suppressed that when he spilled even a portion of it, the dam was breaking.
He refused the healing offered by the Divine Priestess to be treated by his sister, instead.
And when they’re alone—he finally spoke of it.
“In the first suns and moons following the fruition of my wanderlust, it’s been lonesome,” he remembers the words as if he said it yesterday.
“For although a haven has been provided by the Crux, I’ve come to realize that I am not entirely delighted in my travels.”
He remembers [Name]’s look of confusion—because why would he be not content when his wish was to travel all along?
He remembers the way her hands gently tremored at the notion of another departure, remembers the look of loneliness in those eyes- that he just falls silent again and allows his memory to reign free.
“’It ails me to know that I left home’,” [Name] chuckles, “That’s what you said before asking me to join you.”
“I apologize for my selfishness, but—will you join me?”
He purses his lips with a nod. Because I’ve learned that you are my sanctuary—and I can’t bear to leave again.
“I realized then that perhaps leaving wouldn’t be so bad, not when my little brother is there with me to make it worthwhile.”
Kazuha watches with slightly wide eyes as the black and red scarf is placed on his person, snuggling around his neck in a perfect fit, complementing his attire.
“After all,”
Because the last time he was given this same article of clothing, he rejected it. Oh, was that such a foolish move of his.
[Name] gives him an endearing smile.
The same one she gave him when she woke him from his nightmares, when she told him to come back safe in the night—when she only thought of his welfare as she pleaded to be left behind so that he can escape.
“Us two together makes a home.”
He is instantaneously swept over by a wave of nostalgia.
It has his fingers rising to clasp the scarf around his neck, wary that if he chooses to hug his sibling, it may hurt her.
Eyes glossing and heart weighing—because even after all those years, she still remembers that—, he shakes.
Nee-san…
Although he does not say anything, [Name] nods, welcoming his wishes with the slight opening of her arms.
Kazuha does not turn away from this, scooting closer and making himself comfortable in the loving embrace.
The fact that he’s no longer a child does not even faze him in the slightest—in fact, he wallows in his own grief within it.
How could he have ever turned a blind eye to his only sister when all that she’s done was for him alone?
He made mistakes at a heavy cost, nuanced changing behaviors that progressed arguments and yet—
A tear slips past his eye. And yet you still honor and accept me.
It’s this heart-wrenching realization that bolsters the samurai’s resolve to do right this time around. To cherish, to respect, to be grateful.
He swears upon himself, as he’s lulled to sleep by the brushes upon his hair, over and over again.
I will return all that you gave me.
“Anchors!”
The Alcor is beginning to dock and as usual, many are waiting by the pier for various reasons—perhaps a returning loved one, or foreign goods.
Regardless, everyone’s faces are full of mirth.
It is rather contagious, but Kazuha doesn’t need its influence to work up a smile of his own. His reason is already standing by him.
“So this is Liyue…” a murmur of awe and disbelief, “It’s beautiful… what will we do here?”
To ease his stiff neck and aching shoulders—to sleep on mere barrels whilst sitting was uncomfortable but worth it—he rolls them a few times, taking an ample amount of time to respond.
Not like it’s a bad thing, he actually doesn’t want to impede his sister from admiring the harbor.
“Aside from a few commissions I plan to take for earnings, I wish to show you all that I’ve explored in the meantime.”
This will be the first time he’ll take up commissions.
It’s a new feat but not something he’s not willing to do. If this is to be any other case in which he’ll travel alone, he will simply make things work even if he has to sleep outside and hunt.
But now that someone is traveling with him—someone who has allotted all her time for his sake and growth—he will turn to… proper means of living.
He’d hate to make this any harder than it is.
“I’ve heard of some festival in a few days’ time, as well,” he informs as they bid farewell and thanks to the crew, at long last stepping onto the harbor of a different nation.
It almost feels surreal to watch [Name] take a step—almost hesitant as if she’s still in disbelief—forward, turning her eyes to all possible directions in muted excitement. Seeing it is rather bittersweet.
He hasn’t seen her this happy—and he didn’t expect himself to feel just as jovial. Oh, what a wonderful feeling this is.
“I heard of glaze lilies and dandelions, oh, it’d be a sight to see them.”
Dandelions?
Kazuha hums at the familiar sound of the flora before nodding, “Ah, those are found in the city of wind. A neighboring nation.”
“Mm..”
He knows that distant look anywhere. It’s almost foreign. He hasn’t seen it in a long time but still knows what it means—perhaps, this is because they are siblings.
You’ve always kept silent about your own wishes because you’re prioritizing mine, he sighs. That won’t do now.
“We can visit if you so wish.”
The way those [c]s flash alight with a gleam so beautiful and liberated makes him stop breathing for a moment. Happy.
Nee-san… his voice is lost. For a second—it seems like they haven’t surfaced from great troubles and everything is fine.
“Truly?” [Name] smiles, radiant and blooming and alive.
Feeling his heart warm with gratitude—for the universe’s mercy—and ease, Kazuha allows himself to smile.
Oh, who is he kidding?
“Of course.”
As long as they are together, there will be no rainclouds.
“That’s lovely! Oooh, I’m rather excited—but wait, we must eat first! I overheard some people talking about a restaurant, let’s go!” [Name] claps before darting into the crowd.
Kazuha buzzes in shock, hurrying after her with a call of, “Nee-san!”
Just a reviving bond, a pleasant journey…
“I understand your eagerness, but please do not rush so suddenly,” the samurai sighs, much to [Name]’s giggles.
“My bad, but! It seems like we found what we’re looking for. Shall we?”
The older Kaedehara begins to amble through the sea of people again and Kazuha follows, his fingers pinching the ends of his sister’s sleeve.
... And a loving home.
a/n: at long last... the alternate ending.. A HAPPY ENDING! FOR KAZUHA AND NEE-SAN .·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·.
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