#kazuharem

[kazuharem]

"Panacea" ↠ Xiao [FLUFF]

"I'll hold you when things go wrong, you're the reason I believe in fate" Characters: Xiao x Reader (Implied Fem) Genre: Fluff Word Count: 4,100 Warnings: Reader is implied female because the recipient is female -> mentions "she" and "her"; also includes lines taken from Xiao's story quest + Lantern Rite Festival A/N: This is my birthday gift for the biggest Xiao simp I know: @seerie / @wisteriea! Rie, happy birthday! I know it's way past your birthday, but I hope you had a great birthday! I am so honored to be your friend and I hope I did your favorite adeptus justice. I wish nothing but happiness and winning 50/50s for you!

Special thanks to @tartagilicious, because without her threat of logging into my Genshin account and leaving my characters to die, I would've never found the motivation to finish this piece (I finished your challenge with 5 minutes to spare)

Yes, this is a repost -> my tags are not working so please help me out

Reblogs are much appreciated! 🙏

PANACEA, Πανάκεια: Greek, (n.) a cure for all ills; a solution for all problems or difficulties

"Can you feel where the wind is? I'll hold you when things go wrong I'll be with you from dusk till dawn"

A lone figure stands off in the distance. It’s late, far too late for any creatures of this world to be awake, and yet, the figure is the exception. The moon illuminates his surroundings, casting his shadow onto the sleeping world. He grips a verdant spear tightly. Voices of despair whisper endlessly inside his head, but he merely grits his teeth, ignoring them. Xiao is used to this.

At some point in time, there is a word that comes to mind which perfectly encapsulates Xiao’s position. The people of Mondstadt call it Weltschmerz, or “weariness of the world.” Those who knew Xiao well would agree that fighting demons for many millennia would make one weary of such a world. And yet, Xiao perseveres, despite such weariness.

A quiet sigh escapes Xiao’s mouth before he leaps silently into the air, igniting his battles for the night. The battles that he fights are unknown to most of Liyue, however they are of the upmost importance. Each is only another step towards keeping the malevolent forces from invading the very city that Rex Lapis had so painstakingly built.

When the sky begins to tinge pink, inky stains slowly fading into soft hues of oranges and reds, Xiao makes his way home. No, not home, he corrects himself, merely leaving the battlefield. He cuts a weary line through the reeds of Dihua Marsh, exhaustion lining his features.

The voices of anguish start to overpower him in his drained state, and Xiao stumbles. He clutches his head as he drops his spear. A choked gasp leaves him. Xiao curls in on himself on the ground.

Join us! The suffering you have wrought upon us! Feel it! Die!

The whispers turn to shouts. Agony overwhelms him, pressing in on him until he can no longer breathe, and it begs. It tempts to give in, to dissipate into the darkness that had felled the other Yakshas.

Suddenly, lilting notes of a flute carry over the mountains to reach his ears, clear and pure. It dissolves the anguish, the cries. Silence had never been sweeter. It’s a respite Xiao had never experienced. Just as quickly as the pain had crept upon him, it disappears with the sounds of the flute being carried off by the wind. Xiao pants as he stands, leaning on his spear for support. He pauses to get his bearings in order. Someone with that kind of power could only be-

Xiao shakes his head. It is not his business to meddle in the affairs of the Archons, and he grips his weapon to carry on towards Wangshu Inn.

That was the first time Xiao had ever felt relief from his karmic debt.

The second time, many centuries later, is when he meets you.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

How the two of you meet is purely by chance. You were helping out around Wangshu Inn since the owner, Verr Goldet, had helped you out in the past.

Seeing how the stars were out, you had decided to go up to the roof to take a brief break.

Xiao is on his way to wage the wars like he always does when he stops in surprise. It’s quiet. Around this time of night, it’s usually quiet, but this time even the voices inside his head seem to have quelled. Brows crinkling in confusion, he doubles back, and that’s when he sees you.

You’re leaning against the railing, enjoying the gentle evening breeze.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” A curt voice has your eyes snapping open in an instant.

Whirling around, you come face to face with a pair of amber eyes, glowing even in the dark. Verr Goldet had mentioned of him, the adeptus who leaves in the middle of the night to fight unimaginable battles. Xiao, the vigilant yaksha.

“Adeptus Xiao,” you bow in apology, “I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

Xiao steps out from the shadows, lithe like a panther, and just as silent. “You know of me,” the scowl on his face is severe. You nod, “Then you should know not to hang around me. Leave. Now.”

“Wait-” But before you can plead your case, Xiao is already gone.

“You’ve already met Xiao?” Surprise crosses Verr Goldet’s face when you inquire about Xiao the next day, “That’s not bad. It’s not often he’s in a good enough mood to agree to see people.” She laughs softly, “But you mustn’t be too disheartened. Slaughtering the souls of so many spirits has racked up enormous amounts of karmic debt for the poor fellow. It’s not his fault he’s usually so brusque. He’s in an immense amount of pain.”

Your heart squeezes in sympathy at her words. The idea of anyone being in pain for thousands of years is not particularly appealing to you. “Is there any way to relieve that pain?”

Verr Goldet shakes her head sadly, “Human medication doesn’t work on the adepti. However, he might be in a better mood if you give him a bowl of almond tofu. It is one of the few human foods that Xiao likes.”

And so, with great care, you make a bowl of the silkiest almond tofu, and carry it up the stairs.

“Xiao? Adeptus Xiao?” You call it out softly. It’s only a matter of seconds before the leaves of the potted plant rustle next to you.

“You’re back,” displeasure is evident in the catlike eyes. Xiao glares at you. “I told you, mortal souls are not as robust as those of adepti, nor can your blood carry this level of adeptal energy.”

“Ah, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” you offer the bowl sheepishly, and notice the way Xiao’s nostrils flare. “I just made some almond tofu and was wondering if you’d like some?”

A muscle in his jaw twitches, “Are you trying to bribe me, mortal?”

Panic crosses your face, and for some reason, Xiao finds the action almost amusing. He presses his lips together. “No! It’s nothing like that! I just heard this is your favorite and I wanted to make it for you as an apology for disturbing you last night!” The explanation is rushed, words tumbling over one another.

Xiao crosses his arms, “Fine, I accept your offering and in return, I’m willing to protect you. But don’t think about getting close, and stay out of my way, or all that awaits you is regret.”

He leaves you that night with these words, an oath.

If you cannot bring yourself to kill – speak my name If you awake to a knife at your throat If monsters dig their claws into you If death comes knocking at your door Call my name, Adeptus Xiao I’ll be here when you call

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Ever since that fateful night, the two of you do end up getting close, much to Xiao’s chagrin. You were curious to know about him, and keen to find a way to alleviate his pain. And for Xiao… Every time you came into his vicinity, the screams of agony would mysteriously quieten. He couldn’t understand it, nor could he figure out the mechanics. But he could not bring himself to part with you either. The silence was addictive, calming. And unknowingly, he begins to enjoy the moments that he spends with you, with your incessant chattering that should be an annoyance to him. Xiao would never admit it, but the sound of your voice soothes him, just like how the sound of the Dihua flute did many centuries ago.

The few people that Xiao had unwillingly let into his life began to notice these changes about him. Whenever Xiao was with you, or had just spent time with you, while still reserved, he appeared much more relaxed. They deduced that it was all due to you. Whatever your methods were, they were not interested. They were simply happy to see the adeptus no longer in pain.

Without voices screaming in constant pain inside his head, Xiao became less terse. But if you or anyone mention any of these changes, Xiao would instantly revert to the Xiao of before. So people would take great care in not teasing the adeptus, lest he unleashes his anger once again.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Are you really not going to see the lanterns?” You trail helplessly behind Xiao as he makes his way up to Wangshu Inn’s balcony.

“No,” his answer is clipped, “I am not partial to crowded areas. Especially at this time of the year.”

“But…the people of Liyue are celebrating the adepti for saving their city. You’re one of the heroes,” you try to argue.

Xiao scoffs, annoyance thick in his voice, “The Lantern Rite is nothing but a time for humans to discard their glowing trash into the sea. I’d rather not witness it.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, “What if…I want to go with you?” the confession is hushed as you flush.

There is a silence that follows after your words. Xiao finally stops to look at you, “Why would you want me there? I’m…nothing like those people. Too long have I spent slaughtering, accompanied by the burden of suffering that follows in its wake. Crossing paths with all those jubilant people will only make me…” He trails off, lips thinning when he realizes what he said. Xiao jerks his gaze away.

“…Xiao…” your voice is sad, and he immediately bristles.

“Don’t you dare pity me,” Xiao scowls.

You raise your hands in defeat, sighing. “Then can you at least keep me company on the way to Liyue?”

He eyes you suspiciously, and when he deems you honest, he nods. “Fine, but only to the city. That’s it.”

True to his word, Xiao wordlessly escorts you to the outskirts of the harbor, before leaving you with a gruff “Stay vigilant.”

Unbeknownst to you, after he sees you off, Xiao retreats to a distant hill. There, he sits with a weary sigh as he watches over the city.

Humans were such silly creatures, believing that writing down words on pieces of wood would make their dreams come true. Xiao could not fathom the way mortal minds worked. It’s tradition, he supposes. Humans like tradition.

With another sigh, he begins to wait for the sky to darken. Because come every Lantern Rite, there is always an abundance of evil spirits taking advantage of the joyous occasion to wreak havoc. And like always, it is up to Xiao to vanquish them.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Hello old friend, this is a pleasant surprise,” a deep voice sounds behind him and Xiao stands up respectfully.

“Sir…” he greets the former Archon.

Zhongli waves a hand, “It’s nice to see you at the Lantern Rite Festival, however…it seems as though the young lady isn’t with you.”

The casual mention of your name causes Xiao to flush, and he makes to leave, a puff of annoyance escaping his mouth, “I only made sure she arrived in the city safely.” He squirms under Zhongli’s knowing gaze.

“Hold on,” the simple command bides Xiao pause, amber eyes widening slightly in question. The elegantly-clad man smiles, “It has been a while, surely you can spare me a bit of your time. Come, let us chat,” he invites warmly as he casts an arm over the city. Bright spots of orange begin to glimmer in the sky like fireflies in the night. The people of Liyue are beginning to set off their lanterns and it won’t be too long before the indigo sky will be lit ablaze. Quietly, Xiao waits patiently for Zhongli to speak.

Brief moments of peaceful silence passes while the God of Contracts observes the flowing, golden river of lanterns. “How long has it been since we’ve known each other?” He finally asks, eyes still trained on the very city he had built from nothing.

“A very long time,” Xiao responds with a soft sigh before begrudgingly crossing the short distance between them to stand by Zhongli’s side.

There is a rueful smile at Xiao’s answer. “Indeed. Over these prolonged years, you, my dear friend, have experienced much agony, caused by my own hand. That is one of my greatest regrets to date.”

Xiao frowns, “But I don’t mind it. You saved my life.”

“Ah,” the Geo Archon nods, “You and I have a contract, which you have performed your part outstandingly. But it appears that you have received the short end of the stick. Which is why, dear friend, I think our contract will come to an end.”

“Sir-”

“You have fulfilled your end of the contract, Xiao,” Zhongli cuts off Xiao’s protest, “Exceedingly well beyond my very expectations. It is time for this contract to end, and time for you to discover how to live for yourself instead of following the orders of others.”

A pregnant pause holds over the two men as Xiao processes Zhongli’s words. “And what about the people of Liyue?” He asks finally, “What will happen to them now that I will no longer be vanquishing all these evil spirits?”

There is a satisfied smile which spreads over Zhongli’s face, almost as if he had been expecting Xiao’s question. “Mortals are stronger than you have previously believed them to be,” he says, “They can withstand great calamities.”

“Mere mortals cannot defeat gods,” Xiao scoffs brusquely, “They are weak.”

“Weak compared to you and I, perhaps,” Zhongli nods, “But no matter the occasion, they are resilient creatures. If they get knocked down, they will stand back up, always ready to take on any hardships that come their way. Look at the aftermath of Osial. Tell me, does this appear to you, a city that has given up?” He gestures at the lively harbor, sounds of celebration can be heard even from where they are. There are delicious scents that permeate the air and Xiao could see the people of Liyue laughing as they enjoy their festivities. Merriment envelopes the city. The majority of the lanterns had been set off, bathing the night sky in a golden glow, which rivals that of the stars. “Have a look at this,” the god stretches out an arm, and miraculously, a paper lantern floats gently into his waiting hand. “Humans place their dreams on such a tiny thing,” he takes out the wooden slip hanging inside the lantern, “This mere piece of wood holds the wish of one such individual willing to believe. That is rather admirable, I say.”

“It’s pathetic,” Xiao scowls, face scrunching in distaste, “This wood cannot protect them in times of danger. It cannot grant them great wealth or longevity, nor can it give them happiness.”

Zhongli smiles knowingly as he agrees, “Of course, but they are willing to believe that it could. Such optimism is commendable, no? What’s wrong with the humans wishing on a piece of wood? It causes no harm, yet it is something that gives them hope. Something to live for. Even if this world does come to ruins, would it not be better having hope by your side?”

How you love the things I hate about myself That no one knows, but with you, I see hope again

Xiao is silent, but even he is unable to block the thought of you from his mind. You believed in these things, you believed that wishing on pieces of wood would grant your wishes. You were lively and full of hope, something Xiao could never imagine. You were the only one willing to disregard all the warnings he had given you, and somehow, whatever magic you possessed, had rid Xiao of the agony that raged relentlessly inside his head. And you were human, just like all of the people in the harbor that he can see right from where he is standing.

“Everyone deserves happiness,” the Geo God speaks up softly, “Including you, Xiao. Everyone deserves to have hope, to know what is it that keeps them going. Learn from the mistakes I have made. A world that you have fought hard to keep safe, but without the person who matters most in that world… Is that such a world worth living in?” He hands Xiao the wooden slip he had taken from the lantern. Xiao turns it over in his hand wordlessly to look at the wish that whoever it was had written.

I wish for Xiao to be happy

And darling, this is more than anything I felt before You're everything that I want, but I didn't think I'd find

All the air leaves Xiao’s chest as he stares down at the wish, at your wish. The handwriting is obviously yours; Xiao had seen it plenty of times when you would leave notes for him. He’d memorized every swoop, every line, every curl.

“Wh-what is this?” Xiao’s voice is shaky, and he swallows hard. There is a foreign feeling stuck in his throat, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remove it.

The former Archon turns to face him finally, “Go on, dear friend, find your happiness. Find your hope. Find something in this world worth living for. The light of these lanterns is supposed to bring the protectors of Liyue home, and so I hope it can do something for you as well. You have been in this world for so long, and yet all you have experienced is pain and suffering. It’s time to be free. You’re living, but are you truly alive?” The question makes Xiao pause, but the god continues. “From this day forward, I, Morax, declare the end of our long-held contract, due to both parties fulfilling all the stipulations. I’m setting you free, dear friend. You’re free. I sincerely hope that you can live for yourself from now on. You no longer have to complete the arduous task of vanquishing demons. Unfortunately, I cannot do anything about your karmic debt, but…” There is a pleased upturn of Zhongli’s mouth, “It appears that you have already found something to cure your ailments.”

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

You’re wandering the streets of Liyue, tasting all the delicacies being offered from the various food stalls. A smile dances absentmindedly on your face as you savor the festivities, but somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to enjoy everything wholeheartedly. There is a forlorn sigh as you perch on the edge of an empty boat, face turned upward to watch the lanterns float away. If only Xiao was here…

Immediately you berate yourself, knowing full well that the amber-eyed adeptus hated crowds. You sigh dejectedly again, dangling your legs underneath you as you take out the second wooden slip. Staring at it sadly, another sigh escapes you, knowing that Xiao didn’t believe in wishes. But you couldn’t entirely quash the longing feeling. It would’ve been wonderful to set off lanterns together with Xiao.

“Why would you waste a wish on me?” A gruff voice suddenly sounds behind you, and you easily startle. There is a resigned sigh before a hand grasps your arm. It pulls you up. You straighten to face the disgruntled man, but his previous words does not go unnoticed by you.

You’re unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face. “Waste a wish?” You repeat, taking great delight in the way Xiao averts his eyes. “It’s only wasted if it doesn’t work. And it’s wasted if it doesn’t hold any value. So you do believe in wishes then!” The glee in your voice is unmistakable.

Why do I get so nervous when I look into your eyes? And butterflies can't stop me falling for you

Xiao coughs, and you quickly note how the tips of his ears flush pink. “Pesky mortal,” he grumbles. There is a flick of his wrist and the wish you had sent up to the heavens earlier lands in your hand. “You’re supposed to wish for something for yourself. Is that not the tradition?”

“The wish is for myself,” you say defensively, fingers wrapping around the wood with care. Golden pupils narrow at you, but you continue. “You’re important to me, and therefore, this wish is completely and selfishly, for me and myself only.”

“You really-” Xiao cuts himself off. His arms cross and he aims a glare at the spot behind your shoulder. “Pathetic…” the usual comment is half-hearted.

His actions seem uncharacteristically tense. It makes you eye him curiously, “Is something the matter? I thought you said you wouldn’t come no matter what.”

Lips flatten in disapproval before Xiao sighs in defeat, “The contract…has ended…” The words are mumbled out, but you hear him clearly.

“Does that mean you no longer have to fight the evil spirits?” Surprise floods your voice, and Xiao jerks his neck stiffly, akin to a curt nod. “But what about…the karmic debt?”

“Well…” Xiao begins. He straightens and you swear that you can see something fierce shining within his amber pupils. “I think…I found a cure.”

“That’s…that’s great! What is the cure?” Xiao’s chest tightens at the genuine happiness in your voice and a ghost of Zhongli’s words whispers in his head. Find something in this world worth living for.

And he knew you were that something. That someone. The person who makes life worth living.

“You”

Someone who is worth the wait of all the years of my heartbreak But I know now I found the one I love

Your head tilts in confusion.

“I’m only going to say this once, so listen close,” Xiao’s low voice cuts you off before you can ask. With wide eyes, you nod and Xiao swallows. “I’ve lived…for thousands of years and battled countless monsters and demons. The karmic debt that has accumulated was my burden alone to carry. The first time I ever felt relief was centuries ago. The second time…was when I met you…”

His confession is startling, and it renders you mute. Me?

“I don’t know how you came to possess such powers…but every time I am with you, you somehow manage to remove all traces of pain. I tried to steer clear of you because I didn’t want my karmic debt to affect you, and yet, it seems it has no effect. So…I want to…know more about you. I want to get close to you. Because it seems that you…are my cure.”

“Xiao…” you whisper, feeling tears spring to your eyes, and you wipe at them hastily out of habit lest Xiao makes a remark about mortals being weak. However, he doesn’t and is content to gaze at you. The flush on his ears has traveled to his cheeks, but his amber eyes blaze with a fervor that you have never seen.

“In addition to knowing more about you, I would also like to learn about the humans, about life. Will you…be willing to teach me those things? In return…I will…stay by your side.” I will protect this mortal and slay any monsters that come her way, Xiao vows silently.

“Okay,” you nod as you sniffle. Xiao breathes a silent sigh of relief at your answer. “I’d like that.” You break out in a shaky grin. “We can start with this,” with that, you retrieve the wooden plaque that you had bought earlier. “Why don’t you make a wish? We can send it off together.” Xiao takes the blank wood from you hesitantly. “What do you want, Xiao? Whatever you want, that will be your wish.” You help him out.

I wish for her to be happy, healthy, and safe

The words form instantaneously in his mind at your question. Silently, he writes the words down on the wood and hands it back to you with it facedown. He watches as you light a candle with care before setting it gently in a metal cradle at the base of the lantern. A smile dances unconsciously across your lips, and you hang both wooden wishes inside the lantern. His and yours.

“Ready?” You ask, your face bathed in a golden glow. Xiao nods. His hand comes to cradle yours. The two of you watch as the lantern floats away from your hands.

Humans are silly creatures, Xiao supposes, but there is a certain kind of beauty attached to the image of the little lantern floating against the darkened sky.

A being such as Xiao, might be weary of a world that he had spent thousands of years slaying demons. But such weariness no longer exists for Xiao.

Because this world has you

Come close, let me be home I know it's worth it

Fin.

A/N II: Now I know what most of you are thinking. And it's probably along the lines of "Wow, Ela has been writing so much fluff lately, is she okay, whatever happened to angst, blah blah blah." I get it, I'm confused myself as well. Anyways, more fluff is coming and then I'll be unleashing my angst series *evil laugh* so enjoy this while it lasts. Also, Happy New Year! Thank you guys so much for all the love and support I have received this year. I honestly cannot thank you guys enough. Just know I love and appreciate every one of you ♡

TAGGING: @urujiako, @aph-disabledmusician

If you would like to be on the taglist for my future works, please send an ask or message my way! 💖

For more of my works: 📖

#xiao #genshin impact xiao #genshin xiao #genshin impact #xiao x female reader #xiao x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli #xiao fluff #xiao x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #interwoven fates #genshin fanfic #xiao fanfic #kazuharem #my writing #gi xiao #genshin #panacea #lantern rite #lantern rite festival #istg tags pls work #happy new year #i did not stay up for 24 hours only for this to flop miserably pls pls pls pls #pls reblog

[tartagilicious]

right where you left me, viktor 🧪

"the sky is overcast and i'm sorry, one more or one less, nobody's worried. i'll believe it all, there's nothing i won't understand. i won't let go of your hand."

note: so, i finished arcane about a week ago and immediately got started on this, we need a formal investigation into the epidemic that is viktor i have no idea what’s going on. anyways, there was a common theme i really noticed while watching and i really wanted to do something with it, so here we go!! arcane really highlights the importance of its characters’ choices. a few things said differently, the presence of another person, not reacting too quickly — these are just a few of things i noticed, and i thought it tied into viktor’s unfortunate story really well </3 if a few minuscule things had been different, maybe he would’ve had an easier time :( so, my mentally ill ass has decided to forcibly give him a zest for life in the form of you, enjoy ;D

tagging @cr4yolaas !! because i finally finished!! also, thank @kazuharem for not only encouraging my shenanigans but also convincing me not to kill viktor off at the end 🙄🙄🙄

synopsis: you have always been alone. after the undoing of the undercity and the disappearance of vander and his daughters, your naive mind fell into the hands of the wrong person fairly quickly. but, your fate changed the day you came across a boy tinkering with a toy boat; and by simply being the one to pluck it from the river, you changed the course of your lives forever. you spent years by his side, changing, learning, and growing to love him through everything you experienced together -- until you're both offered a position at piltover's academy, and the decisions of your younger self finally catch up with you. now a lost scientist with merit that works for the man responsible for running the undercity, you are led back to your old friend in the strangest way possible -- by his own invention.

warnings/tags: gender neutral reader (please let me know if i slipped up anywhere!), descriptions of illness, seperation, childhood friends to lovers, we bent the timeline a little bit here aha

word count: 11,000

You had always thought you would die young and angry. It’s how life played out for many around you, after all – the Undercity is many things, but it is hardly kind. Promises and money are the things that weave the threads of the unkempt streets, and relying on such notions are easier said than done.

It’s why you tended to fall back on yourself.

Safety was a hard thing to gain when there were so little people you could trust. Consequently, when the death of Vander and the disappearance of his daughters struck the Undercity, you were among the first to flee. Simply because, there was nothing waiting for you in the darkness. Having your parents taken from you at such a ripe age, the damage was never something you quite understood – but, then again, the enforcers of Piltover weren’t looking for your understanding.

When you saw the surface for the first time, you felt hope. Albeit, the sun hurt your eyes and the warm temperature made you acutely aware of the skin on your arms, yet you couldn’t help but want to pick apart the blazing feeling in your chest. Because, despite the selfish nature that had sustained you until then, it was a hope you knew that you would do anything to share.

However, until such a disciple came along, you would run until your legs could barely stand it. Even if you repeatedly took shelter under a man with a false red eye in the Undercity, from the cracks of the upper levels of Zaun to the backstreets of Piltover, you were wholly on your own.

Until him, that is.

You met the young inventor when you were eleven years old, perhaps similar in age to him, on the edge of the river that bordered Piltover and Zaun. He had been far too entranced by his own ministrations to notice you peeking at him, and for the longest time, you would return by the day to watch him tinker with the peculiar contraption.

Though, the day you had finally accidentally revealed yourself, he had been startled into pulling a string that finally kicked the makeshift machine to life. Strangely, it had excited you. The young boy stared at you for a second then, unsure of what to do between the sputtering boat in his hands and the person spying on him with uncharted curiosity.

Eventually, he chose the latter, letting the boat go while waiting in anticipation of your reaction. Two pairs of eyes watched it move down the shallow river, though perhaps it worked a bit too well – as he stood up with his cane to trail behind it, you began to realise it was close to outrunning him.

You were very rarely seen with others at that time, Taught to be resilient and private, you had often wondered if you were incapable of feeling the things others did – happiness, anger, even sadness, were things you rarely had the capacity or luxury to experience.

So, you aren’t sure what propelled you forward then.

The young boy should have been well aware that his cane would hinder such a chase, and the loss of his work would be no one’s fault but his own. And yet, when you jumped down from the rocks that loomed over the bank, you knew you didn’t want that.

Trudging through the shallow water, you pulled the boat from the water with a small grunt. As you took a look at it up close for the first time, you began to realise just how much work had really gone into the invention – each part was unfamiliar, but meticulous to your eyes.

Was it sympathy that bloomed in your chest when he cautiously took it from your hands?

Hope, you reminded yourself. Is a subjective thing. While the sun may be what guides you, inventions such as this may be his.

You let yourself smile for the first time in a long time to appease him, grateful when he returned the gesture.

“My name is ___. How does your boat work?”

The innocence of the words had betrayed your slightly battered appearance. Even with Silco’s protection, there was little you could do against the world’s hardships as a child. You weren’t nearly as adept as his daughter, the blue-haired bomb technician with an unorthodox fighting style, and it showed in the slight curve of your cheekbones.

You had never been given a fair chance before he reached out a hand to you, before he requested that you come back the next day and help him with the boat a little more. His introduction into your life was as seamless as the way he offered a polite hand, manners oddly refined for a child of the Undercity.

“My name is Viktor.”

You don’t know what you were thinking when you agreed, but you continued to return anyway. You learned to sneak through the crowds in the same way your older peers did, counting on the assumption that Silco had better things to do than keep track of you when making your way out of Zaun.

And each time you returned, it was always worth it. Viktor never ceased to amaze you, his young and curious mind mapping ideas out constantly – some were outlandish, and others too simple, but one thing each inkling had in common was the sheer amount of thought put into it.

Much like his mechanical boat, he worked silently and efficiently. It was months before you felt comfortable enough to call him a friend, but you never necessarily needed words to communicate, so long as you were able to create together.

In no capacity were you gifted in the arts and sciences like he was, but as children of similar circumstances, it didn’t matter – you were his legs, and he was the brain that moved you.

Apart, you may have faltered, but together, you excelled.

Even as you grew up together, you learned slowly. Being under Silco’s umbrella, such activities were kept a careful secret on your part, so perhaps it was convenient that nothing in Viktor’s mind was ever quite your expertise. No matter the time Viktor set aside to teach you the intricacies of the things he created, you could only ever manage to dive beneath the surface levels.

It was a mix of this and a concern for your safety that made you think it only appropriate to take no credit for the inventions, even as he insisted on noting your name beside his in patents.

“It doesn’t work like that,” You’d insist, motioning for him to hand you the pen he twirled between his fingers. You were seventeen when Viktor began working on his projects to alleviate pollution in the Undercity, six years after you’d first encountered him. Though you would describe your efforts towards the reformatory gadgets created thus far as menial, Viktor didn’t seem to think so.

“Isn’t it, I don’t know, enough to note me somewhere else?” You offer, dropping your hand when it’s obvious he won’t let up. “I didn’t create this, you did.”

He nods. “It was my hands, of course. But it would be unfair to omit the parts that required your help.”

Viktor taps a part of the air filter on the table in front of him – it’s a more recent invention of his, meant to purify the toxic air that lingers in certain shimmer factories below ground. You avoid his eyes. The part he references is indeed something you had taken the time to understand on your own.

“A part here and there doesn’t mean anything.” You mumble. He looks at you incredulously, one thick brow slightly quirked.

“A machine is composed of many parts. If one doesn’t work, the entire mechanism is at risk of failing. No matter how small, every contribution is important.”

You narrow your eyes.

“You’re talented, ___.” Viktor sighs, a resigned hand letting the pen in his grip meet the page. “It would be a mistake to let you go uncredited when you’re just as responsible for this as I-”

“Vik, please.”

Eyeing you carefully, he looks down at the pending patent and back at you. You nudge him on with the slight raise of your brows.

“...Fine.” His accent piques on the word, and relief floods your system to witness him writing a few adjustments in. Of course, you’ve considered telling Viktor of your fears countless times. You’d divulged certain worries about your caretaker to him before, and even without explicit name dropping, he could surely guess who it was that was the source of your troubles.

But, still unbeknownst to Viktor, you walk a fine line around him. To be credited for an invention you spent time on with him, it’s something you want desperately – because your friend is right. Each piece that goes into any machine passes through two sets of eyes, and though you may never reach Viktor’s level of understanding, you’ve worked hard to be able to call yourself his partner.

And yet, the right is something you are barred from. To be credited for an invention with such prestige, it would surely only make you a target for Silco’s own ingenious plots. You may be tethered to the man by a deal lost to time, but you will not stand for your knowledge to be used to hurt those you have sworn to help.

Years ago, you had come up to the surface for the first time, the sun’s light birthing new, selfless ambition into your young and confused mind. Viktor had given you an outlet for your dreams, and you will not let your shared aspirations die for anything.

Truthfully, though, you wouldn’t be completely surprised if Silco had caught wind of your activities with the inventor long ago. He’s an unfortunately clever man with eyes everywhere in the Undercity – at times, you wonder if Viktor’s own lab is even safe. But, so long as you keep yourself in the dark, you know he wouldn’t dare to seek you out for fear of misunderstanding your role.

It’s why you can’t tell Viktor of your real worries. You couldn’t, also not by risk of his inventive nature – he’d surely attempt to create a solution, endangering himself and everything you’d worked so hard to keep hidden.

It would hurt you too much to tell him that some things just can’t be fixed.

Viktor had been the only one there for you even in the most tumultuous times. Losing him to Silco would only mean losing another part of yourself to the vile man, and you are not ready to give him anything else – your contracted loyalty is far more than enough.

It’s something the man takes very seriously, and for him to discover that you’ve been hiding something so important from him, it could mean the death of you both.

And so, you continue working in secret. Fixing inept systems and saving lives, bringing people of the Undercity up to the light, and providing an example as if to tell those around you, things will change.

At eighteen, you turn around to the familiar sound of a cane clicking on the floor. Viktor greets you with a jovial smile before dropping a small stack of papers in front of you.

You joke, “Jeez, Vik, I know we agreed to share the work, but this is–”

He cuts you off with a chuckle, pulling a few particular papers from the pile with a quiet hum. “Mmh, don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s not paperwork.”

You watch him unfold the papers with rapt attention, a prying hand on the locket around your neck curious of what he’s leading up to. Viktor leans haphazardly on your desk, rifling through everything until he comes up with what he’s looking for: a map.

As he puts a hand on the back of your chair to steady himself after letting go of his cane, you lean in to get a better view of what he tries to show you. It’s marked heavily in red ink, and you recognise most of the littered sites of forges and shimmer containment sites, though the purpose of the markings are still lost on you.

You take a quick glance at the man next to you, only to discover he’s already looking at you. A smile splits his lips as continues,

“This is the official number of facilities our mechanisms have been implemented at,” Viktor flips the page over. “And this, is the tracking of accidents these same facilities have reported over the past two years.”

The line graph slopes downwards exponentially.

An astonished sound leaves your mouth. “Viktor! This is huge!”

A smile washes over his face as you stand up abruptly, taking his support into your own hands as you wind an arm around his torso in celebration. You cheer as he reaches around your own shoulder and pulls you into him without apprehension, laughing as you do.

“But,” You lean back to look him in the eye, smile faltering a bit. “Does this mean we’re almost done? What will we do next?”

Viktor simply smiles at you.

“Ehh, why not start a new project afterwards?” He suggests, taking great pleasure in the way your eyes light up. Even if you have yet to realise, he has always watched you carefully – your tells of disappointment and vice versa are exceedingly easy to distinguish. Yet, he is still unsure how to face your raw dejection when faced with the possibility of parting with him.

“There are many more that we can help, if you’ll choose to stay to complete such a goal.”

A baited question, and his heart pumps wildly when you take it. His baseless theory of your afflictions towards him had long since evolved into a string of small experimentations, though he is no longer sure if he is doing it to figure out only you, or if its roots run deeper.

A familiar grin curls at your lips as you shake your head incedulously, hand that lies around him patting his back. “Looks like you’re stuck with me, because I’m in for whatever you decide.”

But, the notion is short lived.

At nineteen, Viktor receives a letter. Unlike the usual quickly packed thank you notes he normally receives, it is adorned with a large and regal red stamp, his name penned carefully over the front.

He holds it up to you when you walk into the lab one day, equal amounts of concern and curiosity swimming beneath his gaze.

“What’s that?” You ask, shrugging off your coat to hang it on a hook nearby. “When did-“

“It’s from the council.”

The words silence you quickly. Then, you notice that the letter has already been torn open, its contents most likely read over — probably thoroughly, knowing your partner.

And judging from the forlorn expression he wears, it must not be anything good.

“It’s from Heimerdinger, the Councilman.” Viktor explains quietly as you take a seat across from him, not paying any mind to the way you falter. “He’s heard of our endeavours in the Undercity and would like to discuss them.”

Your eyes widen, but you keep your reaction in check as much as possible — despite the outward luck of such a letter being addressed to him, there is an undoubtedly concerning aspect of the offer.

“Then… Why the face?”

“Well-“ Viktor pauses, putting a hand to his chin. He thinks carefully before he says, “The people of Piltover… they don’t reach out to people like us for nothing. The outcome of this may not be good, not for either of us.”

“You should come with me, just in case.” He says.

Shooting him a cautious smile, you shrug. “What, do you think they’d show no mercy to a crippled scientist?”

Thankfully, Viktor breathes out a laugh.

“The possibility is why I need my legs with me.”

The old joke brings a quiet smile to your face, voice gentle as you retort,

“Then, as long as you lend me your brain once more.”

After wandering the streets of Piltover in pursuit of the politician, you arrive at the gates of a particularly refined building — and considering the rest of the city, it’s saying a lot. Curious hands run over the wall as Viktor watches your awe, a silent smile at the corner of his lips.

Further inside the lobby of the building, you both stand there, unsure of what to do until a peculiar voice leads your attention towards the ground. An owl-like creature stands at your feet, no taller than the bones of your knees.

“Hello, dear children.”

You look up and attempt to exchange a look with Viktor, but he only pays attention to the person in front of you.

“Professor Heimerdinger,” Your partner smiles in greeting, nudging you to do the same. The councilman watches in amusement as you try to replicate the kind smile on Viktor’s face. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

The councilman merely waves the words off, motioning with a furry wave of his hand for you to follow him deeper into the lobby. Viktor finally catches your eye as you walk, and you share a quick smile.

“It’s a great pleasure to meet the young minds behind all of the developments in the forges of the Undercity.” Heimerdinger says, settling into a high seat with practiced ease.

He must have requested your presence at some sort of government building, judging by the formal atmosphere. The area you occupy lies not far from a front desk, in a small outcove perhaps meant for discussions such as this one.

“I’m sure you must have been frazzled to receive an invitation from me, but I sincerely hope that you will carefully consider the offer I give you today.”

Viktor nods. “Of course.”

You begin to eye your partner curiously. Viktor had seemed so worried when explaining the contents of the letter to you a few days ago, and yet now, he seems perfectly calm. Frowning, you run your thumb over the smooth edge of the locket around your neck.

A bitter nervousness festers in your gut as Heimerdinger continues.

“—Your expertise in these matters is why I would like to personally extend invitations to the Academy of Techmaturgy to the both of you.”

Before Viktor can answer, your brows knit. “Excuse me?”

The small area falls into a sudden silence, and embarrassment curls within your chest as you clear your throat.

“My- my apologies. I only mean to ask, I thought this was a letter addressed to Viktor only?”

Heimerdinger’s eyes flash with recognition before he chuckles.

“Yes, my dear, that is true. But, only because he is the only one of you with a registered place of residence. I figured the letter would also likely find his partner eventually.”

When you stare at him, Heimerdinger pauses.

“…Are you not also the inventor of these gadgets?”

He reaches into a bag by his side that you hadn’t noticed, pulling out familiar patents. They’re stamped with Piltover’s red seal, proving their authenticity in the councilman’s grip. On the first document, he points to the top line.

Your name sits next to Viktor’s in the man’s staple messy cursive, and beside it is a small scribble. Something in you deflates and rises at the same time, constricting painfully in your chest. Anyone else would look at this and merely assume Viktor was testing out the pen’s ink when printing your names, but you remember the moment clearly.

“You…You didn’t need help at all, did you? You just wanted me to see this.” A surprised laugh escapes your mouth, and you can’t help the expression of apprehension that passes over your face. You rifle through the patents curiously, and with rising horror, note the printing of your name on each one.

Viktor had never crossed out your name like he said he would — ever. Not ever in the two years since you’d begun the forge projects.

A warm feeling blooms in your chest despite the fear. You now realise the error in your secrecy, but you could never fault Viktor for being unaware of something you’d give a limb to hide. Yet still, the fact that he had always seen through to your true wishes to be credited alongside him is touching. So, however horrible the consequences for your inventor status may turn out to be, you will never forget your partner’s kind sentiment.

Viktor is truly the only person in Piltover that could manage to threaten your life and make a grand gesture all in one breath.

Viktor leans over carefully so only you can hear the words he whispers. “Only because I knew you would refuse. You deserve this chance.”

You shoot him a small nod in thanks, hoping your dread doesn’t show too much.

“…This, it's truly quite an offer.“ You nod to Heimerdinger, swallowing your protests with a strained smile. You can feel Viktor’s gaze on you, though you are too guilty to return it. “It’s just… I’m not sure this is a good idea for me.”

Taking advantage of the shock that permeates the air, you push out a strained laugh.

“There’s so much I have yet to do in the Undercity, not to mention, my skills…” You trail off, waving your hand in a motion that suggests your incompetence. It’s a valid excuse that someone might use, though you aren’t sure how much the professor will believe you in particular.

If you’re listed as the co-creator of the inventions put to use in the Undercity, he may have a different assumption of your skills — of which would, unfortunately, be closer to correct than the pitiful show you attempt to put on now.

“Perhaps you have the wrong idea about me.”

Viktor lets out a conflicted cough, and against your better judgement, you meet his eye. The man has never been particularly yielding with his emotions, though you don’t know that you’ve ever seen him so conflicted.

“It’s true, really.” You insist, placing a hand on your partner’s shoulder as you say, “Viktor, on the other hand, is an excellent choice.”

You’re extremely surprised he doesn’t swat your hand away.

“When he devised the warning system for the coal furnaces in the mines, he used his own kitchen to run tests on how well the machine could pick up changes in temperature and air quality.” You explain, a smile curling at your lip as you recall the memory. “We had to replace the stove twice.”

Your voice comes out sadder than intended when you nod. “He’s dedicated. He’s a good choice.”

“___.”

You eye your partner cautiously as he stands, grabbing for his cane. Long legs take him around the narrow couch and he motions for you to follow him.

“I’m sorry, professor, but could we take a moment?”

Professor Heimerdinger nods wordlessly even as you try to catch his gaze, seemingly not willing to offer any insight. Whatever Viktor has to say is for you to take alone, and you don’t necessarily blame him for wanting nothing to do with the fall.

You follow your partner into a more secluded area of the lobby that lies away from prying ears. But, when the sound of his cane on the marble floor suddenly halts, you’re finally forced to turn your gaze on him.

“Viktor, I–”

“Tell me your concerns.” Viktor interrupts, leaning into his cane a bit to effectively raise a brow in your direction. You try to ignore the heat that threatens to creep up your neck at the direct action. “I can see in your eyes that you’d like to accept, but this pattern of decline is too convenient.”

You stumble on your words. “What- A pattern? What pattern?”

Viktor studies you thoughtfully, eyes slightly narrowed. “Is there a particular reason you’d like to completely separate yourself from science to the public?”

When you can think of no way to respond, you look away and shrug.

“I always wanted to be credited for our inventions.” You mutter, fluffing out the back of your hair with an apprehensive huff. You don’t notice the way his expression begins to thaw at the quirk. “But before I knew you… I grew up with a different life. I made decisions to trust people then, and I can’t even get away from it now.”

“Our inventions?” Viktor repeats, taking great pleasure in the way you can’t help but smile. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard you say that out loud.”

You shake your head, pushing out a short laugh. “Don’t be like that, you always knew I wanted it more than anything. It’s why you put my name on the patents despite my protests.”

“That,” He sighs lowly. “I’m sorry. I had no idea there was such a heavy reason behind it.”

“It’s…well, I’m not sure. It’s complicated.” You explain. “I had always been worried that I was being watched, and that the patents would only give him a reason to seek me out.”

Viktor nudges your foot with his cane, encouraging you to go on. “Him?”

Eight years. For eight years you had kept most of Silco’s contract to you a secret, and from the only person who would ever forgive you for making such a mistake. However, now that you have the chance, you tell Viktor everything - how the man had taken you in after your parents had died, and how you had been contracted to him against your will at fourteen after he had caught wind of your inventive nature.

The way you would visit Viktor constantly even as you lay in bed each night terrified of the future, requesting to keep your name out of patents because you feared being used as a tool in Silco’s plots of anarchy.

But, the worst case scenarios always ended with Viktor getting hurt. Viktor being taken away, Viktor being killed, all because you had made the mistake of falling into the hands of the wrong person.

“You were thinking about my safety in the middle of this?” He tuts, leaning back into the wall to hover his cane off the ground and hold it like a club. “I’m not so easily reachable.”

“Viktor.” You laugh, shaking your head as he reverts his position. “I’m serious.”

He shrugs. “So am I.”

“All I ask, is that you consider Heimerdinger’s offer. You deserve this place, no one has the right to take it from you.” He reassures you, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair back into place behind your ear. “Silco can’t reach you in Piltover.”

You shrug hopelessly, head falling into his hand as you mumble softly, “His reach is much farther than either of us will ever know.”

“But, I’ll get out of there. I’ll figure out something, and in the meantime, you should accept the offer. I meant what I said about your dedication.” You nod, troves of unsaid words hanging above your heads. The most blatant of them however, is that should you fail, there’s a fair chance that you may never see each other again – an eye for an eye situation, product of your attempt at desertion.

You realise it’s not something Viktor wants you to bet on, but if you had the choice, you’d leave Silco’s grasp in a heartbeat. Finally, you have the chance to be who you’ve always wanted, working to help those in need and bringing light to the darkest corners of the Undercity. Yet, you are cruelly aware of what will happen if someone should defect, and you aren’t fond of the idea of becoming the next example.

Viktor lets his hand drop, and you attempt to catch his gaze hopefully.

“Maybe he hasn’t even caught wind of these inventions yet. Or, maybe he’s found someone smarter to do the work for him. But, even if none of that’s true and this doesn’t go to plan, I’ll still be able to leave eventually. It’s only a few more years, then I'll be free to go wherever I want in the world.”

Your expression deflates as Viktor simply stares at you, expression unreadable for all but the slight downturn of his lips.

“I’ll be fine.” You assure him quietly. “However easily I’m able to phase myself out of that place, it won’t be long.”

“And if you fail?” He asks, voice uncharacteristically small. “What will I do? Simply wait for your return?”

You go silent at the question, warmth festering in your chest.

“You’d be fine without me even if you chose not to.” You say quietly. “You always would’ve been.”

Viktor sighs, his unenthusiastic eyes narrowed. “...In what world would that be true?”

You’re shocked into silence.

“…Then,” Your lips thin as an indecisive hand wraps around the chain of the locket around your neck. It’s a small thing, rusted and worn from years of passive use – but conveniently easy to break. In an impulsive moment, you tear the chain from your neck, not responding to Viktor’s opposition even as you grab his hand and drop the necklace in it.

“Take this, as my promise to return quickly.”

Cautiously, he thumbs open the small compartment, a small incredulous laugh escaping his lips. Viktor raises the object in his hand with a wry smile. “You’re ridiculous. You’ve kept this, all this time?”

In the open locket sits a small picture, imperfect by every standard. The faces are barely legible anymore, and the jagged cut edges curl out from the areas that don’t quite reach the paper. However, the way Viktor had recognised it with just a glance makes you feel better about the way you still cling onto that day.

Your younger faces stare back at you, smiling with a large object sitting between your hands.

A boat.

You smile faintly, a heavy feeling rising in your eyes as you nod.

In that moment, you hear it – the slight hitch of his breath, the click of his cane as he leans back into the wall. Viktor takes you into his arms with attentive concern, with such raw apologeticness that it clouds your mind and kickstarts your faltering heart.

“I’m sorry.” You say, voice faint with tears. “I can do this. I promise.”

He nods, accent thick with heartache as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“I believe you.”

You don’t regard Viktor as one of the smartest men in the Undercity for no reason. There were quite a few times when you’d been a personal witness to his ingeniousness, and you respected the boy greatly for his inventive nature even then.

But, when did you begin to see more than that?

Was it in the awkward boy who had given you a new chance at life, or the curious teenager who laughed when a prototype nearly exploded in his face? Though you have always looked upon these memories with fondness, you choose to focus on different aspects now.

The day he had approached you to share the success of your projects in the forgeries, how he had struggled to hold back the rampant flush building up in his ears when he’d asked you to stay with him. The many occasions where he would grab your hand without a thought just to lead you to something new. His simple encouraging words that never failed to urge you on.

But, Viktor had never outright acknowledged the idea of you as anything more until the day you’d had to leave him.

It’s a bittersweet memory.

Occasionally, you find yourself wondering what course your life would have taken if you had listened to the boy you’d always had so much faith in.

he can’t reach you in piltover.

You wish you would’ve taken the chance to find out.

Hope had blinded you in the most unfortunate way — of course, Silco was already well aware of your plans and nearly pounced on the chance to dismantle them, effectively giving you no choice but to stay.

He was once a kind man, taking you in when you had nowhere else to go. But, he had since gone cynical, left without much sympathy for anyone other than his ticking time bomb of a daughter.

When subjecting your skills to the Undercity, he had told you that you would only be continuing your work. Helping people with the mind you worked so hard to cultivate. But you weren’t so nearsighted — the gadgets you designed were for no one’s benefit but his own.

Though, you’d still worked hard in the years you’d been under him. Because, against your better judgement, throwing yourself into such a familiar craft became an undeniable comfort.

If you imagined hard enough, you could even tell yourself Viktor was sitting somewhere nearby, tinkering with a part of his own.

You were never truly able to contact him after he’d left for the academy, and his new position as a creator of Hextech in Piltver’s high society didn’t exactly make it any easier. Besides, your connections were largely cut down due to the secrecy in your role in Silco’s ranks. Your confidentiality was an important piece to his schemes, and god forbid you break it.

It had gotten to the point where you were left to assume Viktor could figure out what happened to you. But, the thought is a sour one. It left you grasping for the comfort of the locket around your neck nearly every time the thought came up, despite that you rarely forgot that it was in the hands of the man you’d grown to love.

Almost six years had passed before you finally received a messily bound notebook from Jinx, the explosive girl giving it to you with a proud smile.

“I’m handing these off to you!” She says animatedly, not waiting for your reaction before she continues in a more serious tone, “You’d better not let anything happen to them, I worked hard to break these out.”

You follow the nudge of her hand onto a lumpier part of the notebook, when you realise that the cover is a makeshift pocket. Giving her an unsure look, you open it cautiously.

A harmless blue glow emits onto her face as the fabric falls back, and you have to admit, Jinx almost looks crazier in the hue — if such a thing is even possible.

“Yeah,” You agree, eyeing the stones with attentive curiosity as you nod. “Sure, I’ll take care of them for you.”

Shouldering the burden of whatever may be in the notebook in your hands, you bid her farewell before returning to your lab. You look down at the journal with dismay. You sympathise with Jinx, you really do – rumours of her story have been floating around since before the time you were initiated, and none of them are quite bedtime stories.

But Jinx is so eager to prove herself that she barely stops to think of the consequences, even when there’s a possibility of them falling to you. But, such is the role of a scientist: your hands are often dirtied at the expense of someone else’s curiosity.

Still, the book seems important, so you don’t want to mishandle it for risk of being connected to it.

You unhook the pouch containing the crystals carefully, setting it aside as you crack open the worn spine. Your lips turn up in a grimace when it falls flat against the table, but it quickly morphs into confusion as you stare at the messy cursive that fills the page. The writer’s hand had been heavy and decisive; whoever had written it was either in a great rush, or was astounded by their subject of notation.

As you attempt to decipher the barely legible writing, you almost laugh. You had only ever known one person with such bad penmanship–

At the thought, the colour drains from your face.

Thoughtlessly, you grab for the pouch of strange crystals while peering at the page. You hope to everything that you aren’t correct, but as the seemingly random lines begin to shift into words before your eyes, you curse beneath your breath.

This is Viktor’s notebook.

Your breath catches in your throat, spilling from your lungs and into every crevice of your body. Though, as you force yourself to read on, your worry only gets worse – the notes detail a new form of Hextech, a more simple version of the magic used to power Hexgates, and their plans to utelise it for more everyday tasks.

More maps breaking down new products litter the notebook as you flip through the pages, each piece more thorough than the next. Your hands splayed out beside the notebook falter as you drop your head, a familiar tightness manifesting in your chest. Just what had Jinx done to get her hands on such a thing?

Breath growing heavier, it gets harder and harder to fight the fear that bites at you with each passing second. Silco had once promised to not lay a hand on Viktor in exchange for your work, but Jinx? Jinx is bound under no such agreement.

You fall into the chair under you, hand over your mouth as you consider your options.

Of course, your worry is baseless. Perhaps Jinx had hurt no one, intent on pleasing Silco to the greatest effect. But, the chance of her going all the way and killing anyone at the scene isn’t necessarily far-fetched, either.

Taking another peek at the open page, you fight a sigh. The work is extremely detailed, and knowing Viktor, it’s likely years were spent on these ideas. It’s for that reason that you force yourself not to dwell on his life too much for now – no matter the fate he met at Jinx’s break-in, you know without a doubt that he would prefer for his work to remain his.

So, for the next couple of weeks, you feign cluelessness.

“I’m– Look, I know that you’d like this information,” You say to Silco, brows furrowed. “But these Piltover scientists don’t write in a way any of us were taught. I need the time to decipher it.”

It’s laughable that the sole reason the information could never reach him is merely bad cursive, not an uncommon Piltover scripture. Though, of course, Silco doesn’t need to know this.

“Tell me, what good of a scientist are you if you can’t make sense of a peer’s notes?” He challenges, and you fight a frown.

“With all due respect, Sir, I can begin to understand the diagrams even without notes.” You say it slowly, testing out the waters. The last thing you want to do while lying out of your teeth is make Silco mad. “But without context, anything I find is ultimately useless.”

Perhaps against his better judgement, Silco believes you that night. Fortunately, it gives you all the time you need to focus on Viktor’s notes in secret, though, you’re not sure how it makes you feel to realise that his notes actually make sense — so much time has passed since you last saw each other, it barely seems real.

You’ve grown since the last time you’d see each other, but for now, you can only hope that Viktor is around to have the opportunity to see it.

But the fact that you can’t contact him in any way doesn’t help your worry, either. It’s not strange for someone of his status to be without a direct line of communication, and it’s even less strange that you, a scientist of the Undercity, still fail to find an easy way to get ahold of the man. Your only source of information has always been the rumours that fall from the pockets of Silco’s clientele – unreliable, but better than nothing.

Assuming that the death of a creator of Hextech would be a bigger scoop amidst the usual sea of casual gossip, you’re relieved when a few days pass and you’ve heard nothing of the sort. But, even the passage of time is a dangerous game now: you know that Silco’s patience is likely wearing thin in the lapse of any progress.

So, you give him what he wants.

He can’t read the messy scripture either, and it’s quite easy to say you’ve made advancements by tacking on a random splice of information that he wouldn’t understand anyways. Giving him the true information would be a gamble you aren’t ready to take – putting that kind of power into his hands could prove exceptionally dangerous.

Still, doing such a thing leaves you undeniably on edge. Lying to Silco isn’t an easy thing, and the fears of your secret escaping run constantly rampant in your head. It’s a difficult thing to juggle, to say the least – like your own personal show, that unfortunately includes acting a part for nearly everyone you know.

One muggy night around a week later, you finally feel as though you’re nearing your breaking point. You can’t feed Silco pieces of nondescript information forever: even he will eventually begin to piece together the mechanics of the gadgets. But, what choice do you have? You've essentially dug yourself a grave.

You think you’ve finally gone crazy when a small ticking sound interrupts the quiet atmosphere. But, another round pulls you out of your thoughts, and with a sigh, you turn towards where you think the source lies.

There is a row of large windows that line the eastern wall of your lab, put in specifically to fuel your ‘creativity’. You had assured Silco it was a useless endeavour, but he had gone ahead without the discretion of your choices, as usual.

The beauty in the Undercity is certainly unorthodox – as much as you’d like to look out the windows and see rolling hills, the mechanical city has its own charms. Everything is connected in a way underground, making for a messy but tight-knit community: an oddly heartwarming contradiction.

Though, perhaps it’s connected a bit too literally.

As you glance out the window, your eyes immediately catch on two silhouettes. As if to emphasise their point, the one kneeling on the overhanging roof knocks again. They say something that’s muffled by the thick glass.

Your brows knit as you stare at the pair. They’re shrouded completely in the dark, features barely discernable behind the panes. You know you should leave them be – who knows what someone knocking on the windows of a lab could be after. But, your curiosity gets the better of you before rationality can kick in.

Cautiously, you make your way up to the window, unhooking the latch and finally letting the quiet voice of the kneeling person flow in.

“___!” A familiar voice you can’t place says your name with relief, slipping past you and onto the counter you kneel on. When they land, the sound they make on impact has you reaching instinctively to their shoulder. It wouldn’t necessarily be hard to paint whatever this is as a break-in, but you’d rather not.

“What do you think you’re–” You fall silent after you pull the person’s shoulder back, grey eyes staring into yours as if to dare you to go further.

Barely avoiding a stutter from escaping, you ask, “...Vi?”

“In the flesh.” She remarks, getting to her feet and taking a look around your lab. “I heard you’d be lurking around here somewhere, didn’t know it would be here specifically.”

Vi shoots you a pointed look and you sigh.

“It’s a story for another time.” You mumble, taking a glance at the person who had come with her that stands still on the windowsill. Dark blue eyes flit around the room, and you don’t think anything of it until you notice the gold detailing on her outfit.

“Woah!” Jogging across the room to cover your work table, you reach easily for the gun holstered beneath your coat. Offhandedly, you wonder if they’re here for Viktor’s notebook. “I didn’t know you ran with that kind of crowd, Vi. Was your disappearance not enough of a shock?”

Vi grits her teeth in frustration, pulling out her own weapon and turning it on you. It’s then that you realise the enforcer on the window carries a sniper rifle, but oddly enough, she doesn’t move to protect herself.

“Seriously? You have no idea what happened to me.”

“Vi.” The enforcer hisses, accent smooth as she carefully eases her way down onto the counter before raising her hands. “There’s no need to be so hostile, their trust is more important.”

Your brows knit.

“What are you talking about?”

With a huff, Vi’s stance relaxes slightly. Something in you deflates at the obvious display of trust between the two – you had never been particularly close to Vi as a kid, always a few years older and a few leagues weaker, but she was still someone you respected. Your own relationship with the higher-ups of Piltover is admittedly complicated, but Viktor is no enforcer. Anyone from the Undercity would be able to distinguish the difference.

“My trust?” You prod, nudging the gun in your hand with your pointer finger as if to remind them of your confusion. “What about it?”

“We heard rumours. You work for Silco? As a…” She struggles, eventually getting frustrated and spitting out a title. “Researcher, of some kind?”

“A scientist.” You correct, shrugging the error away. “But, what does that have to do with anything?”

The enforcer steps forward, eyes unsettlingly kind. It makes you feel as though you’re the one in the wrong, even though neither of you have done anything inherently bad yet.

“We want to take Silco down.”

Begrudgingly, Vi lets the enforcer lead you to the chair by your work table and take care of explaining things to you. Though, you only lower your gun once it’s clear she isn’t there to report you or to arrest you for the things in your lab that are, quite frankly, wholly out of your control.

“The rumours we heard, they said you were here against your will.” The enforcer you now know as Caitlyn says so quietly, an apologetic look falling over her face. Your lips tick into a frown.

“If you want me to help you go against him, I’m afraid it’s not possible.” You lament quietly, leaning back into your chair as you sigh. Caitlyn and Vi exchange a glance as you continue. “I might be a valuable scientist, but I’m ultimately replaceable. He’d kill me.”

And you don’t say it, but you know the man would make it a spectacle. A warning to those thinking of doing the same, and a cruel jab at the Hexgate creator he’d taken you from.

“I know that you think you have power. But, I did too once. Whatever you think Silco is capable of doing, it’s worse.”

“I believe you.” Caitlyn nods. “But that’s not quite true. We… We were given a chance to hold an audience with the council. It’s concerning a different matter, but it connects back to the man who’s forcing you to do this.”

“We want you to give us evidence that he’s doing things beyond code. Vi suggested that if the rumours of your contracting were indeed true, you might be able to help.”

If she has any other thoughts on the situation, they’re kept behind her stumbling words by lock and key. When you don’t respond, she takes decisive steps forward, kneeling down to take your hand from where you sit.

You look up at her in shock as she says,

“Don’t fret. Silco can’t reach you in Piltover.”

Caitlyn’s words are gentle, and unfortunately familiar.

“All I ask, is that you consider Heimerdinger’s offer. You deserve this place, no one has the right to take it from you. Silco can’t reach you in Piltover.”

You always wished you would’ve taken the chance to find out.

Suddenly, your face twists as your free hand flies to your mouth. Memories you had been repressing flow into you at full force, and the feeling is nauseating as you choke out,

“....Was anyone hurt the night the Hexcrystals were stolen?”

Caitlyn’s head dips as if to earn a glimpse of your face, before she hesitantly shakes her head.

“Fine, then.” You swallow harshly. “You’re right. I should come.”

Decidedly, you reach behind you and consequently make Caitlyn back up. You grab the notebook with a soft grip, hesitant in the route you’re taking until Vi pops out a nondescript question behind you.

“This,” You start, voice quiet as you let out an embarrassed laugh. “...Is the notebook that was stolen a few weeks ago. It was stolen by someone in our ranks and passed onto me.”

The revelation makes the pair in front of you go silent.

“Ah–” You put up your hands in mock surrender, brows furrowing. “But it’s not like I asked for this, nor would I ever actually give the information to anyone–”

“You have that?” Vi’s eyes widen. “And the crystals, too?”

“Yes, both.” You wince slightly.

“No,” Caitlyn interrupts, putting up a hand. “That’s good. A high profile piece of evidence will give us credibility.”

You bite the inside of your lip as you contemplate. “But, speaking of high profile. …How sure can I be that I won’t be arrested for this information? While not of my own will, I’ve created things that have been used to commit horrible deeds–”

“I’ll protect you.” Caitlyn assures you, putting a hand to her chest. “I promise you this. You truly seem like a good person, ___, and I believe that.”

An enforcer’s words wouldn’t have meant anything to you thirty minutes ago. But now, they light a casual flame in your chest.

“Thank you.” You nod shyly.

Interrupting the heartfelt moment with the quiet clap of her hand, Vi says, “If we’re all done, let’s figure something out. And quickly.”

“Stage fright?”

Caitlyn comes up beside you, the engaging question meant to be thoughtful. Instead, it just reminds you of all you have to fear — perhaps you’ll be thrown out the moment the councilors know who you are, but even if you do stay, will they believe you?

Or, will they think you’re merely painting a picture for your own benefit? There’s no easy way to explain how the stolen materials were so easily entrusted to you without somehow implicating yourself, and the possibilities are terrifying.

You shrug, shifting the bag over your shoulder. “Something like that.”

“Don’t worry, I told you.” Caitlyn says, a thoughtful hand resting on your shoulder. “I’ll make sure you’re protected. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“…I hope so.” You mumble.

“Either way,” She motions for you and Vi to follow her. “We’ll get through it. Are you ready?”

When you both give your forms of acceptance, Caitlyn lays a careful hand on the large door that separates you from the council room, waiting for an appropriate time to enter.

“Perhaps Marcus was working independently,” a disembodied voice says thoughtfully. “But what could anyone in the Undercity offer him that he didn’t have up here.”

At the momentary pause of chatter in the room, Caitlyn takes this opportunity to enter.

“It’s not what they offered him. It’s what he had to lose.”

Guards accompany you from behind, and admittedly, you can’t muster the courage necessary to raise your head. Caitlyn seems to know what she’s doing, and even Vi is fairly comfortable with facing the officials as she glances among them.

“Councilors, my daughter has a unique insight into our situation.” An unfamiliar woman stands, that of which you assume to be Caitlyn’s mother. Curiously, you raise your head.

There’s certainly a resemblance.

She nods in her mother’s direction. “Thank you.”

“First,” She turns her head to Vi, who stands beside her. “Councilors, this is Vi. She was born in the Undercity.”

“Even though we failed her in countless ways, she risked everything to show me what life is really like down there.” They share a heavy glance that makes you wonder just what had happened between the two of them before they had decided to seek you out.

“People are starving, sick, ravaged by shimmer. They live in constant fear of the coordinated efforts of violent crime lords. And one man leads these efforts — Silco.”

A robotic councilor is the first to speak, refutting. “We’ve done investigations of Silco. They yielded no such level of organisation.”

The forefront creator of Hextech drops what he plays with in his hand, the small pin making a sound that makes the room go quiet. Briefly, you think you notice the shuffle of someone sitting behind him, but you don’t dwell on it.

“What does this Silco even want from us?” Jayce asks.

Caitlyn turns to you, and hesitantly, you clear your throat. You’ve never been a terrible public speaker, but in this moment, you have to wrest the edge from your throat.

“That— he believes the Undercity should be independent.” You explain stiffly. “He calls it the nation of Zaun.”

Jayce’s thick brows furrow with uncertainty. “…And who might you be?”

“My name is ___.” You answer. “I’m a scientist that works under Silco, and I’d like to provide concrete proof that he’s someone that needs to be dealt with.”

Finally, you let yourself get a good look at all of the councilors. They’re all quite unique in appearance, from a range of species and colour, some wearing defining pieces of jewellery while others stick to more plain ensembles.

But as your eyes make their way across the board, waiting for someone to speak, you catch something that stops you short.

You were right. There is someone sitting behind Jayce. He leans out from behind his much larger counterpart to let his eyes flicker over the faces of your companions, only pausing for a split second before they fly back to you.

You dare to meet his gaze when you feel his attention on you. Suddenly, your words die in your throat.

The man’s cheekbones are almost gaunt against his pale skin, and the bags under his eyes must be a similar hue to Caitlyn's uniform. But, there’s a deeply familiar emotion in the way he looks at you. It pricks beneath your skin as the onset feeling of recognition dawns on you.

It feels as though someone’s given you a kick to the stomach when he reaches out for something beside him, solidifying your thoughts by grasping a crutch.

Viktor?

He releases a small breath, urging you on with a slight smile.

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from letting the extent of your emotion show. Of course, Viktor is sitting in on a councilor’s meeting looking like he’d been put through a wringer, facing you as if you’re a criminal awaiting trial, but some things truly never change.

You swallow firmly as Vi nudges you, forcing you to tear your gaze away from Viktor. She gives you a pointed look that startles you back into function — she’d likely taken the room’s silence as an invitation to go on and was wondering why you hadn’t done the same.

Pushing down the rushing sensation that threatens to burst from your chest, you clear your throat again.

“I’m sorry. As- as I was saying, Silco is someone to be feared because his reach is enormous. With trade routes, shimmer, and control of the Undercity mines, he relies on fear to keep things in order.”

“He may seem kind, but it’s a show. Silco cuts people off from the outside world and makes sure they have no choice but to rely on him.”

You hope Viktor is able to pick up on the distinctions — though you will never be able to properly apologise for the way that you left him, you hope the short explanation will fill in certain gaps.

Taking a slow breath, you look at the ground as you say, “…I had my only chance at happiness taken away when I was nineteen, all so I could stay behind and fulfill the role he needed me to. It's been six years."

“He holds people I care about over my head to this day.” You frown, looking at each of the councilors meaningfully. “But, I’m sick of it. So, please. On the off chance that you will listen to my story, let me provide certain important gadgets from the last few years.”

A few beats of silence pass before an impeccably dressed woman raises her hand regally, a slight smile making the golden freckles across her face lift. A light shines over her head as she says,

“I believe this could be worthwhile.”

After her, councilors raise their hands one by one, all noting their own personal thought processes throughout. Relief builds quickly in your chest, and as the officials speak amongst themselves, you try to catch Viktor’s eye. Though, when you find him amongst the group, he is speaking to Jayce, noting something string-like tied to his cane with abstract gestures.

“Actually, convincing them to spare you punishment may not be necessary.” Caitlyn grabs your attention with the quiet statement as the last councilman ponders. “Most seem accepting of your story.”

You can’t help the smile that comes to your face as the last light shines over the lone councilman, signifying his agreement.

“I’m glad.”

The rest of the session is long and tedious. Certain members of the council, while in agreement to listen to your story, certainly don’t have much faith in you. They question you at every turn, and while it’s usually not hard to find an answer, they strain you – ask if you really did take no pleasure in being the creator of such vile weapons, in being the mind behind the tools.

But as you pull each from your bag, explaining them as a guard handles them at a safe distance, you refute each councilor that dares to doubt your explanations. While their acceptance is important, you know fear of the unknown too well. Those who are the loudest are often only scared of what they don’t understand.

However, it’s a shame that the only other person in the room that can truly grasp the situation doesn’t get a vote.

Viktor listens thoughtfully to each of your descriptions. And though you can’t exactly watch for his reactions in the crowded setting, you can practically feel the interest that radiates off the man. A pleased buzz settles into your chest as you continue on.

The moment that likely matters the most is when you finally reach the bottom of the bag, where only one object remains. Hesitantly, you reach for what could be the day’s catalyst.

“This,” You hold up the leather bound notebook in one hand, not turning around to face the council members just yet. “Is not my creation, but I felt it was important to show it today.”

Cautiously, you turn around, taking the journal into one hand to feel for the crystals kept in the front. A wave of relief goes through you when you feel them inside.

“These were stolen from labs here and passed over to me a few weeks ago, with the hope that I would be able to make use of the notes and Hexcrystals inside.”

Quiet gasps echo through the room as you take experimental steps towards Jayce. You hold them up in a silent offer, but rather than take them directly, he lets Viktor stand and reaches for them instead. You hand them over with a bated breath, noting the slight flicker that goes through his eye when your hands briefly touch.

“I didn’t let them have any of it.” You mumble, not even sure if Viktor had heard you until his lips quirk up into a small smile.

“I know.”

But, he makes a show of flipping through the pages as you stand there anyway, making sure nothing is missing amongst the notes and crystals you’d returned.

“I believe nothing is missing.” Viktor nods to Jayce, who you hadn’t noticed was already borderline studying your face. You realise then that it was essentially impossible for him to have not picked up on the exchange between you and Viktor, not that there’s anything you can do about it.

You take a step back when he nods, Viktor’s eyes lingering on yours for what is perhaps a count too long.

The session ends with the council’s promise to look deeper into Silco’s endeavours, and a collective sigh of relief is released amongst the three of you that had requested the audience. When you exit the room, it is with hope for a changed world, and faith that the Undercity will finally be acknowledged in the way it deserves to be.

But, there is one other notion of change that is more unique to you.

As the crowd begins to disperse, you tuck yourself into a more hidden corner of the hall in hopes that the person you want to see will emerge. And luckily, as the last strings of conversation leave earshot, the large doors open yet again,

Something in your chest tightens as the distinct sound of a crutch hitting the marble floor sounds through the hall. Six years of pain and uncertainty come undone the moment Viktor’s eyes meet yours. He is tired and noticeably older, but the person you remember still lies in the way he smiles at you, in the way he makes his way over to you without faltering.

When he stops in front of you, your voice goes breathy as you shrug, “I told you I could do it.”

Viktor beckons you forward and you waste no time in taking the invitation, wrapping your arms around his torso. He lets out a stagnated breath as you sink into him.

“And I told you that I believed you could.” He whispers, letting you take some of his weight and pressing his chin into your hair.

You release an unsteady breath, heart pounding against his. In a way, it's like no time has passed at all -- you're both still standing in the ridiculously fancy hostel Heimerdinger had summoned you to, connected for the last time as you waited for the unknown.

But, things aren't the same. As he holds you now, there is nothing that you would let pull you away as Silco did back then.

Suddenly, you part from him far enough to look at his face, brow creasing with worry as if you’d just remembered something. Viktor looks at you with easy curiosity as you swipe a thumb beneath his eye, over the curve of his cheek.

“...What happened to you?” You ask softly, noting the pain that strikes through his gaze.

He frowns, and suddenly, he looks exhausted.

“I’m sick, ___.” Viktor admits quietly. “And, I don’t think I can fix it.”

Your heart stops. What’s worse is it’s viable, a good explanation for the changed man you see in front of you. But you don’t want it to be true, you don’t want the possibility of losing him again –of losing him for good.

Abruptly, he pulls back, eyes roving over your face. You stare at him blankly, unable to process his actions so quickly.

“The prognosis revealed my illness was due to pollution from the Undercity.” He explains, his own gaze looking for the tell-tale imperfections of sickness in your face. “You spent a lot of time in the same areas I did, have you felt anything?”

Quickly, you shake your head, still reeling from the strong sense of concern for you that he’d never seemed to shake – not even when he is the only one blatantly in danger.

“No-no, nothing.” You assure him, wishing your heart didn’t pick up the way it does when he releases a sigh of relief. “But, you–”

You go quiet, biting the inside of your cheek as your eyes flit around. Perhaps if you think hard enough, you can think of a way to help him. Though, in your endeavours, your gaze catches on something else – the ‘string’ you’d seen tied to his crutch previously is now noticeable at the close distance.

Silently, you reach down towards it, lips parting in surprise. Viktor’s free hand rests lightly on your waist.

“You-?” You have a hard time getting the right words out as you take the small charm between your fingers, thumbing open the small cartridge to see two small faces. “You’re ridiculous. You really kept this?”

The locket you had given him the day you’d last seen each other, over six years ago, has stayed with him. The surface is more worn than you remember, attesting to the sheer number of times it had probably been pried open.

Tears finally prick behind your eyes as Viktor smiles thoughtfully, a careful hand placement beneath your chin bringing your gaze back up to his. “It was your promise, I was only waiting for you to fulfill it.”

You don’t know what you’re thinking. The moment is crude, and it’s still unclear as to whether or not Viktor still holds the same feelings he did back then – but despite this, despite everything telling you to step back and think, you take the hand that hovers beneath your chin and kiss him.

When he momentarily falters, you pull back immediately.

You suck in a short breath. “I’m sorry, I–”

Viktor cuts you off fairly quickly, guiding you by your own hand and directly back into him. He kisses you gently, tenderly, like he’d been waiting ages for this moment. And in a way, perhaps you have been too.

When he releases you, the sensation of his breath mingling with yours brings a small smile to your face.

“I’ll help you.” You promise it softly without thinking, slightly breathless. “Whatever you can’t fix on your own, we can fix together.”

“That is, if you choose to let me help you complete such a goal.”

Viktor shakes your hand a bit in mock exasperation, shocking a laugh out of you. “You’re insufferable.”

You had always thought you would die young and angry. But, you can’t quite remember the day that changed – simply put, life has always been a struggle. A constant game of tug of war between you and an invisible entity. But on the days you felt that you couldn’t handle it anymore, that the weight of your mistakes was simply too heavy to bear, you had someone to turn to. Even after those said mistakes tore him away from you, there was still always an inkling of your partner that stayed with you.

Such is the power of connection. Viktor gave you what you needed to feel alive, and breathed hope back into your fragile lungs even as dirt clouded you.

When you look at the fragile man in front of you, you don’t see him as someone who’s beyond saving – if anything, he is a reflection of the person you’d once known. Your roles have been reversed, and it is finally time to repay his favour to you.

#is this too ooc i couldn't tell - i think its good but ??/?/? #arcane #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor arcane

[irethepotato]

💕Genshin Content Creator Appreciation Week! 💕

Duration of the event: 20 Nov- 27 Nov

Christmas is getting nearer and nearer each day and a lot of us are stressful, whether it's because of exams. work, or just stressful in general. Let's support each other for during this stressful time!

@3rdgymbros came up with this idea in Discord and we have been brainstorming a bit on how to carry this out since the end of October. We noticed that a lot of these Tumblr events/games often require people to either write a fic, draw a fanart or exclusively between moots only.

Now it's time to give the spotlight to other genshin content creators! This week long event is where everyone can give their appreciation to a genshin content creator who they think deserve more recognition. No writing/making art/etc needed! Just giving out love for them 💞💞💞

Here's the best part of this event: ANYONE can join.I'll explain more in the rules and details under the cut

Rules, details and participants are under the cut.

Reblog this post to spread the word and the good vibes!

Rules and details:

1. ANYONE can join this event. It doesn't matter if you don't write fanfics or make fanart, whether you have 5k followers or 20 followers. This event is open for EVERYONE.

2. From 20 Nov till 27 Nov; Post your appreciation at least once a day. If you want to do more than once, go ahead! Go crazy. Just make sure to post it on your time zone to avoid any confusion.

3. No writing/making fanart needed! Just give out your appreciation for them. For example:

1st day of genshin content creator appreciation week

This person!

Why I chose them: Could be something simple like them being a nice person for creating a safe space in Tumblr, you love their writing, etc

My personal fav content from them: Insert a link of it here

Go check em out!

You could use the example as a format or make your own! Just be sure to tag the person that you chose, your fav content from them (with the link!) and a tag: #genshin appreciation week

4. It's fine for you to choose moots but it is heavily encourage for people joining the event to give their appreciation to non-moots. (Dw we still love y'all) Like I said, I want this to be able to include anyone and not just moots. Think of it as a surprise for them!

5. Qna is open! If you have any questions about the event, send me an ask or message me. I'll do my best to clear out any confusion. (Also this is my first time organizing an event so bear with me)

People who are interested in participating the event:

@lilikags

@ohmykazuha

@simplyxsinned

@bumbleklee

@the-gayest-sky-kid

@eggmarr

@paradise-creator

@almondoufu

@todorki-shoto

@tartagilicious

@witch-hazels-musings

@fuwon

@albed-hoe

@haliya-mori

@kazuharem

#genshin impact #genshin appreciation week

[ohmykazuha]

jia's mutuals list!

please follow them. hehe.

@hushyouu @justsidecharacterthings @severedftaes @ghostly-march @abyssheart @almondoufu @yeetmeoffjueyunkarst @cxlrose @k-kazvha @mayple @alonelysimp @teyvattherapist @myluvkeiji @liarchive @helpidkwhattoput @irethepotato @favoniuscodex @favonius-captain @stellumi @rganvindr @rulaineyu, @haliya-mori, @kazuharem, @aweebstuff @almond-adeptus @solaaresque @wangshuu, @thaliastea, @yuezhong, @catcze, @mooscutely, @mikachuchu, @cerasus--flores, @hqrbinger, @3rdgymbros, @simp-lyzity

i'll add on the rest later >< please comment your name under the other post so i can add you in! or if you're unclear about your status, shoot me an ask!

#jia's thoughts 🍵 #they are all v v v epic cool people go and follow

[interwoven-fates]

Thank you to everyone who applied in this round of applications! Please join us in welcoming our twenty-one newest members:

@abyssheart @ajaxeology @akirasgalaxy @beria1021 @bluexiao @cr4yolaas @favonius-captain @ghostly-march @inazummi @intertwinedtruth @irethepotato @izukxnnie @kazuharem​ @k-kazvha @rushipedia @severedftaes @somemothgoingferal @spookii-does-stuff @tartagilicious @teyvatdreams @thewangshuinn

All new members should have received a message through dms or askbox about the next steps to take to join the network’s server. If you have not gotten a message, please dm @reddriot​!

If you were unable to apply for the server this time around, don’t worry! Keep an eye out for a new application post and form that will be made available soon. 

Until then, remember: astra inclinant; sed non obligant.

#announcements

[kazuharem]

Hello my lovelies! I am back with a brand new name! 🤩 I would be so happy if you guys can rb this to signal boost!

Previously: Lucult

Currently: Kazuharem

I’m working on updating my links ASAP!

#blog update #name change #kazuharem #pls reblog #welcome to the mess

[kazuharem]

Welcome to Elaina’s Library

✾ AO3: here

✾ Mr. Love Queen’s Choice Masterlist

✾ Genshin Impact Masterlist

Random Things:

‣  Why I love Lucien (Shitpost): Part I | Part II

‣   List of Recordings for Dates / Calls

‣  My fangirling over Lucien’s QIXI2 Date

‣  @flowerpoem​‘s Birthday edits for me

‣  @seerie​ and @tartagilicious​‘s Birthday fic for me

‣   Ela’s 200 Followers Celebration

Others: 

‣  Answered Asks / Other things

‣  Tag Index

Requests are not open right now 😔 please have mercy

#elainabearie #masterlist #fanfic #fanfiction #mr. love queen's choice #mlqc #mr love dream date #mldd #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fanfiction #恋与制作人 #genshin impact #genshin #GI #genshin fanfic #lucult #genshin fanfiction #master list #kazuharem

[kazuharem]

Tag Index

WRITING:

☙ #not-my-writing / #not_mine ↣ Works not written by me

☙ #my-writing ↣ Works written by me

☙ #Ela’s-♡s ↣ Some of my favorite works

☙ #Ela’s filth ↣ NOTSFW material (MINORS BLOCK THIS TAG AND DNI)

☙ #request ↣ list of requested works

OTHER:

☙ #tumblr-tag-games

☙ #elainabearie / #lucult / #kazuharem ↣ personal blog tag

☙ #other-things ↣ stuff not related to writing, random things I like, etc.

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[kazuharem]

It’s the new year and of course my tags aren’t working for the new Xiao piece 😭😭😭

Tumblr, I am begging you, please

Anyways, I’m gonna repost the fic - hope y’all don’t mind 😭

#kazuharem #help are my tags working now #tumblr pls

[tartagilicious]

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, fem!reader (she/her prns), lil bit of the misunderstanding trope, friends to enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, sword to throat moment, 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. “you see, 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.

#im gonna go waterboard myself in the bathroom sink gn #kazuha #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #fem reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha #genshin kazuha #kazuha genshin impact #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact smut

[ohmykazuha]

to my followers, mutuals, and anons:

happy new year!

it’s been such a wild ride in this lovely place. from starting this blog on the 6th of july 2021, to writing my first request, to making a series, and to gaining all these lovely friendships on this site — thank you for taking me along on this journey and being so welcoming.

to the we need therapy group: holy hell, it’s been a ride. remember how the group chat started? i love all of you so so much. thank you for being there whenever i broke down in tears on the other aide of the screen. i’m so glad to be able to call you my best friends on this site. 🤍 thank you for being here.

to the discord server (cof): you guys have been the coolest people to go through my 2021 with. i love the karaoke sessions and the nights where we can just chill in VC with each other, or scream over genesis’ cosplays, or hype each other up in writing-hell. all of you are so so amazing and i really do love each and every one of you. 🤍

to the wellness room: it’s been amazing seeing all of you grow and love yourselves more. i know i’m not the most active over there and i’m terribly sorry, but i hope you know that i’m incredibly proud of all of you for existing and giving your best each day. you all mean so much to me. i love you all. 🤍

to glowing up together 2022: oohhh man. this started off as a lil dream for ages, did you know that? but i’m so thankful that people were interested in this passion project of mine. thank you for making my dreams come true. i love all of you so very much and i’m so excited to walk through 2022 with each and every one of you! 🤍

to all my mutuals: thank you for being here for my 2021. you’ve made my year so much better — i looked forward to being with you all after school. thank you for ever single interaction and all the laughter you’ve brought me. i really do love all of you and i hope we have more good memories this year!

so, yes. thank you everyone! i didn’t manage to do a personalised one, but i thank you all for sticking beside me! love u guys so so much hehe 🤍

obligatory moots tag: @hushyouu @justsidecharacterthings @severedftaes @ghostly-march @abyssheart @almondoufu @yeetmeoffjueyunkarst @cxlrose @k-kazvha @mayple @alonelysimp @teyvattherapist @myluvkeiji @liarchive @helpidkwhattoput @irethepotato @favoniuscodex @favonius-captain @stellumi @rganvindr @rulaineyu, @haliya-mori, @kazuharem, @aweebstuff @almond-adeptus @solaaresque @wangshuu, @thaliastea, @yuezhong, @catcze, @mooscutely, @mikachuchu, @cerasus–flores, @hqrbinger, @3rdgymbros, @simp-lyzity, @xienn @xiaosmoon, @sohyuki @datu-tadhana @xyliope , @bookuya, @starglitterz, @withloveajaxx, @paradise-creator, @alatusxiaoo @kazewhara, @glazelilyy, @scaramew, @chichikoi, @test-tube, @mityas-temptation, @xiao-cafe, @alberivh, @yaqui-soba, @keqinxd, @noirkkat, @aequha, @yanbub, +++ so many more of you whichh i will only be able to tag later 🥲 (so sorry if yall got double tagged or not tagged ahh i have a lot of mutuals..)

edit: i might have to part 2.. let me collate my mutual list again..

#jia’s thoughts 🍵 #jia’s moots 🎎 #i’m so sorry i’ll add on to the thing ltr TuT