(lit. Wind, Moon; Pronounced "fengyue") Meaning "beautiful Scenery" Or "romance".

风月 (lit. wind, moon; pronounced "fengyue") — meaning "beautiful scenery" or "romance".

In which you drag Dan Heng halfway across the universe for a candied fruit skewer, and he gets a taste of the life that was once denied to him. (dan heng x gn!reader)

7.5k words of fluff and romance! Features an established relationship and many Chinese cultural elements. Cultural/Translation notes at the end. Note that "Yinyue-jun" is the Chinese for "Imbibitor Lunae". Reader's appearance is undefined, but they were raised on the Luofu and in the Xianzhou culture. Dividers by @/saradika.

Written for the Meet Fruit collab! Prompt: Dan Heng + Hawberry

It is absurdly difficult to find hawberries on this side of the Triangulum Galaxy.

Dan Heng discovers this after you begin a laser-focused mission to acquire some, scouring the grocery stores of three consecutive Astral Express stops for the elusive fruit. Why you're so obsessed with finding them, he doesn't know. He guesses he'd maybe triggered some kind of nostalgia for them when he'd made an offhand comment about tanghulu a few weeks back.

I’ve never actually had them before, was all he’d said. It had been such a brief remark; he's surprised it stuck with you.

He'd mentioned it in the archives, while sitting with you on the futon spread across the glowing floor. You'd been leaning against his shoulder, idly skimming the novella in his hands: a Xianzhou literary piece. Highly introspective, full of complicated relationships, blatantly romantic in its subject matter. The protagonist and his wife had been at a festival for lovers: Qixi Jie. It's a day widely celebrated throughout the Alliance, Dan Heng knows from all his books, and inspired by a myth about an ill-fated love between two immortals.

The couple had decided to share a skewer of tanghulu, and you'd been reading the scene when you sighed, Wish we could have one together. Then you gave him a teasing smile. You know, Heng’er—I didn’t think you'd be into this kind of story. Who knew you were such a romantic!

I’m not actually, he'd replied. But of course, you hadn’t believed him, and you ended up pestering him about his taste in romance novels for the better part of an hour. Apparently you were looking for a new one to read, but he had no trashy webnovel recommendations for you.

It is the truth that Dan Heng does not gravitate toward love stories. This novel is not his usual fare, and he'd likely have little interest in this sort of fiction coming from any other world. But he'd enjoyed the sentimental tone of this particular story, set upon the Luofu: he'd liked the way the text lingered on the golden warmth of its sun, on the frenetic bustle of its street markets, on the calm beauty of its starry nights. Even the smallest of actions, in the voice of this author, carried with them a quiet magic. The wind, the moon, the heavens and the earth—all of it had felt so palpable between those pages.

Of course, Dan Heng has never experienced any of that firsthand. For all he knows, everyday life on the Luofu might be as tiresome as it is on any other world. Certainly you’ve complained about it a great deal during your tales about your childhood spent there with your shifu: the traffic was terrible, the seaside markets were too crowded, and the fishmonger always tried to scam me! Supposedly, the air quality was going downhill by the time you had to leave, too.

Maybe Dan Heng would be equally disenchanted by it all. Maybe he'd hate the rush hour commute, the raucous streets, the ozone in the recycled air. Maybe the sun and the stars would simply feel like a backdrop to the mundanity of daily life. He can’t be certain that the reality of the Luofu is anything like the dream-like world painted within any book.

But he is certain about this: that for the fleeting moment he’d been allowed outside, Dan Heng had, for the first time, gazed upon the world on which he’d been born—

—and it had been beautiful.

Tanghulu Recipe:

Wash and dry 30 hawberries – substitute crabapple? gege allergic. will do strawberries.

Sterilize a bamboo skewer in hot water, and use it to skewer the hawberries

Add 150 grams of rock sugar to 150 grams of hot water; heat until boiling, then keep on high heat until all the sugar has melted

Once large bubbles start to form, turn to low heat and simmer until the mixture turns yellow

Roll the hawthorn skewers along the surface of the mixture until the syrup coats the entire skewer. – SHIJIE SAYS MUST BE QUICK! and not ugly!

Allow the skewers to cool at room temperature. – best to eat fresh, can freeze

“You seem disappointed,” Dan Heng remarks.

On any normal day, you'd give your boyfriend full attention at the mere sound of his voice: eyes set upon his features, diligently noting every microexpression and quirk of his lips. (In general, you pay an awful lot of attention to his lips.) But things are different today, and you hardly look at him.

Your gaze is instead occupied with the candied fruit in your hands: strawberries that Dan Heng had washed and cut a little while ago, strung up on a metal skewer that the Express chefs had donated to you. Each strawberry is glossy with a layer of syrup, a sugary concoction that you’d spent a half hour stirring. It had cooled by the time you sampled the fruit, a hard crunch between your teeth. The aftertaste is still in your mouth, sweet and tart.

It’s—it’s not bad.

“Did I say I was disappointed?” you ask, still studying your handiwork.

“You don’t have to say it. I can tell.”

Without warning, Dan Heng takes the strawberry tanghulu from your hands, and you squawk.

“Gege! There’s, like, ten other skewers!”

“Hm. That’s too bad. I want this one.”

There is not even a single trace of remorse in his eyes as he takes his first bite. He seems only contemplative as he chews, humming as he samples it.

"It's good," he says decisively. He raises a brow when he looks at you. "Why are you unhappy with it?"

"It is good," you admit, "but it isn't… traditional. Strawberry tanghulu is tasty, but, like—I grew up eating the haw ones, you know? That's the classic flavour. Like, when you read a novel and there's a Lantern Festival, the characters are having haw skewers. Not strawberry ones."

"Does it matter if I'm eating what I read about?" Dan Heng asks, and it takes everything not to say yes.

It's always been plain as day to you that Dan Heng is enamoured with the Luofu. He's always working his way through some Xianzhou novel, or trying to acquire an old film set on the Luofu, or labouring in the archives while a Xianzou drama plays in the background. At first you'd assumed that this was all motivated by some kind of nostalgia for his birthplace, a longing for a life that he'd been forced to leave—

—but then you found out that Dan Heng never actually had a life on the Luofu.

He'd been born and raised in a prison, he once confided in you. He didn't see the Luofu sun until he was an adult, and it was only for a moment before he was sent into exile. He hadn't been allowed a home, hadn't been allowed a family, hadn't even been allowed the privilege of breathing fresh air. The rich scent of bao being fried in the crisp morning air, the mad clamour of the streets at night, the act of sitting at a kitchen table and folding hundreds of dumplings with your loved ones: his childhood had been devoid of all those things.

All the things you once took for granted are things that Dan Heng's only ever experienced through books.

You've made it a mission to have him experience some of it now, of course. Taught him how to knead dough and showed him all the different dumpling folds you learned from your Shifu. Forced him to sit down for proper breakfasts and had him try youtiao and soy milk, which have now become comfort foods. Bought mooncakes for his first Mid-Autumn Festival and watched his complicated expressions as he bit into duck egg yolk for the first time (decidedly not a comfort food).

And—on God—you will also watch him have proper tanghulu made from hawberries!

"Eh. I guess it's not that important," you lie. "But I have a craving for it, Gege." You give him a killer pair of puppy eyes, and he visibly pauses. "Can we go to a market that might sell some? Or maybe find a street festival? Actually, you know—I don't even know the last time I went to a festival… Wouldn't it be fun to go?"

"I've actually never been to one," Dan Heng replies casually, and you gawk.

"You've never been to a festival?"

"Not a Xianzhou festival." He pauses, as if thinking. "Not any markets either."

"...how?"

"I've always avoided Alliance ships."

"But—but there's plenty of people with Xianzhou heritage who aren't with the Alliance?! Like—like on Xinghan Space Station! You've never visited?"

"Not aside from that one time we were there for business," he replies. "It's not like I ever go on vacation."

"Why not?!"

"Being constantly hunted for revenge makes it hard," Dan Heng deadpans, and he doesn't seem bothered, but you feel distinctly terrible about it.

"...okay. I'm forcing you to take a vacation on July 7th and 8th."

Dan Heng stares. "Why?"

"Because we're going to Xinghan to get some tanghulu."

He doesn't even blink. "Not a chance."

"Eh? Why not!"

"Because that's a silly reason to go so far out of our way." His eyes flicker, stress lines shifting and disappearing: possibly his most frequent microexpression around you. "And what if I'm recognized? We could be attacked."

"That's fine," you wave off. "If someone tries to kill Gege, I'll just kill them first."

"..."

"What? It'd be self-defense."

"...lethal violence should not be your first response to a threat."

"But it would be an effective one."

He gives you a flat look. Not for the first time, you wonder how a man who fights for a living manages to be such a pacifist.

"...okay, okay. If I promise not to kill anyone—will you go with me?" You latch onto his arm, pulling out all the stops and giving him your most pleading eyes. "I just want to have a romantic night together, Gege. We haven't been on a real date in so long."

It's nearly imperceptible, but Dan Heng falters. There are clearly two wolves inside him: one that wants to be responsible, and one that wants to spoil you.

It's obvious which one is winning.

"Qixi Festival is coming up," you add, a lilt to your voice, "and I bet we could find somewhere to celebrate it. Wouldn't it be nice to spend it together, Heng'er?"

He stares at the candied fruit in his hands: all strawberries that he washed and cut without a word, before you'd even thought to ask. Food that he'd made and tasted—like so many other dishes before it—only because you demanded it, no matter how troublesome it was to do it.

"...I'll go put in my vacation request with Himeko," he decides.

THE QIXI FESTIVAL is traditionally celebrated around the 7th day of the 7th month on the Xianzhou Normalized Calendar, with adjustments made for time dilation effects depending on distance between ships and proximity to large celestial bodies. Elsewhere in the universe, the Qixi Festival is celebrated in locations with significant populations of Xianzhou diaspora, such as the Xinghan Space Station and the Chang’E Moon Settlement. These settlements typically observe the Qixi Festival on July 7th per their local calendar dates. – Double check Xinghan dates; confirm ETA with Pompom. Has July 7th already passed on Xinghan's local calendar? CELEBRATORY PRACTICES vary significantly between different settlements, and even between the Xianzhou Alliance ships themselves. They may include street festivals, temple fairs, sewing competitions, and the worship of certain immortals and Aeons. In some places, people celebrate with a simple date night. Being the lover’s festival, many couples aim to get married on this day. – Search later: What do boyfriends get their partners for Qixi? DESPITE THESE VARIATIONS, all observances are dedicated to celebrating the myth of the Cowherd (personification of the star Altair; Bayer designation: Alpha Aquilae) and the Weaver Girl (personification of the star Vega; Bayer designation: Alpha Lyrae). IN THIS XIANZHOU FOLKTALE, the Cowherd and Weaver Girl were two immortals who fell in love and entered a forbidden relationship. The Jade Aeon tore them apart from one another, and they were shortly after banished to opposite sides of the Heavenly River (otherwise known as the Milky Way, within the Virgo Supercluster of galaxies). From henceforth, they lived separately, only able to watch—

“Wow, Gege,” you say, and Dan Heng nearly drops his book. “This is the most romantic myth in all of Xianzhou history, and you’re reading the driest possible textbook summary to learn about it? Why didn't you just ask me?” You lean over his shoulder, squinting at the page. “What the hell is a ‘Bayer designation’? 'Vega'?! Her name is Zhinü!”

Dan Heng is momentarily too bewildered to feel embarrassed about being caught with this book. "You don't know what a Bayer designation is? Don't you have a pilot's license? How on earth do you navigate in space?"

"Well, I have a tendency of getting lost…"

With significant horror, Dan Heng reflects on every moment he's allowed you to pilot the spacecraft the two of you sometimes use to get away for dates.

"...I am never letting you drive again."

"Fine by me, Gege! I'll rely on you from now on." You beam at him, pressing into his shoulder. Then—again, with significant horror—Dan Heng notices that you're reading his annotations in the book.

He instantly snaps it shut, but the damage is done: you turn to him with a wide, giddy smile, and start pawing at his arm with excitement.

"'What do boyfriends get their partners for Qixi?' Heng'er—were you trying to research this for me?"

Dan Heng considers lying for a moment. There are countless potential explanations as to why he decided to consult a textbook instead of going to you. He could easily say that you'd probably forget details in recounting the myth, and that wouldn't do because he'd wanted a comprehensive explanation (true). Or he was genuinely wanting to check the dates because he knew you wouldn't have accounted for different calendars (also true). He'd doubted that you'd remember that not everyone in the universe operates on Interastral Standard Time—a fair suspicion, given that you don't even know what a Bayer Designation is.

But seeing your radiant, pleasantly surprised smile—Dan Heng decides not just to lose face, but to practically obliterate it.

"Yes," he plainly confesses. "I wanted to know how to celebrate the Qixi Festival properly with you." He tries to ignore the heat prickling the back of his neck. "...and I wanted to surprise you."

You go a little wide-eyed, blinking—probably as surprised about the admission as him—and then peck him on the cheek, smiling. "Heng'er, you don't need to worry about celebrating properly or improperly. As long as you spend both days with me, I'm happy enough."

He hesitates. Truthfully, he's read probably an upward of a thousand novels and poems that mention the Qixi Festival and the associated myth—but nothing about how people on the Luofu celebrate it nowadays.

How you would have celebrated it.

"I just want to make sure you enjoy yourself," he explains. "And that I do all the things I should be doing. I have no experience with this… I didn't even know it was a two-day celebration."

"Huh? It's not."

"...it's not?"

"Well, I guess some places have events that happen over several days—but that's not a traditional thing. Qixi Festival is technically just one day."

He raises a brow. "Then why did you want the 8th off too?"

"Because I want to have a romantic evening with you on the 7th, and then a romantic night with you in the hotel, and then a romantic morning with you on the 8th."

"..."

"I'm talking many, many rounds of romance, Gege. That's the greatest gift you could give me."

"...of course it is."

You beam at him, exceptionally pleased. (Why or how, Dan Heng's not actually certain; it's not like you don't already have as many rounds of sex with him as the day allows.) But it still bothers him: the reality that he's never celebrated this before. That he won't know how to do all the right things, or what the right things even are.

The honey-sweet sesame taste of qiaoguo, which stars to look for in the sky, presents that he should gift you: he's never known any of these things, but will soon know them with you.

Or possibly fuck them all up with you.

"How did you celebrate the Qixi Festival when you were on the Luofu?" Dan Heng asks, somehow remaining expressionless.

You don't seem to catch onto his nerves, only pondering the question.

"Um… well, honestly, I didn't really."

Dan Heng stares. "What?"

"Well, like, Shifu took me to temple fairs and stuff. My friend participated in a sewing competition too, once, and I watched her. But I was a kid when I lived on the Luofu—they drove us out when I was still pretty young. I wasn't exactly going on romantic date nights at that age."

"...I see."

Lacing your fingers through his, you stare at your joined hands. Your voice is a little tender when you say, "The way I see it, Heng'er—I don't think we need to think about celebrating it the right way or the wrong way. We're gonna be lovers at the lovers' festival, which is good enough."

Dan Heng considers your words, his thumbpad running along the curve of your hand. "Is that right?"

"Yes! Like—who cares what lovers on the Luofu do with each other? It's much more important what my lover does with me." You pause, then, seeming thoughtful. "....as long as he tries some tanghulu while we're at it."

Dan Heng feels like he's drunk a nauseating amount of that tanghulu syrup—but also like his chest is going to combust. It's an unusual cross of emotions. He'll never get used to it, even though he experiences it nearly daily when you're around. And he'll never know the words to use, even though he's searched for them so often.

"...is food all that matters to you when you celebrate this?" is all can bring himself to say, voice dry.

"And the romance," you add neatly, not the least bit ashamed.

Dan Heng’s mouth twitches.

"Right, of course. The romance."

Thank you for booking with Xinghan Grand Hotel!

As one of this world’s finest establishments, we are pleased to host you for your stay on July 7th through July 8th.

Xinghan is a vast space station, remarkable for its terrestrial landscape and breathtaking countryside. Founded by Xianzhou natives several centuries ago, the beautiful scenery at the outer regions of the station mimics that of their various home worlds. Xinghan City itself is a vibrant and cosmopolitan metropolis with influences from planets all throughout the Pinwheel Galaxy.

You are encouraged to make full use of our concierge services to help you shape an itinerary for your stay. Our staff are happy to help you navigate the remarkable sights of Xinghan. Whether you are here for business or pleasure, there is something for everyone on the Heavenly River.

We look forward to your stay with us, Dan Heng Xiansheng.

Celebrating the Qixi Festival on Xinghan Station is hell.

The station itself is, of course, nearly idyllic in its beauty. And objectively, your romantic getaway with Dan Heng is lovely from start to finish. The two of you check into a gorgeous—and shockingly expensive—hotel in a quiet corridor of the city, not far from the outskirts of the station. The lobby alone startles you with its high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and marbled floors. You don't know if you've ever stayed in such a nice place.

(When you ask Dan Heng how much money he blew on this trip, he merely shrugs and says not to worry about it. You’d be terrified if it were anyone else who'd done the booking—certainly, Dan Heng would be terrified if you had—but your boyfriend is too fiscally responsible for you to question it too much.)

The concierge at the hotel provides a sightseeing itinerary that would be “perfect for a honeymoon”, taking advantage of all the Qixi deals at restaurants and theme parks. Dan Heng, though, seems more interested in exploring all the everyday happenings of the station. He asks to go to the morning market (you’ve never seen a man so enthralled by cheap fried dough), talks you into hiking the mountains so that he can take pictures of the rice terraces (you cheat by using your flying sword to carry the both of you up), and asks to stroll around the seaside harbour. You lounge there for a little, sitting on a bench and watching the junks drift by, their sails fluttering in the wind.

You frown as you study the ships.

“Why don’t they just use pneumatic tubes for transporting goods? Or automated starskiffs?” you ponder. “Like—this looks like a planet. But it’s still a space station at the end of the day.”

“The ships are likely more appealing to tourists,” Dan Heng says smartly.

“Huh. Does it appeal to you?”

“It’s—”

Dan Heng’s reply is drowned by the high-pitched trill of a reed, then the thunder of a gong: the unmistakable sound of a wedding.

Laughter and cheering fill the pier as a procession of men file through, bearing a fire-red palanquin. Both of you turn to watch the spectacle, and—even though this is your tenth time hearing the suona since you woke up this morning, which is absolute hell for your ears, and decidedly making Qixi absolute hell for you—you cheer and yell your blessings as they pass.

Through the beaded curtain of the sedan, you think you make out a wave from the bride.

“That textbook wasn’t exaggerating about people wanting to get married on Qixi,” Dan Heng muses as they trail away, their song growing faint. “I’ve never seen a Xianzhou wedding procession before today. Now I’ve seen nine.”

“Ten,” you correct him. “And you’ll probably see ten more before the night starts. Ah, Gege, my eardrums are going to burst at this rate…”

When you lean against him and feign exhaustion, he rolls his eyes. “So dramatic,” he says, though his hand presses against the small of your back, as if to steady you. “You don’t find it nice?”

“It's fine, I guess?" You squint at him. "Why? Do you find it nice? Are you the kind of person that really likes weddings, Gege?”

“I’ve never been to one, so I don’t know,” he says simply. “But it seems like people are enjoying themselves, and that’s never a bad sight.”

You give him a keen look, studying the way he watches the procession disappear around the corner—clearly intrigued by it. For someone who so often says that they don’t enjoy love stories, Dan Heng has been oddly fixated on every celebration of love you've come across today.

How interesting.

“Say, Gege…” Your voice is teasing. “Wanna elope?”

Dan Heng visibly pauses, blinking twice before turning to stare at you.

“What?”

You stifle a laugh. “Many people have proper weddings during Qixi Festival,” you say, smiling, “but tons of people also just decide to elope. All the wedding registry offices are probably crazy busy right now, but I bet we could find one that could squeeze us in and tie the knot for us. What do you say?”

He shoots you down instantly: “No way.”

“Eh? Why?” You look at him all hurt, your lower lip wobbling. “You don’t wanna marry me, Gege?”

“No.”

“Wow! That hurts, Ge!”

Dan Heng snorts. He turns to you, and—in an uncharacteristic move, only made possible because the two of you are alone and on a world where no one from the Astral Express is there to gawk at him—he cups your face with his hands.

His voice gets a little soft when he says, “Not today.”

“...oh.”

Your mind goes a little blank as you stare at him, at the tender glint in his jade-like eyes, and the soft curve to his lips—and fuck, who gave your boyfriend the right to look so fucking handsome?

You breathe deeply. Another suona tremors in the distance, and against the waves of the sea, its echo sounds almost soft.

“Not today?” you ask faintly. “But some other day?”

“Yes. Some other day. And…” He looks away, glances at the now-empty street. “...it would be nice to do it properly. Instead of just eloping.”

“Properly,” you repeat. “Like, um. You wanna wear a suit? Exchange rings? Or…" Your eyes follow his line of sight. "Do you mean like that wedding party?”

His head inclines—so slight that you nearly miss it.

“With a palanquin?” you confirm. “And a tea ceremony? You want us to do our three bows and all of that?”

He watches you carefully. “Would it be strange?”

“Huh? No.” You bite your lip. His eyes flick down. You’re finding it increasingly hard to focus with the way that your blood is rushing in your ears. “Why would it be strange?”

“Well, it is a Xianzhou tradition, and we don’t have any Xianzhou family—or, well. We don’t have any family. So it might be… odd.”

“Who cares?” you say. You’re only half-listening to him, too focused on holding back from kissing him. “I wanna see you in red, Heng'er. I bet it's a good colour on you."

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Alright. But it'll look better on you, I’m sure.”

You blink, feeling as startled as your face is hot. Not a romantic, my ass! you can't help but think.

You also can't help but tease him.

“...Heng’er,” you say slowly, a playful edge growing in your voice, “I knew you had a romantic streak in you. Forget Yinyue-jun—I should start calling you Fengyue-ju—mmmph!”

Before you can start running your mouth, Dan Heng silences you the way he knows best.

IN THIS XIANZHOU FOLKTALE, the Cowherd and Weaver Girl were two immortals who fell in love and entered a forbidden relationship. The Jade Aeon tore them apart from one another, and they were shortly after banished to opposite sides of the Heavenly River (otherwise known as the Milky Way, within the Virgo Supercluster of galaxies). From henceforth, they lived separately, only able to watch each other from opposite sides of the river bank. Seeing their grief, every magpie in the world took pity on them and decided to form a bridge across the Heavenly River, allowing them to cross it. The Jade Aeon, also upon witnessing their heartbreak, decided to let them see one another for a single day. According to myth, the birds have since gathered once a year on the seventh day of the seventh month. On that day, the Cowherd and Weaver Girl meet each other at the cusp of the bridge. IN TRADITIONAL CELEBRATIONS OF THE QIXI FESTIVAL, people would look up at the sky at night and admire the stars of Vega and Altair. They would also search for Deneb (Bayer designation: Alpha Cygni), which represents the Bridge of Magpies.

When the sun falls on Xinghan, you and Dan Heng return to the harbour at which you’d been spending your afternoon. Beneath a foreign night sky—illuminated by two oblong moons and stars rippling in the pattern of mares’ tail clouds—the pier is lit by countless lanterns and smiles. Women dressed in traditional robes weave through the crowd, the flowing silk of their ruqun trailing after delicate steps. The fresh seaside air mingles with the spiced fragrance of lamb skewers, the sweetness of cooking dough, the rich scent of grilling vegetables.

And at the centre of it all: your hand clasped tightly in his, guiding him through the chaos to all the dishes and games you loved most from your childhood. To all the things that he’s longed to taste for weeks now, ever since the two of you made these plans.

Dan Heng finds it almost—almost—perfect.

“Dan Heng," a voice calls out from behind the two of you, "Dan Heng! Wait up! I wanna get some corn!”

“What? Why are you getting corn? You can get corn anywhere… C’mon, those lamb skewers were calling to us… begging to be eaten… I can still hear them...”

“You can what now?”

Dan Heng rubs his temple, looking at you.

“Remind me again why you agreed to let March and Caelus come with us,” he says, and you laugh.

“Because festivals are fun with more people,” you say. Then you tilt your head, studying him. “Don’t tell me you’re not having fun, Gege?”

“I’m enjoying myself,” he says honestly, and not even the incomprehensible word salad coming from Caelus' mouth can ruin the mood, with the smile you give him.

You lean in, bring your lips close to his ear. Your breath tickles him as you ask, “Is it just that you want more time alone with me?”

“Well,” he replies, “watching Caelus go through trash wasn’t exactly the night I had planned for us.”

You chuckle. “Okay, okay. I think I have a way of shaking him off.”

Dan Heng gives you a questioning look, but you only wink and tug at his hand. You lead him through the crowds once more, yelling at Caelus and March to follow.

He has a half a mind to ask you to slow down, with how much the two of you are missing at this pace. You pass by a shadow puppetry show, the silhouettes of Niulang and Zhinü dancing on a luminous screen, and Dan Heng wants nothing more than to see the myth play out before his own eyes—but your pull is unrelenting. You skip past a man crafting sugar sculptures, a group of dancers twirling with water sleeves, a rack of crisp potato skewers, and countless other sights that Dan Heng's eyes trail after.

It’s only then that you slow down—and Dan Heng wishes you hadn’t.

The four of you are assaulted by what must be the most horrific stench in the Pinwheel Galaxy. He presses his sleeve against his nose and tries not to gag.

“Is there no garbage disposal at this festival?” Dan Heng asks with plain disgust, while Caelus perks up and simultaneously says, “Smells like there’s a dumpster nearby.”

March pinches her nose. “Ew—let’s get out of here. I wanna see those sugar animals—they looked so cute!”

“No, no," Caelus replies. "We can go back in a bit, I wanna go take a look first…”

He makes a beeline for wherever that ungodly odour is coming from, and March, with a deep sigh, follows him. “I’ll go keep an eye on him,” she says, voice heavy with resignation. “You two enjoy your date.”

“Make sure he doesn’t eat anything weird again,” Dan Heng says, and that makes you laugh. He narrows his eyes at you, noting your completely unbothered expression, and asks, “What’s so funny?”

“That smell isn’t from garbage, Gege. That’s stinky tofu. Completely safe to eat—and it’s actually pretty good, too.” You tilt your head. “I thought it’d be a good way to distract Caelus—but do you want to try some?”

He thinks he might be going green. “Maybe later,” he says, somehow keeping his voice neutral. “Didn’t you want to find tanghulu?”

Dan Heng tries not to sigh with relief when you say, “Oh, true… let’s go look for some.”

Funnily enough, hawberries seem to be as impossible to find on this side of the Triangulum Galaxy as it was on the other.

The two of you have been walking through the stalls for at least half an hour now, on a focused search for the elusive candied skewers. The two of you find an assortment of qiaoguo, a variety of persimmon cakes, and delicately crafted sugar paintings. (“Look, Gege! Let’s request one of the Azure Dragon,” you suggest, triggering an immense headache in Dan Heng.)

But you don’t come across any tanghulu.

After you finally give up, you retreat to a quiet corner of the pier, biting into a peach-shaped qiaoguo while your legs dangle over the water. Dan Heng, himself, has the dulcet taste of bronze sugar melting on his tongue: part of the dragon you’d requested from the sugar painter, set on a bamboo stick. Despite the sweetness of your snacks, Dan Heng picks out a bitter air from you.

You don't say anything, though. The two of you only peer at an artificial sky as you eat, taking in its strange features. There is but a single, round moon within it, and its stars are unusually bright. They run across the black night in a silver river: a precise copy of the Milky Way, in the Virgo Supercluster of galaxies, as seen from Earth.

Xinghan Space Station is capable of large-scale atmospheric projections, Dan Heng had read in the hotel’s travel brochure. Apparently, they like to recreate Earth’s night sky during the Qixi Festival, as an homage to the original stars that gave birth to the myth. They'd only switched it on fifteen minutes ago, and the both of you had stopped to stargaze.

You squint at the constellations above you.

“I have… no idea where Zhinü and Niulang are," you remark.

“No?”

“No… the Luofu never did these atmospheric projections. And—I guess I should be able to figure it out since I've got a licence, but, well… you know I’m not very good at navigating the stars.”

Dan Heng bites off the last of his sugar dragon, then crouches down next to you. Without a word, he raises the bamboo rod and uses it to gesture at the constellation of Lyra. “Zhinü is the brightest star in that cluster over there—right next to those four stars making a parallelogram.” He then points above it, at the constellation of Aquila; your line of sight follows the bamboo skewer closely. “And the bright one over there—that’s Niulang.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, humming. “Does the Bridge of Magpies represent a bridge of stars?” you ask. “Or is that something people made up?”

“It represents Deneb. You can see it there”—the bamboo in his hands points westward—“forming a triangle with Zhinü and Niulang.”

You hum at the information, but otherwise stay quiet. When Dan Heng chances a look at you, he finds you contemplating the sky, staring intently at the Heavenly River.

Though you no longer seem upset, it bothers him that you aren’t glowing the way you’d been half an hour ago. You’d been so alive running with him beneath all the festival lanterns, looking for tanghulu. To an outsider, it might seem odd, how much it ruined your mood when you couldn’t find any—but Dan Heng knows that this isn’t about a simple craving for a candied fruit skewer.

This is about the Luofu.

This is about the food you'd tasted on the Luofu, the scenery you'd gazed upon on the Luofu, the festivals you'd observed on the Luofu—those are the things after which you’ve been chasing, not tanghulu. The ship was once your home, after all, and not a home that you’d willingly left. It’s obvious how much you long for it, what with the way you always ask to cook Xianzhou dishes and observe Xianzhou holidays.

Dan Heng puts an arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

"I'm sorry we couldn’t find you any tanghulu,” he murmurs. “Maybe Chang’E Moon Settlement will have some? I read that they have night markets regularly.”

“...it’s okay,” you say, in a voice clearly indicating the opposite. “I just thought it’d be nice to have at a festival, specifically… maybe we can head to Chang’E for the Lantern Festival.”

“That’s not a bad plan,” he says. “I’ve never celebrated the Lantern Festival.”

That makes you perk up. “Then I’ll have to make sure that Gege has a good time when February rolls around,” you say quite seriously. “I’ll do the trip planning next time—don’t worry about the hotels, or the travel itinerary, or the route to Chang’E—”

“I will plan the route,” he says decisively. “And I’m driving too.”

That makes you laugh. “Okay. You can do that. Ask for two weeks off from work, too. People on Chang’E take the Lantern Festival quite seriously, so—”

A familiar voice interrupts, calling out your names from a distance. You both look back and are met with the sight of Caelus and March running down the pier, waving at you. Caelus is holding what looks—and smells—like a container full of stinky tofu, while March has, in one of her hands—

“You found tanghulu?!” you exclaim. She nods excitedly as she bounces in front of you, two steps short of crashing into your bodies.

“Yeah! You were talking about wanting some earlier, right? So we grabbed one for you."

“I’ve got tofu too, if you'd like,” Caelus adds. March, shockingly, doesn’t berate him for the suggestion (Dan Heng considers it); she only points to it with a bewildered expression.

“It’s actually really good!” she insists. “You gotta hold your breath, but the flavour is great. You should both try it.”

“...I’ll take the tanghulu first,” Dan Heng says, rising from his seat to pluck the skewer out of March's hands. In a calculated move, he beckons you to stand and leads you away from March and Caelus—or, more specifically, away from the smell. While Dan Heng has no doubt that you’d like some of that tofu for yourself, you are predictably much more interested in a romantic moment with your boyfriend in a public space (your favourite type of situation in which to kiss him), so you happily wave goodbye to the pair.

When Dan Heng finally bites into the candied fruit—first cool and hard against his teeth, then sour and sweet on his tongue—he understands why you’d been disappointed with the strawberry tanghulu. It had been good, but it had also been different.

“How do you find it, Gege?” you ask, practically trembling with excitement. He feels his lip quirk.

“It’s good,” he praises. You smile, and Dan Heng finds himself thinking that none of the festival lanterns could ever compare to your expression. “Do you want some?”

“If you feed me,” you say, and Dan Heng rolls his eyes, but he humours you anyway, tilting the skewer toward you so that you can take a bite. The fruit colours your mouth red, and he watches as you hum and lick the sugar off your lips.

“Is it everything you’d hoped for?” he asks.

“Mhm. This is proper tanghulu.”

You seem content enough. You're eating, you're smiling—but something about your eyes bothers Dan Heng. Something about the muted quality of your voice. Something about the way you're studying the skewer in your hands.

Whatever bitterness was plaguing you earlier is still lingering, weighing down your words.

“I know,” Dan Heng says gently. He repeats himself: “But is it everything you’d hoped for?”

That makes you pause, blinking at him. Were you anyone else, Dan Heng is sure that you’d be mystified by the question—but you’re you, and you’re fairly attuned to the workings of his mind, and he’s reasonably discerning about whatever chaos is going on in yours. You have enough mutual understanding for you to stop and consider his question carefully, peering up at the sky.

Dan Heng waits patiently, watching Vega and Altair with you. Watching two stars longing for one another.

“...if it were up to me, Heng’er,” you eventually say, “I’d take you back to the Luofu, and we’d go sightseeing there. We’d visit the seaside town that I grew up in, and we’d go to the market I liked for breakfast food, and you…” You pause for a moment, struggling. “...and you could have met my Shifu. And you could have seen our home—how beautiful it once was. And I’d have taken you out for the Qixi Festival afterwards, and you could have seen the night sky there. Have I ever told you that it's the only stretch of stars I know how to navigate?"

The breath you let out is quiet, nearly drowned by the sighing tide. Dan Heng only hears it because he’s spent so often listening to the soft rhythm of your lungs.

“I wish I could have shown you all that,” you admit. “I’m sorry I can’t. I know you think about going back as much as I do.”

Dan Heng’s eyes soften. You allow his hands to cup your face, to shift it until he’s looking directly into the melancholy of your gaze.

“I don’t need to be on the Luofu,” he says quietly. “I am content to be here with you, I am content to live on the Express with you, and I am content to accompany you for as long as this lifetime will allow. And if you aren’t content with those things—then tell me what it is you long for, so that I can make you feel at home.”

You stare at him for a long while, bringing a hand to rest over the one on your cheek.

“Heng’er…”

“What is it?”

Dan Heng watches a number of emotions flicker through your eyes. He knows each of your microexpressions, because it is second nature for him to watch you carefully, with full attention to the state of your heart. He knows the way your brows lift when you’re surprised, he recognizes the specific quirk of your mouth when you try to stop it from trembling, and he notices the slow blink that you only do when you try to calm down. He knows, too, your instinctive response when you don’t know what to say:

You kiss him.

You kiss him, and it’s not the playful, fleeting sort of kiss that you use to tease him in public, nor is it the sweet and smiling sort that you drew him into earlier during the day, on this very dock. It’s long and deep, soft and tender against his lips, and he returns it fully.

After you pull back, you smile at him, looking more like yourself.

“That’s your second time kissing me in public today,” you comment. “What’s gotten into you, Heng’er?”

“Must be your bad influence,” he replies without a beat, running a thumb along your jawline.

“Oh?” You hum. “I’m not so sure. I think Fengyue-jun’s always been a little sentimental.”

Dan Heng snorts. “If I’m acting like it, then it’s only because you wanted a romantic evening.”

“I guess I did say that.” You link arms with him, pulling him back toward the festival. “Is our night going to be romantic too?”

“Our morning after as well,” he says. He feels his mouth curling at your excited little smile. “Would you like to spend more time here, or return to the hotel for your Qixi gift?”

“Whatever you feel like, Gege.” You press against him. "Just being by your side is enough to make me happy, no matter where it is you want to be.”

Dan Heng ends up choosing to stay at the harbour. It is partly because you’d seemed so keen on the tofu earlier, and he's a little curious about it himself—but it's mostly because he wants to see you in the glow of the festival for a little longer.

Dan Heng suspects that you feel that this night here, on Xinghan Station, is only a substitute for the life you've imagined having with him on the Luofu. Possibly it's inferior to it in every way. And he supposes that you might be right to think this way—that if ever he were given the chance to properly visit the world in which he was born, then he, too, might decide that Xinghan Station is nothing like it. That the lanterns hanging above the two of you right now pale in comparison to the Luofu stars. He can’t be certain.

But he is certain of this: that right now, Dan Heng has the privilege of hearing your laughter weave into festive song, of tasting sugar and berries on your lips, of seeing your smile awash in the light of the Heavenly River—

—and all of it is beautiful.

End

WE DID IT BOYS!! I am… too tired to do full cultural/translation notes but I'll try to hit the major ones 🫡

Translation Notes:

风月 (pronounced "Fengyue") literally means "wind, moon", but the characters taken together may actually mean "beautiful scenery", "romance", or "love making" depending on the context. When you call Dan Heng "Fengyue-jun 风月君", rather than "Yinyue-jun 饮月君", you're making a pun where you're calling him the Lord of Romance rather than the Lord who Drinks the Moon.

Gege is a term meaning "older brother", though it is often used for non-familial relationships that are very close. It has either a childish or flirty edge to it (Ge and Dage, also meaning older brother, are more common between friends).

Shifu means "Teacher", used in the context of a martial relationship. IIRC, Jing Yuan called Jingliu this.

Xinghan is one of the names for the Milky Way in Chinese, as an alternative to Heavenly River.

Chang'E is the name of an immortal who lives on the moon.

Cultural notes:

Qixi Festival is a real celebration that takes place on the seventh day of the seventh month on the Chinese lunar calendar. It is indeed based on the myth of the Cowherd and Weaver Girl. The version of the myth that I put into the story is a paraphrased version of the one I heard growing up, but there are many others. You may also recognise it as the myth of Orihime and Hikoboshi from the Japanese Tanabata festival.

I was researching different ways that people celebrate Qixi Festival around the world, and funnily enough, I actually found that (1) mostly people don't make a big deal of it anymore, and (2) it varies pretty largely between various diaspora communities. Maocity holds a night market festival where there are many foods that our Asian diaspora don't otherwise have the chance to eat (😔✌️), so that's the inspiration for the festival in this story. If you are Chinese elsewhere in the world, Qixi Festival celebrations may look different for you, and I want to acknowledge this in the notes.

There were some references to traditional Chinese wedding practices in this. Here is one video of a wedding procession and here is another (you can hear the suona in this one). Traditionally the palanquin is a "bridal sedan", but for my nblm and mlm readers, I want to note that usually whoever is marrying into the other person's household will ride it (in novels/fics I've read)—so you can imagine either yourself or Dan Heng in the palanquin

Also I couldn't fit this into the story, but I like to imagine that when you and Dan Heng get hitched, you do the tradition of racing each other to your house—but this is just the archives so you're literally just running down the Astral Express, fighting off Caelus and March and co LMAOO.

Thank you for reading! Please drop a line if you enjoyed this… truly I put my whole writerussy into this fic LMAOAO

tagging in @trailblazernet also!!

IMPRINT | dan heng x gn!reader

They say that moles are spots where your lover liked to kiss you in your past life. As Dan Heng is your lover in your current life, you can't help but suggest that the previous Yinyue Jun might be responsible for the mole on your inner thigh. (Or: You learn that Dan Heng hates the idea that he might have known you in his past life.)

3k words of fluff, comedy, some nsft. features an established relationship and imbibitor lunae cuddles. past renfeng is mentioned (dh is not a fan of df's choice in spouses). cultural/TL/lore notes at the end. nsft tags: monsterfucking (mostly offscreen), afab reader, onscreen explicit foreplay. dividers by @/cafekitsune. thank you to yyj anon for the hilarious idea!

Dan Heng has, in his true form, a small beauty mark on his throat.

You can see it now, pressed up against him in bed—your head resting on his shoulder, your bare legs tangled up with his, your whole body wrapped up in the furnace-like heat of his form. Azure scales glide along your skin as his tail curls around your waist, settling lazily against your thigh. You can feel a strange vibration coming from his vocal chords, from his chest—quiet, rhythmic, a sign of his complete ease. Whenever you reach over and run your fingers through his hair, he closes his eyes and the thrum from his throat grows stronger.

(Yes—it turns out that the great Imbibitor Lunae can purr. Dan Heng was mortified when the two of you first discovered this fact, but you've since reassured him that it is objectively the best part of his transformation.)

Ordinarily, Dan Heng isn't so clingy. It's only when he decides to couple with you in this form—something he generally avoids, given the… complications relating to his anatomy and stamina—that he ends up entwining himself with you afterwards. His expression always remains as neutral and unbothered as ever, so you think it must not be a conscious behaviour. (In fact, Dan Heng's face is so thin that he'd probably disintegrate if he ever noticed himself doing this.) Possibly it's an instinct that comes with his draconic features, just like his habit of nipping at your throat during intimate moments, or flicking his tail when agitated.

Normally, you'd be happy to bask quietly in his affections, but you're too distracted today. You keep staring at that tiny mole on the smooth, white-jade slope of his neck. It's placed right on the spot where you most like to kiss him, impossible to miss.

It isn't there when he wears his human disguise. You're very sure of this fact, because you're an avid fan of leaving marks on his neck, no matter which form he's in. (This behaviour is much to his chagrin. It's not like anyone will notice, you always need to reassure him. You always wear turtlenecks or high collars. Be careful about that chest window, though…) It's only natural that you'd notice such a detail.

You reason to yourself that there's no significance to this beauty mark. Plenty of Dan Heng's features arbitrarily change between forms—including his height, and even his makeup—but it gets you thinking about what it could mean. Particularly, you keep thinking about that myth claiming that moles mark the spots where your lovers kissed you in your past life.

You wonder about who'd have been kissing him, in his past life as Dan Feng—or who'd have been kissing you, whoever you were in your past life.

Of course, you were probably a total random in your previous lives. You definitely weren't getting kissed up on by any High Elders of the Luofu, nor were you leaving any hickies on their necks—or at least, you weren't doing that to Dan Feng, given that the intergalactic criminal trying to kill your boyfriend is actually the ex-husband of the previous Yinyue Jun. (Ever since this revelation, you have promised Dan Heng that you will never attempt to murder him, no matter how badly your relationship might someday implode.) But you'll take any opportunity to tease Dan Heng, and the perfect opportunity is before you now.

"Gege," you say, trying and failing to hide the mischief in your voice. He opens his eyes. His expression is still calm, but the slight arch to his brow betrays his wariness.

"Hm?"

"I'm curious about something."

"I can tell," he says. "What are you thinking about?"

You hum in a pondering tone. "Well, I know you don't like to think about your past," you begin, and you can feel his tail curling, "but I wonder if we knew each other at all in your previous life?"

Dan Heng studies you carefully. "I don't know. I try not to remember too much of Dan Feng's life, and it's hard to understand what I do recall. But you already know that." He tilts his head. "You've never asked about him before. Why are you suddenly so curious?"

"Well… you know what they say about moles?"

He gives you a blank stare. "That you should monitor them carefully for changes, in case of skin cancer?"

You snort. "No, not that! Or, I mean, that's true, and I hope you're doing that—but it's not what I'm thinking of!"

The corner of his mouth lifts very, very subtly. "Then what are you thinking of?"

"How they say that moles exist wherever your lover kissed you most in your past life. You've heard that, right?"

"Yes—it's an old wives' tale," he dismisses. "My species would have noticed it if there were any truth to that myth."

You frown. "You sure? Because"—you pull back just so you can tap gently at the mark on his neck—"you've got a mole right here when you're in this form. And I love to kiss your neck, Heng'er."

"I've noticed," he says dryly, with a distinctly long-suffering tone, making you grin.

"Then don't you think I could have given this to you?" you try again, but he shakes his head.

"It's not uncommon for Vidyadharas to mate across lifetimes, and in those cases, it's not unusual to record details about their lovers' various incarnations," he explains evenly. "Someone would have noticed it if this saying about moles were true. So I can guarantee that this was not left by any of Dan Feng's lovers."

A sour expression flits across Dan Heng's face. You recognize it as the exact look he wore when he pelted his jade belt piece into the vacuum of space—something he'd done as soon as he realised its origins. (Would you keep a wedding band from a divorced spouse? he'd asked flatly, when you bemoaned its loss. No? Well, it's the same idea with the jade token. If you also happen to have an ex-husband trying to kill you, please be sure to get rid of your ring as well—you are not allowed to wear it.)

Trying not to laugh, you sit up and kiss his temple in an attempt to distract him.

"Okay," you concede. "So the beauty mark thing doesn't apply to Vidyadharas. But what about humans?"

Dan Heng falters. "...I don't know. There's no way for us to tell. Humans on the Luofu far outlive the length of the average Vidyadhara's rebirth cycle. And it is very difficult to identify a human's reincarnation, as your species will change faces and birthplaces between lifetimes." He gives you a long look, strangely unreadable. "...why do you ask?"

"Well," you say smartly, "if you wouldn't recognize me across lifetimes anyway—isn't it true that I could have been one of your past lovers?"

"...the chances are slim, but"—his tail flicks—"yes, I suppose you could have been one of Dan Feng's lovers. In theory."

You pull away from him, careful to let him get a good look at your body laid out on the bed. You catch Dan Heng's eyes wandering, his gaze all over your bare skin. Maybe studying the moles scattered across your body, or maybe he's focusing on the ones on your chest, or maybe he's thinking about the one on your inner thigh.

You point at the one that rests right above your heart.

"Then—if it's possible that I was one of Dan Feng's lovers, and if it's possible that the beauty mark thing is true for humans—isn't it also possible that Dan Feng gave some of these to me?"

"..."

Dan Heng studies you with a complicated expression. You can hear his jaw click before he points out, "That's a lot of ifs."

"I'd believe it," you say. "I mean—you've seen the one on my thigh, right? It makes sense that you'd have given that to me. I'm sure that Gege loved eating pussy in every single li—mmph!"

Dan Heng's thrown his hand over your mouth. 'Tired' doesn't even begin to describe his expression.

"I do not want to think about what Dan Feng's preferences were in bed."

You wrestle his hand away from your face for the express purpose of saying, "Why not? Aren't you curious? Like, do you think Yinyue Jun got as nasty as you do when you're in this form? What do you think he liked to do with his second—"

You lose your speaking privileges again.

Dan Heng ignores your muffled whining as he rolls his eyes. You don't even know why he's so bothered by this joke—he's the one who spent the entire day fucking you in ways you simply didn't even think were possible before you met him! (All thanks to the unique anatomy and stamina of his original form, for which you'll always be grateful to Aeon Long.) You try to convey all this through an indignant stare, but he doesn't relent. Eventually, you give up on struggling.

Curiously, Dan Heng takes this opportunity (i.e., a moment in which you are finally quiet) to study you. His hair curtains around your face as he leans over you, his gleaming eyes heavy with contemplation. Noticing the intensity of his gaze, you give him a questioning look.

When he finally pulls his hand away, you ask, "Is something wrong, Heng'er?"

"Not exactly." He's still watching you. "I only realised—I don't think we knew each other.

You stare blankly. "What?"

"I don't think we knew each other in our past lives."

You raise a brow, giving him a funny look.

"So unromantic," you complain. "What, Gege—you don't think our love is fated?"

Another eyeroll. But this time, rather than putting a palm over your mouth, Dan Heng rests his hand against your cheek instead. You blink at the feeling of his thumb running over your cheekbone.

"It's not that," he says. His voice is gentler now. "I just don't think Dan Feng would have had such a sad ending to his life, had you been in it."

"...oh." You open your mouth, but for once, you have no witty remark. Your face feels a little warm when you ask, "Really?"

"Yes, really." You think you catch a hint of fondness in his otherwise plain, unaffected voice. "And anyway—fate has nothing to do with my feelings for you. I chose you in this lifetime of my own accord, and I will spend this lifetime with you of my own accord. Destiny will never have any bearing on the path I wish to walk with you."

You swallow, staring at his eyes. They're painfully earnest. It's making it hard for you to think, though you can't bring yourself to look away.

"...how can you be so sure?" is all you can ask.

"Because my life until now has been controlled by Dan Feng's sins," he says simply, "but I refuse to let the stain of his karma touch my future with you."

You go quiet at that.

Dan Heng is never one to talk about his own suffering. Even when describing the cruelest of punishments he'd inherited from the former Yinyue Jun, he uses unfeeling terms, not ones of complaint. Control, stain, touch—you've never heard such painful language before.

You wonder, for a second, if you went a little too far with your teasing about his past incarnation, for him to speak in such a way. But by the time you've found the words to apologise, Dan Heng's expression has become wry.

"So please," he adds dryly, "don't make me think of what Dan Feng could or couldn't have been doing in bed with you. I already resent him enough."

"...wait," you realise, "are you jealous when you think about me having sex with Dan Feng?"

He clears his throat, looking away. "Not exactly jealous"—he's definitely jealous—"but I personally feel that he would not have deserved to kiss any part of your body, let alone leave his mark on it." He frowns. "And in any case, I just don't like the idea that he has anything to do with our relationship."

"But…" Your mouth opens and closes. "But why? He was technically just you."

"In theory, perhaps. But in practice, we are still different people." His tail settles down again, wrapping around your thigh. "I intend to be born into my next life holding a jade token I chose with you. Not one chosen by Dan Feng."

You are rendered speechless.

Your reserved boyfriend, who can't even hold your hand in public without feeling embarrassed, is casually professing his intent to love you across lifetimes with lines that sound plagiarized from a Xianzhou period drama. You don't know what to say, and you don't know what to do. Maybe you want to scream. Maybe you want to kiss him. Definitely you want to blow all your credits on a pair of luxury jade tokens tomorrow morning, one for each of you. You'll vow to never throw yours out, even if for some reason his next incarnation should try to murder you. You'll make it work somehow.

But—you also find it insanely funny that he can't stand the idea of Dan Feng fucking you. You definitely want to tease him a little more before running out to get any jewellery for him.

"That's very sweet, Heng'er," you start, "but has it occurred to you that if Dan Feng didn't kiss me in these places, then someone else did?"

Dan Heng freezes.

"Someone else would have kissed me here"—you tap the mole over your heart again—"and also here"—closer to the peak of your breast, now—"and here"—further down, on your waist—"and also…"

Before you can spread your thighs and brush your fingers against the mark there, Dan Heng grabs your wrist. His slit pupils are dilated, his tail is flicking, and his purrs have turned into a sharp huff—one accompanied by an expression of deep annoyance.

"I guess you don't like thinking about that either?" you ask, smiling, and Dan Heng chooses not to respond. He simply narrows his eyes—and lowers his head.

You smile when you feel his fangs on your neck. Too easy, you think. He lingers on your pulse, lips brushing it as much as his teeth are, before moving further down.

He places a kiss over your heart, first. Then a trail of them, his breath tickling the skin of your chest. You blink when you feel his hands running along your sides and lingering on your curves, making you acutely aware of his intentions.

"Wait—are we starting another round because of what I said?" you ask, trying not to laugh. "I had no idea you had such a jealous streak in you, Heng'er."

Dan Heng still doesn't reply. He merely replaces his lips with his tongue—and then your smile fades.

The heat of his mouth on you is distracting. Makes your brows knot as his tongue swirls around a nipple, as his breath fans across it. His teeth graze it, too—teasing and a little mean, with how he doesn't give you a break. You're squirming beneath him soon, tugging at his hair, grasping his horns—Wait, wait, I'm too sensitive—but from the way he inhales sharply at your touch, you know you're only encouraging him.

He moves down to your navel. Presses his lips to your skin—peppers your waist with butterfly kisses. His hands slip to your thighs as his mouth trails its way down, parting your legs as he settles between them. Your breath hitches as his fingers touch your entrance, spreading you open. You're still sensitive from all the things he did to you earlier—from how he had you stretched out and panting underneath him, stuffed so full that you could hardly think as you came. From how he fucked you like that again, and again, and again, until you were on the verge of tears from how many times you'd cum—because Dan Heng finds it impossible to stop whenever he's in this form.

But even as sore as you are, you can feel yourself clenching around nothing right now, eager to have him inside you again. You shiver as his breath blows over your aching clit.

"Don't tease me," you whine.

"After all the teasing you put me through?" He sounds unimpressed. "No, I think I'll take my time. It's only fair."

"Gege, I was only joking. You said it yourself: it's only an old wives' tale! I'm sure no one was kissing me on the—ah…"

Your voice clips off into a whimper. Dan Heng is running a finger along your slit, and you feel yourself his spend from earlier leaking out from you. It's hot and it's thick, a mess running all the way down to the sheets beneath you, and there's so much of it. He just spent the whole day filling you up, after all—and you have no doubt that he wants to spend his night the same way.

(Really, you owe so much to the Aeon of Permanence. You'd worship Long if he were still around—may he rest in peace.)

You watch as he studies you, his eyes keen and pupils blown. His gaze lingers on a particular spot on your thigh—and it suddenly occurs to you that he's been kissing all your moles.

"Dan Heng," you breathe, halfway to a laugh, "what exactly are you trying to do?"

He glances up at you, arching a brow.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm making sure that any marks you have in the future will be from no one but me."

Dan Heng's gleaming eyes are set on your beauty mark. He places a soft kiss on it, and he almost sounds amused when he speaks again:

"I'll especially like looking at this one again in your next life."

END

lost my mind from stress this week so I cranked this out rip I hope you all enjoyed!! please leave a note if you did!!

some notes about lore details:

not sure if everyone is caught up to 1.2 content (I'm not lol), so I'll note here that the "jade tokens" being mentioned = Vidyadhara practice of taking matching jade tokens into their hatching rebirth, so they can find each other in their next lives

the relic lore for the passerby of wandering cloud bracer in chinese heavily implies that yingxing and dan feng were either engaged or married. it makes sense when you consider that dan heng and blade wear matching jade buckles. people theorize that these are jade tokens from their lifetime as lovers – hence that whole bit in this fic about dan heng throwing out his jade token 😭

cultural/TL notes:

gege is a term meaning "older brother", though it is often used for non-familial relationships that are very close; it can come off as either flirty or childish. heng'er is a diminutive of dan heng's name.

chinese language has a few different concepts/words for the idea of fate/destiny. the one that dh and mc discuss in this fic is the notion that your relationship with someone in this lifetime will go on to determine the nature of your relationship with them in the next one (缘分, this idea applies to all relationships but includes romantic ones). I tried my best to convey this idea in the dialogue for those reading without that cultural context, but quite honestly I feel like I failed LMAO and thus... you are getting this note.

I also want to clarify that 缘分 is not affected by karma in the Buddhist sense, even though I used the term "karma" within the discussion about fate/destiny; 缘分 is not a Buddhist concept. (the reason that I had dan heng refer to dan feng's "karma" is simply a play on the chinese term for "sins" used to describe dan feng's crimes, 罪业，which can have Buddhist connotations.)

other notes:

while I left the reader's backstory vague (so that you may interpret them however you want), I wrote this with tanghulu mc in mind, because that's who the original anon ask discussed!

yyj peg anon if you are reading this: I apologize for how deeply I botched your idea LMAOAOA this got heavily derailed from the basic prompt of teasing dan heng 😭 what 1.2 will do to a mf…

thank you to the 80% of people who agreed that danheng IL should purr in this fic. i truly do not think that he would exhibit particularly animalistic behaviours in his original form, but, listen........ I wasn't writing this with my brain.

I'm sorry that there was no tonal cohesion in this fic. we really went from dragon cuddles to bullying danheng to existential discussions of fate to monsterfucking foreplay. as I said above........ I wasn't writing this with my brain

He Who Hides Behind a Mask.

Scaramouche x F!Reader.

Warnings: Scaramouche is a mess, Reader is honestly a mess too, implied not SFW.  Word count: 6k. 

Note: originally, this story was going to be lot darker (haha), but after the 3.1 cutscene… i decided mr. mouche can have a break just this once. as a treat. please handle him with care. he really needs all of it he can get. anyway here’s my love letter to my fav genshin character. 

i.

You are, without a doubt, the worst human in the world.

If Scaramouche was labeled an eccentric by his peers throughout the centuries, he wonders what that would make you. Whatever conventions you abide by are a complete mystery to him. Perhaps you damaged your head at some point in your life and are now living with the consequences. Or, your head has made it out mostly unscathed, and you really are just this foolish for no good reason. That miserable doctor might say there’s an explanation behind every phenomenon, but the charlatan surely would change his tune if he met you.  

What else could possibly explain why you have the audacity to waltz into his office, entirely unannounced, scuttling about like you owned the place?

… And if that isn’t worse enough, why does he let you?

Keep reading

---

++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

[summary] wrio missed his wife, and she missed him just as much. two simps in love.

[cws] fluff. fem reader -> wriothesley’s wife. reader is a mondstadt native. kissing.

Wriothesley’s cup of tea pauses halfway to his mouth as there’s a knock at his office door. His fingers tighten unconsciously around the handle, that incessant throbbing at his temples that had been dying out suddenly tapping into its nth life.

He contemplates ignoring it; pretending he didn’t hear it and indulging in his fresh brew, but he’s never been one to shirk off his work, no matter how inconsequential the task.

He sets the cup down rougher than necessary, and the legs of his chair scrape loudly against the floor as he pushes it back from his desk and stands to his feet. Someone better be dead or on the verge.

It was an unspoken rule that Wriothesley wasn’t to be bothered at this time -a quarter after five until six- because it was official tea time, a very, very important time in his day that let the inhabitants in Meropide see his most agreeable side… although he had heard talk from a few gossipy guards and prisoners that his ‘pissy attitude’ this past month had nothing to do with his interrupted tea times, but rather that his wife had gone back to Mondstadt to visit family.

“You know how he gets when he doesn’t see her after a while—downright scary. I’ve never seen a man look so enraged and distraught at the same time.”

“He put me on pipe restoration duty —don’t laugh, it isn’t funny! Worst job in the whole place, I swear— for the next six months all because my wife dropped by with a bento on my break. Apparently no one can be happy when his missus is away.”

“I caught him staring at her picture the other day, y’know the one he keeps in that chain around his neck, and sighing like some schoolgirl. I nearly thought my daughter had somehow gotten herself arrested and thrown down here when I heard all those lovesick sighs.”

It was all hearsay and speculation, of course. Wriothesley could manage just fine with you away - he was a grown man, a weathered man, a man who could function fully without the company of his wife.

That’s right, he thinks to himself. He’s been doing just fine in your absence, a bit quicker to anger than usual, but with the looming threat of being turned into a big, sopping puddle right below his feet, could you really blame him?

The door is wrenched open, strands of black and gray flying back from where they rested against his forehead due to the strong gust of wind he created.

“What is it now?” He nearly hisses out, but he manages to get a reign on it last minute, the words coming out a bit strained instead. He eyes the guard standing in front of him, their eyes flitting between the crease between his brows and the floor. “Spit it out before I—”

He stops abruptly when he hears a voice that he knows intimately well, and had he possessed any shame when it came publicly displaying the love he harbored for you, he would have been a touch embarrassed at the speed of which his frown smoothed out and the throbbing in his head disappeared, a sparkle in his eyes as his shoulders lose a bit of their tension.

“Oh? He has? Thank you for telling me, Sigewinne. I’ll get right on that.” You come rounding the corner with the small doctor at your side, a knapsack in your hands, and had Wriothesley been any less sane, he would have swore that he could feel the rays of the sunshine beaming down on his skin and fresh air filtering into his lungs when you turned your gaze to him, scornful as it was.

You’re fitted in a dress that’s customary for the women in your homeland to wear, and flowers are weaved into your hair, and the ring on your finger seems to shine a bit brighter.

“Wriothesley.” You march up to him, eyebrows knitted together, and push your finger against his chest. “What is this I hear about you acting like a tyrant?”

“You look beautiful.” He breathes out.

“And going to the Pankration ring? You know those poor people don’t stand a chance against you. That’s just bullying.”

“Let me take your bag, it looks heavy.”

“And you haven’t been eating right, either! Look at your face — you’ve lost weight!” He transfers the bag from your hands to his, and when his fingers brush against yours, he finally lets a smile bloom on his face, being met with a huff. “Don’t smile at me. I’m mad at you.”

“Can’t help it, happy to see you.” You falter a bit, corners of your lips twitching, but you hold strong, choosing to save face in front of the onlookers—always put up a good fight, especially when others are looking, is what he had told you once upon a time. “I’ve missed you so much.” It comes out in a low murmur, eyes locked onto yours and refusing to stray, even when you decide that his gaze is a bit too heavy for the setting and avert your own.

“I-well-you…just get inside your office.”

He’s nice enough to hold back a chuckle, instead stepping to the side so that you can shuffle past him and inside. Before he shuts the door, his gaze turns icy and his smile thins out as he lets his eyes sweep over everyone present. A resounding groan is heard, the unspoken promise loud and clear, and then he’s pushing the door shut and turning on his heel.

You’re on him in a second, arms wrapped around his waist as you bury your face into his chest. He returns the hug just as quick, thick, burly arms circling around your shoulders as his head dips down so he can stuff his nose into your hair and breathe your scent in.

Your voice comes out muffled as you try to speak, and he loosens his hold on you a bit, allowing you to pop your head up so you can look up at him. There’s a halfhearted pout on your lips, and his response is a reflex as he leans down to give you a peck once, twice, three times before moving on to place one on the tip of your nose.

“You were supposed to let me scold you out there, birdie. Now everyone’s gonna know that I let you off easy.”

“Let me off easy? I’d say this is the meanest you’ve ever been to me,” he gives an exaggerated expression of hurt. “You haven’t even told me you missed me, or that you’re happy to see me, or that you’ll never leave again because you couldn’t stand being away from me.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You smile despite yourself, and he kisses you again, scarred hands moving to cradle your cheeks. You part with a gasp for air, and its his turn to smile when you stretch up to reconnect your lips, the lack of air not deterring you in the slightest.

“Breathe, sweetheart…” He rasps against your lips, and you suck in a breath, eyes slowly blinking as you tug at the material of his shirt. There’s a rush of emotions that washes over him at the unspoken confirmation that you missed him just as much as he had missed you, and he lets his hands wander down to settle on your waist, fingers flexing as they squeeze at the flesh there through the material of your dress.

“Well, well, well,” he starts, and you blink out of your stupor to don a guilty expression. “Looks like you haven’t been eating right, either, hypocrite.” He lightly pinches at your side, and you squeal out a laugh as you lightly bat at his hand.

“Have I told you that I missed you, and that I’m sooo happy to see you, and that I’ll never, ever leave again because I can’t stand being away from you?” You flutter your lashes up at him, direct that heart-stopping smile up at him, and for a split second he thinks that the primordial sea has broken the seal and reduced him to nothing but a puddle at your feet.

“Careful now, words like that are liable to kill a man, and this place isn’t fitting for a sweet girl like you.”

“Oh? Then maybe I should leave earlier than I intended t—” He quiets you with a kiss, and you laugh into it, earning a gentle nip on your bottom lip. Your teasing smile settles into something sweeter, tender, vulnerable, and it mirrors him perfectly.

You both speak your next words in unison.

“I missed you.”

another one because he's all i can ever think about at this point. akademiya zandik is just such a cutie

dottore drabble x2 - "habits"

zandik has a few noticeable traits that have slowly begun to appear more and more the longer your relationship progresses. and they surprise you every single time.

there's one where he'd break his pens and pencils whenever he's too caught up in his thoughts. the ink would splash all over his desk and his files, and he'd be cursing under his breath at the ink splatter on his clothes and all over his face.

the first time you found him walking out of his room with a hand that was completely black and dripping with ink, throwing away a handful of wasted papers and files in the garbage bin, you had made a mental note to watch over him whenever he wrote. to buy him multiple pens and pencils whenever you were out. and distract him, ease him, whenever he's about to break another one, just to spare him from the annoyance it brings.

today, you discovered a new habit you never knew he had.

it was one of those rare days when zandik allows himself to take a break.. to close his eyes and sleep in one of the most comfortable places known to man; your loving arms.

and he sleeps. when he does, he sleeps like a dead man. he's sprawled all over on top of you and his face is completely buried onto your neck. you worry if he could breathe, but you could feel his hot breath against your skin. you can't help but giggle.

it's been a while since zandik has slept, so you let him, protecting him from anything that may wake him up and humming soft lullabies whenever he starts shifting awake.

you adored him so much whenever he slept. he'd snore so softly that you could barely hear it, and sometimes, he'd even drool. sometimes he'd soak your shirt when he sleeps atop of you, but it was a small price to pay for a decent night of sleep for zandik.

while you were playing with his hair, out of nowhere, you felt a small jab of pain onto the skin of your neck. you held back a yelp, not wanting to wake zandik, but you pulled yourself back from him. only for his arms to tighten around you, pulling himself closer to your body and nipping at your skin, sharp teeth digging into your neck.

thankfully, he never tried to bite you too hard. only soft, playful nibbles while he slept. you were torn between thinking it was absolutely adorable or hilarious.

grinning ear to ear, you let him nip and practically drool on your neck, slowly being pulled into a deep slumber that the weight of his chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours.

you knew if you told him about it, he would deny it, accusing you of making stuff up while his face reddens. but you'd see zandik's satisfied look on his face whenever he saw the slightly purple marks on your neck. you didn't bother covering them up, and he seems delighted.

zandik totally stopped biting you from that day onwards. from your shoulders, collarbones, and fingers, he'd even bite your cheeks if he was feeling playful enough.

now, he can't seem to go on a whole day without seeing a visible bite mark on your skin.

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

all stars must die one day

SYNOPSIS: it’s always been him- stupidly perfect and handsome Alhaitham who you saw as the bane of your academic achievements. Three years later and now so much has changed. He misses you. He misses your endless bickering and meaningless fights. Why did you change so much? It’s a mystery he makes up his mind to resolve.

CHARACTERS: Alhaitham, gossip circle consisting of Kaveh, Tighnari, and Lisa + the rest of the Sumeru cast

TAGS: heavy angst w/fluff, academic burnout, burnt-out gifted kid, mild profanity, gn reader, reader is briefly mentioned to be shorter than Alhaitham, toxic family dynamics, 15.7k+ word count

NOTES: college decisions and my experiences from the past two years really compelled me to write this. If you’re going through burnout, know that you’re not alone and that you can do this.

this took me almost half a year to finish wtf

There’s a comet that crosses Sumeru’s skies only once in a lifetime. 

Alhaitham had heard some Rtawahsit students discussing it the other day. They were practically buzzing with excitement over the news of its reappearance.

“Isn’t this the perfect opportunity?”

“How lucky are we to be able to witness it?”

“Even our professors are excited about it!”

Alhaitham couldn’t care less. The phenomena of celestial events, while dazzling, are easily explained by science. It’s not like they were anything special either. At their heart, they’re composed of ordinary materials- rock, dust, water, and ice, plus other chemicals. 

He puts it out of his mind until he’s rudely awoken one night by loud noises outside the window. A flash of annoyance runs through him as he gets up and looks out to glare at the crowd of students passing through. A glance at their berets tells him they’re Rtawahsit students. They’re trying their best to be quiet, but when it’s practically an entire Darshan on the move, that becomes a difficult task. 

It seems as if he’s not the only one that was woken up. Other familiar faces are peeking through cracked-open windows. Lisa, Cyno, and Tighnari all yawn while watching the crowd of students pass by before looking at each other and following them. Kaveh, who has just woken up from his spot across the room, gives Alhaitham one last look before leaving.

Alhaitham closes the window and flops back onto his bed. He covers his ears with his pillow and closes his eyes, attempting to fall back asleep. He never cared for what other people thought or did, so why should he blindly follow the crowd? He wasn’t even curious anyway.

But for some strange reason, he can’t seem to fall asleep. He tosses and turns, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, before finally getting up to put his restless mind at ease. 

It’s easy to figure out where everyone has gone. All he has to do is follow the sounds of chatter. It leads him to the top of the Divine Tree the city is built upon. There, Rtawahsit students are busy setting up their telescopes while others have pen and paper at their disposal for note-taking. Professors guide said students while those from other Darshans watch on in curiosity and gaze at the sky in anticipation. 

Tighnari and the others beckon him over. He squeezes himself into the secluded corner they claimed for themselves, poking Kaveh with his limbs intentionally in the process. To his surprise, you’re there too. You lean against Lisa’s arm and shoot him a little glare that lacks any real hate before turning back to the sky, glaring at him when he decides to sit in front of you and block your view. 

“Look!” shouts a student. “It’s started!”

Almost immediately, everybody goes silent. Only the sounds of birds and wildlife can be heard, along with the quiet breathing of everyone searching wildly for it.

(He’s acutely aware of the warm puffs of air that tickle the back of his neck when you exhale. It shouldn’t be this distracting, but it is. Is this your way of getting back at him?)

There’s an excited gasp from a girl with her telescope. She wildly gestures toward the sky and Alhaitham sees a bright speck of light out of the corner of his eye. Several smaller meteors zip through the sky, but everybody’s attention is on the largest one. It outshines all the other stars in the sky as it speeds by, heating up into a white-hot glow and leaving a glittering trail of blue stardust behind. It is a star not of this world, speeding onward toward its destination- toward something greater. 

“Look,” he hears Lisa whisper. He briefly tears his attention from the sky to see her lean toward you. “Make a wish.”

Alhaitham sees you close your eyes for a moment before opening them again. What did you just wish for?

It’s gone in just a few minutes, heading toward the horizon until not even a pinprick of its light can be seen anymore. The sky is now dark again. With the main event over, most people begin getting up to return to their rooms. His eyes linger on your form, now walking away. Lisa’s voice from earlier repeats in his head.

“Make a wish.”

It’s a childish belief not rooted in reason- he knows that. But for just a second, he closes his eyes and makes a wish. 

He met you at the start of his first year. 

It’s too loud here. I want to go home already.

From his seat in the back of the room, he watches as spots gradually fill up as the start time draws nearer. Much to his delight, everybody leaves his spot in the back of the classroom alone, instead opting to sit toward the front. 

That is until someone sits down in the row in front of him. He looks up from the pages of his book, slightly annoyed. Curses, now he couldn’t be by himself anymore. But they leave him alone and keep to themselves as the professor walks in and introduces himself and the class, so he tolerates it. 

There’s a light tap on his desk. He looks up to see you watching him expectantly. He’s able to get his first good look at you now. Your Akademiya uniform is a little too big on you and the sleeves drape over your hands. Your green hat sits lopsidedly on your head and you have the air of a starry-eyed and enthusiastic first-year student. 

“Yes?” 

“The professor told us to introduce ourselves to those around us,” you explain. “I’m (Name).”

“Alhaitham. Pleased to meet you.”

You nod in response and turn back around. Your professor is explaining the course and handing the syllabus out, but your mind wanders toward the guy sitting behind you whom you’ve just met. 

He’s cute, you think to yourself. In like, a little kid or puppy kind of way. He’s still a little short and scrawny- wait, how old is he anyway? Don’t tell me he’s one of those child prodigies that got in at a super young age… Or maybe he’s just a late bloomer, who knows? 

A few weeks later, the results of your first test roll around. The 98 scribbled and circled in red ink at the top of the paper makes you nod in satisfaction. It’s indicative of a good start, but when you take a look at the board in front of the class, you see someone has gotten a perfect score. 

And it turns out the culprit himself sits right behind you. 

You glare at the 100% in red ink at the top of his page as if it has personally offended you. As if to further insult you, there was a small “good job!” written in the margins by the professor that you didn’t have on your paper. 

“A 98? Good, but not perfect. Perhaps you should have studied more,” he nonchalantly remarks after seeing yours. Your eye twitches in irritation.

Oh, it is so on. 

From that day onward, you swore to yourself that you would beat Alhaitham, no matter what it took. Even if it meant sleepless nights spent hunched over your notes and textbooks, they were all a price you were willing to pay to prove that you were the undisputed best. 

Soon after, you don’t see Alhaitham in class anymore. His seat behind you is left unoccupied and you hear rumors that he opted for self-study instead- whatever that was. Despite that, he still gets top marks in everything, only serving to annoy you and spur you onward. 

However, you still see him at the library, and frequently at that. It’s somewhat surprising, considering that the Akasha Terminal has the same function and is more convenient. As a result, the library is mostly empty save for the few students that are there to study materials that aren’t entered into the Akasha’s database. You’re there because you prefer the quiet, focused environment of the library to your dorm, which despite the Akademiya and its students' almost religious devotion to academics, can get a little too rowdy for your liking at times. Plus, you prefer the feeling of a physical book in your hands over its digitized counterpart in the Akasha. It makes it easier to take notes and learn that way. 

Recently, you’ve found a spot in the library that you’ve taken a liking to. It’s located in the back and obscured by bookshelves, giving you some much-needed privacy while you study and it’s located by a window, allowing for ample natural light.

But apparently, someone else has already claimed it, unbeknownst to you. 

“This is my spot.”

You don’t even look up from your book. The voice alone was a dead giveaway as to who was speaking. 

“And? I didn’t see your name on it.”

Alhaitham sits at the seat across from you, purposefully spreading his books and other materials across the desk to push yours off to the side. A satisfied smirk twitches at the corners of his lips when he sees your eyes narrow in irritation. 

“Are you here just to bother me?”

“If I wanted to bother you, I’d find other ways to do it.” 

You huff in annoyance and turn the page. He watches you over the top of his book with intrigue as you alternate between reading and taking notes. 

“... Will you quit staring at me like that? It’s distracting.”

“Oh? So you’re admitting that I’m a distraction?”

“You-!”

A sharp hiss to be quiet from a librarian passing by silences you both temporarily. You glare at him accusingly, which he merely brushes off.

There’s a reluctant compromise that arises between you after that. Every day after class, you would meet at the same spot in the library to study. You would sit across from each other and work independently from each other until it was time to go, where you’d then say your goodbyes before heading your separate ways. Rinse and repeat and that was what your average day looked like. 

“So, what’s up with that thing between you and (Name)?”

You pause from your studying after overhearing that line and look up. Across the clearing are Alhaitham and a blond-haired man. Kaveh, if you recall his name correctly. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply,” replies Alhaitham. 

“Is there some sort of competition between you two? Whenever I see you guys, you’re basically at each other’s throats over test scores and stuff.”

“There is no such competition. That would be a pointless waste of my time and energy.” 

The urge to throw your book at his head across the clearing is strong, but you’ll settle for Kaveh giving him a doubtful expression.

“You say that and yet you’ve been putting more work into your studies than ever.” 

“That’s none of your business.” 

But for all your efforts, you can’t seem to catch up to him. He was always one step- or rather, one point- ahead of you. He’d always be there, subtly rubbing his achievements right in your face even though the difference is practically negligible at least half of the time. 

It gets to the point where you begin to rant about your troubles to Lisa. 

“Can you believe this guy? It makes me wonder if he’s a sadist of some sort that gets a kick out of annoying me.” 

You’re sitting outside in one of the many gazebos around the Akademiya. Despite studying under a different Darshan, you quickly became friends with her.

She laughs lightly at your words.

“To me, it sounds like your poor heart is troubled! Shall doctor Lisa perform a checkup on you?”

You swat her hand away.

“Don’t play with me like that. And you’re not even an Amurta student!”

You hear footsteps coming down the pathway and speak of the devil, the topic of your conversation is walking toward you, his book in hand as always. You watch him out of the corner of your eye. He meets your gaze and holds it for several long, agonizing seconds before looking forward again and disappearing out of sight. You shudder and look away, Lisa chuckling lightly at your actions.

“Asshole,” you grumble. “What’s his problem? And did you see how cold his eyes were? Makes me wonder if the rumors of him having a heart of ice are true…” 

Lisa hesitates at that. 

“I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, (Name).”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

She purses her lips and looks off to the side. 

“It’s hard to explain, even for me. But you’ll see and come to understand in due time how acutely aware he is of the emotions of those around him, especially those he is close to.”

You think you understand the meaning of her words a few weeks later when the results of a particularly rough test greet you.

75%

Damn it, you think before roughly shoving the papers into your bag, away from the prying eyes of your classmates. I can’t falter here now. I still have so much more to do.

“I can tutor you if you’d like. I don’t offer this to just anyone, so I’d advise you to consider it,” Alhaitham says in the library later that day. You know that most people would kill for this opportunity and you weren’t blinded by jealousy to the point where you couldn’t see the benefit of his offer. 

But your pride prevents you from accepting it.

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’d rather do this myself.” 

Another time, Alhaitham has to get up at a time when he should be asleep. Earlier that day, he had left a book of his behind and forgotten about it until now, leaving him to search the now-dark and empty halls of the Akademiya for where it might be. 

He happens to pass by the House of Daena on the way and sees a solitary lamp lit in the back corner where he usually frequents. Out of sheer curiosity, he steps inside to see there’s a familiar figure hunched over the desk, clearly fast asleep with piles upon piles of books and notes stacked around them. 

Alhaitham gazes down at you with his ever-impassive eyes, silently wondering what to do next. A cold gust of air blows through the library and he shivers slightly. He looks down at your exposed arms, then at his jacket, before taking it off and draping it over your form. Catching a cold would serve you no good and you’d most likely return it to him later tomorrow. 

Before he leaves, his curiosity gets the better of him and he takes a quick peek at your notes. 

His eyes widen ever so slightly. Much of the material scattered around your desk was far ahead of what you were and needed to be learning. Did you borrow these books and notes from upperclassmen? The handwriting is a mix of yours and someone else’s… He doesn’t see the point in you doing so- it’s all just unnecessary work, in his opinion. Either way, it’s none of his business and you can do as you please, but Alhaitham can’t help but wonder if you were doing all of this just to stay ahead- to keep up or even surpass him.

He leaves and you wake up soon after to something warm and soft covering your shoulders. It’s a standard Akademiya-issued jacket for the fall and winter terms. It’s way too big on you and the sleeves completely cover your hands. Curiously, you pull it tighter around your form. It smells nice- like old books and coffee- and you suddenly realize who it belongs to. Your face suddenly flushes and it’s not from the warmth of the jacket.

Alhaitham-!

The next day, Alhaitham arrives at his usual spot in the library. You’re sitting across from him as usual and interestingly refuse to make eye contact with him.

Sumeru’s climate has always been temperate, but the days are getting longer and warmer now. You’ve finally shed your winter uniform for your spring one and with the end of the year rapidly approaching comes major tests. The library is the most packed it's ever been with students everywhere cramming last-minute. It’s rare to find an empty table now, but thankfully your spot in the back with Alhaitham is still left unoccupied. If not, Alhaitham’s cold glare is more than enough to scare them away. 

For one of your classes, it’s a project instead of a test. You have the option to choose the type of project, but for some stupid reason, your professor was still assigning partners instead of being able to choose.

“And (Name), let’s see… hmm, I’ll pair you up with Alhaitham. How does that sound?”

Your blood runs cold and you hear your classmates snicker around you. You want to scream at the prospect of it. Sumeru would sooner freeze over before the two of you cooperate and he knows it. You catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye, daring you to say no. 

You swallow your pride and nod. The tips of your ears burn and at that moment, you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. 

“... That sounds fine.”

How humiliating.

Later that day in the library, he’s even more infuriating than normal, if that’s even possible. His face betrays nothing but you can hear the smugness dripping from his voice and mannerisms. His arms crossed in front of his chest, the way he would subtly look down on you with that know-it-all gaze… it all made you want to punch his (handsome) face. 

“Don’t fall behind now,” he says once you’ve finally settled on a project.

“Let’s see if you can even keep up with me.” 

Your project is relatively straightforward but involves a lot of cooperation between you two. As you work, it becomes an all-too-common sight to see you arguing everywhere you go, much to the irritation of others.

“I’m telling you, this character has to be symbolic of rebirth! Why else would we see it so concentrated in scripts that were dated toward the end of that civilization?”

“You seem to be forgetting that this has also been seen elsewhere. Besides, there are reasons to believe that it means something else.”

“What, did it get lost in translation? If you think you’re so smart, then go ahead and enlighten me.” 

You glare at him as he sips his coffee (with milk and two sugars, you note. Just the way he likes it). 

“God, can they just kiss already?” grumbles Kaveh from where he sits across the room. Lisa and Tighnari sitting at the same table nodded in agreement.

“Meeting up to work outside of class is normal, but over lunch? Sounds like a date to me,” complains Tighnari while not-so-subtly eyeing the way you animatedly bicker with him. 

“Hey, isn’t this Alhaitham’s treat as well?” asks Kaveh. Tighnari’s ears twitch and perk up at his question. He glances at the both of you- Alhaitham just paused to ask if you’d like a refill of your tea, and you said yes- before groaning.

“It sure looks like it…”

Lisa decides to take matters into her own hands.

“Are you two arguing or flirting?” she asks in a loud voice.

“Arguing!” you retort. Alhaitham merely rolls his eyes and steals one of your samosas while you aren’t looking. 

“I saw that! Give it back!”

“Too late.” 

Two months, lots of bickering, and lots of coffee later, you present the culmination of your work to the class. For all the headaches and lost sleep you had to endure, your efforts are handsomely rewarded with a perfect score and rare compliments from your professor. And for that alone, it was well worth everything you went through. 

“Good job. It was a rewarding experience working with you. I daresay that our arguments aside, we make for a decent team.” 

You look up to see Alhaitham.

“Oh? A rare compliment from the stoic and sharp-tongued man himself?”

“Don’t make me retract my words.”

“Ouch, how cold of you.” 

When you return to your dorm later that night, there’s a note addressed to you from Lisa.

I overheard one of your professors talking about you and Alhaitham with someone else today- Professor Behnam, I think that was his name? I’m fairly sure this was after you guys presented because they mentioned that briefly. I wrote this down in a hurry as they were speaking, but here’s what he said:

They complement each other perfectly. While they both have unmatched erudition and wit, one has the creativity and uninhibited ambition the other tends to lack. However, he is more pragmatic and logical. Despite their differences, they make for a perfect team.

They will surely be among some of the best scholars the Akademiya has seen in a long time.

You end your first year tied for the top of the class with him.

“I’m home!”

“Welcome home, (Name)! How were your last few weeks at the Akademiya?”

Your parents’ home is as warm and welcoming as always. The house has been freshly cleaned and is practically shining. They take your bags and usher you into the kitchen, where your favorite dishes are sitting on the kitchen table, freshly cooked for dinner with steam still rising from them.

“It’s been fine,” you say. “Stressful, but also enjoyable. I like my classes and I get along with my classmates and professors.” 

“How are your grades? Have they been finalized yet?”

You nod and beam them with pride.

“Ended the year at the top of the class.”

Your parents’ eyes widen and they clap excitedly.

“That’s our child!”

“As brilliant and talented as always!”

“Good, keep going! Remember to study for money!”

“I will!”

Your mother leans in close and clasps your hand in hers. “After these four years, you should continue your education and become a sage! Maybe even work your way up and become the next Grand Sage!”

You balk at the prospect of it.

“A-A sage? Mom, there are tons of talented people in the Akademiya- that’s where the best of the best go to study! The chances that I’ll make it to that point are slim!”

Your father clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 

“Nonsense!” he exclaims. “You ended this year at the top of your class, you know. Besides, you inherited the intelligence of both your parents- I’d imagine that this would be a doable task for you. Also, imagine how amazing it would be if you were to become a sage! You’d be the first one in the family! Wouldn’t that be such an achievement for us?”

“That’s not even true! There was someone else who tied with me for the top of the class as well and if I’m being honest, he has a better shot at it than me!”

Your mom’s eyes sharpen and you instantly regret saying that. 

“He? So… a guy, huh?”

You mentally brace yourself for a barrage of questions.

“What’s his name? What’s he like? How smart is he? Is he good enough for you? Does he have-”

“Dear, stop it,” your father says. “Look, you’re overwhelming them.”

You sigh and shake your head. “For starters, his name is Alhaitham-”

“Alhaitham? I’ve heard that name somewhere before… wait, I remember now!” exclaims your father. “His grandmother was a Ksharewar scholar. His mother was a renowned Vahumana scholar and his father was a mentor in Haravatat.”

“Was?” you ask. Your father bites his lip and looks away.

“... His grandmother passed away a few years ago and from what I heard, so did his parents when he was young.” 

“Oh.” 

The kitchen is silent for a few moments before your father breaks it.

“Wait, (Name), why do you look so surprised? I thought you knew this already, considering he’s your rival and everything! I thought you would at least know something about him.”

“Dad, that’s exactly the point- we’re rivals and I don’t want to know anything about him! All that matters is beating him at his own game and that’s that. Besides, he never tells me anything about his personal life, so why should I do the same?”

“They’re right, you know.”

Your father merely rolls his eyes at your mother’s remark. 

“You know the rules, don’t get too close to him now,” your mother warns. “You have to do whatever it takes to be the best, whatever? That’s what you promised us.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, mom, I know. I’ll do my best to become a sage.”

Your parents lean in to hold you close, your mother giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.

“That’s our child. Make us proud, ok?”

“I will!”

After a lovely three months of summer vacation (and not being forced to see Alhaitham every day save for the rare occasions where you’d run into him in public- you’d immediately turn the other way and act as if nothing happened), you head back to the Akademiya for your second year. Like last year, you share many of your classes with the bane of your existence, although things are… less tense than they were before. The underlying spark of competition is still there, but not as prominent as before.

Alhaitham is pleasantly surprised at how you’ve mellowed out over the summer. Something in your eyes has hardened and the way your mouth is set is different now. You’ve lost some of the baby fat in your cheeks (shame, he enjoyed poking and prodding at them, much to your annoyance) and you’ve grown a bit taller as well. He’s grown taller as well and to your irritation, he’s gaining on you. He’s put on some muscle as well and according to Kaveh, who you befriended over the summer, he’s started learning the art of the sword.

(“What for?” you had asked back then. He had merely shrugged.

“Too much free time on his hands, I guess. I thought he was training to be a mercenary at first.”

“I just can’t imagine him with a sword. In my mind, I see him toppling over from the weight of it.”

“Same here.”)

On the first day back, you merely greet him with a nod and you’re less opposed to working with him than before- although you can’t seem to break the habit of making a sarcastic jab at him now and then.

As the year progresses though, Alhaitham notices a change in you- namely, your test scores. He catches a glimpse of them sticking out of your folder at the library.

85%. 75%. 83%. 79%. They’re not as good as they were last year but they aren’t a concern for Alhaitham. As far as he knows, you’re still doing good overall and your classes are getting harder. It’s only reasonable and he hasn’t observed any noticeable or drastic changes in your personality, so it doesn’t warrant any concern. 

That is, in his eyes. The same can’t be said for you though.

You didn't realize how much time you had spent studying until the library was closed one day. Sitting at your cramped desk with your roommate you barely know nowhere in sight, you’re suddenly aware of how quiet it is. Normally, you’d hear at least something- people arguing down the hall and music playing, among others. But today, it was eerily silent. 

From the back of your mind, you recall news of a party that was supposed to be happening around this time. Lisa extended an invitation to you but you turned it down, claiming that you had to study. It was a bullshit excuse, now that you think about it. 

(Lisa had looked at you knowingly when you said that, but not in a good way. Worry was present in her eyes, resigned to the fact that she couldn’t do anything.

“Alright,” she had said. “Just… don’t head down the path I think you’re on.”)

Your pen freezes mid-stroke as a horrifying thought crosses your mind. You now finally understand the true meaning of her words. 

Have I… been making the right decisions? How much have I missed out on? 

Your books and the allure of good grades tempt you, but you force yourself to evaluate your life so far. You have some of the highest marks in the entire class but you realize you have almost no experience or connections, and that was what really mattered.

All of the studying in the world can’t compare to pulling a few strings, after all.  

Not long after the year starts, Alhaitham notices that you’ve started going out more. You’re spending less of your time at the library during weekends and instead spending time with friends in the city. 

(“You actually have a life outside of the Akademiya. I’m surprised.”

“I should be the one telling you that.”)

 “Come on, (Name), come join us at the tavern tonight! We booked the place and everyone is going to be there! You’re missing out if you don’t, just saying…”

The familiar voice belonging to a certain blond makes you look up. You huff a sigh and set your notes down to glare at Kaveh, who has been pestering you to go to a party at Lambad’s Tavern tonight. You’re about to tell him you’re not interested when you stop just short of saying so.

Will I regret saying no?

“(Name), you’re young right now! Take some risks and live life a little, otherwise, you’ll have nothing to look back fondly on once you’re all old and wrinkly! That old dusty rock-of-a-friend Alhaitham would say the same thing, you know… although, maybe he’d phrase it differently.”

Kaveh’s right, you realize. I can make up a test. I can always study later. But I’m only young for a little while. I can’t make up for lost time. 

“Just curious- what’s in it for me?”

“Oh, the usual. Free food, entertainment, a break from these stupid books, alcohol- oh, and you might get to see a rare drunk Alhaitham there! Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

“No need to venture into that territory. You already had me at the free food part. So, what time?”

Later that evening at the tavern, you realize Kaveh wasn’t kidding when he said everyone was going to be there- he really did mean everyone the moment you step inside. Lisa is the center of attention with wide-eyed students gawking at her alcohol tolerance- seriously, how is she not drunk yet?- while Tighnari stands in the corner with his ears folded over and eyes squeezed shut. Cyno’s glare is more than enough to scare anyone away as he leads the fox hybrid upstairs toward a quieter spot. 

There’s enough alcohol being passed around to knock a Sumpter Beast unconscious. You only have a few drinks, not wanting to be hungover on a weekday. At one point, a familiar voice drifts its way over to you.

“(Name), over here!”

It’s Kaveh, and… Alhaitham next to him is drunk from the looks of it? His face is flushed and he stumbles as he walks with Kaveh being the only thing stopping him from faceplanting onto the floor. 

“I thought Alhaitham could handle his alcohol?” you ask as you sling one of his arms around your shoulder and make your way out the tavern. 

“He does, but he tried a new type of alcohol tonight that was stronger than he expected. Fire-something… it’s from Snezhnaya, if that explains anything.”

You glance at his heavily flushed face again and sigh.

“Yeah, that explains everything.”

After lugging Alhaitham across Sumeru City and up the many steps leading to the Akademiya, you’re prepared to say goodnight to Kaveh and head back to your dorm when you feel something latch onto your shirt. It’s Alhaitham and even in his drunken stupor, he’s surprisingly strong.  

“Wait.”

“What is it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation. His answer is instant.

“Don’t go,” he slurs out. 

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. Don’t take anything he says at face value.

But even so, you spot the opportunity to tease him. 

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because… you’re one of my only friends.”

You go quiet at that. Nothing could have prepared you for that response. Every witty remark and sarcastic jab you had prepared on the tip of your tongue fizzled out instantly. Even Kaveh, who has no shortage of words when it comes to Alhaitham, falls silent. 

In the year or so that you’ve known Alhaitham for, he’s never been one to get close with people, instead preferring to keep them at arm’s length. Most likely, it’s the alcohol inhibiting his filter, but you can’t ignore the little flutter in your stomach at his words. 

“I guess you are one to me as well, Haitham. I-”

“Say that again.”

His sudden demand makes you pause. Despite his drunken state, there’s a fire in his eyes that briefly makes you question whether he’s sober.

“... I guess you are one-”

He stops you. “No. Not that. Repeat what you said at the very end of it.”

“Haitham?”

“Call me that again.”

“Haitham.”

“Again.”

A smile creeps onto your face now that you’ve finally caught on. How cute. 

“Haitham.”

“Again.”

And secretly inside, you’re happy. Happy that someone considers you a friend for the first time. You no longer feel dehumanized from idolization or isolated from everyone else and you realize it’s what you’ve been secretly wishing for this whole time. 

“Goodnight, Haitham.”

It’s now a common occurrence between you two to drag each other to activities on the weekends. One day, it’s Alhaitham camping out with you late at night to go stargazing. (“(Name), this is boring.” “You can go home if you want. I won’t stop you.” “Hmph.”) Another day, it’s him inviting you to the various coffee shops throughout the city and sampling their beverages. (“The shop we went to last week does a pour-over better.” “You think so too?”)

Another time, you’re heading back to the Akademiya after a day of shopping and playing Genius Invocation (he lost miserably several times in a row to you, much to his embarrassment). It’s been overcast the whole day and the air has been humid but you nervously brushed off the weather’s warning signs.

Something wet lands on your cheek. You blink and look up, then at the ground where raindrops are rapidly dotting the surface. You meet Alhaitham’s gaze, the rising panic in your eyes apparently visible because he pulls you toward the souvenir shop, where you both seek shelter against the escalating downpour. Sheets of rain crash against the ground and the sides of buildings and the gusts of wind make the trees sway violently. 

(You both, like idiots, forgot to bring your umbrellas. In the middle of Sumeru’s rainy season.) 

You can barely see past your two feet but you can make out something moving nearby, and it’s getting closer. Small, gray, and most definitely sopping wet, it’s… a cat?

The small creature pauses and runs as fast as it can toward you. You take your hat off and scoop it up, where it meows pitifully and sneezes. A quick check tells you that the cat is a girl. 

“(Name), what-”

“Look, Haitham,” you whisper as you shrug your jacket off and dry the cat. “Poor baby must have gotten stranded and lost in the rain. She came running to us for help.”

The cat shakes off the last of the rain clinging to her fur and now you can see that she resembles Alhaitham quite a bit with her gray fur and green eyes. You wonder if she has his attitude as well… 

“I wonder if she’s someone’s pet cat that ran away.” 

“She’s probably one of the city’s many strays. I don’t see a collar on her.”

“She’s well-fed for one…” you grumble, noting her plump belly. “So, can we keep her?”

“(Name), you know animals, unless they’re service animals, are not allowed in Akademiya dorms.”

“That hasn’t stopped people though. Someone on my floor snuck their pet cat into the dorms and it’s an open secret among all of us.”

“But still-”

And then you hit him with puppy eyes. The edges of your mouth quiver and turn down, while your eyes soften and go wide. 

“Please?”

His resolve crumbles instantly.

“Fine. But you’re keeping it.”

You sheepishly smile. “About that…”

What now?

“My roommate is a blabbermouth and a stickler for the rules. If I kept her, she would be gone and back on the streets before noon tomorrow.”

“Are you suggesting that I take care of her?”

“Are you against it?”

“Taking care of an animal is a big responsibility, (Name). One that requires time and-”

“I can help you take care of her. With the two of us looking after her, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being optimistic or oversimplifying the problem here.” 

You roll your eyes and Alhaitham looks off to the side.

“I’ll have to ask Kaveh-”

“Kaveh would be over the moon at the prospect of you bringing home a cat. You know how much he loves animals. This cat will be in good hands under his and our care.” 

Looks like he now has no other choice but to say yes. He heaves a deep sigh and looks back up at you.

“Fine. I’ll keep her in my room.” 

Your face lights up.

“But first, we need to give her a name.” 

You scrunch your brows and think for a moment.

“How about Thamina?”

“Thamina,” he repeats. “Meaning valuable or priceless. It fits well.” 

You become a frequent visitor to Kaveh and Alhaitham’s dorm after that. It gets to the point where Alhaitham gives you his copy of the spare key so you could come and go as you please (to which Kaveh gives him a knowing look that he pointedly ignores for his own sake). At first, you primarily visited to take care of Thamina, but at some point, you began visiting primarily for him. 

Study sessions slowly move from the House of Daena to his room, with him at his desk and you sitting on his bed. Thamina bears witness to the heated debates shared between you two in the late hours of the night and the quiet moments of studying. Alhaitham is there to keep her company throughout the day, but she patiently waits for you after a long day of classes. She watches as you two steal each other’s belongings and food (occasionally joining in if she smelled fish in the box you brought home from a late-night dinner). When there is a disagreement between you two, she’s there to help you reconcile in the form of demanding affection and cuddles. 

But when she and Kaveh are fast asleep, only you two are privy to the heavy conversations that happen once and are never brought up again. 

“Tell me more about your family, Haitham.” 

He freezes, then casts a suspicious glance at you over his shoulder.

“Where is this question coming from? And why?”

You shrug.

“I just wanted to know more about the people that raised you to become the person you are today.”

“... My grandmother raised me,” he says after a moment of hesitation. “I admittedly don’t know much about my parents- only that my mother was a renowned Vahumana scholar and my father was a mentor in Haravatat. They both died in an accident, thus leaving me under my grandmother’s care.”

You make yourself comfortable on his bed and nod, urging him to continue. 

“My grandmother was a Kshahrewar scholar. By the time I was born, she had already retired. As such, she had a lot of free time. We did a lot of things together.”

He pauses to recount his fading memories of her. 

“She liked to bake. Her desserts were on the sweeter side, but I have the recipes. I can tweak them so they’re less sweet for you.”

“I’d like that very much.”

“She liked to cook as well. I’d often wake up to the smell of food in the kitchen and she’d be there at the stove. She’d make my favorites and always save most of it or the best parts for me. Unlike with baking, she never used any recipes for her cooking. I’ve tried to imitate her dishes, but it’s never exactly the same as I remember.”

Haitham’s bed is comfy, you note. You pull the covers over yourself, feeling your eyelids grow heavier. 

“Were you a chubby child who was spoiled by grandma?” you tease.

“Yes,” he admits. 

You giggle. “I wish I could have seen you as a kid, chubby cheeks and all.” 

There are baby photos his grandma kept that he now has, but he’ll never tell you that. 

“Like you, she was more of a tea person than a coffee person. She liked hers sweetened while I liked mine more plain. She never knew where she left her reading glasses and she’d always ask me to find them. When I was younger, she’d read a bedtime story to me every night. If there was nothing we were doing, I’d spend the whole day on her lap as she read the books of my choosing aloud to me. One of the last things she told me was that I was so similar to my father, both in nature and appearance. And more than anything else, she was kind.”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“Yes. I miss her a lot.”

“Your grandma sounds like an amazing person,” you sleepily mumble. “I would have liked to meet her.”

The last thing you hear before finally drifting off is Alhaitham’s whispered response.

“She would have liked to meet you too.”

And the next night, the conversation is equally as heavy.

“Hey, Haitham.”

“What is it?” he whispers back.

“Do you think that.. I don’t know, that I’m not quite who I used to be?”

Alhaitham sets his pen down.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Do you think I’ve changed in more ways than one?”

“Well, you’re less annoying now.”

You give him a well-deserved jab on the bicep with the end of your pen. Much to your annoyance, he doesn’t even flinch and continues. 

“The way I see it, change is inevitable. We all fight and run from it, but it eventually catches up with us. It is neither good nor bad. Rather, it’s what you make of it. But to answer your question, yes. You’ve matured more mentally. You’ve realized there’s more to life now. You’re learning how to live life on your own terms now, aren’t you?’

Your silence tells him everything he needs to know. 

“Tell me, Haitham. What do you wish for?”

Alhaitham is a simple man with few desires. If all his basic needs and simple wants of books and time to himself are met, then he is content. But your question has him thinking. Is there anything else he wants in his life? 

And it turns out the answer is yes. 

“Regardless of how things turn out in the future, I’d like to be able to continue talking to you like this. That’s my wish.”

Kaveh stirs in his sleep. Thamina rolls over and makes biscuits on your lap. A small smile creeps onto your face. You turn away and resume your work. He does the same.

It’s a mundane scene- two Akademiya students pulling another all-nighter to complete their work. And yet… 

Yes, this is what I want, Alhaitham thinks to himself. Everything I could ever want means nothing if you aren’t here. 

The spring semester comes around and with that comes the finals grind. You’ve thrown yourself into your studies in a last-minute attempt to save, in your opinion, your failing grades since you aren’t at the top of your class anymore. (Alhaitham thinks you’re insane- you’re still in the top five.) As if to rub it in your face, you get a letter from your family one day.

We heard that you’re no longer at the top of your class. What happened? 

Your eyes and mind glazed over the rest of the letter until the end.

Study harder. You can end it the same way you did last year if you would spend more time on it. Don’t get distracted now. 

A rare instance of frustration flashes through you and before you know it, you’ve ripped up the letter and tossed it in the trash. 

Who told them that anyway? 

“Lisa… graduated early?”

The news comes to you over dinner one day when you ask where Lisa is upon realizing she’s not there. You’ve just finished all your finals and you want nothing more than to relax and catch up on some sleep, but news regarding your best friend makes you temporarily forget about those plans. 

Cyno nods. “It’s a whole thing now. They’re saying she’s the best student the Akademiya has had in the past 200 years. Once in a generation is what they’re calling her now.”

You bite your lip and look away. A weak “tell her I said congratulations” is all you can get out as envy begins festering deep within you. You’re ashamed of yourself- she’s your best friend, for Archon’s sake, you should be feeling excited for her- but you just can’t.

Why couldn’t it have been me instead? 

You end your second year third in the class, with Alhaitham at the top.

“Welcome home, (Name).”

The house is a little chilly when you step inside. Dinner has already been prepared- it’s sitting on the table- but it looks like it was made some time ago. Your father ushers you into the kitchen, where your mother waits expectantly, her lips stretched into a thin smile when she sees you. 

There are the usual dinnertime conversations- how has your day been? Fine, yours? Same old, same old- but they feel stiffer than usual. It doesn’t flow and you find yourself internally wincing at the heavy silence between you.

“So.”

You pause and look up at your mother, who has finally broken the awkward silence surrounding the kitchen table.

“We heard you… didn’t do so well at the Akademiya this year.” 

You freeze and internally brace yourself for what is to come.

“Only third this year? (Name), you were first last year, how come you couldn’t place first again? That’s not so hard, is it? You just have to put some effort in, stop being so lazy, and you’ll do fine! Besides, it’s only your second year, what could be so difficult about it? We know you’re smart and that you could’ve easily been first again. You’re just getting complacent, that’s all! Do you really want that Alhaitham to beat you at your own game? How humiliating would that be for us? Think of the embarrassment we, your poor mother and father, would face from others in the Akademiya- our golden child (Name), who was once someone people aspired to be, but now nothing but a disappointment!”

“Your mother’s right, (Name),” says your father. “We have high expectations for you, or should I say, had.” 

Their disappointment cuts deep into your soul, yet something quietly snaps inside you. You glare at them one more time before slipping away.

“I’m not hungry anymore. I’ve lost my appetite.”

You go to your childhood room and lock the door behind you. Your parents’ voices- most definitely talking about you- drift up the stairs and you do your best to tune them out. As if to mock you, hanging on the wall across from you are all the awards you won at academic competitions throughout your life. Trophies, ribbons, certificates, and medals line every bit of space available, all of them with your name and a first-place title proudly engraved onto them.

Now that you think about it, were you really happy with being the best? Your younger self would laugh and say “of course!”, but why exactly? 

And then the realization hits you. You personally felt nothing being the best at everything. The title, the fake smiles, and the forced compliments from others- they couldn’t mean less to you.

You were only happy because your parents were happy. Were you ever happy with yourself- with who you were as a person? You don’t know.

Stars live for an incredibly long time, but they too must die out one day. Their reserves of hydrogen gas will inevitably run out and they will either go out with a bang or a fizzle depending on their size. Larger stars go out in a blaze of glory, expanding up to several times their size before exploding and bathing the universe in the remains of their supernova for eons to come, while smaller ones condense from the gravity pushing inward and shrink down into a cold white dwarf, destined to drift across the universe alone for the rest of time. That is your fate, yet you do not know it yet. The last of your fuel has finally been spent, and the end is nigh. Whether you will go out with a bang or fade into obscurity is something only time will tell. 

You’ve had enough of the stifling atmosphere in the house.

It’s only been a few days since summer vacation began and you’re already at your wit’s end. The heavy silence hanging in the air and their passive-aggressive comments toward you make you want to tear your hair out. Or run away. Maybe both. 

There are still lots of days left before you start class again. Surely there’s something you can do until then…

And then it hits you: traveling throughout Sumeru! You were born and raised in the city, but you’ve rarely ventured outside of its borders. This could be a good chance to expand your horizons and gain experience!

So without further ado, you pack your bags, plan a route, and begin your adventures. Most of the time, you’d leave at dawn before your parents woke up and return late at night after they’d fallen asleep. Sometimes, you wouldn’t return for days, instead choosing to camp outside or stay at a friend’s house for a while. From what you’ve heard through your neighbors and friends, your parents don’t seem to care what you’re doing either. Some of your friends even say that they look happier now that you’re out of the house. The notion stings, but you don’t dwell on it for too long.

There’s a strange sense of peace you feel throughout your travels that’s foreign to you. Whether it’s camping out underneath the stars or scaling a rocky cliffside, you’ve never felt more attuned to yourself than now. You gradually discover more about yourself that you otherwise would have never known. You like stargazing even more after seeing the expanse of the night sky and all its stars for the first time without the light pollution of the city. You like to swim, as demonstrated when you dove headfirst into a river for the first time and felt the cool waters wash over your skin. You’re decently skilled with a bow and arrow after Tighnari gives you some lessons and his old bow to keep yourself safe on your travels.

Most importantly, you discover how to find happiness by yourself. After being told your whole life what you could and couldn’t do, being able to take control of your life was a liberating feeling. 

You end up seeing Alhaitham quite a bit during this time. Strangely enough, he was always one of the first people you’d see returning back to Sumeru City. He’d always give you a subtle nod when he noticed you staring at him before leaving. Sometimes, he’d even be there to wish you a safe trip- no, not sometimes- almost all of the time. It’s basically a given that he’ll be there to see you off at this point. How he hears about it every time, you have no idea but you aren’t complaining. 

“Leaving early as always, I see. Where to this time, (Name)?”

You pause from checking your supplies to see Alhaitham standing behind you.

“I’m heading down to Gandharva Ville to spend some time in the rainforest. But you’re up this early just to wish me a safe trip? I didn’t take you for a morning person.”

“I’m not. But someone should see you off each time, and if your parents won’t do it, then I will.”

“Y-You… how did you know?”

“Know what?” he asks while stepping around to help you with your bag. “All I know is that I’ve never seen them send you off or welcome you back.”

“So be it then,” you grumble. “It’s not as if I care.”

So he doesn’t know about our strained relationship yet, you muse to yourself. That’s surprising, considering how big mother and father’s social circle is… 

“You’re all set now. Best you head off before it gets too hot.”

“I will. You take care as well.”

He watches you leave through the city gates until you’re no longer in sight. A rare expression of longing crosses his face then and only after lingering for a few more moments (with his eyes trained on where you once were) does he leave. 

He was lying when he pretended to be unaware of your family situation. When you’re hailed as one of the best scholars in recent times in a land that has a borderline fanatical dedication to academics, everything pertaining to you will be scrutinized and monitored. Your sudden decision to leave Sumeru for extended periods of time, and the way your parents refused to talk about you or changed the topic whenever you came up… it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. 

For your sake, Alhaitham hopes you would return later rather than sooner so you wouldn’t have to hear what was being said about you. 

“You seem to have gotten good at this,” he remarks over coffee and desserts when you return several weeks later. Alhaitham notices you’ve put on some muscle. There are some new scars and the bow slung on your back is an unfamiliar sight as well. “You would be a perfect candidate for the Adventurer’s Guild.” 

You laugh. “Nah, it’s not for me. As much as I enjoy traveling, I don’t think I could earn my living through it, plus I won’t be able to keep it up once I’m all old and wrinkly.”

“Tell me about your adventures though. Where did you go?”

Your eyes light up and you begin rambling excitedly about your travels. You go into great detail about your time spent in the Avidya Forest and your spontaneous decision to travel to Liyue, which catches him off-guard.

“Liyue?” he repeats when you mention it. “So that’s why you were gone for several weeks instead of days. I’ve never been there before. Tell me, what was it like?”

Your smile grows even bigger and your eyes may as well have been stars from how brightly they were shining.

“Oh, you should’ve seen the architecture- actually, wait, I should be telling Kaveh this- but it was so pretty! The food was super good too and a friend I made shared some of her recipes with me. I have a feeling that you’ll like them so I can teach you some other time! Ooh, and you can’t miss the scenery for the world! Personally, my favorite was…”

You’re so caught up in reliving and telling your adventures that you fail to miss the fond look in his eyes and the rare hint of a smile that stretches across his face. 

You’re halfway through recounting your way back home through the Chasm when you happen to glance at the clock and the realization begins to set in.

“I have to get going now,” you explain as you hurriedly gather your belongings. “I’m meeting up with some other friends in a bit. But thanks for the coffee and sweets. Hopefully, I’ll see you around again sometime soon?”

The chime above the door jingles as you rush outside and Alhaitham is left alone with his thoughts. With a deep sigh, he takes a look out the window and decides to address the thoughts about you that have been on his mind lately. 

You’re annoying, there’s no doubt about that. You love to push his buttons and purposefully irritate him. You’re an overachiever and you care too much about what other people think. For the longest time, your whole personality consisted of your academic accomplishments and nothing else. You’re a people pleaser and you long for acceptance and praise from others- two things he thinks are utterly useless coming from other people. The moment someone questions your abilities, regardless of who it is, you begin to second-guess yourself and waver. Ridiculous, in his opinion. You know your worth and skills better than anyone else, so why are you letting their baseless accusations affect you? You’re easily affected by rumors and your self-worth is determined by what others think of you. 

But you have a warm and welcoming demeanor that’s rare in the cutthroat halls of the Akademiya that draws others to you like a moth to a flame. You enjoy traveling and you have a major soft spot for animals, especially cats. Whenever you’re in the city, you always stop to pet all the strays roaming around, no matter how long it takes. You enjoy sweets- not the overly cloying kind, but the ones that have a touch of sweetness to the point where you can just taste it. Your favorite dessert is the Padisarah Pudding sold in the Grand Bazaar and he’s stopped by so often that the vendor knows his name, face, and order by now. You’re more of a tea person than a coffee person, but he has your coffee order memorized just in case (iced, with two sugars, a splash of milk, and rosewater) and he’s the one that has been mysteriously supplying your favorite tea whenever it’s running low. He notices you like to ramble about things you’re passionate about (and he willingly- gladly- listens too). 

And he’s come to realize that maybe you’re not as insufferable as he thought you were. You have a brilliant mind and you’re one of the few that isn’t put off by his blunt nature. You don’t just tolerate him- you appreciate him, flaws and everything. 

You’ve always been envious of him- he’s known that ever since he met you. Because of him, you have strived to prove yourself as better in all aspects. A stupid rivalry is what it started off as with your pride getting the best of both of you. But throughout these three years, you’ve only brought out the best in each other.

At this point, he doesn’t feel complete without you. 

He’s well aware of the question hanging over people’s minds whenever they see the both of you together. You are the sun, the golden child of your parents who are renowned within the Akademiya and held to the highest level of scrutiny. Their judging gazes, eyes that fixate on every move of yours, comments whispered behind your back- you take them all in stride. Meanwhile, Alhaitham’s presence is glossed over when you’re there. To many, he is just another Akademiya student that they will see in passing and forget about immediately. In that aspect, he is the moon that hides from others. Those who were acquainted with his parents or his late grandmother may recognize him and speak with him, but he mostly goes unnoticed and ignored. 

But free from the prying eyes of others, Alhaitham is able to sleep peacefully at night. Your fitful sleep, on the other hand, is plagued with dreams of what-ifs and the looming fear of disappointment from others. You’ve always succeeded, not because you craved success, but because you feared failure and how others would react.

The rising moon admires the sun because of the boundless love they receive from others. On the other hand, the setting sun is envious of the moon for his sweetest dreams that they can only long for.

You enter your third year with a sense of apprehension that wasn’t there before. Your high hopes for yourself are still there, but they’ve been dashed considerably. But despite your lack of ambition now and your experiences from last year, you still (attempt to) throw yourself into your studies, knowing that this year is where the challenge begins. Your first two years were just warmups, or nothing, according to your parents. 

Your first few weeks go well, but before you know it, you find yourself lost and overwhelmed by the material.

I… don’t understand any of this. But how could this be? I’ve spent so much time. 

Your test scores don’t reflect your efforts either.

45%. 50%. 63% 67%. 55%. 38%.

“Damn it!”

You slam your fist onto your desk table as the results of another failed test greet you. You had spent so much time preparing for this one, only for your efforts to be rewarded with a slap to the face. 

You can’t keep going like this. You need help, and desperately at that, but you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. 

You’re smarter than everyone else, you don’t need help, a familiar voice comes into your mind. You’re the pride and joy of our family because of your grades. Don’t let us down now. 

You look out the window, the heat still simmering in your stomach.

“What a load of bullshit.” 

“... I saw your test scores earlier today.” 

You glare at Alhaitham with poison in your gaze that was never there until now. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he feels strangely uneasy, like his body is warning him to stop. 

“And? Here to mock me for it?”

“No. On the contrary, I want to offer you my help.” 

Oh, the humiliation. Look at how far you’ve fallen. 

“Forget it,” you snap. “I don’t need your help.”

You get up and leave, slamming the doors shut behind you. It echoes through the House of Daena and the other students there turn to stare at Alhaitham in silent shock. He’s stunned too. Although you can have quite the sharp tongue at times, you’ve never lashed out at him like that before. 

A few weeks later, the results of another test are announced. Alhaitham’s name sits at the top like it always has. His name is on everyone’s tongue as they jealously grumble over the results once again. His eyes examine the list, searching for one name in particular, until he finds yours at the bottom of it.

He pauses, then turns around in time to see you storming out. He doesn’t miss the looks your classmates give you- mocking, ridiculing, scornful, and disgusted sneers that relish in your downfall. The jealous grumbles about him now turn into titters and sneering whispers with your name now being trampled upon by those that used to extol your virtues. It’s all noise and it grates his ears until he can’t stand it anymore.

“What a waste of time.”

The noise stops and everyone turns to look at him. 

“You all have the energy to complain about your own scores while making a laughing stock of someone else. It’d be better spent on improving your own scores- unless you’re just that incompetent?”

Later that night as you’re studying, you get a message from your parents through your Akasha. It’s the first time you’ve gotten anything from them all year. After hesitating, you open the message.

It’s short and simple but your heart sinks and your temper flares after reading it. You rip your Akasha Terminal off and toss it to the side. 

Don’t come home this year. 

“I need your help. I’m asking for a friend.”

Alhaitham looks over his book at you. It’s the first time he’s seen you all week and to be frank, you look awful. Your hair is a mess, your uniform is wrinkled, and your skin looks dry and dull.

“Do I know them? If not, then I won’t help.”

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up exasperatedly.  “Ok fine, yes, you know them.”

“Well, why won’t they just ask me themselves? Why trouble you?”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter right now. Just answer the damn question.”

He leans back and knowingly looks at you. 

“They’re going through a tough time right now,” you explain, choosing each of your words carefully. “They aren’t doing good in their classes and they’re trying to get back on track, but they don’t know how to.”

“... This is for you, isn’t it?”

Damn, he saw right through you. Were you that obvious?

Alhaitham goes back to reading his book. “I can’t say I would be of any use here. After all, I’ve never been in that position nor would I let myself get there.” 

You feel your temper flare once more. You clench your jaw and try to reign in your anger before speaking to him. 

“Well, duh. You’re also not helping either.”

“Really? I think it’s a perfectly reasonable answer.”

“Put yourself in my shoes for once, would you?”

He sets his book down and looks at you.

“You asked me for my advice and I told you what I would do in that situation. I don’t understand why you’re getting upset.”

“That’s because it’s not the answer I’m looking for!”

“That’s on you for expecting others to somehow know what you want without telling them.”

“You-!”

You groan and run your hands through your hair.  Is it just you or is he being more insufferable today? Can’t he read the room for once? 

He continues. “If you wanted someone to only tell you what you wanted to hear, a mirror would be a better audience.”

“Alhaitham, all I’m asking from you is a little empathy. Is that so hard to have?”

“And is it so hard for you to stop throwing a hissy fit just because I didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear?”

His words are all spite and knives meant to hurt. They lack the usual lighthearted tone he has with you. You feel it coming- the barbed words that are poised to strike and cut deep, but it doesn’t help when he begins speaking again. 

 “You asked for my help and I gave you advice. You’re not in a position to be complaining here.” 

“Yeah, well, your ‘advice’ isn’t what most people would consider as help.”

He scoffs and looks away before looking at you once more- like he’s looking down on you, you realize. There’s something akin to disgust and impatience in his gaze that makes you freeze despite all your sharp words earlier. 

“How irrational could you be? You reject everyone’s help even though you need it and you don’t listen to anybody’s suggestions. You’re too caught up in the conception that you’re always right and everyone else is always wrong. You’re childish, (Name), that’s what you are. You’re like a child still naive and ignorant, content with playing with their toys and games and ignoring reality. You’re not cut out for the Akademiya. You never were.”

He laughs and now you realize just how much it hurts when it’s directed toward you. 

“And you’re telling me that my ego is overinflated. No wonder you’re failing everything. Archons, (Name), you’re utterly hopeless. What did I ever see in you?”

The silence that fills the space afterward is enough to make Alhaitham immediately regret his words. You angrily glare at him and Alhaitham’s heart sinks when he recognizes the emotion present in your eyes.

Utter hate.

“... For all these years, I've heard so many rumors about you but chose to brush them off,” you begin. “I was so stupid! I should have listened to them! They say you’re cold and heartless and only now do I realize that they were right. They say you’re not human from how cruel you are- archons, dammit! Look at me!”

The sudden demand makes Alhaitham nervously glance toward you after avoiding your gaze this entire time. You sniff and wipe away the few tears that managed to spill over. Losing your composure in front of him, the perfect and poised genius, was already humiliating enough, but you hold his gaze long enough to let him see. Let him witness the results of his own actions and the prospect of losing someone he cared about (all over again).

“You’re an absolutely horrible person, Alhaitham. I hope you remember this.”

Alhaitham. It’s the first time you’ve used his full name ever since you befriended him and the implications of it sting. 

He reaches out toward you. “Wait-”

You slap his hand away. 

“No, we’re done here. I thought you could at least understand, but you’re just as uncaring and self-centered as everyone else here. And I once thought that you were better than anyone else here, but only now do I realize how stupid I was."

You laugh sardonically one last time.

“My parents were right. They would have been so much happier if you were their child.”

Alhaitham doesn’t see you again for several weeks after that. It’s as if you’re purposefully avoiding him and it gets to a point where he’s beginning to get concerned about your health and safety. 

Currently, he’s meeting with Tighnari. Out of everyone, the fox hybrid had the highest chance of knowing with his keen sense of hearing.

“I’m concerned about (Name).”

Tighnari’s ears twitch in response. 

“They aren’t the same person anymore. You’ve seen it too.”

The fox hybrid sadly nods. “They’ve been consumed by rage and self-hate. I see it in their eyes and the way they lash out. They’re angry at themselves and at everyone around them and it’s completely understandable considering the situation and the response of those they trusted most. Still, it’s not healthy if they continue like this. Speaking of which, were they always this temperamental?”

Alhaitham shakes his head. “No. To be clear, they’ve always had a sharp tongue but it was always lighthearted. They only started getting truly angry this year.”

“Lashing out or displaying signs of anger is often a common symptom of burnout. I’m fairly confident that’s what (Name) has. Specifically, academic burnout. But I’m sure you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Alhaitham uncomfortably avoids Tighnari’s prying eyes. 

Tighnari’s eyes narrow. “Look, (Name) is a great friend to me as well, but why are you telling me about this? You’re in their Darshan so shouldn’t you know more?”

“I haven’t heard anything about them either. I got concerned after they didn’t show up at the library for a week. From what I’ve heard, they haven’t been showing up to class either for the past few weeks, which is strange for them. I’m asking around- maybe I’ll find something out that way.”

Tighnari shakes his head. “Sadly, I don’t know why either. If it helps, some people have said they haven’t even seen them. Not just at the library or at class but in general. It’s almost as if they’ve just… disappeared.”

There’s a moment of silence that passes between them. Tighnari stares at Alhaitham curiously and he rests his chin on his hands.

Alhaitham doesn’t have a good feeling about this…

“Speaking of which, does the fight from earlier have anything to do with this?”

“You knew?”

“Please. When two of my closest friends get into an argument as big as that, I’m bound to find out eventually. So, did it have anything to do with this?”

“... Yes,” he admits. “I feel guilty and I want to apologize to them.” 

“Well, better late than never,” grumbles Tighnari under his breath. The stink eye he sends his way doesn’t go unnoticed by Alhaitham. 

“Why do you care for them so much?”

The question comes out of nowhere and leaves him reeling. 

“I suppose it’s… because I consider them a friend?”

Archons, that answer sounds even more pathetic out loud than it did in his head and Tighnari knows it. 

Tighnari heaves a long sigh that makes Alhaitham pause.

“You absolute lummox!” he snaps. “I always knew you were somewhat emotionally constipated but I didn’t think you’d be this dense…”

He suddenly stands up and stares the ashen-haired male in the eye, his tone softer this time. 

“You’re in love with them, Alhaitham. That’s what you’ve been feeling lately.”

Alhaitham immediately scoffs. “No, that can’t possibly be-”

“You, who hates sharing what you consider yours, share your notes with them.”

“It’s a win-win situation for both of us. We’re in the same Darshan and we’ll be able to learn better from each other.”

“But them, specifically, when there are countless others that would kill for the chance to learn from you?”

“They can figure the material out themselves. Plus, I stand to gain no benefit from what they have to offer.”

“What, so only (Name) can keep up with you?”

“Precisely.” 

Tighnari sees the opening Alhaitham has created and takes advantage of it.

“Are you sure that you’re still rivals? Even though (Name) is…”

“Of course. It’s been like that since day one.”

“Huh, that’s interesting. Because from what I know, academic rivals don’t go out to lunch together. They don’t go stargazing even though a certain someone finds it mind-numbingly boring. They don’t sneak out past curfew and break Akademiya rules on a daily basis, and they certainly don’t spend hefty chunks of Mora to make the other happy.” 

Tighnari has Alhaitham backed into a corner and he knows it. 

“Kaveh knows as well.”

“And?”

“And you still let yourself get roped into his schemes to make them happy. Look, I know this isn’t a good time to bring him up considering…”

He gestures at the empty space, a silent indication of Kaveh and Alhaitham’s broken friendship. 

“But there’s no denying that Kaveh did and still does care about you. Why else would he be willing to put in so much time and effort to make them happy? Because in addition to being their friend, he knows that when they’re happy, you are as well. And if that doesn’t mean something, then, I don’t know what else does.”

“We’re just friends,” he argues once again. Tighnari glares at him.

“You’re an idiot to think it doesn’t go deeper than that. You also saw them off every single time during the summer.”

“That’s what friends do. Besides, their parents should have-”

“Uh-huh. Go on, keep lying to yourself like that. Do I have to hit you over the head with a brick in order for you to realize your own feelings? You’re sounding like a broken record here.” 

“I-”

“There’s no use in denying or lying to us, Alhaitham. We’re your friends, after all. But the one who’s going to have to decide what to do next is you.”

He gets up and gives Alhaitham a pat on the shoulder. Before leaving, he looks at him one last time.

“It’s going to hurt even more when you lose them for good. You’ll only wish you could have done something sooner. But I think you already know that by now, right, Alhaitham?”

“Do you know where (Name) is?”

It’s a rare occasion today- Alhaitham actually showed up for class. But it wasn’t to listen to whatever the professor had to say- no, it was to ask your classmates where you went. He’s been trying every day to find you, but only to no avail. 

He’s gained some valuable information, however. Your roommate moved out a while ago, leaving you the sole occupant of your dorm room. He also managed to find your dorm room number after asking some of your “friends”, who after relentless prying, reluctantly opened up. 

“I can’t say for sure, but I heard they’re in the hospital. They somehow ended up there over the weekend.” 

“The hospital?” he repeats. “Do you know why?”

“No idea. Sorry.”

He shows up at the Birmarstan after the class ends, fully expecting to see you. He gives the nurse his name and a few minutes later, she returns with an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry, but the patient is not accepting visitors at this time.”

A slight pause. Barely perceptible.

“I see.”

You look at the window to see Alhaitham’s retreating form. The nurse enters your room a few minutes later and crosses her arms.

“He’s the first person who’s asked to visit you ever since you came in. I’m surprised- I thought you’d get more. Most people usually do.”

You pull the covers over your head and roll over. Such is the way of life in the Akademiya. Friendships were formed out of convenience as a way to climb up the ladder later in life. As soon as you were no longer useful or fell from grace like you did, others were quick to abandon you without a second thought. 

So why did Alhaitham visit then? To you, your relationship (as enemies? Friends? Or even…) was built solely on how you could assist each other, and nothing more. By your prior logic, there is no logical reason why he should visit you.

Unless… 

“Is there any reason why you didn’t want to see him in particular?”

Even if your hypothesis proved to be true, it doesn’t excuse or undo the hurt he caused.

“He’s the last person I want to see right now.”

A few days after being discharged from Birmarstan, there’s a knock from the door that wakes you up from your sleep. Still disoriented, you look up and roll over, opting to ignore it and go back to sleep.

The knocking continues. You cover your ear with a pillow and squeeze your eyes shut even more.

“I know you’re there, (Name). Several people told me so.”

Shit, it’s the last person you want to see right now. Your mood sours instantly and now you’re fully awake. 

“What do you want?” you snap. 

“I just want to talk.”

It doesn’t seem like he’ll be going away anytime soon, so you get up, kicking the trash that litters the floor to the side, and carefully cracking open the door. He looks down to see you. You pull the sleeves of your shirt down as he does so. 

“Can I come in?”

You look behind at the mess that is your dorm.

“... It’s not exactly clean right now.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

You flick the lights on and hide the worst of the trash underneath your bed. He follows you, his gaze traveling around the room. He notices the side with the unoccupied bed is considerably cleaner (that must have been your roommate’s before they moved out, he reasons) and your desk looks like it hasn’t been used in a while. He takes a seat at it and examines the table. Your Akasha Terminal is lying in the corner and collecting dust. Your textbook is open to a section that was taught a while ago and it looks like you just started taking notes. 

(Although, the frustrated scribbles that occupy most of the page have him concerned. Additionally, certain parts of the paper are wrinkled, as if they have dried after getting wet. The shape and spot where they are concentrated in is another cause for concern as well. Were you… crying?)

You pull the covers over your form and glare at him. 

“Well? What did you want to tell me?”

“I’m sorry.”

You pause, then shake your head.

“That alone won’t be enough.”

“I know. And that’s why-”

He gulps, his voice shaking toward the end. It’s just a simple apology, so why is he so nervous?

(But deep down he knows the real answer: this is his last chance to ask you for forgiveness before losing you for good. And it was the thought of losing you, the one that had managed to worm their way into his heart and appreciate him that scared him the most.) 

“I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t have said those things back then. I should have been more understanding of your struggles and, like you said, had some more empathy. I realize that I am far from an ideal friend in many people’s eyes and if you feel the same, I will not hold that against you.”

His chest tightens and he subconsciously looks away.

“I’m aware of how people see me- valuing logic above all with a mind fueled by equations and facts over feelings. A genius with no regard or need for others. But I’m still human. I feel regret and remorse the same way as anyone else. I know when I’ve messed up and when I need to apologize. Now is one of those times, more than ever.” 

You turn around and open the blinds, letting the light flood the room before sitting back down, watching him carefully. 

“I don’t want to forgive you. Do you have any idea how long your words lingered for?”

The words sting Alhaitham. Your voice shakes and you feel the familiar burning sensation in your eyes. 

“But I know you. I know your bluntness and sharp tongue. You often say hurtful things but don’t mean them. You’re stubborn and slow when it comes to apologizing, even if the guilt eats away at you. You don’t wear your heart on your sleeve and you’re not one to dish out praises, leading others to believe that you’re cold and unsympathetic.”

You suddenly lean in, staring into the eyes that had kept you awake at night for so long. His eyes widen slightly and you smile faintly to yourself. 

“But I like to think that I’ve gotten to know you a bit. You show that you care with your actions, not your words, but that takes time- time that most people aren’t willing to give because of their first impression of you. You take the time to learn about the people you care about and prefer acts of service to words of affirmation and physical touch as your love language. You show that you care in a way of your own.

“So yes. I forgive you.”

Alhaitham finds himself sighing with relief. Yet a question still lingers in the back of his mind.

“Why?”

And there it is again, for the first time in a long time. Your smile. It’s a little stiff and awkward, as if you haven’t smiled in a long time, but it’s undoubtedly yours. 

“The same reason. I missed you too.” 

And now begins the uncomfortable process of recovery. 

“How long were you gone for?”

“... Longer than I’d like to admit. Catching up is going to be a difficult task, isn’t it?”

“I won’t sugarcoat it; you’ve missed a lot.” Alhaitham flips through your books and notes from prior years. “However, you have a strong foundation from your earlier years. That should help you. But first, let me ask you a few questions so I can outline a study plan for you.”

You raise your eyebrows at his statement.

“You’re taking this quite seriously, aren’t you?”

“Naturally,” he replies. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Knowing you, you’re not the kind of person to go out of your way for others,” you grumble. “So going to such lengths just for me…” 

“You discredit me if you think that I would do that. But why do you think you felt burnt-out in the first place?”

You look out the window and think for a bit.

“... I think it’s because of my own pride. Had I asked for help earlier on, I have a feeling I wouldn’t be in this position, or things would be better, at least,” you admit. 

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

You sigh and hold your hands out in defeat. “You surely know more than you’re letting on. But I think it’s also because I never learned how to study.”

Alhaitham pauses at that. “Really?”

There’s no mockery or derision in his question- just curiosity. 

“People goaded me on as a gifted child and I was expected to somehow know how to do everything perfectly the first time, you know? It’s just how things were.”

“Well, that’s something we can fix for sure.”

Your first few days back are the worst. Whispers and stares follow you wherever you go and your professors, who once showered you with praises, look at you strangely or even ignore you. 

“Don’t mind them,” he says when he notices you sulking in the library later that day. “You and I both know that’s just the way the Akademiya is. We’ll see who gets the last laugh.” 

Much to the envy of your classmates, he also personally tutors you in all your classes. He accompanies you to all your classes (even the ones he isn’t taking) and sits in on them, whispering and writing little notes of clarification and elaboration. 

Bit by bit, you see your scores slowly improve. Alhaitham teaches you an array of study techniques, many of which have been personally vetted by him.

“Try each of them out,” he says. “Different techniques work for different people. There is something out there that works for you.”

He’s able to bear witness to the fruits of your labor one day when he hears your excited footsteps running toward him.

“Haitham, look!”

You practically shove several papers into his face. “I got a perfect score on the latest exam! And guess what? I tied with you, meaning that I also placed first!”

A rare smile, solely reserved for your eyes, creeps onto his face. 

“Good job. Your score is well-deserved after all the hard work you’ve been putting in.”

He sees it now. Slowly but surely, you’re regaining bits and pieces of your old self. You’ll never be exactly who you once were, but that’s ok. You’ll pick the broken yet salvageable parts up and put them together to create something new yet still distinctly you.

He only looks forward to seeing what you’ll become in the future. 

You’ve finally graduated.

It’s a joyous occasion today, filled with speeches, hugs, and promises to keep in touch. Families and friends crowd outside the Akademiya to congratulate their loved ones. The diploma in your hands and the cords around your shoulders are a sign of your achievements and your persistence despite all the roadblocks you faced along the way. 

Your heart feels simultaneously burdened and relieved. You had graduated squarely in the middle of the class. You knew it was something to be proud of, yet that part of your former self that you could never suppress couldn’t help but feel disappointed. 

Not that it really bothered you anyway. When you walked across the stage to the smattering of applause accompanying your name, you had immediately locked eyes with Alhaitham in the crowd. He was clapping, but what caught your attention the most was the smile he sent your way. It wasn’t one of his once in a blue moon microscopic ones.

No. It was one where you could see a sliver of his teeth and where the edges of his eyes crinkled from it, the sight of which sent your heart ablaze. There was pride in his gaze and in that moment, you felt as if everything had been worth it- even if it wasn’t the outcome you expected. 

And when he walked across the stage, you were the one to clap for him the loudest. 

You push your way through the heavy crowds, searching for one person in particular. He’s not anywhere in the crowd, so you head down the walkway and there you see him. He’s waiting for you with a large bouquet of flowers in his arms.

“Took you long enough,” he remarks. Alhaitham holds out the flowers to you and you accept them gratefully. 

“Oh, you remembered my favorite flowers!” you exclaim as you examine the bouquet. “I have something for you as well.”

You hand him an envelope and he eyes it curiously when a voice interrupts you. 

“(Name).”

You hear an awkward cough behind you and you turn to see your parents. They stand there awkwardly, fidgeting with their hastily-purchased bouquet of flowers that pales in comparison to what Alhaitham got you. 

(You don’t even like the kind of flowers your parents got for you and you’ve told them that before…) 

“Congratulations on gradu-”

“Oh, you must be Alhaitham!”

Your mother’s sudden remark takes all of you by surprise. She rushes forward and eagerly shakes his hand.

“I’ve heard so much about you! You just graduated and you’ve already made a name for yourself in Sumeru as a genius! How incredible is that? Ah, if only my child here could learn from you, but they’ve already graduated, so it’s a little too late for that now…”

You bite your lip and look away. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Alhaitham. He retracts his hand. 

“It was nice to meet you. We’ll be taking our leave now.”

“We’ll?” 

Alhaitham ignores them in favor of holding your hand and leading you away.

“I think a celebration is in order. The owner of the stall that sells your favorite Padisarah Pudding is offering us free dessert today.” 

The heaviness that was hanging over you just a moment ago is now gone.

“Free desserts? I’m in!”

“Then it’s settled.” 

Later that night, Alhaitham remembers the letter you gave him earlier and pulls it out. He glances at the clock. There’s still time before he has to leave and meet up with you.

Dear Alhaitham,

Thank you for being by my side throughout these four years when no one else was. I owe my entire academic career to you. Perhaps even my entire life. I don’t know if I’d be writing this letter if it weren’t for you. 

When I saw you on the first day, I wondered what you were doing here. You were short, scrawny, and shy back then. I thought you were one of those child prodigies. Who knew you’d turn out to be the buff man skilled with the sword that I know today… 

Honestly, I didn’t think that you would help me. You were the envy of our class, unlike me. I wouldn’t be surprised and I wouldn’t blame you if all that praise got to your head. I guess I didn’t know you well enough back then, though, because you defied all of my expectations. Not only did you not care for status or fame, you also took time out of your own day (which I know you hate doing) for me. 

You really are an enigma, Haitham. You’re a person with several layers and hidden secrets like an intricately-designed mechanism. But I think that’s one of the reasons that drew me to you. Everyone has their own secrets and burdens. By slowly learning more about each other, you learn more about yourself. 

You and I, we are inseparable now. Earlier today, I had someone come up to me and ask where you were. They were surprised that you weren’t next to me like always. At first glance, we seem more different than similar, especially with our contrasting personalities. But take a closer look and they’ll see that we share more in common than in differences. Opposites attract, but similarities bind. 

Like those dusty old philosophers and figures that we had to learn about in class, we are parallels of each other. You are simultaneously my biggest critic and supporter. My biggest rival and confidant. My biggest headache and source of comfort. 

But most importantly, you are my biggest friend. 

Remember that one night where I asked you what you wished for? You had said that you wanted to keep talking to me regardless of how things turned out in the future. I didn’t really have a response at the time, but now I finally do.

My wish is selfish. I wish for you to stay the way you are. A little arrogant, blunt, curious, and caring in your own way. Because I can’t imagine a future without you in it now. 

With all my love,

(Name)

The house is too quiet for Alhaitham’s liking. He appreciates silence when working and Kaveh’s incessant noise from working on projects at midnight is downright irritating, but there is a time and place for everything.

Now is not that time. Thamina is sleeping on the cushion next to him. Kaveh is out in a meeting with a client (for once) and you’re-

“I’m home!”

Speak of the devil, there you are. Thamina’s eyes open and she jumps off the cushion to greet you with a loud meow and a head rub against your legs. Alhaitham takes his headphones off and sets his book down before getting up to greet you after a long journey back from Mondstadt. You’re tired, your uniform is wrinkled, and your Kamera has been hastily shoved back into its case, but Alhaitham has never been more grateful to see you. 

“Missed me?”

“You’ve been gone for too long,” he grumbles before pulling you into a tight hug and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Love, it was only for a month!”

“My point still stands.”

You scrunch your face up and eventually manage to wiggle your way out of his grasp. It’s been a few years since you’ve graduated. Alhaitham has dutifully taken on the responsibilities of the Akademiya’s Scribe while you now work as a reporter for a newspaper company. You love the job because it puts your Haravatat degree to good use and you get paid to travel, although you don’t like the part of being away from Alhaitham for extended periods of time.

“Are you still up for dinner and dessert even though it’s getting late?”

“At my favorite place?”

“Our favorite place,” he corrects.

“Oh, you like it now as well? Did some of my tastes rub off onto you?”

“The pudding runs I went on for you did that a long time ago.”

Comets are ephemeral in nature. Some of them are only seen once and then gone, lost in time and never to be seen again. But occasionally, in a twist of fate, they can be rediscovered although it may take hundreds or even thousands of years for them to return.

That comet he had wished upon several years ago had finally returned to him.