Chapter Text
—March 19th, 2 years before present day.
The air was thinning, a pressure weighing down at the pit of her lungs as her calves cramped. The harsh, snow-clad terrain slapped and prickled at her face, reminiscent of the same familial palm that clashed against her cheek thrice before. She could only gasp for air as the adrenaline pumped through her veins, a quiet, numb thud under the skull simmering to run, leave, escape… break free and flee.
I can’t do it. I can’t do this. A film roll of her sins flooded her mind, with guilt rattling her chest and shoulders. It almost overpowered the shivers caused by the cold air, but she never once faltered in her sprint. Were the gods still helping her? Lending her aid like her mother said they always would?
No tears fell from her golden eyes any longer. All her mind screamed for was to reach the borders, the unbound sea, until she finally rid herself of her predecessor's prying surveillance.
From what seemed like sheer willpower alone, the shouts of knights following her trail silenced. The sound of waves crashing against a frozen coastline washed over her senses. Never had she been this reckless or without plan.
If her past self looked upon the sight of her body crumbling on the ground like a small branch, she would have ascended to Celestia from mortification alone. Yet when faced with a small sail pulling up to the shore, she could only thank a trusted servant for the arrival of her saviours.
—Present Day.
A pained cry echoed through the dark hallway of cells. This place was no prison. It was a long line of torture chambers. Where benevolence prevailed, concealed evils remained rampant beneath the soil. Kunikuzushi was the embodiment of those shadows, walking with silent pride over his given duty. The blood on his hands maintained the order of mankind itself, and there was no greater pleasure than the pleads he could siphon out of sinful souls.
“A righteous, bloody hound. That is what I need,” the Tsaritsa once told the puppet when he was still not yet carrying the cries belonging to the thousands of souls he had tormented. You must set humanity’s will on the right path. Strike fear and pain into their bodies until it is stripped into naught, where only the search for light and yearning for love remain. This honour, he treated like sacred scripture.
With his chest growing indifferent to the ugliness he had come to accept about his constitution, no one else could do that job better than ‘kunikuzushi’ himself.
“P-please, I never did anything.. Gods, just leave me alone..!” the prisoner clutched his mutilated hand with terror, wide eyes shaking into near oblivion. The neighbouring cellmates could only close their eyes shut, praying that the noise stopped sooner than usual. They were used to shouting, whimpering, and wailing, but that didn’t make it any less disturbing to hear.
Their captor normally never bothered to speak or crack a smile whenever he was tormenting his prisoners, and no amount of screams could make him waver. Sooner or later, each and every person trapped in Kunikuzushi’s clutches eventually realize that they are wasting their breath from mere reaction. The longer someone has spent chained down to the palace’s underworld, the quieter they become until rendered mute from exhaustion.
The young man lets out another agonizing yell when Kunikuzushi’s katana slowly dragged across the line of his mouth, blood pooling through his skin like beaded jaspers. The beast’s eyes were set carefully on the prisoner’s expression, watching every twitch of muscle and every shake of his breath.
“You’re a monster…” the man cries out, his voice shaking in both fear and anger simultaneously. Kunikuzushi only hummed, letting his arm fall gracefully to his side, the bloodied iron tip of his sword dragging along the pavement as he finally walked toward the exit of the cell.
Kunikuzushi brushes his dishevelled bangs aside, revealing the glowing indigo sheen of his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself… Everyone down here is a monstrosity. I am simply delivering the fate you all deserve.” he said in a patient and deceitfully sweet tone, like a guardian simply explaining one of the world’s truths to their maturing child. “I am different from all of you. You will never see the light of day until repentance.”
Just as he was about to lock the cell door with a blank smile, the words that came out of the prisoner’s bleeding mouth halted his calm front.
“You’re no different at all, you will rot here alongside all of us…” The man coughed weakly and held his injured face.
The executioner met the prisoner’s bloodshot eyes as he continued to speak his final words.
“You are the most captive and shackled person in all of Snezhnaya.”
A few days later, it is safe to say that when the new addition to the Tsaritsa’s prison gets transferred into that man’s now empty cell, something told them to swallow down the nausea that came with the sight of desiccated blood splattered all over the walls in obscene amounts.
Like a mannequin, the puppet sat stiffly in his office, which were also his chambers. It was the only place on the lowest floors of the palace that didn’t have walls haunted by eerie ghosts of human suffering.
The young man had said something that made his feet take him back into the cell and end his speech permanently that time.
Kunikuzushi wasn’t a fool. He knew full well that he was far from pure, and that he bore the nation’s karmic burdens. A prisoner in Snezhnaya remains a prisoner for life. He hates nothing more than someone thinking themselves superior to him when they were just as ugly.
That man was wrong, because Kunikuzushi can’t be shackled if he doesn’t even see his duty as a cage to begin with. After all, what use was freedom to him when it was the very cause of his abandonment? Humans are the ones under the illusion of free will… their desire for freedom is pathetically devoid of meaning. He couldn't bring himself to bat an eye for those who have lost their future.
This was far better than continuing to chase a sense of humanity he knew he would never reach.
A knock on his door interrupts his brooding. Getting up with a sigh, his hanging sleeves flutter behind him. Glancing at the clock, he twists the knob and is greeted by a servant. “Good afternoon,” he says.
“Her majesty summons you, my lord,” the servant bows customarily.
“What about?” Kunikuzushi asks plainly.
“I believe it concerns Princess Katerina.”
This makes the puppet raise a brow. The heir had been missing for over two years, and has still not been found. It was honestly unusual, considering that the Tsaritsa had both divine and diplomatic power at her disposal to bring her daughter back immediately. Yet somehow, the young lady is still missing after all this time.
Though he had spent all his time in the prison ever since the princess’ departure, he can still faintly remember what her voice sounded like. He remembers the little one, so timid yet explosive when frustrated, threatening to snitch to her mother whenever Kunikuzushi would knock her off balance during the times he would train her in combat. It was all harmless and empty talk on her part, never truly doing anything she would spit out due to a persisting and underlying cowardice. All he could think of at the time was about how children were truly puny. That their pathetic, stubby hands were almost a source of entertainment.
Of course, he never let himself get too harsh on the child. Her Majesty wouldn’t hesitate to dismember him if he truly did anything to hurt her daughter. For some reason, her Highness was entirely confident with entrusting Katarina to his teachings. Or perhaps, she was just too busy to care for her own child herself, so she threw her away to the one isolated subordinate she knew. A subordinate that she tamed to obedience and gave purpose from the very beginning. Whatever the reason was, he did not bother to question.
The Tsaritsa was too much of a mystery filled with countless contradictions on the surface of the ice. A regular human’s mind would probably explode into a kaleidoscope of flesh if they even knew half of what she wants.
It was only the irony that nagged at him, because what kind of protective mother valuing purity.. would let their daughter anywhere near a monster like him?
Accompanied by the servant, he makes his way up a long line of stairs. As he went up, the brick stone walls of the building transitioned from an imposingly dull gray filled with various impurities, to a clean marbled white, polished and properly luxurious in its prestige. Sunlight illuminated the palace halls, the warmth of heating a stark contrast to the ice-cold blues that permeated the environment. It almost strained his eyes having been far from windows for so long.
Upon reaching the main hall, the servant slows their steps and speaks before they part ways. “Her majesty awaits you in the arsenal.”
Kunikuzushi gathers himself, straightening out his black haori and entering the armory. By the window stood the deity, idly twirling an intricate dagger of ice in the air, her imitation silver claws glinting like a taunt.
“You called,” he walked up to her slowly.
The Tsaritsa does not spare him a glance, looking serenely out of the window. She always did have a calm affect, never seeming to be troubled by any of the world’s transgressions for she is a mere onlooker, playing a chess game only a select few were invited to gaze upon. The puppet was, once again, in the dark about her true motivations but he never bothered to pry, nor was he interested in doing so. He’d rather do his current job than be possibly used as a medium of research by one of her lunatic harbingers.
“How do you fare, Hound?” she implores.
Kunikuzushi huffs softly, “Mundanely. I don’t suppose you summoned me here for any old reason, your Highness.”
“You are quite right. It is pleasant to be greeted with your… uninhibited self. My subordinates tend to be filled with winding conversations of wit and theatrics,” she turns around and faces him, her eyes obscured by white veils. “It tends to eat away at time. That being said, I have a task for you.”
How unusual. “What is your command?”
“I heard that my dear Katerina is aboard a certain vessel, docked somewhere in Liyue,” she said frankly.
At this, Kunikuzushi felt himself tense up. So she does know about her whereabouts. Normally, this task would have been given to someone of harbinger status—at least if she was going to order him what he thinks she will. He doubts that he would enjoy this ‘task,’ but he does not presume and waits. Deep down, curiosity and intrigue about news on the princess is growing in his gut.
“I want to dispatch you to search for her. Bring her back to her rightful place,” a beat. “With her mother,” she spoke firmly, clasping her hands together on her lap.
Somewhere, discarded deep within his memories, a rough hand manicured with a tender shade of lilac wipes tears off a weeping newborn’s cheeks— followed by the harsh thud of spruce-coloured grass embracing the carcass of an emptied chest.
“I don’t mean to pry, but why wouldn’t you send someone like Lady Signora for an assignment with such high stakes? Who would take my place in the prison?” Kunikuzushi crosses his arms. “I fail to understand why I would be a suitable candidate when there hasn’t been news of the princess’ return for a long time.”
The Tsaritsa hums. “You’ve kept your ear to the ground, I see. Well-informed indeed, considering you have spent some time cooped up down below.”
She walks over to the weapons displayed along the walls of the armory, decked in crystals and encased in glass. “I need a catalyst. Someone who will suit my plans to change my approach. I know she will not be swayed by the Fatui. In fact, she might retreat back into her burrow instead.” She looks back at the puppet, “you are the pawn most suited for this job, child. You were the one who taught her how to defend herself.”
In other words, Kunikuzushi must be the one responsible for how the princess has managed to survive out in this world.
“... I don’t possess resources or subordinates like the others do,” he looks up at her. “Nor do I possess a vision.”
“Don’t be silly. As a puppet, you are perfectly capable. Don’t worry about the underground. I’m certain you’ve done enough to cleanse their sins for now.” Breeze from an open window blows on her veil, revealing a gracious smile that reaches her eyes. “As for subordinates.. I believe you won’t need it.”
—March 21st, 2 years before present day.
After the events of her escape, the youth’s eyes fluttered open, a heavy exhaustion passing through her body as her surroundings blurred into view. Murmuring voices were distant behind a wooden door, and she realized she was bundled up in warm blankets on a stiff bed. She shuts her eyes back again when a wave of sickness passes through, and she only notices a woman sitting from across the room after she hears some shuffling and footsteps coming closer.
“Easy kid. You fainted from extreme cold and stress.” the woman immediately passes her a glass of water and a singular pill. “Take this, it’ll make the nausea go away.”
The girl sits up weakly, taking the pill and looking up at the woman, who wore glasses and had black hair framing her face. “I really made it..? Is this the armed fleet?” she asks, placing the pill on her dry tongue and bracing herself to swallow it down with water.
“You’re right, we took you in,” she adjusts her glasses. “Our crew was contacted by your servant. It’s hard to imagine we actually managed to pull this off, but our captain’s abilities never fail to bring new things to the table,” the lady chuckles. Extending her hand, she introduces herself. “My name is Yinxing, I am the surgeon and medic of the Crux Fleet. How are you feeling?”
“Ugh.. um… my legs just feel sore. I’m alright, thank you so much. I-I really can’t thank you enough,” the young girl clutches the blanket in her fists.
“It’s not me you should be thanking, but the captain and your helper. Snezhnaya was quite the turbulent trip, but we’ll be travelling all the way to Mondstat for the meantime. The Fatui may well be on our tails.” Yinxing puts her hands on her hips, “You were out for the whole day yesterday, and it’s currently midday.”
“I see…” she cringes when she reaches up to caress her own face, feeling the roughness of her open pores, demanding to be cleansed.
“You’ll have to wait a bit before showering, miss Katerina. It’s obvious you spent a long time without food and water before getting to the shores. I’ll need you to eat first.”
“Ah.. okay then,” she nods slowly. Are all the crew members aware of her identity like this? “Please.. Just call me Azure. I don’t want to go by that name anymore,” the princess said, feeling sweat collecting in her palms.
The doctor’s expression smoothens, seeming to have just understood that she wanted to remove herself from her previous life completely. “Mm, alright then, miss Azure. You will be introduced to everyone else once you’ve recovered. For now, don’t worry about the trip. Focus on regaining your strength.”
Later, Yinxing provides the girl with a light meal. A soup of some kind with strings of eggs, presumably some Liyuen recipe. It was still cold in the room she was in, indicating that they were still somewhere up North, but it was a normal temperature for Azure compared to when she hid out in the snow for what felt like hours.
She carefully gets up from the bed, walking over to the mirror nearby. The whole room was way smaller than what she was used to, but it seemed well built and clean. She always thought a ship built from wood would have splinters everywhere, with creaky floors and damp walls that could be crushed through if you were to run into them at full speed. Yet the ship’s wood both looked and felt sturdy as she reached out to feel its sheen coating, which she had no idea what was. Curiously knocking on every surface her knuckles come into contact with, she stops upon reaching the mirror and looks at herself for the first time after two days.
Her dark, wavy hair was all frizzy, matted and dry, while the circles under her eyes took her aback. She had never looked so pale before, with lips peeling and devoid of colour. Her extravagant gowns have long since been replaced by a modest dress weaved from simple rags. At times, she wishes she could just warp her face into anything or anyone else. To never be recognized again knowing that anyone could hunt her down and force her to face the guilt of even considering a different reality.
Later at noon, Azure hesitantly opens her door a little bit, on the tips of her toes even when she was still inside the room, warily glancing side to side out the corridor. At the end of the hall was an opening out to the main deck, casting dark blues of the night sky all around. She wonders why they placed her so close to the surface and not some vacant room deeper below the ship.
She closes the door, then opens it back again. Pausing, she closes the door again, walking back towards the bed and staring at it. Her feet take her back to the doorknob again, and she looks out into the hallway thrice, before retreating back into the room.
She doesn’t know what to expect from the pirates. Of course, they were helping her escape, but she knows them to be rowdy and unruly men, proud and boisterous. It’s not like she had anything against them, it was just… new. Her mind swirls with constant doubt.
Fixing her hair and swallowing, she walks out and closes the door behind her carefully, feeling the need to sneak quietly for reasons she does not know of. She knew the doctor would show her around eventually, but she couldn't sit still. What would her mother think of her right now?
She follows the ambient starlight, the sound of waves growing louder coupled with an imperceptible sway that was now easier to notice. When the wind hits her face, she immediately looks up, eyes searching for the crow’s nest. She sees a pirate stationed up there, which makes a breath leave her chest. It was just like the books she would read, but she was still puzzled by how sailors even manage to get up there without fear of falling. She thinks she’d reach five steps up and immediately slip just by looking down. Overall, the deck was quite empty, and the only few people she sees are sitting around minding their own business.
Has she done the right thing by fleeing? She can’t turn back anymore, and it’s terrifying. Upon walking towards the rails and looking down at the dark seas far below, she suddenly wants to hurl out an inexplicable sickness apart from bodily condition. Azure then startles when she hears the source of a tranquil voice coming from behind her.
“A nestling departs.. above glints the sea of stars, whirlwinds still the heart,” the foreign voice muses.
Her throat runs dry when she turns around to see a light-haired man, dressed in a white, flowing, untucked blouse, and a large tricorne hat with a maple crest. She first notes the deep reds of his eyes, and the seemingly random red streak on the side of his hair. It all stands out like blood on the snow, and she gapes at him. Obviously, this was the captain, and she zeroes in on the blade sheathed against his hip.
“W-what?” she tilts her head. Back in the palace, her interactions and social circles consisted of people who were predictable and alike to her nature. Now venturing beyond, she finds herself unable to speak properly.
“Your distress is apparent. But of course, I didn’t expect you to have none at all,” the man says with a shrug of his shoulder, a calm smile on his lips.
“Oh. What were you saying just now?”
“It was a haiku. Just on the fly,” the man walks over to the railing beside her, looking out to the near-invisible horizon. “I am Kaedehara Kazuha, but you may address me as Kazuha. I am the captain of this fleet. You were passed out when we found you… It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says lightly.
Oh, that’s Inazuman poetry. “You can just come up with things like that in your head..?”
“We who travel the seas tend to drown our joys and sorrows alike with liquor and song. Poetry is in my nature,” he chuckles.
“Now, how should I address you?” he inquires, brow raised and a cup in hand.
The young lady’s shoulders subconsciously ease up. “You.. know my name though, don’t you?”
“Yes, but something tells me I should hear it from you,” he said invitingly.
She nods lightly, scratching her cheek. “You may call me Azure. Something similar to what I’ve read in a book about stones… I don’t know if that’s unusual,” she flushes a bit.
“It’s truly a unique pick. It is a fine crystal. I reckon someone on this ship possesses azurite among many other stones,” Kazuha grins, tipping his hat up to gaze at the sky.
“You don’t think it’s strange to lie about my name like this?” Azure’s shoulders curl into herself.
“It is no lie, if it speaks to the soul. The name you choose to carry has every right to be yours.”
I guess it is okay. I’m not being a fraud by doing this am I? “I see… You must’ve met all kinds of people before, right?”
“You’re right about that. If it’s being different you’re worried about, I can assure you that it doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be out of place. Certainly not on the Crux, at least.”
“Yeah, no.. I’m not too worried about that part.” She grips the ship’s gunwale, staring at her feet.
They sit in silence for a while, the captain looking relaxed as ever and leaning his weight against the rail. It was only her who felt awkward, who felt clueless with every second that passed by. She can’t help but feel like her age and inexperience with being alive is showing. Not in the act of breathing and surviving, but in the act of feeling complete.
After some hesitance, Azure spoke. “How do you…” pause, “navigate your way around the ocean?”
—Present Day
The archon was kind enough to make the trip to the northernmost regions of Liyue easy for Kunikuzushi. Truth be told, he has no idea how he was supposed to bring the princess back. Even just the journey made him feel uneasy. The outside world felt the same as a mirror maze. The pathway barriers feel invisible, yet you still hesitate to take the first step for fear of bashing your face into your own reflection.
Only a fool would carelessly pass through a mirage, easily leading to fatal misdirections. But of course, there were no mirrors or direct objects blocking the man’s path; It is only his mind anchoring him beneath the depths, all the way back to the dark halls of that prison.
The long trip was quite a hassle, with over three stops in order to get past mountainous terrains and land separated by oceans. In all the years he’s lived in this world, the only times he had roamed freely was when he was still in his youth. A stray vagabond. He wandered aimlessly in search of a name, anything to cling to and help him swallow the dread of meaninglessness. Perhaps he was doomed to live in servitude, one that is meant to bring humiliation and even more hopelessness. Yet when he thinks back to the nation that decided to discard him, only hate and a deep-seated, quiet envy arises. What use was the sky, if it merely sought to twinkle and taunt you with its unattainable stars?
During his wanderings back when he still lived in Inazuma, he often wiped out Fatui camps scattered around the wilderness for pleasure. He thought that they’d dull the rusty swords he would pick up from deceased bladesmiths at the time, but the increasing sharpness of his skills made up for it. He remembered having dried bloodstains on his dark clothing, having sat in a dark room within a ship taking convicts to Snezhnaya in cases of high-profile enemies. A long journey with no light, no food, a singular bottle of water, and cold metal kissing his skin. He’d slain so many of their kin, that he was awaiting his own execution.
Little did he know at that time, he was about to get roped into working with the same pests he was wiping out.
The wind gently caresses his hair as he places his first step on Yilong Wharf’s docks. He crossed through Fontainian waters to arrive at his current destination, and the clear spring-like cleanliness of his surroundings were a stark contrast from the sea-salt scents from before.
“Enjoy your stay at Chenyu Vale!” The men securing the ship onto the docks greet the group of passengers, including Kunikuzushi who blend well with the crowd.
The first thing he notes was the colour teal, and the pleasant warmth of the region’s weather on his skin. It’s been a lifetime since he had seen infrastructure that wasn’t desolately plain, and even more with the burst of colours all around. He passed a crimson coloured tree and only then did he let himself breathe easier. He passes the various street vendors, chatting with customers or neighbours freely and comfortably. Everything showcased cultural differences between warm and cold-climate-nations. He was no spring chicken, but even Inazuma City felt stiffer compared to Chenyu’s bustling yet homely atmosphere.
A little girl runs past him, and he is reminded of his task. The princess couldn’t have changed that much over two years, but the only memento he received from the Tsaritsa was a single photograph of Katarina on her twelfth birthday. The first time he had seen the young lady was presumably when she was just five years of age. A tiny, fragile little thing, visibly pampered and plump as she was equally sheltered. While her mother was carrying her, the princess’ eyes were concealed by a thick veil when he had first pledged his loyalty to the Tsaritsa, kneeling down on one knee and a fist on his chest as he agreed to become her executioner. The blood on his hands were not for the child’s innocent eyes. He was dirty, sinful, and is meant to remain locked away to continue carrying out his purpose.
Yet still, he was called to wash his hands and wring the blood out dry, being made to stand before the child once again when she reached ten. That second time he stood before her, her eyes were no longer concealed. It was then him, who had to conceal his true nature, whilst still maintaining the expected nurturing he was meant to provide for someone else’s daughter. A mentor by day, and a murderer by night. He was tasked to provide something he had never received. As laughable as it was to him, he would sometimes look upon her blinking eyes and see a reflection of his own past self staring back at him.
In the last memory he has of training princess Katarina, he remembers her coldly slamming her own wooden sword to the ground, managing to break it and walking off without a word. He doesn't remember why, or if he had said anything that may have upset her— but he had never before seen such deep misery in another person’s eyes apart from himself, let alone from someone so young. The cold look on the girl’s face was different from the dread he’d find in his prisoners, but it was dread nonetheless… One he couldn’t put his finger on. Right up until Katarina actually ran away from home.
He then understood after a while that she just felt trapped. It makes him scoff regardless.
He was still a long ways away from Liyue Harbor, so he wasted no time in following the route marked on his map. Kunikuzushi ignores the pitching vendors and starts his journey on foot. He couldn’t deny the abundant beauty within the surrounding nature, naturally embedded throughout the region. However, he’s lost his tastebuds for indulging in such pleasures.
The walk to Qiaoying Village was a blur, but he made it.
His throat was quite dry by then, so he decided to stop by a humble family-owned teahouse. After all, Chenyu was known for their agriculture on tea leaves. It wouldn’t hurt to soothe his throat with what was admittedly his favourite beverage.
“You should try our adeptea leaves… the springwater here is unlike any other!” the old woman serving eagerly invites him in. She was of shorter stature than him, but it was due to her hunched posture, and her eyes had permanent smiling wrinkles that were sunk deeply into her skin. He supposes that she doesn’t get many non-local visitors often. Though he possessed sharp eyes like the Liyuen people, it was obvious that Kunikuzushi was not from around here due to his clothing.
“Are they bitter, ma’am?” He allows her to pull him inside by the hand, her touch surprisingly uninvasive. He can’t help the weird feeling in his throat once she lets go, and he clears it with a subdued cough.
“Depends on the brew, but I can easily sweeten it to your tastes,” she walks around to go behind the counter where the kitchen was on display, grabbing sachets and preparing a kettle.
“No need. I like it bitter.”
Since he was only going to rest for a short amount of time, he decided to sit at the very end of the counter bar next to the wall. The teahouse was relatively small but still had a roof over its head and was open to the outdoors. Everything in this culture felt open and welcoming to anyone on the streets. He thinks it’s a big mistake, considering that this old lady now had a cold-blooded killer sitting right at her tables.
He is served with an earnest smile, and does not bother blowing off the steam coming from his cup. When the old lady looks away, he drinks the boiling hot tea, letting it burn his tongue without batting an eye.
It is only when he is sitting and resting that he thinks back on just how dreadful this mission really was. Curse the damn gods. Who even decided that they get so much authority?
He sips his tea again, when the old lady lights up in surprise and looks towards something, or someone behind him. “Oh my! Mr. Akahito! You’re back in Liyue?”
Kunikuzushi glances to the side as a man dressed in a simple kimono approaches the front counter. He narrows his eyes at him, face hidden behind his teacup. He doesn’t know how common it is to meet other Inazumans abroad, but it would be quite the coincidence if it weren’t.
“I am, Miss Hua. I thought I should stop by,” said the aforementioned Akahito. His smooth voice cuts in through the serene silence caused by wind chimes hanging off the roof just outside, but it was a perfectly complementary colour.
When the man reaches the front, their eyes meet, and Kunikuzushi feels himself tense, looking away instantly and just closing his eyes. The other man pulls out the seat that was one other stool away from him and pays him no mind.
“Oh guāiguāi, I am so delighted to see you. Did you travel all the way here from the city?” The shopkeeper croons over the man. “Forgive this old lady, but I have forgotten what tea you used to get!”
Akahito chuckles lightly, a melody merging with the breeze. “Don’t worry nǎinai, it’s been a long time since I’ve visited. I’ll take your white peony tea this time. And yes, I just came from the Harbor. I’ll be returning soon, but I wanted to explore here for the time being.”
“I see! All your other companions must be visiting their families then,” she replies, hands busy brewing another cup of tea for the newcomer.
”Indeed. I always take the time to wander around during long stops like these.”
”What about that young lady who usually comes here with you? Azure was it? Ah, one hasn’t seen her in ages… My son is around the same age! I am sure they would get along well…”
“I’m not sure she’d be interested in such things, madam,” he laughed knowingly. “But she is doing splendid. In fact, her swordsmanship has gotten sharper. It’s only a matter of time before I can let her wander out on her own too, but she’s a little afraid to take the first step right now. I’ve left her to rest at an inn.”
Kunikuzushi tunes out of their little catch-up conversation and idly swirls his cup while glancing at the man from the side. He was pale everywhere apart from his sunkissed skin to say the least. His kimono was white, his hair was white, his teeth were white, and the bandages on his hands were white. He was picture perfect ivory, carrying a humble simplicity that blended well with the environment. The rasp of his voice was sweet, and even his choice of white tea was the cherry on top. Kunikuzushi decides that he detests the man’s taste in tea.
He only snaps back into the social sphere when the old woman asks him if he wanted another refill. Honestly, the tea was really good.
“Sure,” he says, giving his cup to her. He crosses his arms and closes his eyes as he waits, feeling the curious stares of the man sitting parallel to him.
She gives back his newly refilled cup, “Here you go... what is your name young man?”
Kunikuzushi bats an eye open, taken aback by the question. “Hm?” He unravels his arms. He hasn’t yet decided if he should tell the truth when it comes to his identity. He was far from known, a complete nobody from another land.. but it wouldn’t pay to act rashly. “You can call me Kuni. Thank you,” he takes the cup.
”How lovely, of course, Kuni! I am glad you’re enjoying it. Tea is our pride and joy,” she laughs. She retreats somewhere into her shop, murmuring something about feeding their family’s cats, now leaving him and the white haired traveller alone.
”Kuni… you have an interesting name.” The other man muses. “Are you perhaps from Inazuma?”
Kunikuzushi sighs internally, sipping from his cup. “…You could say that. Not really.”
”Oh? Why do you say that?”
“A reason you are not privy to,” he replies.
The man dips his head with a benign chuckle, “ah, my apologies. But you’re new around here?”
“Yes.”
“It’s beautiful isn’t it? Everything is so verdant. It’s like stepping into an entirely different world. It’s similar to Sumeru’s rainforests, but also entirely different,” he stirs his filthy floral tea, not taking his eyes off Kuni.
“I have not seen Sumeru.”
The man nods, “you should go someday, if you’re travelling to experience sights. There is something precious about each square of land we set foot in. Every tree and blade of grass is attuned to the seasons, while the sands of the desert and sea hold stories that are dear to time,” he takes a swig of his tea.
Kunikuzushi scoffs quietly as the man downs his tea like it was alcohol. Who does that? Maybe vikings, barbarians, and pirates, if they even drank tea. Yet this man was dressed like a wandering vagabond, or even a lowly apothecary sent out to pick herbs. “I don’t have time for such redundant and superfluous hobbies.”
The snow-haired man laughs at that. “Well then, why are you sitting here at a random tea shop?”
”Can’t a man get a drink before resuming a job?” He bites back in annoyance.
”True, true,” The other puts his elbow on the counter and turns to face him with an easy-going smirk. “But I’d say there’s tons more to learn from ‘redundant’ hobbies than completing tasks and work all the time.”
It is only then that Kunikuzushi notices the red streak jutting out the side of the man’s hair in tufts, right alongside his ruby eyes. He stares for a while, before realizing that the other was awaiting a response.
Kunikuzushi raises a brow, “oh yeah? Nothing more than enlightenment for your own soul that most people will never accomplish in one human lifetime.”
“Why enlightenment is truly a rare feat which makes it all the more precious, but I don’t think it has to be so difficult. Perhaps there would be more peace in the world if people could find what satisfies their soul’s appetites,” the other tilts his head, still wearing a smile on his lips.
”Hah, yet that’s not how the world works is it? Who cares about knowing thyself when you cannot obtain that which you seek?” He retorts.
The other man’s grin only widens at the corners, which serve to irritate Kunikuzushi a bit more. “But through knowing oneself is also how one may realize their place in the world. Perhaps you do not actually need the unobtainable, and the heart beats for what is already in existence. You need only to find it.”
“That’s just wishful thinking. Those who have lost everything or have never owned anything find themselves in a constant loop of dissatisfaction when trying to find whatever it is they need. Humans don’t even have all the time in the world. Rather than wallowing in such a dreadful fate, it’s better to put the body to good use and move to serve a proper cause.”
“And does this ‘proper cause’ serve well for the shackled heart?” The man asks, expression unmoved by his pessimistic words of choice.
Kunikuzushi scoffs. “Who is to say it doesn’t?”
“Fair. I suppose everyone finds different forms of fulfilment. Still, I believe that the limited time we have in this world is worth exploring to further our horizons,” he smiles at him. “Your beaming sense of duty displays… charity. My name is Akahito, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
The comment about charity made Kunikuzushi want to snort. If only this bundle of harmony knew about the amount of throats he had slit before. “I know, I heard the lady.”
“It’s not everyday I get to talk to someone so unabashedly interesting in a short amount of time. Especially not someone like you abroad from a similar homeland. Our meeting feels like fate.” Akahito glints.
”That’s a bit personal for something so fleeting, don’t you think? You romanticize too much. What are you, a poet?”
Akahito shrugs, ”perhaps, perhaps.. But what’s the harm in that? I can be many things, my friend.”
Their conversation is cut short there when the tea house owner comes back to chat with Akahito a bit more.
Kunikuzushi had no interest in whatever strangers had to talk about, so he wordlessly stood up and raised a hand to silently thank the old woman before setting off again. He could feel Akahito’s eyes following him as he left. If Akahito was heading back to the harbour and they were to end up at the same place eventually, Kunikuzushi might as well get a head start.
Kunikuzushi had a strange feeling that this wouldn’t be their last meeting.