Chapter Text
Lumine and Paimon frequented the oldest antique store in east Fontaine. It began with trying out the exquisite weapons and artifacts that non-travelers wouldn’t see the value of. Weeks later, they ended up getting their hands on tertiary items that might not even be useful for their journey. There were painted ceramic water cans, vintage combs, and even pawned jewelry that never met their owners again and got sold for half the price. Although they hadn’t been here for long, the hub of arts and culture must have influenced them into appreciating more craftworks.
“Oh, my! Will you take a look at this?” Paimon showed a bookmark that she picked from one of the tall shelves at the back of the two-story store. The shopkeepers had known them well and believed that they wouldn’t steal a thing, so nobody ever kept watch on them whenever they idled around.
Lumine took the bookmark and scrunched her nose up a tad. Glued onto the thin wood was a dried Qingxin flower, a specialty of Liyue that could only be found on the scenic land’s highest peaks. She hadn’t seen one for more than six months—that was the time that had passed since she left the region. The color had turned beige, but as if it was yesterday, she could picture how it looked like when it was newly-plucked; petals as white as the morning cloud, bright yellow pistil that complemented the overall appearance, and sturdy thornless stem.
“It reminds you of him, doesn’t it?” Paimon asked.
“Well…” Lumine couldn’t bring herself to answer as she handed the bookmark back to Paimon. “We’ve been here for half an hour. Is there anything you want to buy? If not, then we should get dinner. I’m starving,” she quickly changed the topic.
Paimon lifted the bookmark in her hand. “Can I get this? But I hope it isn’t too expensive.”
“It’s just a piece of flower slapped onto a piece of wood, so why would it be expensive? It wasn’t that difficult for us to find Qingxin flowers back then.”
“Oh?” Paimon beamed with delight. “I’m glad you haven’t forgotten us looking for them on the mountaintops, but still, there aren’t many of them.”
“You love reading, so the bookmark should be beneficial to you.” Once again, Lumine refused to respond accordingly. Paimon’s constant smile was one annoying evidence that she knew exactly what Lumine was doing.
“You’re the best! Thank you!” Paimon looked overjoyed with the approval as she immediately flew to the female clerk near the entrance. As the person carrying their money, Lumine hurriedly walked after her. It indeed wasn’t the cheapest bookmark they could get since Qingxin flowers had always been exorbitant, but it would cost them more if they were to buy the materials from florists and make it themselves.
After finishing their transaction, they left the store and joined the sea of people in the narrow street that could barely fit five adults in a row. Compared to the previous regions they had scoured, there were far too many wayfarers in Fontaine’s capital city, be it on the big roads or alleyways. The people weren’t as nice either, but it wasn’t because they didn’t care about helping strangers. Sometimes their minds were just too busy planning their weekend around the next famous opera or sculpture exhibition.
The first time the duo visited the nation built above the water and surrounded by it, they were astounded by how brooding everything was. Coal-powered factories covered most of the land and polluted the air, preventing anyone from enjoying the stars. Many times a day, a loud airship would overrun the sky. Even the soldiers wore black suits that made them appear more like assassins than citizens’ protectors. Although the entertainments were splendid, they agreed to yearn for the tranquility given by a calmer place like Mondstadt.
“Hey, Lumine. I wonder if you still miss him,” Paimon asked once they reached a more spacious area where they could speak without getting disturbed by the sounds of footsteps and shoulders bumping against one another.
“Who?” Lumine asked.
“Come on, you know who I’m talking about!” Paimon shouted. “I’m sorry for bringing him up before at the store, and well, also now, but your eyes looked so woeful when I did. I just thought that after half a year, you would be over him.”
“I hadn’t thought of him in a while until you mentioned him.”
“Is that a ‘yes’ to you missing him?”
“I’m not going to answer. Stop talking about him.”
“But Lumine, will it kill you to visit Liyue?” Ignoring Lumine’s request, Paimon continued. “Don’t you want to taste Xiangling’s food again? How about strolling around Qingce Village and chattering with the sellers at the harbor? I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you again, even him.”
Lumine sighed as she stopped moving her feet and glared at Paimon. “You’re being mean, Paimon. I said, stop talking about him.”
The angry tone startled Paimon, but the next second, the tiny girl pouted as if she mourned the passing of a close friend. “I’m sorry. I just…” she paused for a moment as her voice trembled. “I wish it hadn’t ended that way. So many words were left unspoken, and I know you haven’t been okay with everything…”
Lumine gave zero replies as she turned around and continued walking, but her chest began hurting. In her head, the landscape around her gradually changed. The symmetrical pavement turned into dusty soil that would dirty her boots, but she could easily clean them in the rivers that flowed endlessly through the vast wilderness. The skyscrapers collided into the towering inn of Dihua Marsh; she always wondered if the people there were truly people or immortals who tried to hide their identities yet found it amusing to give out some small hints about them to make fun of humans.
Looking up, the evening sky lost its industrial smoke and unfolded the deepest hue of amber. When she went ahead a bit more, the straight steel bridges curved into wooden ones with reeds that grew from the water underneath instead of some suffocating dead-end tunnels. The lampposts brightening the busy lanes were no more as they became lanterns hung on natural bamboo sticks. Suddenly, she was in Liyue again, feeling the lovely wind against her cheeks.
Reverie surely was a funny thing because at the end of the street stood a tall man who wore a long brown coat with a ponytail that reached his waist. His face was a blur, but his warm smile that was often mixed with inexplicable misery was one of a kind that she would never mistake for somebody else. It reminds you of me, doesn’t it? His question came as a shock. Be honest to yourself, Lumine. You miss me. Ever since you left, all that is around has reminded you of me. Isn’t it pitiful? Hundreds of people you’ve met, yet you offer your heart to the wrong person.
Lumine was frozen in place, but instead of feeling downcast, her mind recalled all the moments they had shared together. The days they spent judging the strangest objects in Liyue Harbor and eating at the hidden kiosks in the villages that not even the food lovers knew about, the boulder under a red maple tree they sat on by the river north to Mount Aozang, the local singers he couldn’t stop recommending, his handsome face whenever he told her stories about the world before everyone else was born—their bond was short-lived, but it would always bring her to tears.
As the mystical beauty of Liyue shattered back into blocks of black and white buildings, she was sure of one thing; she wouldn’t go back to meet him, but if by chance they were to reunite once again, she would know what to do. Only if it was allowed, she would lay her head on his chest, hold his hand, perhaps cry a little, and tell him softly, I’m sorry for running away that day. I’ve missed you so much that the best thing I do lately is trying not to lose my mind.