Work Text:
ganyu doesn’t remember the faces of whom she has served for the past four thousand years,
yet a particular shade of purple haunts her everyday.
she doesn’t know why, but it was so pleasant — yet so painful.
everyday, she hears it urging her to stop procrastinating when she stops in her tracks, hears it telling her that she matters,
hears it telling her not to forget.
but what is there to forget when ganyu has already forgotten?
she does not remember the owner of that shade of purple, yet it brings her so much happiness and so much grief. she does not know why, but she basks in the comfort it brings her.
ganyu knows she used to love that particular shade of purple — no, the owner of that particular shade of purple.
yet she does not remember.
time had eroded her memories of the owner of that shade of purple. she knows she should have remembered, and that very thought haunts her.
ganyu breaks down. she tries her best to remember, yet nothing comes to mind. she sobs, apologising repeatedly to the owner of that particular shade of purple.
she does not receive an answer.
-
the voice continues reminding her to not procrastinate, and to live life to the fullest.
until one day, it stops.
it stops talking to her, and the shade of purple stops showing up in her dreams.
she misses it; but time does not wait.
she stops crying at night; stops waiting to hear the voice.
bit by bit, she forgets, time eroding her memories yet again.
-
until one day, it shows up again.
the qixing had decided to ganyu out to guili plains to confirm a report about a fatui sighting.
the secretary agrees, and heads to the location.
halfway there, the voice returns.
this time, it is no longer reprimanding or relaxed. instead, it is worried, panicking.
“ganyu, don’t go. please. turn back!” the voice pleads.
the secretary is stunned,
but she does not listen.
she shrugs it off, thinking that it was just her head acting up.
but once she reached the venue, the secretary wishes she had listened to the voice’s warning. there were about fifty skirmishers and electrohammer vanguards in total stationed there.
one by one, they notice her presence.
and they charge.
an electro-charged hammer strikes the ground where the secretary used to be. ganyu leaps, leaving a single ice lotus behind, effectively stunning a few of the vanguards and skirmishers.
she panics, looking around for any means of escape as the fatui charge at her with bloodlust in their eyes.
the secretary manifests her bow.
if she wanted to leave alive, she knew she would have to kill.
and she did just that.
ganyu fires cryo-charged arrows at the vanguards, striking their vitals with precision.
she continues, until there is only one left.
the secretary fires her remaining arrow, killing the remaining skirmisher.
or so she thought she did.
in a matter of seconds, ganyu heard a bullet being fired towards her direction.
the secretary attempted to turn around and kill whoever fired that bullet, bow still in hand.
but she was a second too late.
the bullet pierces through her flesh and into her heart.
ganyu stops in her tracks for a moment, then she collapses.
she hears a group of skirmishers laughing, then a loud ringing in her ears.
the secretary blinks once. twice. tears start to well up in her dimming eyes as she coughs.
she failed.
she failed the qixing,
she failed the voice,
she failed keqing.
at last, the secretary remembers. she remembers how keqing would reprimand her for napping during work, she remembers how keqing would shower her with compliments,
she remembers how keqing loved her.
and finally, ganyu takes her last breath. the cryo vision hanging on the side of her waist had lost its usual bright glow, now dark and devoid of colour.
-
ganyu opens her eyes, only to meet purple ones.
she immediately recognises those purple orbs. those particular shade of purple orbs.
she shoots up from her position, only to see the owner of those orbs staring at her.
“keqing—” ganyu begins, but keqing raises her hand, effectively silencing the secretary.
keqing sighs. she walks towards the stunned secretary, disappointment and hurt etched into her features. keqing stops right in front of ganyu, kneeling down to face her.
the secretary looks away.
keqing lets out another sigh. she brings her hand up to stroke the half-qilin’s cheek, her eyes softening at how ganyu automatically leaned into her touch.
“yuyu, how you could you have forgotten?” keqing murmured. ganyu immediately raises her head to face keqing.
sunset eyes meet amethyst ones.
ganyu could tell that keqing was hurt — disappointed, even.
she stays quiet. an apology would never be enough, and she knew that.
not after she had forgotten about the person she had loved most twice.
not after she had forgotten about their promise.