Work Text:
The train rumbles along the track, pushing ever forward toward its destination. Passengers mill about the car, attending to their own business without fanfare, so Xiao is thankful for the relative quiet. He is comfortably seated in the back corner of the train car, flush against the window. It’s been several hours since the train departed. The rural towns of the Ganghua border have since given way to stretches of large open fields, a never-ending blur of green speckled with the occasional barn or home. Xiao may have found the scene mesmerizing (even relaxing) if he didn’t have more pressing things on his mind.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Xiao?” Zhongli had asked as they approached Madam Ping’s office. “You understand I will support you no matter your decision? This agency is your home regardless of your assignment.”
Xiao nodded. He understood the sincerity of Zhongli’s words; however, that sincerity would not quell the raging anxiety that coursed through his body.
Zhongli took the liberty of knocking on the thick wooden door, which promptly opened of its own accord.
Despite her small, elderly frame, Madam Ping held a commanding presence sitting behind her desk. When Xiao had first met her, he had wondered why a grandma was allowed to run one of the most powerful agencies in the world. It only took a few months of being under her leadership for him to see exactly why she held the role.
“Mister Zhongli and Xiao, thank you for stopping by,” she said with a smile. “Can I interest you two in some tea?”
“That won’t be necessary, but perhaps some other time,” Zhongli replied succinctly, taking a seat at one of the two chairs in front of Madam Ping’s desk. Xiao nods, agreeing with Zhongli, and takes his seat at the remaining chair.
“I see.” In the blink of an eye, the face of the cordial old woman is replaced with one of a seasoned leader, all too ready to get right to business. “I’ve called you here today because I have an assignment that I think would be a good fit for Xiao,” she begins. “We have reason to believe there is a terrorist group soon to be in possession of a miasma-powered bomb.”
Xiao leans forward in response. Miasma bombs have been unheard of since the war; their destructive capabilities were the stuff of nightmares.
“We don’t know their exact purpose yet, but regardless it is a matter of public security that they are investigated and apprehended. Based on the intelligence we have received we have reason to believe that they are utilizing posts in Ganghua and Dawnstead to accomplish their goal.”
“So Dawnstead is involved too,” Zhongli commented, putting his hand to his chin. Xiao could see the gears in his head turning, sorting through his seemingly limitless knowledge for relevant details. “This is most alarming indeed. However...” Zhongli's eyes darted up to lock with Madam Ping’s. “I have yet to see why Xiao is an ideal candidate for this role.”
Madam Ping’s face seemed to ever so slightly soften. “Xiao is among our best covert operatives. His miasma abilities make him ideal for this assignment. That being said” —she turned to look at Xiao, her eyes serious— “it is Xiao’s assignment to take. I will not force him into anything against his will. I just ask that he consider the circumstances.”
The room went silent. The ticking of the wall clock sounded like rhythmic booming thunder. All the while, Xiao could feel the way Zhongli and Madam Ping's eyes bore into him, waiting for some indication of his intentions. Xiao sighed as he gripped the bracelet on his right hand. The brass was cool to the touch, and he felt the faint thrum of the miniature gears turning within. He visualized the miasma reaching in long streams to Zhongli and Madam Ping, and as he did he only conveyed a single thought:
“ I’ll do it. ”
Zhongli had been skeptical of his decision up until the day of his departure. He had questions about whether Xiao felt pressured and had taken Xiao aside to remind him that the fate of Ganghua was not on his shoulders; that he didn’t owe Madam Ping, this agency, or this nation anything. “You have no debt to repay,” he kept saying, to which Xiao could only scoff.
If only it was that simple.
Small clusters of houses now dot the landscape, the land evolving as the train inches closer to the city. It’s enough indication for passengers to gather their things, shuffling about noisily as they do so.
Then suddenly the train car is plunged into darkness as it enters a tunnel. Xiao can feel the current of the miasma powering the sparse light underground.
Miasma and darkness.
The dissonance between the feeling under his skin and nothingness surrounding him.
Figures cast in shadow, barely visible.
“Shhh they’ll hear you…”
The train emerges from the tunnel, and the change of light startles Xiao from his memories with a gasp. He presses his left hand to his chest, and stares at his right hand, eyes slowly scanning from his fingertips down to the brass band on his wrist. With a sigh of relief, he centers himself in the breathing techniques Zhongli taught him as the train pulls into the station.
The station is bustling with far more people than Xiao has ever encountered, and it takes most of his discipline to stop himself from channeling miasma and phasing through the crowd.
Luckily, his contact is right where he is supposed to be.
He settles on a bench outside the station next to a boy wearing a blue suit and newsboy cap. If the young man minded his presence, he shows no sign of being bothered, still engrossed in his book.
He uses the miasma to reach out. “Xingqiu.”
Xingqiu stiffens slightly before settling back into his reading position.
Xiao frowns “ XINGQIU.”
“Alright, alright. Would it really be so much of a bother for me to finish this chapter first? I am at the climax, you know,” Xingqiu says exasperated, but finally paying attention.
Xiao makes an effort to look as annoyed as possible.
Xingqiu sighs “I see. I will take that as a no.”
He closes his book, placing it gently on his lap before gazing out across the street. “If I may be so bold, I am surprised to see you outside of Ganghua. What convinced you to step outside the border?”
After a few moments of silence, his eyes flick over to Xiao, but Xiao doesn’t humor him. Xingqiu doesn’t need to know those details.
“Let’s move.”
“Ah, well, I should have known by now you aren’t one for small talk.” Xingqiu stands up, dusting off his pants before turning his back to Xiao. “Follow me quickly.”
Xingqiu is surprisingly fast for his small stature, and keeps Xiao on his toes bobbing and weaving through the crowd. In a few instances, Xiao swears he can even see the kid smirking . After several minutes, they stop in front of a building tucked along a side street. There is no sign indicating the type of establishment, but Xiao can see rows and rows of bookshelves through the window at the top of the door.
“ This is the place? You didn’t just take us on a detour to the bookstore?”
“Mr. Xiao, you really should have more faith in me. As much as I would love to get back to reading my novel, I know there is a time and a place for everything. Just remember the phrase ‘to separate air from fog.’”
“What are you tal-”
Xingqiu clears his throat and raps on the door with a series of timed knocks before opening it.
The walls of the shop are lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. In another setting, such shelves might have been intimidating, but the way they barely fit in the space gives the shop a cozy feel. Several large tables feature piles of books pushed to the center. Some of the empty chairs have an open book in front of them, as if someone got distracted in the middle of reading.
Xiao is still taking stock of his surroundings as he follows Xingqiu towards the back of the shop. Hiding behind a stack of books, a young man with fluffy blonde hair appears, hunched over a piece of paper on a desk in the right corner. He initially looks like he is writing, but as Xiao gets closer, he realizes the young man is actually drawing.
Xingqiu clears his throat and the young man looks up. “Oh, my apologies. I let you in but was promptly distracted.”
“That’s quite alright,” Xingqiu says, turning to Xiao. “Xiao, this is Albedo. He is a member of Dawnstead branch of the Miasma Investigation Coalition.”
Albedo regards Xiao curiously. His eyes scan Xiao up and down, pondering for just a moment before all the uncertainty leaves his face. “It’s my pleasure.”
“We are here for Xiao’s necessities.” Xingqiu continues.
“Of course. To what end do you need this for?”
Xiao thinks it is bizarre that a member of the organization would need such basic information, but without hesitation Xingqiu replies, “To breathe the air you breathe.”
Albedo nods and produces a small leather satchel from one of the desk drawers. Xiao reaches for it, but Albedo grabs his wrist.
“Xingqiu may have verified his identity, but you have not.” Albedo’s eyes narrow, and his previous calm nature is replaced by a far more dangerous one.
“Mr. Albedo,” Xingqiu says evenly, recognizing the mistrust in Albedo’s gaze, “my companion chooses to live by his own creed of silence. He is a capable operative and trusted by our agency...”
“And what do you have to verify this?”
Xingqiu rolls up his right sleeve, revealing a bracelet identical to Xiao’s. “All members of the Ganghua branch wear this bracelet. Our leader designed and infused it with her miasma abilities so Xiao can communicate with us. Given the nature of our powers, it would be impossible to fabricate the abilities of such a device. Certainly, an inventor of your caliber should be able to see that I am telling the truth.”
Albedo shifts his grip to further up Xiao’s forearm. He stares at the bracelet with intent, and his eyes begin to glow with a faint gold light. After a few moments, his eyes turn to Xingqiu with his brow furrowed in scrutiny. Suddenly, Albedo relaxes; the light in his eyes slowly dims.
“Indeed, the composition of your bracelets line up with that of a miasma user. It appears your leader is skilled in telepathy and telekinesis.” He states the fact calmly, as if he wasn’t suspicious of Xiao and Xingqiu minutes ago.
“You figured that out just by looking at a device she built?” Xingqiu asks, eyes wide in wonder.
Albedo nods. “In the end, the only thing that separates miasma users from other humans is the ability to channel the magical properties in the air through their own bodies. How those magic particles are manipulated is unique to each person, like a fingerprint. So it stands to reason that your leader left a ‘miasma print’ on both your devices. However, without my abilities it would have been difficult to detect her print without completely disassembling the device.” Albedo pauses briefly before his eyes spark with newfound interest. “You wouldn’t happen to have extra bracelets, would you? If I could disassemble one I might be able to—”
“Well, I don’t think that would be possible anytime soon,” Xingqiu interrupts in an obviously hurried tone, “but I’m sure you’ll be able to construct it yourself.”
Albedo lets out a sigh of defeat. “I suppose that is true, though samples always make the job easier.”
Xiao can feel the conversation slipping away from him, so he grabs the satchel off the desk. A quick scan of the contents reveals several dossiers, a forged Dawnstead resident card, and a small piece of paper with an address.
“Oh, it seems you’ll need these too.” Albedo rifles around the desk, pulling out a large memo pad, a small note pad, and several pencils. “You won’t be able to communicate via miasma here in Dawnstead. It’s not the most elegant solution, but it will serve you fine.”
Xiao nods, putting the materials in the satchel while silently scolding himself for becoming too accustomed to miasma communication.
“If you go to the designated location, there should be a posting for an apartment there where you should be able to situate yourself. Given the nature of your mission, it would be best if you stayed outside of headquarters.”
To minimize risks to others, Xiao thinks.
With a final nod to Albedo, Xiao turns to Xingqiu. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Alright, you know how to find me. Good luck!”
Albedo and Xingqiu send him off with a slight wave as the door closes with a chime behind him.
A few hours later, Xiao arrives at a tiny building in the northern part of Dawnstead. After investigating several postings only to find they had been filled, this was the last stop. If he couldn’t find a room here, then he would probably have to make himself at home on a roof somewhere. Certainly not the worst conditions he’s experienced, but the chill of autumn nights makes the prospect far less desirable.
A young woman is standing at the desk next to the stairs and greets Xiao with a smile “Hello, how may I help you?”
Xiao flips open his notebook.
I’m here about the room.
The woman looks quizzically at the notebook with a furrowed brow before she shrugs and continues, “Ah, you saw the posting. It’s not in the best shape, but rent is 500 gold a month if you are interested.”
Xiao quickly writes his response.
That’s fine.
A bag of gold and a few nondescript signatures later, Xiao has the key to his room. He drags himself upstairs, feeling drained after interacting with more people today than he normally would in a month.
He just wants to be truly alone for a bit.
Xiao unlocks the front door and finds that the room is about what he expected. There is peeling wallpaper and the floor looks like it hasn’t ever been cleaned. A pile of clothes is stacked on a chair in what he supposes is the living room. The kitchen looks equally filthy.
It doesn’t bother him, not really, until he hears a loud crash from behind the closed door to the right of the kitchen.
Xiao’s guard is up instantly. He whips out the knife from his pack, where it had been flush to his back all day, and approaches the door while staying pressed against the wall. He starts planning escape routes: jumping out the kitchen window or climbing up to the roof. The shuffling behind the door increases and Xiao grips the knife tighter. He can feel himself drawing upon miasma, and it sits bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be released.
The door finally cracks open and a disheveled-looking young man sticks his head out. His black hair is flat on one side and sticking up on the other. The two braids framing his face are mostly undone. His night clothes are newly wrinkled from sleep.
Xiao releases the tension in his shoulders and sheathes his knife, but he doesn’t move. He was renting this room, wasn’t he? Was this the former renter who refused to leave?
A previously unknown squatter who just got caught?
Unless…
“Oh, so you're my new roommate,” the man says with a yawn.
This was the one variable Xiao never considered. Surely a listing that says “one bedroom available” meant “one bedroom apartment?” Why would there be a difference?
Maybe he could just go onto a roof somewhere…
As if the heavens had heard his plans, a thundering crack echoed outside the window of the apartment, quickly followed by heavy rain.
Well shit.
The young man, his “roommate,” was now plodding around the living room picking up clothes to throw into the pile. “Sorry I didn’t clean up. I uh, wasn’t expecting anybody, ehe.”
He finishes stacking the clothes into a pile with a satisfied grin “There! That’s good enough…for now.” He whirls around to face Xiao. “Name’s Venti, what’s yours?”
It’s unbelievable to Xiao that someone would be so casual in front of the person who, until a few minutes ago, was poised with a knife outside his door.
“Aww, come on, cat got your tongue?” Venti teases, coming closer. “I know my music can make people speechless, but I didn’t know talking would have the same effect.”
The audacity of this man.
Xiao grabs the notepad from his pocket. He grips the pencil so tightly, his first line rips through the page.
My name is Xiao.
“Xiao, huh? You don’t talk?”
Yes.
“Oh.” Venti seems taken aback by that. His confident expression softens. “That’s okay I’ll talk enough for the both of us!”
The idea of having a stranger speak for him is enough to make Xiao internally grimace. However, Xiao knows better than to pick fights with strangers over simple comments. He just needs to get in his room and try to minimize his interaction with this person as much as possible.
Xiao nods and walks over to grab the things he dropped by the door. Much to his dismay, Venti follows.
“So Xiao, what are you doing here in Dawnstead, eh?”
Xiao shrugs before remembering the fake business card in the satchel. He robotically hands one to Venti. “Oh, event photography, cool! I’m doing a music thing. People call me a ‘freelance musician.’ But honestly, I’m just a one night act at your favorite bar.”
They are in Xiao’s bedroom now. The whole place is covered in a layer of dust. Xiao places his belongings on the bed, which squeaks under the additional weight. Suddenly, the rain-soaked rooftop is not looking so bad.
Venti keeps looking at him expectantly, and seeing that he is in this situation now, he might as well get as much intel and he can.
Music?
“Yeah I play a bunch of instruments! Lyre, flute, harp - I even dabble in accordion on a good night!”
So what are you doing here? Xiao’s mind unhelpfully supplies. He is far outside his element, but something deep in his gut tells him not to broach the subject.
He decides to ignore his lingering questions (and by extension Venti) and continue to unpack his clothes on the bed. He would need to wait until Venti leaves to truly get situated. He needs to secure his room, too. Can he even lock his door? He would need ch-
“Here let me help.” Venti’s voice cuts through his thoughts as Venti reaches for the satchel.
Xiao snatches the bag out of Venti’s reach, slinging it over his shoulder with a huff. He stares at a gobsmacked Venti, frustration and adrenaline running through him.
Then, of all things, Venti lets out a laugh, devoid of all his previous optimism.
“Well, if you didn’t want me touching your stuff you could have just sa-” The words seem to die in Venti’s throat.
Xiao has never seen a person flounder at his expense. Venti suddenly looks incredibly...lost.
After a long silence, Venti turns around and walks evenly towards the door. "Well," he says quietly, facing him with one foot in the hallway. "I'll get out of your hair now." With that, he closes the door behind him.