Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Happy birthday, Kazuha!” 

Kazuha opened his eyes in a flurry, sitting up with a jolt. At first, he assumed they were being attacked. He instinctively got ready to draw his sword, his senses on high alert, before he relaxed, realizing that there was no danger to be found. 

Kazuha stifled a sigh, rubbing tiredly at his face. What time was it? Judging from how groggy he felt, he assumed it was quite early. He wanted to groan and slip back underneath his covers, but that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Beidou’s grinning face peered down at him, and Kazuha managed to smile. When she looked at him so happily, it was hard to be frustrated with her. Even though Kazuha was a person who valued his rest quite highly, he could tolerate it being interrupted by those he cared for. 

“Good morning to you too, Captain,” he murmured, stretching dramatically. He arched his back, similar to a cat, and Beidou beamed, slinging an arm around him. She pulled him into a hug, and Kazuha was powerless to stop her, an ‘oof’ escaping him as he was very nearly crushed by her. 

“Not just a good morning — a great morning!” She exclaimed. “We’re going to party!” 

“The sun has barely risen yet, and you wish to throw a celebration? What for?” Kazuha mumbled, and Beidou looked down at him as if he’d grown two heads. “Your birthday, of course!” She retorted, as if it were obvious, which Kazuha supposed it was.

“Ah. But I don’t need any celebrations.” Kazuha shook his head gently. “Really. I’m fine with just relaxing and treating the day as I normally would. There’s no need—”

“Nope!” Beidou cut him off, shaking him by the shoulders. The boy was jostled around, and Kazuha felt himself growing dizzy as Beidou pulled him about, shaking some well-needed sense into him. “None of that!” Beidou laughed. “We’re celebrating, whether you like it or not!” 

Kazuha frowned, brushing his disheveled bangs from his eyes. “. . . I’ve just woken up,” he relented. “Surely you could give me a moment?” He yawned. “I was having the most amazing dream, and you interrupted it. You will not apologize for such an atrocity, and on top of that, you’re jostling me about at such an hour. It’s scandalous.” 

Beidou looked amused at Kazuha’s attempt at humor, a booming laugh escaping her. Kazuha regarded his captain fondly, his gaze filled with thinly-veiled affection. 

Over the months they’d known each other, Beidou and Kazuha had managed to form a close bond. They had been with each other through thick and thin; Kazuha considered her one of his closest companions. Without her, after all, he’d probably be dead — a mere corpse at the bottom of the ocean, or perhaps washed up onto the shore. 

Beidou had saved him in more ways than one. Kazuha owed her his life. It was a debt he was still trying to repay, even though she insisted he didn’t need to. Nonetheless, Kazuha still felt indebted to her. She had done so much for him — surely, he should do an abundance of things for her in return. 

“What was the dream about?” Beidou asked, ruffling his hair playfully. Kazuha swatted her hand away lightly, an indignant huff escaping him. “I bet it was something weird,” Beidou went on, and Kazuha hummed idly. “Depends on what your definition of ‘weird’ is,” he retorted, much to her amusement. 

“I dreamed that I was sunbathing on the largest, warmest rock I’d ever seen, right beside the ocean.” Kazuha sighed longingly. It was something that appealed a lot to him. He wished he could be sunbathing right now.

He tactfully left out the part where in his dream, he was sunbathing with everyone he cared for.

A tall, blonde man with purple eyes and a small white cat. Beidou herself and the rest of the Crux fleet. A group of smiling faces hailing from the Kamisato estate. A cheerful brown-haired boy with dog ears and a tail, followed by an ethereal girl looking like she came from the ocean itself. A boy with long blonde hair styled into a braid, a flying fairy at his side. And last but not least, a boy with a fair face and dark hair wearing a strange, large hat. 

Yes . . . An amazing dream, Kazuha remarked to himself. 

“Ha!” Beidou snorted, shaking her head. “I shoulda known.” She tugged on Kazuha’s wrist. “Come on, sleeping beauty. Get ready, we’re hosting the biggest damn party you’ll ever see!” Her eyes glittered with excitement, and Kazuha found himself unable to refuse her. 

He rose from his bed, his pajamas slipping off his thin frame as he yawned for nearly the millionth time. “My apologies,” he muttered, covering his mouth with a hand. He couldn’t shake his polite nature. It was just ingrained in him to always maintain the best manners he possibly could, at all possible times.

“No need to apologize, kid.” Beidou clapped him on the back. “When you’re finished getting ready, the crew and I will be waiting for you on the deck!” She grinned at him, sending him a cheerful wave before leaving, whistling as she went. Kazuha watched the door shut behind her, smiling faintly. 

How had he gotten so lucky? 

Kazuha liked to think fate was kind to him, though it had its fair share of cruel moments. Kazuha didn’t know where he’d be without Beidou, but he couldn’t imagine it being anywhere pleasant. He was eternally grateful for her, and he wished he could properly express that. What could he do to show her just how much he appreciated her? 

Sometimes, Kazuha wrote her and the Crux fleet poems. He’d read them off with a light tone, and everyone would clap and applaud him and his work, but it never felt like enough. Kazuha would cook for everyone, preparing delicious meals nearly every night. He’d work as hard as he could, he’d follow every order given to him to the very end, yet he still didn’t feel like it was enough. 

He needed to do more. More and more. He couldn’t stop. He had to repay them for all they’d done for him. He had to show them that he wasn’t just using them. He had to show them how grateful he was, no matter what. He didn’t want to lose them. 

With the Crux, he’d built up a family. They were the strangest family he’d ever seen, but it was a family nonetheless, and Kazuha cherished everyone dearly. He didn’t know what he’d do if he ever found a day where the Crux fleet wasn’t there, waiting for him. 

They were always there for him. Always willing to wait for him, no matter what. Even if Kazuha had bad days, where he locked himself in his room for hours on end, where he’d go silent for weeks at a time — the fleet never judged him. They accommodated him, comforted him, provided him with a shoulder to lean on whenever he needed it.

It meant a lot to him. It really did. More than they knew. 

Sometimes, Kazuha wanted to cry. 

He was never an emotional person, not by a long shot. Emotions were something he struggled with. He was raised in a cold, unloving family. His parents were distant from him, like a far-off star he just couldn’t reach. They were so far up in the sky, so much higher and better than him — how could he ever hope to gain their attention?

He certainly tried. He sought out their approval, soaking up whatever bits and pieces of praise he could get, absorbing it all like a sponge. The only way he received his parents’ good favor was by faring well in his training. They only cared about him if he could prove to rise to greatness. If he ended up being an amazing samurai, then maybe they’d finally notice him. 

Maybe they’d finally look twice at him. Maybe they’d finally offer him the affection he so desperately craved. Maybe they’d finally talk to him, or treat him like an equal. Maybe they’d finally start acting like his existence was something worthwhile, and not just some misfortunate accident. 

But that was all just a bunch of ‘maybes’ and Kazuha never got to see the day where any of his dreams became reality. His family fell apart, succumbing to the debt that plagued their clan. Kazuha’s life of nobility broke away and shattered, and he knew he was supposed to be sad, yet — he couldn’t feel a single thing other than relief.

He thought that maybe he’d be able to live a life of normalcy with his parents. Perhaps they’d be living simpler lives, but maybe it would be happier.

However, that wasn’t the case. His parents would rather die than live with ‘commoners’ and Kazuha couldn’t manage to sway their opinions. They were dishonored, and death was better than dishonor. 

They killed themselves, and when Kazuha refused to join them, they died disappointed with their only son. Their one child and the last of their legacy. They were always disappointed in him, though — it was nothing really new to Kazuha. He was used to it. It was something he’d adjusted to. 

Kazuha tried to cry when they died, but he couldn’t bring himself to. All of his life, his parents had ordered him to maintain a mask. A perfectly composed, well-trained façade. No one saw through it; no one tried to.  

Emotions were a weakness, and emotions just got you hurt. Emotions enabled the world to walk all over you. Emotions hindered you and dragged you down. Down, down, and down — down straight to the depths. Kazuha knew it better than anyone.

So he carried on with his life after the Kaedehara clan collapsed. 

He did what he’d always wanted to do, ever since he was a young boy. He wandered.

He journeyed from place to place, exploring every nook and cranny of his home country. It was a peaceful existence; a simpler one. He missed it sometimes — those warm summer days spent traveling the terrain of Inazuma.

He saw the red leaves of his hometown in his dreams. And he missed it. He really did. He missed the time he’d spend picking up those leaves, lifting them to his lips and playing a melancholy tune. He missed the time he’d spent running beneath those leaves, a smile on his lips and laughter on his tongue, his friends following close in his footsteps — friends who were all lost to the land of eternity. 

It hurt. He tried not to let it hurt, but it did. He missed so many things, so many people. He was young, far too young to have experienced so much loss and pain. But he would shoulder it; he’d carry the heavy burdens on his heart and he’d do it without protest. He’d remain silent and compliant, burying all of his emotions dutifully. 

But when he was with the Crux — they made some of those burdens lighter. They’d ease the weight on his heart, and they’d make things more tolerable. Kazuha never imagined something like that to happen to him, but it did, and it was . . . It was nice. 

It was nice to have people to rely on again. It was nice to have people who’d be there for him, people who would help him when he needed it. People who cared about him, with all their heart and soul. He’d almost forgotten what that had felt like. 

Two faces flashed within his mind, smiling happily at him, and Kazuha clutched at his vision, digging his nails into the cold surface. 

There was no use in dwelling too much about the past. Kazuha always liked to focus on the present. He would just go with the flow, following it wherever it took him. He’d drift along the wind, allowing himself to be guided. Whatever path his life took, he’d walk along it. There was no need to look over his shoulder, no need to stare behind him.

Yet he couldn’t dispel those two faces from his thoughts, despite his efforts.

Loud laughter, an equally loud voice. Purple eyes and blonde hair. Large hands, patting his head. The smell of sunshine and happiness. A fair face and dark hair, the sharp and smoky tang of lightning along with the crisp and cold scent of the stars. A hat with fancy, intricate ornaments, bells that rang with every step the owner took. 

Kazuha missed them. Was that so wrong of him? Was it wrong to miss someone? Did that make him weak and fragile? Did that make him pathetic? 

“You’ve changed. You’re getting weak.” 

The words echoed through Kazuha’s mind as he pulled on his clothes, slipping into his usual attire. He tried to block it all out, he tried to cross the memories from his mind, but it was a futile effort. Now, more than ever, the past was coming back to haunt him. 

Kazuha nearly jumped out of his skin when someone knocked on his door, calling out to him. “Kazu-chan! Hurry up! We’re all waiting for you!” One of the Crux fleet sailors shouted, and Kazuha took a deep breath. “I’m coming!” He replied, taking a small step forward. I’m coming, he repeated to himself. 

When Kazuha exited his room, he was met with a variety of happy, smiling faces.

As soon as he set foot onto the deck, people yelled towards him, all desperate to be heard over one another. “Happy birthday, Kazuha!” Various people chorused towards him, and Kazuha smiled, ducking his head sheepishly. He wasn't used to so much attention at once.

All around him, people swarmed. Hands clapped his back, his shoulder, patted his head and ruffled his hair. Kazuha felt overwhelmed. It was like being surrounded by a bunch of Beidous, all at once. It was pleasant, but caused him to feel smothered all too quickly. 

“Okay, okay! Stop crowding him! You’re going to crush him!” Beidou exclaimed, swatting the Crux fleet members to the side. They parted for her like the sea, and Beidou smiled down at him. Kazuha met her gaze, managing to offer a small smile in return. 

“How are you feeling, Kazuha?” Beidou inquired, slinging an arm around the boy’s shoulder. She glanced down at him, and Kazuha tried not to shrink away. “Never been better,” he retorted. “The sun is shining, the birds are singing their gallant cries. The ocean is at peace, as am I. The wind is calm, and my heart is in turn. All is well.” 

“So he’s feeling great!” Beidou cheered, swinging her fist into the air. Around him, people voiced their excitement, crying out happily while Kazuha simply smiled. 

He was ushered around, various pirates offering him various gifts. Kazuha was given more alcohol than he could properly count, along with chunks of mora. He appreciated it all, though he wouldn’t be drinking everything anytime soon — he didn’t want to get alcohol poisoning, after all. He wished to maintain his good health. 

A lot of the pirates were already drunk, and it wasn’t even past the morning, yet. Kazuha was half-tempted to join them, yet he wished to maintain his sobriety. He refrained from drinking, holding himself back. At most, he took a few sips, just to appease his comrades. 

“Ah, Kazuha! Tell everyone the story of how—” someone hiccuped, their sentence cut off by a loud burp. Laughter sounded, and Kazuha covered his mouth with a hand, shaking his head slightly. “Tell everyone the story of how you beat the Raiden Shogun!” 

“Oooh, hell yeah!” 

“I love that story!” 

“That’s our Kazuha!” 

“You beat that purple bitch’s ass!” 

Various cheers and whoops echoed throughout the crowd, and Kazuha blushed faintly, hiding his embarrassment well. 

He hadn’t tried to boast too much to his companions, but Gorou wouldn’t let his amazing feat slide so easily. Gorou told anyone who would listen about what Kazuha had done, when he’d saved Aether’s life. When he’d defied the Raiden Shogun herself, using two visions at once.

There will always be those who dare to brave the lightning’s glow.

Kazuha could have sworn he felt him there, watching over him. His dear friend had protected him, shielding him from harm and guiding him. He was with Kazuha when he went up against the Shogun; Kazuha was sure of it. And that made him feel at peace, knowing that his beloved friend was at peace, too. It eased some of Kazuha’s grief.

“Come on, Kazuha! Tell us! Tell us!” The chants echoed through the crowd, and Kazuha cleared his throat.

At once, everyone fell silent, waiting expectantly for him to say something. Kazuha was always a modest person, so bragging about his accomplishments felt foreign to him. 

“Well, it all started on the Tenshukaku . . .” 

Kazuha listened to the various gasps and cries of awe that formed within the group as he told his story. People always praised him so highly, but Kazuha didn’t understand why. He couldn’t fathom it. He was just doing what anyone else would have done. He saved a friend in need. 

Seeing Aether, standing there as still as a statue with the Shogun right behind him — her blade drawn — Kazuha had been forced right back to his old best friend’s death. The memories, as painful and bitter as ever, had plagued him. He’d felt so scared, terrified to the very bone, because it was happening again, and he was going to lose another friend the exact same way—

But no. He’d managed to save Aether. Even though he’d failed his old best friend . . . Even though he’d failed Tomo, he hadn’t failed Aether. He’d managed to make it on time for once. He wasn’t a second too late. 

And Tomo helped him. Kazuha finally, finally got Tomo’s vision to light up once again. And that was enough for him. Some of the pain he felt towards Tomo’s absence ebbed away, because Tomo was never really gone. He was always with Kazuha, protecting him. It was reassuring. Tomo was still with him. 

(But he wasn’t. The one with a fair face and stormy eyes. He wasn’t. He was gone, gone somewhere that Kazuha couldn’t reach. Was he ever coming back?) 

“A toast for Kazuha!” Beidou suddenly yelled, lifting her cup up into the air. All around, people followed suit, throwing their own cups up as well, drinks sloshing around messily. Kazuha raised his own glass sheepishly, clicking it together with Beidou’s. 

“Happy birthday to Kazuha!” Beidou called out, and the Crux fleet repeated after her, voices filled with mirth. “Happy birthday, Kazuha!” 

Kazuha’s heart warmed. Something fuzzy enveloped his senses, something he hadn’t felt in a while. He was happy — happier than he’d been in ages. The world was constantly changing, always shifting around him, but that was alright. He would change with it, and he’d move along with the tide — and through it all, his friends would stay at his side.

He was sure of it. 

[ 🍂 🍁 🍂 ] 

“Have fun, Kazuha!” 

“Enjoy yourself, Kazu-chan!” 

“Tell the Resistance we said hi!” 

“Tell Gorou we miss him!” 

Kazuha smiled, trying to listen to all of the requests at once. He stood on the docks of Ritou, Beidou beside him and the Alcor resting peacefully at the port. 

Kazuha had requested to return to his homeland, all so he could pay a few visits to some important people. It wouldn’t be right if he didn’t see them. His heart felt like something was missing; without them, he didn’t feel entirely complete. 

“You’ll be okay, won’t you Kazuha?” Beidou asked him, her voice soft.

She was keeping this between just them — she was trying to maintain privacy for him. Kazuha waved towards the members of the Crux still aboard the ship before turning to address Beidou. 

“I’ll be alright.” He sent her a reassuring smile. It would be his first time setting foot in Inazuma all alone. He was nervous, he had to admit, but he was ready. It had to happen eventually, and now was as good a time as ever. If it wasn’t now, then it’d be never.

Peace had settled over the land. The peril Inazuma had formerly been in was gone. The Resistance had won, and the people were freed from the Vision Hunt Decree. Everything everyone fought for, everything everyone sacrificed themselves for . . . It had finally come to pass. Kazuha could be content, knowing it all wasn’t in vain. 

Still, it was hard not to let old emotions crawl back up on him. The fear and terror. The pain and suffering. The loss and sorrow. The anger and hopelessness. The grief, raw and stabbing. He still had to constantly look over his shoulder. Even if he wasn’t a wanted criminal anymore, his instincts wouldn’t subside; it’d take a while for him to adjust.

Beidou rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “You’ve got this, kid. Go see your friends and have fun. You deserve it.” Beidou smiled kindly at him. “The Crux fleet will be here waiting for you when you get back.” 

And that was enough to get Kazuha going.

It gave him the confidence he needed. A new sense of strength coursed through him. Even if things went wrong somehow, that was okay. He’d have friends to fall back to and rely on. Things would be just fine no matter what happened; he had nothing to fear.

“Thank you, Beidou.” 

“Of course! Now get going already!” Beidou shoved him lightly, slipping something into his pocket. The action wasn’t missed by Kazuha and his keen senses. She winked at him knowingly, waving towards him as the former criminal started walking off. 

“See you soon!” Kazuha called out, waving back towards his friends. He kept the image of their smiling faces in his mind, turning away and setting off on his new, solo journey. 

When he was far enough away from the docks, he allowed himself to pull Beidou’s gift from his pocket.

He didn’t even have to sign any papers, nor go through a long and grueling registration process, anymore. Things really had settled down over Inazuma. Visitors could come and go as they pleased.

Kazuha studied the necklace which Beidou had given him, his mouth parted slightly in awe. Just how much did this cost? He knew mora didn’t matter to Beidou. She was a pirate, taking what she pleased whenever she wanted. She sailed the seas far and wide; she discovered plenty of worthwhile treasures. 

But this — this was something different, something special. Did she have this custom made? It would appear so. 

The necklace had a chain of gold, a shining ruby maple leaf hanging from the end. Kazuha clutched it close to his chest, before draping it around his neck. He would make sure not to take this off unless he had to.

He would also make sure to scold Beidou for buying him such a costly gift. She really didn’t have to, and he felt guilty wasting her hard-earned money. Still, he knew she’d just ruffle his hair and laugh at him. It would be no use in lecturing her, she always did whatever she pleased anyhow. 

As Kazuha walked through the streets of his homeland, a breeze blew by him, ruffling his hair. His locks were tousled by the wind, and Kazuha tilted his head back, staring up towards the sky. Despite the torment Inazuma had brought him, Kazuha couldn’t deny that it was beautiful. 

And despite everything — he was proud to be born here. Amazing, good people lived in this place. Had lived in this place. Kazuha clutched at his necklace, a soft sigh escaping him. The pain would never truly leave him, but it would get better over time. It had to.

Around him, people laughed and shouted, talking amongst themselves. Kazuha listened to it all, catching bits and pieces of various conversations. Nothing could escape his sensitive hearing. Every word spoken was filled with happiness; everyone was content here, not a single soul out of place. 

Something within Kazuha calmed and settled, like a leaf settling on the surface of water. The people of Inazuma were at ease, and so he was, too. 

It was heartwarming to see children running about, chasing each other gleefully. Friends walked about, giggling and chatting amicably. Couples walked hand in hand, kissing and hugging. Kazuha watched it all, his chest feeling strangely tight. 

Yes. He was at ease. He was happy for the people of his homeland. He was. Though he couldn’t help but wish, deep down inside, that he could have experienced this peaceful version of Inazuma. 

He imagined himself walking these streets, hand in hand with a dark haired boy. He imagined their lips connecting, leaves falling all around them. He imagined running down the road, chasing after a familiar blonde lost to eternity. He imagined venturing this new world with everyone he missed so dearly. 

He was skilled at imagining things. Kazuha had an active imagination, truth be told. It was how he was so talented at poetry, after all. Though his vivid sense of imagination sometimes brought him more pain than good — like in this case. 

Kazuha sighed to himself. Mulling over what could have been would do him more harm than anything. His friends would want him to enjoy himself, so he would. He couldn’t allow himself to linger on any what-ifs. 

“Kazuha! Kazuha!” 

Kazuha perked up at the familiar voice, risking a glance over his shoulder. A smile formed onto his face, his gaze connecting with familiar turquoise eyes.

“Gorou.” 

Gorou ran towards his friend, meeting Kazuha with open arms. Kazuha was powerless to stop the hug from happening. Gorou crashed into him like a tidal wave, wrapping his arms tightly around a bemused (and suffocating) Kazuha. 

“I missed you so much!” Gorou exclaimed. “How are you?! How have you been?! How did the sea treat you?” Gorou burst out excitedly, his tail wagging forcefully from behind him. Kazuha tried to hide his amusement, a small smile lingering on his lips. 

“One question at a time, please,” Kazuha choked out, and Gorou released him, allowing Kazuha to inhale some much-needed air. The samurai took a deep breath, offering Gorou another smile; brighter and larger this time. 

“It’s good to see you, Gorou. I missed you, too.” I missed you more than you know. 

Gorou and Kazuha had always been close. Back when Kazuha first met the Resistance, back when Tomo was still at his side, Gorou had instantly caught Kazuha’s eye. The two had gotten along well, bonding remarkably quickly. Tomo would always call them ‘fast friends’ and Kazuha would have to agree. 

Whenever they were engaged in battle, they’d have each other’s backs. A part of Kazuha ached remembering those times; him, Gorou, and Tomo against the world — facing the Shogunate’s army with their heads held high. Tomo’s electricity would crackle through the air, Kazuha’s wind swirling alongside it, while Gorou’s geo power caused the very earth underneath them to rumble and shake. 

Kazuha recalled the memories fondly, because while those days were harsh and unforgiving, it was a time where all of them were together. United and complete. But now, Kazuha was missing quite a few pieces to the puzzle that made up his heart. 

When Tomo had died that fateful day, inlaid upon the statue of the Shogun, Kazuha had fled to the Resistance. With Tomo’s dying vision in his hand and the hunters on his heels, Kazuha had gone to the one place he knew he’d be welcomed. He’d traveled to the people who had made him feel the safest. 

Gorou had welcomed Kazuha instantly, concern shining in his eyes. Kazuha still remembered his expression when he told Gorou of Tomo’s execution. He’d looked so devastated, and yet he held Kazuha up, comforting him through it all as Kazuha broke down and cried — for the first time in years. 

As much as Gorou pleaded with Kazuha to stay, he couldn’t. He was a wanted criminal, and he felt like he’d just become a burden to the Resistance. The wound of Tomo’s death was still so raw and fresh; Kazuha couldn’t fight with his friends, not yet. So instead he continued to run, drifting from place to place without a solid destination in his mind. 

Kazuha’s journey was a lonely one. 

But not anymore. Not any longer. Now, he had friends all around him, supporting him and lifting him up. He’d never have to be alone again. 

Kazuha held onto Gorou as the boy pulled him along, tugging him down a discreet path littered with sakura blossoms. Gorou was talking animatedly about the state of affairs within Inazuma, and Kazuha listened all the while, a small smile plastered onto his lips.

“Anyway, Kazuha, I love your necklace! Where’d you get it from?” Gorou peered over towards him. His tail was still wagging, seemingly unable to stop, and Kazuha smiled a bit wider, his heart tugging with the familiar sensation of affection. At the question, he paused, humming softly.

“Oh, this? I got it just recently, actually. As a gift from Captain Beidou.” Kazuha twirled the necklace around with an expression of fondness. Gorou jumped up at that, pulling on Kazuha’s hand. 

“Really? That’s great.” Gorou grinned at him, and Kazuha sensed a bit of nervousness clinging to Gorou’s scent. What could his friend possibly be anxious about? Kazuha opened his mouth to ask if anything was the matter, but Gorou didn’t let him get the words out to begin with. 

“Anyway, let’s get going! The others back at the Resistance will be so happy to see you!” Gorou dragged Kazuha along, and the boy was powerless to stop him — not as if he’d want to. He simply followed after Gorou, permitting the other to tug him all around. 

Gorou was rambling on and on again about some pointless topic, Kazuha thought this time it was about his various siblings and their favorite foods, when he suddenly paused. “We’re almost there!” He announced loudly, causing Kazuha to wince.

“Ah, yes . . . It would appear so.” Kazuha smiled weakly, his ears still ringing slightly after Gorou nearly incinerated them. Gorou turned to face him, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, Kazuha!” He exclaimed, his ears and tail drooping. “I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

Kazuha reached a hand out, gently patting the boy’s head. Gorou leaned instinctively into his touch, his tail starting to wag once more. Kazuha giggled at the sight, and Gorou brightened even more at the sound, his tail thumping excitedly against the ground. 

“No worries, general Gorou.” Kazuha’s tone was teasing, and Gorou flushed, his face turning a bright red. He looked like a tomato. Kazuha wanted to play with him some more, but Gorou managed to escape his antics, tugging him into a walk once more. “Let’s go then, Mr. Pirate,” Gorou retorted tauntingly.

“I’m not a pirate. More of a wanderer, I would say,” Kazuha replied airily. “I wouldn’t like to put myself under one strict label, however. Noble, samurai, ronin, rebel, criminal, soldier, wanderer, pirate . . . So many titles. Too many titles. Wouldn’t you agree, dear friend?” 

Gorou glanced back at him, giving Kazuha’s hand a brief squeeze. “You’re right,” he said softly. “Doesn’t mean you don’t reek like a pirate, though,” he added matter-of-factly, causing Kazuha to laugh. “Oh? Come now, I have remarkable hygiene,” Kazuha protested, and Gorou chuckled. “That doesn’t mean you don’t smell like fish, salt, and the sea,” he shot back. 

“. . . Fair enough,” Kazuha relented, and Gorou grinned impishly, suddenly coming to a halt. They had traveled for quite a while, and though Kazuha wasn’t tired, he figured they were due for a rest sometime soon. Due to his time spent traveling and adventuring, he had plenty of stamina, but even he needed his breaks at times. 

“Wait, Kazuha. Do you hear that?” Gorou inquired, holding a hand out. Kazuha paused. Hear what? He wondered to himself. He would have instantly picked up even the slightest disturbance. Were his senses escaping him? Perhaps he was spending too much time at sea and not within nature. 

Gorou inclined for him to listen, so Kazuha did, keeping his ears peeled. “Over here!” Gorou urged him, gesturing for Kazuha to follow him. He ran off before Kazuha could probably move to accompany him, and Kazuha stifled a sigh, watching his friend race off into the foliage. 

It was common practice for Gorou to speed off ahead. He often got himself into trouble that way. He plunged into chaos first, and then thought things through later. He was very headstrong, but Kazuha’s calm and level attitude helped even that out. That was why they worked so well on the battlefield together. They complimented one another.

Kazuha made his way after Gorou, hoping they wouldn’t run into some kind of monster. Kazuha wasn’t exactly in the mood to fight, not today, though he’d draw his blade if need be. He’d just have to be a bit more cautious; he wanted to be careful that his necklace didn’t fall off or break during any skirmishes. 

Kazuha was so distracted by his musings, he almost jumped out of his skin when he was ambushed on all sides.

“Surprise, Kazuha! Happy birthday!” 

Kazuha’s eyes widened in shock, and he looked around in wonder, finally taking in his surroundings. Members of the Resistance flanked him, all of them wearing beaming smiles. Kazuha recognized quite a few faces, and the various soldiers all sent him cheerful waves, which Kazuha returned, dazed. 

A surprise party? His friends threw him a surprise party? 

“Kazuha!” Gorou appeared at his side, beaming. His smile rivaled even the sun itself, his gaze practically glowing. “That pained me so much to keep quiet about, but it was so worth it! You should have seen your face! Your eyes widened ever-so-slightly, your mouth parted into an ‘o’ and Archons, it was amazing! I could faint from the joy!” 

Gorou nudged him happily. “The Kaedehara Kazuha, finally caught unaware! You played right into our hands!” He giggled mischievously. “You know, I could have sworn you’d see right through me instantly, but you didn’t! Kokomi planned this all out, she’s such a great strategist, wouldn’t you agree? Anyway, Kazuha, do you like it?!” 

Gorou spoke so hurriedly, like he was in a rush to get all of his words out. Kazuha turned towards him, smiling weakly. He reached his arms out, wrapping them tightly around Gorou and squeezing. 

His friend seemed surprised, a faint ‘oh!’ escaping him before he grinned, hugging Kazuha back. He rested his head on Kazuha’s shoulder, embracing the boy for a moment. After a few tender heartbeats, though, Gorou spoke again. “I’m assuming that’s a yes?” 

Kazuha laughed, the sound light and melodic. “Yes, Gorou. I love it. Thank you so much. All of you . . . Thank you.” 

Kazuha pulled away from the hug, trying not to feel overwhelmed. Of course, he’d just been thrown a party, so another one came as a shock to him. He truthfully hadn’t been expecting it. At most, he expected a small get-together and maybe a nice lunch. But this? This was something else entirely. 

“We wanted to do something big for you.” A kind voice suddenly spoke up from behind Kazuha, and he glanced back to see Kokomi approaching. She walked towards him slowly, a small smile on her tranquil face. Kazuha dipped his head respectfully towards the girl, acting on instinct. 

“Please, no need.” Kokomi waved her hands gently. “This was all Gorou’s idea. I simply fleshed out the concept. He was very adamant on throwing you the biggest party we could afford, and I was more than happy to oblige. The Resistance owes you a lot, Kazuha, and our victory would never have been achieved if it weren’t for you.” 

“You’ll do great things, Kazuha. One day, the world’s gonna know your name. One day, you’ll go down in history. I wish I could be there to see when it happens!” 

Kazuha’s chest tightened, twisting painfully. Tomo . . . If only Tomo were really here to see this. He would be floored. He’d have been so happy. He should have been with Kazuha, but he wasn’t. Kazuha tried not to let the dark thoughts drag him down; he was meant to be happy, and he was — he really was.

He just sometimes couldn’t dispel the grief haunting him. 

“Oh. Thank you. But there’s no need to thank me, I . . . I was just doing what anyone would.” Kazuha smiled shyly, glancing over towards Gorou. The gratitude seemed to shine within his eyes, for Gorou smiled back at him, moving over to grab Kazuha’s hands. 

“You did more than anyone else!” Gorou insisted. “You saved so many lives, mine included. You deserve this, after everything you’ve been through.” Gorou’s gaze clouded briefly, and Kazuha’s stomach churned. Everything I’ve been through. But then Gorou smiled again, and the look was gone.

“Happy birthday, Kazuha. Now come celebrate with us. We made your favorite dish and got some cake, too!” Gorou gushed. 

Kazuha closed his eyes, laughing softly. “Very well,” he agreed after a moment, following after Gorou. 

Together, the two of them sat down at some of the tables scattered about the area. Other Resistance members soon came to join them, Kokomi included. Everyone seemed to want to either praise Kazuha, or wish him a happy birthday. He had to constantly thank people, being forced to look left and right as more and more newcomers approached him. 

Kazuha did enjoy the meal prepared for him. It was fish, which was always a pleasant delicacy. He nibbled his food delicately, taking small bites — much like a bird. Tomo would always tease him for the way he ate. Kazuha stared down at the grass, swallowing. 

Gorou’s hand on his knee made Kazuha look up. He met Gorou’s gaze, and Gorou seemed to know what Kazuha was thinking without either of them needing to say anything. Gorou could always read him well. While Kazuha’s emotions didn’t show on his face, someone could read his body language and gaze if they simply knew him well enough. 

Kazuha smiled towards Gorou to show his friend that he was alright. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I’m okay. 

I’m okay. 

Gorou seemed hesitant, but he eventually looked away from Kazuha, joining back into the various conversations taking place.

Kazuha listened in to the dull chatter, providing his input or thoughts when need be. It was only when a cake was placed in front of him that he actually focused, blinking as if he were a deer caught in a pair of headlights. His mouth parted, but no words seemed to come out.

“Oh my,” was all Kazuha could manage to choke out. The cake was huge, consisting of his favorite flavors — strawberry and vanilla. It was decorated with maple leaves, and Kazuha found himself dipping a finger into the icing. He realized how poor his manners were and blushed, quickly dipping his head.

He went to apologize, but Kokomi giggled. “Try it, Kazuha!” She insisted. “We made it just for you.” 

“I’m not a chef or anything, but here. I made it just for you. If you don’t like it, then whatever, just forget about it. Forget this ever happened. But I . . . I hope you like it. Happy birthday, Kazuha.” 

Kazuha pressed his lips against the icing, licking it tentatively off of his finger. He tried to push the memory from his mind, tried to dispel any pesky thoughts about a particular dark-haired boy. He shouldn’t be thinking of him anymore. 

“It’s wonderful,” Kazuha said truthfully, a content smile on his face. He was being honest, of course — the cake matched his exact taste. It was just the right amount of sweet, nothing too overbearing. It was baked to perfection. 

“It’s wonderful. I love it. Thank you, truly. I really appreciate this. You’ve made my birthday so much better.” 

Kazuha wanted to scold himself. He had to stop diving into the past; he needed to get a grip and focus on reality. He was grateful for Kokomi, who helped him concentrate on what was actually happening, and not on what was going down in his mind. 

“That’s a relief,” Kokomi giggled. “We were worried we’d messed it up. We’re not exactly bakers or anything. But we were determined to all pitch in and help make this for you.” 

Kazuha smiled a bit wider, leaning over to grab his friends some plates and utensils. “If that’s the case, then let us make haste and dig in,” he offered, and Gorou perked up. “I thought you’d never ask!” He cried, his ears pricked with delight, his tail swaying from side to side. Kazuha simply laughed. 

Kazuha ate his dessert quietly, content to sit in silence. The food brought him comfort; it helped ease his nerves and lulled him into a better mindset. That was what a good meal could do to you, and it was one of the reasons Kazuha valued balanced dishes so much. This was perfect; his friends had really gone above and beyond, all for him. 

When everyone finally finished eating, it was evening. The afternoon had faded, and it was starting to grow more chilly outside, a light cold filling the air. Kazuha was used to this temperature, and in fact, he enjoyed it. His clothing was well-suited for the weather, anyhow, so it wasn’t as if he wasn’t warm. 

“I should get going. I still have a few places to stop by,” Kazuha said softly, turning to stare at his friends from the Resistance. He felt guilty for departing with them, but they all seemed to have expected it. None of them looked too surprised; Gorou just fixed him with a knowing expression, nodding slowly. 

“Of course, Kazuha. We understand,” Gorou said. “Be safe, okay?” 

“I always am.” Kazuha smiled, moving over to wrap his arms around Gorou. He hugged his friend, who hugged him back tightly.

As they pulled away, Gorou slipped something into the palm of Kazuha’s hand. “Happy birthday, Kazuha. May our paths cross again.” Gorou waved at him, and Kazuha smiled, clutching the photograph Gorou had given him close. 

“They will,” he said with certainty. He waved towards Gorou, turning and walking away. His footsteps fell lightly over the ground, and he tried not to let himself feel too guilty as he headed off. Perhaps he should’ve stayed the night. What if he didn’t spend enough time with them? 

Kazuha had an irrational sense of fear and paranoia. Ever since he’d lost a few people dear to him, he couldn’t help but worry over trivial things. He grew anxious wondering over whether or not his friends would abandon him; he grew terrified wondering what if he saw his friends for the last time, and just never realized it. After each meeting, he couldn’t help but feel a bout of anxiety. 

It was a habit he needed to grow out of. He knew that. Yet it was easier said than done. Whenever Kazuha felt like he was getting better, something always happened that caused him to come crashing down again, losing himself to his own demons. 

Healing was a grueling process, and it was hard to heal when horrible things continued to happen, again and again. The world finally seemed at peace, but could Kazuha trust it? When would things go to hell again? When would everything come crashing down around him, like it always did? 

Good things never lasted. Good things never were allowed to flourish, not for long. Someone or something would always trample every positive thing, wiping it out completely, and Kazuha was powerless to stop it. He was powerless to stop any of it. 

He shook his head to himself. He had to stop dwelling over his thoughts in such a way. If Beidou were with him, she would be lecturing him by now, scolding him for getting worked up over nothing. He thought of her beaming smile and booming laugh, his heart feeling just a bit lighter.

When Kazuha was far enough away from the Resistance, he finally looked down at the gift which Gorou had given him. 

His eyes widened slightly as he examined the photograph, his breath hitching. It was a picture of him, Tomo, Gorou, and all of their friends. Tomo had his arms wrapped around Kazuha, a wide grin on his face, while Kazuha was smiling gently. They all looked so happy. Kazuha traced a finger over the surface of the photograph, his chest tightening. His throat felt oddly closed up.

They would never be able to recreate this moment. Kazuha would never be able to experience such a memory like that again. He clutched the picture close to his heart, closing his eyes. He felt something swelling inside of him — he blinked away the familiar drops of tears, forcing himself to keep his composure. He wasn’t going to cry.

He pictured Tomo peering down at him, grinning like an idiot. He’d chastise Kazuha for being so emotional, and he’d probably start teasing him by now. Kazuha laughed to himself, shaking his head slightly. He wiped at his face, taking a deep breath to steady himself. 

Gorou had probably gone through a lot to get this picture. Kazuha wondered what strings he had to pull to obtain such a thing. He slipped the photograph carefully into his pocket. As soon as he reboarded the Alcor, he’d have the picture framed — and the next time he saw Gorou, he’d have to give him a massive hug. 

Kazuha felt a bit lighter as he continued on his way. With the picture tucked securely away in his pocket, he was comforted. Its presence made him feel better — it eased a bit of the burdens crushing his tired heart. 

As Kazuha walked, a breeze picked up, ruffling his hair and clothes. Leaves blew all around him, and Kazuha reached a hand out, grabbing ahold of one. He smiled slightly, pressing the leaf to his lips. He played a gentle tune, allowing the song to fill up the forest as he traveled. 

Kazuha passed various woodland creatures on his journey, and they all peered out at him from the undergrowth, fascinated by the serenade he played. Kazuha paused to examine a fox, which poked its head out at him from a bush.

Foxes were a common occurrence amongst Inazuma, acting as a form of guidance or guardians. Kazuha always felt reassured by their presence. He extended his palm, and the fox crept towards him, sniffing his fingers. When it was assured he wasn’t a threat, the fox nestled against him, and Kazuha smiled, petting its slim nose fondly.

“With a pelt akin to the sunset, and a sense of wit outmatching even the most cunning of creatures, you truly are a marvelous being,” Kazuha whispered. The fox looked up at him with wide brown eyes, as if it could understand everything he was saying. Kazuha liked to think that it could.

“I’ll name you Russet,” Kazuha decided to himself. He enjoyed naming various things amongst nature. Whether it was plants, trees, or animals themselves — Kazuha had something to call all of them. His friends used to tease him for it, but Kazuha never let it bother him.

Russet shuffled closer to Kazuha, and the boy decided to walk with the fox. It trailed at his side, trotting happily after him all the while. It was nice to have a companion; Kazuha didn’t feel as lonely. While he didn’t mind being by himself, he certainly appreciated the company this fox provided. 

Kazuha continued playing his song on the leaf throughout their trip. The melody echoed throughout the air, carried by the breeze, and Kazuha hoped the tune would reach some lost soul. 

He prayed it would bring someone else comfort, much like it did for him. He wondered who else was listening to the winds, just like he was; he wondered if there was anyone out there that was listening for him. 

“Wherever in this world I roam, I carry memories of my home.” 

Kazuha’s fluid song faltered, the notes wavering, but he quickly caught himself, righting his mistake. He shook his head at himself, chiding his blunders. He should be more careful; he was allowing memories to distract him again. 

Kazuha glanced down towards the fox, and thankfully enough, Russet was still traveling with him, undeterred by Kazuha’s slip-up. 

Russet’s ears suddenly pricked, and the fox seemed more alert, its fluffy tail swishing to-and-fro. Kazuha paused, allowing himself to listen to what Russet certainly must have heard — and that was when it hit him. The faint, but familiar, sound of voices.

“. . . Hurry up, Aether! We’re going to be late! What if the party has already ended by now?! We can’t miss it! Imagine all of the delicious food, and the cake, oh . . . Come on, come on, you’ve got to hurry!” 

“Paimon, not everything is about food. It’s Kazuha’s birthday today — we’re doing this all for him. Not for food.” 

“What, Paimon isn’t allowed to want to celebrate for Kazuha and for food? You always ruin Paimon’s fun!” 

Kazuha smiled to himself as an aggravated sigh filled up the forest. Aether and Paimon — they were here. Something warmed within Kazuha’s heart, happiness trickling through his body like a stream. He had assumed Aether and Paimon would be nowhere near Inazuma after everything — yet here they were. 

He expected the traveling duo to journey to Sumeru, to explore the infinite land of wisdom. He had assumed their adventure within Inazuma was at an end. He always knew he’d meet Aether and Paimon again, though; just not so soon. 

Kazuha made his presence known, stepping through the undergrowth to appear before Aether and his floating companion. Kazuha’s own travel buddy had disappeared, vanishing off into the shadows. Russet was probably scared off by the new, unfamiliar faces. Kazuha didn’t blame the fox for leaving. 

However, he hoped Russet would show up again. The cute little creature was pleasant to have around. It would be a shame if they were never reunited. He wished for Russet to stay safe, wherever the fox had disappeared off to. 

“Aether. Paimon. Were you looking for me, by any chance?” Kazuha inquired, coming to stand in front of the pair. Paimon shrieked in alarm, startled by his sudden arrival, while Aether only seemed mildly surprised, his golden eyes widening ever-so-slightly.

By now, Aether was probably used to Kazuha showing up at the strangest of times. Kazuha had the habit of materializing out of nearly thin air. Whenever someone needed him, whenever someone called for him, Kazuha was there. Aether suspected it was because of the wind; Kazuha was always listening to it, and it told him all kinds of secrets. 

“Kazuha!” Aether greeted him with a smile. “You’re here. Fancy meeting you like this.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I didn’t intend for us to reunite in this way, but . . . Well, here we are.” 

“Yeah, we had a whole big surprise planned!” Paimon exclaimed. “Paimon was going to burst out of a cake and—”

Aether raised a hand slowly, shaking his head. “No,” he said, sounding exasperated. “That was not at all how things were supposed to go. You’re just obsessed with cake, Paimon. It’s unhealthy. Don’t you think you weigh enough?” 

Paimon’s scandalized gasp echoed through the trees. “Why, Paimon never heard someone as rude as you!” Paimon screeched. “How dare you, Traveler?! Are you calling Paimon fat or what?!” 

“It’s a miracle you can even still float around with how much you eat,” Aether retorted slyly. Kazuha could sense Paimon was about to scream, so he cleared his throat, attempting to ease some of the tension. The last thing he needed was for these two to bicker until the sun set. 

“Please. There is no need to argue,” Kazuha insisted. “Paimon, your weight is normal. Aether, I beg of you, don’t tease Paimon.” Kazuha dipped his head, hiding his amused smile, and Aether’s melodic laughter sounded throughout the forest. “Sorry, sorry!” Aether giggled.

“You’re apologizing to him but not to Paimon?! You—”

“Anyways,” Aether exclaimed loudly, cutting off whatever Paimon was going to rant about next. “It’s a good thing we found you, Kazuha. But also a bad thing, since that means . . . I’m assuming the party has already ended, huh? We missed it. Ugh.” Aether pressed his hand against his face, slowly shaking his head. 

“It has. It was a marvelous surprise, indeed, and the best party I have ever been to. Granted, I haven’t attended many, but my point still stands true.” Kazuha smiled to himself, fondly recounting the memories of earlier that day. “But fret not, friends. I understand you couldn’t make it. Things happen. Please, don’t feel too discouraged. The day isn’t over yet, after all.” 

Aether perked up, something within his gaze brightening — it was like watching a wilting flower bloom, being reborn once again. “You’re right!” He cried. “Kazuha, please, would you spend some time with Paimon and I? We wanted to do so at your party, but got lost on the way there and well — you know how that ended. Everything happens for a reason though, right? Like you always say, fate works in mysterious ways!” 

An expression of fondness crossed onto Kazuha’s features, and his smile softened. Aether had remembered him saying such a thing? The little detail made Kazuha want to laugh with glee. It was nice to have such good, considerate friends. 

“Of course, Aether. I’m glad you asked. I would love to spend some time with you. What would you like to do?” Kazuha began to walk with Aether once more, setting off to no place in particular. Not yet, at least. 

“Oh, don’t ask me that, Kazuha! It’s your birthday, after all! Let’s do something you want to do! Surely there must be something? Anything you want, we can do it! I’ll pay for it all too, of course, so don’t worry about the price. Mora isn’t an issue.” Aether beamed at him, sounding so innocently happy. 

Kazuha regarded his friend for a moment. Something he wanted to do? Regardless of price? Kazuha thought to himself for a while. What did he want to do? Well, ideally, he’d gather up everyone he cared for and celebrate with them all — but that could never happen, and he didn’t want to lose himself to idealistic fantasies. 

So he settled on the next best thing. “Why don’t we sunbathe?” He suggested to Aether, who looked surprised, tilting his head slowly. “Sunbathe . . . ? Ah, well, sure! If that’s what you want! I could use a tan.” Aether glanced down at his pale skin, a grin forming onto his face, and Kazuha laughed softly.

“Come along, then. Please follow closely after me. I can smell and hear the sound of waves in the distance. The ocean calls to us, Traveler. The beach is near — let’s hurry to meet it.” Kazuha smiled, and Aether smiled back. 

Kazuha led the way towards the beach, following the scent of salt and fish. The track was easy enough to trace; all he had to do was inhale a bit deeply, and there the ocean was, beckoning to him. Inazuma was a land surrounded by the sea, after all, so it wasn’t too hard to stumble across the various beaches. 

Kazuha moved through the forest with a nimble sort of grace, and Aether kept up with him relatively easily. Kazuha remembered when he had first met Aether; it felt like ages ago. Had that much time really passed? The days just flew by, passing on and on. Kazuha feared the passage of time; it slowed for no one. 

Aether had snuck aboard the Alcor, curiosity shining in his eyes. He smelled of the stars, of the very universe above them. He carried the scent of a whole other world entirely. 

And it was fascinating; Kazuha wished he could see what Aether must have. He wished he could travel to the places Aether had been to. To see different planets entirely; how marvelous was that? Kazuha dreamed of being able to adventure in such a way. 

Aether must have been to plenty of worlds, yet he stayed in Teyvat the longest. Kazuha wondered how many friends he had made. 

How many companions did he leave behind on his journeys? Would Kazuha become just another face which Aether eventually turned his back on? Because no matter what — all adventures had to come to an end. 

But Aether’s . . . Aether’s journey wouldn’t cease until he found his sister. Kazuha wanted to help him; he wanted Aether to reunite with his sibling. Kazuha knew what it felt like to miss someone, he knew what it felt like to lie awake at night, longing for their presence. He didn’t want anyone else to experience that kind of pain.

If he could help Aether find his sister, he would. He would do whatever it took to get them reunited once more. Teyvat was a large and endless place, and there was much to explore — but Aether had friends forming on every corner of the continent. He would find his sister, Kazuha was sure of it. 

He and Aether had both been through a lot. They’d gone through quite a few ordeals together. Kazuha had faced the lightning’s glow for Aether. He had risked his own life for the traveler’s, and he didn’t regret a single thing. 

When Aether had walked down those steps towards him, looking completely out of it and traumatized, Kazuha had noticed something. Something that made him dizzy at the revelation, something that caused concern and hope and despair all at once to swelter within the samurai, rising up into a deafening crescendo. 

Aether had smelled of him. It was faint, ever so faint, but it was there. He smelled like the stars, and the night sky, and poison and lightning all at once. Without a doubt in Kazuha’s mind, Aether had come across him. He was close — he was back in Inazuma. 

Kazuha had been about to burst from his emotions when the Raiden Shogun attacked. Afterwards, the rest was history.

Kazuha never did ask about him; he couldn’t bring himself to, and he never really got the chance. 

He supposed he could inquire now. They were alone, after all, just the two of them. Well, Paimon was there too, but Kazuha nearly considered her and Aether as one, now. They were never apart, practically joined at the hip.

The question longed to escape him, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to voice his inquiries. Whenever he felt like speaking, the words died on his tongue, and he decided against it. It would be a bad idea. The topic of him was a sore subject, and he didn’t want to ruin both his and Aether’s mood.

Today was a day for celebration; Kazuha had to start thinking more positively. He had to leave the past behind. 

“We’re close,” Kazuha announced after a moment of silence, broken only by their light footsteps across the ground — minus Paimon’s, of course. Aether perked up, and he grinned. Kazuha thought to himself that he looked an awful lot like a golden retriever, an overexcited puppy at heart.

“Great! It’s not the afternoon anymore, so the sun isn’t as high up in the sky as it usually would be. It’s not exactly dark yet, though, so this is perfect! Not too hot and not too cool. Perfect weather.” Aether sighed to himself, his gaze filled with a gleeful sense of merit. 

“I didn’t know you were so passionate about the weather,” Kazuha commented, keeping his tone playful. “Are you adopting my ways, Aether? Maybe soon you will start reciting haikus and reading the weather patterns.” 

Aether grinned, and his laughter was akin to music within Kazuha’s ears. “In your dreams, weather boy,” Aether joked back at him. Kazuha snickered to himself, shaking his head slightly. 

Together, he and Aether made their way away from the forest, breaking out onto the beach. Sand was crushed beneath Kazuha’s shoes as he walked, the sun bathing the area in a gentle golden glow. Kazuha found that it matched the color of Aether’s eyes. 

Birds flew far overhead, their cries echoing amidst the air. Kazuha stared up at the gulls longingly, watching them soar high above. A memory wove its way towards him, wriggling through his thoughts like an insistent worm. 

“Don’t you think the birds are just so beautiful? I long to be just like them. Free, without a single care in the world. They don’t have to worry about anything. The wind will guide them, and with their wings, they can go wherever they please whenever. It’s such a peaceful existence.” 

Dark blue eyes had looked at him then, filled with a strange emotion. “Why would you want to be something else?” The question had startled Kazuha. “You’re perfect just the way you are. You don’t need to change yourself in any way. Do you understand, Kazuha?” 

Kazuha had felt oddly happy at that moment. He remembered smiling, he remembered his cheeks aching from the gesture. “Yes . . . I understand.” 

But I don’t understand why you left me, Kazuha thought, the memory fading. He shook his head slightly, focusing back onto Aether and Paimon, who helped chase his negative thoughts away. 

Aether had picked up a seashell and was showing it to an unimpressed Paimon. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Aether inquired wistfully, and Paimon snorted. “Paimon thinks it looks exactly like the million other shells around here,” she retorted dryly. “Paimon also thinks that Aether has the taste of an old man. Like Zhongli!” 

“You did not just say that!” Aether gasped in mock horror. “That’s it — come here, you emergency food!” Paimon squealed, flying away from Aether as he tried to grab at her. Their screams and laughter met Kazuha’s ears as the samurai watched the duo run around (or in Paimon’s case, flying). 

Aether eventually stumbled to a halt in front of Kazuha, panting softly. He wiped sweat from his brow, straightening up. “You don’t agree with Paimon, right, Kazuha?” Aether asked. “Look.” He held his hand out to Kazuha, who examined the seashell resting in the center of his palm. 

The seashell was a pretty color. It was a dark purple with streaks of lighter lilac covering the surface in a type of swirling pattern. Kazuha was reminded of Tomo’s eyes, and of another person, one who smelled like lightning and stars. Kazuha reached a hand out instinctively, his breath hitching. 

“Here. You can have it, if you want,” Aether offered. Kazuha smiled, grabbing a hold of the seashell gently. He cradled it with care, staring down at it for a moment. “Thank you,” Kazuha said. “It’s beautiful. I will treasure this gift, Aether.” 

Aether blushed faintly, waving his hands frantically. “Ah, please!” He babbled, seeming flustered. “It’s nothing, really. It’s just one single seashell, after all.” Aether smiled kindly at him. “But you’re welcome.” 

“Come along.” Kazuha nodded towards Aether and Paimon, pointing towards a cluster of rocks in the distance. “Our destination isn’t far,” he said, and Aether perked up, looking excited. 

“Race you there!” He exclaimed, running off. “Hey! No fair, you cheater! You got a head start!” Paimon screeched after him, quickly flying off to follow a cackling Aether. 

Kazuha watched the two scamper away, his heart twisting. He hid his smile with a hand, slipping the seashell into his pocket — the one that didn’t contain the photograph, that is. He wouldn’t want the precious image to get ruined, after all. 

Kazuha made his way after the chaotic pair, arriving at the rocks moments after they did. Paimon was fuming, scolding Aether for cheating, while the boy simply mocked her for being a sore loser. A part of Kazuha was reminded fondly of himself and Tomo. 

Kazuha laid down upon one of the rocks, stretching himself out with a sigh. He arched his back slightly, humming to himself, while Aether copied his actions. Paimon hovered above them, almost like a bothersome fly, and Kazuha smiled to himself at the comparison. It was wrong to think of Paimon in such a way — but it was humorous, as well.

“Rejoice, friends,” Kazuha said softly, lifting a hand up towards the sky. “The day is a good one. The wind is at peace, and so am I. The waves that strike the shore are unrelenting and steady — and in turn, we will be as well. This is a time for celebration, and I would like to thank you for being with me throughout it all.” 

“Couldn’t you have just said ‘thank you’ instead of going on some long, winding rant?” Paimon grumbled. “Beidou was right. Flowers really do come out of your mouth whenever you speak! It’s crazy. Paimon’s never seen anyone like you, Kazuha!” 

“Is that not the point of existence?” Kazuha lowered his hand, resting it across his chest. He closed his eyes, smiling fondly. “No one person is too similar to another. We are all unique in our own ways.” 

“You’re going to make Paimon’s brain explode,” Paimon mumbled. “I’m too hungry for this!” 

“Paimon, you ate less than two hours ago,” Aether pointed out, rolling his eyes. “That was a snack!” Paimon exclaimed. “You ordered everything off of the menu,” Aether deadpanned, and a silence lapsed out after that before Paimon giggled awkwardly. “Heh. Oops. Paimon forgot about that,” she murmured sheepishly, and Aether groaned.

He turned to look at Kazuha, who was lying peacefully across his rock, not batting an eye at the two’s quarrel. It was more than natural to him, at that point, and he found it to be static background noise more than anything. 

“Kazuha,” Aether said, and Kazuha perked an eye open, glancing towards Aether. Yes? His gaze seemed to say. 

Aether grinned at him. “Thank you for spending time with us,” he said. “And thank you for being there for me. You’re a good friend. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count. And for that, I’d like to show you my gratitude. So please — accept this.” 

Aether sat up, pulling something from his pocket. It was a bracelet, made of delicate-looking beads. The color scheme was stunning, and suited Kazuha’s taste — a pattern of red, gold, and orange. Kazuha opened his eyes fully, sitting up as well. His mouth parted in surprise, but he didn’t speak, allowing Aether to talk for him.

“I made this myself, so I apologize for the quality,” Aether murmured sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to give you it, though, no matter how it turned out. It’s a friendship bracelet. Have you ever heard of those?” 

“It’s a friendship bracelet, Kazuha. I read about it in one of the books you gave me. I spent forever collecting these materials, so I hope you like it. And if you don’t, then whatever! It’s not like it matters to me or anything!” 

“. . . Why are you still wearing that stupid thing? Take it off. I hate looking at it. I destroyed mine long ago, so you’re better off just trashing yours as well. Don’t tell me you’re going to be all sentimental with me, Kazuha. Are you getting weak?” 

The words echoed through Kazuha’s mind. Words from him. The memories flooded Kazuha’s brain, filling up his thoughts despite how hard he struggled against them. 

A fair, kind face filled with innocence peered over at Kazuha, offering him a carefully made present. Kazuha had accepted it tenderly and had placed it happily upon his wrist. He had laughed and smiled so much that day. It was one of the best birthdays he ever had. 

Though all good things had to come to an end, as he knew. That innocent face, now twisted into bitterness and anger, regarding Kazuha with disgust when before he’d felt nothing but fondness for the samurai. He had walked off that day, walked away from Kazuha, and even despite his better judgement, Kazuha never took off his bracelet. 

I will never throw it away. Never.

“I know what it is,” Kazuha told Aether after a moment, coming back to the present. 

Aether regarded him curiously. It was common for Kazuha to space out, drifting off into his own little world. Aether had stopped calling him out on it long ago; anyone who befriended Kazuha understood he could get absorbed with his musings. 

“I see.” Aether smiled, leaning closer. “Then, can I put it on for you?” He asked, and Kazuha’s breath caught, stuttering within his chest. His heart fluttered, and he swallowed, regarding Aether with a clouded gaze.

“Of course,” Kazuha whispered. 

Aether beamed. He moved closer, pulling Kazuha’s sleeve up carefully. He seemed surprised to see a bracelet already placed upon Kazuha’s wrist, colored in a dark purple and black hue. “Oh!” Aether exclaimed. “Did someone already give you a similar present?” He seemed embarrassed, blushing faintly. 

“Yes, but there is nothing to worry about. This was from an old friend, many years ago. A long time has passed since we’ve been together.” Kazuha stared out at the ocean beyond Aether, watching the waves lap at the shore. His chest constricted. The ocean reminded him of a past friend’s eyes. 

“Oh. Was it . . . Was it . . .” Aether’s voice faltered, and he fell silent.

Tomo was always a sensitive topic. No one liked to broach the subject of Kazuha’s best friend. They treated Kazuha like a porcelain doll, as if at any moment, he might break. And perhaps at one point that had been true; but he was stronger, now. He had to be. 

“No.” Kazuha met Aether’s gaze, offering him a reassuring smile, but it came off as sad and wistful instead of his original intent. 

Aether felt sympathy for Kazuha swell up inside of him. Kazuha was such a kind and pure person — he didn’t deserve to experience such sadness. Why did the world treat him so unfairly? Aether promised himself he’d never abandon Kazuha, not like everyone else had done. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aether offered. Kazuha hummed, his gaze flickering up towards the sky, examining the clouds floating by above. They were plump, fat and fluffy white things. 

“Your hair reminds me of the clouds, Kazuha. They’re the same color and everything. And I’m sure if we could touch the clouds, your hair would feel the exact same way. It’s . . . Pretty. But don’t let that inflate your ego or anything!” 

Kazuha laughed softly, the voice of his dearest ringing through his ears. “Thank you, Aether. You’re very kind.” 

Aether would listen. Kazuha knew he would. Aether would always be there for him, no matter what. But how could Kazuha explain things to him? How could Kazuha even begin to explain their story? It was such a long one, and it was a tragedy more than anything. Today wasn’t meant for tragedy, it wasn’t meant for sadness. 

Besides . . . Kazuha had never told anyone about him.

Not anyone but Tomo. Tomo was the only one who knew, and Tomo was gone. It was better if Kazuha just kept his own grievances to himself. He didn’t want to burden Aether with his issues; the other boy was troubled enough already. He deserved a break. 

“But there’s no need to discuss it,” Kazuha concluded. Aether studied him for a moment before nodding — he was always very observant, much like Kazuha himself, and he caught onto signs and emotions well. He knew when to pry and when he shouldn’t. 

“Okay. Just remember if you need someone, I’m here,” Aether told him solemnly. “Paimon too!” Paimon added, and her voice sounded sadder than usual. Paimon sometimes forgot that behind Kazuha’s kind eyes and gentle smile, there was a sad boy with a burdened heart. He was good at hiding things. 

Kazuha chuckled. “Thank you. Both of you. If you two ever need me, I’ll always be here. If you require me, call to the wind — I will be there.” Kazuha dipped his head. “ Always.”

Aether suddenly reached out, and Kazuha startled, his eyes widening slightly. Aether had patted his head, much like Beidou and Tomo would do. Kazuha glanced up at him in surprise, and Aether grinned at him. “Sorry,” he laughed. “I couldn’t resist!” 

Kazuha laughed, and found that he couldn’t stop laughing. He laughed so much his sides ached, and he hunched over, shaking his head. Soon enough, Paimon started to giggle as well, and it wasn’t long before Aether joined in. 

The three sat together, laughing hysterically, and Kazuha felt a steady sense of peace wash over him. 

Things like this — they felt right. Things were good, and he was happy. And even if something — or someone — was missing . . . Maybe it would be okay. Maybe things would still turn out just fine. 

When the trio finally stopped laughing, Aether reached out. He grabbed gently onto Kazuha’s hand, slipping the friendship bracelet over his wrist. It rested snugly on his frame, right beside the other one. 

“Thank you,” Kazuha murmured sincerely. “For everything.” 

Aether nudged him playfully. “No problem, you traveling bard,” he retorted, a grin on his face, and Kazuha grinned back at him, his heart seeming to positively soar. 

You all mean everything to me. 

[ 🍂 🍁 🍂 ] 

Kazuha eventually parted with Aether and Paimon, after evening had settled across the land of eternity. 

He watched the duo walk off, waving towards their retreating frames. As they disappeared into the distance, Kazuha felt a presence behind him. Nothing was lost on him. Nothing.

“Your attempt at an ambush is admirable,” Kazuha commented idly, brandishing his sword in a flourish of anemo energy. “But amateur at best.” 

Kazuha turned to face the man sneaking up behind him, leveling his blade with the person's throat. Kazuha’s kind red gaze had hardened; shifting into something more stoic and steely. Kazuha was not always the gentle, soothing poet most people knew him as. He had to have a darker side; otherwise, he’d have been dead long ago. 

“Woah, woah! Easy there, tiger! Or should I say kitten, since you’re not really a tiger . . . Hey, don’t look at me like that! You’re eyeing me up as if you’re going to cut me apart any second now. I beg of you, don’t. I really value my life, most of the time, anyway.” 

Kazuha sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “You are jousting with me, even when your life is in danger? And you have the gall to insult me, as well?” Kazuha arched his brow. “I don’t know whether to applaud you for your bravery, or to scold you for your stupidity. Are you simply courageous, or a fool?” 

“And I don’t know whether to take your words as a compliment, or as an insult.” The stranger chuckled a bit awkwardly. “Maybe both? Heh. Now can you please lower your sword? I’m not a threat. Would it make you feel better if I pinky promised it?” 

Is he serious? Kazuha wondered. Well, people reacted to the face of death in many ways, and this man seemed to resort to humor. Did he take anything seriously? Kazuha slowly lowered his sword, stifling another sigh. 

“Who are you, and what do you want?” Kazuha inquired. His sword vanished in a burst of anemo energy, and the man relaxed almost instantly, his tension easing up. 

“The name’s Childe, comrade! I’ve been looking for you. You’re Kaedehara Kazuha, are you not?” 

Childe? What kind of name is that? At Kazuha’s incredulous expression, Childe huffed. “It’s a nickname,” he clarified. “Don’t bully me.” Kazuha covered his mouth with a hand, shaking his head lightly to hide his amusement. Childe . . . ? As a nickname? Kazuha figured that in the end, it made sense. 

“You were looking for me?” Kazuha muttered after a pause. “I don’t recall ever meeting you before. What are your intentions, Childe?” 

“Well, we probably shouldn’t talk about it here.” Childe chuckled awkwardly, glancing around. “Let’s go to a restaurant or something, my treat! It’s your birthday today, isn’t it? Oh, wait, that made me sound like a stalker. I promise I’m not! If you’ll just let me explain, it’ll all be clear to you.” 

Despite Childe’s reassurance, Kazuha couldn’t help the alarm bells that went off within his mind. How did Childe know it was his birthday? Just how long had he been following Kazuha for? He definitely gave off ‘stalker’ vibes, and Kazuha didn’t like it one bit. He frowned, studying Childe closer. 

While Childe definitely wasn’t trustworthy, he also didn’t seem dangerous, either. Granted, Kazuha had to keep his guard up around him, but he didn’t fear for his life. Childe wasn’t capable of killing him, Kazuha was positive about that — and Childe didn’t seem like he wanted to kill Kazuha, either.

Kazuha had other things to do, but the day wasn’t over, yet. There was still time for him to attend to the rest of his business. He could entertain Childe, just for a little while. 

“Very well.” Kazuha nodded slowly. “Although I can not dedicate all of my time into our meeting. I have other matters to address eventually. Please keep that in mind and make haste.” 

Childe grinned wolfishly, offering Kazuha a sweeping bow. “Of course, of course!” He straightened back up. “Is there anywhere you’d like to eat at in particular, girly?” 

Kazuha’s expression soured. “I am a male.” 

“And I’m an adult, yet people still call me Childe. You don’t see me complaining though, do you?” Childe grinned, and Kazuha fixed him with a disinterested stare. “Okay, okay!” Childe relented, lifting his hands up feebly. “Point taken, no more girly.” 

After a moment of debate, they ended up settling on a secluded restaurant in a small town within the outskirts of Inazuma. 

Kazuha sat down in a booth across from Childe, who rested his chin on his hand, grinning at him. Childe seemed to always have a constant grin on his face; it was either that or a smirk. Kazuha found that it made him look a bit like a fox, and he was reminded of Russet, wondering where his traveling buddy had wandered off to. 

“So. Care to elaborate?” Kazuha asked, and Childe chuckled. “Can’t we decide on what to eat first?” He shot back. “Order whatever you’d like. The price doesn’t matter to me. I have plenty of mora.” 

Kazuha laughed faintly, unable to stop himself, and Childe eyed him in surprise. “Did I really say something that funny?” Childe asked, pouting slightly, and Kazuha hid his face, resisting the urge to snicker. “My apologies,” he murmured, quickly regaining his composure. 

Childe stared at him, clearly waiting for Kazuha to say more, so he continued. “I was just . . . Shocked. You have a lot of mora, is that it?” Kazuha smiled slightly, having to strain against laughing again. Childe huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course I do!” He exclaimed. “My job pays well.” 

“Is that so? And what do you work as?” Kazuha pressed. Childe faltered, looking away. “Uh . . . Well . . .” He laughed awkwardly, and Kazuha wanted to burst out laughing again. Childe had dug his own grave, falling right into Kazuha’s trap.

“I’m a . . . Toy maker.” 

“A toy maker?” 

“Indeed. It’s very embarrassing, but it’s true.” Childe rubbed the back of his neck, and Kazuha knew it was a big, fat, scorching hot pile of bullshit. However, he humored Childe. If the ginger wanted to keep secrets, so be it. Kazuha wasn’t in any position to probe him. 

The only thing he wanted to know was simple. And so, he asked again. “Why did you want to see me?” Kazuha demanded. “How do you know about me?” 

“Well, for quite a few months, your wanted poster was strewn all over Inazuma,” Childe deadpanned. “You got pretty famous.” 

Kazuha faltered. Right. Sometimes he forgot that he used to be a renowned criminal.

He fell silent, and Childe continued talking, filling up the silence. “But that’s not why I wanted to seek you out, I don’t care about your criminal record. I wanted to ask you about someone.” 

The pieces clicked into place, and Kazuha hummed, nodding slowly. “I see. You want to know about the Traveler, don’t you? They’re in Inazuma as we speak. I just met with them, as a matter of fact. If you hurry out of the restaurant and ask around, I’m sure you could find them soon enough.” 

Childe faltered, hesitating. He shook his head slowly, and Kazuha frowned. No? He wondered. Then who else could Childe possibly want to know about? There was no one that came to Kazuha’s mind; no one in specific, anyway. 

“Not them,” Childe mumbled. “I know the Traveler, I actually just talked to them recently, too. No, ah, this someone I want to discuss with you is much different.” 

Kazuha waved a hand expectantly, gesturing for Childe to keep talking. “Go on,” he urged patiently. 

“Have you heard of the Balladeer?” 

The question hung heavy in the air, and Kazuha’s eyes widened — proof that yes, he did in fact know about the Balladeer.

His mouth parted, and he could feel his heart leap. He hadn’t heard that name in forever. A rush of emotions crashed into him, slamming into his body like a tidal wave. A tsunami of feelings assaulted Kazuha, and he swallowed. 

“I—”

“Hello! May I take your orders?” 

Kazuha tensed, stiffening as he shifted his gaze towards the side. Their waiter stood before them, beaming down at them. They clearly didn’t seem to realize that they’d interrupted a crucial point in the conversation, appearing blissfully innocent.

Childe looked angry for a brief second, before his face shifted, snapping into a cheerful mask. Kazuha himself was well familiar with masks, and so he could read through them well. He saw past Childe’s constant bubbly persona. 

“Oh, I’ll just have a glass of water and Tonkotsu ramen,” Childe said, passing the waiter his menu. His smile could be reward-winning; it glittered like the brightest diamond, but Kazuha knew better. The smile didn’t reach Childe’s eyes, which held no twinkle in them whatsoever. Kazuha suppressed a shiver. 

“And for you, sir?” The waiter turned to face Kazuha, who faltered. 

“A cup of sake and some salmon daikon, please,” Kazuha murmured, passing his own menu to the waiter, who accepted it with a smile. “Of course! That will be coming right up!” They chirped animatedly, hurrying off to take their orders to the kitchen. 

Once they were far enough away, Childe groaned, rubbing his face with a hand. “Waiters always show up at the worst damn times, don’t they?” He grumbled. “Anyway, back to the topic we were discussing earlier, ahem . . . Do you know about the Balladeer?” 

Childe was analyzing him. Kazuha could feel it; Childe’s gaze was sizing him up, trying to read him. Kazuha wiped every last expression off of his face, steeling himself into his usual façade of nonchalance. He placed his hands into his lap, taking a deep breath. 

“Of course I know of him. Who doesn’t? As the Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers, he’s a brutal and formidable person indeed. Wouldn’t you agree, Childe?” Kazuha met the ginger’s gaze evenly, and it was then he knew.

You are no toy maker, Childe. Not even close.

“Oh, of course!” Childe beamed, his grin rivaling the sun’s rays. “I was simply curious, though, and I’m sure you can understand my confusion . . . Just why did the Balladeer have a photo of you in his office?” 

Kazuha froze. The world seemed to slow around him. Things blurred out of focus; the gentle chatter within the restaurant dulled and faded from Kazuha’s ears. Even Childe slipped away from him. All Kazuha could focus on were his words, ringing over and over again within his mind.

“Just why did the Balladeer have a photo of you in his office?” 

Despite his better nature, Kazuha couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered. He couldn’t stop the way his chest tightened, his throat closing up like hands had wrapped around it. His stomach coiled, butterflies dancing around inside of him. It was hard to think; it was hard to process anything other than— 

Happiness.

Even after all of this time, even after everything, his beloved hadn’t forgotten about him. 

Kunikuzushi . . . You remembered me, Kazuha thought, digging his nails into his bandaged palms. 

“Kazuha?” Childe asked, snapping him back to the present. “I’m sorry, was the question too blunt?” Though Childe acted sympathetic and genuine enough, Kazuha knew it was all fake — an act. He refused to fall for any of Childe’s clever tricks. 

“. . . I’m alright,” Kazuha murmured. “The question was just fine to ask. I’m simply as confused as you. I don’t know why he would have a photo of me in his office. Besides, just why were you there to begin with?”

Kazuha leaned closer, staring up at Childe with a gleaming red gaze the color of blood. “Why would a toy maker be inside of the Balladeer’s private office, I wonder?” 

Childe faltered, and Kazuha was positive he was cursing himself out within his mind. Childe had slipped up; Kazuha had caught his lie and exposed him for it. Nonetheless, he still tried in vain to cling onto his dignity. 

“Perhaps he had requested me to make something for him,” Childe murmured. “Did you know the Balladeer has a fascination with dolls?” 

“What do you want, Childe?” Kazuha’s tone sharpened, and Childe relented. 

“The Balladeer is in possession of something important that does not belong to him. It’s not safe within his hands. As long as he has this crucial item, every person within the entirety of Teyvat is in danger. Do you understand, Kazuha?” Childe frowned, staring daggers into a frigid Kazuha. 

“And what does that have to do with me?” Kazuha asked, his tone made of ice.

“No one can reach the Balladeer. Anyone who goes looking for him mysteriously disappears.” Childe’s tone sounded dry. “So I decided to intervene, out of the goodness of my toy maker's heart. My search has taken me here, to Inazuma, and now to you.” 

“I figured if there is anyone who must know where the Balladeer is — it’s got to be you.” 

“All over a simple photo?” Kazuha shook his head. “You’re far too hopeful, Childe.” 

“Even if you don’t know exactly where he is, you might have a hunch of where he could be,” Childe retorted, not missing a single beat. “If the Balladeer needed to go into hiding, where would he go, Kazuha?” 

Anger ignited within Kazuha, but he crushed it, snuffing it like a candle being blown out. He smiled at Childe, and the gesture was sharper than the blade of a knife. “Like I would ever tell you, Harbinger.” 

Childe’s expression darkened, and he looked dangerous, then — living up entirely to his title as the Eleventh Harbinger. Childe never once backed down from a challenge, and he certainly never backed down from a fight. If Kazuha wanted to do things the hard way, Childe was more than happy to oblige him.

Childe loomed over Kazuha, grinning down at him. “Don’t be like that,” he insisted. “I know you want to protect your lover boy, but he isn’t worth it. Think about it this way: by doing this, you’ll be saving plenty of lives. Do you want the blood of innocents on your conscience?” 

Kazuha eyed Childe up and down, clicking his tongue. “My hands are tainted with blood,” he replied evenly. “As are yours. Neither of us are innocent. Your attempt at guilt tripping won’t work on me.” 

“I’m not talking about just a few people,” Childe hissed. “I’m talking about entire nations. Cities will fall underneath him. He will bring carnage to our world, and you don’t bat an eye. Why? Whatever love you still harbor for him, cast it to the side. Love is not more important than maintaining the balance within Teyvat.”

“You’re a good liar, Childe, but not good enough. You couldn’t care less about what happens to Teyvat — don’t try to play that card on me. You live for chaos, for battle and bloodshed. I have seen your type many times before. But if those you care about come into the crossfire, suddenly, that urge to see red dies inside of you. Am I correct?” Kazuha met Childe’s gaze, and Childe scowled, looking away. 

“Fine. Yes. I need your help because if the Balladeer gets what he wants, my family could be in jeopardy,” Childe muttered. “So many families will be at stake. Does that not bother you?” 

Kazuha sighed, drumming his fingers onto the table. “Just what does the Balladeer possess, Childe? What is making him so much of a threat? Or are you merely upset that the Tsaritsa’s puppet has broken free from his strings?” 

Childe looked away. “I can’t disclose that information, especially not here,” he muttered. “But look — if you comply, I promise you I won’t kill the Balladeer. His safety will be ensured if you make things easy for me.” 

Kazuha giggled, genuine amusement bubbling inside of him. “You think you could challenge him?” Kazuha inquired, and Childe huffed. “I reckon I could,” Childe mumbled. 

You are even more naïve than I thought, or perhaps suicidal. 

Kazuha leaned closer. “I want the photo,” he said. “Give me the photo, and I’ll tell you where I think he could be.” 

Childe faltered, before he huffed. “Alright. But you better be honest — if I don’t find at least a clue in the area you direct me to, I won’t be happy. Besides, it’s rude to trick people.” 

“Much like how you attempted to trick me?” Kazuha retorted breezily, and Childe laughed. “Ah, touchè,” he hummed, pulling something carefully out of his pocket. 

“Consider this a birthday gift from your new buddy Childe,” the Harbinger exclaimed cheerfully, passing Kazuha the photograph.

Kazuha glanced down at the picture, his heart clenching. 

It was a photo of him, alright. Clear as day. He was looking towards the camera, a wide smile on his face. He seemed so happy — and he had been happy. It was the happiest he’d been in ages. Kazuha’s throat felt tight, and he realized he was close to crying. He wiped the emotions away, forcing himself to remain blank; he didn’t want Childe to see his tears.

Kazuha could remember when this photo was taken.

It was his birthday. Kunikuzushi had wanted to take a picture of him, as a memoir, and Kazuha was powerless to argue. He struggled saying ‘no’ to Kunikuzushi. He always ended up doing whatever the other asked of him, regardless of what it was. 

Autumn leaves surrounded Kazuha in the background, caught mid-breeze — Kazuha traced a finger over the surface. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still feel the phantom caress of the wind, brushing against his flushed cheeks.

“You have a chance of finding him at Shakkei Pavilion.” 

[ 🍂 🍁 🍂 ] 

Many Years Ago 

Kazuha was a wanderer at heart, and as a wanderer, he sometimes found himself in strange or unusual situations. 

It wasn’t uncommon for him to stumble across more than he could chew. That was why he had legs; they enabled him to run if need be. And that was why the wind spoke to him, whispering of any nearby dangers. If Kazuha just listened to the signs of nature, he’d be protected from any possible harm.

Tonight, the breeze was calling to him, murmuring within his ears. Enticing him down a path not trodden by many others. Kazuha was always a sucker for mystery, and an even bigger sucker for a good adventure.

He followed the wind’s call, and his steps took him to a seemingly abandoned pavilion. 

Autumn leaves covered every crevice and corner of the place. It was beautiful; Kazuha had never seen anything like it. He gazed around in wonder, his eyes wide with a gleeful sort of fascination. Why was such a stunning place abandoned and discarded, as if it were nothing more than a piece of trash? 

Kazuha’s footsteps echoed, eerily loudly, across the ground as he walked. Each step he took was light and delicate, careful to not make too much noise. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was trespassing, somehow.

That was when Kazuha smelled it; the tang of stars, of something light and mysterious. It was enticing; a scent had never appeared to Kazuha quite like it. And so he obviously followed it, compelled to find the source. 

He didn’t expect to find a sleeping boy, laid out across the maple leaves. 

Kazuha’s heart had skipped a beat. Was the boy dead? He seemed so perfectly still. His whole body was limp, as rigid as a statue. And his skin; it was as pale as snow. Kazuha reckoned it would be cold to the touch, like ice. He was certain this boy was some kind of frozen mummy, but then, he moved.

His chest rose and fell steadily. Up, and then down. He was breathing, and that meant he was alive. But why was he napping here, of all places? Wasn't there anywhere else he could go to? 

As Kazuha approached, he studied the boy closer. He was gorgeous; the prettiest person Kazuha had ever laid eyes on. His hair was long, flowing freely down his shoulders, and it was the color of ink. When the sunshine hit his locks just right, Kazuha saw a faint blue sheen within those strands. Such an unusual color — yet it was so beautiful. 

Oh, and his face . . . He was handsome, that was for sure. Kazuha couldn’t help but feel flustered just looking at him. He knew it was wrong. They were strangers, and the boy was locked in a deep slumber. Kazuha shouldn’t have felt in such a way, he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

He had reached a hand out tentatively, resting it lightly onto the boy’s shoulder. “Excuse me?” He began hesitantly. 

The boy didn’t stir, and Kazuha had to move closer, this time shaking him a bit roughly. “Excuse me,” he called out more loudly. His voice felt strangely loud within the empty pavilion. 

That was when the boy’s eyes fluttered open, and he gasped softly, his gaze darting instantly towards a startled Kazuha. 

His eyes were awe-inspiring. A dark blue, like the ocean, or the sky during a storm. When Kazuha peered closer, he saw flecks of purple swirling within those bottomless depths. Everything about this boy was so mysterious, so otherworldly, and yet Kazuha couldn’t get enough of him. 

Kazuha’s mouth parted, his lips feeling dry. “Why are you sleeping here?” He inquired softly. “Don’t you have anywhere else to go?” 

The boy stared at him for a moment. Kazuha eventually figured he probably wasn’t going to respond; but then, he shook his head slowly, and some of Kazuha’s worry faded away. “Oh.” Kazuha blinked, and he reached a hand out, offering it to the boy. 

“If you don’t have anywhere else to go, come with me. My name is Kaedehara Kazuha. What’s yours?” 

The boy paused, seeming to think for a long moment — as if he were trying to remember. He sat up slowly, his movements sluggish and delayed, almost robotic in nature. He stared down at his hands, examining his body as if it were something foreign to him. 

“I am . . . Kunikuzushi,” he whispered, and Kazuha clung onto the sound of his voice. Light and soft, like a melody, and yet uncertain all at the same time, as if he weren’t used to hearing himself speak. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Kunikuzushi.” Kazuha smiled down at the boy, who stared up at him with an unreadable expression. Kunikuzushi eyed Kazuha’s outstretched hand before slowly reaching out. 

He slipped his hand into Kazuha’s, and the Kaedehara boy lifted the puppet up, pulling him away from his eternal prison. 

“Let’s go,” Kazuha insisted, and Kunikuzushi watched him for a long while, something within his gaze shifting. 

“. . . Okay,” he murmured, and he followed a cheerful Kazuha out of the Shakkei Pavilion — out of the place his creator had abandoned him at. 

[ 🍂 🍁 🍂 ] 

Present Day 

Kazuha tread slowly up the steps of the familiar path, a trail he had been forced to take one too many times. Kazuha dreaded walking this way, he dreaded it, yet — nowadays, it provided him a strange sense of comfort. 

Kazuha took a deep breath, looking down at the grave before him. “Hello, Tomo,” he said quietly, his voice filled with pain. 

He could picture Tomo standing beside him, grinning impishly down at him with that stupid look in his purple gaze. Tomo would crack some joke, some kind of witty pun, and Kazuha would smile despite himself. Kazuha would laugh, and it would come so naturally, because Tomo never failed to make him happy. Well . . . He’d failed once, but only once. 

Kazuha sat down in front of the sword that marked Tomo’s grave, his knees feeling weak. 

His first birthday without his best friend was spent on the run. 

A tired and grief-ridden Kazuha hadn’t even realized it was his birthday until the date was shown to him. He didn’t feel any happiness, nor a shred of relief. He’d survived another year, but the person he cared for more than his own life hadn’t. 

That day, Kazuha had simply cried. He spent his birthday alone, curled up in some desolate cave, sobbing his heart out. He had clutched an ownerless vision close to his chest, feeling its cold shell. His wails had echoed throughout the forest, but not a single person came to comfort him.

This year, it was different. Things were better. Kazuha had people who cared for him; people who were there for him when he needed their support. He had a system of people he could rely on, through anything. He wasn’t alone — not anymore.

Kazuha smiled weakly. 

Tomo would have been happy. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, old friend?” Kazuha murmured. He glanced up at the sky, which had darkened completely into night. A chill had settled over the air, but Kazuha’s thick clothing protected him from the cold. He looked back down at Tomo’s grave.

“Today is my birthday,” Kazuha went on softly. “I thought of you more times than I can count. I miss you so much it hurts. When I think of you, I struggle to breathe. When I think of how much I miss you, I struggle to even keep my heart beating. For a while, I thought my life was meaningless. What was its purpose without those that I loved?” 

“But I’ve found more people to love. I’ve opened my heart up once again. I know you would be proud of me. I just . . . Can not help but feel sad still. Perhaps that makes me selfish. How could I still be sad, when I have so many good friends? Other people have it far worse than I do, and yet . . .” 

Kazuha pulled the photograph from his pocket; the one of him, Tomo, and their friends. Tears filled his eyes, blurring his vision. He wiped them away with shaky fingers, a strained chuckle escaping him.

“And yet I can’t stop my emotions,” Kazuha confessed. “They say time heals all wounds, but mine have not faded in the slightest. I do not know if this will ever get better. Sometimes it feels like it does. Sometimes I can think clearly and freely, and then other times, grief swallows me until I can’t even bring myself to leave my room.” 

“I know you would want me to be happy, so that’s why I’m trying to be. For you. I’ll be strong for the both of us, just like how you were that day.” Kazuha sniffled, stifling the sob that threatened to rip from his chest. 

“Kazuha.” 

Kazuha’s eyes widened, and his head snapped up. He looked around wildly, his heart coming to a stop. He scanned the area around him, but he was alone. There wasn’t a single soul here — not a living presence around besides himself. 

“Happy birthday, Kaz.” 

Kazuha covered his mouth with a hand, his body beginning to shake. Like a leaf caught within a storm, Kazuha quivered, turning his head ever-so-slightly to the side. Could it be? Am I imagining things? Is it really you? Could it actually be you? Am I dreaming? 

Tomo smiled down at him, leaning casually against his grave. 

Kazuha remained frozen on the ground, a strangled sob escaping him. 

Tomo looked the same as he did when he left Kazuha. His messy blonde hair tied into a disheveled ponytail. His purple eyes shining, oh so brightly, never once fading out. He was grinning down at Kazuha, that familiar grin which the samurai loved. It was him, it was Tomo, it was really him. 

Kazuha staggered to his feet, rushing forward. He reached his arms out, but he was unable to hug Tomo — instead, his hands closed around empty air. Kazuha faltered, a soft gasp of pain escaping him, and Tomo sent him a sad smile. “It was a nice try, Kaz,” he told him fondly. 

His voice sounded far-off. Distorted. Looking closer, Kazuha realized Tomo was entirely transparent. Kazuha could see through him. The poor boy felt like he’d been hit by a truck, his expression crumbling. His lip quivered, and Tomo continued to smile at him. “Don’t cry, Kaz. It’s your birthday, after all.” 

“Tomo,” Kazuha sobbed, pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes. “Tomo.” 

“That’s my name, princess.” Tomo laughed, stepping closer to him. He looked down at Kazuha, and Kazuha wanted to take his hand. He wanted to hold Tomo, to hug him close and to never let go. He wanted to keep Tomo with him, forever and ever. It wasn’t fair that they couldn’t be together — it wasn’t fair.

“Don’t look so sad, Kaz. We’ll meet again. I promise. Have I ever lied to you?” Tomo beamed down at him, and Kazuha sniffed, smiling bitterly. 

“No,” he murmured. “You haven’t. But why — how are you—”

“Like I was gonna miss my best friend’s birthday.” Tomo’s laughter filled up the forest, the laughter Kazuha had so desperately missed. The laughter he thought he’d never hear again. It warmed his heart, calmed the ache within his chest.

“I have a gift to give you, Kaz.” Tomo extended a hand, and in the center of his palm was a glowing blue flower — the same type of flower that surrounded his grave. “Go on. You can take it. I made sure you’d be able to,” Tomo insisted. “It’s to say thank you. For being my friend, and for fulfilling my wish. You achieved my ambition, Kaz. Thank you for facing the lightning’s glow with me. I’m just sorry I wasn’t actually there for it.” 

Kazuha accepted the flower, and sure enough, he could actually feel it. It was cold to the touch, the petals soft beneath his fingers. It smelled sweet, and faintly of Tomo. Like grass and sunshine and candy. Kazuha placed it gently behind his ear, looking up towards Tomo. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. It won’t ever wilt or die, so don’t worry about that.” Tomo waved a hand. “However, we’re running on borrowed time, Kaz. I’m afraid I can’t stay with you for much longer. But you’re used to me leaving by now, right?” 

Kazuha huffed, staring down at the ground. He didn’t need to respond — the answer was obvious enough. 

“I’m always with you, Kazuha. And hey, like I said, we’ll meet again. Don’t be too sad, ‘kay? Whenever you need me, I’ll be waiting right here.” Tomo grinned at him, and Kazuha looked up at him, his vision blurry with unshed tears. 

Stay with me. 

“I’ll see you on the other side, princess.” Tomo waved gently towards him, beginning to fade. As his outline disappeared, Kazuha ran desperately forward, trying to grab onto him. “Tomo! No, wait!” Kazuha cried out. 

No matter how much he tried, there was no stopping it. Tomo was gone as quickly as he’d come. Kazuha stared at the place he’d disappeared, an empty feeling settling over him. He lifted a hand up slowly, feeling the flower that rested within his hair, proving that the whole encounter was in fact real. 

Kazuha believed in fate. And if Tomo said they’d meet again, then they would.

Of course he’d pop up on Kazuha’s birthday. Of course. Kazuha should have expected it. It was a very Tomo thing to do. Even when he was dead, he was finding ways to defy the rules of the afterlife, all for his best friend. Kazuha smiled, a soft laugh escaping him. 

His attention was diverted by a soft meow. He turned, glancing down to see Tama nuzzling against him. 

Tama was Tomo’s cat, and she often lingered beside his grave, laying across the sun-kissed earth in front of his sword. Kazuha would bring her treats or toys, but this time, he was empty-handed. 

He bent down, petting the white cat fondly. “Hello again, dear,” Kazuha murmured. “Did you see your owner, too? He’s so silly, isn’t he?” 

Tama peered up at Kazuha with big blue eyes, and she purred loudly, seeming to agree with him. Kazuha smiled with amusement, scratching underneath the cat’s chin. She was so cute, and she always comforted Kazuha whenever he broke down crying in front of Tomo’s grave. 

He settled back down, Tama curling up into his lap, and rested his back against Tomo’s grave. He would spend some more time here, just thinking. This place helped clear his mind, and after his brief reunion with Tomo, he definitely needed some time to think. 

Kazuha didn’t know how long he spent there, simply petting Tama and humming idly to himself. It was so tranquil; and he could swear he still smelled Tomo lingering around nearby. He could swear he still felt his friend’s spirit, watching him. 

Eventually, when Kazuha began to grow tired, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion, he decided to go find somewhere to sleep.

He had slept at Tomo’s grave before, but he didn’t think that would be a good idea tonight. He would probably search for a hotel, or maybe stop by the Kamisato estate and seek residence there. It was better than sleeping on the cold, hard ground. 

Kazuha parted ways with Tama, bidding the little cat goodbye. He would be back, and she knew he would. Kazuha always returned, like clockwork. It didn’t matter where in the world he roamed — he never forgot about those dearest to him. In the end, he would always return to his home. 

“Farewell.” Kazuha waved at Tama, and at Tomo’s grave. He lingered for a brief moment, nostalgia panging through him. Tomo, wherever you are now, I promise we will be reunited. Just wait for me, Kazuha thought, turning on his heel.

As he walked away into the night, a transparent figure watched him go, grinning fondly. Tomo lifted a hand up weakly, waving goodbye to Kazuha. 

Once Kazuha vanished into the distance, Tomo too disappeared — leaving Tama all alone, curled up into a ball in front of Tomo’s grave. 

[ 🍂 🍁 🍂 ] 

Kazuha didn’t know how long he had been walking for. His feet were growing tired, exhaustion soon weighing in on him. 

He sighed, brushing his messy bangs from his eyes. The moon was high up in the sky, casting its pale glow down onto the land. Kazuha allowed it to guide him, trailing aimlessly along, his feet aching with pain. 

His eyes were sore and raw from crying, puffy from his excessive tears. Kazuha wiped at his face. It was probably red and patchy. He presumed that he looked like a mess, but it wasn’t as if he could clean himself up anytime soon. 

Kazuha was so distracted with his musings, he almost missed it. Almost. But nothing was lost on Kaedehara Kazuha. The boy was too in-sync with nature to let anything go. 

The faint sound of bells rang through the trees, and Kazuha’s heart skipped a beat, and then two. 

Kazuha turned just in time to see a figure emerge from the shadows. His chest tightened, and he felt as if someone were stepping on him — crushing him and constricting his every breath. His heart was stuttering, staggering within him as if he were dying at this very moment. 

The Balladeer’s dark blue eyes met Kazuha’s, and he grinned. “Kazuha.” 

Kazuha’s eyes flooded with tears for perhaps the millionth time that day. He never cried so much, not usually, but now he could hardly keep his composure. It was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand, falling away from him entirely, and he was powerless to stop it. 

Kazuha rushed forward, nearly tripping over his own feet. He threw his arms over the familiar form of Kunikuzushi, hugging him tightly, and the boy didn’t protest, allowing Kazuha to cling onto him.

“You came back,” Kazuha sobbed out. You came back for me. 

“Of course I did.” Kunikuzushi rolled his eyes, slowly wrapping his arms around Kazuha. “Do you really think I’d miss your birthday, Kazuha?” 

Kazuha smiled wistfully, tightening his grip on Kunikuzushi. He felt weak from the emotions seizing him. It was all too much. Kunikuzushi was here, with him, and it was all Kazuha had ever wanted and more. He wanted to collapse from the sheer relief he felt. 

“Will you stay with me?” Kazuha whispered.

Kunikuzushi pulled back slightly to look at him, and the two stared at one another for a long moment — blue eyes colliding with red. “I’ll stay with you for the night,” Kunikuzushi promised him. 

Just for the night. Kazuha felt disappointment wash over him, but he expected it. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping for more. “The morning?” He inquired feebly, and Kunikuzushi hesitated. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered, and Kazuha smiled. That was good enough for him. 

Kazuha grabbed a hold of Kunikuzushi’s hand, holding onto him tightly. He tugged the other boy off, towards the nearby beach, and Kunikuzushi followed after him without protest. It was Kazuha’s birthday, so he would indulge the samurai in (almost) anything he wanted. 

When they reached the beach, Kazuha pulled him down to the sand, and they sat down together, side by side. They faced the ocean and the night sky far above their heads; it was a beautiful sight, one that Kunikuzushi doubted he would ever see again. But no matter how beautiful the world was, it could never compare to Kazuha himself. 

Kazuha leaned against him, resting his head on Kunikuzushi’s shoulder. “I knew you’d come back for me,” Kazuha said softly. “The wind whispered it to me. I knew it. I knew I wasn’t waiting for you in vain. Kuni . . .” 

Kunikuzushi grabbed Kazuha’s hand gently, squeezing it. “You don’t need to say anything else,” he murmured. He was being uncharacteristically gentle, uncharacteristically soft and tender. His gaze was filled with nothing but affection and — love, and it was everything Kazuha dreamed of. 

Kazuha didn’t know how long he had spent, praying for this very moment to happen. 

Ever since Kunikuzushi left him that fateful day, when the leaves turned red, Kazuha had never been the same. But he was determined. And he was patient. Oh-so patient. He could wait, and he would wait. For however long it took for Kunikuzushi to return to him.

Kazuha didn’t understand why he left; not at first. He’d been so hurt and confused. In the months leading up to his disappearance, Kunikuzushi had grown colder. More harsh and cruel. He usually directed that brutality elsewhere, but sometimes it slipped out and unleashed upon Kazuha. Maybe that was another reason why Kunikuzushi had left him. 

He knew Kunikuzushi wanted power. He craved it. He wanted to push himself past his limits, to ascend to even higher levels of greatness. But he was already perfect to Kazuha; he was stunning as he was. Kunikuzushi didn’t seem to agree with him. 

When Kunikuzushi made his mind up about something, it was pointless to get him to change it. From the moment Kunikuzushi learned of the Fatui’s existence, Kazuha had lost him. Kunikuzushi’s path diverged from his own; they could not walk along the same road, no matter how much Kazuha wanted them to. 

The boy didn’t know the details of what his lover did. He didn’t want to ask; he figured he had an idea, based on what Aether told him. And he didn’t approve — not one bit. He wanted to bring it up, wanted to confront Kunikuzushi, but the frustrated words always died on his tongue, every single time. 

They never got to see each other. Why would Kazuha ruin the moment by starting an argument? So he kept quiet, musing over his questions to himself, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together within his mind. 

“I have a gift for you, Kazuha,” Kunikuzushi told him suddenly, and Kazuha perked up, turning to glance up at him. 

“A gift?” Kazuha echoed softly, his brow furrowing. “What gift could you possibly have to give me? It may be my birthday, but you know I have no need for presents. I—”

Kunikuzushi glanced up at him pointedly, and Kazuha got the hint without needing to be told a single word. ‘Shut up,’ Kunikuzushi seemed to say. Kazuha fell silent, and Kunikuzushi pulled something from his pocket, holding it in the center of his palm.

“Happy birthday, Kazuha.” 

Kazuha’s eyes widened as he stared at the ring resting within Kunikuzushi’s hand. It was beautiful, made of only the finest gold. There was a maple leaf patterned in an amber gem at the top. Kunikuzushi must have gone through a lot of trouble for this. 

“Kuni . . . You didn’t have to do this,” Kazuha murmured breathlessly. His throat felt oddly tight, and it was hard to really process anything. The ring was stunning, one of the prettiest things Kazuha had ever seen. And it was a gift; a gift all for him and only him. 

“. . . I don’t care,” Kunikuzushi muttered. “I did it anyway. Do you have a problem? If you don’t like it, then it’s whatever. I don’t care.” Kunikuzushi looked away, and Kazuha noticed a faint blush painted across his pale cheeks. 

“I love it, Kunikuzushi.” Kazuha leaned over, placing a gentle kiss onto Kunikuzushi’s reddened cheek, and the boy huffed, only growing even more flustered. “I told you before, don’t call me that!” He snapped. “It’s not Kunikuzushi, it’s Scaramouche.” 

“Ah, my apologies.” Kazuha covered his mouth with a hand. “ Scaramouche, thank you.” 

Kunikuzushi — Scaramouche — rolled his eyes for the millionth time that night. But he had a small smile resting on his face, nonetheless. “Ah, it was no big deal. Anything I want, I get,” Scaramouche said wryly. “And that means anything you want, you get it, too.” 

“Is that so?” Kazuha raised a brow, and Scaramouche nodded with all the confidence in the world. “Of course,” hs stated matter-of-factly. 

“Then I want you.” Kazuha smiled plainly, and Scaramouche nearly choked on air.

He startled, covering his face and letting out an aggravated exhale. “Kazuha, you’re insufferable,” he grumbled, and the samurai merely giggled. “Yet you love me anyway,” he remarked cheerfully.

The blush never left Scaramouche’s face as he sighed; he didn’t argue with Kazuha’s statement because he couldn’t. He really did love Kazuha, and that fact was painfully obvious. Scaramouche didn’t treat a single person the way he treated Kazuha. 

“Give me your hand,” Scaramouche ordered, and Kazuha obeyed without complaint. Scaramouche slipped the ring onto his finger, and Kazuha beamed, admiring the way it snugly fit him. It felt right, it felt perfect, and Kazuha couldn’t be happier.

“Now I have two pieces of jewelry from you,” Kazuha exclaimed. “This truly is an amazing birthday.” 

Scaramouche’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Two gifts from me?” He mumbled. Kazuha pulled up his sleeve, revealing his friendship bracelets, and Scaramouche’s eyes widened. “You kept it?” He seemed shocked. Did he assume Kazuha had discarded it? He would never. 

“Of course I did.” Kazuha smiled. “I wouldn’t dream of giving it up for anything. I cherish it as dearly as the day I got it.” 

Scaramouche glanced away, hating the way Kazuha made him feel. Kazuha made him weak, and any weaknesses needed to be destroyed. Scaramouche knew that was the rational option. He knew he should probably kill Kazuha; he should have done it ages ago. 

And yet, here the boy still was, looking at him as if Scaramouche were his whole world. 

Scaramouche couldn’t kill him. He could kill his subordinates, his comrades, he could betray those that trusted him and he could spill the blood of various innocents — but he wouldn’t raise a hand against Kazuha. He refused. And he wouldn’t let a single soul harm his lover; he promised himself that. 

Scaramouche brushed a strand of hair behind Kazuha’s ear. “Where’d the flower come from?” He asked idly. “It looks . . . Nice.” 

“Thank you.” Kazuha blushed, and the red tint to his cheeks made him look even prettier beneath the moonlight. “An old friend gifted it to me,” he explained, a wistful look entering his gaze.

“Hmm.” Scaramouche hummed thoughtfully, looking up towards the sky. “Well, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come sooner, Kazuha. But I—”

Kazuha leaned closer, grabbing a hold of Scaramouche. He tugged the Balladeer into him, and their lips connected, cutting off whatever Scaramouche was about to say next.

Scaramouche tensed at first, not used to being touched or kissed, but he gradually relaxed. His lips moved, and he kissed Kazuha back with earnest, tangling his fingers through the white-haired boy’s hair. 

Kissing Scaramouche after being so long away from him was like a breath of fresh air. Kazuha felt his heart soaring, his spirits flying. He never wanted this moment to end. If every birthday was like this, then maybe he’d start looking forward to them more. 

Scaramouche tasted the same as Kazuha remembered. Like the stars, and everything cold and icy. Kazuha warmed him, though; he eased the frigid nature of Scaramouche’s heart, balancing everything out. 

He eventually had to pull away to catch his breath, a soft gasp escaping him. Scaramouche fixed Kazuha with a soft gaze, and he reached out, brushing his thumb against Kazuha’s cheek. Kazuha leaned into the touch, soaking up the affection Scaramouche provided him. 

“Kazuha.” Scaramouche’s voice was soft, and the boy hummed, looking up towards him curiously. 

Scaramouche stared at him for a long moment. Nothing lasted for eternity. Eternity was a prison, a mere glorified cage — Scaramouche despised it. Though he couldn’t dispel the urge forming within him, and perhaps it was also a part of his creator’s will, but . . . He wanted this moment to last for an eternity. He wanted this time with Kazuha to last for an eternity. 

Scaramouche would do anything for him. He would destroy cities, make nations fall at his feet, all if it meant protecting Kazuha. He would grow stronger, rise to new and unfathomable heights, and he would keep Kazuha at his side through it all.

Kazuha, his precious maple leaf, Kazuha, the one being that Scaramouche wanted to protect. The one being that Scaramouche found himself wanting to be good for.

“Happy birthday.” 

Kazuha giggled, and he shifted to lean against Scaramouche, resting his head against the Balladeer’s shoulder. “You said that already, but thank you. Now I have a request . . . May I utter a poem for you? Inspiration has struck me, and literature has no bounds. When inspiration crawls into my mind, I must let it out.” 

Scaramouche laughed, the sound echoing out into the night. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually laughed genuinely. Kazuha always had a way of bringing out the light within him. “Go ahead, Kazu. Spill it.” 

Sitting underneath the moonlight, with the ocean lapping close beside them, Kazuha stared at Scaramouche. He felt motivation coursing through him, his heart fluttering, and his mouth parted, his stomach erupting with butterflies. 

“Our fates intertwined, my heart sings the peaceful song, soft breeze brought along.”