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Of course, they would be met by silence.
Gorou only averted his eyes on the tatami floor; Itto took it better - just a bit - reaching out to his significant other's shoulder, to which Gorou had hesitated inching away from.
"Ah," was the first syllable that came out from your throat, to which the two men's ears perked up to, "Where are my manners?"
A grim, thin line formed by your lips, "Congratulations."
Gorou had a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless, "Thank you." Itto, however, beamed with pride, petting Gorou's hair, full of affection, and his eyes are the most loving, "See? Of course everyone would understand, we've been at it for a while now!"
"Oh, were you?"
A dry chuckle from you brought them back to attention, "I guess that's everyone's blessings then."
"We really wanted to tell you, y'know, since you're one of Gorou's trusted accomplices and all!"
The ring on your fourth finger was still there, and, like always, today had to be one of the days where you unconsciously reach for its metallic feel out of habit - a little rusty and cold, the same way you did whenever you see Gorou's smile from every victory you all had.
"You would have been the loveliest bride,"
was what the village elders have been saying recently, the new alternative reply to your "Good morning."
(And it's an alienating experience whenever someone would say, "There are many more fishes present at sea.", because the sun melting off someone's wings would be the most different from the moon lulling her beloved waves back to her arms.)
A subordinate's "Are you alright?" for the third time today became the last hit, and it was in the one of the warehouses far, far away from any commotion. A one in a ten kind of chance if anybody were to hear knees thudding on the wooden planks, with the craters and storage boxes flying about, the only comfort accessible being a fellow soldier's words.
But even then, her soothing "Don't cry now," does so little when the world is quiet and deaf of all that has happened lately.
The worst thing was, no one would even be able to hate his new lover. Itto was warm, so bright, one wouldn't have to wonder falling in love for his disposition and the biggest of hearts, and that possibly they were the luckiest with each other, enough to laugh off the oaths you have kept and silently muttered in your dreams.
The worst thing was, Gorou's back was never not broad. Sometimes, when all of the army would ride into the battle, it was his significant frame that would catch everyone's eyes who are in the furthest back, because this is the General, and he would never not be the beacon every member of the Sangonomiya would look up to;
The worst thing was, the bits, the shards of memories of your arms clinging onto his shoulders every time he makes his way into your neck, every time he is on top of your waist, grinning, cupping each side of your cheeks, in the bedroom, in the kitchen, near the back of the houses - they all resurface, and so do the flashes of stumbling across each other's toes on the shores of every beach, the waves crashing into rocks being turned to makeshift music, the last minute attempt in dancing with hands dangling ungracefully with the clumsy feet.
The worst thing was, after all these months the shiromuku was still kept clean inside the wardrobe in the far-east side of the empty room.
The Ikebana displays that were supposed to be showcased were tucked in the corner and so were the sashes and silks ordered from Oguro Mio almost half a year ago.
You told him you were five when all of this made sense, wanting to be as pretty as a shrine maiden of Narukami but as alluring as a theatre actress from Liyue Harbor, - even for just that day - the cherry petals would fall gently the day it would happen, you said to him, and he chuckled that evening, clasping strands of your hair for him to kiss for the fifth time.
In case it was ever needed.
In case the chaos would re-emerge, and Gorou would come back, the same Gorou before the end of the war telling you of this "ring" from Mondstadt that he got from a traveller, the same Gorou falling for a solider in the lowest ranks - the moment you smiled under your lashes; The Gorou enlightened of your innocence and of how you smelled like those flowers in Chinju Forest made him forget the bloodshed and sadness and everything that was ugly.
If the war remained eternal, would he have still looked at another soul?
If coping meant acceptance, then you were nowhere near the bay of your own healing unlike how you thought you would be.
If anyone else were to kiss me, all they would taste is your name.
Clementine von Radics
This night, it was Kokomi that was supposed to be the guest you were to receive.
(It wasn't her.)
Truth be told: this would be the worst time to ask the question, "After all this time?"
The thing is, the answer will always be yes, no matter how maimed, scarred, muted one was.
This is what it means to tremble underneath someone's grasp - a slight pinch of betrayal, and a far-away feeling once you stop avoiding their eyes.
He waited a bit - before slowly retracting his hand from your arm.
"The ringー do you still have it?"
Your first words.
His hands search deep in his pocket before being halted by your abrupt, "Keep it. Please."
"I'm sorry,"
The weak smile is present, once again.
"Don't be."
The next words were his, after a matter of silence,
"Can I have a request, then?"
"Go on."
"Marry me goodbye."
This is how it ends ー with the sand so coarse underneath your feet, the moonlight in its dimmest phase. Even the sea breeze was so humid it was difficult to cry.
But a laugh was all that could erupt from the both of you.
Gorou holds his ground, this time his fingers are laced around yours and they are still the warmest.
"Was I a lovely bride?"
Gorou was glowing, maybe from the idea of having his freedom at last or your final declaration of finally letting go of your grasp,
or, maybe, you being a whole piece of memory in him after all,
or maybe, just maybe, Gorou still loving you - because you can never unlove a person in the first place - it just so happens Itto was there for him to love the strongest, but still,
you were there.
"You were the loveliest."
There is no light, no promises at the end of the god-forsaken cave.
Until then, the wishes that have yet to be spoken are arduous farewells the wind haven't carried yet.
Until then, the only thing left to be done now is to be buried under the maple leavesー the prettiest, prettiest shades of red, of anger, of passions you have bid goodbye to, of saltiest tears, of hurt, of anguish,
and, of course, someday, of forgiveness.
Five, I whispered you stardust.
Six, I spoke you into sunflowers.
Seven, I dipped my hands in forever, I touched you infinity, treated you as if you were the last molecule of oxygen inside of a gas chamber;
I was good to you.
Rudy Francisco, Scars