Work Text:
For the common folk of Liyue, glaze lilies were regarded as treasures, as many believed they held the memories of the land. As the ethical and knowledgeable person he was, Xingqiu valued this belief for quite a long time. However, now as he sat against cold stone, staring up at the clouds past the trees of the grotto, the abundance of flowers surrounding him didn’t seem as precious. They were too tainted with pain and anguish, filled with memories of a past he’d much rather be in.
Xingqiu remembered every single detail of that day. The way Chongyun’s face paled after hearing of his family’s fall. The way he wrapped his arms around Xingqiu in a hurry. “You don’t have to go!” Xingqiu had pleaded with him, begging him to stay, to not leave him behind.
“Wait for me, okay? I promise it’ll be like I never left,” Chongyun replied. Xingqiu remembered staring at his best friend’s back, clutching the familiar charm to his chest. He remembered the sinking feeling in his heart and the prayer repeating in his head.
Chongyun would come home, he had to.
This was what Xingqiu said every day that turned into weeks, that turned into months, that turned into years. He never stopped thinking about Chongyun, not for a moment. As he looked out his window to see the changing seasons and bustling streets of Liyue Harbor. As his hair grew longer and he grew taller. As his book started gaining attention and earning revenue. Even as Xiangling extended her restaurant and brought Xingqiu along on a trip to Inazuma. And especially when he finally mastered the Guhua Clan’s arts. For 3 years, Chongyun never left his mind. Not even once did Xingqiu give up hope. He believed he wouldn’t be able to stand the guilt of giving up on the person he loved so dearly.
The morning his prayers were answered was foggy and cold. Xingqiu had just finished assisting his elder brother with an issue concerning the Feiyun Commerce Guild’s trading route with Sumeru and was enjoying a silent walk along the harbor. He was fiddling with the tassels connected to Chongyun’s charm, a feeling swelling up in his heart, as it always did when the exorcist came to his mind.
When the young practitioner sensed a presence behind him, he tensed up and turned to confront the stranger.
Except, it wasn’t a stranger. Sure, he had changed substantially, but there was no way Xingqiu wouldn’t be able to recognize the face he’d spent almost his entire life memorizing. His snowy blue hair was longer, like Xingqiu’s, and his eyes seemed almost haunted. His face was covered in scars and no longer adorned the smile it had so long ago. Xingqiu’s heart beat at the speed of light. His skin tingled and his breathing picked up, however he forced himself to stay calm.
“Chongyun….” Despite his attempts to remain calm, his voice trembled. The person across from him nodded solemnly, not even a slight upturn to his lips.
“Xingqiu.” That voice. Appearances had changed, but his voice. It resounded across the empty harbor, making its way to Xingqiu’s ears and sounded like heaven itself. Before he could think, he was running. Before he could register the movement, he was in Chongyun’s arms. They were bulkier, and wrapped around him after slight hesitation, probably out of surprise. The warmth Xingqiu felt contrasted Chongyun’s cryo vision, but it felt like home. Finally, he had come back. Chongyun’s breathing, his smell, everything about him that Xingqiu had tried his hardest to remember flooded his senses and the man welcomed it all. He was content just staying in the arms of the one he loved forever.
“Xingqiu, I can’t stay long.”
He still remembered the feeling of relief and happiness that day. He remembered the confusion that had turned into anger and hopelessness after hearing Chongyun’s words. He remembered the feeling of Chongyun’s hands cupping his cheeks. He’d stayed with Xingqiu for a few days, offering no comfort in the puppy-like way he’d used to, but being with him nevertheless. However, before he left, Chongyun had pressed his forehead to Xingqiu’s. He’d filled the other’s ears with promises of their life together after he came back. His ideas planted a fruit of hope in Xingqiu’s mind, as full as the kiss Chongyun gave to his lips before he departed yet again.
The fruit prospered for the months to follow, Xingqiu not letting it dwindle even once. He would live happily. He wouldn’t have to suffer anymore.
Xingqiu was shocked out of his memories by a cold and moist feeling under his fingertips. He looked down to see that he’d touched a nearby lily, covered in morning dew. He sat up from where he was slumped against the grave. Oh, where’d the time gone? Why was he here? Sparkling metal caught his eyes and he lifted up the vision cupped in his hand.
It was empty and lifeless, just like Chongyun had been the last time Xingqiu had seen him, touched him, kissed him, begged him to wake up.
“You broke your promise,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss the cold vision. Who was he talking to? He didn’t know, nor did he care. As if feeling sorry for him, the flowers whistled in an imaginary gust of wind. They caught his attention and he tilted his head, observing them.
“He always told me that his favorite flower was a silk flower,” Xingqiu mumbled, as if speaking to the flowers. “But I saw right through him. I knew what his actual favorite flower was. I know everything about him.”
His hand brushed over something on the ground and his fingers circled around the handle. His sword. Of course it was here, now he remembered his plan. He set down the vision and slumped against the stone, looking up at the rumbling clouds that threatened an upcoming storm.
Xingqiu admitted he felt slightly sorry for the innocent flowers as he raised the sharpened weapon. However, he felt the anguished longing deep in him and could no longer bring himself to be guilty. Red stained the vibrant lilies as thunder rumbled, rain started to pour from the sky, and voices sounded out from a distance away, calling out his name. A crow that was perched on a nearby branch called out and flew away into the coming morning. If someone had entered the grotto at that moment, they might’ve been able to witness the reunion of two scarred and torn souls. They might’ve been run down and tired, yet the clearing was suddenly filled with the emotion of their love. Silence hung in the air as the, now lonely, glaze lilies relished the feeling of the rain washing away not only their new color, but also what was left of the morning dew.