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The colorful pebbles had turned red, just like Kunikuzushi’s blue coat he had removed, crumpled, and pressed against Lumine’s abdomen. It was pleasant to be cradled in his arms, although she wished she had known the feeling a little sooner—maybe years sooner—and not when she could no longer perceive the full moon above them as clearly as usual.
An old man kneeled on her other side. He pushed the cloth aside and muttered, “She’s bleeding too much. I don’t think she will—”
“Shut it. Do what you need to do, or you won’t leave this forest in one piece,” Kunikuzushi hissed. The old man nodded before lowering his head and caressing the wound. A dim green light glowed from his palms. She noticed how he was trembling, but anyone would have reacted the same way.
Kunikuzushi glanced at her when she flinched, but it wasn’t for too long before he bit his lower lip and looked away. She followed his gaze to the row of pine trees across the river. Or was it the pile of torn-down automatons buzzing incessantly while releasing grey smokes?
He had screamed at them some time ago, striking their broken joints like punishing those with souls to think and choices not to hurt. She would have laughed and made fun of his inexplicable anger, but she didn’t even have the power to stand. He had run to her as she slumped to the ground, but she couldn’t quite see the look on his face. His breathing was labored when he slipped a hand around her nape and another behind her waist. Desperately, he told the old man to save her.
Even now, the urge to tease him hadn’t left her. You should see your reflection. You would be embarrassed, she would love to say, but all she could manage was clutch at his arm, squeezing it as if he would grant her the strength to speak.
Perhaps it did work out, but instead of uttering what was on her mind, she chuckled and whispered, “Somehow, this reminds me of when I saved you that time. Don’t you agree?”
Their eyes met again, and she was sure he would rip his lip if he kept chewing on it. His face was filled with what she would regard as anguish—he was never one to smile, but he wasn’t one to cry either. Something told her to apologize, but the thumb stroking her cheek stopped her from doing so. His distinctive scent of primrose wasn’t there. What wafted through the air was the nauseous smell of blood. The riverside darkened as he repeatedly called her name.
How many years had passed since that eventful afternoon?
Hajime, a renowned bladesmith in Inazuma City, had tasked her to gather some crystal marrows from Tatarasuna. Paimon, her little friend, was the first to spot a familiar figure unconsciously floating on the edge of the water underneath the furnace. They glanced at each other, knowing what they were getting themselves into, but she still hauled the body up onto the ground. She could tell he was alive from pressing two fingers against his neck.
“It’s the so-called Balladeer! What is he doing here?” Paimon had exclaimed.
“Who knows?” Lumine observed him, from his head to his toes. He didn’t wear his usual hat, but other than that, he looked the same as their last two encounters, down to his hairstyle and perhaps the short length of his nails. Human skin would break up after being soaked in the water for too long, but his didn’t change.
Paimon’s eyes swept around the cave as if she had forgotten that not a single person would visit one of the most dangerous places in the nation. “We should bring him to—uh, Yae Miko? The Tenryou Commission? Or maybe Raiden Shogun herself? I don’t know what to do!”
“Did you not see this?” Lumine pointed at the glass shard stuck on his chest. It was unnoticeable at the first glimpse because of its size and how he wasn’t bleeding.
Paimon flew closer to gawk at the sharp object. “Oh, so peculiar! Lumine, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I hope so.”
Without hesitation, Lumine pulled the shard carefully to not cut herself. As she tossed it away, the Balladeer snapped open his eyes and sat up with a gasp. She rose to her feet, leaped backward, and drew her sword from her waist. Paimon went to hide behind her as they both glared at the man who was kneading his forehead while taking several deep breaths.
She had imagined him cackling with laughter out of nowhere and preaching about things that didn’t make any sense, but he remained solemn. Minutes passed, and he did nothing but stare at the grass beneath his folded legs. Even when he looked at her, he still didn’t show a sign of threat.
“Traveler,” he called. He had never spoken that calmly before. “What season is it now?”
Lumine glanced at Paimon from her peripheral before looking back at the Balladeer. “It’s almost the end of autumn.”
He hummed before standing up. He was entirely drenched, clothes clinging to his skin to show his lean shape. He wiggled his arms in an attempt to dry himself but gave up within seconds. His gaze was forlorn, like a person who was missing half of his brain, but perhaps it was the repercussion of whatever he had gone through. If Lumine hadn’t the slightest idea of who he was, she might have pitied him and set up a place nearby so he could rest.
“Hey, why are you so docile? What are you doing here, anyway? Don’t you dare assume we’ve forgotten how you were trying to kill us when we met in that factory! Also, two years ago in Mondstadt!” Paimon voiced everyone’s thoughts before Lumine could finish mulling over her own.
When the Balladeer chuckled, Lumine was sure Paimon had crossed the line and they should escape the area as fast as they could because nobody would assist them again, but he proceeded, “If that was the case, why didn’t you seek revenge? Why did you save me?”
“We were just curious.” Lumine firmed the grip around her sword. “We noticed the shard in your chest and removed it out of curiosity. If you do something stupid, I’ll kill you.”
“Why do you need to wait? You can kill me now,” he announced, voice louder as he spread his arms. “That shard was a curse, a trap to protect the furnace I thought had been eradicated long ago. I slept through a season, and I can feel how I can’t use my power for a while. Can’t you also see how I don’t carry any weapon with me? I won’t be able to defend myself if you attack me, so go on.”
Finally, he rambled on about a story that only he could comprehend. A trap that protected the furnace? A curse that suppressed his power for a moment? How he had been unconscious for about three months? But the way he looked at her and Paimon was like a child who couldn’t think further before blaming everybody else but themselves. Oddly so, Lumine thought about what it was like to be him. If she were him, she would be elated to be saved, but she didn’t know the person that well to conclude. What she was certain of was how wretched he seemed.
She lowered her sword. “Do you really want to die?”
He frowned. “What?”
“You’ve stolen a gnosis, tried to destroy a nation, made enemies of everyone including your own allies, and traveled around the world like you’re running out of time. Surely, it’s all for a purpose. Seeing your current condition, I can tell you haven’t achieved your goal, so why do you want to die?” she elaborated before heaving a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I know you won’t be truthful.”
He didn’t respond, nor did his face shift a fraction. She put away her sword and walked away, not forgetting to tighten the woven bag of crystal marrows slung on her other arm.
Paimon raised some questions on their way out, such as if they had to keep the meeting a secret or immediately visit an authority to discuss the matter. Lumine didn’t get the chance to think of a solution when she glanced at the river along the road and realized that the Balladeer was following them. It didn’t take long for Paimon to notice it as well. They paid no mind to him, but he managed to catch up with them once they reached the shore where they had docked their boat.
“Traveler,” he began. “Your name. Is it Lumine?”
She looked over her shoulder. “Why?”
“My name is Kunikuzushi,” he said.
“Huh? Why are you telling—”
“And you’re right. I don’t want to die.”
It was her turn to be speechless—she couldn’t come up with a proper response even if she wanted to—but she sensed the change in his tone. Still, she and Paimon hurried to board the boat to Narukami Island. She looked back once to see him standing at the shore, watching them like a statue, like she had done the most inhumane thing by leaving him behind.
She and Paimon kept stumbling upon him whenever they were away from any settlements, be it seaside villages or military grounds. Sometimes, it would be once a week. Sometimes, it would be several times a day. Paimon swore it was like being haunted by a mythical spirit who had taken an interest in them, but Lumine compared him to a stray dog who would follow the first person who rescued or fed them. Every time Lumine almost begged him to disappear from her sight, she would see his pout and couldn’t help changing her mind.
Over time, Lumine invited him to their campsite after a long day of finishing her commissions. He ate the food and drank the water he was given but didn’t speak much. When asked if he enjoyed her cooking, he would nod. When questioned if the weather was lovely, he would look up to the sky and shrug. On the rare occasions when Lumine and Paimon must sleep outside, he would keep a watch on the surrounding plain. He would then inform them when he would leave and return—small promises he never broke by being late.
It was silly how Lumine ended up not bringing up what she thought she would do the moment they could carry on a conversation. She had never even wondered about what he was doing when they were apart. She could have begun with something simpler to answer, maybe how many people he had deliberately killed or if he had hurt someone in the past week, but there was only one that had slipped from her tongue.
“Have you ever cried?” They had been together for almost a year when she initiated the talk. It was remarkable of what could be considered a strange fellowship; they were no longer in Inazuma but in the sultry land of Sumeru because she had accepted him as a companion without learning his true intention. That night, the two of them sat around a bonfire while Paimon was resting inside the tent.
“I was told that I cried once when I came into being,” he revealed without a hitch.
“What happened?” she continued, but of course, he kept his mouth shut. His eyes fixated on the flickering blaze, but her eyes were on his.
How many years had passed since then? But she remembered thinking about what could make him cry for the second time before she fell asleep. Could it be because of her? It was a foolish hope, but she flushed when seeing him the following morning.
She thought about Petrichor now, an evergreen village in Fontaine nestled among tiered waterfalls and hills of oak trees. The stars easily brightened the lakes, and irises bloomed alongside the uneven wooden road. They were fortunate to have rented a small house situated near the shortcut to the plaza. A family-owned bakery served the best brioche in the nation that would run out before seven o’clock each morning, but they didn’t need to worry about waking up too early to get a bag of the freshly-baked delicacy.
Paimon often made fun of her about this; one evening, they were heading home from watching a show in the capital, and she had used the cobblestone street wet from the rain as an excuse to hold the hem of his shirt. He grumbled about how writers who reused plots about princes saving princesses should die, but all she could focus on was his unoccupied hands.
He had built a garden of flowers and gotten bored of it after a month. He bought dozens of fictional books but never finished reading any of them. He hated coffee, but it didn’t matter since he didn’t need food to survive. He disliked wearing a blanket, but once again, it didn’t matter since he didn’t need sleep to live. Paimon said she still couldn’t grasp his personality after all this time. After hearing that, Lumine would always defend him because she wished everyone could get along.
“I can’t believe you’re actually in love with him!” Paimon would roll her eyes afterward, and Lumine would chuckle. She had never denied or validated it, but the words often rang in her ears; You’re in love.
When Lumine woke up, she saw an unfamiliar high coffered ceiling. Her head was heavy, and her body was sore, but she managed to tilt her head sideways. Kunikuzushi was there, sleeping next to her without a pillow. Their mattress was too small for two people. The faint light passing through the brown curtains beside them showed that it was daytime, and her gaze settled on his face again. His eyes were swollen badly. They would need an entire day to return to normal.
“Kunikuzushi,” she whispered, voice wavering as she recalled how vivid her dream was. So she was alive, and he hadn’t left her side. He groaned for a while before opening his eyes. They went wide, and he didn’t wait for another second to bring his face closer to hers.
His hand grasped her shoulder. He parted and closed his mouth too many times before eventually claiming, “You’ve been asleep for more than a week! I thought you wouldn’t wake up!”
“Oh. Is that so?” She pursed her lips before laughing. “What’s going on with your handsome face? Have you been crying because you were afraid I would die?”
She thought he would turn around and hide, but much to her surprise, he frantically nodded his head. “If that were to happen, should I kill that man or die with you? I wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t there to guide me. If you aren’t around in this world, I don’t—”
It was a moment when she couldn’t be bothered to think twice—how she reached out to press her lips against his and stop him from speaking any further. When she let go far enough for them to feel their breaths, he placed a hand on the back of her head. He pushed her closer to him and gave her a longer kiss than before, then another one on her cheek, chin, before going back to taste her lips.
“I love you. Please kiss me more,” she professed in the middle of it, caressing the side of his face while their noses touched. He didn’t answer, but a glance of his eyes was enough to ensure it wasn’t because he didn’t feel the same way.