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He couldn’t help it. As a natural wanderer, he always had an appreciation for the night sky. The loneliness was easier to quell with the vastness of it, he found. Thus, it became a sort of ritual to at least look up and linger his gaze once every day, out of admiration and respect for the stars.
This day was no different, sitting on the roof of an uninhabited cottage, somewhere in Jueyun Karst. Sprayed across it casually, his hands supporting his head that was faced upwards, he recounted all of the blessings in his life. Tomo and he used to watch this same sky together on their travels, and during particular nights, he remembered his father teaching him about the world he grew up in. The constellations and other phenomena were not dismissable, he found, as he listened to both men talk endlessly about them.
It was all too cruel that life took them away from him.
He met plenty of people who told him the sky was not to be trusted. That the heavens would open up, and leave nothing but destruction in its wake. For if humanity ever disregarded its place as something to be controlled, it would be destroyed in every sense of the word. People opposite of his friend and father; people that would not die for him, despite it being a necessary sacrifice.
Someone like Kaedehara Kazuha knew this very well, so well in fact, that he ran from it whenever he could. Topics as these do not fare well in casual situations, so he would avoid them at all costs. Emotions and perspective are something he had, but was not willing to share with the rest of the scornful eyes he regularly met.
Times of when he was just a ronin with nothing to his name flashed back to his mind still, even now, when the dust seems to have settled. Inazuma was at peace once more. Much like the heavens that ruled above it; the bad blood dissolving into the earth’s crust until it is its water.
The surrounding breeze picked up the chuckle that left his lungs. It was easier to hear the soul of nature speaking back to him during the night. He liked the quiet. Almost as much as he liked solitude, something he was not often privy to.
This time was no exception.
“What are you thinking about?”
The roof of the small, broken-down cottage they found on their trip to Qingce village was made of straw. He heard every small thread within rustle against each other as he turned to face the person he was with. Kazuha could hear them holding their breath as well, not daring to look him in the eye, somehow knowing that the answer he would give wasn’t something as airy as he usually was.
He hummed in response. “Reconnaissance of what came before.”
The person next to him whistled with a low tone. “Sounds exhausting.” They turned their head towards him, their eyes reflecting the small lights in the distance. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I doubt anything would come of it, if I do.”
They shrugged. A fragment of a normally joyful smile could be seen on their lips, tugging his own into a frown. An expression like this was nothing of the ones he wished to see on their face. Smiles were good, but only the ones that brought that contagiousness he was so used to with them.
“I’m more than willing to carry your burdens for you, if you need a place to put them, Kazuha.”
You couldn’t call him stunned, per se; shocked he was, but not to the point where it took his very own breath away. The stars could be swirling, but they were nothing compared to the twisting colours of nebulas springing out of the darkness. Almost invisible to the naked eye.
A sigh escaped him. “I see.”
The other knew to keep quiet at this moment. Kazuha was a man of a certain type of pride, if you could call it that. Walls that he built around himself, to keep people away from snooping. It was a safety measure he made long ago, and it protected him from many unnecessary dangers.
However, he often didn’t know what to do with these walls that separated him from others. The feelings he bottled up inside were ones he never truly felt, despite all that he made even those closest to him believe. He never truly let anyone in.
He didn’t know what drove him to continue on with this topic he so readily avoided with anyone else. Perhaps it was the eyes of the person beside him, enticing him to see whether they’d narrow in sympathy or worry; or it was the way they shone all on their own, even disregarding the lights that only made them sparkle more. Maybe he needn’t have a particular reason other than the fact that he trusted them with his life. Maybe, just a simple connection would be enough to satisfy this gaping emptiness in his stomach. Something to make him feel again.
Sitting up, he looked back up at the stars. “You already are aware of my friend that succumbed to the Musou no Hitotachi, no?” Unaware of the small nod the other gave, Kazuha continued. “Before the Shogun decided on her current pursuit of eternity, the Kaedehara clan was one of the ruling clans of Inazuma.
“Heaven nor Hell could bring my ancestors down. We cut through every obstacle and challenge with the swiftness of ten thousand winds. We protected those that lived in the suburbs of Inazuma, and watched Inazuma City grow through the centuries.
“Unfortunately,” he took a deep breath, “we were forced to move to Ritou due to other clans growing. More of us got defeated, fewer people wanted our protection. Eventually, our prowess sizzled out.”
The cynical laugh he gave in return to the stunned silence from his audience was chilling. “We fell prey to loan sharks; my father specifically.”
Kazuha clenched his fist and looked away. He dared not to look back into the nebula of their irises, for he felt a primal fear within him once more. Emotions bubbling up merely from telling the truth was as foreign as the Dandelion Wine they sang praises of. His freedom came at the cost of his own loss, the willingness to give up everything his family held dear.
A hand clasped around his clenched one. Reassuring. Despite the bandages, he still felt the warmth of that gentle touch, ushering him to let go of the facade.
He took it as a sign to continue. “My grandfather passed away before I could know him. My mother, sick from the grief of his passing, ended up isolating herself from the world. I never saw her around that much when I was still in training. My father wanted to uphold our family name, probably to bring back grandfather’s spirit into our house.”
The more he talked, the heavier he breathed. His shoulders tense, the grip on the other’s hand stronger. They saw the tears lining his eyes, even though he was looking away.
“You do not have to go on, if you don’t want to. It’s okay.” Their voice rang through the panic, reminding him of open fields in the mountains of Liyue. Lovely and free, but still contained within a world that protects it of its thorns. A beacon of safety, and reminder that he was here, in the present, with them by his side.
“No.” He dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand, paired with a tight smile. “I’m alright.”
They put their head on his shoulder, nuzzling into him for comfort. His heart might have beat out of his chest, if it weren’t for the ribcage holding it in. The action was nonchalant in a way, something about it reminiscent of his father. The tinges of regret that began to well up in him were soon quelled by the soft shuffling of the person next to him.
“Little autumn leaf, don’t worry about the past, for you are right here.”
He chuckled, this time lighter than before. It was funny how much they knew him — a haiku made up on the spot was enough for their feelings to reach him. He sat there and wondered what in the world he had done to be blessed with a travelling companion like this. For all of the sorrow and misfortune he has faced in these recent years, you’d think there was no hope left for him.
That he’d be trapped within his own melancholy for all of eternity, just like the nation of Inazuma.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
His heart slowed down, the intense rush turning into a soft thud, reminding him of his existence within this moment. It was as if the entire world swirled around them, like galaxies so often do, and they were in the middle of it. The eye of the storm, free to roam the lands, free of their grief.
Kazuha thought about the abundance of stars above them, knowing that watching them would always bring up this memory of peace. If the nebulas in their eyes never died, then he would never regret a single instance of his time spent on earth. If they stayed happy, then there would be no room for him to wish it all away. Because if he did, then that joy would fade into obscurity as well, and he would never allow that.
Not even in the blind spots he knew he had.
It was a soft sound, their breathing. Just like the rest of them, it was like the steady coolness of fresh water, as beautiful as the soft grass one would tread upon. The grip on his hand got looser, and their weight shifted completely into his.
Perhaps, he thought right before sinking into them, slumber overtaking his senses, it was time to let it all rest.