Chapter Text
There's a sudden appeal for remorse when Keqing receives the notification at five, the exact time of perfecting rigid lines that have begun mere hours to dawn.
05:30 A. M.
BRUNCH TODAY AT XING XIÀNG.
The alarm sets off in eruption, ringing loudly from one ear to another, in its stupefying state of consistency that Keqing can never compromise with impending risks. Wouldn't tomorrow be a more perfect time for brunch? Things aren't aligned accordingly today, no? And sure enough, Venti would have the patience to understand that. Reasons are justifiable when a plate is nowhere near a finished draft, with a deadline of less than two-day intervals defining a professor's lack of leniency.
Then again, Venti was never known for simply "understanding". An ideal testament to this notion is Yun Jin: committing to music summer camp last year at Ottawa and returning with fifty dollars worth of local delicacies due to the heavy imposition of Venti's whining. Keqing had gotten a fair share of Yun Jin's loss, at least, though submitting to making it all worthwhile by dividing the sweets for familial souvenirs. Soon after, Keqing swore her father had nearly cried the tears of Mazu's seas when he began proclaiming the brilliance of Ottawa's culinary arts.
But that's not the point. Keqing has two … three? plates to finish by the end of the month, and the first draft alone won't come together if left unattended for even a moment. It's a Thursday morning charged by the heavy dose of exhaustion, mixed with frustration from scribbles on crumpled papers tossed to the endless bin on the corner of the room.
She'll pass for today, too.
So when the afternoon comes and Venti calls, Keqing declines for the first three times until the ringtone blares loud enough to compete with the brunch alarm. The volume never wavers, but it seems Venti's force always influenced the annoyance you can derive from a constant beat of ringing bells.
("Ugh. Why decline when you're going to answer anyway?")
Keqing rounds the couch to collect the seventeenth pen she dropped that day. "Maybe if you stopped calling me," she huffs as she drops down, "and get the gist that I'm working."
Venti snickers with a breeze. ("Only hot-headed Keqing can ever dare to scold so lovingly. What a charmer!")
Keqing tries not to raise her voice ever so suddenly. She sends a pointed look towards the myriad of rough sketches pinned hastily on the surface of the drafting table, then on the various rulers protruding from the top of her seat. Definitely not the time to dwell on minimal matters now.
"I'm going to drop the call," Keqing says in normalcy. Some equipment slips from the edges of the table when she walks by, all scattered on the floor by the time she sits down. "Apologize to Yun Jin for me, have fun at brunch, and don't even think about intruding for the rest of the week. I'm locking the door. Goodbye."
("Do you—")
The line ends in a single press, Keqing succumbing to the idea that one way or another Venti will violate her private space. Nonetheless, she settles down, but not before getting up again to fetch a bottle of water from her… erm… deserted refrigerator. Save for a few cans of sprite, a bottle of ramune left by Yun Jin the last time she came over, and a couple of fresh milk cartons bought from an entrepreneurship project implemented by the business students downtown. Now, really, what is up with all the drinks?
And has it always been this empty?
Perhaps she had forgotten to acknowledge the groceries with all the work piling up. Ordering take-out one lunch after another wouldn't really require you all that much to get up and prepare food yourself.
Keqing ponders on the list of rations to be addressed when her stomach rumbles in anticipation, a clear consequence of skipping brunch that hinders free (necessary) food.
She supposes she can't skip another meal like last time; having to faint in front of the class while reciting contributed no good merit to her reputation for the remainder of her days walking on familiar grounds. And, hey, wasn't an entire sorority group taking that class? Same room of shared embarrassment won't brush her the key to maintaining what's left to maintain.
To Wanmin, now.
///
The center of culinary arts is unorthodox at best. Keqing had established a few relationships with self-proclaimed chefs from the department, but the most prominent of all would have to be Xiangling.
It’s more of a droll to consider dropping by at Wanmin each working time a daily routine. At this point most of the menu Keqing had already ordered before, and Xiangling purposely insists to customize a more proportional plate appropriate for the diet Keqing began to lack. The kid needs the money, Keqing thinks, so it’s rather selfish to pluck herself a premium pass of Xiangling’s cooking if all there is to her plate are additional pieces of garlic butter shrimp.
She tries ever so often to slip a few vegetables here and there, which Keqing appreciates but never had the time to fully finish the meal. Turns out, Xiangling offers them to Ganyu, of all people, because Ganyu was a vegetarian who takes her lunch at Wanmin right after Keqing leaves each time.
And Wanmin was but a small stall near the riverside, with few plastic tables for furnishings and matching plastic seats for accommodation. Never mind the economic set-up; Keqing can guarantee expensive taste from a single bite. Xiangling had made it to high school with her father's tofu marinade, and college with her signature neighborhood stew. It's safe to say Keqing wishes Xiangling should realize soon that she's more than she gives herself credit for.
That aside, the afternoon had clearly scorned her dead. Her mere exposure of vulnerability seemed to have caught the first customer eating in solitude beneath a tree, eyes widening at the sight of Keqing — disheveled, tousled, filthy Keqing — and grabbed a napkin to cover her chewing. Ganyu pauses a bit to analyze Keqing's approach, a virtuous posture sustaining her spine despite the appearance, then lifts a hand to seize her attention.
“Keqing!”
A consequence for having dismissed brunch today, it seems. Allowing Ganyu to witness a moment of civil weakness (a vulnerable moment exposed freely to the public) was the least of her concerns when she left her unit. Keqing can only sigh, comb her hair in subtle decency, and pat off the creases wrapping her shirt as she walks towards the lone table Ganyu occupied.
“Good afternoon, Ganyu.”
Ganyu's eyes twinkle from the sunlight peeking through the gaps above, hair flowing in accordance to the rhythm of the river breeze. Keqing had sworn she could memorize how she looked then, and paste the same image on a canvas as a rough sketch. It's only unfortunate that Keqing isn't exactly on close terms with Ganyu; specialized classes can only do so much to make ends meet and friendships blossom, to which the only times they've ever seen each other are limited to econometrics class and bump-ins at the resource center.
"Hi," says Ganyu, placing her napkin down beside her finished meal. "It's strange of me to arrive so early. I was wondering if you'd spare time to come at all."
Keqing licks her lips in surprise. The blaze above isn't getting any better. Visit Xiangling, grab a meal, then get back to the condominium — that was the initial plan. She can't afford to entertain idle chit-chat with Ganyu now, no matter how friendly her intentions may be.
"I lost track of time." She did. Venti's disruption had been the wake-up call to signify her fluctuating diet, not to mention the groceries are as good as invisible. There's nothing else to consume except Xiangling's kindness. "Either way, I hope you're well and enjoying your meal. I should be going now."
Keqing walks past Ganyu's table without looking back, leaving Ganyu to wonder what it is that Keqing finds befitting for a decent conversation. Rumors of owning a habit of strictly keeping things professional would provide that assumption, and Ganyu wasn't an exception to those Keqing grew cautious around the most.
Xiangling pops behind the stall at the right time, jumping with enough fervor that puts Keqing's exhaustion to shame. She asks for the usual, requests for take-out, then walks away without another word. All while Ganyu had stayed still beneath the tree.
Keqing… doesn't exactly remember when was the last time she entertained Ganyu's advances for interaction. Acknowledging each other grew out of the expectations of seeing each other, whether it be in class or somewhere Ganyu always lingered at. With that said, there are a few other people standing on the platform Ganyu prided herself in — like Albedo, maybe, and Keqing knew not to impel herself to join circles of social repute.
Her GPA is at the risk of being salvaged if she were to divert her attention so carelessly. Find friends elsewhere, she would have said, but Venti is as persistent as a mosquito and Yun Jin is tolerable enough to have her silenced.
There's a lot to think about. Nevermind the fridge, has my social relationships always been this hollow?
///
Yun Jin is a far more decent peer than Venti will ever be, that Keqing will never admit that out loud (but Yun Jin knows, anyway). They've agreed to discuss the miscellaneous Keqing had previously missed on, of Venti's various frolics around campus amidst the umpteenth admonition of the Disciplinary Commission, and such topics unrelated whatsoever to the weather of the day.
Keqing appreciates Yun Jin's temperament to administer the schedule, as the woman herself had only arrived from an extensive ensemble this morning. The drafts on Keqing's desk weren't too helpful in letting her go the same way, but she's true to her word in passing by, nevertheless. There are people worthy of her time with Yun Jin always in between.
"Heading south?" Keqing asks. They have lemonade sitting on concrete in the middle, legs extending to the trimmed grass of the campus courtyard.
Yun Jin drinks from her cup, then settles down. "The state's hosting a massive commodity fair in three months. We're invited to perform for the interlude to formally start the event."
"That's amazing, Yun Jin. I'm actually really thrilled for you." Keqing admits, it came out quite a surprise for a significant event to even offer their local ensemble a chance to perform on a public stage with a grand audience. The most Yun Jin had told her are charity numbers and individual evaluations to ascertain one's worth for overseas summer camp, which itself is a nightmare for music majors who think playing the bassoon twenty-four seven would quickly grant them the approval for travel.
"A small step to being recognized as a philharmonic," Yun Jin laughs. "On top of that, we're aiming for an entry at the national competition by the following year, at least by the second half. Concerts are bound to be arranged, and exposure is key to getting through. It's…" Followed by a sigh in fading, Yun Jin drinks one last sip of lemonade before bumping it against Keqing's. "...great, overwhelming. Hard work is paying off."
Keqing hums, smiling. "You're getting there. You'll be on stage soon, with thousands of people watching."
The lemonade cups sitting at the gap nearly blew away from the sudden breeze, until Yun Jin had both held them off to toss into the nearby bin.
"Speaking of exposure," Yun Jin makes herself comfortable once more, "it was Ganyu who struck the deal. That girl's a Virtuoso — no doubt she's the center of attraction. I heard she often played at a retirement home not too far from here, and it was by sheer luck that the primary investor of the agency hosting the commodity fair had dropped by to survey the land on the same day."
"Oh," was all Keqing could say. Ganyu, huh? There's not much known about her, and Keqing's not all that interested to dwell deeper in someone else's business. The common knowledge is that Ganyu has always carried a tenderhearted approach, one easily adored by those who came her way, and that was it. Keqing could care less, but if she's the prime ignition to all this, perhaps there's more than one way to glorify her appreciation.
"We've gotten close over time," Yun Jin sing-songs. "Ganyu's phenomenal, Keqing. Both as a friend and a performer. No wonder she's a natural head-turner."
Keqing only nods to the enthusiasm by her side. There's leftover nutribar in her coat pocket, apparently, and so she opts to respond in silent bites instead. "I'm sure she's great to talk to."
Yun Jin only grins at this, not feeling the slightest bothered to mind the dismissive behavior. "I've been meaning to ask you something, actually," she begins.
"Hm?"
"In light of the commodity fair…" Keqing crumples the foil wrappings in her fist, keeping it there as she nods for Yun Jin to continue. "...I have a little favor to ask of you, Keqing."
"Yes, as you've said." Keqing's response is ever so blunt. Yun Jin's grin only grows wider.
"Our acting conductor has arranged a mandatory attendance for daily practices, meaning, we'll have to go to and fro the university and our designated rehearsal venue. It's a long hassle."
Keqing nods, eyebrows furrowing the more she listens. "And what about it that you need my help?" She has always been a woman of her word, after all.
"Not me, no." One of the bags beneath their legs Yun Jin grabs, fishing out her phone to display an entire map that scaled within the vicinity of the locations displayed — the university, a distant institution kilometers away, and Keqing's condominium tower.
Keqing leaned forward to analyze the exhibition. "Huh?" She voices, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
"But Ganyu."
The map is zoomed in outside the perimeter, somewhere on the east of the campus where another area is labeled by Yun Jin's finger. "Hear me out first, Keqing. Out of all of us, Ganyu actually has it worst." Zooming further, Yun Jin drags her finger along the roadways connected from the area to the campus. "On the first day we were called to rendezvous at the institution, Ganyu barely made it in time due to transportation struggles. I helped her to try and negotiate with the professor, but surely we can't just simply cancel because of a member who lives far away."
I don't like where this is going.
Keqing straightens her posture and sighs. "What does this have to do with me?"
"You live just between the campus and the institution." Right there on the map Yun Jin emphasizes that yes, the condominium where Keqing lives is but one train ride to the designated destination of all music practitioners alike. "And we need Ganyu, Keqing. We've navigated all available solutions to make this work, and the only choice left is you."
A very visible frown sews its way across Keqing's lips. One slip of a minute allowed her a subtle moment to mentally assess the state of her residence; scattered papers everywhere, cupboards left vacant, remnants of erasure littered in the gaps of the floorboards — an entire mammoth of a mess. Keqing's eyes tightly shut at the image, for regret imposed at the fear of allocating the time to clean up. Free time meant plausible junctures for external work, and aside from that, her space is already suffocating as it is.
"My unit is not a penthouse," she argues. "I only have one room, and Ganyu's busy the same way everybody is. I can't arrange a suitable setup that would attend to her material needs."
"But you hardly use your room, Keqing."
"That's not a justifiable reason."
"A little bird told me you sleep on your bed only once a month. I hate to admit it, but I'd actually like to believe that for the sake of the band."
Keqing groans. "Venti?"
A little laugh escapes Yun Jin, her previous frenzy returning to nourish her disposition. "While Venti may have a few screws loose, you can only fetch trustworthy news to an extent."
In truth, there were only a few listed downsides to allowing someone else to share a space with. The sole commotion provoking her hesitance is the idea of a tangled system; she's seen Ganyu only a few times in ergonomics class, as well as during the time she was forced into attending a string quartet Ganyu performed in with Yun Jin, by means of supporting her fellow musicians. Including yesterday at lunch, Ganyu below a tree eating what Keqing perceived is a personal buffet of all things vegetarian.
"She'll contribute her portion of the rent, of course. I even helped her estimate possible assets involved once she's allowed the freedom."
"You planned ahead?" The sight of Keqing's eyebrows deeply furrowing is ridiculous at best, that Yun Jin thinks it would have been a perfect shot for Venti gloss over. "Without so much as giving me a heads up?"
Yun Jin shrugs. "I'm giving you a heads up now."
There's a pregnant pause before Keqing deflates, with an irritated sigh to signify her intolerance for the topic.
"Why can't she just prepare at an earlier time, then? Surely that would be a more feasible solution."
"Ganyu has morning classes two hours before our designated time to meet. It takes her thirty minutes to return home and prepare, and one hour — or so, if traffic couldn't get any worse — to arrive at the institution." Keqing couldn't particularly pinpoint it, but the way Yun Jin's eyes melted as she spoke clearly implored sympathy in the face of refusal. Always the last resort. "You don't have to worry all that much, she'll be out of your hair once the fair is over. Give her just this once."
Keqing runs a hand through her hair, every once in a while blowing puffs of air in strong reluctance. The odds are indeed growing against her; she's no heartless dolt to persist in refusing preplanned logistics (which excluded her advance consent in the first place) but the consideration is there. Ganyu's been nothing but stalwart based from all the hours they've spent at the lecture hall, active in a way even the professor raised a particular fondness for her efforts in class.
Then there's the usual gossip from the turbulence of the student body, how easily Ganyu exceeds endless criteria in all the areas that require her participation. The philharmonic virtuoso, future concertmaster — excellence in both name and face. Keqing supposes the intrusion herself is nothing short of remarkable, toleration taken into account until the day of the commodity fair.
"Seven months, yes?"
A tune of triumph hums in between. Coaxing Keqing is a challenge of its own.
"Alright." With that, Yun Jin fails to hide the grin curling from the moment Keqing took the moment to consider thoughtfully. The student architect merely rolls her eyes, then adds, "But she has to wait until the weekend to allow myself the necessary preparations before she settles. Forward her number to me — and do ensure her consent — as I'll see to it that there won't be any misunderstandings if I ever cause a blunder outside her preferences."
The phone that had been the main perpetrator of unanticipated sympathy emerges once more from Yun Jin's pocket. "Sure, miss grouchy. I'm eating out with the percussionists this evening — Ganyu invited. I'll inform her then."
One last nod of acknowledgement before Keqing checks her watch, clocking at exactly five in the afternoon. "I'll head home now."
They both grab their respective bags and walk towards the gates crowded by self-proclaimed versatile athletes who pursued scholarships in football alone, finished for the day as well.
"Keqing? I have one last favor," Yun Jin says as they walk side by side down the stairs.
"What else?"
Yun Jin holds onto the railing and jumps on the concrete of the outdoors. She waits for Keqing to land on the same level before resuming, "Can you not speak to Ganyu like that? Please?"
"Like what?" Keqing tries not to look too confused, just right after hearing the most ridiculous request in her entire life.
"Do you even hear yourself when you speak?" They pass by tarnished statues of personified symbolic values yet to be polished, and Keqing switches gazes from one to another as she walks in a manner of uncertainty, deeply in thought.
Yun Jin leads them to the direction of the bus stop, in case Keqing dwells on the question enough to bump into a streetlight. "You always talk like you have a brick in your mouth. Always so formal, Keqing. So strict. Ganyu doesn't deserve that kind of treatment for seven months in a row, don't you think?"
What? Is it not common knowledge that how one speaks determines one's overall conviction as a person? Formality is no hindrance to a steady conversation, let alone the use of extensive vocabulary in a typical exchange. Keqing ponders on it a bit more; evaluating complete rundowns of previous interactions, picking out possible times of which she may have offended someone through her style of communication.
"Frankly, I can put up a decent conversation," Keqing argues. She narrows her eyes at the sign in the distance. "If Ganyu would care enough to have a problem with that, then it's best she'd never move in at all."
Curse her untimely alarms that burst either too early in the morning or late in the afternoon, because in one spare moment that same sign is nearly as unreadable as it is from far away. While the road seems vacant, Yun Jin drags Keqing back to the pavement in one swift motion, beneath the traffic lights that have recently switched green. Rush and pressure do not exactly match in the same duration, as Keqing's glasses are bound to sit idly on the coffee table each time she dashes out the door without a second thought.
Keqing tried to blink away the blur a few times. "Sorry," she says, but the attempts for clarity are more than futile.
"I think Ganyu wouldn't mind serving as a reminder to leave your desks unoccupied." Yun Jin's heart stills the moment she gives a hearty chuckle over the uproar of transportation. "You get yourself a roomie and a secure lifeline."
They both cross the road safely this time, with Yun Jin leading Keqing towards the other side. And on the way home does Keqing receive a message, in the dead of the night right after passing by Wanmin at the riverside park to grab dinner.
[Unknown Number]
Hello? Is this Keqing? :)
///
The following weekend was devoted to thorough, total cleansing. Keqing had scrubbed the floors, replaced the bedsheets and pillowcases, dusted the shelves, filled the cupboards, wiped the windows — all to a complete restoration of the once spacious residence she first worked hard to pay for.
Her lone bedroom was emptied with a few traces of her belongings, which are considered as merely unnecessary that Ganyu wouldn't bother to probe into. The closet was even improvised by Keqing herself, after having spent an entire Friday night constructing wooden dividers to improve the available capacity and to catalogue both Keqing's and Ganyu's clothes to avoid complications.
Safe to say, Keqing was prepared. It would be the first time ever to allow herself to share one space with another, especially if they're nowhere near her own social circle.
Most of her equipment is stationed in the living room, and Keqing slightly hopes there would be no need to relocate them either. She had assessed every probable issue that may come within those seven months, as living alone already reassured no other drawbacks, what more if someone else were to cause it? Preferably efficient if Ganyu were more of an aid than a hindrance, because if so, Keqing would have continued to experience the tranquility of being independent despite the additional baggage.
Yun Jin had texted her beforehand this morning, informing she'd help Ganyu in moving in and possibly be the medium she'll unknowingly require. Keqing raises a brow at that, but decides to brush it off. There's nothing else to consider aside from the list of rules they both have to keep track, written in parchment through hurried lines and few, evident erasures. Enumerating such problems are first solved by avoidance, that perhaps Keqing only now realizes it was never advisable to impulsively shove enlisting rules in the middle of her drafting.
Later in the afternoon, the static of Keqing's doorbell resonates throughout the living room. She opens the door to see Yun Jin dragging one suitcase on each hand — a very, very, ecstatic look on her face — and Keqing narrows her eyes at the blue locks behind her with a warmer demeanour.
"Hi, Keqing." Ganyu folds her hands before her lap, bowing. "I have yet to thank you for your kindness in letting me stay. I'll make sure I won't cause you any more trouble as it is."
"Don't worry about yourself, Ganyu," Yun Jin comments right after pulling all the luggages inside, next to the couch where Keqing had all led them to settle. "If anything, Keqing's more trouble than you might think. Should something happen, I'm sure you know who to call."
"What are you even implying?"
On the coffee table are three mugs of coffee Keqing subtly grows embarrassed at. While the remainder of her concerns are addressed, navigating a first, official meet-up never slithered between the list; staring at the brewing machine in her kitchen barely screamed versatility with her taste in drinks, that of which Ganyu would possibly question about in the near future.
What else is there for Keqing to present as a welcome token? She had no knowledge of Ganyu's likes and dislikes, no idea at all in the matter of pleasing anyone. After all, it was still her home, wasn't it?
///
Yun Jin stayed for the majority of the time Keqing elaborated on the ground rules. Ganyu remained quiet at most, nodding her head to whatever Keqing said and only raised her hand to question any possible events that might violate a specified rule. They both came to various agreements shortly without further effort, and Yun Jin had been the one to alleviate some of Keqing's rules that were deemed too illiberal for Ganyu to move around.
Only when Yun Jin brought it up Keqing realized the rigidity of her authority — one which she refuses to exercise at all cost. The goal was to make sure Ganyu is comfortable (Yun Jin repeated the word in texts, during the orientation, and even on the way out), and Keqing had to ensure that frequent habits are to die before Ganyu convinces herself of the terrible predicament she had as a last resort.
Everyone had come to an understanding. Aside from Yun Jin's unappreciated remarks, very few arguments were raised to fabricate a problem; a smooth, comprehensive exchange was maintained all throughout the morning.
Keqing once in a while observed Ganyu's expression as she spoke, analyzing features that conveyed a deeper message than her words did. It was true she was reading into the situation far more than anyone else, but a well-preserved relationship with another is already a factor of the continuous peace Keqing has attained in the past years of living alone. Ganyu should be no exception in making her life all the more different.
It is a matter of simplicity and consistency. What Keqing sees is an additional thorn, is also perceived as a blooming petal in the same way.
So, then, why is Keqing stuck in the kitchen after having announced that she would simply prepare lunch for the two of them?
It was a simple question for lunch, asking Ganyu if she had already filled her stomach before she came — because of course, Wanmin was but the sole, mutual liking they shared knowingly. Keqing knew a thing or two about cooking, but it was only by chance that she forgot the idea that they do eat at Wanmin for lunch, and not together on the first day of Ganyu's stay.
How was Keqing going to eat lunch now? Should she invite her to head to the riverside park together, or dive straight into the stove to cook?
What does Ganyu even like? The only fact Keqing is aware of is that she's a total vegetarian, but what of her particular preferences in the likes of food? Does she even have enough vegetables? Surely her refrigerator stored less meat than nutrients in there, because now is not a good time to—
"Keqing?"
Keqing's grip on the counter tightens at the sound of Ganyu's voice, growing nearer in accordance with the resonating steps approaching.
"I'm sorry for interrupting," says Ganyu timidly, "but I can't seem to dislodge the shelf like you asked me to. It appears to be stuck from the hinges."
"Ah," There was a swift cough that bridged between them, "I see." Keqing releases her grip from the edge of the counter, brushing her hands behind the back of her pants. "I'll investigate the matter. For the meantime, you can place your devices on my study table at the bedside."
"Is that really alright?" There was a genuine glint of concern in Ganyu's eyes, and Keqing supposes it's only natural to feel such a way. "I wouldn't like to impose, and I'm fine with the bed alone. Just thinking about how you're persistent in sleeping on the couch proves me more restless than I feel accounted for."
"My comfort shouldn't be something to trouble yourself with," Keqing retorts, despite her intentions of normality. "And I'm not one to make guests suffer in my stead, nor do I require as much."
Ganyu stands there speechless, lips ajar by the firmness of Keqing's voice. She nods once, twice, following a rhythm of silent beats unintentionally conducted.
Swallowing the edge off her throat, Ganyu displays the lightest smile she could foster. "But if the couch happens to provide you discomfort, I would be more than willing to exchange positions. I'm already asking a lot from you, and wouldn't like to pressure you into further obligations for my sake."
Keqing sets her lips apart in a moment, but was hurriedly silenced when a small, neatly wrapped box was fished out from the trail of Ganyu's jean pocket. "Please take this," she says, offering the gift to Keqing's opened palm, "as a token of my genuine gratitude. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to give it to you this morning, as I didn't think it would be necessary to tell Yun Jin anyway."
Each fold is elegantly creased, forming patterns of unprecedented shapes drawn from the wrapping's colorful design. Keqing's eyes fixate themselves on how trivial it appears to be upon her palm, curiosity scheming underneath the surprised indication she lays bare.
Meanwhile, Ganyu breathes amidst the quietude of Keqing's contemplation. In a single row of multiple exhales, pretty patterns are distorted across the tearing, the box quickly exposes itself whole in strokes of gold linings decorating black coverage. Keqing spares Ganyu a nervous glance once, to which Ganyu simply encourages with a breeze of a nod, and the box is opened.
"Oh," Keqing blurts on instinct. "I, um ..."
It's the way it gleams in all the right angles, reflecting glints of illumination from the authenticity of the surface material alone. A round pendant cushioned center-piece, unveiled before Keqing with utter sincerity; carved in the focus of the glow is an image of a flower blooming — miniature to the eye, yet monumental to the gravity of the motive. Keqing smiles and thinks: it's lovely.
"Ah! But I'm not expecting you to wear it in frequent times, let alone wear it," Ganyu reassuringly affirms as she leans against the counter, after nervously knitting the hem of her shirt from watching Keqing's reaction. "It's not much, sorry. I just thought it would be extremely rude of me to come empty-handed."
Keqing shakes her head, closing the box. "It's a wonderful gift, Ganyu." Though she wonders how the virtuoso had found it suitable to offer her a gift of brilliance in the domesticity of the kitchen, all but bland from each corner that contrasted the pendant. Supposingly lunch was to be served, yet Keqing was in a moment of the toughest decision making she was faced with — which, by the way, has been left undecided in the matter of Ganyu's kindness. "This was highly thoughtful of you. When the appropriate time comes, I'll make sure to wear it."
"I'm glad." Ganyu lowers her head as if to acknowledge her gratitude, then smiles. "Oh, and, It's fine. I often finish my work or study at the resource center. You don't have to trouble yourself with the shelf anymore."
The tension between them seeped down for the meantime, but the underlying peculiarity of the situation began to inflate that it irks Keqing to do something about it. It's never often she'd receive gifts from someone else, as Yun Jin and Venti, sometimes that law student Ningguang (the name alone irritates Keqing, for God knows what), are more accustomed to the idea of pressing unnecessary gifts to Keqing's side. For Ganyu to switch the topic so casually means the shallow magnitude of the atmosphere — Keqing surmised, anyway. She drops the idea of a meaningful indebtedness aside, keeps it this way, and simply follows.
"Is that so?" The gift is stored somewhere clean, tidy, away from Keqing's restless fingers. "Okay. Just tell me if there's anything else I can do for you. For the meantime…"
Ah, lunch. To cook or to eat out, a bracket of options Keqing can never easily decide on. She takes one glance towards her refrigerator, then to her stove, then to Ganyu who looks just as gawky in the middle of the kitchen.
"I'm sorry." Keqing flattens her palm against her forehead, clearly devoid of any decent approach. She heaves a quick sigh that leaves Ganyu confused to an extent, but Keqing only purses her lips at the cacophony of her worries. "I may have forgotten to prepare today's meal… as I usually do."
To her surprise, Ganyu simply laughs at the poor sentiment. "That's alright. You always eat out at Xiangling's, yes? I believe we still have the time to do so."
Scratch everything. Keqing was not prepared, and she felt absolutely embarrassed. On the first day at that, when Ganyu must have been expecting only the best out of Keqing's exposed confidentiality in and out of class. This was her time to show someone how professionalism is a subject of good decency, and she totally blew it off!
No matter. It's still necessarily early to do anything beyond her habits. Tomorrow, she'll have an entire menu written down from breakfast to dinner, and Keqing is certain she wouldn't have to bring Ganyu outside to save her from compromising.
Organize and arrange. Plan and succeed.
As Ganyu walks away to prepare, Keqing's shoulders deflate right after she gave a rather forced smile.
///
When they arrive at the riverside, Xiangling spots the difference almost immediately.
"Oh!" She rounds the stall to clean off the tables, but not before approaching the two. "In all my days of serving you two, never have I seen you arrive together at the same time."
Keqing settles at a nearby seat, making herself comfortable as she speaks, "We passed by at the same time coincidentally. No need to dwell on it."
That was all she gathered up for an excuse, until Ganyu took the other seat and sat across her, appeared to be baffled as she ponders on the excuse and the excuse alone. Xiangling stares at the arrangement with widened eyes and a creeping smile, releasing another quiet "Oh?" at the notion of Keqing being...
"You're friends now?"
She can't hide it now, no, not when Ganyu's gaze on her screams curiosity and confusion both at once. Surely disappointment would have to make an entrance if Keqing ends up using the wrong set of words, and she can't just assume Ganyu's sensitivity in the way she reacts.
So, Keqing, in all her outcast glory, heaves a breath through pursed lips. "Well, we've arrived now, so we might as well eat together. It's not a big deal."
"Yes, it is!" Xiangling hops quickly from the stall and back to the table with a notepad this time, in preparation for taking orders. It's never usually out when it's Keqing or Ganyu, for the food is prepared on the counter even before they declare their lunch preferences for the day. But seeing as the two are in one table, Xiangling only presumes the same difference in their diet.
"Since the dawn of time, I've never seen you eat with someone else. This place is, like, not suitable for the social pariah, you know? To fetch lunch with another means greater bonds and stronger connections, Keqing!"
Xiangling spares Ganyu a glance once, mouthing "The usual?" for confirmation, but Ganyu waves it off and asks for chickpea spinach salad instead. She turns to Keqing only to discern the weary look in her eyes, especially feeling an overpowered (friendly?) hostility emanating from her gaze alone. Xiangling mouths the same question, to which Keqing only raises her brows in acknowledgement, a sign of responding "Sure."
"If I intend on asking for Venti's word on this matter, I would have come to him instead," Keqing voices. "Just prepare the food, please. I'll pay you double if you let us be."
Ganyu gives Xiangling an apologetic smile as she nods, but Xiangling merely laughs it off with her usual vigor. The scent of fresh cooking arises from inside the stall right after Xiangling hopped back, and Ganyu turns to Keqing to analyze the everlasting solemnity plastered on her face.
"You and Xiangling must be very close," she says, flexing her fingers on top of the table.
Keqing tilts her head to the side, humming, her eyes not exactly meeting Ganyu's. "I have high hopes for her."
Now that her impatience is clear, it was easy for Keqing to spot the difference in Ganyu's disposition. She lifts a brow as if to ask, to which Ganyu returns with a question of her own, "Why didn't you tell her about my situation instead?"
The breeze passes by once more, carrying Ganyu's locks in the midst of its flight. Keqing feels the chill escalate in the dead of noon and wonders if the intensity of the sun has always reflected the frigidity of the season. If summer were to pass it wouldn't be this cold, but there would hardly be any difference in the winds that arise from the river alone.
"Xiangling entertains variety. All sorts of people come and go in these parts, using the kid as a leverage for local gossip," Keqing says, her growing frown evident enough to catch Ganyu by surprise. "While I trust Xiangling for confidentiality, her customers? I do not."
Ganyu juts her lip, perhaps interested enough to push through her curiosity at the sound of Keqing's detestation. Keqing can only surmise how Ganyu ought to internally rewind all the times she'd spend her days here at Wanmin, recalling if anyone was bound to suspicious activity beyond the dining. At first someone else would think of none, as those who eat leave as soon as they come.
Xiangling doesn't appear to be eager to stay in one place either with all the customers around, so that doesn't count as a support to a theory vague enough if never questioned. But Ganyu doesn't know the same way Keqing does, and it would have to take more than enough time to convince that Ganyu's name is just… prominent like that.
"It can't be that bad, no?" Ganyu asks instead. From the table she sticks her hands on her lap, folded. "I'm sure the majority of those who eat here are city locals interested in trying out regional specialties. I hardly see anyone from the university myself."
Keqing leans on the table, her distress evident in the way she places her elbow against the surface and rubs her forehead. "I suppose it's more of a personal experience for me. But you're right, it's not exactly that bad," she says anyway. "Though I'd like to be more cautious now that we'll be spending most of our time together. Your reputation around campus won't play light."
No one expects an apology for the lack of sentiment shared. The change of tone in Keqing's voice should have surprised Ganyu already, but Keqing can't pinpoint it as teasing either. The violinist should know enough to surmise that the student architect is far from doing so.
The closest thing Keqing would call it is that it must be a moment of rescue from the interrogation that might come her way, since all there is to both their minds is the mystery of each other they would have to live seven months with.
"Not really." Keqing finds no fault in Ganyu's chuckles and thinks, perhaps, how Yun Jin is right with the innocence of her approach. "I engage in extracurriculars very often, so it's no surprise they would say something as such. In truth, I don't have a large circle to begin with."
Now there is uncertainty in Keqing's throat. Does she ask for more? Is Ganyu expecting her to question her words? Should she feign interest in her personal life that she'd forget regardless? A never-ending rasp at the edge of her mouth irks her, that if Keqing were to speak, her words would come off offensive far from what she'd like to convey.
After all, her primary goal was to see Ganyu as a side factor that won't cause much change in her life. Then again, she's not heartless deep down — she cares, somewhat to an extent, but her boundaries are first of all significant to her routine.
Or was she just being dramatic at this point?
"You always talk like you have a brick in your mouth."
"Do you consider Yun Jin as a part of that circle, then?"
Ganyu nods. "Certainly. She's been nothing but kind to me since we've gotten close. I appreciate it."
Right on time does Xiangling arrive with their food, all hot and fresh from the kitchen that sends pleasure to Keqing's nostrils. There are still customers to attend to so Xiangling wastes no time in setting them up on the table, but Keqing could never have missed the wink directed to her and the skip in her step right after.
They both stay silent in the duration of their meals with Ganyu opting to start small conversations here and there. Keqing only nods each time for acknowledgement, one sentence suffices as feedback, never mind that Ganyu should carry more questions than answers for her behavior.
Keqing was known to be strict and iron-willed, but never to an extent she'd resort to lack of societal engagement. For her ambition to be so accentuated there's hardly enough room for miscellaneous ideas, cooped up in a portion of her mind somewhere only to be forgotten at the stage of adolescence. She would have to allow Ganyu to invest in the little time they have — if there's more to those eyes that dip in stern colors ever so often, uncaring of what the world has to offer.
Keqing hopes that Ganyu remains neutral. To ponder means to sleep on it, and that's the last thing Keqing wants on Ganyu's first night in her bedroom. There's a lot to unpack, though what matters is the girl has a place to stay, and Keqing's leniency says a lot more than she lets on.
///
The Parthenon has Keqing stoned.
And while it was more than tempting to take shots at a fraternity homecoming, she's down to her fourth cup of coffee that day, until dawn breached to greet her good morning.
Not to mention, it's hot. Has it always been this hot? Keqing doesn't remember, as well the minute she discards her shirt somewhere on the couch, and all that's left of her are sweatpants from the early twenties and an Adidas sports bra purloined from her sister's wardrobe before moving. Just yesterday Keqing swore it had been chilly that she refused to take a shower even after lunch, or if the case has always been directed to climate change then Keqing supposes it's only a matter of time until she could design a skyscraper so environmentally-friendly it harvests trees from the sides.
The thing is: Ganyu had just woken up. Quarter to nine, sociology for a first class, and breakfast is assumed waiting on the table as Keqing said prior. Though when she opens the door sleepy-eyed, the last thing she expects to see is a half-dressed Keqing sitting on a stool arched towards the drafting table, smoking a puff as she illustrates all at once.
"Oh—!"
When Keqing turns, she almost drops the cigarette to the carpet, and only out of instinct does she dispose of the stick at her emptied trash bin (she drops it, actually, only by coincidence is her carpet safe).
"Ganyu." There is panic lacing Keqing's voice despite her nonchalance. Ganyu herself only stares at the bedroom door, waiting for the silent signal of Keqing's decency to follow through.
She hears footsteps pad quickly as a result. "You can look now. Sorry."
When she turns around, Keqing is at least fully clothed. "Oh, no, I overreacted," Ganyu says as she walks to the table, and there she sees a plate of pancakes beside what she assumes are packets of hot chocolate to accommodate breakfast.
"If you feel uncomfortable with my actions, you're obligated to inform me." is what Keqing supplies after a moment of thought. "Sorry. I'm not used to having anyone around. So I tend to… abuse my liberty like that."
"That won't be necessary." Ganyu smiles anyway, activating the kettle and taking two mugs for preparation. "I don't mind at all. Though, I must admit, I didn't think you would be the type to smoke."
Keqing sits on the stool once more, tapping her fingers against her lap while watching Ganyu maneuver around from the kitchen back to the table. "I rarely do so, but I hate to say that it comes with distress, unfortunately. I always have a pack or two lying around for emergencies."
"Old habits die hard." Ganyu's laughter is soft, but it reverberates nonetheless in the silence of the morning atmosphere. She pours the boiling water on both mugs, evidently cautious in tilting the kettle. "I can hardly comprehend the toil in architecture, so it wouldn't be all that fair for you to listen to my criticism."
Keqing takes her eyewear off and folds them close. Ganyu prods her mug and a plate when she sees the student architect walking near, situating herself on the opposite end of the table.
"As long as Yun Jin never hears a word of it, you're fine."
Ganyu nods in acknowledgement. They eat breakfast together without much talk, as Keqing seems to be more invested in the junction down the road where authority decided to pick a bone with the ongoing construction across. That's what Ganyu observes, anyway, for Keqing to be hardly entertained with the idea of interaction; three weeks into this stay hypothesized that in between inquiry and small announcements are the only times she'd slip a word in, barely any input towards the state Ganyu would come home into or trivial concerns in general.
Keqing's lectures are slotted in the middle of Ganyu's, so Ganyu both leaves and arrives with Keqing on her stool, sketching edges into details and piecing together illustration boards with leftover adhesives.
The days would go by with the parthenon building itself way up, taking as much space at a portioned half of their table, careful not to smudge unwanted paint around. It was obvious that Keqing kept her reservations to herself, with the lack of communication needed to even get them through the day; she figured that her engineered concentration was enough to let Ganyu know the lack of time in her wake, no longer at the mercy for anything frivolous of the sort.
And Ganyu kept her space. Her departures were often in the day, the violin case hung around her back on the way out. Keqing's farewells were minimized to "Have a safe trip." and additional reminders in time for her arrival.
So far, it's been smooth — just how Keqing planned it would be. There's nothing else she could ask to prolong right now, otherwise, the second thoughts dwelling at the back of her head would have made most of the bad decisions known from before.
Ganyu is Ganyu, and Keqing is Keqing. In their own little worlds that the latter adores a little too much into their coexistence.