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It wasn't uncommon for [the Wanderer] to spend evenings with Kazuha in Sumeru.
They never made actual plans to meet. Most of the time, the wandering samurai would spot him, call his name, and greet him, telling him how the wind had guided them to cross paths again. Eventually, [the Wanderer] began to be the one in search of his company, and the young man didn't refuse.
They wouldn't exchange a lot of words at their first friendly encounters, since [the Wanderer] wasn't a fan of idle chatting. To break the ice, Kazuha would frequently make comments about the beauty of the landscape, but he would only get a few hums in return.
This didn't bother him, however. As perceptive as he is, he knew his words were being attentively received. It wasn't far from the truth that the boy with the hat was growing fonder of those silly conversations with each passing day.
One night, Kazuha showed up with the wonderful idea of visiting a renowned tavern in Port Ormos for a change. With reluctance, [the Wanderer] accepted the offer.
At this point, Kazuha was well aware of his past deeds and true nature. He thought it would be interesting to help him lower his guard and enjoy himself for once in his lifetime. The poor boy deserved a moment of leisure after all.
Despite being completely honest, [The Wanderer] forgot to mention one minor detail: he couldn't get drunk. He was a puppet, after all.
The boy didn't have the soul to let him know, though, as he seemed very enthusiastic about taking him for a drink. At least he was able to enjoy the aftertaste of alcohol.
Kazuha wasn't very familiar with the local customs, so he let his companion decide for the both of them. He didn't bother and told the waitress to bring them whatever she considered to be the house specialty.
And so she did.
The food captured Kazuha's attention immediately, so [the Wanderer] let him have it all. He didn't need to eat anyway, and Sumeru's cuisine wasn't much to his liking.
Therefore, [the Wanderer] was the first to grab his glass to take a sip of the drink. Before he could even put it on his lips, he knew that it would give the common mortals the worst hangover of their lives the morning after.
When Kazuha asked him how it was, he merely said it was alright. He wasn't going to spoil the fun by warning him, and the face he made when it was his turn was priceless.
The young man was barely finishing his first glass when [the Wanderer] was already ordering his third, not because he liked it, but to encourage him to keep going.
"Wow, this is quite strong, don't you think?"
"I didn't know the descendant of the Kaedehara clan was such a lightweight! In that case, I would have ordered us some fruit juice."
Kazuha let slip a small giggle, which didn't go unnoticed.
"You held me in such high esteem! I never said I was a regular at taverns. I may not be a drinker, but tonight, I shall make an exception in your honor."
And then the samurai finished his last drop.
[The Wanderer] was surprisingly at a loss for a snarky comeback this time. He quietly sipped his own drink while Kazuha proceeded to ask for his second glass of the night at the bar.
He took a quick glance at him while he was looking away. His cheeks were already bright red, and he could barely walk in a straight line. The boy was already wondering how he was going to carry him back to the inn where he was staying.
Suddenly, he felt something poking his arm, interrupting his thoughts. When he turned around, he saw Kazuha holding a long, shiny pipe. It was already lit, and judging by the scent in the air, the young man had already taken a puff.
"It's tobacco, I always carry some with me. It became an habit when I was sailing with Beidou." He handed him the metal object.
[The Wanderer] took the pipe between his fingers and indulged. When was the last time he smoked? He recalls doing it during his days as The Balladeer. Even though he couldn't perceive the effect it was supposed to deliver, the taste felt nice in his mouth.
He kept his musings for himself and simply hummed in contentment.
Kazuha finished the second glass with a lot more ease. [The Wanderer] was now certain that he wouldn't let him have another one based on the way he began to drag his words out and laugh more frequently (and louder). He wasn't willing to clean up after a drunkard's mess.
"[Wanderer]... Are you having fun?"
During their conversation, the white-haired man inquired, taking another puff from his pipe.
Am I having fun? The puppet repeated the question inside his head. He truly doesn't remember a time when he could say he felt like this, and committing atrocities didn't count as fun either way.
He has pleasant memories; he didn't deny that, but nothing that completely fits the definition of having fun.
[The Wanderer] sighed and looked at his partner beside him, noticing the glint of curiosity in his eyes. Kazuha always had a peaceful and kind expression on his face, but probably this was the first time he had seen him with such a wide smile decorating his features. It was heartwarming.
Feeling embarrassed, he diverted his gaze, and a slight heat began to creep upon his cheeks. He thought, maybe I am a bit drunk as well.
"If having to listen to your befuddled gibberish counts as fun, then yes, I am quite entertained." Kazuha squealed after hearing his response. Oh, Archons.
"I am--" A hiccup had cut him.
"I am very glad to hear that; that means my wish... has been fulfilled."
[The Wanderer] chuckled. He didn't know how to react after learning that this hangout was meant for him to enjoy.
"You're a fool." he replied, with a smile almost as bright as Kazuha's.
"Of course. Here, finish it; I'll hold it for you." The young samurai leaned closer and put the pipe right in front of his lips. He stared at him for a few seconds, lifting an eyebrow, before happily obliging. His hand was surprisingly steady despite his current state.
He smoked the remaining tobacco in silence, but it was a comfortable one between the two of them.
It was late already; only a few customers remained, and the keepers were starting to clean up the empty tables. Eventually, they would have to tell them to leave.
[The Wanderer] didn't care, though. He allowed himself to savor this moment as much as he could. For a brief instant, he felt like an ordinary human.