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Ever since he was young, Hikari has constantly been reminded he is a blight upon the world. And he believes it.
How can he not? Mugen berates him as a bastard, unable to carry the family name. His mother and father both died for his failures. Jin Mei died by his hand, though he cannot remember how it happened. Tsuki died standing at his side. Ritsu harbors jealousy of him to the point of betrayal, Rai Mei stays far away in the north, and his country lies in ruins because of his existence. Kazan remains an exception, shown by his charity in Montwise, but Hikari wonders where he draws the line between ally and pawn.
The only time he has ever felt like a blessing is standing amongst this group of travelers, wandering Solistia for various reasons. Seven strangers who know nothing of his past, or the curse that runs in his veins, yet they aid him all the same. And he lends his sword in turn: for Ochette’s hunt for legends, Cassti’s search for memories, Throné’s strain for freedom, Osvald’s pursuit for revenge, Agnea’s dances of hope, and Temenos’ inquisition of truth.
And Partitio. A strange man devoted to his commitment for happiness the world over.
Suppose they are all strange in some manner, but there is something enigmatic about Partitio. When he speaks, it is like he has known the other person for years, asking about all the little moments many tend to forget in their rush for success. He cracks through Osvald’s strict veneer and Throné’s brooding, eases the truth out of Temenos and Castti, while helping Agnea and Ochette shine brighter than the stars. And with Hikari, it is almost as if he knows the cure to set his heart at ease. His smile erases all doubt, his hands chase away pain, his eyes make him feel seen. The others do this too, but there is something gravitational about Partitio that brings him back. That makes him believe he is worthy.
He thought he had known it once, with Ritsu and Rai Mei, capturing glory on the Hinoeuman sands. But then he considers the gruesome aftermath of war, and he is faced with conflicting feelings. Rai Mei never graced the castle town with her presence, consorting only with her clan. Ritsu often spit on those lower than him in his drive to reach the top. Good friends they both were, but sometimes Hikari believes it is more than just his blood that separated their paths. Especially when he sees Partitio and the others roaming those same streets, giving succor to all in need and listening to their woes. When the merchant hears their stories about their prince and looks to him in wonder, eyes alight with something warm, Hikari’s heart skips several beats.
Hikari tries to fool himself into believing that there is nothing deeper between them, but it is those moments that make him question everything he has been brought to believe since he was young. He thinks, perhaps, it may be love, though he would never speak it aloud. There is too much blocking the way to that euphoric reality, and Hikari does not dare ruin what they already have together.
So really, Hikari should have seen it coming. All good things must come to an end.
Not one historian can explain how the curse in his blood works. He has searched every tome in Montwise on the subject, hoping for some salvation to rid him of it, but to no avail. There were records of previous kings of Ku, but not one strayed from the path of bloodshed. Some relished it, some argued it a necessity to keep peace. Two ends of a spectrum, and Hikari hates that his blood boils towards the former. His disgust seems to drive his bloodlust higher, enough to physically manifest in front of their very eyes in the Secret Woods, shadowed sword lined to his throat for friend and foe alike to see.
Embrace it, Hikari, it says, a gleeful smile on its lips. Embrace the shadow, and sate your hunger.
“Go… away…” he strangles out, still desperately reaching for his sword in his haze. But the force of the darkness has grown more powerful since it last manifested in Montwise, and it brings him to his knees.
The shadow makes a clicking noise, blade following Hikari’s descent to the ground. Sentimental fool. You cannot change who you know you are. You made your peace with that long ago. It shakes its head, lifting the sword. And it seems I must remind you.
“Hikari!”
The blade slashes forward, as swift as wind. No impact comes, but Hikari sees red all the same, snuffing out the sun in front of him as blood pools to the forest floor.
“Partitio!”
The blade retreats through skin and muscle, myriad shades of red spilling in its wake. The shadow dissipates with a frustrated, amused laugh. Yet Partitio ignores all of this in favor of smiling at him, despite how his knees wobble and his breath falters.
“Glad I got to ya in time… Couldn’t bear t’see you hurt.” He laughs through a wet cough. “Would break… my heart if I couldn’t see… your smile again…”
Partitio buckles, falls forward, full weight pressed against his shoulders.
Hikari screams. The world blurs.
The sun sets upon Wellgrove, clouds obscuring the night sky ominously. It smells of rain, something Hikari is unfamiliar with, and it adds to the growing ache in his heart as he sits perched on a chair in the inn’s main lobby. He barely remembers the last few hours; only that Partitio lies dying, and that it is his fault. White noise surrounds him, obscuring all but the view of his hands in his lap. The others keep their distance from him, and he does not blame them. If they had known what kind of monster he was back when they first met, Hikari knows they would not have invited him on their travels. History repeats itself.
And yet there is a vast difference in this case. Once others were scratched by his shadow, they scorned him. Demanded his head for his crimes. Haunted his dreams with their cries. Yet Partitio had smiled at him, looked at him like he was spun silver and gold, speaking as if his smile was priceless. It was a rare mercy, and he did not deserve it. One exception in a sea of agonized souls drowns quickly, he finds. Yet Hikari wants to know why . Why him? Was this one of Partitio’s eccentricities? This is the only thing that tethers him to their small group yet; without this answer, he feels it cowardice to part ways with them. Fatally honor-bound to the end, he supposes.
“I pray for the poor souls stuck in this downpour, though I’m sure they’re more than used to it by now.”
Hikari lifts his head. Light incarnate stands before him, if one were to believe in the gods’ will. “Have you come to render judgement for my crimes, Inquisitor?”
Temenos raises a brow, biting back a smirk. “I fear we’d be here for quite some time were that the case. And we’d all have something to answer for.”
“A fair point.” Hikari lets a moment of silence pass, lets the sound of rain pattering against the roof slowly break the mindspace he has created. “If not for that, then what?”
“Am I not allowed to check on the well-being of a friend?”
“I fear you will soon regret calling me that, if not already.” Temenos tilts his head slightly, a few strands of hair falling out of place.
“Perhaps, had we met in a different way. But I’ve been given no reason to doubt your character yet, circumstances aside. The same goes for the rest of our wayward lambs.”
“They keep their distance.”
“You value solitude when Solistia quakes under you, until you are ready to speak your mind. None would take that from you.”
Another moment passes in silence. The fire crackles in tandem with the rain’s pitter-patter. “Yet you approach me.”
“I figured you would like to know of Partitio.” Temenos sighs. The wind bristles. “Lost a lot of blood, but he will live. Our mother hen has made sure of that. We’ll remain in Wellgrove for a few days yet.”
“...That is good to hear.” It is, bar none, the best news he has heard in years.
“He is awake, should you wish to see him.” Hikari closes his eyes.
“My presence would not be unwelcome?”
“On the contrary, Partitio asked for you first upon waking. Flailed about until Castti forced him down.”
A curious notion, but something akin to warmth seeps into the chill he surrounds himself with, to know that Partitio seeks him out. To know that he was the first one on the merchant’s mind. And it fills him with a familiar sense of hesitation and fear. Many he has lost on this path to kingship, yet should he lose the others; should he lose Partitio …
Hikari sighs, opening his eyes. “I hurt him. I cannot bear it should he be hurt again by my presence.” Temenos frowns, a blazing blue flashing in his eyes. Hikari has seen it before, in Canalbrine and Crackridge, when a conundrum presented an extraordinary solution.
“T’was not you who did the deed, that I know for sure. As does Partitio.”
“And how can you be so certain?” Temenos does not answer immediately, his gaze affixed to the window, as if lost in thought. With a few blinks, he comes back to reality.
“‘Tis difficult to put into words. But I’d imagine, when you sink to your lowest, you will overcome your obstacles rather than succumb. As for the rest, Partitio would say it better than I would.” He laughs, a small thing meant for himself. “And perhaps some other things you should hear. But it is up to you should you wish to see him. I do not doubt his door will remain open to you whenever you are ready.”
Hikari has no retort to his deductions. They are as cryptic as they have always been, yet something hard within him melts. As if he has been waiting for permission to do what his heart desires, even should he fear the consequences. “Then I shall not waste his kindness. Please, guide me to him.”
Temenos snorts, but assents to his request. “Come then, my wayward lamb.”
Small candles light the hallways leading to Partitio’s room, casting looming shadows that hang over them as they walk. Hikari is reminded of a long-forgotten pastime: performing shadow puppet plays for the town children with his mother and Ritsu, banishing their fear of the dark. Now, only the flickering candlelight holds them at bay. The light under Partitio’s door is faint, casting no shadow, and it spreads as Temenos opens the door after two swift knocks, chasing the darkness away. Hikari dares not step into its warmth, despite the welcoming voice beckoning him in.
“Hikari! I'm glad to see you.”
Partitio’s eyes glow against the soft light of the room, and Hikari cannot bear to look at him. But when he turns to look elsewhere, he glimpses Temenos’ robes fluttering down the hall, a hummed farewell echoing in the dark that leaves them alone. So he gazes out the window, rain droplets trailing down the glass as he forces himself to step in, shutting the door behind him. “Temenos said you wished to see me.”
“Wanted to make sure you were okay. That was rough out there.”
“Against General Rou? He is Ku’s Bull, after all--”
“Hikari. No need to throw up pretenses with me. I ain’t gonna judge.”
He takes a deep breath, trying not to drown again, and finally forces himself to look at Partitio. He is propped against several pillows, shirtless save for a large bandage wrapped around his chest. Despite Castti’s best work, specks of red dot the center and some edges, threatening to spill. Even so, Partitio seems in good enough cheer, with a soft smile on his face and an outstretched hand meant for him. “And I ain’t gonna bite, neither.”
“The opposite may prove true, however.” Partitio’s smile flattens, but only slightly.
“It won’t. I trust ya, Hikari.”
Trust ? That word is foreign to him, lost in the fires of his homeland since his mother passed. Hikari often finds that trust is an illusion meant to lower his defenses, until his enemies leave his heart wounded. He sees how it has impacted his fellow travelers; how Osvald’s investment in friendship ends with revenge, how Castti’s kind outreach started one’s path to nihilistic salvation. Partitio has seen the same, facing down a man hellbent on dominating the world’s economy. Yet Hikari watches the merchant extend a helping hand to all time and again, even if they have harmed him before. It is disarming. It is enchanting.
With another deep breath, Hikari slowly approaches the bed, sitting where Partitio is patting down the comforter. Up close, he shines brighter than the desert sun, his smile wide. “See, there we go!”
“...You are a strange man, Partitio.”
“Ha! Been told that many times for many reasons.”
“I hurt you, yet you allow me to sit by your side. You say you trust me, immediately worrying over me rather than yourself.”
“Yep. Ain’t going back on that.”
“ Why? ” Hikari is surprised at how raw his voice sounds, how close to a whisper it is. His chest aches, welling up again to protect him from another betrayal. Something makes his eyes sting, makes the room blur at the edges. He has not felt like this since he was young, freshly scared of himself and forced to reckon with his mother and Jin Mei’s deaths. “You know what I’m capable of, and yet--”
“Hold yer horses there. You’re right; I know what you’re capable of.” Hikari flinches, but Partitio continues. “I’ve seen it all. When you struggle, you never fail to make the right choice. When others suffer, you show kindness. You’ve walked a long road, partner, and you still stand tall. Whether you liked it or not, you’ve trusted us t’see the best and worst of you. It’s no easy thing, but I’m glad ya did. Shucks, I admire you for it. Reaffirms how I feel about ya an’ all, y’know?”
Partitio’s cheeks flush bright pink, but his voice does not waver, never dips into regret or fear. It is the same as when Osvald reminisces on his wife, or when Castti holds a snowdrop flower close to her chest. Yet people say one thing only to mean another. Hikari cannot afford another heartbreak.
“That being…?”
“That I love you, shadow an’ all.”
Oh.
The shadow’s hold breaks.
“Hikari? H-Hey, it’s alright. C’mere, yeah, there ya go. That’s it. You’re alright, Hikari…”
Ever since he was young, Hikari has constantly been reminded he is a blight upon the world. Red has stained his footsteps, his shadow a monstrosity many fear enough to try and kill. Many died trying. Few tried to understand it, none ever did. His upbringing has warped his perception of the world, and while his heart ever bleeds for his people, his mind shelters him in solitude. It has been a lonesome path; one he has always been proud to bear if it saves others from suffering.
Now, bathed in yellow and warmth and light, Hikari cannot imagine how he bore it for so long. How he preferred suffering to the way Partitio’s hands slide up and down his back, pressing reassurances deep into his muscles so that when he aches come dawn, he will remember this moment. How Partitio’s soft lips caress his forehead, his cheek, his neck, whispering all the words that none have dared to feed him, close enough to reverberate through his whole body. How Partitio holds him close, chest to bandaged chest, letting Hikari listen to the beat of his heart, slow but strong and steady. Proof that he is alive. Despite everything, he chooses Hikari.
And when Partitio eventually tilts his chin up to face him, wiping his tears away with gentle swipes of his thumbs and pressing their lips together tenderly, Hikari finally lets himself trust again.