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Death does not wait for the sun to rise.
Nor does it wait for joy, mirth, or sadness or misery to show up.
It arrives silently, in peace, and quietly waits for its soon-to-be guest, waiting for them to greet it like an old friend and accept their final fate in peace.
It comes not as a threat, but as the inevitable. And that is why it is so gentle in nature. So gentle and comforting.
Which is why the pale and frail man does not feel the slightest bit of fear when his gaze falls upon the shrouded, misty figure that stands at the foot of his bed.
The sun has yet to rise, the skies in the east shine in shades of beautiful blue, green and yellow, unmarred by clouds.
“What a beautiful day to pass away, is it not?” The man weakly smiles, his once-lustrous green hair falling limply to his back, spread across the bed.
The shadowy figure says nothing. It merely flutters in the air.
Had someone told Doctor Baizhu a few months ago, that he would be having a conversation with Death himself, Baizhu would have laughed and dismissed it as mere banter.
But now, in this moment, it is not at all surprising.
Neither is it scary.
Nor is it painful.
It’s just… there. It’s happening. Nothing more, nothing less.
He has woken up to be greeted by Death, instead of his little Qiqi, and he has accepted the situation without any questions.
Speaking of Qiqi…where is she?
Baizhu looks around his little room, and finds the girl sleeping while sitting on a stool.
Her head rests against the wall, her pale purple hair reminding him of snow.
Qiqi loves winters. Baizhu smiles, recalling the cold winters they’ve spent in their cozy little apartment, with Baizhu knitting her the pretty baby blue sweater she is now wearing, with the child sitting at his feet, reading a little book of fairy tales.
Those were good times.
But alas, happiness is not eternal.
But at least he has drunk from the fountain of happiness to his fill.
He has no more greed.
And as memories of his life gently play in his mind, like a montage, he leans back into his soft, sterile pillow, breathing in the comforting fragrance of disinfectants, and again lulling himself to sleep.
When Baizhu wakes up again, his eyes are briefly blinded by the brightness of the pure white room he is admitted in.
“Ah. You’re awake.”
A cold and clear voice beckons him.
Baizhu weakly looks towards the door.
Qiqi is no longer in the room. He looks outside the window. There she is, playing with a white haired girl of her own age.
Relieved at finding the child occupied in games, he turns back to the person who roused him from what would possibly be his last sleep.
A pair of sharp, bright, teal eyes stare at him. “Good Morning, Doctor Baizhu.”
“Please, my title no longer means anything to me. But it’s a pleasant surprise, seeing you here, Doctor Alhaitham.” Baizhu smiles.
“Hm. They called me here urgently. I took the first high-speed rail from Sumeru City.” Alhaitham checks a file.
There is a pregnant silence in the air, as the doctor from Sumeru peruses the papers with an impassive look in his eyes.
But Baizhu has been a doctor for ten years. He can read micro expressions like an open book. And he already knows what Alhaitham will say to him.
After inspecting the file thoroughly, Alhaitham quietly stares at Baizhu for a few minutes.
“You barely have a few hours left.” He whispers.
And no one speaks a word. The silence has said everything.
“Do I?” Baizhu smiles a defeated but peaceful smile.
“How long had you known?” Alhaitham pursed his lips.
“The day I collapsed in the church was the day I found out.” Baizhu looks outside, watching the two children.
“Is that your daughter?” Baizhu smiles.
“Hm. We call her Nahida.” Alhaitham keeps reading the file.
“A lovely name. As expected of you.”
“Actually, Kaveh named her when we brought her home. She was a weak little baby…swaddled and looking like a little pita pocket” Alhaitham closes his eyes and tilts his head back, giggling lightly.
“We had brought her to you for urgent treatment, don’t you remember?”
“Ah, is that her?” Baizhu exclaims, looking again at the white-haired child, playing hopscotch with Qiqi. “Goodness, how time flies...”
“It flies swiftly and unpredictably…look at you, the doctor who roused that child from near death is himself today at the threshold of life and death.” Alhaitham clenches his brows.
“And I can do nothing.”
Baizhu looks at Alhaitham in surprise. The silver-haired doctor, five years his junior, has never lost his cool. Until now.
“My most important test…and I’m bound to fail. Why was I late? Why did it have to be you? There’s no scope of recovery today. What a cruel joke.” Alhaitham shivers in his seat.
They both sit in silence. Baizhu doesn’t know how to react to his junior’s outburst. He can only stare.
Alhaitham stands up, defeated.
“I’ll get myself a cup of coffee.” He says to no one in particular as he leaves the sterile, white chamber. “Be back in five.”
And Baizhu is all alone.
Well, save for the dark figure at the corner of the room. It’s now perfectly visible, and to Baizhu’s surprise, it looks like a young boy.
“To think that Death would be but a child such as yourself…” Baizhu looks at the boy in the room.
“Hmph. So you can see me. That spares me a lot of hassle.” The boy replies his voice gruff.
“I am here to escort your soul to the Afterlife. You may call me Xiao.” Xiao sits down on the chair at the corner of the room, solemnly staring at Baizhu.
“Xiao,” Baizhu tests his name. “How long have you been escorting souls to the Afterlife?”
“I’ve never counted the years. It’s been me since the first human had ever died.” Xiao replies curtly, but not rudely. “All that matters is that most of the people I’ve sent to the Afterlife have always been at peace.”
Baizhu silently stares at him.
“And what about you? Are you at peace?”
“I…” Baizhu begins, hesitant.
“Do not hesitate to name your wish, if you have any. If it is in my power, I shall make sure that it is fulfilled.” Xiao responds.
“…would I be overstepping my boundaries if I asked you to wait for a bit?” Baizhu smiles sadly. "There are some things I must do before I leave.”
“You wish to stall death?” Xiao narrows his eyes.
“Not at all.” Baizhu shakes his head. “I must take care of something very, very important to me.”
Xiao stares on.
“Had it been in my power, I’d have even cheated death to make sure it was fulfilled, but I am only a mortal. There is only so much I can do.”
“You speak bold words there, Baizhu.” Xiao hisses, not menacingly. “But call my name when you finish what it is you need to do. And I shall take you away.”
“You shall be most welcome.” Baizhu smiles, a weak cough throwing him back to the pillows.
And Xiao disappears in a cloud of black and teal smoke.
Baizhu leans back on his pillows, staring at the ceiling above.
He has promised to give his soul up to Death incarnate himself.
He chuckles to himself.
Weeks ago he would have thought of his current situation as nigh unthinkable.
He remembers it as clear as day.
How he had been sitting at a bar with three of his dear friends, discussing their lives in elegant banter.
Zhongli was a happy man, for he had just been married to the love of his life. The three had been invited to his wedding, and surely enough, the sight of Zhongli walking down the aisle with his bride had filled their hearts with their own dreams of a happy life ahead.
Baizhu was perhaps the happiest of them all. He had known Zhongli since kindergarten, their friendship was as thick as blood, and he was more or less a brother to him by now.
His happiness was, unfortunately more than what his heart could take.
Throughout the ceremony, his heart ached in spasms and stabs. He soon found himself clutching onto Alhaitham’s shoulder, with a pale visage.
Alhaitham was too busy watching the couple exchange their vows, and it wasn’t until Kaveh urgently called for his attention that he saw Baizhu collapsed onto the blonde man’s shoulder, his hand gripping onto Alhaitham’s coattails with a vice-like grip.
And that was the beginning of the end.
Baizhu’s heart still spasms weakly at the memory of everyone’s panicked faces, especially Alhaitham’s, whose irises were practically shaking at the sight of him crumpling to the floor.
And speaking of which, Alhaitham immediately walks in with a cup of coffee. He is followed by Nahida and Qiqi, who carry fistful of crayons and papers in their little hands and march into the room.
Baizhu smiles at the little parade.
“I met Doctor Gullsson in the aisle.” Alhaitham announces. “He gave these art supplies to the girls.”
“He has taken great care of me during my time here.” Baizhu smiles his comforting smile. But it’s no longer the fresh smile his patients remember him for.
His visage has grown paler by the minute. Alhaitham cannot help but wince at the sorry sight of his dear friend in this state.
“…Why do you look sad, Alhaitham?” Baizhu weakly reaches out for Alhaitham’s hand.
“Kaveh once told me that the brightest fires extinguish the fastest. I don’t remember the context of our conversation” Alhaitham looks at the dark ripples of his coffee. “I… I never thought that you’d be exactly that kind of fire.”
“I… I just- forgive me.” He looks at the floor. Nahida and Qiqi are regaling themselves with drawing.
“I still cannot believe this…”
“Do you pity me, Alhaitham?”
Alhaitham looks at Baizhu, who stares at him with uncanny severity.
“I…do not.” Alhaitham responds.
“Good. Give me your hand.”
Alhaitham holds out his hand. Baizhu weakly takes it, and runs his soft fingers over his wrist.
“Between I, who am going to go away today, and you, who still has more than sixty years of a healthy life to live… who do you think should you worry about?” Baizhu looks up at Alhaitham, a tender smile on his face.
“You’re going nowhere,” Alhaitham sourly speaks, but Baizhu has a serene look on his face.
“My favorite flowers are chrysanthemums, white like the snow.” Baizhu cryptically smiles and stares into his rich, teal eyes in silence.
It is the look of someone who knows his time has come. And Alhaitham can do nothing but look into those steadily weakening golden eyes.
They do not speak for a while.
“Doctor Baizhu…?” A soft and flat voice now calls from the side.
The two men look at the bedside, to see Qiqi trying to climb up on the bed.
Alhaitham rushes to the side and hoists Qiqi up. He pulls up the rails for good measure, so that the child does not fall and hurt herself.
“Oof.” She plops onto the soft bedding and looks at Baizhu, who is affectionately smiling at her. Qiqi does not smile.
She never smiles.
But to Baizhu, that’s okay. He smiles enough for the two of them.
“There you are. I was wondering that you’d have forgotten your poor old Papa over your friend here.” He laughed softly.
“I… made this for you.” Qiqi hands a paper to Baizhu.
On it, there is a drawing of a strange pink squiggly creature, with two cacti on its head.
Beside the creature, a crude drawing of Qiqi and Baizhu stand together, with two tumblers in their hands.
“What a brilliant drawing this is! Makes me want to put it up on our fridge.” Baizhu smiles at her. “What might this be, Qiqi?”
“It’s me and Doctor Baizhu, and a cocogoat.” The reply comes immediately.
“A cocogoat?”
“Hm.” Qiqi solemnly nods. “Coco milk comes from cocogoats. I like coco milk.”
Alhaitham looks at the two with amusement.
“Ah, I see. Well then, Papa shall bring you a big, healthy cocogoat then.” Baizhu smiles. “So you can have all the coco milk you want.”
“Yay.” Qiqi emotionlessly claps, and gets down from the bed.
Alhaitham curiously looks at her as she climbs on a little stool near the French windows and sits quietly, staring at a bunch of finches outside.
“So… this is Qiqi.” Alhaitham looks at Baizhu.
“Yes.” Baizhu smiles.
“She’s…an interesting child.”
“I know you have many questions. But the answer to all of them is her dementia.”
Alhaitham looks at Qiqi. She remains unmoving.
“…I see.”
Baizhu smiles sadly. “The child was born with death as her shadow. Not very different from me… Perhaps it was fate that brought me to her on that rainy night.”
“How long does she have?” Alhaitham quietly asks.
“Qiqi may live till eighteen. She’s six now.” Baizhu replies, equally quiet.
No one speaks for a while.
After a while, a pattering of footsteps echoes across the little chamber. The two men curiously peer at Nahida, who walks upto Alhaitham and hands him something. Baizhu tries to look at what she has given him.
“This is for the nice uncle.” Nahida peers at him from beside Alhaitham.
And Alhaitham dutifully deposits a miniature origami figure of a dragon in his hand.
It is incredibly detailed, with even a serrated tail. Baizhu can only stare at it in awe.
“This is magnificent.” He whispers, then looks at Nahida with a warm smile. “Thank you, Nahida. Uncle Baizhu will cherish it forever.”
And Nahida shyly smiles and hides behind Alhaitham’s white coat.
“She’s still very shy around strangers.” Alhaitham pats her on the head as she scoots back to Qiqi, showing off her origami skills.
“I don’t mind. It’s not like she’ll remember me very well.” Baizhu sighs.
“Speaking of which, why is Nahida accompanying you here in Liyue?”
“Kaveh is busy with a very important project. The Academy is expanding its franchise to far-flung places like Aaru Village, and so, they need a campus designed to withstand the desert climate. Kaveh’s in Aaru Village, in short.” Alhaitham replies.
“I see. I hope that you and Kaveh are not compromising on your health to focus on your careers.” Baizhu wistfully looks at him.
“When duty calls, both of us fully commit ourselves to our work. You know that, right?”
“And that is precisely what has brought me here.” Baizhu softly says.
Alhaitham silently stares. He overworked himself.
“Life is precious, Alhaitham. Cherish your years to the fullest. Spend time with Nahida and Kaveh, make the most of your days off.” Baizhu weakly holds his hand and looks at him with a pleading look.
“I am guilty of leaving Qiqi behind due to my own foolhardiness. Please do not end up like me.”
“Would you like me to take in Qiqi?” Alhaitham asks.
“Eh?” Baizhu blinks.
“I will take care of Qiqi.” Alhaitham repeats himself.
“Thank you, Alhaitham, but that won’t be necessary.” Baizhu smiles and looks at his free hand.
Baizhu quietly looks at the little origami beast, and then softly places it on his bedside table. Alhaitham wants to open his mouth to question him about it, but a soft knock on the door interrupts him.
“Oh, he’s right on time.” Baizhu smiles.
“As always. The time of departure.”
Alhaitham opens the door, only to be met with a pair of rich and solemn amber eyes. He can recognize this face even in his sleep.
“Greetings, Professor Zhongli.” Alhaitham nods.
“Ah, if it isn’t Doctor Alhaitham.” Zhongli politely bows and enters inside. He is followed by a short blonde man, pushing a wheelchair into the room. “Doctor Gullsson was kind enough to guide me here.”
“Please, why can’t you call me Albedo like you do at the club?” Albedo groans while setting the wheelchair beside the bed.
“You know he’s polite to a fault. Let loose a little, old man!” Baizhu grins.
They laugh, like the good old days.
But their laughs are strained. For they all know the dark mood that looms in the air.
“All right then, gentlemen.” Albedo clears his throat. “Help me hoist him into the wheelchair, would you? A little sunshine a day ought to do you good.”
Alhaitham and Zhongli help Baizhu sit up, and then, their strong arms hoist the frail man into the chair.
They both look at each other in tense understanding.
He is as light as a feather. Almost as if he is merely an illusion in their presence.
“That’s good. Thank you,” Albedo walks to the windows and opens the door. “Zhongli, why don’t you take him out while Alhaitham and I check on his reports?”
Zhongli nods and pushes the chair ahead. Qiqi sees Baizhu scuttling past her and makes to get off the stool, but Baizhu stops her.
“Qiqi, why don’t you play with Nahida for a bit longer? I’ll see you in a few minutes.” He smiles.
And Qiqi, as always, placidly nods and sits down on the cool tiles, observing Nahida folding paper into little cranes.
The two doctors stand near the door, watching the other two men move across the lawn, and the two children lost in their own games.
“About Doctor Baizhu’s condition…” Albedo starts, testily.
“Does he really have less than a few hours left?”
“It’s a miracle he held on this long. Look at this.” Alhaitham passes his file to Albedo. He reads it with a pensive face.
“A massive heart attack, followed by multiple organ failure…” He sighs. “He could have never been saved.”
“He had known this all along.” Alhaitham answers, his voice soft.
“And that is why I suppose Zhongli’s made such an unusual call here?” Albedo looks outside. “He’s always busy with lectures and conferences, it’s Lumine and Aether I see on a daily basis.”
“Baizhu had named him as Qiqi’s legal guardian, I guess.” Alhaitham looks at the little paper dragon on the table.
“And I think he couldn’t have made a better choice.”
“…But does Zhongli know of Qiqi’s condition?” Albedo looks at the silver-haired doctor. The doctor nods in response.
“I think they’re discussing about it over there.”
“But fate has been kind to Qiqi, in a twisted way.” Alhaitham continues. “She’s still too young to understand the notion of death. Her addled mind continues to worsen by the day, and only the most patient spirit can continue to love her unconditionally. And Zhongli and Lumine are the most patient, considerate and selfless people I’ve ever known. They’ll make wonderful parents. But…perhaps her own impending death might shatter them when it comes to pass.” He looks at Qiqi.
“Ah…” Albedo sighs in sadness, gazing at the lavender haired little girl who sits quietly on a chair, facing the spotless windows, staring at the little finches who hop outside in the little garden.
“Such is the will of fate, I suppose.”
Far in the lawn of the hospital, under the shade of the verdant trees, Baizhu sits in his wheelchair, accompanied by his dearest friend.
“And, friend? How is life treating you?” Baizhu smiles.
“I have everything I could ask for. Stability, good health, and Lumine at my side.” Zhongli smiles.
“I’m happy to hear that. May your life remain as tranquil and blessed as ever.” Baizhu closes his eyes and lets the sunlight caress his nose.
The winds caress his face, and he is reminded of the time that is flying by very fast.
“Zhongli…I do not have much time left.” He suddenly whispers, a strain audible in his voice.
“So… the time has come to bid you farewell.” Zhongli does not question it. He does not deny it.
He just accepts it like Baizhu had accepted it on the day he woke up in the hospital, the blinding white lights reminding of his own fragility.
“Can I sleep in peace, knowing that you will take care of Qiqi?”
“But of course. She is like my own daughter.” Zhongli smiles, a little sadly. “This goes beyond our promise. Even if I had not given you my word, I’d still protect her with my life.”
“Qiqi wouldn’t question it at all.” Baizhu smiles, looking longingly at the beams of sunlight filtering through the leaves. “She sees you and Lumine as practically family… all I need to tell her is to wait for me, and she’d never question it.” He sighs.
“I suppose that it’s best to keep it that way.” Zhongli takes a sip of his coffee. It’s cold and bitter. “Her own life is decidedly ephemeral, and I shall make sure that in her remaining years, she’ll have no dearth of love to compensate for the time lost.”
“You know about Qiqi…?” Baizhu looks at Zhongli with uncertainty. The raven-haired man nods.
“That makes explanation redundant. All I can now hope is that we both shall not be a burden to you…”
“What on earth are you saying?!” Zhongli looks art him, scandalously. “Do you hear yourself?”
“What can I do, Zhongli?” Baizhu for the first time looks at him with panic on his face. “Qiqi is my daughter... Of course I worry about everything related to her! I do not distrust you, do not get me wrong: it’s just that you’re a most busy man, and so is Lumine… I just don’t wish to be a burden to anyone in death.” Tears fall down his pale face, his golden eyes dimming rapidly.
“You’re not a burden, Baizhu.” Zhongli stoically replies. “I already told you: Lumine and I see Qiqi as our own daughter. You’re like a brother to me. How could I abandon my family?”
“Promise me that at least you shall never forget me, Zhongli.” Baizhu tenderly holds on to the Professor’s slender fingers, as he senses the familiar black smoke manifest in the hospital room.
“You have my word, Baizhu. You shall be remembered as long as the sun rises in the east.”
Zhongli tenderly hugs his friend for what would be the last time.
They remain in an embrace for what feels like an eternity.
But even eternity flies past like a second, as Baizhu gently pulls away.
“Let us go back… my time has come.” He smiles to no one in particular, and Zhongli wearily pushes him back to the building, tears streaming his face.
“Ah, my heart feels… like I could fly into the air.” Baizhu smiles as he lies on his bed, tilted just enough to look at everyone surrounding him. His voice has fallen to a mere whisper.
Alhaitham, Zhongli and Albedo stand at the foot of his bed, quietly watching him. At some point in time, Aether and Lumine had arrived on their daily visit to Baizhu, though their faces tell him they know that it will be the last time they see him. Aether’s lips are pursed. Lumine holds on to Zhongli’s hands, trying her best to not cry. Qiqi is again sitting on his bedside, peering at him with unmoving plum eyes.
“It is… a matter of great fortune that I am… surrounded by loved ones today.”
“Baizhu… thank you for everything.” Aether whispers.
“You will forever be in our hearts.” Lumine adds softly.
Baizhu’s eyes slowly gloss over, a strong sleep overpowering him.
Mustering the last of his strength, he looks at Zhongli. “Please… take Qiqi home. She shouldn’t see me like this.”
Zhongli nods and holds his hand out for Qiqi. “Come, Qiqi. Let us get something to eat.” But Qiqi, unlike other days, does not readily jump into his arms. Her focus is only on the dying man in front of her.
“Doctor Baizhu?” Qiqi calls him, with an unnatural clarity to her voice.
Her eyes look at him in vivid fear.
“Where are you going?”
Humans, even in a daze, sense primal instincts as clear as day.
It comes as no surprise that a even a child can be intuitive enough to know when a person is never going to return.
The adults in the room look at each other in alarm. How are they to explain this to the little girl?
“Fear not Qiqi…” Baizhu smiles, running his hand over her soft, lavender hair. “Papa is going on an adventure… He’s- he’s going to find you the cocogoat you wanted all along.” He smiles, his voice painfully straining.
“NO!” Qiqi yells, throwing her hands over Baizhu’s neck as Zhongli gently tries to lift her in his arms.
“I DON’T WANT A COCOGOAT!” She wails. “DON’T GO, DOCTOR BAIZHU!” She howls. She does not know why she is crying. But something tells her that she is going to lose someone very precious to her.
She cries for life, clinging onto her foster father, pristine white robes crumpled in her little fists.
The room’s ambience has collapsed. Lumine cries into Aether’s shoulder, Aether looks at the ceiling, tears streaming down his face.
Zhongli has turned away, dabbing at his eyes with his gold-laced handkerchief.
Even Alhaitham has let go of his calm demeanor, his eyes glistening in tears.
Baizhu… how long can he hide his own distress?
“Qiqi…” he finally relents, and hugs the little child, crying with all that he has left in him. He does not want to die. But such is the world’s wish. He must leave today. But how can he, without the little finch he had raised since she was but a little chick, just hatched and too weak to survive on her own?
Xiao quietly stands there, knowing fully well that no human will truly ever accept death. But he honors Baizhu for taking it in stride. He honors him by waiting a bit longer.
Burning tears fall down Baizhu’s cheeks, his breath hitching. He tightly hugs Qiqi with the last remnants of his strength, and what he does next again silences the entire room, as if they’re giving the father and daughter one last moment of peace.
He shushes the little child, rocking her in his weak embrace, singing the same little lullaby he has always sung to her at bedtime.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray…
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away…”
And Qiqi quietens down, like a baby.
Her grip on Baizhu’s clothes loosen. Her face remains nuzzled in his chest, listening to the weakening heartbeat that has always calmed her in times of distress.
“No matter where I am… No matter how far in time… Papa will always love, treasure and protect you… my little Qiqi…” Baizhu whispers to her.
And with those final words, his lips freeze in time.
As his consciousness finally fades into lightless black, he sees one final vision.
He sees himself in his little apartment, cradling a little baby, crying for life. He rocks her gently, singing a little song. And like clockwork, the baby gurgles and quietens.
“Oh…finally asleep?” He testily looks at the baby, who peeks at him with glazed plum eyes. “You’ve been through so much in the few months that you’ve been here, haven’t you? But don’t worry… for poor old, lonely Doctor Baizhu will take care of you… no…”
He nuzzles the little forehead and places a tender kiss. “Papa will protect you…”
His eyes fall on the calendar.
It’s the 7th of July. Today, his house has been graced with a new member. His own family. Such a blessed day calls for celebration.
“…my little Qiqi.” He smiles as he christens her, the little baby falling asleep soundly, his index finger snug in her little grasp.
And then his heartbeat stills forever.
Time moves on like it has always done.
But the frail doctor was left in the past.
But he died a happy and blessed man.
His sunshine was the most important person who had stayed by his side till the very end.
And that was all that mattered.
There is a pregnant silence in the air.
It’s heavy. And at the same time, it’s peaceful.
Nahida cannot understand why her father is holding on to her so tightly, and she cannot understand why he, and the other uncles and the aunty in the room are crying.
The nice, green-haired uncle... the one who always gave her the nicest toffees to eat whenever she visited him when she was sick… he’s only sleeping, isn’t he?
“Papa?” She calls Alhaitham. He looks down at her, his tear-stained cheeks and his sniffling red nose a sorry sight.
“Uncle’s sleeping… It’s bad manners to bother him.” She babbles in tender innocence.
Alhaitham does not answer her. Which is odd, since he’s never shot down any of her curious questions.
He only tenderly kisses her on the crown, and looks at Albedo.
“I’ll drop her off at my office. Will be back in a bit.”
Albedo nods.
Qiqi looks up after a few minutes, realizing that the voice, as well as the heartbeat has stopped. The arms that had always held her in their secure embrace now feel stiff and icy.
Like the snowfall.
But Baizhu is only fast asleep, the beautiful smile grazing his porcelain face being convincing enough.
“He is sleeping…” Qiqi turns around and looks at the people in the room, tears streaming down her face.
Zhongli nods. “Yes, Qiqi. Papa is sleeping.” He whispers.
The farewell between a father and his daughter does not end with goodbyes. For all has been said before, and nothing else was now left to be known.
Albedo moves to unfurl Baizhu’s stiff arms, and gently lifts Qiqi up. She protests no longer. She’s the same impassive child from before, as she is safely deposited in Zhongli’s arms.
With a tacit nod, Zhongli casts one final look at Baizhu, and turns around.
Lumine and Aether follow Zhongli as he walks out of the room.
Xiao stands in the corner. As Baizhu finally attains his eternal rest, the space above his heart glimmers for a fraction of a second, and the most beautiful morpho butterfly ever seen flickers into existence. It is a rich emerald green, and it flutters unseen to the people, but clear as day to Xiao.
“A soul as beautiful as the man himself.” Xiao muses with a heavy heart. He stands still, with the little emerald butterfly in his hand, choking back hot tears as he inspects the scene.
The butterfly flits weakly, as if is still looking for something.
And Xiao allows himself to tarry just a little more.
Death does not wait for anybody.
But today, he had waited for hours on end.
Surely he can wait a few more minutes.
Before they leave the room, Qiqi taps Zhongli on his shoulder. He duly stops, turning his head to face her. The little child shimmies downwards and lands safely on the floor.
She walks to the bed one last time, and fishes for something in her pocket.
Pulling out her fist, Qiqi gently deposits a little pink candy on Baizhu’s body, right above the heart.
Qiqi looks at the sleeping man. And then she speaks to him for the last time.
The name that Baizhu had tried to teach her so painstakingly, she has finally managed to remember it after six long years. And when it rolls off her tongue, Qiqi cries.
“Thank you…Papa.” She brushes her fingers against his slender, stone cold ones, and turns around, returning to Zhongli and Lumine’s side.
And she finally shuts the door behind her, letting the delicate and frail man finally sleep a sleep without dreams, without any awakening.
Xiao and Albedo are the only people left in the room, though the young Doctor Gullsson does not know it.
The grim reaper senses a pulse of energy in his palm. He looks down, and to his surprise, the emerald butterfly in Xiao’s hand shines brightly like a gemstone.
His soul is finally at ease.
He is remembered by his foster daughter. He is remembered by his beloved friends. He is remembered by a great many people.
And are memories not a form of immortality too?
In short, Baizhu departed in peace.
Xiao smiles. “Let us finally depart, Baizhu.”
The emerald butterfly flickers in agreement.
And the black and teal smoke whisks the two away from the mortal plane.
Closure
Room number 42 has been shut close.
Only Albedo and Alhaitham stand in the room, facing the windows. They watch the raven-haired man and the blonde twins walking away, the lavender haired child tottering with her hands securely held by the adults.
“Don’t you have another patient to attend, Alhaitham?” Albedo does not tear his eyes away from the cedar trees in the garden.
“The same could be said for you, Albedo.” Alhaitham quietly stares at the newfound family, until they’re out of sight.
“The child is in good hands.” He remarks.
“Although I doubt that she will remember any of this when she grows up…given her condition. Perhaps that would be a blessing in disguise.”
“She will remember him… always. But yes, she’s in good hands.” Albedo turns to look at Baizhu.
“She’s very fortunate, my dear friend.” He whispers.
He looks like he is almost asleep.
A lone, white chrysanthemum, as white as the first snow of the season, lies right above the still, silent heart, beside the little strawberry flavored lozenge that Qiqi had left as a final present.
“You remembered his last wish to you, despite being so busy.” The blonde doctor hums, pulling the bedsheet over the delicate face, now sleeping forever.
“I…guess Kaveh’s sensibilities are rubbing onto me.” The silver haired doctor looks down at the chrysanthemum.
“I… I wonder, if I had known about it just a little earlier…”
“Could he have been saved?” Alhaitham looks to the skies.
“He had accepted his fate the moment he found out what was happening to him. He never wanted to be saved.” Albedo muses.
“Maybe.”
“But he was such a busy man… always bound by duty.” Alhaitham sighs.
“Are you sorry for him?” Albedo looks at Alhaitham.
“He would chastise me if I pitied him.” Alhaitham smiles his rare smile.
Both the doctors stand in silence, the body behind them a testimony of life’s unpredictability.
“I think I will take a week off.” Alhaitham announces, breaking the quiet ambience once more.
“Do that. You need it.” Albedo nods as Alhaitham prepares to leave.
“He wished for his body to be donated to the hospital,” Albedo says after a pause, making the silver-haired doctor stop in his tracks.
“Always so magnanimous, even in the afterlife.” Alhaitham scoffs and leaves the room.
Albedo lingers for just a little longer, and when the sun finally touches the horizon, room number 42 is locked away.
Life goes on, as it has always done.
It starts for many as it stops for many. But the world still goes around, as it should.
People come and go, but memories live on forever.
As the friends once again drift apart, perhaps to meet again in the near future, they all are bound by one single factor.
Baizhu’s memories.
He will live on in their hearts forever, forever as pristine as a chrysanthemum, white like snow.