Chapter Text
“Steel blue paints the sea.
Flourish of transient sun.
A drifter’s new home.”
Kazuha opened his eyes, lips turned in a small smile as he looked towards the boundless port that somehow grew higher than it already was as the Crux rapidly neared the docks. He had spent even greater time on this haiku than usual, and yet it still could not quite capture the blossoming anticipation in his heart as he approached his newest destination. The second he’s on land, he’ll pen a letter to the Traveler, describing his arrival in Sumeru and hopes to meet him for the rare occasion they were in the same nation. There was still time before the Alcor docked, opportune to make a start on his message…
“Kazuha!” The unmistakable voice of the captain rang from directly below the crow’s nest he was currently perched atop. “We’re getting ready to unload the cargo. Your poems will have to wait.”
“I’ll be there swiftly.” He replied, shifting off the railing. Ever perceptive, Beidou. A letter was close enough to a poem, at least. Like most happenings in life, his musings would have to be postponed, altered as fate walks its course…
Right. Poems for later.
“I’ll have no trouble at all. Really, I can handle myself in a simple port.” The Wanderer said, glancing over at the blue Aranara holding onto his shoulder. Those walking cabbages scared easily from ‘Nara’ (excluding Arabalika. He likely scared the people), a trait he’d become familiar with as Ararycan insisted on constantly checking on him.
“Ararycan knows. Ararycan just wants to keep in line with the Lord of Verdure’s wishes. But Ararycan does not want to be with many strange Nara. Aranara better, Wander Nara better. But if Wander Nara agrees to Ararycan leaving, both Lord of Verdure and Ararycan are happy! And Nara.” The blue Aranara piped up, still latched on his shoulder and unable to animate. Pity, their ridiculous waving and bouncing was quite entertaining.
“I know, I know. You won’t have to be with all the strange Nara.” He rolled his eyes. “Well, you’ve got my permission now. Go off.”
Ararycan released his hold and landed on the floor as the 'Nara' turned to face him.
“Alright, goodbye Wander Nara! Ararycan will be going to Vana, make sure nothing happens with bad dirty stuff.” With that, they disappeared in the blink of an eye, seemingly merging into the ground. The Wanderer's not in the mood to question Aranara logic.
Scoffing, he turned and activated his vision, zipping through the air before landing softly at the docks of Ormos, far enough not many people would startle at the allogene dropping from the sky. Kusanali had dispatched him to the south on account of increased Fatui activity and whatever eventful saga the Traveler would get himself into during his time in the area. He really could’ve just meandered around the forest in his free time, but she kept reiterating her concern for him to meet new people, landing him in the bustling, human filled port. Absurd.
Still… there was likely more to it.
The Wanderer leaned back, arms crossed, almost challenging the archon who had decided to pay a visit in his dreams.
“I really do think you shouldn’t keep to yourself all the time. It’ll get lonely soon.” She said, lightly swinging on her signature dendro seat. “But that’s not just it.”
“Oh? And enlighten me, Lesser Lord Kusanali, most blessed one of wisdom.”
She shook her head. “I can’t give you the answer to everything. That’s not how life should be. Besides, it’s just a thought. But I suspect you’ll find something significant there.”
“Really? Not a single clue or whatever?”
“You’ll know when you find it. I’m truly sorry I can’t tell you, but I want it to play out naturally. Not with my interference. I am just a lamp guiding your direction, but I can’t carve the path for you.”
He sighed. “You and your analogies again. But fine, I’ll go to sate my curiosity.”
Clearly, something had caught the attention of the Dendro archon enough for her to assign her right hand to the area. He just hoped he’d find it soon, there were much better things he could do than dealing with the irritating clamor of the shopkeepers.
The noise grew as he walked closer to the stalls, merchants attempting to shout over each other and the endless rumble of cranes and hurrying citizens. The pungent aroma of spices filled the air, veiling the faint hint of commodities like minerals and flora. A warm sea breeze blew from the ports, ever so slightly swaying the many bushes and leaved trees dotting Ormos. It was much like Treasure’s Street, the Wanderer noted, save the scents of the ocean and freer spirit bolstered by the wind. And he did not hate that place; it was better than the Akademiya, at least. He could get used to the harbor’s hustle and atmosphere.
The Wanderer raised his head at a ship, or rather ships, anchored at the longest dock Port Ormos had to offer. An immense yet hasty unloading process was occurring, crewmembers forming an assembly line of sorts as they moved copious amounts of crates and other cargo onto the wharf. Boats were far from rare here, but the flagship caught his attention. Not only was it a particularly immense barge, but it also possessed an iconic dragon figurehead. Additionally, the strikingly red sails were emblazoned with Liyue styled, gold emblems that identified it as the Alcor, head of the renowned Crux Fleet. And sure enough, the perhaps even more legendary Captain Beidou stood directing the unloading process.
Usually, he would not care to stop for such a menial thing. Though acclaimed Beidou and her armada was, the puppet wasn’t particularly intrigued by ordinary humans’ idols. She may as well just be a rather capable captain and nothing more. But just before he turned to move past the scene, his eye caught a young man who stood out amidst his fellow crewmates. He took part in the operation with an ethereal, small smile on his face. A face that, a year prior, was plastered all over Inazuma, calling for his arrest.
But most of all, who carried a singular red streak in his otherwise snow-white hair.
“Okay, just one more person?” The blonde who seemed to carry the stars with him spoke.
“Your questions are never ending. But fine, go on.” The other replied, turning away from where he was directing his attention to Paimon before.
“There’s this person we met in Inazuma. And he sort of shows up a lot, we’re friends.” He said, as if he wasn’t friends with every breathing being on the face of Teyvat. Ridiculous. “But uh. His name’s Kazuha. Kaedehara Kazuha.”
The puppet’s eyebrows shot up momentarily before setting back down, lowering into a thoughtful state that almost bordered on a glare (but perhaps that was just his resting expression). “The descendant of the Kaedehara clan. Then… isn’t he…”
Aether looked off into the distance, awkwardly clasping his hands, clearly regretting bringing up Niwa’s kin.
“He has an Anemo vision.” He said, a feeble attempt to shift the topic ever so slightly. “And he was a hot topic in Inazuma for a while after blocking the Musou no Hitotachi.”
“…Really?” A pause. “Hehe..”
The Traveler glanced up at the other’s laughter. His eyes had some spark to them that hadn’t been present before, hand raised to his mouth in his usual thinking position but slack, signaling he had just lifted his head from the pose. The Wanderer looked pleased, almost… impressed.
How interesting. Kaedehara Kazuha was aboard the Crux and in Sumeru, right where he had been left too. Was this what Nahida meant? How usual of the Dendro archon. The opportunity had been presented by fate, laid out for him. Who was he not to take it, and cut out the middleman to disillusion the Raiden Gokaden’s descendants?
And if Niwa’s descendant drew his blade… Well. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it. He had no intention of diverting judgement anyways.
Tipping his hat down, he discreetly made his way to the tall figure commanding the crew.
“Captain Beidou, is it?” The Wanderer spoke, voice filled with passive yet clear conceit.
The subject of his attention turned, eyeing the newcomer with curiosity. He turned his head to the organic assembly line (he was not looking up to meet Beidou’s eyes), smirk plastered on his face. “Now just so you know, I’m in no need of Mora, so don’t be hung up on that.”
“The famed Crux looks quite busy. Need a hand?”
Kazuha pulled another shipment from the Alcor’s storage. It was tiring work, though not new. There was significantly more cargo than usual, likely due to the Lantern Rite’s ever nearing arrival and the rare chance to trade with Sumeru. Thankfully, Beidou’s men were nothing if not efficient, and the boxes dwindled by the minute. He worked as dutifully as any other member, for he could not begin to describe what he owed the Crux, but he’d be lying if he said that he wouldn’t much rather be leisurely strolling through Port Ormos, a specialty drink of Sumeru in his hand.
Liushi, whom he got along quite well with on account of favoring the crow’s nest as a vantage point, called for him. “Hey Kazuha, once you get the next load out, come over before going back in.”
“Understood. Do not fret, I’m nearly finished with this one.” He called out, clearly yet calmly. He hoisted the crate into his arms before carrying it over to Suling, who made much longer trips than him. The art of the sword was his forte, not pure physical strength.
As directed, instead of turning back to the stash of goods, the samurai made his way to Liushi, standing with a rather sullen newcomer whose expression starkly contrasted his elegant attire of an ascetic dyed in shades of blue and deep, indigo eyes. It was the sort of face that begged to have lines upon lines of prose written for it if not for the apparent irritation.
“Captain Beidou said this guy.” Liushi spoke, slapping a hand on the mentioned person’s shoulder, who moved away with no effort to hide his distaste. “Offered to help out. He’ll be up here taking crates out with you since we don’t want to disrupt the rest.”
Kazuha lifted a hand in greeting, smiling lightly. “My name’s Kaedehara Kazuha, a vagrant on the Crux. What do you go by?”
“Wanderer.” The other- Wanderer, he now knew- replied shortly.
“Alright, well, I’ve already been away from my post for long enough. I better be going.” Liushi turned and hurried away. “Good luck, Kazuha!”
“To you as well.” He called back, before turning to the Wanderer.
“You carry the scent of my homeland but have a Sumeru vision.” He said, “Am I right to think you hail from there, and have lived here a while?”
“I’m from Inazuma, yes. I’ve been in Sumeru for only a year, though I really have no plans to leave.” The other replied. “But seriously? Scent?”
“My apologies, that was a rather abrupt time to give you my observation.” Kazuha said, huffing a small laugh. “I’m simply attuned to nature, and it’s what I noticed first. I perhaps got ahead of myself, meeting another like me in Sumeru. You call yourself Wanderer, yes? Then we are one of the same.”
Speaking of nature, now that he was closer to the Wanderer, Kazuha picked up a more complicated hint in the wind. He recognized some sort of apprehension… perhaps even sadness? But there were doubtlessly more layers, ones only words and not hints upon the wind could pen. Thinking again, perhaps not even prose was enough. Though the newcomer had no filter on his annoyance, he hid the rest of his thoughts quite well.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard of you. Hard not to when everyone’s gossiping about the Kaedehara who ‘blocked the almighty Musou no Hitotachi” The Wanderer micked.
The samurai scratched the back of his head. Inazuma should really find something else to talk about. “It’s not as grand as they make it sound. I had a lot of help, really…”
“I don’t put stock in such chatter anyways.” The indigo-haired replied. “Don’t we have a job to do? Stop standing around.”
“Oh, right, of course.” Kazuha said, snapping up. “Here, let me show you the storage…”
The Wanderer was, well, how should Kazuha put it? He was sharp tongued, dismissive, and didn’t hold fondness in his eyes. But he was not entirely unkind. Kazuha didn’t like people who lacked care for anyone or seemed to have no aspirations and simply dwelled in their irritation. But this drifter’s aura held too many indescribable emotions to count, more than the average person. It was intriguing.
“So, why are you in Sumeru anyways?” Kazuha inquired to the newcomer.
“It… it’s a very long story.” His expression, previously deep in thought, went back to that light annoyance. “Now stop asking questions. Do you really interrogate everyone you meet? Doesn’t the wind and nature do that for you?”
The samurai chuckled. “I don’t mean to be nosy. I was simply making conversation.”
“Just to occupy natural silence? Ridiculous.”
“Is it so odd to want to get to know someone better? An uneasy silence would be stifling.”
“I’d find it better than incessant chatter.”
The white-haired smiled, amused. “Then it seems we come to an impasse. That’s alright.” He set his crate down, shortly after Wanderer had dropped his own, who worked faster than him. He seemed to not strain to lift them at all, despite his slender appearance.
Kazuha straightened up, tucking back his red hair streak that had fallen over his bangs from the sweat. He turned to the Wanderer. “Well then-“
He stopped upon seeing the other, whose eyes were wide with shock, staring like he’d seen a ghost.
“Wanderer?” Kazuha inched closer, concerned. “Are you alright?”
No response.
“Can you hear me?” He lifted a hand, reaching to tap the other out of it if he had to.
The Wanderer suddenly jolted out of his trance, expression hardening. Nobody would’ve thought anything had even happened with how quickly he snapped back.
“Are you alright?” The white-haired repeated.
“It’s nothing. Don’t think about it.”
“Are you sure? You seemed quite-“
“It’s nothing.” He said harshly, turning away. “Don’t lose your head. The day isn’t over.”
Kazuha followed after moments of deliberation; expression still set in worry.
The Wanderer stayed back, Kaedehara close by, as the work wrapped up and the crewmates dispersed. The sea of people better clear out soon, he’s spent enough time on this ship as it is.
But before he left…
Inhaling deeply, he turned to face Kazuha. He was unsure of what exactly to say. Preferably, he could tell him bluntly, quickly, but that’d not have any evidence to back it up. The other option was to go into a deep explanation of Irminsul and the past, something he’d rather not spill on the Crux and would require him to choose some better language.
“Kaedehara.”
“Hm?” The subject of his thoughts raised his head.
“I…” The Wanderer opened his mouth, but only one word came out. A lump rose in his throat, and standing there, mouth hanging open idiotically, the meeting he had yearned for since that day in Irminsul, the words he had though up time and time again, suddenly became much too clouded.
Kazuha stood mere feet from him, waiting expectantly yet patiently. That small smile, unworried eyes. He couldn’t stand it. But yet he was not prepared to have it twist into anger if he spilt the truth. Niwa’s descendant looked much too similar to him. Red streak, near identical hairstyle, a kindness yet firm will that had embraced him back then and trapped him now, it was all in the image of his close friend. The close friend he’d disgraced.
And now, with an opportunity to repair even just a small percentage of his mistake on a silver platter, perhaps the only blessing fate had bestowed him, he was too much of a knave to take it.
Worthless dross.
Trapped in his thoughts for too long, the puppet pulled himself back to reality to see that the deck had already nearly emptied. He bit his lip. Kaedehara must’ve been waiting for a bit, but he stood patiently. Did this guy ever get frustrated?
“Never mind.” He said, tipping his hat down. “I’ve got to go.”
“That’s alright. May we meet again.” He heard the samurai say, but he had already turned his back to him.
The Wanderer hurried away, not bothering to reply. He sped past the small clusters of people and off the ship with no intention of slowing down. But then as he was running on the dock, nearly out of sight of the Crux and escape so close, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. Craning his neck, he saw the vagrant still on deck.
“Kaedehara!” He called.
Kazuha turned, slightly surprised. The puppet took a needless breath.
“Look for the Traveler.” He swallowed. “And ask him about me.”
The Wanderer turned and walked away, aggressively pulling down his hat. Despicable as he was, he didn’t look to see if his words had been caught.