Archive of Our Own

“Admit it: we’re lost.”

Lumine whirls around, her dress a blur of white against the dusted sands. Paimon’s eyes hurt from trying to follow the motion. “No, we’re not,” Lumine snaps, her cheeks ruddy from the blaring heat.

Wanderer hums. “Sure we’re not,” he says.

“Well, if you’d just shut up and let me figure out how to use the map, maybe we’ll have a chance of getting out of this place.”

“It’s all desert out here, Traveller.”

And as much as Paimon would hate to admit it, he’s right. They haven’t seen rock or stone for miles and miles of sand, let alone the person they’re looking for. Squinting one’s eyes into the horizon only brings orange dust, distant sandstorms they’ve been lucky to avoid. But she knows how strange Lumine’s temper is when it comes to Wanderer, so for once in her life, Paimon keeps her mouth shut. Eyes the shade on his face with no small amount of envy. His stupid hat, she thinks sourly.

“There’s—” Lumine flounders. “—stuff! Lots of stuff! I just need to find a landmark, then we’ll be back on track. A ruin, an obelisk, something.”

Wanderer scoffs, crossing his arms. “Suit yourself,” he says. “It’ll give me the pleasure of seeing you collapse from heat exhaustion.”

Lumine ignores him in favour of turning to Paimon, lips pressed flat in displeasure. “Paimon,” she says. “Could you fly up and look at our surroundings? Maybe you can find something to guide us.”

Paimon stares up at the sky. The sun glares back, and Paimon winces. She says, “Okay, Lumine. Paimon will try, for you.”

Lumine softens. “Thanks, Paimon. Once we get out of here, I’ll treat you to something good.”

“Paimon will hold you to that!” she exclaims, and gains an encouraging smile from Lumine for her troubles. A press of her hand against Lumine’s hair, and then Paimon’s off, her cape flapping behind her as she darts off toward the sky. Paimon peeks downward, but it’s sand. It’s all sand. And two rippling shadows cast over the dune she’d left behind, Wanderer’s hat looking like a bloomed lotus in the desert sea.

Eventually, the strain of gravity is too much. There’s only so high that she can go. Floating is hard work, especially for how small she is. Paimon whimpers, and then floats down, letting the heated wind support her.

Lumine sighs, already seeing the look on Paimon’s face. Nonetheless, she asks, “Anything, Paimon?”

“Sand,” Paimon says miserably. “Just sand, Lumine.”

“Can you…” Lumine squints as she stares up, and her hands ball into fists as though one second away from throwing a punch at the lazy blue sky. “...fly any higher?”

Paimon shakes her head and plays with her fingers. She hates disappointing Lumine. Lumine already asks for so little, and Paimon wishes so dearly she could help Lumine the way that Lumine needs her. “Paimon already flew as high as she could,” she says sadly. “Gravity’s not very fun to fight against.”

“You’re quite useless, aren’t you,” Wanderer remarks, and Archons above, Abyss below, Paimon hates him so, so much.

“Shut up, you stupid Hat Guy!” Paimon huffs. “Besides, Paimon doesn’t see you being useful either. All you do is just stand there and bother us! Why don’t you fly up then?”

She shouts so hard that her vision blurs. The heatwave strikes a heavy hand across her temple, making her dizzy with exertion. But Wanderer only shrugs, the smirk on his face making Paimon even more incensed. “That’s because your companion here—” Wanderer jabs a thumb at Lumine, who folds her arms and grunts. “—hasn’t deemed herself desperate enough to ask for it.”

“As if you’d actually help if we asked,” Paimon mutters.

“If you haven’t tried, how would you know?” Wanderer says. He glances at Lumine, and Paimon swears on all the snacks she’s hidden in the teapot that his eyes are glittering with something awful like glee. “Well, how about it, Traveller? Need my help?”

Lumine pinches her nose. “Seriously?”

“I’m waiting,” he says.

Around them, the desert wind murmurs, a sheet of sand blown and scattered like powder icing being sneezed off a doughnut. “Could you,” she grinds out, “take a look for us?”

“You forgot a word there, Traveller. Politeness will get you far. I thought you’d know better.”

“If that’s the case, you should have politely asked for the gnosis,” Lumine mutters. “Maybe then you would have had better success.” Paimon might not remember much, but she definitely knows what Lumine is talking about.

Paimon’s gaze flickers to Wanderer, and she’s one second away from flying behind Lumine as cover—but Wanderer remains unruffled. Only smiles, all teeth. “Still waiting,” he says mildly.

Paimon can name the exact moment Lumine gives in, because her entire body shrinks in on itself, like a desiccated lotus worn down by the unrelenting desert heat. “Please.”

Wanderer smiles even wider. “Wasn’t that hard, was it now, Traveller?” And what Paimon wouldn’t give to be able to slam her fist into his face at least one time! All her snacks, all her Mora, if only to punch the smug bastard until his stupid face goes gooey and soft like pounded mochi.

“Enough of your fun,” Lumine scolds, placing her hands on her hips. “I’d like to get out of here already. There’s enough sand in my mouth to last decades.”

“Sure,” Wanderer says. He raises his hand, about to float off (Paimon likes to think that she doesn’t look as ridiculous as he does)—and suddenly lunges for Lumine.

“Watch it!” Paimon shrieks as she spins, an unfortunate by-product of being in his way. 

“Hey!” Lumine yelps. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Paimon puts a hand to her temple, trying to recover from the dizziness. That deplorable man, Paimon vows, will get what’s coming to him one day.

“Better to have an up close and personal view,” Paimon hears him say above the sound of the whipping wind. She squints up, and Wanderer has Lumine right in his clutches, carrying her in his arms.

Wanderer is a real weirdo, Paimon thinks. She may not have the same memories of him as Lumine, but the way he acts—she feels like she’s been tired of him for a hundred years. She doesn’t know how Lumine has the energy to keep up with him, because she sure can’t. Her, Paimon! The one who’s supposed to be the chattiest and most annoying, and somehow, she still can’t stack up against him.

The thought annoys her, and she flares her nose, more and more annoyed the longer his antics go on.

Just as Paimon yells, “Give her back, Wanderer!” Lumine shouts, “You better not drop me!”

Wanderer immediately lets go of Lumine, a hurricane of fabrics plummeting to the ground.

And Paimon thinks Lumine is equally weird too, because she can’t tell if the scream Lumine let out was from fear or exhilaration. Maybe both, because instead of opening her glider, Lumine falls and falls and falls, a white stone in the distance. Paimon gasps and takes off, and she’s too small to help, but she’s gotta do something—

That is, until Wanderer swoops down to catch Lumine again. They drop so close to the ground that the sand dips from the cushion of air that Wanderer’s created.

“You didn’t open your glider,” Wanderer accuses. “Finally lost your mind?”

“I didn’t need to, right?” Lumine says breathlessly, clinging onto his neck so tight she looks about to choke him. And then she brushes her hand against his forehead, sweeping aside the fringes of his hair that have gone wild with his sudden dive, and laughs. “I had you to catch me.”

“So you did lose your mind. Better get that checked out by Lord Kusanali, Traveller,” Wanderer remarks dryly, but Lumine only laughs again.

Paimon scrunches up her nose. Something about the whole situation pissed her off so much, but she can’t quite put a finger on it.

In any case, Wanderer and Lumine are flying up again, higher and higher. So high that a foreboding feeling begins to curl in Paimon’s chest. For some reason, she’s afraid. Paimon shakes her fist and shouts the loudest she can, so loud it feels like her own eardrums are going to burst, “Enough is enough! Come down already! Lumine!”

“In a second!” Lumine calls back. “We have to see where we are first, remember?”

Paimon sighs. She drifts off, aimlessly drawing shapes in the sand. Lumine’s laughter rings from above, accompanied by Wanderer’s indistinct murmurs. Paimon doesn’t know if she wants to hear, but at least Lumine is happy. It’s been a long time since Paimon has seen her so carefree. Not since Inazuma.

Wanderer wasn’t that much of a good-for-nothing, Paimon decides. Even though the more Lumine laughs, the more Paimon wants to bite his hand.

: : :

Finding their way out of the desert had taken another two days. Another two days of miserably bearing the desert heat and cold. How the place could get so hot, then so cold, Paimon doesn’t know. She’s just glad they’re out. They make it back to Sumeru City at dusk, weary and sand-coated and in desperate need of a good soak. Paimon and Lumine at least; Paimon’s not sure whether Wanderer ever bathes (does he even sweat?) though she sure as heck doesn’t want to know.

“We can report to Katheryne later,” Lumine muses, dragging her teeth over her bottom lip as she unlocks the front door to their house. It’s a quaint little place, situated in the peaceful outskirts of the city. They’d bought it for the occasional use; Dori had helped them purchase it, boasting about this view and that street. Paimon has never been so glad that Lumine did.  The teapot is good, but it just doesn’t beat rest in the real world. She jerkily floats inside, too weary to fly straight.

“Paimon’s gonna take the longest bath, ever,” she groans, brushing at her sleeves. It still feels like there’s sand inside her clothes, gritty grains here and there and everywhere. Paimon bets if she tilts her head, sand would come pouring out her ear.

Lumine hums. “You and me both,” she agrees as she lights the oil lamp with a match. The flame flickers gently in the darkness, casting haggard shadows over mosaic windows.

“You’re welcome to come in, you know,” Lumine says. Paimon startles—oh, right. Wanderer was still with them. He looks like a ghost in the lamplight, pale and out of place. To tell the truth, Paimon had half expected him to leave them as soon as they reached the city. It was what he usually did, anyway. Lumine continues, “I’m sure here’s better off than whatever haunt you go to during the night.”

Wanderer crosses his arm and scoffs, leaning against the doorway. “Your house is small,” he says.

“Hey,” Lumine warns. “Don’t knock it just because it’s small. It’s extremely cozy, I’ll have you know.”

He snorts. “If you say so.” But still, he doesn’t leave, somehow content to just stay at the doorway and make his mean comments as Lumine tidies the place.

Paimon wishes Lumine would slam the door in his face already. She certainly doesn’t have the energy to do so, already lazily sprawled over the bed.

“Don’t fall asleep yet.” Lumine nudges her prone body. “We have to take a bath—you’re getting sand everywhere.”

“Paimon doesn’t think she can move anymore.”

“You’ve been floating this whole entire time,” Wanderer says. “What muscles would you even be using to be so tired?”

“Shut up,” Paimon groans, but there’s no heart in the words. She thinks she’s said the phrase a hundred times to him since their trip to the desert. She holds out her hands to Lumine from the bed instead, pleading with her eyes. “Can you carry me to the tub, Lumine? Pleaseeeee?”

“Sure,” Lumine says indulgently, picking Paimon up in her arms and patting her back as she hugs Paimon to her chest. “Just don’t drown in the bathtub, okay? Once was enough.”

“Figured you’d be stupid enough to let that happen to you,” Paimon dimly hears Wanderer say. She scowls.

“Get out of here already,” Paimon says, waving a fist from Lumine’s shoulder. “We have to go take a bath now. She doesn’t have time for you anymore, Wanderer.”

“Sure,” he scoffs. “I can see when I’m of no use to someone anymore.”

But just as he reaches for the doorknob, Lumine says, “Wanderer.”

“…What?”

“If you’re leaving, I won’t stop you. But just know… You’re always welcome here,” Lumine says softly. There’s an underlying pulse there, a message Paimon can’t track. “Thanks for the help, and good night.”

A stilted pause. Paimon idly slides her gaze to the door, only barely able to make him out when he’s covered in flickering shadows. His eyes are bright violet, sparkly like Electro polished over a blade. Dangerous. But Lumine is unfazed, her body relaxed as she holds Paimon, so Paimon isn’t too worried either.

“You won’t say it back?” Lumine asks, amusement woven through the question, her voice light and airy.

In contrast, Wanderer tightens his grip on the golden knob, so heavy that Paimon imagines the brass dents. “Good riddance,” Wanderer snaps, and then slams the door shut.

“Good night is wasted on him. Shoulda told him to close the door gently instead,” Paimon yawns.

“If I did, he’d definitely slam the door closed,” Lumine remarks.

And well, Paimon can’t exactly argue with that logic. “Sounds like Wanderer, all right.”

: : :

The waters are warm when Paimon sinks into it, like being embraced by overwhelming sunshine. But the good kind, the soothing kind, not the dry, scorching heat of desert sand. She kicks her feet just to watch the surface ripple.

“Feels good?” Lumine asks as she glances over, her arms folded and resting on the edge. Her hair is wrapped in a bun on top of her head, held together by a strip of white ribbons that Paimon had insisted on. 

The bun was a little lopsided. But Lumine hadn’t complained. Had laughed instead, and patted Paimon’s head in thanks.

“The best,” Paimon says happily, sinking herself even lower into the waters with the memory. She beams at Lumine, who beams back. “Paimon’s so happy we’re done with this quest. Do you think we’ll get a lot of compensation?”

“We’d better. It was a long one,” Lumine says. “Can’t believe it took us all the way to the far edge of the desert.” 

“Why do ruins always have to be in the middle of nowhere,” Paimon grumbles, a handful of water streaking through her hand and landing on her skin like a staggered waterfall. “Paimon’s sick of it.”

“That’s why they’re valuable. They haven’t been reached by other adventurers yet. It is a real hassle though, getting there.”

“Hard to make our way through them, too. Why are there traps everywhere? Every few meters it’s, bam! A net of spikes here, a ruin machine there. Paimon wishes she can give these builders a good scolding.”

“They’re all dead, Paimon.”

“Still!”

“It’s been easier with Wanderer, at least,” Lumine says lightly. 

Sure, it had been miles easier with Wanderer’s flying. He can vault over the highest barriers, can defeat most of the monsters by himself with his stupid wind, can help Lumine where Paimon can’t. But.

“Don’t remind me of him,” Paimon grouses. “Just thinking about him gives Paimon a headache.”

Lumine chuckles. “You don’t like him?”

“No!” 

“Why not?”

“He’s—” Paimon grapples for the right words to describe her anger. “—dumb-looking! And he always says the most irritating things!”

“Hm.” Lumine lays her head on her arms, her eyes curved into gentle crescents as she smiles again. She gazes at the steam, as though watching the scene unfold again, the steam from the waters coating her in quiet reminiscence. 

“You don’t think he’s annoying, Lumine?” Paimon asks as she tugs her hair roughly, squeezing the water out of the white strands with a furious wring of her wrists. 

“Sometimes.”

“See? You too!” 

“But I also think he can be pleasant—in his own little ways.” 

“In what way?!” Paimon slaps the top of the water, sending water splattering everywhere. “He’s just like the sand: hard, coarse, and, and, and—” she wracks her brain “—absolutely everywhere you don’t want it! An absolute pain!” 

“He only retaliates because you always start it,” Lumine says, laughing at the way Paimon puffs up her cheeks. “Which is fine,” she stresses. “He needs a bit of scolding every now and then. But don’t give him an opportunity to get under your skin, if that’s the case.”

“Hmph!” Paimon jerks her chin up, refusing to look Lumine in the eye. Doesn’t relent, not even when Lumine starts washing her hair for her. Though the sensation of her nails against Paimon’s scalp is very, very nice. So nice that Paimon can feel her eyes droop, the weariness flooding back, and oh, she just wants to close her eyes a little. 

“Come on. Don’t be mad,” Lumine cajoles. “I won’t invite him for our next outing then?”

The answer should have been an immediate ‘yes’. But then Paimon remembers how bright Lumine’s eyes had shone when she’d been watching Wanderer cook—he was a good cook, even if Paimon was reluctant to admit it—and Paimon says while yawning, “It’s okay. Paimon can bear with him. Paimon’s stronger than she looks.”

“I’m sure you are,” Lumine says. “And it isn’t for his cooking, hm?”

“Yours taste better.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Lumine’s voice turns hazy like the fog in the bathroom, words coming through only in bits and pieces. Paimon tries to hold on, she really does, but this whole week she’s been pushing herself so as to not burden Lumine. “You shouldn’t—asleep—bathtub—remember—happened last time?”

“No, ‘m fine. ‘M not gonna sleep, promise…” And then Paimon’s eyes close, black creeping over her vision like the Abyss rising to swallow the sky.

 : : :

She wakes in darkness, startled by some unknown dream. "Lumine?" she croaks, her throat so dry that she coughs a little. Paimon turns to her side, and a sudden swell of moontide washes over her face. She squints her eyes to adjust. Lumine is there, past the gauze of light, sleeping on her side with her chest rising softly.

Paimon sighs, scooting herself closer to Lumine. Lumine scrunches her eyebrows, but when Paimon pats her cheek and curls into her, she softens. Murmurs something nonsensical, shifting to readjust for Paimon's body.

But even with the comfort of Lumine next to her, Paimon can't fall back asleep. After a while of staring at the window, the stained glass filtering light into green and yellow, she grunts. Paimon pushes herself up, away from the inviting warmth of Lumine's body, and floats away slowly.

She opens the front door. It creaks open, and a brush of soft night air greets her face. The nice thing about Sumeru City's weather was that it was fairly cool at night. She could do with a little less humidity though; it always made her hair frizzy.

"Couldn't sleep?" A wry voice comes from the canopy above her.

Paimon looks up at the tree. Of course it's this stupid guy again. "Yeah," she says, picking at the hem of her sleeve. Without the usual anger, she's not sure how to approach Wanderer.

Then again…

What the hell was he doing in the tree like this, right above their house?!

"Why are you even here, Wanderer?" Paimon yells, and receives a mouthful of wind for her trouble. The world turns topsy-turvy as Paimon spins from the Anemo blast. She complains, plucking out her hair out of her mouth, "Why'd you—!"

"Quiet," Wanderer says nonchalantly. He looks up at the moon, not even sparing Paimon a glance. "You're going to wake her up if you keep screeching that loud. And we don't want that now, do we?"

Her. Paimon doesn't even need to guess, even with him talking like some kind of second-rate villain. "Lumine won't wake up that easily," she grumbles, but lowers her voice.

Wanderer leans back and closes his eyes, as though going to sleep. Not that he'd ever dozed off while they'd been on the road together; not in front of Paimon, at least. "She always slept light when we were travelling together," Wanderer says.

Yeah, because you were there, Paimon wants to say. But she stays silent—she's not going to divulge too much, not to him. She approaches the tree that he's resting on, wondering how hard she'd have to smack the trunk to shake him out. "You still haven't told Paimon why you're here," she says, floating herself up. It takes a couple of tries, like jumping up and always falling short. 

Instead of speaking, Wanderer just waves his hand.

A sudden boost of wind propels her up as though she'd just slammed her body on a bouncy mushroom. Paimon remembers, just in time, to slap a hand over her mouth to muffle the unbidden shriek.

"Y-You!" Paimon cries indignantly as she clutches onto the bark, trying not to fall—oh. She can float. She almost forgot.

"What's with the attitude? You got up here in the end," Wanderer says, lazily peeking open an eye at her. "Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

Paimon splutters, a thousand words just itching to escape from her chest. Stupid, annoying, infuriating. Nothing good enough to truly capture the depth of his subpar character, so she gives up. Lumine isn't even here, anyway, so there was no point in wasting her energy on him. She seats herself on the branch opposite to Wanderer, looking out in the distance.

The forests of Sumeru greet her, green leaves shuffling from the night breeze. It almost looks like they’re waving. To be polite, Paimon waves back.

"What are you doing," Wanderer says.

"Waving hello."

"Is it you infecting the Traveller with your idiocy, or is it the other way around?" Wanderer muses.

"Hey!" Paimon crosses her arms and jumps into 'defend Lumine' mode. "Lumine isn't stupid!"

"So it's you then," he surmises.

"Yeah!—Wait—" Paimon shakes her head, the words he'd said swirling around her. She's getting too dizzy trying to keep up. "It's neither of us!" she says proudly.

"I’m sure," he says dryly.

"You—!" Paimon shakes her fist, but he only offers her a bland smile, as though daring her to follow through with whatever threat she's going to be making. Her fist drops and uncurls. "Anyway," she says lamely, gesturing to the house, at the window where she's almost sure she could see Lumine through. "Did you do this before…"

"Just tonight."

"Creepy," Paimon mutters.

"Keep in mind: I still haven't decided whether I should dropkick you onto the pavement yet," he says pleasantly. But despite his words, he doesn't sound actually bothered at all. It's just an empty threat.

It's strange. That he could actually be so mild-mannered and not… insane. Paimon wonders if this is what Lumine meant when she said he was tolerable.

"Have you been here the whole night, then?" she says uncomfortably. Paimon wonders if he heard what they'd said about him while in the bath.

"No," he says curtly. He glances at her as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Your little secrets are safe from me—not that they'd be worth much, I'm sure."

Paimon huffs. "At least I'm not the one stalking Lumine from a tree outside her window."

"I am not stalking—" For the first time, his calm expression falters. The shadows from his hat cut a soft fringe of darkness across the upper half of his face, hiding his eyes. Wanderer grunts. "Whatever. Think what you like. It's of little concern to me."

Paimon swings her legs. Finally, she'd won against him. Maybe not being able to sleep wasn't such a burden, if it means she gets to see him like this.

"Why are you here, then?" she asks.

"Why should I tell you?"

Oh, it's like pulling teeth, talking to him. Paimon is this close to ripping out her hair. "Fine!" she harrumphs. "Don't tell Paimon then."

Wanderer shrugs, not particularly affected by her ire. He just tilts his hat down, expression masked once again. Paimon looks up at Wanderer—the height disparity made even more extreme by him standing and her sitting—but he doesn't meet her eyes, too focused on whatever it is that only he could see.

He did this quite often, during the night. Back in the desert, when Paimon sometimes woke up from her slumber next to Lumine, she'd find Wanderer sitting next to the smothered campfire. Staring into the embers as though a divine revelation was resting within the ashes.

And other times, he'd been staring at Lumine. Glanced away as soon as he noticed Paimon awake. Paimon had whispered this to Lumine later, but Lumine only smiled. Did he now, she'd said. Sounds like he needs a better hobby.

All of which is to say, Paimon’s never seen Wanderer in any kind of slumber.

Her curiosity gets the best of her. "Do you even sleep?"

"The function is there."

"Paimon's never seen you sleep, though."

"Just because the function is there," Wanderer says scathingly, "doesn't mean it needs to be used."

Paimon has no idea why he's getting angry. She was just asking a question.

"Because, little thing," he says, and whoops, she’d said her thoughts out loud, "if every function should be used, that would imply I should return to stealing gnoses."

She thinks she’s getting it, but she’s too scared to say anything else. "Sleep is so nice though," Paimon says, changing the topic. Very smooth transition—good job, her. She mentally pats herself on the back. "Paimon loves sleeping."

"Next to the Traveller."

"Yep! Lumine is really good at snuggling."

"Is she now?" he says, his voice dipping into something uncomfortably low. And then Wanderer looks at her, a blank expression on his face.

Paimon tilts her head. He's being weird again. Another one of his 'mercurial' moods, as Lumine likes to put it. "Yeah? Paimon literally just said so."

"None of my concern," he mutters, flexing his hand. Like there's a particularly aggravating crick to his joints. His gaze drops, and it takes a while for Paimon to realize that he's looking at their house, at the window. Just as Paimon is about to open her mouth to ask him what's wrong, he clenches his fingers into a fist.

"Bye," Wanderer says suddenly. Before Paimon can even reply, without any warning, he steps off the branch. There is no sound of landing at all, only a sudden streak of wind that tells Paimon that he's gone.

Paimon peers over the ledge, but there's nothing at the bottom. Only the emerald shingles of a neatly tiled roof and glimmers of Padisarah petals that surround their house like a secret fairy ring. It was disconcerting, how quickly he'd vanished. As though he'd simply evaporated from her mind, like the morning dew greeted by afternoon sun.

"Weirdo," Paimon mutters.

And the worst part: she still didn't feel sleepy.

: : :

Puspa Café, as always, is busy. Even in the night, there are consortia of people sitting and chatting the night away. Quite a few students asleep at the tables too, papers scattered on their tables with scribbles that made Paimon's head hurt whenever she tried to decipher them—but then again, there are students everywhere in Sumeru City, asleep or not. Paimon herself had found Layla asleep in a dozen strange places, including a pond on the outskirts of the city. She’d sneezed continuously for a whole week after that.

So, already used to the night scenery of the cafe, Paimon drifts through the cafe without much of a thought. "Hot chocolate, please," Paimon says, already counting out Mora from the little coin pouch she has hanging from her belt. One, two, three, four. Mora coins, clattering as they land on the worn countertop. She knows exactly what a cup of hot chocolate costs here, even without Enteka telling her.

Paimon sighs, feeling bereft as soon as the weight leaves her palms. The acting manager of Puspa Café pockets them with an effortless sleight of hand, and Paimon mourns the absence. The scent of sweet chocolate makes her perk up soon enough, though, when Enteka gets started on her order. The resident house cat of Puspa Café hops on the counter, lured by the sound of pouring liquid. Probably thinking Paimon was here to have her fortunes read. Gata mewed softly, lowering her head as if disappointed by the lack of coffee grounds, and Paimon giggles before patting her head.

"I'll get Lumine to feed you some fowl next time, Gata," Paimon says, and Gata purrs, nudging her head into Paimon's palm. "Promise."

"The Traveller isn't with you, little guest?" Enteka asks as she slides the filled cup across the counter. Paimon peers at the brown liquid and takes a long whiff, the sugary steam already making her feel warm and languid. Hot chocolate was always good when she couldn't sleep.

Gata jumps off the counter as Paimon cradles the mug in her hand. It's a little hot, but nothing she can't handle. There was something odd though, an unknown prickle at the back of her neck. "Nope. Lumine's back home. Paimon had trouble falling asleep," she explains.

Enteka nods. It's happened often enough that she's no longer surprised; Lumine comes to the café too, when she's suffering from the occasional bouts of insomnia. "I hope the drink helps then."

"It already has," Paimon says cheerfully, brushing off her concern about the weird itch. She carefully balances the cup as she floats off, scanning the café for a place to settle herself. It's a little lonely without Lumine, truth be told. She'd been preparing herself for the silence, but to be faced with it… It’s another matter altogether. 

Paimon takes a careful sip of her drink, closing her eyes at how warmth splashes down her throat. Her entire body feels weightless, about to drift away like a dandelion seed. Paimon gets why so many students have fallen asleep here. She's about to doze off herself, which she definitely should not do, because then she'll sleep the night away and Lumine will be worried when she wakes up alone without Paimon and nope, Paimon is keeping her eyes awake, her mind open. Totally.

"Well, if it isn't the Traveller's companion!" someone says, startling Paimon from her reverie. She blearily opens her eyes, only to be greeted by a fleshy nose. It's a good enough nose, all noses considered, but to have it be the only thing in her direct line of sight is enough to startle her.

"What the—" Her chair tips back as Paimon shoves the nose away from her with a slap of her hand, kicking herself up into the air. "Paimon doesn't have anything valuable on her, pinky promise!"

"Oomph!" The owner of said nose rears back from the attack, clutching their face. Now that Paimon looks closer… He’s a student. An oddly familiar one.  Paimon swears she's seen this face around before. "No, it's not like that! I didn't mean any harm," he wheezes.

"Wah—Sorry!" Paimon says. Now she knows who this guy is. "Paimon was just so scared. Do… Do you need help with something, Sanad?"

Sanad recovers soon enough. "Come here, come here," he gestures. He sounds oddly… excited? For a student who normally looks downtrodden, the wide grin seems out of place.

"What is it?" Paimon asks warily, approaching inch by inch, feeling as though she were trying to get closer to a Rishboland tiger. 

"Oh, nothing much," he waves off—and was that a notepad he just whipped out? When was Sanad of all people excited about studying? "I have some questions to ask you about the Traveller—and the wanderer that's recently joined your little group."

"Hey!" A woman suddenly brushes Sanad aside, huffing. "No dealing dirty," she says.

"I'm not, I swear, sis!" Sanad says.

"Zohreh?" Paimon tucks her hands behind her back, leaning forward to squint at the bickering pair of siblings. The café is lit well enough, enough candles to make it seem like it's dusky evening instead of pitch-black night, but the turn of events is so confusing that Paimon's not sure if she's dreaming.

 "No insider information," Zohreh scolds, her voice taking on that usual bossy canter she puts on whenever she's dealing with her slacker brother. "You'll have to stay back and watch properly like the rest of us, Sanad!"

"Oh, come on! It's not insider information if the rest of us are around to hear too," Sanad says wisely, leaving Paimon even more confused about what they're talking about. He waves his hand impatiently, gesturing at some random corner. "Everyone else around here is curious about the current state of things too, you know? You already know what I have riding on this agreement—a lot!"

Paimon still has no clue what's happening, But with Sanad's words, Paimon can feel the barrage of curious eyes. She scans the room, and sure enough: people glancing at them, eyes shying away as soon as her eyes made direct contract. So that's what the itchy feeling had been. She shifts, not sure of how to handle this. Fly the hell out of there and cry for Lumine? Find a weapon and defend herself? The broom in the corner looked good, but it's definitely too big for her. She’d topple.

Zohreh sighs. "Don't worry, Paimon," she says. "My brother is just being irresponsible, like he always is."

"Sis!"

"Don't you 'sis' me! You're scaring her," she says, crossing her arms. Her glare is scarily effective, because Sanad only chuckles nervously and scratches the back of his head, properly cowed. "And it was agreed upon that we wouldn't pry, remember? We'll only observe and make our conjectures from there."

"What are you guys talking about?" Paimon says, throwing up her hand. She's fed up with being out of the loop. It's worse than being stuck between Nahida and Wanderer and Lumine when they decide to talk vaguely about some higher philosophical thingy that Paimon doesn't understand.

"Nothing to worry about," Zohreh says. She jabs Sanad in the ribs, and continues, "We'll just leave you alone, okay?" They shuffle away quickly, Zohreh herding her brother like a particularly aggressive dog with an unruly Sumpter beast.

"Wait, you still haven't told Paimon—Argh, forget it!" she says, pouting. She flies back down, taking a seat and returning to her hot chocolate. No one wants to tell her, so she's gonna just put it out of her mind. She chugs down the rest of her hot chocolate (though it's not so hot anymore), and wipes her mouth. Maybe it was time to head back home?

But then, just as she's floating for the exit, another unexpected disturbance. "Psst," Paimon hears. At least it's not someone shoving their nose in her face. Paimon turns around, trying to locate the source of the sound, but there's just too much ambient noise to properly pinpoint a location. "Here, little Paimon!"

"Dori!" Paimon says. She floats toward the waves of pink and purple, vibrancy toned down by the dim candlelight of the café. Thankfully, the isolated corner where Dori stands can block her from the rest of the Cafe and oddly curious eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I'm always here and there," Dori says mysteriously, as Paimon sits across from Dori. She peers at Paimon above her diamond sunglasses. "The better question is, what are you doing here, without the Traveller?"

"Paimon couldn't sleep," she says.

"Ah," Dori says, settling her fingers together. "I know the feeling. Do you want to know the best way to solve that issue, dear customer?"

"Ooh," Paimon says, just as Dori finishes, "For the small sum of a million mora, of course."

Paimon chokes. She frantically pats her chest. "What?!"

Dori giggles, adjusting her spectacles. The black film shines as it moves, reflecting Paimon's skeptical expression. "Just joking," she says, but Paimon has the sneaking suspicion she really wasn't. "There's the Mora Hypnosis method, and there's the more practical Mora Hourglass. Which do you think is more suitable, dear customer?"

"Paimon doesn't think she wants to be hypnotized…"

"Then Hourglass it is! It's simple, really: place an hourglass besides your bed, fill it to the brim with shiny Mora, and then listen to the soothing clinks. It'll conk you right out!"

Paimon squeezes her eyes shut and tries to imagine it. It does sound quite enticing. "Paimon likes Mora, but that's a little too much," she decides.

Dori shrugs. "Dori Sangemah Bay has many other tips, if that's the case. Would dear customer like to pay to hear more? Only one million mora!"

"I thought you said you were joking about that!"

"The first is the taster," Dori says wisely. "That's how every merchant operates."

"No thanks, then!"

"If that deal is not to your liking…" Dori's voice drops, and she leans forward. "...there's another proposition I have in mind, customer. One that could benefit you and I most kindly."

Interest piqued, Paimon whispers back, "What is it, Dori?"

"Not here," Dori says, pressing a finger to her lips. Beneath her sunglasses, her eyes are glittering like scurrying scarabs beneath a baking sun. Like she's found a treasure stash. "There's too many ears around. Meet me outside—but don't follow immediately. Let's space out our departure from this place. We've attracted enough attention as it is."

And then she hops off the chair, humming as she strides toward the entrance. A quiet swing of the door, and Dori's gone.

Paimon crosses her arms. First Wanderer, now Dori! What was it with people just up and leaving her like that?

: : :

"What do you think about the Traveller and that guy?" is the first thing Dori asks Paimon when they step outside. "The one who calls himself Wanderer. I've been trying to find out his true name outside of the moniker, but for some reason, he's as mysterious as he is unapproachable."

"That's the thing you wanted to ask me about?" Paimon reels back, a puff of irritation spreading across her sternum. "Wanderer, of all people?"

Dori peers at her from above her sunglasses. "You really have no idea, do you?"

"About what?" Paimon grumbles.

"You see, little Paimon. Everyone in Puspa Café has been speculating on one thing, lately," Dori says grandly.

"Come out with it already, Dori!"

"Wanderer and Traveller," Dori says, "don't you think they'd make a good pair?"

"...Pair? Paimon guesses they do pair pretty well when they fight…" Something about the way that he supports her from above, controlled scythes of wind paired with the graceful arc of her sword. If there's one thing that Paimon is grateful to him for, it's that he keeps Lumine safe.

"Not that. The more intimate kind," she says slyly. "You know. Lovers."

Paimon's brain finally catches up. And then proceeds to implode. "With Wanderer?" Paimon splutters. "Wanderer?!"

"You don't think it's possible?"

Paimon scrunches her face. She tries to imagine Lumine doing things with him that couples usually do. Holding hands. Kissing.

Now she really did need to bleach her eyes. She makes a disgusted sound in the back of her throat, a strange urge to punch something. Someone. Preferably Wanderer.

"People have been talking," Dori says, "wondering if there's something between them. Is there?"

"No!" she screeches. "Definitely not!"

"Oh, good," Dori says. "I haven't bet wrong, then."

"Bet?"

Dori lowers her voice and says, "There's been a wager going around on the status of their relationship."

Paimon slaps her forehead. "People don't have better things to do?!"

"I was thinking that nothing happened between them. Yet."

"Even you, Dori?" Paimon moans.

"Everyone's been noticing it," Dori says, a mischievous giggle as Paimon's expression sours. "He comes out of nowhere, and woosh! All of a sudden, he and the Traveller seem like bosom buddies."

"Bosom buddies," Paimon repeats darkly.

"Is there a reason you're being so defensive, Paimon?"

Paimon remembers tonight. How Wanderer had slammed the door closed, but had stayed in the tree next to their house. How Lumine had looked in the baths when she’d spoken about Wanderer, that misty expression she’d worn. 

"No! Paimon's just concerned for Lumine's reputation!" she says—not defensive at all. "What would people think if she gets together with that hooligan?"

Dori appraises her. "So you don't want the rumours to be true," she says.

"L-Lumine's free to do whatever she wants!" Paimon crosses her arms. "Paimon will support her, no matter what."

"Is that so," Dori says. "Then I have a little favour to ask you, little Paimon!"

And Paimon may be clueless sometimes, but even she's going to be suspicious of this. Since when did Dori need a favour from anyone?

"There's quite a sum of Mora riding on this, after all," Dori says, as though already anticipating Paimon's confusion. Her eyes sparkle like coins left out under the sun, bright and intrusive.

"You joined the wager?!" And then, Paimon sighs. Whatever she'd been about to yell out evaporated in her throat. She really shouldn't be surprised.

"Where the Mora flows, Dori follows," Dori says. "So, how about it? You won't come away empty-handed, I guarantee it!" She then thinks of it, before adding, "If we succeed, of course. I'm not going to be paying for failure, after all. But I have the fullest confidence that you won't fail, Paimon!"

"What are you thinking…" Paimon says warily.

"A partnership!" Dori says. "You help me win this wager, and I'll split the profits with you. We can even go fifty-fifty."

Even. Paimon pulls a face. "Uh… And how is Paimon supposed to help you?"

"Push them together, of course. You're always next to them; I'm sure you can think of something to have them become closer."

"...What were the conditions you bet on, Dori?"

"What do you think, Paimon?" Dori says mysteriously.

Paimon hesitates. "Paimon doesn't really want to participate, Dori."

"But what if I tell you that there's Mora involved? A huge sum of it at the end, for you and me."

Paimon looks at her warily. "How much?"

Dori smirks. She opens her mouth—and the number that Dori names is enough for Paimon to choke. "There's that many people interested in something so stupid?"

"People need something to preoccupy themselves with," Dori says simply. "So how about it? Want to earn some easy Mora, my little matchmaker?"

"Easy for you! Paimon has to do the hard work. And besides—isn't this cheating?" Paimon fusses.

"Only if we get caught," Dori says cheekily.

"Then, then," Paimon flounders, "can't we just, I don't know, tell Lumine and Wanderer and have them act it out?"

Dori raises an eyebrow. "Do you think they would agree to that?"

Point taken. If Paimon ever approached Wanderer with such a ridiculous request, he'd laugh her out of Sumeru City. Something so ridiculous… "It’s impossible," Paimon says. "They don’t… like each other in that way."

"Have you seen the way they act next to each other?"

"Good friends," Paimon insists.

"Sure. Whatever you think," Dori says, shrugging. "As long as they look like it, it’s good enough for me. You just need to convince everyone." And then she hums, eyes lighting up as she smacks a fist into her palm. "Sell the image—literally!"

"So what you're saying is… Paimon could just take a photo of them where they’re holding hands or something?" Paimon asks. Her head is spinning, pulled one way by her loyalty and another way by her imagination. She shouldn’t be doing this behind Lumine’s back. But all the things she could do with the Mora…

"Exactly!"

"That’s also pretty hard…"

"It’s okay!" Dori says. "Just think of all the food you'd be able to buy with that much Mora!"

"Paimon does enjoy buying food…"

"And you'd be able to buy the traveller anything she could ever want!"

It's this that breaks Paimon. Not that they were ever lacking Mora, but Paimon wants to do something for Lumine. Besides, she reasons to herself later when she's floating home, it's just a photo. She could stage it. Make it happen.

One photo. How hard can it be?

 : : :

As it turns out, extremely, extremely hard. 

It seemed easy at the time, her plan to take a photo of them doing something that would appease these people wasting their time away banking on the status of Lumine's relationship with Wanderer. Whatever that something happened to be.

But now that she's actually confronted with the enormity of the task, she's starting to think that the whole partnership with Dori was a very, very bad idea. 

For starters, Paimon still has no idea why people think that Wanderer and Lumine have something going on between them. No matter how much she squints her eyes, all she sees is Wanderer being annoying and Lumine taking it in stride. Nothing beyond to suggest that they're a second away from making out—and at that thought, Paimon has to reflexively swallow the sudden gag of her throat. 

"Are you feeling alright, Paimon?" Lumine asks. 

Paimon puts on her best smile. "Yep!" she chirps. "Paimon's just thinking about something."

This morning, Paimon had told Lumine, Wanderer was sitting on the tree outside our house while we were asleep, like a creep.

Habits are hard to break, Lumine said, that wry smile back on her lips.

Paimon didn’t get it. She still doesn’t.

And then, when Paimon and Lumine had decided to stroll the morning markets, Wanderer had wandered his way into their little group of two, wedging himself besides Lumine. Paimon hadn't even realized he'd been there until he spoke—the merchant here is a scam artist, he'd said casually to Lumine, who'd been about to buy a bolt of Sumerian fabric as a gift to Ayaka—and Paimon had startled so hard, she’d almost slammed into a passerby. In Wanderer's presence though, Paimon can’t stop thinking about the night before. The talk with Dori. In truth, not even the smell of nearby food carts is enough to distract Paimon. 

"What is it that you're so preoccupied by?" Lumine says. "It's not like you to be so quiet."

"Ask her first why she keeps staring at us," Wanderer says from beside Lumine, a lazy wave with his hand as though bored with everything in the world. "I didn't realize I was so intriguing to look at."

"Lumine," Paimon complains. "Tell Wanderer that Paimon wasn't looking at him at all! He's just air to Paimon."

Stuck between the both of them, Lumine smiles. "How about you"—she lays her left hand on Wanderer's shoulder, right hand on Paimon's—"talk directly to each other instead?"

"How about 'no'?" Wanderer says dryly. And then he lays his hand over Lumine's wristguard. His fingers wrap around her, slow, deliberate. A heartbeat, before he slides her hand off his shoulder. 

Paimon could have sworn that Lumine's steps stuttered. Strange, considering the fact that the road was paved without a bump in sight. "Is Lumine okay?" Paimon asks.

Lumine clears her throat. "Fine," she says, her voice oddly distant.

Wanderer laughs, unprompted.

Paimon doesn't know what's so humorous. "Don't laugh at Lumine," Paimon scolds. 

"The famous, celebrated hero of Sumeru, tripping over nothing?" Wanderer says. "What's not to laugh about?"

"Hmph!" Paimon crosses her arms and looks pointedly away from him. 

"Wanderer," Lumine says exasperatedly. "Let's just enjoy ourselves without the bickering, please?"

And to Paimon's surprise, Wanderer actually keeps his mouth shut. He gives a curt nod, already looking away from Paimon. Not even an eye roll!

"What did you do to him, Lumine?" Paimon whispers. She's only ever seen Wanderer so quiet around Nahida. "Can you teach Paimon how to get him to behave so obediently?"

Lumine's lips twitch. "He's not a dog, Paimon," she says.

"Paimon just thinks it'd be nice to learn the trick," Paimon mutters, and Lumine chuckles. 

What's actually funny, though, now that Dori had brought up the idea of Wanderer and romance, was how Wanderer actually reacted to real life instances of romantic love. Every time Wanderer sees people kissing, holding hands, or spouting some flowery words about "dewy eyes and cherub lips", Wanderer always rolls his eyes. It's stupid, he always grumbles, much to Lumine’s amusement. On occasion, he'd even secretly send a blast of wind just to watch them jump and separate—like now, as the two students holding hands walked past and received a nasty gale in turn.

Lumine laughs. "You're being ridiculous.”

"Then maybe they shouldn't show such a disgraceful act in public," he says haughtily. "Better to be studying instead of frolicking around."

And to think, people think him capable of liking Lumine that way. He could barely look at other people holding hands, of all things. Paimon honestly doesn't know where Dori's getting it from. 

"They were just holding hands, Wanderer," Lumine says in defense, but she's smiling. She bumps her shoulder against him, and he scowls. "Now you're starting to sound like a concerned parent! It's just young love, nothing to get so angry at."

"Sure," Wanderer mutters. "Young love, until one of them fails out of the Akademiya and has to live out the rest of their life herding Sumpter Beasts." 

"That's not a terrible way to live," Lumine says. "Sounds peaceful enough."

"Would you do it?" 

"Paimon would!" 

"No one asked you."

"You—!"

"Hey, how about some scented meat balls!" Lumine says hurriedly.

"Where?!" Paimon whips her head toward the food cart Lumine is pointing at, already salivating. 

"My treat," Lumine says, and Paimon immediately squeals before darting off. Wanderer only snorts as Lumine speeds up to follow, never changing his relaxed pace.

Whatever. His loss, Paimon thinks between mouthfuls of fried meat, already having forgotten her plans of orchestrating a compromising photo. The scented meat balls were just too good to pass up.

: : :

Her mission comes back to her a day later, while they're resting in the shade of a nondescript tree in Apam Woods. Not that every other tree in the area wasn't nondescript. "These Rukkhashava mushrooms sure are hard to find!" Paimon flops down next to Lumine, spreading her limbs out in a starfish position. "But at least they're delicious. Paimon can't wait to eat them in the Potato Boat."

"Me too," Lumine says. She's got the mushrooms laid out on a tarp, cleaning them with water from the stream next to them. "We collected so many. Jahangir will be happy with the haul."

"This is what you called me for? To pick mushrooms from a rainforest?" Wanderer leans against the tree. "I'm feeling a little swindled, Traveller."

"What would you prefer then?" Lumine says. "A battle against a false god?"

"Been there, done that," Wanderer says. His voice is monotone, as though bored with the topic. "Something like that holds no interest to me anymore."

"I know. That was the point," Lumine says, raising an eyebrow. She tosses a mushroom at him, and he catches it with ease. "Isn't it better to waste your days away collecting and cleaning mushrooms instead of plotting the downfall of a nation?"

"Tch." Wanderer stares down at the cluster of blue mushrooms in his hand, his face surly. It's as if the fungus had personally offended him by spitting on him or something. But then he kneels next to Lumine. Watches as she rinses off the mud and debris from the Rukkhashava mushrooms. Even helps her dry them with his little bursts of wind, tossing them into the basket Lumine had prepared.

Paimon weighs her chin on her elbow, wondering whether the scene was good enough for Dori. Don't husbands and wives do this stuff together? Doing laundry together, clearing up fishing nets, washing the dirt off of radishes. She's gone through the villages in Teyvat, seen enough of the sight to know.

Wanderer's mouth, however, is still running with stupid remarks, "Can't even dry mushrooms without my help, Traveller? A little pathetic."

"Thank goodness you're around to help then," Lumine says. "Otherwise my fragile, delicate body won't be able to handle the harsh labour."

Whatever. It'll have to do, Paimon thinks. She's holding herself back, even now, to not disturb them—it's honestly irritating her, looking at them being so buddy-buddy with each other. Maybe Wanderer had a point about it being disgraceful to 'frolick around' in public. Not that they were in public. The only observers to be found are the towering trees of the rainforest.

Yes, it'll have to do.

"Oh!" Paimon says loudly, pointing at a Kalpalata lotus in the distance. It sparkles against the writhing greenery that drapes over the cliffside. "Look, Lumine! I'm gonna go take a picture of that for Nahida."

She almost wants to pat herself on the back for how great her acting skills are. Completely natural. The excuse she came up with was foolproof too, since Nahida has always had a fondness for the lotus. It is a false lotus, in a completely different genus from true lotuses, she'd said, but it thrives, nonetheless, in the people's imagination as a lotus. I enjoy its mimicry.

Paimon didn't understand the importance of classifying it as a false lotus—a flower that looked like a lotus was a lotus—but she did think they were quite pretty. And they gave her a good point of distraction.

"Sure," Lumine says absentmindedly. "Make sure to stay safe though, okay? And don't go out of sight. There's still tigers in the area."

"Yep, yep." Paimon floats next to Lumine, chewing the inside of her cheek. And before she can give herself a chance to regret her words, she whispers quickly, "Paimon's getting tired of hearing Wanderer speak. Give him a kiss on the cheek or something. Maybe that'll finally shut him up."

"Huh?" Lumine's head whips up, finally startled out of her focus on the task at hand. Besides her, Wanderer also raises his head, frowning. "What are you talking about—"

Too late. Paimon flees the scene, almost rolling through the air with how she lunges away from the scene. Once she's flown far away enough, she dives into a bush and steadies her Kamera. It had been a little troublesome, procuring one that would fit for her small body, but Dori came through. And Lumine hadn't even asked too many questions, satisfied with the lackluster explanation Paimon had given about taking up a new hobby.

Through the viewfinder, she zooms in on them. The position she'd taken up means that she has a perfect shot of their faces. Fingers twitching in anticipation to take the shot, her imagination runs wild with the heavy sack of Mora that Dori had promised her. All the food she could ever want, a new sword for Lumine, maybe even something for Wanderer if she was feeling generous.

Paimon waits. And waits. And waits some more.

But all she sees is Lumine and Wanderer standing around. They're not even washing the mushrooms anymore. Lumine's brows are furrowed (this Kamera sure has a great zoom function, Paimon notes), and she's saying something to Wanderer, who sneers in response.

They're not doing anything exciting at all! Paimon huffs, narrowing her eyes. "Come on," she complains. Even her finger's getting tired from holding the shutter button.

It was frustrating. To the point where Paimon forgets that, oh, she wasn't supposed to root for them to actually like each other. She just wants a photo that looks like it.

Except right now, Paimon has nothing on her mind except the urge to just mash their faces together in a messy rendition of what a kiss was supposed to look like. That was a sure-fire way to get Dori what she wants, right?

: : :

They mill around the river, an awkward tension stuck between them. The mushrooms are left on the tarp, untended. She's not in the mood to wash them, right now. Not when she's so aware of the presence next to her. Lumine carefully smooths out her skirt, wondering what kind of trouble Paimon had meant to stir up with her parting words. 

Some part of her wishes Wanderer would say something. A quip maybe, some sarcastic insult flung her way so she could retort and clear up this ambiguous atmosphere. As it is right now, all she has is the stormy humidity of the rainforest, almost crackling with friction. She wouldn't be surprised if the clouds suddenly began hurling lightning. 

…If he won't say anything, she guesses that it's up to her. She points to the Rukkhashava mushrooms, their blue layers weaving into each other like a sea of clouds. "These have an old story about them, did you know?" Lumine says.

"They're mushrooms." Wanderer levels a flat stare at her. "Do I look like I care?"

No. Not many people do, Lumine thinks. She hadn't expected any different. Not many people remember how Rukkhashava mushrooms had been named for the wise goddess before Kusanali. The crystallization of a goddess's legacy, now transformed into tales about the giant towering tree from which every forest propagated. 

Greater Lord Rukkhadevata only exists in that hazy space Lumine calls her memories.

Not that it's worth much, nowadays. What's a memory worth, when there's no one around to share in the memory?

Zhongli would have a lot to say, Lumine thinks wistfully. If only Nahida could have preserved memories of Rukkhadevata, like she had with the Balladeer.

Upon seeing her expression—Lumine's not sure what she looks like, only that she's torn up by his words, strangely unsettled—Wanderer throws out, "If you're that frivolous with your words, Traveller, I suppose I have time to hear your banal stories."

At his capitulation, the initial reminiscence she'd had has crumbled away to an unknown grief. A lump in her throat, Lumine shakes her head. For a second, she's glad. That he's there to share in the truth of the world, however warped it was by the time he'd tried to erase himself. That there’s someone to keep her sane.

"It's fine. I've already forgotten…" She trails off, looking skyward for answers she knows she won't receive. "…what I'd been meaning to say."

He regards her, then. Opens his mouth, as though about to say, then seems to think better of it. "You know she's watching, don't you?" he finally lands on.

Lumine wonders what he'd been about to say. Whether they were words of comfort or mockery. With Wanderer, it's always hard to tell.

"Of course," Lumine says. She's not easy to catch off guard—doubly so if it's the companion that's been with her since Mondstadt. Of course she could feel Paimon's gaze from wherever it is that she's chosen to hide herself.

"Why are you humouring her?"

"Give her a break," Lumine says. She stares down at the mushrooms, and she really should be going back to washing them. Makes it easier to hand it over once they're at Port Ormos. Sighing, she crouches to continue the task that had been disrupted by Paimon's strange words. Give him a kiss or something. What was going on in Paimon's mind? "She's been so on edge lately… I just want to make her happy." 

Wanderer sits beside her. Slings one arm over his raised kneecap, as though casually watching a particularly entertaining show. Lumine doesn't get what's so fascinating about washing dirt from mushroom caps, but it's fine. "And you think us standing around will make her happy?" he says suddenly. Lumine carefully scrubs away at the residual stain on the blue folds, not minding the cold water chafing her skin. "Do you know what she even wants? What her true goal is?"

Lumine hums. "Do you?"

"Even if I did, I'm not sharing."

"Well, whatever the case, I just want her to succeed. And if it means us standing around for a while like idiots, waiting for her to finish whatever it is that she's doing, that's fine."

"Is that all I’m good for?" he grouses. "Making a point?"

"Come on," Lumine cajoles. She leans toward him and flashes him a smile, the best one she has in her arsenal. His eyes widen, like she’d just pushed him off a cliff. "You don't enjoy my company?"

His eyes narrow. "…Don't put words in my mouth, Traveller."

There's the return of that trademark arrogance. But she’s used to it, knows not to take offense. And besides:

"So you’re saying that you do enjoy my company?"

"You're infuriating," Wanderer says. "How you were ever able to gather enough brain cells to make it alive to Sumeru is beyond me."

The forest thrums with the quiet ambience of life, the chirp of birds and the drip of dew. Her legs are sore from kneeling and her hands are rough from the cold waters. There’s a scent, damp moss and sweet wood, that reminds her of simpler times, simpler worlds. And Lumine doesn’t know what possesses her to do it, only that she’s feeling sentimental, wistful, longing for memories of people who don’t exist anymore and what Paimon said before is starting to make more sense, so when he opens his mouth, presumably to insult her again—she presses a kiss to his cheek.

…Paimon’s conjecture was right. He does shut up. Quite quick.

But he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t push her away, either. His skin is paper dry, cool to the touch. Lumine blinks and leans back. Blades of grass sit between her fingers, disturbed from when she’d gripped the earth to lean forward. She cards her hand through her hair, sweeps the strands behind her ear, feeling a strange, heated itch at her neck.

Lumine plucks up the courage to look at his face, and their eyes meet. His expression is blank; she can’t read anything. It’s as though he’d returned to that catatonic state, his body falling to the ground, splattering violet serum everywhere.

Back then, she’d only observed him, some sort of odd pity despite everything. Had left him there, following Nahida into the last memory of Rukkhadevata. The floor leaked with the serum from the mechanical god, pools of silver-violet fluids that could almost be called blood. She could imagine a drop of it running from the corner of his eyes, the mimicry of a teardrop.

"I’d almost wanted to catch you that time, you know," she says offhandedly.

"…What are you reminiscing about now?" he scoffs.

"When Nahida took the gnosis from you, and you reached for it so desperately. You fell instead, and I’d thought about catching you," she says, her voice divorced from her body, everything becoming distant. For a second, she is not in the rainforest. She is not here. She is back in that empty underground palace, watching him fall again. "But I didn’t."

"Why?" he says, the words measured. She’d almost forgotten. His mercurial moods. How careful he could be, when he wants to substitute callousness for calculation. "Why did you even think about doing such a useless thing?"

Lumine tosses a mushroom at him again, and he flicks a wisp of Anemo at it. The blue frilled fungus spins through the air like a silk temari ball, flicking water everywhere before landing neatly in the basket with its fellow fungi. "Call it a lapse in judgement, Wanderer," she says. "Call it a bleeding heart, like you usually do."

"Hm." Wanderer wonders, "How many minutes before she starts screaming for help?"

Lumine blinks. "What?"

"You little companion," Wanderer says with a sly smile. "The tigers are pressing closer. Do you not sense them?"

As though right on his cue, a shriek pierces through the shadowed foliage. Birds cry in unison, a flutter of wings ruffling leaves as they flee. "Lumine!" a faint voice wails, followed by thundering roars.

Two? No, it must be at least three.

Lumine sighs. "Looks like it’s tiger meat for us tonight."

"Looks like," Wanderer agrees. "Shall we make a race of it? Loser has to wash tonight’s dinner dishes."

"Like you ever volunteered to wash them," Lumine says, but when he counts down, Three, Two—

Before he’s even reached 'One', he’s already darted off—just like she knew he would. He’s never been one for the rules. Which is why she also started running before he finished counting. The air whips past her face, her lungs burn, but the adrenaline keeps her feeling so, so alive.

"Never counted you for a cheater, Traveller!" she hears above her.

"Only if the competition calls for it!" she yells.

A resounding laugh, and just like that, they’re off.

: : :

Paimon swears the whole entirety of the universe seems to be going against her. Not only did she get chased by not one, not two, but four tigers, she also let the printed photo slip from her hand in the process. It had floated away like a fallen leaf, and then—gulp. Got swallowed up.

At least she wasn’t swallowed up along with the photo.

Small consolation though, when she’d found the remnants of the photo in one of the slain tigers’ mouths. The paper had already been chewed up and half-digested, colours washed out by saliva. You couldn’t make anything out except green and yellow and blue splotches. And it had been a great photo too. Lumine kissing Wanderer’s cheek, clear as day.

And now, she doesn’t have anything except the slight bubble of irritation and sore muscles from trying to evade claws.

“So, how’s it going?” Dori asks curiously.

“It’s going!” Paimon squeaks. "Almost got it, Dori!"

They’re sitting in a secluded corner outside the Akademiya, Dori with her legs swinging over the platform. Paimon doesn’t know how Dori’s not scared of falling, because despite her being able to float, just looking over the ledge has her woozy.

"Paimon doesn’t know if she can keep going," she admits. Not only is it hard to find something concrete, the more she tries to look, the more she feels that cool, sinking feeling in her stomach. Like she’s swallowed a huge stone.

"I believe in you, my partner," Dori says. She snaps her finger and points to one of the food carts in the marketplace below. "Don’t you dream of it? Owning a stall just like that, except its sole duty is to make you food whenever you want."

That… does sound quite good. Paimon can smell the butter chicken drifting above, the blend of spices that never quite tastes the same from household to household. Her mouth waters. She wouldn’t even have to bother Lumine every time she wants to eat something. "Paimon will keep trying," she says resolutely.

"That’s the spirit!" Dori cheers.

A thought occurs to Paimon, looking at Dori being so nonchalant. "Paimon wouldn’t have thought you’d participate in something so silly like this," Paimon says. "Don’t you have a business to run, Dori?"

"Mora is Mora. The Mora, the better," she says. "And where there’s Mora, there’s Dori.” A tilt of her glasses downwards, and she’s smiling. "Why do you like Mora, Paimon?"

"Because of all the things you can buy with it!"

"Well, I like Mora just because it’s Mora," Dori says. "If life is a race to accumulate Mora, then I want to be the winner."

"You don’t want to spend what you’ve earned?" Paimon says. She can’t imagine it, earning Mora for the sake of just Mora. Even Ningguang had said that she only sees Mora as a tool for her goals. Mora is potential; to let Mora sit is to waste potential, she’d once told Lumine.

"Well," Dori says, "not exactly. You gotta spend Mora to make Mora, right?"

"Right. But what’s your end goal, Dori?"

"To gather Mora!" Dori says. "I’ve already told you, haven’t I?"

"Yeah," Paimon says impatiently, "but there’s gotta be something you’ll do with the Mora after, right? You’re not gonna just let it sit around."

"That’s exactly what I want. A storehouse, filled to the brim with Mora, like that infamous mint in Liyue! I hear Mora literally litter the floor there. Can you imagine?" Paimon, in her infinite wisdom, keeps her mouth shut on how she’s been to the Golden House. That was just inviting disaster, letting Dori know that she and Lumine have infiltrated the place before. Dori pauses, a thoughtful look on her face as she murmurs, "With that much Mora, you’d never lose at anything. And Dori never loses. Never again."

"That’s exactly how a kid would think!"

"Some adults are just big kids," Dori says. "And some kids are just small adults. It all depends on the mindset, little Paimon."

"Paimon’s starting to wonder if you think it’s all a game, Dori." Paimon shakes her head. Dori is, as ever, an enigma. Whenever Paimon thinks Dori is showing kindness, it always turns out to be another front to make Mora. Some people just haven’t understood, Lumine had said, after one particularly trying conversation with Dori. She’d pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging her head. When they’re powerless, they clutch onto what they think represents power and worship its image—not realizing they’re chasing delusions.

Strangely enough, Paimon thinks Lumine wasn’t only talking about Dori.

"Ahem," Dori says, scratching her neck as though embarrassed. "We got a little derailed there, my little friend. Just keep me updated on the situation, all right?"

"Sure," Paimon says. "Paimon doesn’t think there’s much happening, though." Other than the whole cheek kiss thing—but that was Paimon’s suggestion, so it doesn’t count.  She continues, "They’re getting along well enough, but I don’t think there’s anything more to it."

"Eh?!" Dori exclaims. Her brows knit together. "Then what are you doing, still milling around here? It’s your job to change that! Get out there and chase that Mora!"

And here Paimon thought they’d been having a productive conversation, she thinks sourly. Guess not.

: : :

“I don’t know, Paimon… Shouldn’t we be heading out for our commissions by now?”

“Please, Lumine,” Paimon begs, tugging Lumine by her sleeves. “Doesn’t this place smell so good? And there’s coffee too! Please, please, pleaseeee?”

She promised Dori she’d try harder, but in truth, she became a little distracted by the daily going-ons to even attempt to orchestrate anything else. Paimon was a little wary too, because the last time she’d tried, she’d almost been bitten by a tiger for her troubles. So it’ll have to wait. Especially when there’s such a delicious smell that’s just calling out to her. Paimon flashes Lumine her best pleading eyes, knowing Lumine won’t be able to resist.

They’ve been avoiding Puspa Café—mostly on Paimon’s cue, because she hadn’t wanted Lumine to find out what’s been happening. But Paimon has been missing out on the cafe’s snacks, so this new find was just what she needed.

Lumine looks at Paimon, then looks at the cafe where the scent of pastries exudes from, melted sugar and spiced coffee. Just thinking about getting her hands on baklava is making Paimon’s mouth water. Thank the Archons that Paimon’s nose was so good, because otherwise, they’d have just passed by this place with barely a glance.

“…Maybe then,” Lumine allows, right as Paimon’s biggest enemy, the source of all her troubles right now, the stupid Hat Guy, says, “I don’t want to.”

“What!” Paimon reels back. “Why not?”

Wanderer glances at the cafe, its doors slightly ajar and the sound of chatter and laughter leaking out. “I don’t want anything from here.”

Paimon doesn’t know why in the world Lumine keeps inviting this guy out on their trips. So what if he was a little bit helpful sometimes! Paimon could be helpful too. Just not in combat… But loads of other stuff! Despite what Wanderer says!

She also chooses to ignore the fact that it creates more opportunities for her to complete Dori’s mission. That didn’t matter right now, when there’s cakes to be eaten.

“Didn’t you say we should hurry if we want to complete all the commissions today?” Wanderer raises an eyebrow. “You were the one who begged me for help, Traveller.”

“Oh, come on!” Paimon huffs, crossing her arms. “It’s not going to take long.”

“I didn’t offer my precious time so that you could go stuff your face.”

“Fine! We’ll just go in, me and Lumine!” Paimon sniffs. “You can stay right here and watch as we eat the best pastry of our lives.”

“Fine by me. Not that I was planning to stick around to see,” Wanderer says blandly, already tilting his hat down and turning around to leave. “Have fun—”

“Wait.” Lumine’s hand snatched out, grabbing him by his wrist.

And Wanderer, he freezes. For lack of a better word, he becomes so utterly still that Paimon would have thought that he had a heart attack. If he wasn’t, you know, incapable of that.

“Please,” Lumine says softly. She touches his hat, sliding her thumb across the edge. He doesn’t move. Still frozen. “I’d like for you to come with us.”

Lumine’s voice feathers with something very, very close to fondness. Or the L-word Paimon refuses to verbalize. 

Paimon’s left eye twitches. Was she having vision problems now? She blinks rapidly, and thankfully, the twitch goes away. But the whole situation still makes her want to pout.

"…Fine." Wanderer shakes off Lumine’s grip. He turns around, crosses his arm and bites out, "Since you’re so desperate for my company, Traveller."

Ugh. Whatever, since Lumine asked him to come, Paimon can’t say much. "Let’s goooo already," Paimon whines.

They find their seats in the cafe quick enough; it’s early in the morning, and there’s not many patrons that stay, everyone in a rush to get to work or to classes. It’s not as big as Puspa Cafe, but it has its own charms, stained glass colouring sunlight as it seeps through the window. Little pots of plant hang from the ceiling beams, vines curl lazily around wooden pillars. Lumine orders a coffee and hot chocolate.

“Oooh," Paimon says as she looks over the menu. "Can Paimon have a slice of the coconut cake?”

“I’ll let you have not one slice,” Lumine says, “but two. Aren’t I nice?”

Paimon claps her hands. “You’re the best, Lumine,” she enthuses.

“Of course I am.”

Seated beside Lumine, Wanderer scoffs. “Such a little thing to get you so riled up” he says.

“It’s the simple things in life,” Paimon says, closing her eyes and pretending to stroke an invisible beard.

“Exactly,” Lumine says, nodding her head.

 Then, at Wanderer’s disgusted look, their serious expressions distort. They both break into giggles. Wanderer scoffs, but leaves them to their joke.

Soon enough, their orders come. Wanderer didn’t opt for anything, which just meant he was an idiot who couldn’t appreciate the good things in life (though Paimon kept this to herself, if only to enjoy the quiet). As Paimon stuffs her snacks into her mouth, Lumine stirs her coffee.

“You didn’t ask for sugar,” Wanderer says. And then the strangest thing happens: he takes two packets of sugar and tears them open, before unceremoniously dumping them into Lumine’s coffee. As though to prove a point.

Lumine stays silent, staring at her cup as the sugar dissolves like snow into mud.

“You didn’t even ask,” Lumine says, a warning undertone to her voice Paimon only hears when she’s dealing with a difficult person, like Nimrod during one of his drunken episodes. Or during particularly trying times in Inazuma, when every little thing had been enough to set her off.

“No need,” he says. “Don’t you prefer your drink to be disgustingly sweet like this?”

 “You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

Paimon watches the show with hands around her own mug of hot chocolate, her eyes darting back and forth between them.

“What if I didn’t want to drink it with sugar?” Lumine says that, and yet still takes a sip from her cup.

Wanderer’s gaze remains on Lumine, and his face distorts as though he’d seen another bug—it reminds Paimon of his more insane days, and that’s why she keeps her mouth shut, despite how eerie he’s being. “But you like sugar,” Wanderer says, mouth twisted, a petulant edge to his voice. “You like sweet. Food, places, people—isn’t it better if they’re sweet?”

Paimon’s jaw drops open. Hot chocolate dribbles out from the corner of her mouth, sliding down her chin. The question feels like a trap. Is most definitely one, in fact, and even Paimon realizes that.

But Lumine, she doesn’t even blink. Instead, she puts down the coffee, smiling. Lumine is always so nonchalant in the face of Wanderer’s volatility. Paimon doesn’t know how she keeps herself so calm. “Sometimes,” Lumine says lightly, “I prefer bitter.”

“How could you?” Wanderer says, and Paimon thinks his words seem blacker than any coffee that could exist in the world.

“The labour may be bitter, but the fruits are sweeter for it.”

“…That’s nonsense. A comfort statement humans say to justify their miserable existence.” But despite saying that, Wanderer’s stare turns even more intense. Calmer for it, though, as though pacified by the statement he’d just scorned.

Lumine and Wanderer exchange a glance, and Lumine slides over her coffee. Wordlessly, Wanderer lifts the cup and takes a sip. He pulls a face. "Just as I’d predicted: sweet nonsense," he says, and Lumine laughs.

"You only have yourself to blame for it," Lumine points out.

"You were the one that offered," he says harshly.

"Doesn’t mean you were obligated to accept."

"Tch."

Paimon has had enough of their conversation. “Hey!” she says. Lumine and Wanderer’s eyes slide to her, and she sticks her tongue out at Wanderer. “I’m still here, you know.”

Wanderer rests his chin in his hand, elbow over the table. But he’s not even looking at Paimon, gaze flitting back to Lumine. “Believe me,” Wanderer says dryly, “I’m well aware.”

"Paimon, Paimon—!" She struggles for words, not knowing how to phrase this sensation in her belly. She huffs, massaging her stomach. It doesn’t help much.

“Are you okay, Paimon?” Lumine asks, her voice so genuine. And this is why through high hell and uneasy waters, Paimon thinks she could follow Lumine to the ends of the earth, no matter what.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she says. then she puffs out her cheeks. “Paimon’s just had enough of you guys talking about this boring, vague stuff."

“Boring to you, because your pea-sized brain can’t understand anything past a loud warning sign,” Wanderer mutters. Paimon blows a raspberry at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“You guys are always talking about things Paimon can’t understand.”

"Don’t worry about it, Paimon. It’s just Wanderer in one of his moods again."

"I do not have moods."

"Mhm." Lumine looks pointedly at Paimon, who bobs her head in agreement. "Like I said: one of his moods."

For a second, Wanderer looks as though he’s about to start another argument. But when Lumine takes another sip from her coffee and hums, he seems to think better of it, and only looks away from the both of them. Only an exasperated sigh. "No point in exchanging words with fools."

For the rest of the day, even as she’s munching on the candied nuts they’d ordered for the road, Paimon can’t stop thinking about it. How Dori had said that it’s obvious that there’s something going on.

It’s obvious, yes, but what was it? Just friendship? Should she have taken a picture of them then, when Wanderer had drunk from Lumine’s cup? Or when he’d shared that look with Lumine? Or all the way back in the beginning, when Lumine had grabbed Wanderer’s wrist?

To an outsider, without the words that Paimon had heard, without the history between them, did it even look anything like romance?

Paimon doesn’t have an answer, and she isn’t sure she wants one. But the funny things about answers: they come when you least expect it. Unfortunately for her.

: : :

Enough time passes, and when the memories of Rishboland tigers breathing down her back finally stop haunting her nightmares—and she’d gotten over her apprehensions, that feeling in her stomach finally passed—Paimon readies herself for another tackle at this whole "orchestrate a photo of Lumine and Wanderer looking like they’re lovers for Mora" situation. It’s the perfect time too, because the day is Wanderer’s birthday—though how Lumine ever found out such a date must have been black magic, because Paimon can’t imagine the ex-Balladeer every offering up the information willingly.

When she asks Lumine, she laughs and says, "It’s not so hard when you know the trick." Her eyes are sparkling with mirth. "Why, you do it all the time, Paimon."

"Huh? What do you mean, Lumine? What’s the trick?"

"Bargaining, of course."

Paimon scratches her head. She did haggle pretty well, but she doesn’t think she could ever out-talk Wanderer. She glances down at the bundle swinging from Lumine’s hand, a little bag of loose-leaf tea. Lumine had paid a pretty penny for it too, owing to it being a special import from Inazuma. Not that Paimon really understood what was happening with the types of green tea, like the vendor had been droning on and on about. Wasn’t green tea just green tea? Green tea was a little too bitter for her, anyway.

"So what did you offer him?" Paimon asks.

"Hm?" Lumine doesn’t look away from the daggers she’d been inspecting, and Paimon waits patiently. The blacksmith forge is running, as it always is, the furnace blasting hot wind in their faces. Ahangar is working in the background, his hammer banging out a ringing rhythm that never seems to cease. Lumine always liked to take a detour to see the weapons, even if she never buys anything for herself. The most she’d ever done was take her sword in for a sharpening, and even then, it doesn’t happen often. Lumine has always maintained her blade herself, out of convenience more than anything. It’s a little hard to find a blacksmith in the desert or rainforest, after all. Lumine steps back from the table of finely crafted daggers, ranging from simple to ornate. One even had gold gildings on its scabbard, gold filigrees writhing over lustrous steel. Must be worth a lot of Mora. Lumine turns to glance at Paimon, and says, "What do you mean?"

"What did you offer Wanderer in exchange for knowing when his birthday is?"

"…Secret," Lumine says mysteriously.

"Oh, come on!" Paimon whines. "Shouldn’t we share everything, Lumine? Remember article thirty-seven, 'Fairness and Justice,’ of the 'Paimon Decree’?"

"Of course I do," Lumine says solemnly.

"Then tell Paimon!" She shakes a fist in faux anger, pouting.

Lumine holds up her hand, and laughs. "Okay, okay! You want to hear the truth?"

Paimon nods, waiting.

"The truth is… I didn’t offer him anything. I only asked politely."

Paimon stares at her, eyes wide. "And he told you, just like that?"

"After a little digging," Lumine relents. "He’s not entirely unreasonable."

"Paimon finds that hard to believe."

"You and me both," Lumine says. She stretches her arms and looks up at the sun. Halfway across the skies, it’s almost noon. "Now then, shall we go find our birthday boy?"

"…Don’t say that nickname to his face."

"I won’t. I’m not looking to pick a fight," she chuckles.

"If there’s a fight though," Paimon muses, "you’d definitely win."

"You think so?"

"Of course! Especially when you have such a great cheerleader behind you!"

Lumine laughs. Paimon grins. Whatever happens, she’s just glad Lumine’s with her.

Will she always? What if she finds another travelling companion? some insidious voice starts rumbling in her mind. Paimon scowls and bats the thought away.

"What’s wrong?" Lumine asks.

"Just a bug," Paimon says. She glances at the tea bag, before putting on her best smile. "Paimon’s okay now."

: : :

The Sanctuary of Surasthana, when he enters, is as iridescent as ever. Gleaming steel floors and effusing green glow, he’s never liked the fact that Kusanali has chosen to make it her base of operations. Not that he can’t appreciate the irony of her ruling from what once used to be her cage, but the Sanctuary is too empty. Wholly devoid of life. It doesn’t suit her, the goddess of Dendro.

And it’s too quiet. It’s always too quiet. Every step of his sandals against the cold, metal bridge echoes. Nahida waits at the centre, patiently watching him. He scowls and picks up speed. Nahida beams at him when he reaches her, hands folded together as she always does when she’s deliberating on something. "Why did you call for me?" he says. It had been a fine enough day, until she chose to make herself known in his consciousness.

Not that he dislikes her presence, but he’d thought he could avoid her on this day. Apparently not.

“The Traveller was trying to find you earlier,” Nahida says, and he hasn’t lived for over five centuries without learning how to pick out slyness when he hears it.

“For what?” he says.

“Your birthday,” Nahida says cheerfully. “Come to think of it, how did she even know? I didn’t realize you trusted her enough to tell her.”

“I don’t.”

“Mhm. Is that why you have stacks of dishes in that basket right now?”

He scowls. “You’re the one who told me I should join that stupid cooking group!”

“So you did make it for her.” Nahida smiles, pleased. She peers at the basket, murmuring, "Baklava and candied nuts, hm? That’s very sweet of you." He snorts at her accusations—and the horrible pun—but Nahida continues checking through the contents, unbothered. "Paimon and the Traveller will enjoy that, particularly little Paimon. Oh, is this chasuke? I’ve read about it in Inazuman cuisine books, but I’ve never actually tried any."

"You can have it."

"No, no," Nahida shakes her head. "That won’t do. Their destinies have already been determined, and I do not wish to disturb the flow."

Wanderer rolls his eyes. Too many words to say that she’d feel sorry if the Traveller doesn’t get to taste it. "I’ll make some for you later," he says.

Nahida giggles. She’s always so easily entertained. He doesn’t understand her enthusiasm, but whatever. It’s not any of his business. "All right," she says, gesturing with her hand for him to bend now. "It’s a special day, so I have something for you too."

"I didn’t realize my birthday was such a spectacle for you," he scoffs, but lowers his head. A flourish of her fingers, and a flower blooms from out of nowhere, blue and white petals whose colour palette looks oddly similar to his clothes. She folds it into his hair, and says, "My blessings."

"I have no need for the gods’ blessing, Lesser Lord Kusanali," he says, immediately taking the flower out of his hair. He tucks the flower into his tunic, into the breast pocket stitched inside, decidedly not looking at her.

Nahida doesn’t get angry, only beams that much brighter. "Not the god Kusanali," she corrects. "Nahida. It’s a gift from Nahida. Will that do, Wanderer?"

Her eyes are so sincere, he’s left wordless for a second. Not for the first time does he wonder how she’s able to treat him with such unconditional kindness, given what he’d attempted to do. (Bring down the skies, crush every flower underfoot, unroot that cursed tree called destiny.)

"You deserve happiness," Nahida says, as though she’d read his mind. But she hadn’t moved her fingers an inch.

“Buer,” he says, and he hasn’t used her Archon name in, well, ever. Since his defeat. Since that moment the gnosis was torn from him, the corded connections between him and the Shouki no Kami snapped. “Next time it’s your birthday,” he says, “watch your back.”

“Will you be coming for me?” Nahida says, folding her hands together, a gentle smile on her face. "Why?"

“Karma,” he says.

“How so?”

“What goes around comes around,” Wanderer says.

“Naturally.” Nahida giggles. “I look forward to your gift then, Wanderer.”

He scowls, but doesn’t protest when she pats his hand. And before he leaves, just as the doors of the Sanctuary slide open, the outside world beckoning with a slash of sunlight over his narrowed eyes, Nahida calls out his name. “Wanderer!” she says. “There’s a quite interesting wager going around Sumeru City. Are you aware?”

He doesn’t look back. It’s too late for that, and he has somewhere else to go. But he does toss out, “When have I ever concerned myself with the opinion of other people?”

Behind him, Nahida’s laughter rings, carried away on a sudden, spring breeze.

: : :

Paimon wouldn’t say that she and Lumine ambushed Wanderer. No, ambush was too harsh a word. Accosted, maybe? That wasn’t it either, Paimon decides, settling herself at the corner and munching on baklava. He really was a good cook, despite his constant grumbling while fussing at the stove, when they’d been travelling together.

She takes another bite of her baklava, letting the sweetness flood through her. Approached. That was it.

"Do you like it?" Lumine asks.

"Paimon has to take more bites just to make sure it’s not poisoned," Paimon says gravely. "For your safety, Lumine."

"As if I’d go the extra mile just to poison you," Wanderer mutters. "It’d be easier to just throw you into the ocean."

Floating on a metaphorical cloud of sugary goodness, Paimon doesn’t even have the energy to argue with him. She just sighs instead, too conked out in her blissful, sugar-induced coma.

"You have sugar all over your lips, Paimon," Lumine says amusedly, bringing a napkin to Paimon’s lips and wiping off the residue stickiness.

"Stop worrying over the little thing and eat already," Wanderer snaps.

"Okay, okay!" Lumine says. She reaches into the basket that Wanderer had been carrying and pulls out a nicely packaged bowl. "You sound so eager for me to have a taste."

"Are you going to eat or not? Any more dawdling and I’m going to leave."

"I’m eating, I’m eating!" Lumine uncovers the dish. "Chazuke?" Lumine says in amazement. "It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten this." Her voice turns wistful, delicate. "Inazuma is a long way from here."

"Then be thankful you have me," Wanderer says. Paimon dusts her hand off the leftover crumbs from the baklava and reaches for the Candied Ajilenakh Nuts, and it’s hard not to notice the way he stares at Lumine. An aimless sort of look, one hand on his cheek, as though bored—even though his gaze never quite leaves Lumine’s vicinity.

And it seems like Paimon’s not the only one who’s noticed.

"Do you want any?" Lumine brandishes the spoon like a sword, waving it in Wanderer’s face. The bowl of chazuke sits in front of her, glistening. Lumine had offered some to Paimon, but Paimon had contented herself with the pastries instead. 

Wanderer scoffs. "You're offering me food that I cooked," he says. "And on my birthday, no less?"

Lumine rolls her eyes. "You could have just said 'no.'"

Paimon agrees. But then, when Lumine brings up the spoonful of rice to her mouth, he grabs her wrist and brings it to his instead, ignoring Lumine’s squawk of surprise.

"Hey!" Paimon protests around a mouthful of dough. Her voice comes out mumbled and incomprehensible, but she’s trying, she really is. "What’re you doing to Lumine?"

Wanderer chews on the chazuke. "Not bad," he allows, letting go of Lumine’s hand.

Lumine looks at him flatly. "You're just praising yourself now. Egotistical much?"

"It's my birthday," he points out.

"Yes, yes," Lumine says, exasperated. "You sure like reminding me of the fact, huh? I’ve already given you your present, Wanderer."

Indeed, the bag of tea leaves are on the table, exchanged from when they’d first met. Wanderer had taken it, and scoffed anyway. I never asked for anything.

But I wanted to, Lumine had said, and Wanderer had grunted. Wordlessly thrust a basket into Lumine’s arms. It was only with much, much cajoling from Lumine that Wanderer didn’t leave right after.

"You have something here." Lumine points to her face.

Paimon glances at Wanderer’s face, and Lumine’s right. There’s a grain of leftover rice stubbornly clinging onto his skin. Wanderer frowns. Swipes at his lips with the back of his hand roughly.

"No, a little more down. I’ll get it," Lumine says absentmindedly, setting down the spoon and reaching for another napkin.

"What’re you—"

"Stay still," Lumine orders, and she wipes away the rice grain like she had with Paimon moments prior. Paimon stares. Should she be taking the photo now? But she doesn’t even have her camera with her, so there’s no point.

"There," Lumine says triumphantly. And then Lumine retreats back to eating, scooping another spoon of unagi rice into her mouth. "Wish I had chopsticks for this," she says absentmindedly. Chopsticks were hard to come by in Sumeru City. Port Ormos would have them, owing to its nearness to the Liyue-Sumeru border, but there’s not much Liyue cuisine in the main city.

Wanderer’s eyes go wide, his expression almost comical in its disbelief. Paimon would laugh and make fun of him for looking so stupid, but her teeth are currently glued together by the hard syrup coating the candied nuts. As it is, she can only squint as Wanderer touches his fingers to his lips, gaze thoughtful. 

"I’ll get you something better next year," he murmurs. "Something more permanent."

Lumine blinks, and looks at him, startled. "It’s your birthday," she says, dumbfounded.

"I know," he says. 

They stare at each other, and continue to stare. The chazuke goes untouched. It must be getting cold. Surrounded by silence, Paimon goes back to sullenly picking at the food. Weirdos, Paimon thinks, chewing slowly.

: : :

After lunch, they decide to go treasure hunting. A strange thing to do, considering that it’s Wanderer’s birthday, but he’d only shrugged when Lumine asked him how he wants to spend the day. I have nothing better to do. Just go about your day as you normally would, he’d said. Entertain me, Traveller.

So treasure hunting it is. Lumine digs out one of the old maps from her inventory, one that they’d never gotten around to solving. They’ve been trying to decipher the scribbles for a while now, but whoever the cartographer had been, they’d clearly been on something while drawing it. The scroll looks more like an abstract piece of art than anything resembling a map.

Paimon hadn’t forgotten her Kamera, this time around. She’s been playing with it while Lumine pores over the map, fiddling with the settings and printing out random photos. This plant, that tree, the annoyed look on Wanderer’s face. She particularly liked that one.

Busy musing over how to best capture Lumine and Wanderer together in a way that would make sense—she can’t just tell Lumine to kiss him on the cheek again, that would raise Lumine’s suspicions—Paimon is just about to give up. As she stuffs one of the leftover candied nuts in her mouth, head starting to hurt with how hard she’s thinking, she glances at them.

And it makes her wonder. 

The Traveller, people will say, is kind. And it’s true. Lumine is kind. Kind to her friends, kind to strangers, kind to anyone that is kind in turn.

But there’s an important distinction in how Lumine shows it. Lumine is kind to Paimon like a sister. Lumine is kind to strangers like a flower bud blooming in June, only allowing them the briefest glimpse of a nameless traveller before moving on with her journey.

And Lumine is kind to Wanderer too, but not in the same way. She tolerates him in a way that she doesn’t with others. Paimon silently notes the way they’re seated next to each other. Lumine has the map out, the wrinkled yellowing paper wide enough to sprawl both over her lap and Wanderer’s—and to Paimon’s surprise, he hasn’t even said a word in resistance.

Instead, it’s Lumine pointing to the points of interest, musing aloud to herself, and Wanderer idly speaking up once in a while to offer whatever information he has, when he feels like it.

Paimon chews on her candy a little more, trying to find the right words to describe their closeness. The way that Wanderer’s crossed leg casually rests over Lumine, his heel over her ankle. Lumine hands Paimon more candy while she’s trying to gather her thoughts about where to go next, an automatic gesture done without looking up from her map, as though Paimon was a plant in constant need of watering. She reaches and pats Paimon’s hair too, as though unconsciously seeking comfort.

And when Wanderer catches the motion, his gaze following Lumine’s hand to meet Paimon’s curious eyes—he smirks.

Paimon has, for the briefest of seconds, the strange urge to bare her teeth and growl like an animal. She scowls instead, raising her chin. Wanderer scoffs and looks away, but it doesn’t appease Paimon.

Did she eat something funny? Paimon doesn’t know. All she feels is that familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, like a collected pool of darkness despite the sunny sky hanging overhead.

Paimon looks at Lumine and Wanderer again. Her heart aches, but not in the indigestion kind of way. No, this doesn’t feel like acid reflux—more like someone’s punched her right in the chest and ripped out her heart.

Oh, Archons! She’s not having a heart attack now, is she?

: : :

"Paimon’s going to go walk around for a bit!" Paimon announces from out of nowhere. Lumine looks up, and the little fairy shoots up from the stone she’d been sitting on. And she’s frowning. Lumine doesn’t know what’s wrong, but it’s too late to stop Paimon. She’s already floating off. 

Lumine watches her go, and sighs. It’s fine. At least there were no curious tigers around this time to  mistake her for some kind of strange fungus. Once had been enough. The area is safe enough, anyway, too close to Sumeru City for most misfortune to occur. "Another one of her tantrums," she says to Wanderer. "I don’t know what’s wrong with her lately. She’s been switching between being happy and angry so easily, and I have no idea why."

"Growing pains," Wanderer says. "Her emotional horizon is expanding."

"Is that really it?" Lumine murmurs.

"Trust me," he says dryly. "I would know." He raises his hand and flexes it, as though displaying the mobility of his joints. "Puppet, remember?"

Again with the self-deprecating attitude. He’d always had the bad tendency to internalize his thoughts, let it boil within him until it’s too much to contain. She thought he’d gotten over it—but then again, five hundred years of resentment was a hard thing to just get over. She’s still struggling with her own conflicting emotions toward Aether, and it hasn’t even been a decade since she’d last seen him. It’s only been a couple of years since he’d tossed her away, We have always had enough time, and his words are still festering in her mouth like a sore that’s never healed.

Lumine tilts her head and looks at Wanderer. He tilts the rim of his hat upward, meeting her gaze without fear. Lumine has that odd feeling on the back of her neck again, an incessant heat that appears whenever she gets too close to him. She shifts, makes to move aside to create some distance, but then his hand snatches out.

"Don’t," he murmurs, gripping onto her fingers. "Stay."

"Isn’t that what I’m doing?" she says, unsure of what’s happening. Unsure of herself.

"…Why do you keep inviting me everywhere?" Wanderer asks, completely changing the topic. What is up with everyone around her today?

But he’s looking at her so earnestly, so unlike the usual guarded him, that Lumine has to answer. She clears her throat. Lays her other hand over his, where he’s gripping onto her fingers. "Would you believe me if I said that I appreciate your company?"

"I’m not so easy to fool, Traveller."

"I’m being honest."

"What is there to appreciate?" he says.

Straight to the heart of the matter. "…Your fighting skills?"

He tsked, rolling his eyes. Leans toward her, the rim of his hat tipping over her head. Around them, the soft tinkling of his ornaments. "You can do better than that, Traveller."

Somehow, it feels like she’s being shaken down by a gangster for her Mora pouch. "Your personality?"

And what a winning personality it is, because he immediately scowls and snaps, "Don’t lie to me."

"I already said, I’m being honest!"

"Sure. What else?"

"I like…" Lumine takes a shuddering breath. "You know things about me that others don’t. You see me beyond just a traveller, beyond a hero or an enemy. You hate sweets, but you bake pastries for me and Paimon anyway. You always mock me, yet you always have my back when we fight. And you’re always looking, when you think I don’t know. I like you for you, every part of it," she says, feeling absurdly vulnerable. "I thought… you’d have known."

He doesn’t answer, and his gaze slides to the spot right above her rib cage. She’d broken it before fighting the Shouki no Kami, in one of the many memory loops. "Have you forgiven me of my sins?" he says softly.

She hasn’t forgiven her brother for abandoning her, but here she is, still a fool searching for answers. "You don’t always need forgiveness to start the next chapter," Lumine murmurs.

HIs lips curl. "And if I said that I want you to stay with me," Wanderer says, "would you understand what I meant?"

Her heart pounds against her ribcage, an insistent war drum. She’d felt this before, that pivotal moment before she marches to battle, throws herself in a fight, unsheathes her blade to hack at anything that moves.

Except right now, she doesn’t feel the need for a weapon. Her arms feel weak. If she were holding her sword, it’d have fallen right out of her hand.

Lumine’s eyes dart besides him, then above him. Darts everywhere except his face. Her cheeks feel flushed, like she’s running a fever. Her skin prickles, and she blurts out, "It’s your birthday. If you want me to stay with you today, I will."

"No," Wanderer says. "Beyond today."

"I… I want to," Lumine says. "But would you follow me, if I asked you?"

"I would," he says evenly. "I would follow you to the ends of Teyvat, and beyond even that, if you ask it of me."

She’d forgotten, how intense he could be. How obsessive. Lumine thinks that even without asking him to follow, he’d track her down anyway. At what point did it change to something like this? When she first found him within the Grand Bazaar, lost and amnesiac? No, it must have begun before that. "You’d discard your current relationships here?" she asks. "Leave behind old enmities and new friendships?"

Wanderer considers her words. "Perhaps," he says finally. "Perhaps not."

"See? We both have obligations we can’t ignore. For now, isn’t it better that we…" She wets her lips, and his eyes locks onto the movement. "…appreciate what we have right now?"

"And what is it that we are?"

Friendship doesn’t seem quite right. But neither is rivalry. Heat floods her face. She clears her throat again. "Friends?"

"You say that to everyone,” he says sourly.

Why is he making it seem as though she’s the one coming onto him, like he was some innocent maid and she was some infamous philanderer? "You don’t know that," she protests.

"No. I want something more unique," he demands.

"...Companions?"

Wanderer considers it. "That’s what you call the little thing." He looks at her, as though to demand even more than that. Lumine doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, at a loss for words. "Give me a kiss," he suddenly says, lifting her chin with the tip of a finger. "It’s my birthday, isn’t it?"

At this point, she really shouldn’t be shocked at his outrageous demands. Give him a pond, he’ll take an ocean. Give him a day, he’ll take a year—and more than.

"…Paimon is still around," she says weakly.

"But she’s not looking, is she?" he says.

When he leans forward, pressing his lips to her, she doesn’t protest. There’s a particular scent to him, like dandelions and sandalwood. An odd combination, but she doesn’t mind as much as she should.

It’s a little clumsy. Their noses are definitely not in the right position, which means she can’t quite breathe. They break apart, her hands on his chest.

"You taste like sugar," he says, licking over his teeth as though trying to catch the taste. Casual, as though he hadn’t been making the most absurd sounds while kissing her. "Eat less sweets next time."

…There’s a next time? Or so Lumine meant to ask, but the next second, he goes back for more. Give him one kiss, he’ll take a million. Lumine gasps at the sudden coolness of his fingers as they sneak up her thigh—when had he maneuvered his hands to under her dress?!—and he hums. Even without words, she knows he’s smug. Not that she cared particularly much at the moment—

Then, a loud crash. It reverberates, like glass shattering. Dimly, Lumine becomes aware of a familiar scream, oddly close. And this time, there’s no tigers in the area.

Lumine pushes Wanderer away. When turns her head, she finds Paimon with an expression of perfect horror, as though she’d just seen a crocodile violently snap its jaw over an unsuspecting finch. The Kamera is on the ground, mechanical parts scattered.

Lumine flinches. Oh dear.

: : :

Once she’s far enough from Lumine, Paimon lays herself down. The grass tickles her neck. She closes her eyes, placing the Kamera over her chest. In Paimon’s mind, the conversation with Dori goes something like this:

She’d go to Dori. She’d say, I don’t want to do this anymore.

Why not? Dori’s discombobulated body dances in her imagination like an inflatable balloon, purple and red and pink.

He already has too much of Lumine, Paimon admits.

Not even for food? Dori suddenly grows a thousand arms, each carrying a plate of food. All the world’s dishes seem to be in her hands. Paimon’s mouth waters from the imaginary scent of the spices, but then she shakes her head.

Not even for Mora? Suddenly, the food disappears, and Mora is raining down, gathering in little mounds on the floor, growing into molehills. Paimon’s fingers itch, but she shakes her head.

No, not for food, not for Mora. Paimon just wants Lumine, she’d tell Dori. She stares at the Mora, and the Mora turn into snacks. Stares even harder, the snacks morph into Mora. Paimon stares and stares and feels so, so miserable. What good are snacks if Lumine wasn’t there to enjoy them with Paimon?

Do you really think Lumine would abandon you for Wanderer?

Wanderer can do so many things Paimon can’t. Can fly Lumine up. Can fight next to Lumine. Can cook Lumine yummy food. And Paimon’s decision to partner with Dori to do this stupid thing is coming back to bite her, because Lumine and Wanderer kissed and maybe Lumine doesn’t want Paimon anymore, now that she has someone better as her companion.

Suddenly, Dori’s body melts away like a candle. And within the wax, there’s a mini Lumine. You won’t fight for me, Paimon? You’ll let me go, just like that?

Paimon’s eyes fly open. She made a mistake. She left them alone! Argh! Paimon bites her lips. No, she needs to go back right now and split them apart. There’s still a chance!

But then. Just as she flies back to the clearing where they’d settled, she sees it. The most horrendous sight in the world. Lumine and Wanderer…

"K-Kissing," Paimon says numbly. And she should take a photo of it. Bring it back to Dori for Mora. She should feel good about the whole ordeal, but she really doesn’t. Instead, the Kamera drops from her hand, a click and a bang, and just like that, Paimon bursts apart.

: : :

"Paimon," Lumine says, placing a hand on Paimon’s shaking shoulder, but even that’s not enough to make Paimon feel better. "Tell me what’s wrong."

"Don’t wanna," she sniffles. At least Wanderer didn’t follow after them, so he’s not around to see Paimon be all pathetic. "Lumine is gonna, gonna—"

She breaks out in a wail, and Lumine says hurriedly, "It’s okay, Paimon. I’ll fix the Kamera."

"It’s not the Kamera!"

"Then I’ll buy you all the candied nut you could ever want."

"It’s not the snacks!"

Wringing her hand at Paimon’s sobbing, Lumine says, "Is it because of Wanderer?"

At the sound of his name, Paimon curls herself up against Lumine and sobs even harder.

"Did he tease you too much?" Lumine puts her hand on Paimon’s cheek and hugs herself around Paimon’s quivering body.

"It’s not that!"

"Did he hurt you?"

"N-No," Paimon whimpers.

"Then what did he do? Tell me, and I’ll go beat him up for you."

"He didn’t do anything! Wanderer’s actually kinda nice to Paimon even if he says a lot of meanie things and he doesn’t yell when Paimon messes up and he cooks pastries when Paimon asks!" she cries, and then breaks into another wail. Why couldn’t Wanderer just go back to being a stupid villain? Then Lumine wouldn’t like him so much. Then Paimon could hate him without feeling guilty.

"There, there," Lumine says, stroking the back of Paimon’s head. Her voice turns softer. "You must have felt left out, is that it?"

"A-A little!"

It was a little hard, watching Wanderer and Lumine get so close. And she can’t understand Lumine in the same way that Wanderer can, with their wordless exchanges, but Lumine’s hug is warm. So warm.

Paimon doesn’t want to give Lumine up. Not for anything in the world.

"Oh, Paimon…" Lumine holds onto Paimon even tighter. "No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you."

"So…" Paimon wipes away at the corners of her eyes. She fixes her gaze on Lumine, but the tears make everything into blurry gold. "…Lumine won’t leave Paimon for Wanderer? Even though he can cook and fight and k-kiss?"

Lumine coughs at that last part. "Of course not," Lumine says. "Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses, Paimon."

"Paimon’s not good at a lot of things, though," she mumbles.

"Yes, you are," Lumine says. "You’re great at cheering me up. You tell the best jokes. You’re always here for me; you’re my bestest friend, Paimon."

Paimon clings onto Lumine’s neck. She smells like tender grass, fresh dew. "S-So Paimon is important to Lumine?"

“The most important,” Lumine says.

“Even more than Wanderer?”

“More than anyone,” Lumine emphasizes. "Including Wanderer." And then she pauses. "But don’t tell him that."

That sends Paimon into a flurry. "Lumine’s trying to play Paimon!" she accuses, smacking her hand on Lumine’s arm. "You’re not being loyal! Paimon bets you’re going to tell Wanderer the exact same thing you told Paimon!"

"Why do you both make me sound like some unfaithful womanizer…"

"Hmph!"

"Come on," Lumine coaxes. "It’s Lumine, your bestest friend."

Paimon falters.

"As punishment for making the great Paimon upset," Lumine says, "I’ll bake the great Paimon a two-layered—no, three-layered cake on her next birthday!"

And when Paimon harrumphs, Lumine says, "With a huge jello slime sitting at the top! Topped with whip cream!"

…She did like whip cream. "When it’s Paimon’s birthday, you better bake Paimon the bestest cake!" she orders. "And-And—" She scrambles her brain, and adds, "—you better give Paimon a gift more expensive than Wanderer’s! And tell Wanderer that Paimon’s a better companion than him! Don’t forget!"

"Never," Lumine says gravely. "May I be struck by lightning if I do."

"D-Don’t go that far!" Paimon says frantically. "Paimon doesn’t want you to become a, a roast duck or something!"

Lumine smiles, and then she presses her cheek to the Paimon’s forehead and laughs. "Never change, Paimon," she says.

“Does Lumine promise she won’t leave Paimon without a warning?” Paimon says.

“If I do leave,” Lumine says, “you’d definitely come with me, Paimon. Won’t you?”

“Of course! Paimon is Lumine’s bestest travel guide!”

 : : :

I broke the Kamera, is what Paimon will first say to Dori when she meets her for their final meeting. But it’s being fixed by the smartest person Paimon knows. Namely: Nahida.

I couldn’t take the photo, is what Paimon will then say. But I didn’t want to take one, anyway.

I don’t want to be partners anymore, is what Paimon will finally say. I have Lumine, and that’s more than enough for Paimon.

However, when it actually came down to the meeting, before Paimon could get a word in, Dori promptly shoves a sack at her.

"Wha—oomph!" Paimon pants as she struggles to hold onto the sack. "What’s in here, Dori?"

"Our winnings!" Dori says happily. In her hand is a single coin, and she holds it up to the sun. It sparkles, almost blinding, and Dori giggles. "Shiny, shiny Mora. I knew it was a good idea, to count on you, Paimon."

"But Paimon didn’t do anything?" Paimon says, grunting as she settles the sack on the ground. It’s way too heavy.

"Not to worry," Dori waves off. "Someone sent over a message already. And the photo too—I’ve been making a fortune selling access to it."

"You’ve been what?"

"Oops—I mean, it’s all settled for you. The Kamera, the photo, I already know everything I need to know," Dori shakes her head. "Look at all the Mora we’ve made. Enough to last you for a while, don’t you think?

"Paimon doesn’t understand…"

"Well, you see…" Dori says, "There was a little birdie that flew here and settled everything. Quite a scary birdie, but quite helpful too. So the Mora is yours, my partner."

"Oooookay," Paimon says hesitantly. "What did you do with the photo, Dori?"

"Oh, just passed it around as proof for a little while," Dori says. "Don’t worry, Dori guarantees it won’t leak out!" And then her face turns stern. "You’d better not tell anyone about our deal either, okay?"

"Paimon wasn’t going to…"

"And that includes the Traveller!"

"Not even Lumine?" Paimon asks.

"Not even the Traveller!"

"B-But Paimon shares everything with Lumine!" Paimon says.

"The little birdie said no," Dori says, "so Dori’s gotta respect it. But you wanna know what the little birdie whispered to itself at the end, before flying off?"

"What is it?"

"Gotta pay up!" Dori says, holding out her hand. "Only one million Mora!"

"Dori!" Paimon scolds. "Paimon’s already keeping a secret from Lumine for you!"

"Oh, fine," Dori sighs. "Little birdie said…"

Paimon leans closer, and Dori whispers, "Little birdie said, 'It’d be funnier if the Traveller finds out for herself.' And that’s it." Dori stands back and muses, "What do you make of it?"

"…That this bird of yours is a real weirdo," Paimon decides.

: : :

Later, when she meets up with Lumine at the Grand Bazaar, the first thing she does when she sees Lumine and Wanderer sitting at a bench together is not to wail. Instead, she immediately dumps the sack of coins in Lumine’s lap, sighing contently as the coins jingle upon impact.

Lumine startles. "Huh?" she says. "What’s this?" She loosens the drawstring and then puts a hand over her eyes, as though the glint of the Mora was too strong.

"Mora," Paimon says simply, shaking her hands. Geez, her arms are sore! But it couldn’t be helped. It had been a miracle, honestly, that no one tried to rob her on the way here. But Dori had said she’ll take care of it—free of charge for you, dear partner—so Paimon guesses she should be a little thankful. Just a little though; her arms are still sore from carrying the Mora.

Lumine looks at Paimon, a confused furrow of her brows. "Where did you get this?"

"Stocks," Paimon says gravely.

Wanderer snorts. Lumine elbows him, and he grunts. "I know the Sumeru markets can be lucrative if you’re smart about it… But isn’t this a little too much, Paimon? How much did you put in?"

"The stars aligned," Paimon says, waving her hands mysteriously like she’s seen the fortune-tellers do. "And decided that Paimon should come into a small fortune."

"Isn’t that just gambling?" Lumine fusses.

"In a way," Wanderer says. He glances at Paimon, who sticks out her tongue at him. "Mora-obsessed little thing," Wanderer says. "Made a tidy sum, have you?"

"All thanks to you," Paimon says cheekily. And Lumine, she silently adds. If they hadn’t kissed, and if someone else hadn’t coincidentally taken a photo at the same time, Paimon wouldn’t be where she is now, floating above a giant sack of Mora. The stars really did align on this one.

"Hm." Wanderer stares at the brown sack, and then at Lumine’s confused expression. "I didn’t do it because of you," he says nonchalantly. "Don’t let the others accuse you of rigging the game."

Paimon squints at Wanderer, who only smirks. "What are you talking about?" she says flatly.

"I don’t know," he says. "What am I talking about?"

Maybe… Paimon’s brain is starting to hurt from how hard it’s working. "Did you…" Paimon trails off.

Wanderer shrugs. "Who knows?"

(How it happened had been on a whim. He had watched silently as Lumine chased after the little pixie. What kind of soap opera was playing right now? He rolled his eyes at the dramatics—not as if his own life isn’t one long-running joke, though. Wanderer walked over to where Paimon had been floating over and knelt down to inspect the casualty. The Kamera was definitely unserviceable, broken into its component parts and lying miserably in the grass, metal gears drooping out of the metal frame, wet with dew like bloody organs on gory crime scene.

Lesser Lord Kusanali could probably fix this. He picked up the parts. Shoddy craftsmanship, he thought, to break so easily. When he gently cracked open the metal frame to assess the damages, there’s a hum, and then the whole device started whirring, spitting out a print.

Wanderer narrowed his eyes as he inspects the photo, resisting his initial urge to set fire to it. 

…Whatever. He could salvage this too.

It’d be better in the long run, anyway.)

"I don’t understand," Lumine says, tilting her head. "What’s happening? Is there trouble?"

"Don’t worry about it," Wanderer says breezily. And then, on the bench of the Grand Bazaar, in front of the entire market and its merchants and its customers, Wanderer kisses Lumine. Right on the lips.

Paimon yelps and slaps both her hands over her eyes. "Gross!" she says. She’s already been subjected to the sight, why’d she have to see it again? She can already feel the prickle of curious eyes at the audacious couple. Wanderer is still such a weirdo. First he gets unhappy at seeing other people kiss in public, and now he’s the one doing it himself?

Lumine pushes Wanderer off her. Her face is flushed, her neck bright red. "What are you doing?" she says, scandalized. “We’re in public!”

"Just setting one for the record," he says silkily.

"What the hell do you mean? What record?"

"Letting whoever needs to know, know." Wanderer glances at Paimon, and smirks. "This way, there’s no debate about it, photo or no photo.”