Archive of Our Own

Kaveh has been having recurring visions lately. 

Two months before this day, he went on an expedition to the desert with a few other scholars, two of whom were his juniors from the Akademiya. They didn’t explicitly say they needed his help, but Kaveh was more than willing to tag along with them since they were heading in the same direction — aside from the fact that they could split the cost there, he couldn’t just leave the two of them. During their travel, Kaveh indulged them in most of the topics they touched on, and to his surprise, it was quite enjoyable. Kaveh rarely comes across scholars who are willing to discuss a matter with an open mind and does not derogate others who have a different value from them. It is possible that he’s exaggerating on the last part, however, he’s convinced that if anyone else had spent so much time with Alhaitham, they would have felt the same way as he does. The two juniors were easy to talk to, so naturally, Kaveh found himself sharing more than a piece of his mind in their discussions. At first, it was all fair, nothing that is unheard of, but then a discussion of the Gurabad’s Ruin shifts to King Deshret and the Goddess of Flowers. 

“If the Goddess of Flowers had been alive after the ritual, what do you think she would do back then?” one of them mused. 

“Who knows? We are not even sure if she reciprocated his affection towards her,” replied the other. 

At the mention of the Goddess of Flowers, Kaveh’s previous thought-filled mind turned into a blank canvas, which then turned into an image, and then another, and so on that Kaveh realized it was a visualization  Of a man, he was facing forward, all he could see was his broad back ─ he didn't look familiar, but the figure sent a nostalgic sentiment through his entire being as if he had been there, behind him. 

And that’s when Kaveh came back to his senses, his juniors joked about how the senior was capable of saying such a thing all the while entranced in his own daydream. 

“What makes you think so, Senior?” When Kaveh asked what they meant, they said, “What makes you think that the Goddess of Flower would have stayed by his side regardless of everything?” 

Despite the confusion and surprise, the only sound that escaped his lips was a short laugh, “Don’t take it too seriously. I just thought it’s fitting for her because she truly sympathize with him, after all.” 

Kaveh didn’t utter a single word throughout their journey until they parted ways. 

He thought nothing of it, however odd it may be because words tend to slip out of his mouth at times ─ and to add to that, it was scorching hot outside, mayhaps Kaveh felt a little out of it due to the heat. With that little self-reassurance in mind, he continued his expedition safely, and he came back home with a sated curiosity. 

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There seems to be something triggering his recurring visions, the vague images that would infiltrate his mind appear in a heap, disorganized almost. It has been pestering him to the point he couldn’t even get any work done due to how bizarre the experience was. And Kaveh, being the selfless man he is, doesn't disclose this to anyone for fear of causing unnecessary trouble. 

Just earlier this morning, Kaveh found himself dazed in the middle of a lovely conversation with his roommate ─ they weren’t particularly talking about anything serious, though mundane thing such as cleaning up after a meal perhaps is just as serious for the two men living together. 

Alhaitham was saying something, he watched his lips part, but he couldn’t exactly comprehend what it was Alhaitham said, his voice faded, and then everything was silent. Everything was soundless, and the Scribe who sat across him met his gaze, as fiercely as ever. At the time, he felt as if time had stopped until he saw Alhaitham once again part his lips. 

“Malikata,” 

Kaveh felt a pang in his chest, and he grimaced. Everything was back to normal, the chirping birds, the droplets of water from the sink, he could hear everything again. 

“Kaveh,” he disregarded the slight hint of concern in his roommate’s voice, suddenly everything felt so overwhelming he couldn't breathe. “Are you alright?” 

No, I’m not. 

“Yeah,” he rasped, shaking his head lightly and waving his hand dismissively. “I’m good. You go, I’ll take care of the dishes.” 

The Scribe did not immediately comply, he took a hot minute to scrutinize his mien before he got up from his seat eventually. “Fine. Go get yourself a glass of water and clean up after yourself. You reek of alcohol.” 

He rolled his eyes, he wasn’t particularly inclined to respond to that. Kaveh grabbed his spoon and pretended he was going back to his meal as Alhaitham left the room. Once he did, the architect lets out a sigh. 

Right. I’m just hungover, that’s all. 

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Kaveh spends his entire afternoon outside. Ever since the vision he got this morning, it felt slightly unnerving to stay home all by himself. It reminded him of how empty he felt inside when his Mother moved out, how cold the place he used to call home had been without her presence, leaving remnants of her existence there. Kaveh couldn’t deal with it, so he left. Fortunately, he did have a meeting with a client — well, a potential client — at Puspa Cafe, so he was more than delighted to go out. Although the meeting did not go well, the result was good enough for him to make a settlement with his client. 

As the sky starts to darken, Kaveh wanders through Treasures Street, he was contemplating whether or not he should be taking a detour to Lambad’s. The thought of spending his evening at the tavern drowning himself in the fleeting bliss is tempting. However, he digresses — reminding himself that he should probably start to work on his newest project. The faster he works, the faster he’d get paid. 

Alhaitham should be home by now, too. Perhaps if Kaveh comes home and immediately works on his project, the reserved Alhaitham would be as kind as to offer him some dinner. It’s plausible, the Scribe does that sometimes, knocking on his door at night to tell him that there’s some food available for him to eat. It’s not often, but it each time Alhaitham does that, Kaveh couldn’t help but feel warmth spreading through his chest. He doesn’t feel that often nowadays, not after their fall out, even after all the things the junior had done to help him out. 

A sigh tumbled from his lips at the thought of his roommate. Kaveh stops in his trek at some point, his crimson orbs landing upon a certain object on the ground ─ a flower that blooms only at a certain spot, a token of remembrance of a certain Goddess if you will. Kaveh finds the flower as quaint as others would, but he didn’t pay any mind to it whenever he passed by these paradisiac flowers. 

Once again, a sudden surge of emotions churned inside of him. 

How strange. Absurd. These flowers are just … flowers, why does he even feel so emotional over it? 

“How long are you going to stare at it?” 

Kaveh jumps slightly, taken aback by the sudden voice of his roommate coming from behind him. The inscrutable longing he felt replaced with indignation. 

“You sure love to be present whenever I have my guard down,” he huffs, Mehrak beeping next to him as if to regard his roommate. “Mehrak! Why didn’t you say something?” 

“You sure love to condemn your own fault to others,” Alhaitham crosses his arms, unimpressed. 

“You─! Mehrak is supposed to give me a signal if there’s someone sneaking up behind me!” 

“Why would I sneak up on you?” Despite the query, Alhaitham’s underlying amusement in the tone of his voice doesn’t go unnoticed by the architect. “You would’ve heard my footsteps if you hadn’t been so engrossed in staring at those Padisarahs.” 

Mehrak is beeping again. He just knows that Mehrak is responding to his roommate. 

Kaveh gives his briefcase a look and this time, instead of letting it hover, he grabs a hold of it and starts to walk away from the Scribe.

He has something about walking ahead of the other, simply because Alhaitham does it so often, leaving him behind just so that Kaveh would get frustrated and catch up to him. This time, he’s going to do just that.

It’s going to take more than just this to faze Alhaitham, but it feels good to have the Scribe catching up to him anyway. 

“I just thought that it’s unfortunate that the flowers are extinct,” says the architect as Alhaitham follows suit, now walking side by side with him. That man took a few steps to catch up, and he didn’t even rush to get to his side. “No matter how identical those are to the original, it’s just different.” 

Alhaitham hums in response, Kaveh couldn’t tell what the former's thoughts on this, if he even has any. And if he does, he thinks it’s better for Alhaitham to keep it to himself. 

“Sentimental as always, Senior,” he says, almost fondly ─ as if it’s something about Kaveh that he adores. But he threw the thought almost immediately, thinking that he mistook it for adoration when all that is there to it is a mere bemusement. “I would have considered enquiring about the sentimental value you have over Padisarah if I hadn’t a single clue of how susceptible you are.” 

“I think it won't be in your interest anyway, and it’s not like I have a personal premonition about them,” Kaveh glances at his junior, “What are you doing here? It’s unheard of for the Scribe to be clocking out later than usual.” 

“I was at the tavern,” 

“Oh? Rather early for you, I’d say.”

“Paying the bills you put on my tab.” 

The architect scowls, letting out an indignant ‘hmph’. 

“At least you don’t have to drag my ass back, huh?” 

The intense longing he felt earlier did not go away. If anything, it intensifies the moment he sees the face of his roommate. 

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Kaveh isn’t known to be someone who is often lost in his thoughts, not until his second year in the Akademiya. 

He’s a dreamer, sure, but he dreams about his ambitions. His ideals. His future. And perhaps he dwells too much on the past, or the things that he did that got him to this point. He laments, regretful, guilty. From his father’s abrupt passing, his mother’s departure to Fontaine with her new husband, meeting Alhaitham, and causing him such a great loss… 

Alhaitham? A great loss? 

The realization hits, and Kaveh is pulled back into reality. 

What was it exactly that caused Alhaitham immense pain and loss? Had he ever actually done something in the past that could possibly lead Alhaitham to mourn over something he lost? He knew Alhaitham lost his parents when he was still a child, followed by his Grandmother, but that was way before Kaveh even met him for the first time at the library. 

There’s another guilt tugging at his chest. 

What can’t he remember? Why can’t he remember? What is it about Alhaitham that Kaveh feels so strongly about? They are so intense, growing each and every day. And it’s nothing short of confusing because Kaveh knows his feelings towards his junior are changing, but he doesn’t exactly know what had transpired that led to it. 

He just knows that there’s something about Alhaitham that triggered all of these strange occurrences in him. The visions, the voices, the emotions… 

Kaveh falls asleep clutching onto his vision. 

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“It is not too late to return to her side,” 

A strangely familiar voice, followed by a delicate touch against his cheek, a graze of knuckles meeting his soft skin; a gesture so intimate that a man like him could only do to someone he cherishes the most. His eyes fluttered open, and a man with silver locks and golden eyes was gazing down at him. The man who had so tenderly caressed his cheek. 

His eyes were sharp, fitting for someone with ambition, someone fearless — someone who ruled. Yet those very eyes soften ever the slightest as once again caressed his cheek. 

He could see, he could feel everything, the touches, the gentle wind, but he couldn’t move his body, nor speak. He felt tongue-tied like the words were stuck in his throat, and now that he tried to move his body, he couldn’t as if it was being controlled by someone else. 

“Is it?” 

He heard a light sweet voice, lady-like — it doesn't belong to him, yet the voice came out of his mouth. And then he shifted in his seat, gazing up to the sky, hand on his chest… 

“Even if you say so, we have walked for hours on end. What would I tell her if I come back without you?” 

“Rukkhadevata understands,” 

There was nothing he could do but listen and watch the scene unfolds before him. That was when he realized, that this was not him. Kaveh could only guess, but the cog in his brain shuts down, he couldn’t digest anything at the moment — stuck having to watch what felt like a distant memory from a long, long time ago. 

“I have made up my mind, Al-Ahmar,” his dainty fingers reached for the hand on his cheek, “I have decided to assist you, and I do not wish to take my word back.” 

Al-Ahmar stayed quiet, perhaps rather contemplative. His mien reminded him of Alhaitham, they have a few striking similarities. The sharp eyes, the hair color, and Kaveh dare say Alhaitham would look very much like this man — Al-Ahmar, if his hair was longer. In fact, they would be quite identical save for the eyes. Just like Alhaitham, Al-Ahmar used a kohl that accentuate the eyes more than any other part of his countenance. 

A brief moment of silence ended with Al-Ahmar eventually taking hold of his hand. 

“Very well,” he said as he helped him get up from his seat, “I am grateful for your decision, Malikata. Let us proceed, then.” 

Kaveh froze in his spot as Al-Ahmar walked away from him, along with a woman by his side. She was beautiful, her long, golden hair reminded her of his mother’s. Her beauty was something Kaveh wouldn’t dare compare to anything in this world for how otherworldly it was, he believed he had never seen someone so divine in his entire life. 

As he watched them disappear from his line of sight, Kaveh once again felt the overwhelming emotions inside. His hand curled into a fist as he clutched onto his chest, it was painful, heavy, it was too much. 

Suddenly he was somewhere else, and just as before, Al-Ahmar and the woman were there. Kaveh watched as Al-Ahmar brought her to his embrace, calling out her name desperately. 

“Malikata…” 

He could only watch the man hold her lifeless figure, there were no tears, but the way Al-Ahmar seemed to be frozen in place as he held her body was devastating. 

Kaveh then felt a presence next to him, and when he turned his body around, he was met with Nabu Malikata’s empty gaze. 

“You understand now, don't you?” 

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He wakes up with sweat trickling all over his face, chest heaving from the intense dream ─ now that the people of Sumeru can dream again, Kaveh didn’t expect to be having a revelation through his dream. 

He remembers now. He remembers everything. That is not to say he could grasp everything all at once, however ─ it is too much, there is only so much Kaveh could digest at a time. 

Kaveh is trying to catch his breath, and his entire body is trembling from shock. 

“ You understand now, don’t you ?” 

Her words are ringing through his ears, and the more he hears it, the more he’s convinced that the voice was his. 

So he gets up slowly, making his way toward the vacant bathroom. The smell of Alhaitham’s shampoo is still strong, a sign that Alhaitham was using it very recently. Kaveh looks at his own reflection in the mirror, examining his own visage, all the while remembering how Nabu Malikata had looked in his dream. 

His current appearance might just be an explicit copy of how it was back then, Nabu Malikata then and Kaveh now sure share a few similarities. The hair, the eyes, the lips, the jawline. They are sharper in comparison to how soft it was then. Though for a man, Kaveh has a more delicate figure, thus his visage would fit the description of beauty. 

Kaveh reaches a hand forward, stopping mid-motion, then he touches his own cheek ─ the exact same spot where King Deshret caressed him that day. The wave of feeling in his chest now isn’t as painful, it aches, but now that he knows why, it turns into sorrow instead. 

What would become of Kaveh, the Light of Kshahrewar that everyone comes to know? 

Kaveh lived his life for nearly thirty years as nothing but a scholar who is passionate in his work, as no one but himself. 

What is he supposed to do, having regained his memories ─ does anyone expect him to be the person he was before? Disregarding every hardship he went through? Disregarding the life he lived as Kaveh? 

As his mind reels, a rustling noise from the living room is heard, and he instantly knows it must be Alhaitham. 

Taking a deep breath, he takes a bath; unsure how he is going to face his junior now.

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“You don’t look well,” is Alhaitham’s foremost greeting as he walks past him to grab himself a cup of coffee. 

Kaveh almost wished Alhaitham would throw him a fit of his usual snarky remark in lieu of a concerned one. He thinks it would be easier for him to act irritated to mask his true feelings, so he does just that ─ rolling his eyes and scoffing in response. 

“Thanks, good morning to you too,” 

Normally, the Scribe is quite active when it comes to telling Kaveh everything he deems pertinent for the architect to hear even when Kaveh thinks it’s unnecessary. So when Alhaitham goes silent, he knows the man is picking up on something. Those eagle eyes never miss, do they? 

He’s a perceptive one, after all. Though mostly on the environment itself, he tends to be a tad lacking when it comes to emotions or social cues. At least that’s what Kaveh expected from the Scribe, based on the experience of being his best friend all those years ago and now, his roommate. 

“I heard a scream last night,” when Alhaitham speaks again, his voice is steady ─ yet for once it doesn’t lack the turmoil Kaveh thought he wasn’t capable of having. His voice alone clearly shows his worry, something Alhaitham doesn’t do often. “Are you alright?” 

And the display of emotion coming from the man so reserved and composed cracks his mask; because now all he could hear is Al-Ahmar desperately calling for him, cradling his face in his hands, only to accept the truth that Nabu Malikata had died in the process of assisting him. 

“Kaveh?” 

Kaveh finds himself trembling, but he tightens the grip he has on his cup of coffee, steadying his voice and removing any trace of uneasiness in his tone, “Sorry about that. I had a nightmare, that’s all.” 

Without waiting for Alhaitham’s response, Kaveh walks out of the room. 

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“Reincarnation, you say?” 

The architect watches as his friend works on a potion in his hut, some rangers had unfortunately, and foolishly, made direct contact with some plants that are known to be poisonous. Albeit he immediately averts his gaze once Tighnari looks up to him. 

“Well, I’ve heard some people claiming they have memories of who they were in their past life and such,” the ranger says, “Though I can’t validate the claim, since I don’t have much evidence on that.” 

“Huh… I guess you can’t say for sure unless you’ve experienced it by yourself, huh,” Kaveh hums in contemplation. “That being said, do you think it is possible for that to happen?” 

“It is possible,” when Tighnari finally puts his medicine down, he regards Kaveh with his full attention. “Why, do you have memories you don’t recognize as your own?” 

“Don’t we all? I mean, you could be imagining things and believe them to be memories supposedly from your past life for all I know.” 

Both Kaveh and Tighnari are quiet. Though it’s abundantly apparent that Tighnari was just giving Kaveh time to elaborate further, he knows that exact look on the Forest Ranger’s visage ─ the one that demands explanation and enlightenment, he’s seen it countless times already. 

“…I guess memories and imaginations are not that complicated to distinguish,” he adds after a short pause, crossing his arms over his chest. “But then again, I guess it’s not something impossible.” 

Tighnari lets out a hum, getting fully attentive to the man across from him. Kaveh may think that he appears to be unbothered, but like Alhaitham, Tighnari knows him well enough to notice his apprehension. 

“Is something bothering you?” He asks, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Hearing the worry in his friend’s voice, Kaveh feels guilty. He hates being the reason other people, especially his friends, worry. Just like how he hated making his Mother worry, he never showed her when he was troubled with something — obviously, this trait carries on to this day. Years later, Kaveh is still as adamant when it comes to reaching out for help, or even merely leaning on someone for emotional support. He thinks it’s burdensome, and deep down perhaps he thinks he doesn’t deserve his friends’ concern in some way. 

Right now, all he wanted to do was to pour his heart out, sharing his troubles and burden, but he’s overthinking everything again. Always the worst that comes into his mind, it could be that Kaveh is subconsciously preparing himself for it to protect his own feelings. It’s his own defense mechanism and he knows it’s not exactly healthy for his mental welfare. 

“It’s okay, I was just… I heard something about someone regaining some memories and even dreamt about their supposedly past lives, and it paint me curious.” Kaveh says, this time a little more relaxed than he was five minutes ago. “It got me thinking, once they know about who they were before… would they just, change? As in, do they dispose of their current self and continue to live as the person they were before, or… what?” 

The query seems to be the one that is weighing his friend’s mind, judging from how seriously Kaveh ponders. Tighnari wonders if it has anything to do with Kaveh personally, or if he was simply brooding over something because of the conflict it caused in him. Nevertheless, he knows Kaveh is easily moved by something such as this. He’s probably thinking of a way to solve a problem he shouldn’t even have in the first place. 

“If it were you, Tighnari, what would you do?” 

Tighnari half expects the question. If Kaveh is indeed troubled by something and he isn’t ready to tell him, he would ask about his opinion on it to give himself a better judgment on the choice he’s going to make. 

“If it were me, I wouldn’t change who I am now just because I remember my past life and who I was then,” he gives him a piece of his mind after a brief moment of pondering. “I don’t see the point of that, either. Who I was in my previous life shouldn’t determine who I am in this life. And just like you said, I probably would think it’s a mere imagination rather than a memory, to begin with.” 

Upon receiving his friend’s insight into the matter, Kaveh somehow feels relief. To be frank, the revelation he had about his previous life doesn’t exactly make him happy ─ if anything, it’s quite the opposite. To put it simply, Kaveh was having a mild identity crisis, and that scared him. 

“You’re right,” He mumbles, nodding in agreement. “You have a point. It shouldn’t determine who you are now. What happens in the past is in the past. It makes sense. Say, if I were a vicious criminal in my previous life, I wouldn’t want to be that person in this life. But even if I was something more than I am now, it’s not like I can just change myself and everything else because I wanted to be that person again.” 

The Forest Ranger offers him a smile, sanguine in a way that is reassuring. “Hmm, I doubt you were a ‘vicious criminal’ in your previous life. Somehow it’s difficult to even imagine that.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The architect wrinkles his nose, but couldn’t help the grin from adorning his features. “This reminds me of that one time I argued with Alhaitham─” 

Tighnari half-jokingly groans in frustration, “Archon, please, I don’t need any more information about you and your infuriating roommate. Save this for another time!” 

“─And we were talking about evolving into a fungus… Wait, what did you say? A-Alhaitham is not my roommate!” 

“Kaveh, it’s useless. You’ve spilled too much every time we have a night out at the tavern.” 

Kaveh looks at him in shock that soon shifts into panic, and Tighnari understands why Alhaitham would (subconsciously or not) try to rile him up. When it comes to a reaction, Kaveh is by far the best at it. It is certainly amusing to watch how fast Kaveh’s emotions changed. 

“It’s okay, it’s not like I’ll tell everyone about it,” he reassures him. “I promise your secret’s safe with me.” 

The architect seems to be hopeful, “Really? You mean that?” 

“As long as you don’t forget to take care of yourself,” more often than not, Tighnari would have to remind Kaveh of that ─ since the latter tends to put his own needs last before others’. And while he knows Alhaitham is not all that negligent of his senior, the Scribe doesn’t go out of his way to say it directly. Knowing Alhaitham, the man would probably prefer to convey it through his actions that Kaveh would most likely fail to comprehend. It’s happened before and to be fair, it has happened enough to the point that Tighnari would feel ticked off every time it happens. 

“I am taking care of myself,” Kaveh says, “As much as I can, anyway. Sometimes sleep is mandatory to sacrifice, you know inspirations struck mostly at night.” 

“I know, just wanted to remind you.” 

Kaveh thinks he doesn’t deserve his friend’s worry. But he knows he’s happy to know that his friends do care about him. 

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“Kaveh, what about you?” 

“Hm? What is it about me?” 

“About the group project, have you considered joining us?” 

His friends looked at him almost expectantly, and Kaveh scratched his cheek nervously as he answered, “Oh, about that… Sorry, I think I’m not going to join your group.” 

The crestfallen look on their faces was hard to look at, but Kaveh had made up his mind. 

“I see,” one of them said, “Seems like you’ve gotten quite close with that Haravatat junior, huh?” 

“Well, we’re friends now,” he declared triumphantly as if it’s an achievement in itself to be considered a friend by the aforementioned Haravatat junior. “But that’s not it, I actually am interested in the theme of the project itself.” 

“Leave it to you to hit it off with even a guy like him,” 

“True, seems like you get along with just anybody,” 

Kaveh chuckled involuntarily, “You guys just need to be patient and try to be a little more understanding. He’s actually a cute junior, you know.”

Half of his friends didn’t seem to have the same idea, however. They know how difficult it was to interact with the junior, let alone team up with him. Most of them couldn’t really stand being at the same table for a discussion with him, so they usually left Kaveh when he approached the silver-haired junior. 

Or, when the said junior appeared out of nowhere in their line of vision, standing around the bookshelf in the corner as if waiting for them to leave Kaveh alone. 

“Well, anyway, good luck, Kaveh.” 

“Yeah, thanks! You too!” 

As Kaveh bid them goodbye, the junior finally walked up to him, a couple of books in his person, “Senior.” 

“Well, who’s late now?” He crossed his arms over his chest, letting out a playful huff. 

Alhaitham grunted, “No one is late. You just arrive a little early to make it seem like I’m late.” 

“Nonsense. I’m a good senior, of course, I have to show you the right way to do things!” 

“Whatever,” the younger sighed, barely getting used to the senior’s antics. “Let’s go, then.” 

Kaveh was glued to his junior’s side, or maybe it was the other way around because no matter how pesky his senior tends to be, Alhaitham just can’t find it in himself to stop talking to him altogether. He tried, yet Kaveh was relentless to keep approaching him. He later found out that Kaveh wasn’t all that bad, he was capable of holding a conversation and a good academic debate; someone who wasn’t afraid to offer him a new perspective. 

They sat on the vacant table nearby, purposely avoiding the one that was surrounded by other scholars around them, because Kaveh alone was enough noise to Alhaitham’s preferences. On top of that, there will be two other students to join them. 

As they waited for the other two, Kaveh who sat across from him kept staring at him. Perhaps he thought Alhaitham wouldn’t notice since he was currently nose-deep into the book he brought, but Kaveh didn’t even try to be subtle about it anyway. 

“What?” 

Kaveh blinked, his gaze still locked upon his figure. “Nothing. Your face just feels so familiar. I have probably seen you around the city before. I don’t remember much, though.” 

He didn’t think much of it back then, but now, he realized how strange it was. When he first saw Alhaitham, there was something that tugged at his chest ─ a sense of familiarity. However, during that period of time, Kaveh truly didn’t pay the visions he had any mind, he kept brushing them off, thinking he was probably just excited to be friends with a junior from Haravatat. 

But Alhaitham was unlike any other kid. Even around the Akademiya, it’s not common to find a scholar who gives off the same aura as him. To say that he felt familiar even when he’s never met anyone who remotely looked anything like him… And now, regaining the distant memories from the past — 

King Deshret comes into his mind. 

He’s still unsure of his own feelings about the fact that he’s the reincarnation of The Goddess of Flowers herself. But Kaveh knows deep down it is the case, it is the truth. He was Nabu Malikata, and even now, there is Nabu Malikata within him. It is a hard pill to swallow because in his visions — or dreams — he was never alone. In most cases, he will be seeing things from Nabu Malikata’s perspective, hence the man whom he referred to as Al-Ahmar, or simply King Deshret if you will, was always in his visions. Although the first time Kaveh saw his whole figure was the other night when he had the revelation, he’s always used to seeing his silver locks and muscular back, or chest. He pondered about how his face would look like at some point, and jokingly thought of Alhaitham when he thinks about someone with a similar build as the Scarlet King. 

He wouldn’t have expected that thought to be true. 

At least if that dream is accurate, which he knows it is, then Alhaitham is the perfect copy of King Deshret from all those centuries ago. 

“It can’t be,” he hears himself whisper under his breath, shaking his head at the thought. “He can’t be…” 

But what if he is?  

Somewhere deep down, he wants it to be true — a rather selfish wish for someone who left without so much of saying goodbye, or to be exact, properly requite Deshret's profoundly deep affection towards him back then; knowing exactly how the King would have reacted to his beloved’s death, thus taking advantages of it in order to preserve his legacy. 

Perhaps this is a way to atone for his sins. 

To be revitalized and reunited with Al-Ahmar in a way, to be reminded of the pain he had caused. If this is the fate that is bestowed upon him, then so be it. 

I deserve this. 

Perhaps it is for the best to leave Alhaitham in the dark, then it would be easier for both of them. 

Nabu Malikata did not have the capacity to reciprocate Al-Ahmar’s feelings back then, but Kaveh does. He does now, and mayhap he was already in love with his junior for a while — while it was something important to him that his feelings were to be reciprocated, it doesn’t matter now. 

Whether or not Alhaitham feels the same way, doesn’t matter. Kaveh will love him all the same, just like how Al-Ahmar loved him back then. 

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Kaveh had successfully regained his composure when Alhaitham came home, no traces of his predicament evident on both his features and voice. He greeted Alhaitham with only a brief glance as he tied his hair up in a slightly messy bun as he marched toward the kitchen. This means that Kaveh will be the one to make dinner tonight. 

The Scribe decided that he won’t be interfering with the architect until he’s done, so he makes himself comfortable sitting leisurely on the divan in the living room, continuing to read his book accompanied by the sizzling noises from the kitchen, and the thought of Kaveh from the other night. He would admit that the sound of his pained scream was probably something he wouldn’t be able to forget. His senior, despite having been through the miseries in his life, as emotionally fragile as he is, from the moment he had agreed to live with him ─ he never once heard Kaveh screaming in his sleep. He does make unintelligible noises at times when he’s deep in his work, but never a scream. 

So when he heard it last night, he was, for the lack of better words, horrified. 

It’s difficult to say he feels indifferent about his senior. The truth is, he does care. Despite everything that’s happened between them, he still considers Kaveh as one of the few people who he genuinely thinks of as a friend. 

While he’s always been aware of his senior’s mental state, perhaps he should have been more considerate of his feelings. Especially since he noticed how strange Kaveh has been acting lately. 

“Hey,” 

Alhaitham looks up from the book, realizing he had been stuck on the same paragraph as he does so, his gaze then lands upon the senior’s figure ─ still with the messy bun and an apron. 

“Dinner’s ready,” he says, chewing on his lower lip for a second before he adds, “If you’re keen to join me.” 

He doesn’t immediately respond, though he knows he will be joining him. However, with the way Kaveh invited him, then it is most probable that Kaveh is aware of their awkward exchanges lately. If not, he wouldn’t be so much as to wait for him to answer in front of him. He would have called for him from the kitchen as he usually does. 

“Sure,”

Upon hearing the Scribe's response, Kaveh nods affirmatively ─ and rather nervously at that ─ and he then strides back into the kitchen. 

Well, regaining one’s composure was attainable. But acting is not exactly something Kaveh is good at, so when he does, it would be so obvious ─ no matter how natural he tried to carry himself. 

He unties the apron and takes it off of him, placing it neatly on the back of his chair while making a mental note to bring it to the laundry later. After washing his hands, he sits down. Alhaitham joins him after a few minutes, still clad in his Scribe outfit save for the cape. 

Seeing how Alhaitham still acts like his usual self, Kaveh feels a wave of reassurance. 

“Are you alright?” And then he hears him ask, his mask would have cracked if not for the deadpan look on the junior’s face. “Did you break something while I was gone?” 

“How rude! You would’ve known if I did!” 

“True,” 

He narrowed his gaze upon noticing the almost invisible smirk adorning his visage.

“Then what’s with this dinner all of a sudden?” 

For Kaveh to make a dish he likes, specifically in the way he likes it to be when they both know Kaveh likes anything soup ─ it’s only natural that Alhaitham thinks his senior might be up to something. 

The huff and crossed arms are expected, and Alhaitham lets his gaze fixed upon Kaveh. 

“Well… You can consider it as my apology,” 

“Apology?” He raises a brow, intrigued. “So you did break something?” 

“That’s not it! I’m saying that I want to apologize for waking you up last night!” 

They both fall silent, and it’s unnerving for the blonde to say the least.

When Alhaitham opens his mouth again, Kaveh didn’t expect how quiet his voice would be, “Because you screamed?” 

“Yeah… I thought─” At this point, Kaveh tries to escape the scrutinizing gaze of his roommate. “─I thought it must’ve been disturbing. To hear that in the middle of the night. And probably alarming too, I suppose. So…” 

If there are any other reasons, Alhaitham knows Kaveh left them unsaid. Whatever it is, he is not going to ask. In lieu of a query, Alhaitham sighs. 

“You don’t have to apologize for something you can’t control,” he finds it uncharacteristically soft for Alhaitham. Even someone like him could lose his composure every once in a while, he supposes. And he doesn’t know how to feel about it. “I didn’t mean to come off as if it annoyed me.” 

“...Okay.” 

Kaveh wishes Alhaitham would not continue acting this way. It’s not like he deserves it even in this life. 

Alhaitham nods silently as he digs into his meal. Perhaps he himself left some things unsaid. 

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The sun rises, the birds are chirping, and warmth seeps into the room from the windows, the sun rays hitting the sleeping face of the Akademiya’s Scribe gently; effectively stirring the silver-haired man out of the realm of his unconsciousness. 

Something is weighing on his chest, he blinks upon seeing the book he was reading last night placed there. 

Alhaitham lifts the book and placed it on the nightstand. 

The book doesn’t weigh that much, however. There is something else that causes his chest to tighten. 

“Who would have thought…” he murmurs, taking a deep breath. “Malikata…”