Chapter Text
“It’s not your fault.”
The room was dull. Soft pants filling the room as tears rolled down the young boy’s face. It’s not your fault. He smeared the paints over the paper, his body limp save for the crooked paper that held the only shred of color in his life.
Pale garnet eyes grew more glassy, blond strands messily splayed over the floor. “I’m sorry,” He croaked, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His thumbs were bright crimson now, his brush slamming against the ground in a burning cry of despair.
Everything ached.
The same phrase continued in his head over and over, and yet Kaveh knew his mother meant otherwise. How she locked him in his room and waited for his screams to silence, finally visiting whenever they both were mentally stable.
Kaveh could never hear the end of that phrase, her soft apologies filling his ears.
So that’s when he finally decided to make it up to her. He studied.
Countless nights he would study, praying for the best of grades to make it into the Akademiya. Every stroke of the brush, every hour that ticked by, it grew heavier and heavier in his mind. His golden strands falling messily over his face and hiding his weary eyes framed by dark bags.
The sweet scent of his mother’s perfume filled his nose as she set samosas down beside him. This was the only contact they would ever keep. Kaveh reached for the samosa, his fingernails were broken and recently chewed, yet he bandaged them securely out of shame.
Kaveh bit into it, chewing the dish quietly as he lowered his head down a little further. He scarcely had anything to look forward to anymore, though his slender fingers traced a letter recently mailed to his house.
“Kaveh, I met someone in Fontaine. I think you should get a taste of the sort of people there-- I prepared a pen pal for you.”
He didn’t want one.
Kaveh reached for the side of his desk, grabbing a pen and sloppily tearing the envelope open.
Dearest Sumeru Citizen,
My father wishes I practice other languages. I don’t know Sumeru dialect very well, but help would be good. My name is Rosula. Not actually, but my alias.
I like tea, I like talking about cooking. If you ever want to talk about that, I would love to.
Chaleureusement,
Rosula.
Kaveh furrowed his brow, sliding the letter across the desk and falling backwards against the chair with a long sigh. Garnet eyes flickering to the window as he faced himself-- disheveled. He didn’t like that look on himself. Kaveh urged himself up, the words of the letter running in his mind with every step towards the bathroom.
He didn’t feel like replying, and yet he thought long and hard about what to reply with. Her vocabulary was weak, sentence structure was sloppy, and yet he would be her practice. One good deed to ease his mind? Kaveh pushed his hair back, hot water rolling down his skin as mist rose.
Fontaine was beautiful. He knew that from books and photos from interesting contraptions they made-- they were steps in the future that Kaveh wouldn’t exactly find himself contributing to. Kaveh lathered shampoo in his hair, humming quietly to himself.
Trying to get into the Akedemiya was grueling enough, but he couldn’t really complain, could he? Others had it worse.
Kaveh rubbed his cheek against his palm, a soft sigh pushing past his lips before finally fumbling for a towel. Freshly cleaned. It has been a while since his father’s passing, and Kaveh knew his mother couldn’t handle the house on her own. So he began managing chores and studying so much that he forgot to take care of himself sometimes.
The occasional gesture of meals were often forgotten by her, she was always so invested in other things rather than home or even him. She never told him what “things” they were, though.
Kaveh began pulling on newly washed clothing, tapping his cheek with a sigh, “I suppose replying a few times won’t be so bad.”
And so he did.
His pen dragged along the paper, making sure to write neatly without a single smear,
Rosula,
Your gesture is appreciated. I’ll be sure to talk about cooking with you sometime. I’m-- Should he use his real name? No. An alias will do.
Kaveh kicked back with a groan, thinking hard enough that his mind ached,
I’m Paradisaea.
Oh god that felt cheesy.
Kaveh reached for an envelope as the ink dried, peeling away the layer containing the envelope itself. He delicately folded the letter, pushing it into the envelope.
“That’ll do,” He chimed to himself, placing a seal down unto the folds.
Kaveh didn’t have much to look forward to throughout his days. Only the points where he would be at school, chatting with a young student that clearly lacked the respect one needed towards their upperclassmen-- but he didn’t mind. A friend was what he needed, anyway.
Every afternoon, he would swipe up a newly delivered envelope, recognizing the familiar perfume and hiding it carefully in his bag while passing his mother.
She was at her lowest. Kaveh could tell. Long blonde locks sliding down from her shoulders as she let out a defeated sigh, “Kaveh,” She rasped, “Can you get me a glass of water before you write back to her?”
His mother was once the most beautiful woman in Sumeru, even now she still may be in his eyes-- but he could feel the way her old self was peeling away every minute with the death of his father. Kaveh stepped into the kitchen that connected to the living room she rested in.
The smooth surface of the glass cups were familiar to him now. Every time after school, he sought to complete everything his mother couldn’t do.
“What do you want for dinner?” Kaveh called as the sound of the faucet running echoed in the home.
His mother thought for a moment, pale crimson eyes flickering between the table and pillows surrounding her form, “Tandoori roast chicken would be fine. I’ll make padisarah tea to help.”
Kaveh’s features softened, stopping in his tracks before his mother and holding out the glass. Condensation rolled down the sides, ice cubes clinking together, “That’s fine. I can take care of both. I want you to get some rest.” His mother nodded promptly, accepting the cup with a hum of thanks.
He felt bad for her. Kaveh turned his heel towards the door, “I’ll get dinner done in a bit. Let me sort out my mail.”
Sorting out mail in his room always took what felt like forever. Scams, suspiciously written ones personalized to him… as scams, and finally, Rosula.
Rosula’s letters always smelled the same. A briar of freshly watered roses and Fontaine. That’s what he was told Fontaine smelled like. Kaveh started doing the same, his envelopes reminding him of an eatery in Sumeru.
My dearest Paradisaea,
My father had recently begun teaching me how to manage our status and company-- I cannot wait to display my knowledge to you. The Sumeru language is growing more natural to me. I’m happy.
Lately Fontaine has been having more court sessions. It rains almost every day. I hope things get better.
Bien amicalement,
Rosula.
Kaveh trailed his finger over the signature, it’s elegance growing by the day. He didn’t mind that, telling himself he was watching her grow into a refined lady worthy of leading. Kaveh reached for his pen, sighing quietly,
Rosula,
It seems trouble has sparked in Fontaine more than usual. I hope things eventually smooth over, the frequent rains will likely become a problem.
Sumeru has advanced in technology once more, and to grow closer to Rukkhadevata, we made Akasha Terminals. The city of wisdom only grows more knowledgeable, and I pray the city of Justice grows safer with those trials.
I’ll be eager to hear from you next,
Paradisaea.
Kaveh brushed blond strands behind his ear, smiling slightly to himself. A friend worthy of his attention, he supposed. To think their friendship has lasted for so long-- it felt like days.
In reality, he was a young teenager when it began. Now, he approaches the senior year at the Akademiya at an accelerating rate.
Kaveh didn’t mind it. How his life was now, that is. He stood up, folding his letter with a pep in his step and pressing a stamp over the folds.
“Things will get better from here,” Kaveh chimed to himself, waving the letter slightly with a cocky grin. Garnet eyes flickered over to his window, dusk lights slowly disappearing behind the horizon. He should get going now. Kaveh skipped into the living room, passing his mother who slept peacefully. His favorite part of the day would be when he walks down the street, diligently placing it into the mailbox that would eventually send out the letter.
Kaveh shut the wooden door for the mailbox, walking back towards his doorway.
“Kaveh.”
A familiar boyish voice interrupted his thoughts, the short (and equally shortsighted) lower classmen standing a few paces from him.
“Alhaitham.. I thought we would regard each other respectfully,” He teased with a quiet sigh.
Alhaitham averted his gaze, lips curling into a frown, “Can I join you for dinner?”
Kaveh rest his hands on his hips, “Again? Am I too bold to assume you love my cooking?” He waved his hand in front of him with a long sigh, “Sure. Company would be nice, maybe it will bring my mother’s mood up.” He turned his heel once more, unlocking his house door and holding it open for Alhaitham to enter.
Alhaitham was one of those friends that brought him joy. Recalling their interactions fondly. Kaveh shut the door behind him, “Hey,” He called out, approaching his mother who slowly opened her crimson eyes, “I brought Alhaitham over. I hope you don’t mind.”
His mother shrugged off her blanket, blinking groggily with a yawn, “Sure. Dinner?”
“I’ll get started now.”
Kaveh always took this as an opportunity to teach, and Alhaitham was always eager (somewhat) to learn. Carefully cutting vegetables and showing his lower classmen the ropes of cooking, even if Kaveh was clumsy sometimes.
Albeit, he never really tried to be. As he lowered the knife down on a carrot, a soft stinging sensation came from his thumb. Warmth from the overall pain bloomed as his breath hitched, Kaveh’s gaze immediately held to the small cut. “Ah.”
It wasn’t bad. He didn’t think so until Alhaitham grabbed Kaveh’s wrist, examining it closely, “Be careful.” Kaveh tilted his head with his features softened, nonetheless accepting the scorn.
“I will..”
Alhaitham reached for a bandage, carefully wrapping it over Kaveh’s thumb and tightening it well enough to stop any bleeding. His hands were warm on Kaveh’s, soft from the lack of hard work and yet he could see a few bandages from his own paper cuts.
“You’ll become a handsome guy in the future, I can feel it,” Kaveh teased lightly, earning a snort of disapproval from Alhaitham.
Alhaitham frowned deeply, “I don’t care as long as I can live comfortably.”
“I’m jealous of you. You always seem to be the top of everything-- how do you do it?”
“I read,” Alhaitham shrugged dismissively, “I like to read, anyway. It’s nice.”
Kaveh enjoyed that part of his friend. The passions that Alhaitham had were admirable to see, even if they didn’t share it. He dipped his head slightly, pressing his forehead against Alhaitham’s. It was warm. “You’re going to live an insanely comfortable life. Handsome, smart, and well educated. The top things everyone likes in a man.”
Alhaitham paused, “What.. What’s your type?”
“Oh! Tall, muscular build, and super cool.” Kaveh noticed how Alhaitham’s frown only deepened, and Kaveh figured it was because he personally attacked the poor lower classmen over the fact that Alhaitham was short, scrawny, and super uncool. Kind of uncool.
Kaveh giggled to himself, turning back to the vegetables, “You get started on the rice. I’m sure she’s hungry.”
-----
Rosula hadn’t sent him a letter in a year. He could see the distant dark clouds hanging over Fontaine, and it was worrying to him.
Kaveh brought his legs to his chest, gaze trailing down from the rooftop he sat on. His mother used to always cry, “It’s dangerous, Kav! Don’t stay up there!” But that was only a memory now.
His mother left too.
Kaveh crossed his arms over his arms, tears welling up in his eyes as the pain grew more unbearable. “It’s not fair,” He hissed between hot tears rolling down his cheeks, his breath shuddering.
He missed them both. Kaveh buried his face deeper into his hands, soft sobs filling the silent street. He was going to lose the house soon, his bankruptcy growing more apparent day by day. Kaveh was back at square one.
“Kaveh.”
Kaveh tensed. His breath caught in his throat through tears, “Alhaitham…” He rasped, “Go away. You’re supposed to be at the Akademiya, aren’t you?”
Alhaitham slowly began towards Kaveh, sitting down beside him. In such a short time, he seemed to hit puberty. He was tall. Muscular arm hesitating to wrap around Kaveh and seemingly choosing to keep to himself.
“I said go away,” Kaveh hissed, turning his head. He didn’t want Alhaitham to see how unbearably pitiful Kaveh seemed. Garnet eyes glassy through painful tears that never seemed to stop. No matter how many times he rubbed at them.
“I don’t want to.”
Kaveh’s head snapped to face Alhaitham, his voice raised and venomous, “Shut up! You wouldn’t understand-- you never SEEM to understand. My father died and as soon as I thought things were getting better my mother left me. I’m alone, Alhaitham. I’m tragically fucking pitiful and I’m even going to lose my house. I don’t remember the last time I had something other than curry and rice. I don’t remember the last time I had a full night of sleep. To top it all off, some of us aren’t blessed with great things. I’m going to end up failing my course purely because all of this--”
Kaveh paused, bile collecting at the back of his throat as he inhaled shakily, his tears growing heavier, “I’m bankrupt. I’m alone. I have nobody,” His voice cracked, shaking almost uncontrollably.
Alhaitham was silent. His lips pursed in a thin line. He hated that expression, emerald eyes flickering between Kaveh’s and the side.
“You don’t understand how hard it is, Alhaitham,” Kaveh spat, “You never will. You understand everything but the values of my life.”
Alhaitham reached for Kaveh’s hand, his mouth opening before shutting. Acting as though he was just burned.
“I hate that this… this is the most emotion I’ve seen from you, and it isn’t even an attempt at comfort.” Kaveh could see the way thoughts raced through the latter’s mind, his mouth changing into different words that failed to pass his lips.
“I’m sorry, Kaveh,” Alhaitham’s voice was soft, “I’m so, so sorry. I’m..”
“Just stop. Please.”
“No. No I.. I’ve never been good at conveying anything. I’ve always been good with academic essays, reading, anything but how you feel now. I am.. So sorry for not being there.” Alhaitham grasped Kaveh’s hands in his tightly. Alhaitham could feel the way they were rough from hard work, and that’s what he loved about Kaveh the most.
“You work so hard,” He murmured, bringing Kaveh’s knuckles to his lips, “You never fail to try and provide support to others. Even putting them before you.. Despite the chance of you getting hurt. I’m proud of you.”
Alhaitham hated the way Kaveh’s breath shuddered, how he could feel the other leaning away from him as though conflicted. “I know we’ve been fighting lately, but…”
“But what, Alhaitham?!” Garnet eyes burned into Alhaitham’s, “You’ve done nothing but make it a point to make my life miserable. Suddenly you’re an amazing person? You have to be shitting me.”
He looked away from Kaveh for a moment, taking a deep breath, “I don’t hate you. I never…”
“Stop. It.” Kaveh tore his grasp from Alhaitham’s. “This isn’t about you. It never has been. Stop.”
The pair shared a heavy silence, the muddled sky began to weep for the friendship ripping apart before it’s eyes. The moon hidden behind the cloud as though wishing to not witness any more heartbreak. Alhaitham looked down, “Let me take care of you,” His voice seemed to die in the middle of his sentence, “I want to make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me by leaving me, too. It’s not that hard-- hell, you almost did!” Kaveh pressed his finger to Alhaitham’s chest, hitting it lightly, “You have no remorse, do you? You’re only thinking about yourself and your talented rich boy problems.”
Alhaitham winced lightly, another moment of weakness flashing before Kaveh. But he could only see red. “Kaveh…”
“Don’t say my name. I don’t like hearing it from your mouth.”
Kaveh stood up, shaking off Alhaitham’s attempts to grab him as he stepped down the ladder. The rain only seemed to worsen in that instance, droplets bouncing off of leaves as Alhaitham sat there. Drenched. Cold. But he stayed.
Kaveh knew as much. As he would stare out the window, watching the ladder in anticipation for Alhaitham to take cover at some point. Fuck. He rubbed the towel in his hair, tears pricking in his eyes. He shouldn’t have said that. Kaveh could feel regret and guilt form in his chest, but he didn’t know what to do. It was nearly midnight now, the rain grew worse, and yet he could tell Alhaitham was diligent.
He always was.