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It started two months ago.
The wanderer started having dreams every night. It was strange for him, because even though he had the habit of sleeping, he had never once experienced a dream. As far as he understood, dreams were a privilege only humans had. The wanderer would have been delighted, if not for the unearthing contents of his dreams.
No, he did not dream about flying cabbages and talking slimes. On the contrary, his dreams were frighteningly real. He could distinctly feel the low humming vibrations of machinery and the disgusting feeling of remnant god fluid leaking from the tubes in his back.
This scene was familiar, but only as a memory. The current wanderer had never experienced being in the Shouki no kami in person, instead he only possessed memories of Scaramouche -- his former self, being in it.
Back when he first regained his past life’s memory, he had fully accepted Scaramouche as a part of himself. But now here he is, sitting in Scaramouche's throne. It was quite surreal to actually be Scaramouche, and not just watch the memory of his life. He could feel a strong mixture of emotions in his bones. Of hatred, betrayal, and bloodlust.
--And all of it was directed to one, single person.
The traveler.
Wanderer’s eyes widened when he met Aether's through the red tint of Shouki no Kami’s glass eye. He could feel the creaks and heavy vibrations as his mechanical arm moved to strike the blonde boy
“No! Stop it!”
The Wanderer groaned, trying to will his arms to stop, but this body was not his, it belonged to Scaramouche, and the balladeer wanted Aether dead.
He watched helplessly as the battle stretched for several minutes. Feeling his heart soar in contrast to Scaramouche’s annoyance whenever the traveler managed to dodge his attack.
But one misstep is all it took for Aether to dodge a second too late, and his body met with 20 tones of solid metal.
Scaramouche broke into maniacal laughter as he hears the flesh and bones crunch under his palm. The sounds, the smell. It all felt so real.
And when the palm is lifted for Scaramouche to revel at his artwork, the wanderer felt his stomach turn.
He gasped, and he could no longer feel the menacing hum of machinery. With his sharp inhale, he smelt soothing sandalwood incense instead of the stinging odor of metal and blood. He sat upright, sheets clenched underneath his iron grip. His palms sticky with sweat.
He realized that this is his room, and everything was just a dream.
“Shit….”
The wanderer cupped his face and tried to regulate his breathing. His mind was still trying to process the raw emotion he had just felt.
“ Was that a dream?”
He told nobody. It was just a dream after all. Nothing but a relapse in his old memories. Surely, it won't happen again.
Except it did, night after night after night.
The second time the wanderer opened his eyes to find himself back in the machine, he panicked, this time causing the machine to respond in sound.
One of its many arms slammed into the ground a far ways off from the traveler, making Aether look in his direction in confusion before leaping into battle.
The wanderer had thought he would have more control over the dream this time, but the ending was still the same. Aether had gotten a leg trapped under debris, and his upper half was blasted into dust by a surge of pyro.
On the 10th day, Aether was distracted by a feint and his head was bashed in.
On the 25th day, Aether was thrown into a wall and splattered into a million pieces.
On the 39th day, Aether was impaled on particularly sharp debris.
On the 40th day, Aether is killed by Shouki no Kami’s Shoumetsu comet.
On the 64th day, Aether was caught in his large hands, mocked, and crushed like a bug between his fingers.
Each day, Aether was getting closer, and closer to the Shouki no Kami. Yet each day, the outcome was more and more violent. The wanderer could focus on nothing but the blood on his hands and the feeling of emptiness upon the traveler’s demise.
The dreams are starting to affect the Wanderer. Even on nights when he decided not to sleep, he would still find himself blinking one moment and being back in the Shouki no Kami.
Some nights he would wake up, unsure if he was himself, or Scaramouche. The immense bloodlust and restless nights had begun to take a toll on him. And it was evident in his day to day interactions.
Nahida was starting to notice his foul mood. It was already foul on a normal day, but lately, it had gotten more violent. The Wanderer loved getting into trouble and throwing out witty, yet offensive remarks. But recently, he had begun destroying things in fits of anger.
Yesterday, the wanderer punched a scholar for not being able to find the book he needed for his thesis. Needless to say, he got into a lot of trouble for that. The dispute even got to the point where the Matra were involved.
His behavior is certainly raising concerns, so while the wanderer is placed under house arrest, Nahida decided to finally ask him what's wrong. However, the response she got was another violent retort.
“Shut up worm! Don't touch me!”
Nahida flinched back in surprise. A little part of her felt hurt and her emotions must have leaked up to her face because the wanderer immediately regretted what he said and fell into silence.
“Wanderer. You know you can speak to me if there's something wrong.”
Nahida tries again, but the wanderer already has a stubborn wall built around him.
“Just leave me alone.” Wanderer shuts the door on her face, unwilling to say anything else.
—--
Wanderer has never left his room since, and nobody was allowed in either. The wanderer did not need food or drink, but still. It was concerning.
His dreams persisted, sometimes getting so bad that he would experience more than one dream a day.
Day 80
Aether tries to reason with Scaramouche, tried to reach his cold, broken heart.
How dare he?
“Silence! You insignificant pest!”
Scaramouche’s voice rumbles. And it is filled with so much anger and vulnerability.
Aether is beheaded, his neck crushed by Shouki no Kami’s thumb.
Day 129
Aether has lost an arm, yet he still stands and pleads. How pathetic. How can he still keep going after so many deaths? Just disappear already.
Aether is crushed under Shouki no Kami’s foot.
Day 148
Aether is so close to his gnosis. His sword just inches away to stabbing through his chest.
Yet the blood loss has gotten to him, and his sword merely grazed Scaramouche's chest before clattering to the ground along with his limp body.
The wanderer could see it, the broken limbs and bloodied body parts scattered on the ground. Even in his room, its filled with blood blood blood.
Why does it torment me so? Why does the traveler come day after day, to punish me so? Why does he come to die by my hands?
“STOP! STOP IT! JUST SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!”
Wanderer grabs his desk with both hands and flings it towards his door. The poor wooden construct crashes and splinters at its edges. Tha glass on the door shatters and he could hear gasps outside his door.
“How long will this last? God dammit!”
He has never felt so vulnerable. His life was normal before this, even after regaining his memories, it didn't hurt like this. Why does it hurt so much to watch the traveler die? It’s not even real, it's just a stupid dream. So why does it feel so real?
“Fuck!”
He cursed as he grabbed any random object closest to him and threw it at the door again.
But this time, it did not shatter and cause a mess.
The plank; which Wanderer had ripped off of his shelf, was caught by someone and placed gently down on the floor.
He paid no mind to whoever was entering his room until he felt his hands being grabbed and restrained.
He protested violently, kicking and spitting at whoever had the gall to touch him. Only for a clear voice to make his breath stop completely.
“Hiiragi.”
It was a voice the wanderer was familiar with, he had heard it every night after all. Pleading with him to stop. And hearing the voice cry in agony as it took its last breath.
The voice was calling his name. A name that he was gifted, and cherished. There's only one person who could call him by that name.
He stopped only for a moment, before he pushed Aether away.
The wanderer immediately stumbled and scrambled as far away as he could from the blonde traveler. Terrified that he would have to watch him die again.
“Please… leave. I don't want to hurt you again.”
The usual, cocky wanderer would never have let anyone see him in this state. He was curled up in a corner of his dark room with broken furniture scattered all over the place.
His pitiful self, shaking in anguish and at the verge of tears.
Yet Aether took all of that in and kneeled down to meet his eye.
“Hiiragi. I'm worried about you. Are you in any pain?”
Pain? He was in a lot of pain. His head was throbbing and yelling at him to give in. To just dispose of the person standing in front of him.
Aether, the cause of all this pain, the person standing in his way of becoming a god.
Scaramouche was demanding him to wrap his shaky fingers around Aether's neck and just snap it in half.
“Hiiragi? Can you hear me?”
The wanderer gasped the moment the voices receded enough for his vision to come back into view only for him to see Aether much closer now, a hand gently holding his own and rubbing circles into the back of his palm.
His neck… it's so close….
“Kill him.”
And the wanderer obeyed.
He lunged at Aether. The traveler had not expected it, seeing as how his friend was so weak and vulnerable just a second ago.
The wanderer’s fingers squeeze tightly around his neck, and Aether didn't even have time to gasp in surprise before his airway was constricted so hard that it hurt to even move.
Aether had left his sword and armor outside, so the only form of defense he could muster up was to grab the wanderer’s arms in turn and force them away from him.
Paimon and Nahida were watching everything from outside the room. Nahida had run out of options to get through to the wanderer, so she hoped that Aether could talk to him.
She certainly did not expect things to go this bad.
Paimon shrieked in panic, but Nahida was quick to take action.
Shackles of roots and leaves surround the Wanderer’s wrists, allowing Aether more ease to push him off and restrain him.
Paimon wanted to rush in and be by Aether's side the moment he started coughing and catching his breath. But Nahida stopped her with a shake of her head.
It was hard, but they had to leave it to Aether. Any outside influence would only make things worse.
Aether recovered quickly, and despite the alarm in the Wanderer's face, he moved closer still.
“Hiiragi. If you don't tell me, then I can't help you. Please….. Rely on me. You're not alone anymore.”
Aether spoke despite his broken and shaky voice.
The wanderer was breathing rapidly, but with the firm hold on his arms and the strong gaze glaring down on him. He eventually calmed down, taking big breaths as he started to wake from his haze.
The bruises on Aether's neck were the first thing he noticed. They were in the shape of his hands. Deep red and starting to grow purple at the edges.
“W-what have I done?”
Wanderer’s voice broke as he finally spoke as himself, not Scaramouche. His voice was soft and full of regret, very much unlike the violent self he had been just minutes ago.
“I'm right here, I'm alright. Hiiragi, please, tell me what's wrong.” Aether loosened his restrain on the wanderer and pulled him into a hug.
“I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.”
Wanderer clenched his arms around Aether’s waist tightly, he had come so close to killing someone he treasured so deeply.
“I almost killed you… I thought this was a dream… Shit… I'm so sorry.”
Aether comforted him, gently combing his fingers through the wanderer’s messy hair. Usually he wouldn't even be allowed this much skinship. For the wanderer to crave it himself, something must have been tormenting him horribly.
The wanderer finally caved in and discarded his ego. Because even without being asked to, he started talking. He just wanted the guilt to be off his shoulders. The memories of killing someone he owed so much to over and over.
The wanderer had expected Aether to be just as perplexed as he is about the mysterious recurring dream. But rather than perplexed, Aether had a realizing look on his face.
“Oh… the Samsara.” Aether simply replied with a hollow expression. The wanderer found himself feeling a little annoyed by that reaction.
“What do you mean -oh? How did you already know about my dreams?”
Aether looks hesitant to reply. As if he's hiding something. The wanderer hates the thought of Aether trying to hide something from him.
“Why are you quiet? ANSWER ME!”
“Alright. Both of you. That's enough.”
Nahida finally interrupted. There was no more room for talking between the two, so she decided to take over from here.
“There are some memories which we have kept from the past you. I'll explain everything.”
—---
“168 times?”
“The same amount of times the Sabseruz festival was held in repeat. Wanderer, you were never meant to see those memories, but I'm afraid without my gnosis, they have started to flow back into you from the Irminsul. I apologize, there is no way for me to stop them.”
The wanderer whined in disbelief. “You're telling me those dreams happened for real? And both of you remember it?”
Nahida looked a little guilty while Aether nodded with an awkward smile, trying to play it off as something insignificant.
“And you! What are you smiling like an idiot for? You died 168 times and remembered everything! How could you be ok with that?! How could you-”
The wanderer froze as the realization hit him. Aether looked troubled when he suddenly went silent like a broken puppet.
Aether had remembered the anguish of dying over and over, being mocked and humiliated, being tortured and ripped limb from limb, all one hundred and sixty eight times of it. And yet, at the very end of it. Aether still found it in his heart to forgive the very person who had done that to him.
Aether had saved him, given him a reason to live, and even gifted him a new name.
—--
Hiiragi had asked once what his name meant. Not really wanting to find any deep or poetic meaning in it really, he just wanted to know what Aether was thinking of when he named him. It was in a language he had never heard before after all.
Aether had replied. “Ah it's a play on words. It has the character for (to ache) you can read it as Hihira or Hiira for short.”
Aether wrote the strange character out in the sand, it feels foreign, almost ancient.
'Not of this world then.' Wanderer mused as he watched the words form stroke by stroke,
So this was how his name was written. Although, it was in a character similar to Inazuman writing, it had more solid and sharp strokes than the squiggly writing used in most of teyvat’s written language.
“And also the character for (tree) or wood. We read it as Ki, or Gi in this context.”
Aether wrote the next character beside the first. Spelling out his entire name.
“ It's the name of a tree with sharp leaves. The leaves are painful when touched, but the tree is beautiful in every season, even in the harsh cold winter, it stands elegantly tall and strong. I just think it resembles you. You're always prickly and angry but you have a kind and unwavering heart.”
Aether circles the written words on the sand and smiles at the wanderer.
“Hmph, I've never seen a tree like that. Does it even exist?” Hiiragi tried to change the subject, but it didn't do well in hiding the red hue on his cheeks.
Aether giggled in response. “ It does, somewhere far, far away . I wish you could see it one day, Hiiragi.”
The sounds of his laughter were genuine.
—---
Nahida’s prescription was to have plenty of rest. He was already almost near the end of the loop, so he would simply have to endure the rest of it until it was done playing out.
The wanderer would receive daily checks and always be assured of what is reality and what is a dream.
On the final day, he watched Aether die for the last time. The wanderer never realized this before, but despite Aether knowing that he would die every single loop, Aether never once had any hint of malice or hatred for Scaramouche. Only determination to protect. He admired that part about the traveler.
The Wanderer did not feel any despair on the 169th dream. Despite the voice of Scaramouche howling in pain and bitter defeat, begging for his gnosis not to be taken. Begging that he had nothing left. The wanderer felt nothing but peace as his counterpart falls to the cold hard ground.
He would no longer dream.
Aether was told not to visit him until the dreams were over for fear that Wanderer would relapse into Scaramouche’s influence again. But the wanderer felt that even if Aether did visit him, he wouldn't let it happen again. He understands now, what it means for the traveler to forgive him.
When Aether does finally visit, it was casual and without the heavy emotions that had weighed on the both of them previously.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Better than you and that stupid looking sticker you're wearing.”
Aether giggles at the snarky remark, relieved that the wanderer is back to his normal self. Aether’s neck has been healing. It didn't seem that serious when he was still high on adrenaline, but it turns out that he had fractured one segment of his vertebra and needed to wear a neck brace for a few weeks. He had only been allowed to take it off recently, but the melusines in Fontaine felt bad for him and decided to give him lots of get well stickers, stuck directly on his bandages. Aether must have missed one on the back.
Aether struggles to reach for it to rip it off, but couldn't seem to find it. So the wanderer took it off for him. He studied the pink sticker, flipping and rubbing his thumb over the paper surface.
In truth, he was just too nervous to look Aether in the eyes.
“Hey um… have I told you I'm sorry? For doing…. That.”
The wanderer croaked out, his voice a tone softer than usual.
Aether pinches the sticker out of his hands. “Yes you have, a million times. You don't have to apologize again Hiiragi, I know you didn't mean it.”
Ah, he had missed it so much, that sweet voice calling his name.
“Right. And what makes you think I plan to?”
Hiiragi scoffs as he folds his arms. He watches as Aether does his usual things, rummaging through his bag for something.
Hiiragi watches, dumbfounded as he pulls out a box and pops it open, hundreds of similar stickers with different designs almost overflow from the box. And Aether simply stuffs the pink one in and shuts the box.
“You've been collecting those?” Hiiragi asked, exasperated.
“What?! I can't just throw them out! They're cute!”
Hiiragi groans at how endearing the traveler is. That's just how he is, he has so much love for the world and the world can't help but love him back.
Hiiragi snatches the box out of his hands and dangle it out of Aether's reach.
“Alright, I'll get rid of it for you. It's taking up space in your travel bag.”
“No!!! Hey give it back! I’m going to tell on you! HIIRAGI!!”
‘Ah, I'm going to get addicted to the way he yells my name.’
Hiiragi thought distantly as he hovers higher off the ground so he could make Aether jump just a little higher to get it back.