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If you go down the street from the entrance of Sumeru Academiya you'll eventually stumbled upon a monument. It was made in an image of a famous architect, now standing high and proud, hand reaching out to where sun kissed the horizon. If you find that monument at the later time of the day, you will, most definitely, stumble upon a man standing near it, head thrown back to look at the figure carved out of stone. That is the academiya scribe.
He leaves his workplace exactly at six fourty five each day without a fail, heads down the street, and despite looking like he's in a hurry to get home the man slows down when passing by the monument and then stops completely to spend some time staring at it. Sometimes it's minutes, sometimes - hours.
People aware of what's happening usually pass by without bothering the scribe, as they know there's no point in trying. The unaware ones approach him to aks if he's feeling alright, and every time the answer is the same.
"Yes," the man says in the same tone of voice as always, his eyes locked on the marble face above him, "I'm alright."
And like that, they leave him alone to stand among the crowd of people moving by.
Some days, when skies are gray and the sun is nowhere to be found, when the rain pours onto the city, there is no crowd, and there are no unaware people to pay concerns to the scribe standing alone beneath the monument. Today is a day like this.
With no people to be witness of his actions, Alhaitham approaches the statue of a man he once known. Cautiously overstepping the flowers and bushes growing around in a well organized flowerbed, now overflowing with water, he climbs effortlessly on its pedestal, to stand now the same height as the all too familiar figure.
The rain keeps falling as Alhaitham examines the features of the face before him up close. A hand reaches up to meet the cold marble surface.
"You gave up so much for these people and this is what they payed you with in return, a chunk of stone, not even able to replicate your beauty."
His lips are forced into a thin line, fingers following the curve of a delicately carved cheek. They trail up in an intimately familiar motion to caress away the hair and tuck them behind the ear, only for the fingernails to graze an unmoving stone, breaking the illusion. Alhaitham clicks his tongue, disappointed, hand falling back to the other's cheek.
"Devoid of color, change, ambitions, stale and cold, lifeless, nothing like you once were." He bites painfully into the inside of his mouth as he looks into the eyes that stare right through him. "An utterly ugly thing," a voice strained through his teeth, "Couldn't even begin to compare, not even if they tried."
Rain covers them both in a thick curtain, creating a sense of seclusion, and Alhaitham's eyes fall to the stone cold lips forced to forever bear a smile he'd put on for the countless customers. Alhaitham leans closer, moved by an invisible force, palms of his hands carrying too much of tenderness for the face of stone they cradle in their hold. He angles his head slightly, lips parting with an exhale, almost touching the marbled ones, but at the last moment, Alhaitham's body starts to tremble, and he rushes forward, arms snake around the statue to take it in a tight and desperate embrace, face pressed into the curve of marble neck seeking for a long lost comfort.
"My heart longs for you, ruhi," A whisper is pushed into the lifeless skin, nails scratching the hard back of the smaller figure, "I see traces of you wherever I go, in the buildings, walls, places, and yet, even if I follow them I still wouldn't be able to find you."
Tears are mixed with the rain and swallowed up with the sobs while the scribe's body heaves and falls with uneven breaths, draped over the stone.
"How cruel of you to leave me wandering this unsolvable maze, how cruel of them to build this monument on the way to our home, how cruel."
Eyes squeezed shut, he cradles the back of the monument's head, letting his lips find their way to it's forehead, temple, jaw, ear. The surface is cold and wet and he cries, deprived of the softness and warmth he's desperate to feel.
Minutes pass before Alhaitham draws his final verdict.
"I won't have this pathetic mockery. Won't be a part of this cruel joke that is a life without you." He gives the statue a last moment of embrace before parting away and stepping down from the pedestal.
He throws the last loving glance at the figure of an architect and turns to walk home, never looking back.
The next day, people flooded the streets of Sumeru anew. Swarmed in the mundanes of life, not many of them noticed that the scribe of the academiya haven't stopped by the monument that day. And the day after that. And the day after that too. Nobody saw him again.