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The night was suffocatingly silent, the kind of silence that spoke volumes in its stillness. Alhaitham stared at the ceiling of his now-empty house, the weight of recent events pressing down on his chest like an iron vice. He remembered the last time he saw Kaveh, the determined look in his eyes as he finally left for good. Kaveh had always been a fierce and passionate spirit, his heart guiding him more than his head. It was one of the things Alhaitham admired most about him, even if it sometimes drove him crazy. He closed his eyes, letting the memories wash over him. The blonde’s laughter, bright and infectious, echoed in his mind. He could still see his face, animated with passion as he argued about architecture or art, his eyes alight with a fire that never dimmed.
When he realizes his thoughts, he immediately sits up, wondering where it all came from. "Have I always thought about him like that?" He whispers to himself, still in disbelief at how those words were his own. It can't be, right?
In hopes to rid of these thoughts, he decides to pick up a book but the silence is deafening without Kaveh’s pencil scratching, crumbling of paper and even his cursing. Alhaitham could only close the book as he leaned back in his chair, staring at the table where his past roommate usually sat when they were talking. The grief of his absence was always there, even when he distract himself. It was like a silent companion, but he had learned to carry it with him and to let it shape him without consuming him. (Or atleast tried to)
"Okay, what the hell," he once again, talks to him in the dead of night, still confused as to why he keeps thinking about things like this. Kaveh was a friend, yes, a good one in fact but he never knew that his absence could distress him THIS much. "It is too late to regret anything now, really," acting strong and denying everything, he releases a tired sigh as he closes his eyes, finally sinking into his thoughts.
The day the architect decided to move out was expected yet inevitable. Their arguments had grown more frequent, their differences more pronounced and even the scribe had sensed the growing tension, the unspoken decision hanging in the air between them. Yet, when the moment finally came, it hit him harder than he had anticipated. The first days when Kaveh moved out, Alhaitham immersed himself in his work, hoping the routine would dull the sharp edges of his grief. Yet, every corner of the apartment held memories of Kaveh. The sight of his favorite books missing from the shelves, the empty space where his sketches and hanging paintings used to be, even the absence of his yapping—all these changes were silent reminders of the void Kaveh was leaving behind.
As cliche as it may be, it seemed like he did take out everything beautiful in his house along with him. Now this place is just... a house, to simply put it.
For now, he would carry on, maintaining his routines, immersing himself in his work. But he knew that every time he walked through the door, every time he sat at the kitchen table, the absence of Kaveh would be a silent, lingering presence.
After that night, the day progressed as they always do. He continued his work at the Akademiya, immersing himself in research and lectures, his demeanor as composed and meticulous as ever. No one could really tell what was wrong nor was he willing to show it. After all, he is the mean and indifferent scribe of the Akademiya, or at least that's the title Kaveh gave him.
One afternoon, Alhaitham suddenly found himself in the library, a place he and Kaveh had often frequented. The scent of old books and the hushed whispers of scholars provided a familiar comfort. He walked down the aisles, his fingers brushing the spines of countless volumes until he reached a secluded corner where they had often studied together. Just as the way his feet brought him to this place, he grabbed one of Kaveh's annotated books. No one really read it much because they said that it was all too complicated to understand. Opening the book, his fingers trail along the tiny drawings of instructions the architect pointed out, not even realizing that he was already smiling at the thought of Kaveh just squiggling things here at 2 am, his to say, 'peak hours,' or that's the excuse of always working during midnights.
With the book in hand, he sits down at their usual table as he continues to read through Kaveh's long-ass annotations, (he even talks too much here.) he didn't even notice that the hours already slipped by, marked only by the turning of pages. Despite that, he continued even occasionally, glancing up to the spot where Kaveh used to sit. He could almost see him there, hunched over his sketches, his brow furrowed in concentration. The memory was both a comfort and a torment, a reminder of what he had lost.
Alhaitham was even too immersed in reading Kaveh's works to notice four of his 'friends', (Tighnari, Cyno, Collei, and even Faruzan) whispering a few meters behind him, talking about how he has been there since the afternoon and now it's only a few minutes until midnight. They've been taking turns observing him, maybe even more concerned than curious about his behavior. They all know about Kaveh and Alhaitham's situation but knowing Alhaitham, he didn't want anyone to interfere with whatever he had planned for himself. But just for tonight, they decided to offer him a piece of advice.
And the chosen sacrifice was Tighnari who lost the game of Lots. Well, with or without the game, it was best for him to be the one out of the four to talk to Alhaitham about this.
As they conveyed their plan, Tighnari approached Althaitham and they exchanged a few words but the conversation didn't last long. It seems like the scribe only talked once and Tighnari did the rest. With a defeated sigh, Tighnari returned to the group only to say, "Well, I told him that even if Kaveh is far away now, it doesn't mean he couldn't visit him. We all have, even. But after that, he just ignored me. I think the reason why he doesn't have the guts to do so is because their relationship took a turn for the worst before it happened."
"Should we visit Kaveh for him then? Tell him about Alhaitham's actions?" Collie suggested, also worried about her friend.
But even with her sincerity, the other three shook their head, knowing that Alhaitham should visit Kaveh himself to resolve his self-quarrel about Kaveh and their relationship.
The night grew darker, and the library’s silence deepened, the four finally left to rest but Alhaitham only recently closed the book, holding it to his chest for a moment before returning it to the shelf. As he walked back to his alcove, he felt a flicker of resolve. Maybe he really should consider Tighnari's suggestion. It's already been weeks, after all. He couldn't keep Kaveh waiting anymore. A sleepless night passed and Alhaitham found himself buying a bottle of Kaveh's favorite wine, even flowers to top it off as soon as the stalls opened. He knew this was a shameless move, one where he might just as well willingly walk to his demise typa move. But who cares anymore, right?
As he walked towards where Kaveh now resided, he felt that the air was cold and heavy with the promise of rain, the sky a blanket of grey that mirrored his mood. He moved with purpose, though each step felt like it carried the weight of the world. When he finally arrived, he just sat there, the silence enveloping him. The pain was sharp and raw, a wound that refused to heal. But amidst the sorrow, there was also a sense of peace. Here, in this quiet place, he could feel Kaveh’s yapping already.
He looks down, afraid to see the sight that he's been avoiding for weeks.
“Kaveh,” he began, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come.”
The wind rustled the leaves above, a gentle, mournful sound that seemed to acknowledge his words.
“I’ve been trying to stay busy, to keep moving forward,” he continued. “But it’s hard. Everything reminds me of you. The house... our house, the library, the tavern you designed...”
He paused, his throat tightening. “I miss you. More than I thought possible. You were the heart of our home, Kaveh. Without you, it’s just a place. An empty place...”
In that moment, he realizes that the only way to realize how special someone is to you is to lose them. To be in a place where you couldn't feel their embrace, their smile, their touch... or even see them.
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, worn sketchbook. It was one of Kaveh’s, filled with his drawings, ideas, and plans that could no longer be fulfilled. Alhaitham opened it, flipping through the pages, his eyes lingering on the familiar sketches, still not having the courage to look up. “I found this the other day. I thought you might like to have it here with you.”
He placed the sketchbook, the flowers, and even the wine gently in front of him, a small token of the life they shared. “You always saw the world in a way I couldn’t. Maybe that's why I always confided with you but even if our beliefs crossed, your words brought so much light and color into my life. I don’t know how to move on without you, but I’m trying.”
Alhaitham closed his eyes, the weight of his grief pressing down on him. “I wish I could have done more. I wish I could have saved you. I'm sorry that our last meeting was an argument. If I was given the chance to change everything, I would've fallen to my knees and begged you to stay. It was all my fault...I'm so...I'm so sorry. ”
He finally looks up but instead of the smile Kaveh always carried, he is faced with a marble headstone.
"Here lies the Light of Kshahrewar," One of the words eteched there. Well, he was also the light of Alhaitham's life. Now, what is this pitiful Scribe to do?
The world around him blurred, but he didn’t move. He needed this, to let the pain and the grief flow through him, to acknowledge the depth of his loss rather than fooling himself that Kaveh simply moved out. An hour or two of silence passed before Alhaitham took a deep breath, finally feeling a small measure of clarity amidst the sorrow. He stood, his fingers lingering on the headstone one last time. “I’ll keep going, Kaveh,” he said softly, still trying not to break.
"My biggest regret now is how I never got to tell you that... I love you... I love you more than life itself," he whispers as he gently presses his lips against the cold marble, regret and sorrow eating him up.
With a final lingering glance at the grave, Alhaitham turned and walked away. The path back to the cemetery gates was long, but each step felt a little lighter. The pain of Kaveh’s loss would never fully leave him, but he knew now that he could carry it, that he could move forward while still holding Kaveh’s memory close to his heart.
As he left the cemetery, the sun broke through the clouds, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape. Alhaitham looked up, feeling a small, bittersweet smile tug at his lips. In that moment, he felt Kaveh’s presence, a comforting, silent echo that would always be with him, guiding him through the days ahead.