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When Kaveh was 15, he had a simple curve appear on his left wrist. If he stared at it long enough, it looked like an upside-down U. When it showed up, it made its presence known– he felt a searing pain as it carved itself into his skin, and he’d dropped to his knees, clutching his wrist as if it could’ve fallen off.
After the pain ceased, he decided to ignore the mark. He’d seen his mom’s scarred wrist. When his father had died just a week prior, she was the first to know. Since then, he’d long decided to not care for his soulmate, not if it was going to cause pain like that someday. He’d prefer to lose them without loving them.
He’d do everything to cover his mark with bracelets or sleeves. Every other kid at school cheered when they got their mark, but he cowered. Several of his friends met their soulmate within a year of gaining their mark. When his buddy Saad had skipped over to their lunch table one day with a lavender padisarah on his wrist, Kaveh smiled and congratulated him. He watched as Saad and Safiya’s relationship blossomed, and while his heart ached for that kind of love, he was by no means jealous. Soulmates always led to pain, he told himself.
Kaveh knew his soulmate was far away. That was one small solace in his situation. The simple curve meant nothing. His soulmate could be as far as Mondstadt. The less likely Kaveh was to meet his predetermined partner, the better. It was likely he wouldn’t meet them by accident. A voice inside his head told him to uncover the mark, but he squashed it like a bug and chose to remain clueless.
When Kaveh was 16, his mother was taken away due to something the doctors had called “mental instability.” He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen what his mom had tried to do— she had been unable to bear the loss of her soulmate.
She thrashed and yelled as they carried her away, screaming things like “my baby” and “take care of him.” She was calling to him. He had known that she hadn’t been okay since the desert-race accident last year, and he knew that today was the anniversary of his father’s death. He hurt too. His chest felt like someone was pushing the end of a sharpened dagger into it, and for a brief moment he contemplated that would hurt less. But he shook his head and refocused himself on what mattered most: his studies.
Apparently, his mom had told the authorities that Kaveh was perfectly fine, and he was set to apply and enter the Akademiya soon. He needed to stay where he was. If he had been uprooted from their desert-border home, his chances would have been slimmer. By Kusanali’s grace, he was allowed to remain in the house he loved (though it felt strange as the ghosts of his parents made their residence there too. He could swear he saw his dad more than once) and continue vying towards his goals.
Thus, Kaveh slaved over his work for several hours a day. Any distraction was a weak point, and he couldn’t miss the chance to gain a scholarship. He’d work from sunrise until well past sunset, living off of whatever was cheapest to buy off of the money he earned doing odd jobs for his neighbors. His mother’s money went back to her to pay her bills.
He was only 16 when he became fully independent.
When Kaveh was 17, he moved to Sumeru City. He was to become the Ksharewar Darshan’s newest scholar, and he’d settled into his family’s property there. He knew he was going to have to spend every single moment of his energy on his studies if he were to make a name for himself. He didn’t spare a second glance at the pair of headphones on his wrist. In fact, he chose to cover it with his sleeves when he could. To him, it didn’t matter if the sun was burning a hole in his uniform. He would continue to cover his wrist as if his life depended on it.
He could relax a bit, now that he’d managed to gain a scholarship. He needed to keep his reputation up, and the sooner he got out of school the more easily he could pay for all the things he needed but did not have.
He had a home, yes, but he spent more time in the House of Daena. It was to the point where every librarian acknowledged his presence and so did every student. He had an infamous reputation of being diligent and hardworking, and grades to match that. He was always at the top of his class, and no one doubted his intelectual ability.
That is, until Alhaitham.
When Kaveh was 18, he met Alhaitham in their shared Inazuman language class. He was 15 minutes early, as always, and he sat front and center of the room. Expecting that no one would sit by him, he began to unpack his materials. Once he finished, he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.
When he opened his eyes again, he decided to scour the room for potential friends for the next year. He wasn’t ever the best with languages, and he figured he could use a buddy. That’s when he laid eyes on the gray-haired boy next to him.
“Hey,” he said, sparing a little wave with his left hand. He tried not to think of the fabric covering his soulmark.
Teal eyes scanned over Kaveh and settled on his wrist. Kaveh dropped his arm immediately, awkwardly turning away.
“It’s nice to see someone else who doesn’t care about soulmates. The gods are stupid,” the boy said. While Kaveh didn’t dare vocalize his hatred for the gods, it was indeed there. They had taken his father too soon and ruined his mother beyond repair.
The boy raised his own left wrist, similarly covered by fabric. He then held the same hand out for Kaveh to shake it.
“Nice to meet you,” Kaveh found himself saying, staring in astonishment. “There isn’t many people like us.”
“Dare I say we’re just smarter than the rest?”
With that, Kaveh knew he’d found an ally and maybe, just maybe, a friend.
He later discovered that the boy’s name was Alhaitham– the Haravatat Darshan’s star pupil and master linguist. At the age of 16, he was the Akademiya’s youngest pupil, and by far (somehow) the smartest. Kaveh thought he spent the most time in the House of Daena, but perhaps that title was not his to bear alone.
Often they’d find themselves at the ends of the same table, poring over textbooks of varying subjects. Then they’d come together to discuss the technicalities of the Inazuman language, and separate soon after. Kaveh struggled with Inazuman, but Alhaitham made it easy.
They both had bright reputations among their peers. Soon, students would flock over to their table to bombard the two with questions. And soon after that started, Alhaitham pulled Kaveh aside as they exited the House of Daena at 3 A.M.
“I cannot do this anymore, Kaveh, and with all due respect, your fans are tiring.”
Kaveh admittedly was a little hurt, but heartbreak never stopped the gears in his head from turning. “You could come to study at my place?”
“We could take turns? One week at your place, one at mine.”
And so their arrangement survived throughout their first years at the Akademiya. Neither boy discussed their marks, didn’t even look at them. Yet, throughout their friendship, Kaveh found himself wanting to peel off the fabric covering his wrist, just to see if his heart made the choice that Celestia wanted him to make.
He loved hearing Alhaitham say his name. He loved waking up on his dining table to the sight of their papers spread everywhere with one gray-haired boy fell fast asleep on the cold wood. He might have a little crush on Alhaitham, but he shoved that deep down.
He so desperately wanted to peek at Haitham’s wrist just once. But he wasn’t about to breach the boy’s privacy like that, even if curiosity ended up killing him. And so, Kaveh locked himself in his bathroom, and for the first time in two years, he allowed himself to look at his soulmark.
It was a pair of gold headphones, much more detailed than the simple curve he’d seen many years ago. Kaveh knew his soulmate must be in Sumeru city, though he couldn’t hide his disappointment– Haitham never wore headphones. He was never good at multitasking, and always preferred to read over listening to anything.
Kaveh blinked back tears. He’d get over it. Soulmates were fake anyways.
(“Have you ever wondered who your soulmate is?” Kaveh had asked that evening. Alhaitham stiffened.
“I do. All the time. But I’d much rather spend my time with you than someone who Celestia assumed I should spend my time with.”)
When Kaveh was 21, he proposed a partner project between himself and Alhaitham.
“We’ve worked together before,” he said, mindlessly doing calculations for his latest assignment, “and we match quite well, if I do say so myself.”
Alhaitham hummed. “And what exactly would this project be on?”
“I was hoping you had something in mind.”
“How about the runes and architecture of King Deshret’s ruins?”
Kaveh nodded, and they got to work.
“I don’t think this is going to work out,” Alhaitham murmured after putting down his fifth book of the day. “It’s too much for the both of us.”
“I told you we needed more people to help.”
“They would have gotten in the way. I mean to say that there’s too much in this topic to cover.”
“It’s not too much, Haitham, we can do this.”
“You’re all heart and no brain, Kaveh. If you keep going like this you’re going to fail.”
“It wouldn’t hurt for you to have a heart, would it?” Kaveh mumbled, wiping his tears before they even fell. He didn’t know why he was crying. They argued quite often. Even more so lately than before.
He missed waking up in Haitham’s apartment. He missed the playful arguments, not whatever this was.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Alhaitham said, suddenly ice-cold and barely a husk of who he was before. The Alhaitham Kaveh knew would never do something just to do it. The boy Kaveh knew would put his soul into everything he did even if it wasn’t necessary.
“Seriously?” he asked. “What’s gotten into you?”
“It’s too much . And it’s nowhere near perfect—”
“It doesn’t have to be perfect, Haitham, we’re human , for fucks’ sake—”
“—so you should take my name off the thesis.”
“—you’re so stupid sometimes—what?”
“You heard me.”
“Are you fucking kidding?”
“I don’t want my name on something that isn’t perfect.”
“Does everything have to be perfect with you? Can’t you just do something because it’s imperfect?”
“Not when this is one of the first theses I publish.”
“You really are heartless,” Kaveh seethed, before he could regret it. He watched as Alhaitham’s eyes widened in shock.
“Oh,” he whispered.
“Wait, no, Haitham, that’s not what I—”
“No… the message was clear.”
Alhaitham gathered his things and left Kaveh’s house without another word.
They finished the project. Neither of them liked the outcome very much. But it did what it had to, and it was decent. It was neither of their best work and yet it was praised by their professors.
They were the only ones that had truly known what had happened. So naturally, when word got out that neither Kaveh nor Alhaitham were even seen with each other in a few months, people got curious.
Kaveh had multiple occasions where his juniors would ask him stupid questions just to pry about Alhaitham. He hadn’t even seen the gray-haired boy in weeks. Kaveh’s graduation was coming up soon, and even if they had fallen apart, some corner of Kaveh’s heart hoped he’d see Alhaitham there.
As Kaveh walked across the stage in his green robe and cap, he scoured the crowd for a familiar set of teal eyes. He accepted his degree, bowed to his professors, and walked off in the opposite way he came, only to find who he was searching for at the very last second.
He locked eyes with Alhaitham, who immediately looked back at his lap and began scrawling something on a notepad.
That was the last he’d see of Alhaitham for a few years.
When Kaveh undertook the construction of the Palace of Alcazarzaray, he knew it might leave him dirt poor. And so it did, but Kaveh’s bullish need to complete everything he started ended with him spending nights on random benches in Sumeru. He had been dubbed “the Light of the Ksharewar” only for him to search for projects only so he could go to bed without an empty stomach.
Naturally, when he was stirred from his sleep by a teary-eyed Alhaitham, his first instinct was to drop everything and run . But he wondered if Haitham had a solution to his predicament, and had many questions as to why the hell he was crying.
“I found you,” Alhaitham said as he sat up. Without saying anything else, he wrapped his arms around Kaveh’s waist.
“What…?” Kaveh questioned, still sleep-worn. He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not. He had been dreaming about Alhaitham rather frequently.
“Come home,” Haitham said, separating from Kaveh and holding onto his hands. “You can’t live like this.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Kaveh muttered, but stood with the gray-haired boy nonetheless.
“They offered us a house for the thesis. I’ve kept your room empty this whole time.”
It would be nice to sleep on a bed.
Kaveh let Alhaitham drag him to his house (their house), and the second he caught sight of the plain white mattress in the empty room, all the fight Kaveh had in him melted away. He flopped onto it, immediately disappearing into his dreams.
Kaveh couldn’t say their relationship wasn’t tense—it was, by all means, strained. Every “good morning” was said out of obligation, meals just happened to have extra remaining (out of courtesy), and obviously, privacy was never an issue. It was almost as if they were avoiding each other with the most particular precision that majority of the time, it was as if they lived separately.
For months, Kaveh was lucky to even catch a glimpse of his roommate, even if neither of them left the house very often. After work, they’d both come home and hole themselves up in their respective rooms. By 8 every evening, someone would start to cook. When it wasn’t Kaveh, it was Alhaitham. They danced around each other as if they weren’t ever friends.
When Kaveh’s stomach began to plead for sustenance, he’d reluctantly get up to start cooking. He was a decent chef—his mom had taught him a few recipes before she left—but he only ever cooked if he had to. Moral obligations.
He cracked the door just a little bit to see if Alhaitham was out in the open
Kaveh caught sight of Alhaitham, listening to music while cooking biryani, and suddenly, Kaveh’s head began to spin.
He pulled the fabric covering his soulmark off his arm and gasped.
Though sparsely colored, there was no mistaking it—the headphones on Alhaitham’s head were the same on Kaveh’s wrist. It was impossible to ignore. He and Alhaitham were soulmates. Kaveh returned to the recesses of his room and laid down on his bed, head throbbing like someone shot an arrow into it.
Mehrak trilled confusedly as Kaveh held his head.
Kaveh needed out. Now.
He stormed past Alhaitham (who paid no mind) in the kitchen, and basically sprinted towards Lambad’s tavern. He knew it was a bad habit. He knew he should quit drinking, but he couldn’t. Especially not now. Perhaps not ever.
“The usual?” Lambad asked, already reaching for a bottle.
Kaveh slammed his head on the bar counter and hummed. He just couldn’t deal with anything at the moment. When the drink appeared next to him, he downed it within minutes. Quickly, he was reaching for his fifth drink of the night, too far gone to register anything that was happening.
He was speaking to someone— he knew that much. She was small, and green, and rather cute. He didn’t really think a kid should be in here, but she spoke so eloquently. She reminded him of Haitham.
She reached up to his head and gave him a little pat right beside the feather he always wore. Somehow, his headache abated its stinging.
She must be an angel , Kaveh thought, delirious to the point of no-return.
He contemplated ordering his sixth drink when he spotted Alhaitham out of the corner of his (very blurry) eye. Of course, while Haitham was the last person sober Kaveh wanted to see, drunk Kaveh wanted nothing more than to stare at Alhaitham for… an extended period of time. So he did just that.
“Kaveh,” Haitham said, tapping said drunk blonde on the shoulder. He leaned closed, and Kaveh felt his cheeks warm up. He couldn’t tell whether it was the alcohol or his feelings. “Time to come home.”
He motioned for Lambad to put the costs on his own tab instead of Kaveh’s before looping one of Kaveh’s spaghetti-like arms over his shoulder. Kaveh was fully red in the face, and he was fully aware that this was not because of the alcohol alone.
The pair stumbled to their house (had Alhaitham called it home? ) before Kaveh passed out on their couch. He’d been doing a lot of that lately, hadn’t he?
Kaveh woke up the next morning with the worst headache he’d ever had. He managed to drag himself to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up and brush his teeth. His mouth reeked of dead mice (not that he knew what that tasted like, ew) and he’d much rather taste the flavors of the breakfast he was about to make.
He groaned as he lumbered over to their kitchen, in which he found a bowl of soup. It was oddly sweet, given their history. Any act of kindness seemed huge. The soup was good. Not just decent, or passable, it was good. And Kaveh let himself relish in this newfound comfort.
He was alone in the house. He should be uncomfortable. Somehow, Kaveh found himself longing for someone’s presence to comfort him.
He’d always thought the idea of soulmates was stupid. Not just because of his mother’s mark. The fact that someone had been picked out for you just because the gods thought so was incredibly messed up, in his opinion. Though he had seen many soulmates come together in his lifetime, he hadn’t believed that love could be true. Not if they knew they were supposed to fall for each other.
But since last night, he’d found himself thinking that he’d fallen for Haitham without any guidance. In the first few years of their friendship, he ignored their marks completely. They’d touched many times, from a tap on the shoulder to hands linked as they careened down market streets. And even so, they never thought about being soulmates.
Kaveh grabbed a cup out of the cabinet—he needed coffee, and fast. He set the kettle to warm up some water, and reached for the coffee powder, when he noticed a folded sheet of paper taped to its lid.
He used his nails to pry the sheet off without ripping it, and painstakingly unfolded it. He unfurled it, laying the paper flat to get the creases out, and began to read.
Dear Kaveh,
It feels wrong calling you “dear.” I had to mention that before I continue with this.
I figured out we were soulmates the second I saw Mehrak. In our second year, you would have cracked your skull if I hadn’t caught you before you hit the floor. You were beyond your limit, tirelessly working, and I was only studying to keep myself occupied. When you fell, I caught you, and yet that didn’t stir you from your sleep. Out of curiosity, I looked at my mark—which I never do, I only did that because I have a massive crush on you, but that’s a story for later—and it was a brilliantly detailed briefcase. I knew, in that moment, that it was something only you would design.
I was right, of course, even though you hadn’t designed it then. I’ve been madly enamored with your designs since we met. I’ve been madly enamored with you. Your words may have hurt me but I forgave you quickly after.
I spent years looking for you, hoping for even a glimpse of your hair. You are quite elusive when someone wants to find you. I missed those ruby-red eyes, even if they looked at me with disdain. For years, I believed soulmates to be a farce, but when I had you in my arms, I suddenly knew Celestia didn’t leave things to chance with us. As much as I hate the gods, I love you more.
If I’m being honest, I regret every word I spoke then. You didn’t deserve what I said to you. Your heart is the best part of you. Kaveh, you’re one of the most amazing people I’ve known. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.
I’m writing this while I’m drunk off my ass. After you came home last night, I couldn’t take it anymore. I would never be able to tell you any of this if I said it sober, and I need you to know that drunk words are sober thoughts. I’ve never stopped falling for you ever since that first day in Inazuman Language 101. I hope we can fix what we broke 6 years ago. I get that we’re not perfect: it’s like you said all those years ago. We aren’t perfect, but I’d like “us” to be an “us” even with all our flaws.
Love, Alhaitham
Kaveh gasped, dropping the paper. He’d never thought to think about what Haitham would feel.
As he picked up the sheet, he folded it into a neat square and shoved it in his pocket. He didn’t even grab Mehrak as he threw the front door open, haphazardly locking it. He bounded down the streets of Sumeru City like a lunatic. He was still dressed in his pajamas—it was Saturday, he planned to stay home—and his hair was tied back into a lazy ponytail. The red bobby pins he’d shoved to get his bangs out of his face while washing it poked him as he ran, but he couldn’t care less.
Kaveh knew he was attracting quite a bit of attention. He usually seemed calm and composed, but this Kaveh was one Sumeru had never witnessed. Well, except Alhaitham. He trudged up every flight of stairs he had to bypass. After he reached the Akademiya, he opened door after door to reach the (acting) Grand Sage’s office.
He dropped his hands onto his knees to catch his breath, where there stood one guard. He couldn’t be over 20, and Kaveh recognized him as one of his students.
“Ahmed?”
“Oh! Good morning, Professor!” Ahmed bowed deeply. “I’m afraid I can’t let you in. Sir has asked that no one bother him.”
Kaveh sighed, rubbing his left temple. “Would he at least let his soulmate in?” He drew away the cloth covering his wrist.
“Professor, I would let you in, but he explicitly asked—”
“Bullshit,” Kaveh muttered. “How would you like an extra three percent on your test tomorrow?”
“Ten.”
“Five.”
“Deal.”
“Thanks. And: please do me a favor and don’t tell anyone about my mark.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” Ahmed opened the door, and Kaveh entered.
He closed it as soon as he was fully in the office, locking it for good measure. Alhaitham didn’t look up. He didn’t have to. Kaveh could see his hand trembling.
“Haitham?”
The gray-haired boy hummed shakily, and suddenly Kaveh could see his best friend again. His soulmate.
“I got the letter you left me,” Kaveh tried again. He watched as Alhaitham’s hand twitched. Still, he didn’t look up.
“I’ve said everything I’ve wanted to say. Are you going to put me out of my misery? I know how you feel about soulmates, Kaveh.”
“How I felt, ” he corrected, “before I knew it was you.”
Alhaitham looked up, and for the first time, Kaveh saw tears in his eyes—his absolutely incandescent teal eyes. The little hazel perimeter around his pupil seemed brighter than ever. He was struggling to hold the tears back. “Did anything change?”
Kaveh made his way behind the desk just to hold Alhaitham’s face in his hands. As the tears fell, he used his thumbs to wipe them away.
“Yeah. A while ago,” he kissed Alhaitham’s forehead. “It was that night I passed out on the couch. That’s when I knew.”
Alhaitham covered Kaveh’s hand with his own. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Swear on it?”
“I swear on Mehrak and the Palace of Alcazarzaray.”
Alhaitham stood to match Kaveh’s level. Not quite—Haitham still had a four-inch leverage, but that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Not when they had each other.
Alhaitham leaned forward to pose a silent question. As their foreheads touched, Kaveh smiled, and nodded ever so slightly.
When Kaveh was 27, he kissed the love of his life.