Chapter Text
It is easy for this wanderer to hate the summer. Sure, the weather is somewhat more bearable for him than others due to the nature of his clothing and his ease in harnessing the winds, but more than anything, he hates watching people in summer.
In Inazuma, citizens love to go about the streets freely, and no matter what, they will be met with open arms, a smile, anything warmer than the sun above them. He turns and looks at any corner of the marketplace and people will be chattering to one another, bargaining with smiles on their faces, even with the guards on duty.
The summer festival is in full swing by the time the wanderer arrives at the pop-up stands on Byakko Plains, packed with Inazumans and travelers alike. He squeezes his way through, some giving him a wide berth with his scowl permanently fixed under his hat.
But he lightens when he sees a stand selling Dango, and he waits in line before snagging a few sticks. One of the sets is shaped and colored like koi fish, and he smiles when he bites into the chewy, juicy glutinous rice.
As the sun begins to inch its way towards the horizon, he crosses the water to Amakane Island, where that fireworks girl and her dad are setting up. He recognizes her colorful clothing from the bottom of the island — they met once, briefly, when he had arrived in Inazuma for the first time since he had last colluded with the Fatui. He completely forgot her name.
There are a few others milling about on the island, eagerly trying to snag better seats for the fireworks show. They’re all in pairs or large groups — never solos, and those who do arrive alone join a group that they already know or make a friend.
Therefore, the wanderer is an eyesore on Amakane. He sits by himself on the edge of the cliff, staring at the ocean that separates him and Liyue and Sumeru, nations he’s stayed in and traveled through: he’s almost starting to miss them. But it’s an interesting feeling, being back in Inazuma, trying to reclaim the land he was created in.
But to everyone else, he’s just a traveler with no name, a boy who will enter their life and leave it just as quickly. The girl that laughs with her father and another orange-haired boy at the tip of the cliff likely doesn’t remember him at all. They exchanged some words, some gifts, and went on with their days. As he did with every person he met.
The fireworks show is to start soon. He catches conversations about a technical difficulty that the Naganoharas are having, that the girl and the other boy are trying to situate back on Byakko Island as they speak. He sighs, taking off his hat to lay on the grass as the sky begins to darken.
He’s seen his fair share of sunsets, and the magic of them are starting to dull with every day he lives on. He can’t quite enjoy anything the way he used to, when he lived for his comrades, for the Akademiya. Anger bubbles up from the pits of his stomach from time to time, only to be pushed down in order to stay civil in front of strangers.
And yet… he feels calm here, under the stars of Inazuma, waiting for something not even guaranteed to him. Indebted to no one, just him and the sky that has lied to him countless numbers of time. Still, he gazes at it, wondering if his journey will end soon.
The wanderer opens his eyes when he hears the first boom of a firework, exploding into the sky with the crackling noises following it. The citizens around him, behind him, ooh and ahh , seemingly multiplying by the second. But this island will not hold all of Inazuma, thankfully.
The show commences, the sky sparkling with a multitude of colors. There are shapes and symbols that he didn’t think were possibly with fireworks — it must have been tampered with godly powers, because there is no way some of it could be in front of his very eyes.
“First time?” A boy materializes out of nowhere, sitting beside him on the ledge. He holds two sparklers in his hands, one extended towards the wanderer. “Yoimiya has been handing these out to everyone.”
He sits up, mildly embarrassed as he gingerly takes it from his hand. “Thank you.” His mind is already spinning with ideas of how to give something back. “Do I need to pay you?”
The boy smiles beneath his white hair, a red streak painting the right side of his bangs. “No. These are free.”
He looks at ease, the arm with the sparkler resting on his knee as the other leg dangles over the edge. He turns his gaze towards the fireworks, still going on strong. It must have been five, ten minutes since the show began? The wanderer wonders how long he has been there, if he’d been watching him lay there and enjoy the fireworks like that.
He was right, though — it was his first time seeing fireworks. Explosions were familiar to him, but not pretty ones like these. Hearts float in the air, purple finches take flight and its sparks cascade down towards him and the boy. Their sparklers are still going strong, and when he looks around, everyone has their own, too.
“Here alone, too?” the boy beside him asks without tearing his gaze away.
“Yeah.” His voice is raspy after not speaking for so long. He clears his throat, despite no intention to speak again.
Luckily, the other doesn’t push. They watch the fireworks, sparklers in hand, listening to the excitement of Inazumans behind them. At least, for once, he knows there’s another person who came here alone.
The show ends with a final rush of fireworks, each one making a noise that echoes in his heart. He presses a hand to his chest, not used to the vibrating feeling, then glances over at the white-hared boy.
His profile is illuminated with every color of the rainbow, nose and lips gently carved out, cheeks round but not pulling away from the rest of his features. His eyes are still trained on the sky, leading the wanderer to finally tear away his eyes from him, too.
The final image of a rainbow-colored sun flashes in the sky, and fire rains down on Amakane Island. It extinguishes just as it hits their heads, leaving the world in awe in wonder.
“She really outdid herself this year,” the boy murmurs.
Of course, he knows other people. But why come alone, when he knows the creator of the fireworks show? Why not sit with her?
Even in the dark, the wanderer can’t stop looking at him. He does not acknowledge him, question his presence, why he’s dressed so strangely or why his hat hides his stone face. He simply sits and stares at the sparklers still lit up in their hands, fashioned in a way to never run out unless manually doused out.
In the light, his eyes are a surprising shade of red — not fiery, like the fourth Harbinger, the Knave — but soft yet bright, almost like the millions of sunsets he’s seen in his lifetime. But it’s… better. Better than any sunset he’s ever seen.
He forces down a rush that comes up his throat, an urge to speak. There’s something in his mind that’s already forgotten, just by looking at him. He’s searching for something else now, a reason why he can’t keep his eyes off of the boy.
He’s finally forced to look away when the boy raises his eyes to his. People around them are getting up and leaving the island, a few staying behind to enjoy the summer night. A breeze rustles by, and the boy’s hair is momentarily swept away, exposing the glow of an Anemo vision on his back.
Before the wanderer has time to process what this means, the boy stands up and touches their sparklers together. “Perhaps I’ll see you around. If not, may the wind accompany you on all your travels.”
With that, he disappears faster than the wanderer can open his mouth. Did he imagine him this entire time? No one is perfect, but his imagination might as well have created the closest thing.
He finds his heart still beating long after the fireworks show, leaving him to wonder if the white-haired boy was a dream, or if he was truly part of his reality.