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There’s something that every longlife species is told not long after they’re born, a specific phrase or two, maybe sometimes even a warning. It’s supposed to prepare them for the inevitable or rather, an inevitable event, that is the purpose for which it’s told, but can you ever be truly prepared for something that great? That’s such a shock to the system, it echoes throughout your life for however long you remain conscious? Well, like with most dishes, people will have different reactions, and the reactions from Foxians especially? Well, they can vary wildly. Some have no trouble moving on, some take a while but for most, they ‘mate for life’ and never truly move on. Being a longlife species means you kind of have to prepare for that, that inevitable fact of life.
Longlife species do have it slightly easier, in that they’re not truly immortal. They’d likely not have to wait too long for that inevitable fact, for them to reunite after what would seem like aeons. Though, maybe having such a connection would’ve been their first mistake. Maybe not having that connection at all would be exceptionally easier, it’d certainly take away the years of loneliness that such an event would bring if it came to pass. Maybe that’s what the phrase was warning of in the first place, that if you don’t form such a connection, you won’t have to suffer seemingly endlessly because of it. Maybe that had been his first mistake, maybe it had been his only mistake, and yet, it didn’t feel like one. And that was just the thing, wasn’t it?
The knowing of a simple phrase doesn’t prevent the universe from deciding who should steal a longlife species’ heart. It doesn’t stop the heart from deciding to love a shortlife species, who could only at most live for a century. And why should it anyways? The deaths of shortlife species are simply something longlife species must come to terms with, something immortals must too. Shortlife species die, and that’s it. Some might even describe them as expendable, something that made him simply taste bile. Longlife species die too, just much later on. Excruciatingly later on, they wouldn’t see their shortlife partners until much later. This was a thought that made his chest clench. Because that was, again, just the thing, right?
Accepting that shortlife species die, doesn’t take away the excruciating pain left behind, doesn’t fill the gaping hole left in one’s heart, doesn’t make the ghost of one’s past lover dissipate, doesn’t make their memory any less painful. It doesn’t do anything to dissipate the growing shadow over the one left behind. It doesn’t stop the sympathetic looks the one left behind receives from others. It doesn’t stop the cold sleepless nights, it doesn’t stop the restless dreams of the past love infiltrating the bereaved’s dreamscape.
Tighnari had died a year ago, perfectly normal by shortlife species standards, it had been a good age, by their standards. This was how Jiaoqiu tried to justify it at the very least. He was buried in their small garden, decorated with long dead Nilotpala Lotuses and Qingxin, the headstone was simple, carved by a young sculptor, mentored under the late architect’s son, Veritas, and had very simple text on it. Here lies Tighnari, beloved husband, father and friend . Also carved into the headstone, were various plants and other flora. Seeing it again, brought tears to Jiaoqiu eyes, and he crouched beside it.
This had become a regular ritual at this point, him just sitting here, talking to the gravesite, even bringing food with and just talking. He sometimes thought that he sometimes looked a little silly while doing it, but he honestly didn’t care. The garden was sort of off the beaten path, in an alcove below the tree where their home was, secluded, and quiet. Though he could almost imagine Tighnari giving him a look before bursting out laughing and then sprouting off onto tangent and Jiaoqiu would just listen while making them breakfast or even giving medicine to Collei when she would have flare-ups. He’d even joined in on their Genius Invocation sessions too, though mostly he just watched. This memory brought a smile to his face.
“Hey, ‘Nari. Do you remember the first time you took me to one of your Genius Invocation sessions? Hm, Cyno did a double take, I’m not sure if you remember, and he called me a tree. I must say, I didn’t exactly blame him, I did, and still kind of tower over you guys…” he trailed off as his eyes found the dish that was resting in his lap. “Hey… since it’s your birthday today… I made your favourite dish. I looked specifically for the edible mushrooms you like. I roasted them at the right temperature, put my cooking skills to good use,” he chuckled lightly and placed the leaf down on the raised earth.
No one would ever eat the food, Jiaoqiu knew that well, he even somehow ended up eating it himself. “Collei is doing well,” he murmured, “she came over the other day, just asking how I’ve been. Which was sweet of her, but I told her I’m fine. Though knowing you, you probably would’ve wanted me to tell her the truth. Hm, you’re kinda like my friend Feixiao in that sense. I just didn’t want to cause Collei too much trouble, as she’s quite old herself. I don’t want to over exert her.” Jiaoqiu’s ear twitched slightly at a slight movement, but he didn’t think it was anything particularly dangerous. “Recently, I’ve started wishing I had the same lifespan as you and Collei,” he whispered, ears sagging. “I know it’s ridiculous, but I just wish I wouldn’t have to live so much longer. It’s only been a year, but I still miss you terribly. I’m supposed to be aware of this, I’m supposed to be over you already. But I’m not.”
“Who said you have to be over someone, especially after a year?” Jiaoqiu jumped at Feixiao’s voice and he turned around. She smiled at him, and Moze could be seen off to the side. “I don’t know what versions of grief you’ve been fed, Jiaoqiu, but, grief doesn’t have a set manifestation. Sure there are those signs things, but you don’t necessarily go through them in order.” Jiaoqiu blinked his tears away and then gave the two a suspicious look.
“What are you doing here?” His voice came out uncharacteristically irritable, but Feixiao didn’t seem phased. Moze simply looked away.
“We-“
“I didn’t agree to this, I said we should leave him alone for the time being,” Moze interrupted. Jiaoqiu sent at grateful look towards Moze, but he just looked away.
“ We decided that since it’s Tighnari’s birthday, you’d need someone to talk to, since it’s still such a fresh wound. So we decided to come, “ Feixiao continued without issue and Moze groaned, pulling down his hood. Jiaoqiu, on the other hand, almost felt like crying again. Feixiao held out her hand. “Now come, let’s get inside. Nothing wrong with being out here, but, I feel being by the grave will only intensify things.” Jiaoqiu simply let himself be dragged inside, and Feixiao sat him down on the couch. Moze stood off to the side in a corner.
“I still think this is a bad idea,” Moze commented. “And that it’s better to leave him alone. But, I guess this is fine.” Feixiao smiled at him.
“Sometimes having people around helps, you know,” she commented. “Especially if it’s on such an important day such as this. I’m sure you know of that very well.” Jiaoqiu watched as Moze looked away.
“This a bad-“
“No, no. It’s… fine,” Jiaoqiu whispered. “It helps with the loneliness, at least.” Feixiao sent a triumphant look towards Moze who just scoffed. For a moment, it wasn’t even Feixiao and Moze there, but Tighnari and Collei, Collei heading off to go create arrowheads with Amber or something or other. He was himself, of course. His gaze travelled over to the small desk in the living room and he walked over to it, Feixiao and Moze following him like he might get lost. “This is where Tighnari and I would compare herbs, and come up with different combinations, such as sweeter tasting cough medicine. Though, we never did quite find a use for those Lotuses, but he never minded, he still loved those plants even if they weren’t useful. He… he always… he always said that they reminded him of my-“ something caught in his throat and Feixiao put her hand on his.
“This is when you realized you liked him, correct?” Her voice was soft, though Moze could be heard scoffing.
“Was there ever a realization? He was pretty damn obvious,” Moze responded, though he didn’t sound angry, there was amusement in his voice. Jiaoqiu’s ears twitched, and he let out a small chuckle, earning a smile from both Feixiao and Moze. “I’m honestly surprised Tighnari didn’t notice it earlier,” he added. “Jiaoqiu’s tail basically became a whirlwind around him.”
“But yeah, I realized I liked him,” Jiaoqiu murmured quietly. “Though, Tighnari’s smart, he probably figured out it himself.” He laughed to himself. “Though I’m not sure how I missed it myself. Everything was screaming my true feelings at me, and yet I was unaware of it.” He looked up, and then noticed Tighnari’s old bow. “He even tried to teach me archery at one point, which I wasn’t very good at. But he still tried. Once, on a past birthday of his, he told me about his favourite food, this particular set of edible mushrooms. Which… I made for him today. Since it’s his… special day…” his chest clenched up and he went quiet, looking at the interweaving pieces of twig. “I know he’ll never eat it again, but I just, can’t help it.”
“Look, Jiaoqiu.” Both Jiaoqiu and Feixiao turned their heads in surprise as Moze spoke up for the first time in a while. “I… know he’ll never eat it again… but, I’m sure that wherever he is, he still appreciates the gesture. I’ll admit I didn’t really like the guy, he seemed too… eccentric. But you’re also eccentric, so I guess, you two kind of completed each other,” he paused. “Fuck. How do I say this? Uh, I’m sure that wherever he… resides, he’s missing you just as much as you are with him.” Moze started retreating back into his corner, pulling his hood down and his voice starting increasing in velocity. “Fuck, I’m bad at this. What, I’m trying to say is that, I’m sure he like, appreciates the gesture of bringing him food every day. So.” Moze fully retreated back into the corner and Jiaoqiu let out an amused snort.
“That’s the most he’s ever spoken, at least, since he’s known me.” Jiaoqiu could almost hear Tighnari’s voice, and it made him smile. Tighnari would definitely have enjoyed that little speech from Moze if he were still alive, even if the latter was now hiding in his hood, blushing profusely. Jiaoqiu hummed at him.
“Thanks Mo, I appreciate it,” he teased. In the back of his mind, he could almost hear Tighnari chuckling with him. The thought made his heart hurt. Feixiao and Moze being here definitely helped, but it didn’t take away from the fact
The ghost of Tighnari followed him everywhere.
Not a literal ghost, Jiaoqiu wasn’t hallucinating, but Tighnari was always there in some form. Whether it’d be him thinking about his laugh if someone said a particularly funny joke, or a stray look bringing forward a flood of different memories, the kind that made his chest clench, the tears fall, the kind made him run for a hiding place so he didn’t burst into tears in public. It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, seeing as any longlife species could empathize with what the salmon fox was going through. Those who had no trouble moving on might not feel the same pain, but Jiaoqiu’s pain was evident in his appearance.
His fur had gone dull, and his eyes had dulled too, his tail had a constant sag to it and was shedding vigorously. He’d even taken to wearing black sometimes. All clear indicators of someone in mourning.
Other longlife species, those who didn’t understand, thought that he was being ridiculous, Tighnari was just a shortlife species. Those that did understand, gave him a wide berth, except for Feixiao and Moze, and with them being here, it did help. Feixiao was teasing Moze about his display earlier, but Jiaoqiu hardly heard them. He slowly looked up at the picture that had been taken of him and Tighnari on their wedding. It had been a small event, not a lot of people there. Tighnari liked it that way. His friends, Cyno, Kaveh and Alhaitham, had all made it and Jiaoqiu’s own friends, Tingyun, Feixiao and Moze had all been there. And then a few other stragglers as well, such as Stelle and Caelus and those other twins.
Small, he had decided, was how he liked it too.
Tighnari had been a vision in forest green, a stark contrast to his own red robes. It had been wonderful, Jiaoqiu had never felt more in love. The day had been perfect. Jiaoqiu hadn’t even thought about what likely would’ve been his first mistake, his fatal error in regards of Foxian culture.
A short while after birth, longlife species are told a very simple thought, merely a phrase or two. A warning, if you’d prefer that term. A warning to prevent them from experiencing the very same heartache that Jiaoqiu was at the current moment. That many would say he deserved, the many who didn’t understand. The phrase meant to warn them of the inevitable. The heartache-inducing inevitable.
“Listen child, be careful forming relationships with those of shortlife species. That only brings a lifetime ahead of strife, of a heartache I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemies. I can’t bare to watch you go through the heartache you would feel if you happened to love one of those shortlife species.”
But that’s just the thing, hm? Jiaoqiu thought to himself. You can’t police what the heart wants, or who your Soulmate turns out to be.
To some, loving Tighnari was Jiaoqiu’s first mistake, his fatal error.
To Jiaoqiu, Tighnari (and Collei) was the best thing to happen to him. He wouldn’t change anything, in fact, he’d go through it again and again.
And so, when Feixiao found Jiaoqiu motionless in his bed, a few years later after Collei had joined Celestia as well, and with no pulse, she smiled.
Jiaoqiu was finally at peace.