Chapter Text
The rain drummed against the polished marble of the Akademiya’s courtyard, a steady rhythm that filled the silence between them. Alhaitham stood beneath the overhanging awning of the House of Daena, arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on the distant cityscape beyond the rain-slicked streets. The air was thick with the scent of wet stone and the lingering fragrance of freshly turned pages from the library behind him. He didn’t seem to mind the cold that curled through the air, nor did he pay any attention to the way his cloak absorbed the fine mist drifting in from the open archways. Across from him, Kaveh leaned against one of the intricately carved pillars, his expression set in something between exasperation and fatigue, though there was a restless energy in the way his fingers tapped idly against his forearm. The architect’s golden eyes flickered to Alhaitham, narrowed slightly, before turning toward the rain with a resigned sigh.
"You always do this," Kaveh muttered, his voice carrying a slight edge of frustration. "Standing there with that insufferable air of superiority. As if you have everything figured out."
Alhaitham didn’t react immediately, merely shifting his weight slightly as if considering whether responding was even worth the effort. "It’s not superiority," he said eventually, his voice calm and deliberate. "It’s observation. Something you might find useful if you weren’t so occupied with dramatics."
Kaveh’s lips parted, a retort forming, but before he could unleash whatever argument he had been building, a soft voice cut through the tension. "You two never change, do you?" Nahida’s gentle, lilting voice carried easily despite the rain, as if the storm itself bent to accommodate her presence.
Both men turned toward the figure standing at the edge of the courtyard, a delicate figure clad in white and green, her eyes carrying that perpetual look of knowing and kindness. Nahida smiled softly as she approached, the hem of her dress brushing against the damp stone. "I was hoping to find some respite here, but it seems I’ve walked into another one of your… debates." There was a teasing lilt to her tone, but beneath it lay something else—an understanding that neither Kaveh nor Alhaitham could brush aside.
Kaveh straightened, running a hand through his damp hair, clearly flustered. "It’s not a debate," he said quickly, his gaze darting to Alhaitham as if daring him to contradict. "Just… a difference in perspective."
Alhaitham merely arched a brow, his silence an obvious rebuttal. Nahida tilted her head, watching them with an expression of quiet amusement. "Perspective is valuable," she mused, stepping closer, her presence like a pocket of calm within the storm. "But it’s important to recognize when it becomes an obstacle rather than a tool."
Kaveh groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Great. Now I’m being lectured by a god."
Nahida giggled softly, the sound light and unassuming, yet carrying an undeniable weight of wisdom. "No, no. Just a friend offering advice." Her gaze lingered on Alhaitham then, searching, assessing, though her expression remained warm. "And you, Alhaitham? Do you think perspective can be a hindrance?"
Alhaitham met her gaze without hesitation, his expression unreadable. "Perspective is inherently biased," he said. "Which is why one must collect as much information as possible to make a logical decision."
Kaveh rolled his eyes. "There he goes again. Everything reduced to data and analysis. You’d think he was a machine, not a person."
Nahida observed their interplay with a thoughtful expression, her small hands clasping gently in front of her. "And yet, emotions are data too, in a way," she mused. "Aren’t they just responses to stimuli, shaped by past experiences and external factors?"
Kaveh blinked at her, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected agreement with Alhaitham’s usual logic. Alhaitham, for his part, gave a small nod of approval, though there was a faint glimmer of something in his eyes—perhaps amusement, perhaps curiosity. "Exactly," he said, glancing briefly at Kaveh. "It’s simply a matter of interpreting them correctly."
Kaveh scoffed, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Well, if you're both so convinced, why don't you try applying that logic to something practical? Like dealing with actual people instead of theories in books."
Nahida’s lips twitched in a subtle smile. "That’s a fair challenge," she said, turning to Alhaitham with a glint of mischief in her eyes. "What do you think, Alhaitham? Would you say you're good at understanding people?"
Alhaitham considered this, his expression carefully neutral. "I understand enough," he replied.
Kaveh snorted. "Spoken like someone who doesn't want to admit he has no clue."
Nahida giggled again, stepping forward until she was standing between them, her gaze flitting back and forth as if she could see something neither of them could. "Understanding people is... complicated," she admitted softly. "It's more than logic or emotion. It's about connection. Something you both have, even if you refuse to acknowledge it."
Kaveh stiffened slightly, his eyes darting away, while Alhaitham remained still, though his fingers twitched slightly at his sides. The silence stretched between them, filled only by the soft patter of rain against the stone.
Nahida watched them patiently, her gaze filled with something resembling fondness. "You don't have to admit it," she said gently. "But it's there. Just like the rain—whether you acknowledge it or not, it still falls."
Kaveh let out a sharp breath, shaking his head with a tired smile. "Always the poet, aren’t you?"
Nahida shrugged playfully, her eyes twinkling. "I try."
Alhaitham glanced at Kaveh then, something unreadable in his expression. "Perhaps you should listen more closely," he said quietly, his voice lacking its usual sharpness. "There’s merit in observation, after all."
Kaveh opened his mouth to retort but paused, something in Alhaitham’s tone giving him pause. Instead, he looked away, his fingers curling slightly against his sleeves. "Yeah, well... maybe I should."
Nahida beamed, pleased by the smallest of progress. "See? Even the rain stops eventually," she said, gesturing toward the sky, where the clouds were beginning to lighten, the downpour softening to a gentle drizzle. "And so do arguments—when you're ready."
Neither of them spoke, but something in the air had shifted. The rain had washed away the sharp edges of their words, leaving behind something quieter, something unspoken but understood.
Nahida offered them both a small smile before turning toward the library entrance. "Come inside," she said gently. "There's tea waiting, and I'm sure the books will appreciate the company."
Kaveh hesitated, his gaze lingering on Alhaitham for a moment longer before he sighed and followed, his footsteps echoing against the damp stone. Alhaitham remained where he was, watching the retreating figure of the Lesser Lord before his gaze finally settled on Kaveh.
Without a word, he stepped forward, the rain easing around him as he followed inside.