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Jiaoqiu had spent most of his working life moving in between the Luofu and Yaoqing divisions of the Xianzhou branch of the military. This was for no fault of the Luofu’s own, as he was quite aware that they had their own share of various healers and other medical professionals just already scattered about in the division and, for most of the time, Jiaoqiu himself was only there as a second opinion, or if they needed an extra hand if the wound in question ended up being a particular tricky matter. He was also quite well-versed in many different kinds of poisons as well, and sometimes they would need him to identify the offending one, so they could then identify the needed antidote.
But, there was one poison that Jiaoqiu could never identify without seemingly empathetically feeling the effects of the poison himself. The feeling was visceral, in that he could almost feel the very poison coursing throughout his frame, dulling every instinct, every pulse, leading to a lowered blood pressure, lethargy, trouble breathing, leading to eventually a catatonic state and then eventually death. He’d never been able to place why exactly the mention of the poison would get him into such a state, nor did mentioning it explain the sudden somewhat lethargic state he’d find himself in when it would be mentioned.
The feeling was so visceral in fact, that it almost felt like he would’ve ingested the would be anesthetic himself, because that was what the poison was actually meant to be used for. In small doses, it was simply another run-of-the-mill anesthetic, in large doses, what would be simple medicine, had now become a death sentence. The visceral feeling that he felt whenever the specific poison would be mentioned?
Was characteristic of a deadly dose.
And Jiaoqiu had no clue why, of every possible avenue that feeling like he’d ingested the poison himself could’ve taken, that it had taken the form of a deadly dose.
Of all avenues… a deadly dose.
That’s what intrigued him the most about his strange reaction to the mention of Tumbledust-
Immediately the feeling attacked him, and he slumped over into the box of Nilotpala Lotuses that he’d been absent mindedly looking at. Strange that, that he’d gone and zoned out while staring at the ancient lotuses, only recently rediscovered, or regrowable. Most thought that they had gone extinct, and Jiaoqiu had been a believer too until a dream had struck him one night, of a black fox and trees, the black fox looking down at a lilypad, caressing the yellow petals of the lotus on what would have been their ancient home. His tail had been wagging ever so slightly, and though his face had been obscured by his bob of hair, Jiaoqiu somehow remembered his eyes being brown and teal, not unlike a sandy coast meeting an ocean or even river.
“Nilotpala Lotuses are my favourite flowers,” the black fox in the dream had murmured, in a sort of softly amused tone, and Jiaoqiu had been able to feel the sort of secret bliss of whatever he and the black fox were in the dream, as his waking self still hadn’t quite figured it out, though, neither had his dream self. The only thing that he really knew about the dream was that, he seemed to know this strange black fox, somehow. Though, the dream had also sort of seemed off , like the black fox had been talking to a different version of Jiaoqiu and not this Jiaoqiu, or as he currently was. It was extremely confusing, all things considered, but… if what Fu Xuan had told him a while ago was anything to go off, that certainly would be possible that the black fox was talking to a different version of himself. “They kinda match your eye colour as well,” the black fox had continued, to whatever version of Jiaoqiu he was talking to, and a giggle escaped him then, and Jiaoqiu felt his heart rate increase.
Whatever they had been in the dream, they’d clearly been close.
The only thing was, the dream had never given him a name.
No name for the mysterious black fox, that Jiaoqiu had been dreaming about for a while.
His ears pricked with the ghost of a name, but nothing substantial, merely three breathy breezes, as if feeling out the syllables of whatever the black fox would be called. In all honesty, it could have simply been some cheeky wind sprite messing with him. It wasn’t impossible, at least, in his opinion. But something about that specific dream, ignoring the obvious mysterious black fox issue, was that it had made Jiaoqiu believe that Nilotpala Lotuses were able to be grown again, for some weird reason that he was not privy too.
Jiaoqiu lifted his head weakly, as if feeling all the strength seeping away from him, and turned his head to look at one of the lotuses. It was as yellow as it could be, and despite being picked, it was still as plump as a healthy Lotus should be. The plants themselves didn’t have any medicinal use, but they could be a good alternative for providing a would be patient with fluids if needed. It almost felt like he would need fluids too, with how dehydrated his reaction to the mention of or even, apparently, thought of Tumbledust was making him. Jiaoqiu straightened himself and assessed his situation, though he’d never actually ingested the poison himself. His symptoms weren’t all that bad this time, and it would probably be ‘cured’ by simply eating the lotus. It probably would be better to get a second opinion, but they’d probably just think him insane for what was essentially just somatic symptoms or even just think that he was simply just anxiously manifesting his symptoms, seeing as, logically, he’d never actually ingested the poison himself.
In all reality, these were just a ‘ghost’ of symptoms, idiopathic, if he were to use a medical term. But, these symptoms were too specific to not be caused by anything, right? Why of all things, was he experiencing the symptoms of a deadly dose? The deadly being the weird part here. Wouldn’t it make more sense to be having symptoms of a milder dose of the poison?
Honestly though, the feeling was so visceral that it almost felt like a memory-
A sharp, slicing pain shot across Jiaoqiu’s abdomen and immediately ‘woke’ him up. He glanced down at his stomach region, and yet, it remained undamaged, no tears or blood being seen anywhere on him. His abdomen was still in agony however, and he stumbled onto the floor. Though the slicing pain felt slightly disconnected from his frame, and the fact no actual damage had been done, he still curled up on the floor like a woman with particularly bad cramping and curled in on himself, trying to endure the phantom pain that had suddenly come upon him.
Distant laughter, and yet, not of this world. Harsh, broken, evil. Careless. Like some long lost nightmare. Horrendously joyful glares. A dark toned voice gloating.
Nausea. Vision blurring. Pain.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
Excruciating pain. Lethargy. Becoming harder breathe. A blur of black and green. Cold. Wet. Mangled sobbing. Sobbing.
Someone… sobbing…
Jiaoqiu inhaled sharply and seemingly returned to reality. The phantom pain leaving him like it was simply a breeze, and his body returned to normal functioning. He felt out of breath, possibly winded, when all he had been doing previously had been staring at the lotuses, only to suddenly be struck with all these strange feelings. He quickly got to his feet and brushed the dirt off of himself and then looked up, finding himself staring into the barely disguised concerned look in Feixiao’s eyes. He jumped when he realized, and blinked, looking around quickly as if caught in something unsavory, but eventually the icy glass covering Feixiao’s gaze shattered as her face gave way to concern.
“Jiaoqiu, we have to talk,” her voice was generally calm but bathed in worry, but also authoritative. “Hm, not here though, follow me to the Seat of Divine Foresight.” Jiaoqiu pricked his ears.
“The Seat of Divine Foresight? We’re going to the Luofu?” He then smiled at her. “What, do they need me to identify another poison for them? I mean sure, I can do that, but I must warn them about that certain poison That Shall Not Be Named.” Feixiao threw him a look, but it wasn’t the jovial, teasing one he was used to. This one was serious. And, well, concerned, but still serious. Surprised by Feixiao’s sudden seriousness, Jiaoqiu went quiet, and simply followed her there.
It wasn’t long before the two of them had arrived at the Seat, and it was then that Jiaoqiu noticed the green-haired man sitting in a chair in the Seat, talking somewhat jovially to Jing Yuan, the snake around his shoulders was dozing lightly. Feixiao, on the other hand, walked up to the other General and exchanged a few pleasantries, before nodding at Jing Yuan. “I’ve brought him here. Though might I ask who this is?” She added curiously. Jiaoqiu noticed how Jing Yuan brightened considerably and then held out his hand for the green-haired man to take.
“This is Baizhu,” Jing Yuan responded, tone almost childlike, causing Jiaoqiu to chuckle a little, causing the General, as well as Baizhu, to his head, and give him a small nod. “I found him again the other day after a training session went awry, and I must say, I’m grateful for that training session. Otherwise, I might never have known. Though, I suspect we might have another case of the same going on.”
“Huh?” Jiaoqiu responded, blinking. Baizhu’s pink gaze then grew amused as he looked at him, before he grew thoughtful.
“If Feixiao’s words are true, that does seem to indeed be the case,” Baizhu said, sparking interest in the white snake around his shoulders, it lifting its head. “I mean, if it’s anything like me and Yuan. Do you mind if I ask you something, Jiaoqiu?”
“Sure, I don’t see why not,” he replied with a shrug and Baizhu smiled. He turned to stroke his fingers down the snake, to its obvious annoyance and hummed.
“Say Jiaoqiu, does the name ‘Tighnari’, ring a bell?”
Tighnari…
The name echoed around Jiaoqiu’s ears. Tighnari. The name had three syllables, sounding similar to Tig-na-ri, and the breathy, wordless voice that had seemingly been teasing him earlier and when he’d had that dream about the black fox, seemed a little louder, and he could make out a slight hint of words in the otherwise indecipherable breathy air. “Tighnari…” the name rolled off of his tongue, coming seeming easily to him, as if he’d spoken the very word multiple times before. “Nari…” he tried a shorter version of the name, and the effect was the same. That very similar feeling of him having said this shortened version of the name multiple times before. “Tighnari… Nari…” It strangely felt… right , the name, and as if on cue, a vision of the mysterious black fox appeared before him. The black fox was holding him, no, not just the black fox, Tighnari . The black fox and the name Tighnari just seemed to go together, it was almost too perfect.
Everything was telling him that the black fox from his dreams was named Tighnari, it was too perfect to be just a fluke.
Jiaoqiu decided then to call the black fox Tighnari, as it seemed right to.
The vision of the mysterious Tighnari was almost as visceral as his reaction to Tumbledust. It was nothing more than a vision, but he could feel Tighnari’s arms trembling, his expression was of horror, though Jiaoqiu’s vision had become blurred to the point that Tighnari was nothing more that a splotch of black against a dark gray background. The vision, with how visceral it was, almost felt like a flashback than really a vision, but Jiaoqiu knew that Tighnari, at least this version of him, was only a fragment of the vision, or memory, or whatever it could be considered. Tighnari then opened his mouth as if to say something but he was cut off by Baizhu putting a hand on Jiaoqiu’s shoulder.
“Jiaoqiu? Teyvat to Jiaoqiu?” He was saying, waving his hand in front of him. When Jiaoqiu blinked, clearly back to reality, Baizhu sighed and stood back. “I do apologize, I wasn’t aware that mentioning that name would cause you such a reaction, and yet I must still ask, does it ring a bell?” Jiaoqiu’s ear twitched and he looked at him.
“It…” Jiaoqiu paused, noticing how his heart clenched with some kind of guilt. The feeling was new, and he certainly hadn’t felt it before in his dreams with Tighnari, or the black fox he’d decided to call Tighnari. “…I… Nari…” He looked up at Baizhu. “It… does. Strangely,” he murmured out eventually, to a small nod from Baizhu.
“Generals, I think it’s become crystal clear what’s been happening here,” Baizhu stated at Jing Yuan and Feixiao. “You have me and Yuan as a case study, and now you have Jiaoqiu experiencing this. Feixiao, you mentioned that Jiaoqiu has been having moments of lethargy and general tiredness, and then also moments of extreme pain, am I correct in this assumption?” Feixiao nodded and glance over at Jiaoqiu. “Then I think it’s very possible- Hm? What’s that Changsheng?” Jiaoqiu’s ears pricked against his will as he heard the snake around Baizhu’s neck let out a hiss. “Wardance Ceremony? Invasion? What are you on about?” He responded as if he could understand the snake’s hisses, pink eyes narrowing in confusion. “…Hoolay?”
Hoolay…
Distorted evil laughter, careless glares, low voice as if growling.
Pain. Pain. Pain.
That sharp, slicing phantom pain raked across his abdomen again and Jiaoqiu fell out of his chair with a loud thud. His breaths came out loud, ragged and harsh, as if his very lungs had been ripped out of him, and he was struggling to breathe. He seemed to be phasing in and out of a vision as well, him in reality, and then him in the vision, bleeding from gaping wounds in his abdomen, like some bad horror movie. This time, the pain didn’t go away as quickly as it had appeared and it was torturous. A large dark shadow at the edge of his vision, cold eyes glaring down at him, writhing in pain, everything was obscured, everything was murky, he felt like giving up. All he felt was pain, and lethargy, and his muscles were locking up and there was just pain.
It was so visceral. It was so real.
“This is why I brought him here in the first place,” Feixiao murmured. “He can’t work like this. If we can’t find him, he’ll suffer like this for aeons. Do you have any ideas?”
“Hm, if Jing Yuan found me when he went to Bubu, maybe Jiaoqiu needs to leave here as well?” Baizhu suggested, and Jiaoqiu’s ears pricked. Were they letting him go? Or were they doing something else? Were they figuring out a way for him to figure out these weird reactions he kept having? Jing Yuan shared a look with Feixiao.
“I fear I’m out of the loop here,” Jiaoqiu spoke up for the first time, causing the other three to glance over at him. “You haven’t quite explained why exactly I’m here, or why Baizhu asked me if I knew the name Tighnari. I mean, I would like to be let in on why exactly you’ve brought me here,” he said with a smile. “I mean, if it was some big secret regarding me, you likely wouldn’t have brought me here in the first place. Seeing as I’m here, you want me to be let in on the conversation, do you not? If not, I can always leave, I can make myself busy with the chefs or whoever really needs me.”
“Oh, how rude of us,” Jing Yuan said with a slight laugh. He turned towards Feixiao. “You brought him all the way here, and he had no clue why. I fear I might have gotten a bit… distracted.” He glanced over at Baizhu who simply smiled in response, and Feixiao, for once, looked like her regular self, with an amused smile on her face. Jing Yuan turned his gaze back on Jiaoqiu and his tone got slightly more serious. “It’s recently come to my attention that a lot of us might have lived before. In a different time and place mind you, but that we have lived once before, maybe even for even more lives than just two. I first learnt of this from Yanqing, as he believes he might have lived before. Hm, and he may have even been with that Yunli in that life. Strange though, that he considers that improbable now, but I digress. He’s also told me that you’ve gone to Fu Xuan with similar concerns.”
“Well,” Jiaoqiu said. “It wasn’t necessarily about past life concerns. It was in order to explain weird dreams I’d been having and about these weird phantom pains I get.”
“Hm, what were your dreams like?” Jing Yuan asked, expression unreadable, and Jiaoqiu blinked.
“Well, uh, I’ve been having dreams of a black f- Tighnari. Or at least, I think his name is Tighnari. I seem… close to this Tighnari, but I can’t decipher how close or why. He… mentions Nilotpala Lotuses sometimes. He… likes them. He has these brown and teal eyes. He has an amused tone in many of the dreams…” Jiaoqiu noticed Baizhu quirk an eyebrow, and glance at the white snake around his neck. “Once, in a dream, he took my hand… I felt… happy. Wait… are you saying I knew a Tighnari in a past life?” Baizhu sent a look Jing Yuan’s way and the latter nodded. Jiaoqiu had hardly noticed that his tail had started wagging.
“We can’t speak for everyone,” Baizhu said simply. “But based on the signs, it’s possible. Though, to find out the truth of that, you’d have to seek the answers for yourself. Which is why…”
Jiaoqiu didn’t hear Baizhu’s next words. A strange, yet warm hope was coursing through him, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Somehow, the possibility that he had known a Tighnari in his past life, was causing a weird warm sensation to pass through him, but then was that guilt again, and he couldn’t describe it. Yet another vision of Tighnari appeared before him then. The black fox from his dreams, was reaching out, as if to caress to his cheek, but Tighnari wasn’t actually there, saying he existed at all, and yet it felt too real to just be merely a vision.
But… knowing a Tighnari in a past life didn’t explain his weird reaction to a poison, and his phantom pains.
Unless Tighnari would’ve been the cause, but Jiaoqiu highly doubted that, as if the Tighnaris in the visions he’d had where Tighnari was horrified were anything to go on, Tighnari hadn’t been the cause.
It wouldn’t have matched the cold feeling of tears from the vision Tighnari either.
“That’s why we’re giving you a break,” Feixiao’s voice cut through the vision, though it still took Jiaoqiu a moment to register. He looked over at her. “Just to see if you can find him out there in the world, and finally return to some sense of normalcy. Before you attempt to retort, you’ve been working for the both of us for a long time, so either way you need a break.” Jiaoqiu looked at her and nodded.
“I suppose that seems like a good idea,” he agreed and then walked out of the Seat
Jiaoqiu soon found himself on the streets of Liyue, looking for anyone who might seem similar to the black fox from his dreams. So far, he’d found no one, and he was now simply browsing the various shops directly out of the military camp. There was a small café, a flower shop and a few miscellaneous shops and stores scattered about the place as well. A small girl with green hair was helping a large, muscled silver-haired man with some orange flowers that Jiaoqiu recognized as Mourning Flowers. The two of them both looked foreign and looked vaguely like they were from Sumeru. The silver-haired man thanked the girl and then walked off. On the other side of the road were a group of teenagers all huddled around some sort of device and giggling about something that Jiaoqiu didn’t care to pay attention to. Someone had also seemingly graffitied the side of the flower shop in nonsensical characters, though Jiaoqiu found himself walking over toward the flower shop as if out of habit.
The flower shop was neatly tucked into a corner on the street and neatly decorated, aside from the graffiti, with various plants and herbs, most of which Jiaoqiu recognized, as they were mostly Liyuean, which was not unusual as they were in Liyue. He could the voices of the young girl and another customer behind him, but he wasn’t really paying attention to their conversation. Instead, Jiaoqiu’s nose picked up on the scent of a different kind of flower.
A flower he distinctly remembered.
A flower he recalled was part of an antidote for the poison he couldn’t name.
An ancient plant, not unlike Nilotpala Lotuses
Qingxin.
Jiaoqiu’s eyes found the white flowers immediately, known for their multiple heads and single stalk. Known for their yellowish green stalks and lack of need for a lot of water. He could tell that the Qingxin had only freshly bloomed, as its smell was quite strong. Jiaoqiu trotted over to the flowers, much like a bee would, and gazed at them. The Qingxin was easily the most cared for thing in the garden surrounding the flower shop, as the flowers were practically manicured. They were bright, strong, and seemingly made in a way that only he would’ve liked.
“I’ve always been quite fond of Qingxin,” the voice was his, but seemingly on another plain of reality. Distant, and yet so clear. The statement was merely a memory, one so vivid, he felt as if he was reliving it himself. Tighnari was nowhere in sight, but he still somehow felt his presence there. “They’re quite hardy little things, growing up there in the mountains. Though, their cooking properties are also quite intriguing.” Jiaoqiu chuckled a little at the memory of his own voice, and even now, he still quite liked that particular ‘quirk’ of the plants. He reached out to touch the plant, and it was the correct softness, which was surprising.
It seemed like whoever had meticulously grown them had unintentionally grown them in such a way that he would like it.
Or perhaps it had been intentional?
But then again, only one would know every single detail, would they not? Only…
“J-Jiaoqiu?”
That voice.
Shocked, trembling, on the verge of tears. At least, that’s what it sounded like.
“Please, Archons, Great Lesser Lord Kusanali, please… l-let it be you…”
More trembling, fluctuating tone as if trying not to cry. Was that a sniffle?
“Jiao… Jiao… J-Jiao…”
That nickname…
“Is that so, Jiao?”
Jiaoqiu looked up from the flowers.
The Foxian’s eyes were contorted in some sort of mental pain, darkening his brown and teal gaze. Brown and teal… “Jiao?” The Foxian tried again. “Please tell me you remember me, please. Is it really you J-Jiao? A-Are you really here?” The Foxian reached out to touch Jiaoqiu and when he realized that Jiaoqiu was in fact real he started tearing up. “Jiao…” Jiaoqiu met the Foxian’s eyes and suddenly he was on the floor.
Jiaoqiu could feel himself being jostled around, but he couldn’t really see anything. He just felt pain. Pain, pain and more pain. He was bleeding out of a deep gash in his stomach, which didn’t help the feeling of the poison coursing throughout him. Done in a moment of desperation, anything to help them fight off that Borisin leader. But it had been too much. Even thinking about moving made him feel nauseous, and he was losing blood fast, causing it to pool around him. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and he couldn’t move. He just lay there quietly on the ground, bleeding profusely and he’d begun to cough out blood at this point as well, though any form of help was already long gone
It had been a stupid idea, merely a chance to put an end to things, but what other choice did he have?
It wasn’t long before another bout of coughing attacked him, expelling blood as soon as it entered his lungs, metallic, and oh so disgusting, he’d probably paled from blood loss at that point. The world was growing darker and darker and he could no longer tell what was wall and what was himself. He could no longer move, his lower extremities having long gone dead from the poison, and his upper limbs wouldn’t be too much longer. The poison was affecting his sight and he’d lost all semblance of time. How long had he just been lying there, bleeding out, without a sign of help? A morbid tiredness was threatening to overcome him, and Jiaoqiu was quickly losing the battle, pain slowly dulling, his breathing becoming more laboured, so many things working against him at once, poison… blood loss…
What he wouldn’t give to see him one last time…
Him…
His… Nari… His… Tighnari…
Wait, Tighnari.
As if on cue, the black fox appeared in the vision, racing over to where Jiaoqiu was lying quiet on the ground. He cupped his face, and strangely enough, this Tighnari felt the realest out of all the visions of Tighnari. Jiaoqiu could feel Tighnari’s hands on his face, cold to the touch, or maybe Jiaoqiu was just burning up. “Jiao?! What on earth happened?!” Tighnari was saying, before his eyes traveled down the contour of Jiaoqiu’s frame and he noticed the wounds. Tighnari paled, and his voice grew more frantic. “Jiao? Can you hear me? Jiaoqiu? Jiaoqiu, please! Make any sign that you can hear me!” Jiaoqiu moved his head as much as he could, and nuzzled Tighnari’s arm. Tighnari’s eyes snapped towards him and they showed a variety of emotions. “Jiao..?”
“…Na…. ri….” Jiaoqiu murmured as if his voice didn’t sound like he’d put it through a meat grinder, and Tighnari’s ears dropped in horror. “N…Na.. ri…”
“Yes. Y-yes, I’m right here Jiao, I’m right here. H-Hang in there? Help… is on its way. H-Hoolay was defeated.” Jiaoqiu was about answer him but he started coughing again. This time the blood was accompanied by some sort of saliva, and Tighnari paled. “Jiao..qiu?” His voice cracked, and Jiaoqiu smiled at him, that morbid tiredness slowly winning the battle. “Jiao!”
“Nah…ri…” Jiaoqiu murumured, breathing laboured and harsh, almost ragged, and his voice sounded whispery. He weakly lifted his hand to stroke Tighnari’s cheek, and as if that had set something off, a singular tear fell down his cheek, and landed cold over his heart. “Hnnng… heh.. N…ari… don’t cry…” Jiaoqiu almost hiccuped, and his breathing had become short and quick. Breathing hurt. His vocal cords were refusing to obey him at this point as well. It wasn’t long after that, that Jiaoqiu’s hand flopped back down from its position on Tighnari’s cheek, him no longer feeling anything in it, but Tighnari caught it.
“Jiao?” Tighnari’s voice was barely a whisper, and despite the morbid tiredness creeping into his fingers, Jiaoqiu could still hear it as clear as day. There were two other, further, noises in the room, but he could only hear Tighnari.
“…ri…. I… lo…love… you, …Nari…” was all that Jiaoqiu could muster as a response, finally succumbing to the morbid tiredness.
“Jiao? Jiao?!” Tighnari whisper-screeched, but Jiaoqiu’s ears could no longer hear. More cold tears fell onto Jiaoqiu’s motionless frame, and Tighnari buried his head into Jiaoqiu’s chest, basically sobbing at this point. “I-I… I love you too, Jiaoqiu…” he murmured eventually.
I love you too, Jiaoqiu
Those five words rang in Jiaoqiu’s head as he returned from the flashback, staring at the black Foxian. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been zoned out, but the Foxian seemed to have calmed himself down in the time he was out. He still looked like he was being mentally tortured however, and his brown and teal eyes were clouded over with conflicting emotions. The Foxian bore a striking resemblance to Tighnari, and the voice was so similar.
But, who was he kidding?
This was definitely Tighnari, he just wasn’t sure why some part of him still wasn’t all that sure. Was it the fact that he’d found him basically immediately, or was it some other reason? Either way, he looked down at the Foxian. “…Nari?” He asked, hesitantly, and the Foxian seemed to go through a whirlwind of emotions before finally settling on what Jiaoqiu considered happy tears.
“Jiao,” Tighnari sounded somewhat breathless, “you remember me. You remember me!” His tail started wagging incessantly. “I’ve… I… I’ve found you again… I…” his voice started wobbling and Jiaoqiu was suddenly hugged. “Jiaoqiu…” Jiaoqiu felt himself smile at him.
“Why yes, you’ve found me again. It is I in all my glory,” Jiaoqiu joked, as all the memories came rushing back. Tighnari lifted his head immediately and glared at him.
“You’re joking about this?” Tighnari asked with a playful punch, that Jiaoqiu dodged with ease. “That’s just like you, isn’t it?” He chuckled slightly, and Jiaoqiu felt his tail wag.
“Hey, I made you laugh, I think that’s something good, is it not?” Tighnari rolled his eyes and wiped them.
“I suppose, but I still hate you.”
“That’s not what you said in the flashback, Nari,” Jiaoqiu responded and Tighnari playfully glared at him. Tighnari’s expression, however, then softened in a way that only Jiaoqiu would ever see.
“I’ve longed for you to call me that again,” he murmured. “I’ve missed your jokes, I’ve missed you .”
“But… you’ve only known that I exist for all of five minutes? Unless you’re talking for your past self?” Tighnari deadpanned at him, and Jiaoqiu felt that he’d missed him looking at him like that. That sort of playful, yet flat expression.
“Jiao, I’ve known that I reincarnated for a while now. I just wasn’t sure if you would’ve been too. I’ve wished for it of course, I’ve wanted you to be reincarnated with me, but I wasn’t sure.”
“Well I am.”
“That you are, and I couldn’t be happier,” he said with a smile. “I’ve missed you Jiao.”
“I’ve missed you too, Nari. And I must say I’m looking forward to continuing this new life with you too.”