Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Zandik still could barely believe that he was here.

He has heard of the possibility to win holidays from competitions, and be able to relax in luxurious spots with no charge. He just never thought that he would be one to win such a thing, if only speaking from a mathematical perspective.

Perhaps he should thank the teacher of his that convinced him to sign up for that competition. He really wouldn't have done so on his own.

Really, without him, he wouldn't currently be in one of the most expensive resorts in Fontaine, sorting away his belongings in his own room.

Zandik waved away the thought, deciding that currently he should focus on more present matters.

For one, he was thinking of looking around the area, seeing if there was anything in proximity that interested him– he wasn't familiar with Fontaine, after all.

After making sure everything was put away, the student looked over his single-bed room one last time, and headed out, still wearing his
Akademiya uniform.

He walked through the first floor of the resort, which housed a cafeteria, currently filled with a fair amount of people waiting for their upcoming dinner. He then ventured outside, to the wooden terrace, down some stairs, and Zandik was already facing the water.

Really, the resort was one of the most extravagant ones if only because it was so close to the water, giving a very easy access to the beaches. Although one had to also admit the grandness of the main building– it reaching a handful of stories, built from a mixture of bricks and planks, everything painted soft colours that matched the sea and the clouds. Perhaps the perfect realisation of an idealistic Fontainian resort.

While the beach right in front of the building was awfully clean and pristine, this late in the evening, not a soul was seen there. The sun was low, and the tide was calm, quietly washing over the white sand and the few scattered shells and stone.

The beach extended quite far from the resort to both right and left, and it curled along the solid land of pine forests, everything disappearing along the horizon.

The evening was calm, but rather lonesome: not even a single bird flew in the sky, or a crab skittered away at the sound of footsteps.

Zandik sighed and then began to walk along the water through the beach, keeping his eyes mostly down.

Although his mind would very easily go back to academics, he did try to force himself to relax and rest.

He was only going to be here for a week, after all, he should cherish it as much as possible. Freedom like this didn’t come often for him, especially in his type of family.

There was also that upcoming expedition almost right after his holiday to the forests and the ruin guards hidden away in the jungles– he’ll probably be awfully busy during it, with no time to rest.

Not that the student really minded: he didn’t enrol to the Akademiya to pass the time or go to parties. Knowledge was what he was after, nothing more, nothing less.

But, he was also simply a man, and Zandik really couldn’t ignore the fact that he had to succumb to his human nature, even if it meant taking a break from his favourite activities.

He returned to the resort some time later, the sun barely visible now. Zandik ordered simple dinner and ate it by his own in the first floor, the chattering people being the ever present white noise that seemed to follow him everywhere, giving him a faint sense of melancholy.

The student returned to his room then, going straight to bed, falling asleep quickly.

Zandik wakes up later than he would usually– somehow his body already forgetting the usual schedule he awoke with in the Akademiya.

He lays in his bed longer than he's used to, running over the possible activities he could possibly occupy himself with for the next few days. He remembers there being some miniature library in the resort– perhaps it would contain something that he would be interested in.

There were also those tours around the local areas and points of interest… Then again, they were quite expensive, and his budget here was only meant to be spent on the necessities and food.

With no clear objective for the day, Zandik decides to clean himself up, and then dress in the few other clothes he had brought with himself beside the Akademiya uniform.

It is in shorts and a buttoned shirt he leaves his room, heading for the ground floor, to the cafeteria, to get his breakfast.

After he is finished, he decides to head for the miniature library of the resort, adjusting his expectations, remembering that nothing can compare to Sumeru’s sheer size of collection of knowledge.

Yet he finds himself lost, seeing no map of the building anywhere, he decides to catch and ask one of the workers for directions.

It is a weird and obviously Mondstadtian staff member, dressed like every other, with a tag reading: Aimee, that he met in one of the terraces, that gives him directions.

Apparently, the library is tucked away in some obscure far corner of the building, so no wonder he didn’t find it.

Zandik thanks for the information, for which he receives a smile and a nod, and they split ways, both heading in different directions.

But the student has to turn his head when he hears a high-pitched yelp from behind him– the worker was now sitting on the planks of the terrace, looking frightened of the grass, as if it was poisonous or deadly in some way. Or that even the smallest of contact with it could kill.

The man decides to pay no attention to the incident, one goal in his mind.

Soon enough, he finds himself in an absurdly small room barely earning the title of a library, where he decides to search the shelves for a bit to find something.

He doesn’t try too much of course, leaving in no time at all with a small novel in his hand, by the name of “The Sorrows of Young Wilhelm”, he decides to head for the sea, to the beaches, expecting to find some kind of peaceful area to read.

When he leaves the building, he instantly gets hit by the overwhelming heat and light of the sun, which makes him frown, even though he gets used to it pretty soon.

Looking down, to the sand and the beach, he sees a sea of people occupying too much space for Zandik’s taste, hence he finds a free spot on the wooden deck by the resort, under a big umbrella, where there barely is a crowd.

For a while, he simply leans on the railing of the deck, mind weirdly blank as he looks into the glistening sea, almost wishing to see something extraordinary. Yet, as expected, nothing happens– the water sparkles all the same, and the waves keep coming, having their moment near the shore, before disappearing into whispering foam.

Sometimes his gaze wanders, and at some point it finds one of the few  other figures on the deck, this one standing out to him like a sore thumb– how hadn't he noticed before?

The said figure was a lounging man, turned slightly towards the sea, fanning himself with an awfully Liyueian fan, all while casually reading some paper.

He sat alone, yet looked like he was perfectly contempt at his lonesome, like it wasn’t a possible flaw or minus, but simply, the way he existed. Like his whole character was big enough to fill in space meant for multiple people with one body.

Zandik had to admit after a full minute of staring that he was entranced by the figure– if only because of his odd way of dressing.

The man was fully covered in clothing, barely any skin showing through the fabric, in a colour close to black, which added to his already inky hair spilling to his shoulders. Yet, somehow, coupled with fashioned silver jewellery and silver glasses, the man looked not like someone fit for a funeral, but like an aristocrat dressed in the finest of clothing.

Forgetting his manners, he kept staring at the stranger, right until a woman– another tourist –came up to the man.

A breath caught in Zandik’s throat, his eyes examining the picture of the two strangers chatting idly.

The man was not letting his smile fall when he spoke, now having put down both the fan and the paper, focusing on the other person. The woman tried to reciprocate with her own smile, yet with every sentence of his, her expression faltered, broke.

Perhaps… that man was like him, not–

With a couple more exchanged words, the woman left, looking displeased and clutching her bag, heading for the beach.

Zandik sighed with relief, surprising himself with his own reaction.

While the man in black cast one final look at the leaving woman, before slowly finding his gaze fixed on the perplexed student in the distance, who was currently covering his mouth, lost in thought.

Zandik only notices the returned staring a few moments later, and instantly gets spooked, although trying his best at suppressing most of the physical evidence.

He gets a quiet laugh from afar at that, and a smile from the interesting stranger at the other side of the deck.

Still, he takes that miniature interaction as a sign to move on, and change his activities. Perhaps even busy himself with the book in his hand, that he had such a hard time finding?

The student leaves the railing, instead finding a lounge chair under shade, in a calmer corner, where he sits down and cracks open the book, stuffing away the most recent encounter and focusing on the words on the yellowed papers.

Time passes, the sun slowly makes strides through the sky, its light puncturing the rare clouds, and late morning soon becomes the afternoon.

The voices near the sea barely quiet, even when it is time for lunch, the hours pass without stop, life continues on endlessly around Zandik as he ignores all of it.

He pays it all absolutely no mind, only stopping his reading at some point when he feels his stomach ache, starting to head for the cafeteria.

Instinctively, he looks to the other far side of the deck, where he saw the fashionable stranger just a while before– but he finds nothing, only unrelated people.

Somewhere in his mind, Zandik hopes to see that man once more, perhaps next time he could strike up a conversation, and see if they could even possibly connect.

He dismisses that thought for the time being, focusing on not blocking the path to the resort for the other guests here, and heading inside.

Along his way, he spots a previously unnoticed poster for some kind of upcoming concert in the resort– it was planned to happen the day after tomorrow, late in the evening, and some big-shot singer was to be featured.

The stranger appeared of more refined taste, from the clothing alone, so perhaps he could be found on that evening, with some drink in his hand?

The student was sure that he’ll see the stranger once more, it was simply the matter of where, rather than when.

Zandik got his lunch fast enough, even with all the crowds in the cafeteria, he also managed to find a free spot to sit at and enjoy on his lonesome.

Even though the food was acceptable, he still found himself missing the spices and tastes that were common in his home country. Fontaine just couldn’t stand up to Sumeru’s food, in Zandik’s humble opinion.

After his lunch, he decided to go on a walk around the resort’s owned land and even further, having remembered that he was issued an assignment before he left, something that could really add onto his grades.

Even when in unfamiliar wilderness, the student retained his calm, knowing that unlike in Sumeru, Fontaine had no tigers in the forests, so at least that was of less concern.

He ended up spending most of his day in the wilderness, inspecting local foliage or even taking some samples with him– he even managed to find an old core of a ruin guard!

Zandik found his way back only when the sun was well below zenith, and shadows now long.

He had first placed all of his findings in his room, only then going to get his dinner, and soon returning once more, but this time for the final time that day.

The student ended up staying awake at a desk until midnight that day, writing down notes and his findings about the collected samples, even doing some tests with the little equipment he brought with himself.

Actually, when fiddling with the ruin guard core, which obviously caused noise, he had even earned a couple of bangs against a wall from another room beside his.

Although he took the response to heart, Zandik decided to end his work then and there, slipping under the covers soon enough, falling asleep fast– a product of his late night work.

Zandik wakes up even later in the morning than usual, although feeling well-rested.

When he walks away from his bed, to the only window in his room, he finds that it is raining. From a quick look at the clouds, it appears it didn’t start recently, and won’t be stopping soon either.

Once he freshens up, he gets his breakfast, and then walks over to the entrance to the main deck of the resort, and the main pathway for anyone looking to get to the beach.

The whole deck is empty, not a single soul there, the beach with its now more furious crashing waves isn't any more welcoming. The rain pours to no end, the sound of droplets crashing against wooden planks eating up Zandik’s entire consciousness.

He’s not here…

Even the cafeteria, even though it was breakfast time, felt more lonely and abandoned than ever before, as if the whole population of the resort had decided to leave the building, and go elsewhere

It was going to be a rainy day, with little to no interesting activities to occupy him.

Zandik sighed, still looking out to the turbulent sea so far away– as if expecting something to happen.

He stayed in his room that whole day, leaving only when necessary, all of his time spent on either reading, fiddling with the core or with the other samples he managed to get.

The third day of his stay is uneventful and forgettable.

He hopes he’ll see him tomorrow.

The morning was completely different from yesterday’s: the sun was peeking through the closed curtains of Zandik’s room, and when opened, it revealed a bright view of the close-by sea.

Today the waters were calm, barely any waves, while some clouds– quietly murmuring about yesterday –still lazily drifted through the sky, but never obscuring the giant sun.

Somehow, simply that made the student feel slightly better, even hopeful for today.

He picks to dress in non-Akademiya clothes once more, finding himself even liking them more than the uniform he was so used to. It was nice to shed the second skin that was that green and white garb for something different.

The breakfast he receives is as interesting as every other this week, but still, his positive mood doesn’t falter, something inside him promising today to be better. And for some time, he did believe his mysterious instincts.

When he sees a lot of people heading towards the beach, the idea to actually enjoy the thing he came here for becomes apparent to him, and right after he finishes his food, Zandik heads for his room, to get a couple of things, before himself walking to the welcoming sea.

But he does stop at the wooden terrace, to look through all the strangers that were sitting and chatting along with others, searching for the familiar face, or at least clothing.

When he sees nothing he recognizes, he continues heading to the beach, keeping in his mind the fact that later today there would be the concert in the resort, so finding him should be easier.

Zandik finds a spot to settle down, further away from the sea, so that fewer passersby would concern or trouble him.

The student’s day goes by quite fast, spending most of his time enjoying the sun that was a fraction of its heat compared to Sumeru, while reading the book he was quickly finishing.

He does decide to take a swim a few times in-between his sessions, to cool off, and also try to identify and measure by eye any and all fish he manages to see in the water for pure amusement.

Zandik returns to his room in the late afternoon, still feeling the lingering warmth of the sun on his skin, trying to find some activity there while he waits for the upcoming concert.

As much as he knows that it will be so small and comparably insignificant, the mere fact that he may be there makes him try harder when choosing what to put on.

He curses himself for not packing any jewellery– that man seemed to like pretty metal and gems, surely something similar would impress him? –and he has to make do with a more practical and silver watch, as well as a simple metal chain.

For clothes, he manages to find something loser on the pants, and tighter on the buttoned shirt– which should make him look nice, right?

Zandik was feeling like he was getting ready for a first date– which was correct, in a sense, but it didn’t make him feel any less better.

To combat his nerves, the student simply left his room as fast as possible, knowing that staying there would only make everything worse.

He didn’t even need to get close to the first floor to already hear and feel the music– it wasn’t too loud, really, but it was noticeable, making you focus on it.

After a quick minute of walking, he entered a new large room, previously unknown to him, with a stage at one of the corners, occupied by some small band and a singer, live music coming from their direction. Some space in front of the platform was also made for the people to dance, with spaced out tables.

All the tables were turned somewhat towards the stage, the seats nearest to it were completely filled, while everything else at the other end of the space, including the bar, was much calmer and spacious.

And there, at the end of the bar, sitting on a stool, half turned to the stage, all while sporting a sizeable glass of a cocktail in one hand, sat he.

He was dressed differently from last time, but it wasn't any less extravagant or, frankly, beautiful.

Before he would start to simply stare at him, Zandik forced himself to move and sit down on the stool beside the man, asking the bartender for a mocktail.

He turned then to face the familiar stranger, a smile on his face: “Good evening.”

That was good. He decided to test the grounds: “Evening. Are you enjoying the show?” The student turned his head towards the stage.

The stranger’s glasses shined bright for a moment, as he moved his head. “Quite, that woman is an up-and-coming singer in Fontaine, she’s quite good at what she does.” The man sipped his drink, and then frowned at the person who had joined him. “Might you be the same man who was staring at me a couple of days ago on the deck?” 

Zandik didn’t manage to suppress his wincing to the words, looking obviously awfully guilty, while the other simply laughed– so hearty and lovely, like a song to one’s ears.

“Thought so– your hair makes you quite easy to find in a crowd.” Another sip of his drink.

The other clears his throat, straightening up, fully facing the stranger. “I wish your first impression of me was better, but it’s too late for that now–” he extended a hand to shake, “–my name’s Zandik, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He hums a short and happy tone. “Formal, but the feeling is mutual. Although I cannot tell you my name, due to my line of work.” He shakes the offered hand, but Zandik is still focused on the words.

“What kind of classified work makes you unable to share your name?” The student is curious at this point, steadying himself with an elbow on the bar.

The man seems conflicted at his response, his mouth’s corners slightly curling. “I work at a bank, but my duties… require more privacy than the average receptionist there.”

Zandik feels like the smile on the other’s face now is much more faux. “Surely you must have some kind of name I may call you, mister banker.” He wasn’t really sure if he was older or younger than him– his face looked like he has both seen things, but also was blessed with immaculate beauty by some gods.

The stranger hummed for a moment, closing his already barely open eyes for a moment. “You can call me Regrator then.” He took another sip of his drink.

The student frowned at the connotation the word brought with itself, but after remembering his own name’s meaning, he let it slide.

Just at that moment, Zandik’s drink arrives, and he gives his thanks for it to the bartender, while the banker beside him raises an eyebrow: “You don’t drink alcohol?”

He only answered after a good gulp of the sweet drink that harboured an unnaturally blue colour. “It clouds my mind– in the Akademiya, it’s important to keep a straight mind all the time you’re learning.” He left out the few other reasons he had, deciding they weren’t that important. “I see you also have ordered a mocktail.”

The Regrator hums at the answer, examining the weird way the other looks away from his face with a frown, but then returns with a forced smile. “Mm yes– my reasoning is the same as yours, but, erm…” He looked away too, to the stage, the lively performance. What did he have to lose anyway? “I also get an allergic reaction from alcohol– it makes me all red and puffy –so I rarely drink out in public.” He himself is starting to question why is he trusting a random– apparently –student with information his closest acquaintances in Liyue don’t even know.

While Zandik himself is jogging his memory in real time about the so-called flush he has heard about from his Inazuman and Liyueian peers. He hums at the realisation that they share at least one thing, smiling and holding his glass just above the wood of the bar. “Well, at last, I’ve found someone I may drink mocktails with.”

The banker paused for a moment, but then clicked their glasses together in a small toast, both of them taking a sip from their drinks.

It is Zandik who speaks up again, trying his best to remain subtle: “Do tell, though, are you on a holiday here all alone?”

The man in black rested his head on his propped up hand, a calculating look directed at the other that seemed playful enough. “And if I was? Is there some problem with that?”

“Ah- no, that’s not what I meant–”

The Regrator smiled at the alarmed look on the other’s face, that eased just as quick as it flared up. “Oh, I am indeed holidaying alone, although it seems I am not unique in my situation, hm?”

Zandik relaxed into himself, feeling a weight drop off his back. Don’t lose focus. “Correct assessment, although I’m only alone because only I won a ticket to be here, while you– I can barely imagine how –are here on your lonesome, while looking like that.”

That got a reaction: the banker was genuinely caught off guard, and had to look away to sip his drink in an attempt to hide away his face– the student could even see a faint flush on those cheeks if he tried enough. “Awfully forward are you, Zandik.”

Although he heard some bite in those words, Zandik understood what actual connotation they carried, and he couldn't help but feel successful in his attempts to win over the Regrator’s attention.

The pair ended up spending their whole evening at the bar, simply talking about even the most mundane of things over beverages.

Zandik can’t recall what actual amount of glasses did he gulp down then, or did he realize how they would surely mess with his stomach later. But, he did know that while talking to that banker from Liyue, he felt utterly ethereal and dizzy, like no drink could make him.

Time slipped past their fingertips like sand, both deciding to go back to their rooms when the area around them got increasingly quieter, the student deciding to lead the Regrator back to his resting place.

As if somehow mutually attracted, they kept sticking and bumping close to each other, never locking hands or anything, but sometimes just brushing their shoulders together. All of this while their conversation– now about the band that performed today –was going on for an unmeasured period of time.

They suddenly stopped mid-sentence, when the banker realized they had reached his room, him going over each of his pockets slowly, searching for his keys.

When Zandik looked at the number on the door, he hummed for a second. “Oh, our rooms are right together– mine’s there.” He pointed behind myself, the door right over.

At that, the Regrator looked up, but then frowned, trying to remember something. “Are you then the guy who was making a ruckus in the middle of the night a few days ago?” He had one brow up, looking almost… unsurprised?

The student didn’t answer, simply smiled, and looked away for a moment, while his hand instinctively went up to the back of his neck.

They stood there in silence for a handful of minutes more, the banker taking his time with the key. Zandik didn’t mind stretching the time, as long as he could be beside the other, or simply look at him.

Finally, the key was inserted into the lock and turned, a click following suit, but the door wasn't opened, the Regrator lost in his thoughts, looking down.

A few more beats of silence, only possible because of the fact that not a single soul was in the hallway.

“I had a great time talking with you, Zandik.” The man faced the other then, something unsure messing with his, frankly, beautiful smile.

“Me too.” He just couldn’t stop observing that man. He was bewitched– obviously –but he didn’t mind it, he actually really liked it.

“I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow then too.”

That didn’t quite sound like a question, something more akin to a demand or hope.

The student nodded enough to get across his mutual feelings, not losing sight of the Regrator.

The banker looked like he intended to do something more there, and that he was really thinking about it, but ultimately it became a simple way to torture Zandik as the other whispered a quick “goodnight” before disappearing into his room.

The only one left in the hallway felt like he had accidentally skipped over something, like something was meant to happen but didn’t for some arbitrary reason.

But even that couldn’t bring down his overall unmistakingly positive mood, actually– it made him want that something even more.

That night Zandik couldn’t fall asleep for a long time, his head still brimming with thoughts about the day that just went by, and most importantly, him.

He could barely wait to see that banker again.

Zandik awoke slowly the next morning.

He must’ve forgotten to close the blinds in his room last night, since the sun bathed everything in a pleasant, warm tone, making the student even more happy to stay in bed.

The excitement from yesterday transferred to the feeling of some flame burning inside him steadily, making his whole body buzz with giddy energy.

He almost wanted to keep sleeping and laying under the covers, if only to not stop the feeling that had consumed him whole then.

Yet he knew that lazying around like some cat was unbefitting of him, so he forced through the yearning to return to the warm sheets. The usual loss of balance followed suit when he sat up, making him dizzy for a good moment.

Zandik decided to first have breakfast in more casual clothing, and then change and do something else.

(Perhaps even see him?)

He ended up walking out of his room late in the morning, quietly appreciating the fact that little people remained in the hallway or the cafeteria– making for a much calmer environment.

As luck had it, just when he entered the dining area with a plate of some Fontainian cuisine, he found the Regrator sitting by his lonesome, looking out the window beside him.

Somehow, they locked eyes at the same time, and the banker waved as well as invited the other with a hand gesture, looking like the sun itself with his radiant and infectious smile.

The student sits across from the man, who, like during all the past meetings, wore dark clothing that covered practically everything– barely any skin showing.

They exchange common pleasantries, both somehow lighting up at each other’s voice, Zandik eyeing the plate of half-eaten food.

“How did you sleep?” Asks the student, slowly eating his breakfast.

“Oh, here I sleep for way too long every night– it’s certain to cause problems when I get back, hm?” He observed the man in front of him, and tried picking up his own fork, slightly grimacing at the food staring back at him.

Zandik took note of that. He is capable of faking emotions, but he still lacks the full mastery of the skill. “Oh, totally, although that’s why we’re here, right?” He took a small break to chew. “But it’s hard for me to imagine you sleeping badly back in Liyue– you seem like someone who would have a private house away from the bustle of the harbour.”

The banker found those words funny, smiling with his teeth– for the first time –a laugh escaping him.

The student didn’t understand what did he say to gain the reaction, silently retaining his neutral face.

The other then understood the situation, clearing his throat and even stuffing a bite of his food. “Sorry, it’s just the irony of the situation– contrary to my current appearance, I don’t quite get the chance to rest well in Liyue. While a holiday– well, I haven’t had one in quite a few years.” He seemed happy, betraying his actual words.

Zandik noted those words down in his head, reminding himself to look back on it later.

A silence then fell over them, as they both took their time with their meals, the warm sun spilling its warmth everywhere in the room, it alone big enough to exist instead of a conversation.

Half the time, the student was simply eyeing the other, and how he looked significantly softer with the lighting, as if his dark and generally sharp silhouette became rounder only because of the light.

Zandik wondered to himself, who actually was the supposed Regrator in front of him, and how many things has he not said yet, in their short time of knowing each other. How many days of his life did he neglect to mention, leaving them out of every sentence, merely because of embarrassment, fear of judgment, or seeing their worth as negligible.

He found himself lost in the those golden eyes, glistening as if they had actual gold sprinkled in them, the shade the exact colour of a most treasured and perfect Mora coin. They sparkled with liveliness and youth, like dandelions in a meadow, and yet, if you gazed deeper at them, past the initial beauty, you would find something darker, sharper– almost raw.

“Do you have any plans for today?” The banker’s words slid through his thoughts like sharp scissors.

Zandik had to blink a few times to get back to his current surroundings– the resort, cafeteria, a table by a window with the view to the sea, and then, in front of him, he.

He was almost sure the other man had noticed his disorientation, with that small curl on his lips, but he ignored it: “I– I was thinking about going to the beach again– today is promised to be a nice day, so it shouldn’t be wasted.” Zandik basically blurted out the answer, taking his time to readjust.

The Regrator had his tilted head in one hand, looking away to the window next to them. “That sounds nice, mind if I join?” The golden eyes are once again on him.

The student needs a few seconds to process the words so he could answer: “Oh, go ahead, company would be nice at the beach.”

They end up exiting the cafeteria soon enough, discussing which one should bring what, before both disappear through their respective doors, to change into clothing better suited for the sand of the beach, and the water of the sea.

When Zandik locks his room away, he wonders, will the other still be wearing clothes that completely cover him, or will he have chosen to fashion more weather-appropriate garments.

Yet he can’t even ponder over the question too long, since he finds the other already waiting on the deck, leaning against the railing, looking away to the sea, before quickly noticing his neighbour.

It appears the banker hasn’t considered breaking his streak of inappropriate clothing, as he is wearing something– admittedly –flowier and looser, but still dark, with not a single patch of skin visible.

The two exchange a few words before heading down to the beach, towards the hot white sand. The amount of people is still overwhelming, but they do find a more calm corner, that offers a couple of lounge chairs, as well as the shade of an umbrella– something requested personally by the Regrator.

They settle down soon enough, the banker pulling out some sort of book out of nowhere, getting ready to read, while the other first tries to soak in the warmth. With his hands behind his head and closed eyes, the man ponders over what should he do.

Some time passes, peaceful silence in-between the two men, all while the voices of strangers never seem to end, just like the calming crashes of small waves on the shore. The student finds himself liking the calmness in-between them– the lack of conversation doesn’t feel to him like a gaping void, rather something comforting. As if the mysterious man’s presence was naturally grounding and soothing.

At one point, he creaked open an eye, and stole a glance at the other– he found that, just like him, he was enjoying the tranquillity, looking more relaxed than ever; his usual stiff posture and smile gone, but replaced with something more natural.

If Zandik was of a simpler mind, and tried to evaluate their mutual interest in each other, he would’ve thought the two of them as a pair were some kind of soulmates or “always meant to be”. But, he hadn’t trashed his brain with Inazuman novels, so he tossed that idea out.

Soulmates! Hah! Idiotic.

At that moment, after thinking for a while, Zandik finally landed on going for a good swim, mainly to cool off, since he was getting warmer by the second.

He turned his head to the side, to face the Regrator who was still flipping pages of his book. “I was thinking of cooling off in the water, do you want to come along?” He ended their silence easily.

The other man turned his head after putting his finger to where he finished reading, humming for a moment, his lips moving in a certain manner. “I’ll pass– I don’t really like swimming– I’ll wait for you here.” He ended up finishing with a smile so faux, Zandik started to feel insulted, only until he came to the conclusion it wasn’t out of ill will.

The student nodded. “I understand– You don’t like to show your skin, right?”

That struck a cord with the man in black, making him lose his composure completely and wince, the expression on his face something of fury and… insecurity? The student understood that response.

“How– What makes you think that?” The Regrator tried to ease back into his previous pose, but he kept shifting, pushing up his glasses, biting his lip.

“You’ve been wearing clothing that completely covers your skin all of this time– even to the beach, you dress conservative, in spite of the dreading heat that I know you're not immune to.” He switched his attention to the sea. “But it’s fine if you don't wish to show me anything, it’s your choice. Although, keep in mind the fact, that I may be more accepting of unsightly physiques, than others.”

The Regrator paid close attention to how the other was unconsciously scratching the bridge of his hooked nose.

He then looked away to the side, towards the other people on the beach. It was quite calm here, where the two of them sat– the close-by trees of the forest were swooshing in the wind, while the crashing waves of the sea were soothing. The surroundings filled their short silence.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” The banker returned to his previous position as best as he could, burying his head in the yellow paper once more.

From the corner of his eye, the man in black saw Zandik steal a glance at him before quickly nodding and heading towards the shining sea in the close distance.

The one left behind barely paid any attention to his newfound friend after that, getting naturally lost in his own business, forgetting about his surroundings, as well as the beach, soon enough.

Although he does end up looking at the empty lounge chair more than once, weird worry creeping up his spine, making him unusually anxious– for a practical stranger, no less!

Did Zandik count as a stranger? They did talk a lot…

Absentmindedly, the Regrator ends up peeking through his book towards the sea and the waters, wondering if he’ll spot that obvious blue head of hair.

He ends up catching Zandik just as he was heading towards the banker, fresh from the water, trying to get some loose strands of hair from his face.

The way all the water droplets on his skin glisten and sparkle in the sun, highlighting every quirk on the man’s chest and arms– contouring muscle and accenting the couple of odd discoloured patches of skin on the chest…

The banker winces the moment he sees the other has realised he was being ogled at, staring into the words in his book with the most calm look he can manage.

While the student decided to add that moment to his collection of memories he surely won’t forget for more than a hundred days.

“How was the water?” The Regrator practically chokes out the words, clearing his throat in the middle of speaking.

Zandik patted himself on the back for the pink on the other man’s cheeks he for sure caused. “Cold, but it cools you off.” He looked at the banker and his way of reading, thinking of getting into his own preferred reading position. “Will you remain on land for the remainder of our time here?”

“I was thinking of it.” More words that barely escaped the man’s throat, all while he tried hiding his face by turning his head away from the other’s sight.

The student decided to leave it at that, picking up his own book he was so close to finishing.

The two remained in their mutual silence for a while more, letting time pass by them slowly and the sun warm them.

With the hours slipping by, Zandik had detoured to the sea a couple more times, while the Regrator had even gone back to the resort to buy himself a cold drink.

Although, they did decide to return to the resort for a good meal as well as to rest, when the sun was close to its zenith, and its strength was becoming overwhelming and potentially harmful.

They separated paths when going back to their rooms, to freshen up and rest for a bit.

Soon enough, just when Zandik had finished tinkering with the ruin guard core for good, the time for early dinner came around, and he headed out of his room, skin still warm from the sunbathing.

In the cafeteria, he instinctively tried to spot a certain head of inky black, but when he failed, the student simply turned back to the offered food.

He really was on the fence on liking or hating Fontaine’s food, since most of it seemed much more decorative, rather than a substance made to fill the stomach.

Zandik kept arguing with himself in his mind all the way to an empty table, even when he started eating– the rhythmic moving of chewing really making him think about the presentation of food in different races and cultures.

For the better or worse, his thoughts halt to a quick stop when before him, the one and only banker, dressed in something different, sat down, having brought his own plate of food.

They nod as a small greeting, slowly easing into a conversation about nothing in particular. They keep drifting from one topic to another, starting with their plans for later today, and ending with the overwhelming responsibilities both (unsuccessfully) tried to forget while here.

Eventually, they moved from the cafeteria, to a lounge– previously not known to the student –where Zandik happily accepted the invitation to play some casual chess.

Both were thinking of participating in another concert later that day, if only to drink and chat while in the company of some good music, so they had plenty of time to waste.

“But you do give out loans to researchers, right?” Zandik was stretching out his turn, more focused on the man rather than the painted pieces of wood.

“Technically, yes, but there are so many meetings and papers to arrange, it's rarely done.” Finally, it was the banker’s turn, and he moved a pawn much faster than the other.

“Well, could you make an exception for me– you know, I have some great ideas your bank would probably like to invest in.” Zandik was smiling wide, knowing it too well, and although most found it unsettling, the man away from him showed no negative reaction, hence he kept on going.

The banker leaned back in his chair, knitting his hands together, some calculated gaze set on Zandik–as if inspecting hm under a microscope. “Well, then do share these extraordinary ideas you harbour– I would make sure your words reach my superiors’ ears if they're worth their salt.”

At that, the student looked away, biting his lip quietly, joyous expression gone. “I can’t… exactly reveal the details– I would prefer a deal where I would get the money with no questions asked.”

At those words, the Regrator ended up chuckling, covering his mouth with the back of his hand– the noise lighting up a fluttering furnace in Zandik’s chest. “You think you’ll be blindly given a great sum of Mora simply because… you want it?” He peeked through his lidded eyes at the other man, a smile sharp enough to cut through Zandik’s confidence, who was not making any eye contact while having his hands crossed. “Such a bank would then naturally have deceptive practices to accommodate for the easy terms– completely unrealistic.” He slowly shook his head and moved a chess piece, getting back into his seat. “Besides, you don't have Liyue’s citizenship, so there would be no way you could get the loan.”

“You could’ve simply said no.” Zandik was holding his head in an open palm, and as much as he pouted, his warm face really did betray him.

They ended up changing topics again soon enough, continuing to exchange words for a couple of hours, just before both decided to stop it there, and have a walk before the sun fully set.

The two ended up taking their time while walking through the beach, alongside the now calm waves of the sea.

The air was still warm, just like the sand, but the waters that both stepped through cooled them dynamically.

The sun was already low, dying the sky warm colours with the last of its golden rays. Clouds swam through the sky with ease, dyed pink, while some birds still tried to reach them, flying high.

The nature to their left whispered with life– bushes and grass moving with the slow wind, a stray cricket making sound.

With the atmosphere and the never ending conversation with the other man, Zandik failed to remember that the last time he was here it felt the same, or even close to his current elated mood.

But, before they had wandered off to one direction too much, and after the Regrator had checked the time, they headed back to the resort, still wishing to participate in the concert.

And somehow, while discussing some differences between their respective cultures, they end up talking about their age.

“It really is a surprise I'm older than you by a bit– you really don't look the part.” Zandik idly mused, thinking nothing of his comment.

Although, the banker was showing his frustration fully, feeling quite insulted. “Do tell, how is this supposed to be without any malice towards me?” He steals a glance at the other, who seems to be trying to think real hard about something.

The student's bluntness always felt insulting to him, yet the Regrator couldn't bring himself to dislike the man. Although his words could be twisted to sound more negative, that rarely was the intention.

He'd often say as things are because he considered it useless to hide away the fact.

The banker didn't quite agree with Zandik on that point, but he did admire the truthfulness– a rare thing for someone of his position.

“I'm just saying that you have done quite a lot for someone younger than me– even if it's by a few years. I don't see how age could be turned against someone like you.” The man turned his head to the other, who was actively being bathed in the fleeting sun, and wore a frown.

“In the bank, my superiors are naturally older, so they see me as naive, lacking wisdom.” He took some stray lock of his silky hair, curling it over his finger. “There are also… other aspects of me that they don't trust me over.” The banker ended on a quiet note, as if remembering a bad memory.

Fortunately, Zandik had understood the tenseness, not trying to pry more. “I think my situation in Sumeru is quite similar to yours.”

“Is it now?” The man sounded almost surprised.

The student swayed his head to the sides a couple of times, thinking of how to phrase everything. “Some avoid me for my appearance, or the rumours that surround me– wrong ones, might I add.”

“Right? The baseless things people make up out of jealousy and their own lack of drive to strive for success!” The Regrator almost immediately chimed in, remembered rage going through his veins. “The stuff they’ll dig up, just to make you look bad.”

The student silently takes note once again. “Even worse, if your peers decide to sabotage you and your work, when theirs in comparison is inadequate.” The banker beside him nodded, in agreement, looking irritated. “But in the Akademiya, strict rules and sages assure that those who have done wrong get adequately punished. Yet I get the sense that in your bank, sabotage is fair game?” He treads carefully in the conversation, casting a glance at the approaching resort– all the windows bright from the lit lights.

The banker swatted the air with his hand, as if trying to physically get rid of some thought. “Superiors themselves don't take me seriously, so I have none to go to–” The man seemed to have caught himself, grumbling and then sighing before changing his expression to something more neutral, but still irritated. “–I don’t want to talk about work while on holiday, let's talk about something else.” He blinked at the dancing people he could see through the resort's large glass windows. “Are you good at dancing?”

Zandik needed a good moment to think about the question as they started heading up the wooden stairs toward the resort. “It is required we do have at least one weekly class in come cultural art, and I did choose dancing, so in that sense, yes.” From a corner of his eye, he saw the same employee from a couple of days ago– Aimee –carrying an obviously heavy box of apples, but he paid it no mind.

“Oh, really? I myself have only–”

Out of nowhere, Aimee somehow tripped on air, and in an act of pure clumsiness, dropped the box, all the red fruit heading towards the two that had just climbed up the stairs.

With agile reaction time, Zandik manages to avoid them, but doesn’t take into account that the Regrator is beside him, and hence bumps into him.

But the other man is also fast enough to react, and manages to catch the student before he falls flat on his back, ending up holding him in a weird pose– as if they had just danced and the banker decided to dip the student.

For a long moment, the two men were simply frozen in the middle of their stances, eyes locked onto each other– a dusty crimson red onto shining gold –mouths slightly agape, their minds still processing what had just happened.

They really only snap back when they register Aimee’s voice near them, almost crying while picking up scattered apples all over the deck.

The Regrator finally brings up the man to his feet, both of them looking away for split seconds, and then returning their eyes to the other, inquiring if each was well. And after they notice the worried worker kneeling on the planks, they decide to help at getting at least some of the apples back into the box.

“Thank you so much– my boss is totally going to kill me because I'm so tollpatschig!” The worker hurries to save the fruit before bugs get to them.

“It is quite alright, we would feel bad if we left you here all alone.” The Regrator answered with a warm smile, since he was closer to Aimee.

While Zandik took the god-given opportunity to put some space between them, since he was almost completely sure his face was as red as a Zaytun peach.

And when the student decides to carry all of his apples to the main box, he finds the worker for some reason fixated on the banker’s pants. “Ah and sir, what lovely pantalones you wear… fitted so perfectly and extenuating your smaller waist as well as making your legs appear longer with the high cut, with them being tighter around your thighs while flaring below the calf. A true fine selection!”

It is lucky for the pair that most of the apples were gathered, because after that exchange, the Regrator can only murmur some sort of affirmative response with a scared look on his face, before nodding at the other man’s idea of going to the concert now– anywhere away from Aimee.

Both first quickly decide to get some supper before drinking anything, not speaking a word until they sit down to eat their small meals at a lonesome table, with no one bothering them

It was already fairly late, the sun had disappeared then, only few of its rays touching the sky, instead, the darkness of the night enveloped everything, with it coming a silver moon with twinkling stars. The refuge of man-made lights inside of buildings invited all either way, most favouring the company of others over the chill night.

The odd duo wasn't any different, somehow coming back to each other every time. Currently, though, they were still together, minding their own business while quietly chewing.

But then, the Regrator decides to disturb the silence, start up another conversation neither wanted to finish: “If you do possess at least moderate dancing skills, would you then like to show them off today? Not that drinking all night isn't fun, I simply think a change of pace would do well.”

Zandik looked up at the man at those words, thinking while he finishes chewing. “Sure, but then, I must inquire, can you also dance?” He tilted his head to the side, smiling a bit, as if trying to provoke the other.

“You shouldn’t underestimate me– we’ll decide who’s better on the floor.” The banker returned the expression.

The blatant confidence makes the student even more giddy– why? He really doesn’t know, but, he does know that he wants to put their hands together, while having one somewhere on the waist, and then–

His thoughts are interrupted when the other says that they should be going now, and he agrees quickly, both of them now heading towards the music that was coming from the other end of the resort, inviting every awake soul.

They end up finding that the singer and musician today are different from yesterday, although the style of music remains familiar, and popular, judging from the people gathered that danced and admired the performance.

Although, the two of them first go to the bar once again, both liking the calmness near it, since only a couple of seats were taken by silent folk, themselves enjoying the liveliness of the venue.

They order a couple of mocktails, at times glancing behind themselves, towards the stage, commenting on the singer’s admirable performance.

In a matter of minutes, the two receive their glasses full of exotic drinks with colourful profiles, and both take a sip after a toast to nothing in particular.

And Zandik immediately notices that his was something different from his expectations– for one, it had alcohol, and secondly, it didn't taste like what he asked for.

The conflict was obvious enough for the banker to notice, and for him to ask what had caused the sudden frown of almost disgust.

And Zandik, after stomaching the alcohol, answers: “The bartender must’ve misheard me, and made me something alcoholic instead.” He tried to push through what he already knew was going to happen.

The Regrator’s eyes widened at that for a moment, glancing at his drink– it wasn’t unusual –leaning against the wood of the bar, looking for the worker. “Oh, then I’m sure we can get the bartender to just–”

The student waves off the attempt and effort: “It’s fine, I might get charged twice anyway, I’ll rather just finish this over the whole night.”

His words appear to hold value to the other, since he stops looking for the worker, and after a moment of thought, nods, continuing their previous conversation about what had both of them heard about the current singer.

From that point onward, Zandik starts to lose his whole memory of the night, the words he said or the things he did– being a horrible lightweight and drinking a mysterious cocktail does that to you.

But from the small snippets of his chopped up memory, he remembers, after the night matured to a deep one, and after both of them had finished their drinks, he ended up inviting the confused banker to dance.

When he had looked at the big crowd moving with the rhythm of the songs, he had managed to remember their exchange about dancing, and figured that he was feeling in the mood for some dynamic moving.

He can't recall what he had said exactly, or the tone he used, but he did kind of remember finding the expression on the other's face funny, or at least tease-worthy.

Only when he had grabbed the other hand did the man in black decide to live up to his words, and go with Zandik’s request. Although he himself, during the aftermath, wondered why the Regrator hadn't protested even a bit.

The loud music and bright lights didn't help the controlling alcohol in Zandik’s blood, making him utterly dizzy when he tried to dance while gripping onto his dancing partner.

Snippets of seeing the Regrator’s silhouette lit up under the lights, accidentally bumping into him and his chest, getting too close for just a moment before he’s back into his sloppy steps– filled his subconscious when he forced himself to remember.

What actually happened wasn’t clear to him– did the banker end up acknowledging the surely horrible dancing, did he get angry, or can he slightly make out his hidden laughs and snickers then? 

Although that eludes him, Zandik remembers feeling like atop the world when he kept their hands and fingers interlocked, with a hand on the waist, moving with the other front and back, to the sides, and then spinning.

He can almost feel the smile when he– or was it the Regrator –dipped, the pure bliss in his veins with all of that sweet poison in his blood and an attractive someone by him.

If there was one thing the student could conclude from the night, it was that he hadn’t felt like that in a while.

If there was another thing Zandik could conclude from that night, it was that he felt horrible the next morning.

At least he was in his room, and on his bed– did the other lead him back here? He must’ve… –and he doesn’t remember getting sick, hence, technically, he should be able to handle the headache and the pain in his stomach, since it was the only consequence of the night.

He rolled onto his back, rubbing his eyes, noticing he was in the same clothes from last night.

Zandik then remembered that he had brought some medicine with him here, and with a groan, as well as a good amount of struggle, he stepped to where he had put his luggage, and through lidded eyes, looked for something that should help him.

He ended up thanking himself for not forgetting to pack some pills, and he gulped them down with water he acquired soon enough.

The student stole a glance at a clock, and after frowning at it for a good while, trying to understand what the hands said while pain threatened to kill him, decided to lay in bed for a while more– until noon should be fine, right?

Once he hit his pillow, now a couple layers dressed thinner, he fell asleep the same moment, his mind not ready to face the day just yet.

A couple of hours passed, and Zandik woke up again, this time feeling better– not by a lot, but better, his headache lifted enough for him to think normally, and he overall felt more alive.

He really should stop drinking alcohol when he’s sure it will only cause trouble…

After pushing himself enough, the student managed to get over into the shower, freshen himself up and even change into fresh clothes– he felt like a new man by the end.

And when he figured the aching in his stomach wasn’t from the aftermath, but hunger, he walked down to the cafeteria, wondering what could be served today.

He looked at one of the posters on the walls there, failing to remember what day it was of the week.

And then, like thunder striking, he realised it was already the weekend– less than twenty-four hours until he has to leave.

Less than twenty-four hours until he has to leave everything here behind, including the Regrator.

Right, him. Last night…

Zandik softly shook his head, remembering to not make a line, and going along, finding himself a suitable meal.

As it happened, he had overslept a good while, the breakfast dishes already swapped out for something lighter, but the student didn't mind. He also didn’t mind the relative quiet in the cafeteria, the morning rush having passed, a lot of tables were empty.

Settled in a corner near the windows, he ate with a tranquil mind– the currently dull headache as well as the leftover turbulence in his body made him almost crave calmness.

Really, barely any thoughts slipped into his mind while he chewed, simply absorbing the atmosphere around himself as well as the delightful food. It tasted particularly seasoned today.

When Zandik was finished, he walked by the wooden deck, to get a look at the sea, and see how was the weather.

He might be there too.

After passing the threshold of the resort, stepping on the groaning wooden planks, the salty air hit him with force– the wind faster today, the waves also higher. The smell coupled with the bright sun struck Zandik unexpectedly, making his headache worse for a moment.

But, after he adjusted, the student regained his composure, being able to see everything clearly once more. The world didn't appear to stop while he had slept in: the beaches were already crowded, many enjoying the cool waters, and even on the wooden deck; plenty of people rested and chatted there, some even playing table games in-between themselves.

He scanned the men and women hidden under large umbrellas, searching for a certain someone, but the other was faster at spotting him.

“Good morning, there.” A lovely voice greeted Zandik from his side, which came from an equally fair face. “Slept well, I hope?”

The student automatically smiled at that, turning his whole attention to the man, who, at a second glance, dressed a bit differently today. “Morning, but yes, it does seem I have overslept a bit.” He tore his eyes from examining the unusual outfit, to the sea, and then back. “I guess that glass really was too much for me– did I end up doing something weird?”

He had to make sure he didn’t accidentally destroy his chances with the man with a mere cocktail.

There was a pause before an answer, conflicting emotions on the Regrator’s face, as well as something pink. His eyes darted away to and from Zandik’s face. “Nothing in particular, I can only loosely remember the night myself.”

The student could sense something weird in that response, but he reassured himself it was mostly just his headache and still unstable state of mind that made him think so.

He nodded then, not dropping his awfully happy demeanour. “Alright then, but do tell, have you anything planned today? I myself am free as a bird and was thinking of walking around the surrounding area, to the forest.”

The previous emotions of the banker disappeared, having exchanged them for a look of curiosity. “That sounds quite swell– and I'm also without any concrete plans for today.”

“Great then, let's meet up in a bit at the entrance to the resort.”

The two quickly reach an agreement, and Zandik is the first to go back to his room and change into more suitable clothing that covered the skin well. And right after him follows the banker, also deciding to change his look.

They rendezvous after a bit, by later noon, and set off on foot to the forest near the resort.

While having idle chatter sometimes interrupted by tranquil silence, the student can't help but steal glances at the other's outfit.

Today was different, to be sure, yet he didn't know why. He didn't know why or how the Regrator all of a sudden found himself wearing a top with shorter sleeves and a bigger neckline. He didn't know either why the man chose the clothing items with slight transparency to them, that with certain lighting would make the silhouette of his body known.

Zandik didn't really know the reason for the sudden change, but he liked it, and didn't mention it.

In the woods, there had been a brick path, which both followed, inching further and further away from the sea.

Amidst the tall and young pines, the mossy floor and the sudden chirps of birds, the banker, and the student fell into their now usual rhythm consisting of pleasant conversation.

All the time though, Zandik notices easily how both of them are keeping a smaller and smaller distance apart, sometimes bumping their shoulders together, or at times looking at each other's face when they talk.

They had started discussing last night, with the Regrator wishing to know if the other always had such a horrible tolerance for alcohol, when they hear foreign voices. It was simply a surprise, since they only saw a couple of people in the forest until then.

With further investigation, they both found that some tour group was there, speaking of folklore associated with the pines and all.

The two decided to blend in with the other handful group of tourists, thinking that hearing abut local legends may be a great way to pass the time.

Being at the end of the pack, the Regrator almost whispers with the other man, giving each other their own takes about the stories and certain weird natural formations as well as mysterious artifacts that have been found near their location.

The guide speaks in common about the people that settled down on the same land centuries go, what they did daily and how they progressed.

But as much as they wanted, the two odd folk in the back kept focusing on each other, only at times stopping to listen to what the educated individual spoke of. They may have received looks, but their discussions weren't affected.

Time just seemed to slip by their fingers– their surroundings may have changed from a forest laden with foliage to a cliff with high wind and rhythmically moving dandelions, the crowd they followed may have chattered and listened –yet the two seemed in their bubble all the same.

Hours passed, the wind calmed down, the sun descended, and the sky warmed up to a colour of a flame– the tour ended, and the foreign duo was going back to the resort now.

Although they did little, they still felt plenty exhausted, but not fully– not yet.

Both of the men landed on having dinner, after which they would savour the last rays of the sun on the sandy and empty beaches, perhaps ending their day then and there.

And so, there they were, both sitting on a couple of lounge chairs, looking out to the horizon and the sea– the banker not afraid this time of the sun, not hiding under an umbrella, having a pseudo nap. While the student was finishing the last few pages of his book, sunbathing all the same.

When he finishes the novel, he snaps it close, letting out a breath of satisfaction that comes from finishing a book. He looks to his side, to the peaceful banker, the slow fall and rise of his chest, the loose clothes that fall from his body, contouring him in its own way.

Zandik knows he can’t be caught staring like this, so he speaks up, breaking their silent harmony: “Would you fancy a walk right now? Before we head off to the resort for the night.” His tone is neutral, but he can't stop the slight uprise of his lips when he sees the other crack open his eyes. 

There’s a hum from the man, but it’s muffled by the sound of short, rolling waves, whispers coming straight from the sea. “Sounds lovely.” He’s already moving his legs and standing up on the warm sand.

The student follows quickly, both then wandering closer to the seawater, just enough for it to graze their feet.

The evening is ethereally calm, with not even a bird in the sky screeching or singing– just them, by the sea, the sailing clouds above, the exiting sun, and the wind kissing their cheeks ever so slightly.

“So, you’re leaving tomorrow.” The Regrator breaks their silence, musing while looking to the side, towards the distant greenery.

“Early in the morning, yes.” Zandik answers almost regretfully, having not thought about the fact for most of the day, too focused on the present moments. He slightly fears the tone of his voice gave him away and his feelings.

“That’s quite unfortunate, it has been pleasant spending time with you here– I can’t remember such a nice holiday.” He’s still not facing the other.

The student turns his head to the man, surprised and pleased. “Really? My simple presence has made such an impact on your stay here?”

“It really has, yes.” The Regrator turns his head then too, now both facing each other fully, face to face.

The distance between them had been so small, with their arms almost brushing, closing it would have been really easy.

“I can only say that the pleasure is mutual, being with you, mister secretive banker, on this holiday.” Zandik turned his head to face forward, looking to some far distance.

With that, he missed the disappointed look on the Regrator’s face that the man tried so hard to hide away and change for another.

For a good moment, there's more silence, yet this time, the man in black feels tension in his head, almost like a string of a violin being tightened and tightened.

For him, every step on the sand and a blow of the wind made something inside him rot and twist.

“Would you care to indulge me, for a moment?” Zandik speaks out of nowhere, instantly making the other focus back on the present moment.

“Sure, what is it?” He asks without much thought beforehand, instinctively.

“I know the reason why you wear conservative clothing, why you show little to no skin.” The student wasn't looking at the recipient of the words. “But I can't seem to understand what had changed for you to suddenly put on something more revealing.”

Both of them stopped in their steps, facing each other face to face now. The banker’s whole face was showered in faint sunlight, while Zandik had only half of his face illuminated.

Three beats of silence, during which a million thoughts ran through the Regrator's head, his awfully still and neutral expression reflecting that.

Finally, he spoke: “You're awfully straightforward, Zandik, wanting to know intimate details about others.”

“I'm simply curious– a virtue of a scholar. And you're avoiding the question, dear banker.”

The man in black was feeling the pressure, but he didn't want to give in easily. He also was in the mood for… a game of cat and mouse. “And my virtue is privacy, so just like you've not got my name, you will also have to give up on finding this out.” He continued walking like usual, making footsteps in the sand.

The student caught up, but he didn't let go– it seemed both of them had the same idea. “Ah, but I've not insisted on your name, since it was sensible for you to not give it to me, but this– this I shall uncover.” He kept glancing at the other, while the Regrator appeared stone-faced and unfazed.

Zandik made a show of visibly thinking hard, stroking his chin and humming, by which the banker was amused, as theatrical as it was.

“It must be something that someone said– you seem like the type to value others' opinions and public image.” The student shot his guess, lazily pointing his index finger towards the man.

“You're off by a mile.” The growing mischievous smile on his face betrayed his negative response.

“This must also have happened recently, perhaps someone pointed something out, and you took it to your head.” With the same finger he previously pointed, Zandik now uses it to curl his already curly and short hair, simply fidgeting. He was also trying his best when fighting down a growing smirk.

“You're not even the slightest bit close, I fear you will never be.” The banker started waving his hand, as if trying to dismiss any thoughts related to the conversation.

“The most recent highly social event you– and I, actually –participated in, was yesterday night.”

“If this was a game of hot and cold, you would be in Snezhnaya right now.” The Regrator wasn't even looking at the other now, almost afraid to show his face.

“But I think I can narrow it down even further.” The student was paying his whole attention to the man beside him and his, admittedly, hidden face. “We both stayed together for the better part of the early evening, hence, I believe that something happened specifically during the… dancing part of the night, or after it.”

And that instantly got a reaction– the Regrator almost tripped in the plain sand, stumbling after that with a wholly uneasy look.

Both of them stopped, with Zandik holding up his hands to help the man, wondering if he really was seeing pink blush on the other cheeks, or was it simply the warm glow of the setting sun.

“W-what makes you think so, hm? Hah, your guesses are truly out of this world, nowhere near the truth.” The man kept trying to compose himself: straighten his clothes, brush away some dust, smoothing out his hair. “You should really give up on your guessing, it's getting embarrassing.” The man started walking once more, shifting with every step in the sand.

The student waited behind for a second, and then caught up, humming a low tune. “Will you really not speak about what happened then?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” The man’s face betrayed him, his darting eyes too.

A couple of beats of silence, before the man with blue hair sighed softly. “If you insist.”

Out of nowhere, Zandik grabs both of the Regrator’s hands, a split second left for the man to process what was happening, before he was suddenly tugged and dragged towards the water, falling and crashing into the other the next moment.

Everything happened in a blink of an eye, and the banker barely understood what went down when he found himself on top of Zandik, who was laying half submerged in the water, holding himself on his elbows, still holding onto the Regrator’s hands.

The student had managed to both cushion the fall for the other man, and also splash into the water, making half of his head damp.

Yet he retained his grinning face in contrast to the Regrator's shocked expression. “How about now, will you tell me the truth, about why you've changed your mind so suddenly?” In the brief moment he got to hold the banker’s hands, their odd roughness felt familiar.

They've held hands before, he concluded, but he also realised that they weren't hands of some aristocrat that spent his whole life writing down numbers in papers and working at the bank.

No, those hands couldn't belong to someone like that– there was more to them. They had endured some kind of hardship, that's for sure

But even after these thoughts, Zandik didn't falter with his smile, showing off his teeth all the same. He squeezed their hands together to get the point across.

The water calmly crashed into him, every once in a while, repeating the same sensation to his skin. As natural as it was, it felt timed, rhythmic– forcefully made his senses calm down.

For a while, during the time the Regrator was processing everything, sounds of their surroundings filled the silence, somehow loud enough to occupy their whole minds.

And only after he was fully red in the face, did the banker stammer out a late response: “You- you are too forward for your own good.” The man’s lips curled, looking displeased, yet he didn't try to move away, almost liking holding hands with the other, and their bodies touching.

“You’re avoiding the question again!” Zandik reminded him again with a  sickly sweet smile that only added fuel to something in the banker.

The man considered the situation for a moment, humming displeased, when he spoke up again: “Not like I can escape this.” Correction: he could very easily, he just didn't want to. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you the truth ”

The student only displayed his teeth more outwardly with triumphant, awaiting the next words. He could practically feel his heart rate picking up with anticipation.

“You were right– someone did influence me yesterday night, and it was… you.” The Regrator’s eyes strayed away, to the side, but then returned with newfound confidence. “While intoxicated, you asked me:

“Hey, banker, don't you ever feel suffocating in all of that fabric?” Zandik had asked, his words and movement filled with the expected slow drunkness.

The music was slow, calm even, and somehow they ended up dancing a basic waltz. Well, at least the Regrator tried to dance and lead, the other man was dancing with two left feet at this point.

The sober one was too focused on both making sure that the other wouldn't hurt himself and that he wouldn't cause a scene, that he didn't answer right after. “I– Uh, not really, I quite like layering and covering up.” But was that actually true? Sure, he told himself so, just so he felt better and more comfortable in covering his malnourished body, but deep down, how exactly did he feel?

“A shame.” The student moved too swiftly to the side, and the man in black had to catch and steady him, just so he wouldn't tumble. Zandik himself barely paid the misstep any mind. “I think you would look better without all of that clothing.” His tone was unreadable, just like his expression.

The Regrator then and there was struck with surprise– he couldn't say a word, moving his feet only out of practised instinct.

Yet, he did end up regaining the courage to speak up: “You can't say that for sure, you haven't seen me like that.” He tried to be almost humorous, partially wishing to change the topic.

“Ah, but I am sure– I just know that what you're hiding is nothing, you're probably just overthinking some stupid old tradition.” The man hiccuped, almost stepping on his dancing partner's shoe.

But the banker saw through the alcohol, to the core idea the man before him had in mind, even if it was difficult taking him seriously in his current state.

“…And for whatever reason, those words, and what you said to me on the beach the other day, really did stick with me, and I found the confidence to wear something unusual for me.” The Regrator tried to give some kind of smile, but he didn't really know how it turned out.

It was now Zandik’s turn to remain in silence for a good while, slightly dumbfounded by the answer, it took him a moment to speak again: “I see– so it was actually me who made you experiment as such?” A small pause, during which the student finally sorted his thoughts. “Then I’m proud to be the reason for that, since I was correct– you do indeed not need to hide your body, since it looks perfect.”

That was the breaking point for the banker, who, after processing those words, finally got up from lying on the other, and onto solid, sandy land, where he started effectively brushing off any sand that got on his clothes, managing to murmur indescribable things.

Slowly, only after catching a snapshot of frustration on the other’s face, did Zandik also move forward, getting up and trying his best to clean up wet clothes that started to cling to his skin.

After a one-sided tense silence, they did manage to get back into their usual flow of conversation. Although, this time, it felt a bit different– their words felt more personal, warm, close.

On that evening, they spoke about more private matters, some things better left to be discussed with only those you trust– they spoke about the ever-looming Celestia in the sky, as well as the Archons and gods that occupied their world.

By sheer luck, their views managed to align, and they could only be in awe about their mutual opinions.

Zandik retreated to his room sooner that evening than usual, expressing, that as much as he wanted to keep chatting with the banker until both of them got tired, he had to get ready for the early rise the next morning and make sure his suitcase was fully packed, leaving nothing behind.

Neither wanted to separate that soon, feeling like some inevitable fate was coming– the Regrator said that he will make sure to give the student some way of contacting him after he returns home. Zandik insisted that he didn’t want the other to wake up before dawn to simply hand him over some paper, he promised that he would think of something better.

And so, after a couple good hours of simply tidying up and getting his things back into his luggage, the student finally could fall to his bed to get a good night's sleep.

He doesn’t remember dreaming anything that night.

Zandik wakes up in a dark room, early, with the sound of his alarm.

With great will, he gets up, swiftly cleaning himself in the bathroom, changing into his Akademiya robes, so he could return just as he left Sumeru.

When he looked at himself, in those clothes that are the biggest symbol of pride a Sumerian could have– he felt weird.

He hadn't been wearing his uniform for the whole holiday, practically– he almost forgot it existed, even.

He wondered if the odd things he felt while standing in his dimly lit room, were a product of drowsiness from waking up not too long ago, or something else.

Zandik ignored that, insisting that he should rather hurry up and give away the keys for his room sooner rather than later.

After he finally left his room, and then made sure all the papers were good at the receptionist, he finally gave away the key.

And the worker– Aimee, again –behind the counter accepted it with a neutral smile, reciting a learned line: “We hope you've had a fantastic holiday staying with us, until next time.”

The student blinked at the statement. For whatever reason, having been taken aback by it. But he shook that off, separated with the receptionist, and soon found himself waiting for his scheduled carriage to arrive and pick him up, so he could get to the port.

Luckily, with the first few rays of the sun peeking out from the horizon, the coachman arrived and picked him up on time, quickly on his way.

During the short ride, Zandik thought of his holiday, of each of his days, the sun, the sea, the banker.

He kept invading his thoughts– that mysterious man.

He had given him no true name, simply a title, the details of his work or past not mentioned either.

And yet, the two of them really hit it off: connecting on the simplest things or ideas, finding their situations of being surrounded by people they cannot trust, relatable– they felt horribly alike.

Like two peas In a pod, or two sides of the same Mora coin, they even shared their dislike for gods and higher beings as a whole.

Although the banker did snicker at some of his fantastical plots, and Zandik did feel insulted a bit, he didn't end up holding any disdain towards the man because of that. He didn't particularly know why either, since he has been in similar situations, where he always ended up being awfully defensive– not this time though.

The student couldn't ignore the obvious when he had to get out of the carriage, and make his way to the port, to await his boat.

No, there really was no hiding it– he ended up liking the Regrator far more than anticipated, and now he was dreading the idea of losing him, of never seeing him again.

It was inevitable at this point– it was barely dawn, with only a few other souls walking around the port this early.

Yesterday was the last time the both of them would ever see each other, and neither even had the chance to give a normal goodbye.

Zandik tried to rationally think about the situation– realistically, someone he had met just a couple of days ago, meant little in the grand scheme of things?

The student kicked some small pebble off the ground, into the water, which made a splash he couldn't even see, merely hear.

Why was he lying to himself? Trying to seem logical in an emotional situation?

Of course, the banker had become unmistakingly important to him! Even though everything happened in a matter of days, and many things have still been left unsaid, both of them did grow a bond.

And now, soon enough, in a matter of minutes, all will be reversed, into what it has been before the trip, with no goodbyes– nothing.

Zandik looked at the view before him– the view of a calm port, with a handful of ships moving up and down, with the waves that reached them.

Some men were already loosening some rope that held their vessel secure, getting ready to sail out in almost pitch black dark.

With the low sun, only the weak flames of the roadside lanterns and personal flames illuminated the surroundings.

With his odd appearance, and Sumerian robes, the student felt quite out of place– like a single dot in an empty page, like a puzzle piece in the wrong place, like some black sheep in the middle of a purely white herd.

Zandik sighed, finally realising what the future from henceforth will consist of: nonstop learning, rejection and the usual dislike towards him from the other students– like usual.

All will return to what it was before.

He always wanted that, though, right?

To be a scholar– one able to learn and really dissect the truths of the world, to overcome mortal flesh and what not.

He always wanted to be a scholar– why was he feeling so unsure now?

The man hummed quietly, furrowing his brows while trying to think of an answer.

Had he… had he realised that there was more to life than his ambitions alone? That there was something else he always deemed unnecessary?

Had he… finally realised the value of human connection? Of a relationship?

“Zandik! Is that you?!” Out of nowhere, from somewhere behind, a voice calls out to him, followed by hurried footsteps.

The student turns, his gut, previously aching like it was turned into some tight knot, now dropped out of pure surprise and relief, having already registered who the voice belongs to.

Soon enough, the banker comes into view, and he barely manages to not stumble into the other in his hurry: “You haven't left yet!”

A soft smile graced Zandik's lips, the appearance of his friend giving him instant relief. “I haven't, no, the ship still isn't here.” For a moment, he separated their eyes to look out to the port, where there was only a distant ship coming from afar, closing in.

“That's great, then, more time…” The man looked down, huffing and breathing heavily, looking like he had run a mile.

The student then took a good look at the man before him, and found that his appearance, for the first time yet, was quite plain, simple– quickly put together. No jewellery adorned him, no complicated layers of cloth covered him, and his hair was quickly put together in a bun with a simple hair stick.

He must've been trying to get here as fast as possible, and had little to no time to prepare or even dress up properly for the weather.

The joy from seeing the Regrator then quickly turned into worry: “What are you doing here? You should be enjoying your stay back in the resort– not waking up at an ungodly hour.” Zandik almost tried to smooth out some wrinkles on the other’s black clothing, but he ended up doing little, retreating his hands.

After a good moment of rest for the banker, he looked up once more, trying to fix some of the hair in his face, his cheeks flushed and red. “Because I wanted to say goodbye first, of course!”

The student frowned: “There is no need–”

“Of course there is!” The man interrupted, his breath having finally calmed down, he grabbed and held up one of Zandik’s hands. “As short as our meetings were, and as little time we spent together, I still want to say goodbye properly.”

The blue-haired man stood there silently now, simply awaiting what was coming any minute now.

“Listen, Zandik– spending my holiday with you has been great. I haven't felt such a connection with someone in a while, and now, I don't want to lose it. You understand, right?” 

The Regrator looked at him with eyes full of determination, just like he would when he talked about his grand ideals and plans about Mora. Those eyes stared into him just like when the banker was thinking about things that most interested him, things that seemed to light a bonfire behind that gold of the eyes.

Zandik, for whatever reason, eased at the sight of that familiar shimmering yellow. “I do, and I feel the same– I don't wish for what we have to disappear and end here and now.” He tightened the grip on the other's hand.

That reassured the Regrator to continue. “And we don't have to!” For a moment, he freed one of his hands and searched his pockets to fish out a small slip of paper, that he placed in the student's hand. “This is my address, you can be the first to send a letter, after that, we'll be able to communicate as often as possible.” He gave a smile that made a knot in the other man's stomach tighten even more, as well as warm up his face.

For a long moment they both stared at the small paper in Zandik's rough palm, and both only awoke from that daze when they heard a loud bell being rung behind them– the student’s ship had arrived.

“And before you leave!” The Regrator– to Zandik's surprise –took off one of the rings off his fingers, clutching it in his palm. In a quick moment, he was able to put the ring into the palm of the student, and then kiss him on the corner of his lips, separating after a quick second.

While the blue-haired man was stunned and positively confused, to finish off, the banker spoke in a quiet tone: “So you would remember me, and remember to write back– you can return it when we inevitably meet again.” A smile graced his lips.

And Zandik then blinked back to reality, to notice that he hadn't seen that smile before on those lips– this one was sad, almost whimpering. This smile was not to evoke a feeling of safety and trust, to garner favour or good terms– no, this one was put up as the last wall before a complete breakdown.

The student opened his mouth to say something, anything, really, but he was interrupted by a final call from the ship behind him.

He stole a glance at the metal vessel, then to the man before him– the man he fell in love with in a matter of days, and whom he was sure to not forget for a long time.

The Regrator– the man who has yet to give his real name –gives an encouraging nod, and a smile to fit, that shows teeth.

Zandik took one good look at the other, to remember his face, his eyes, his hair, the way he dressed and the way he moved. And with that, he forced himself to get onto the boat with his luggage, his legs feeling like they might give out any second.

With a couple of steps and exchanged words, he's off the solid ground of Fontaine, heading for Sumeru, to return home.

He tells himself to not look back at the dock, to not torture himself with one last look at that man. He was confusing himself with the way he couldn't decide if he wanted to see the banker again or not.

When the boat finally left the harbour fully, and the engine was started, he still kept his head towards the horizon, to the future, not back behind him and in turn, the past week.

Something in his head rang out– some kind of screeching that ate up his entire consciousness. Zandik couldn't even see colours, shapes at that point, all he heard was that screeching.

He had almost lost all understanding and perception of the world, quite literally, he felt like nothing else existed aside from that sound—

Zandik looked behind him, to the dock, the port, to the objects that were now laden with sunlight.

Everything became silent, as he saw the distant dark figure, now kissed handsomely by the sun, stand and hold his hand in a sort of wave of final goodbye.

In that moment, colours and shapes came back, if only to entertain the futile idea of the two men seeing each other for the last time.

The student raised his hand in the same way, to motion some sort of primitive goodbye, even when that figure– the Regrator, became impossibly small.

He only put down his hand when the port blended with the rest of the island it was built at.

The sun was higher now, so Zandik thought of reading that address.

Yet, the first thing he took out was that ring.

He held it in between his fingers, turning it a couple of times to take In the honestly simple design.

The ring was pure silver, surely, a wider band with a purposeful cut in the middle of it that ran through the whole ring.

It was almost laughably simple, the craftsmanship nothing special either.

But, the student understood that without the simple ring, the man in black would be missing an essential part of his look. 

And after inspecting the sign of wear: the scratches, discolouration and the generally unclean metal– he was almost sure the ring carried sentimental value too.

Zandik stashed away the silver band in a safe pocket and unfolded the small paper previously handed to him.

And in that yellowed paper, he saw that a rushed hand wrote down an address.

…Only an address.

…An address was worth nothing without a proper name, especially– if the student remembered correctly –the address was in the most busy street in Liyue.

Dread found its way back onto Zandik's familiar shoulders, clutching him and his lungs to breathlessness.

He tried to look up, foolishly hoping that before him, he could still see that familiar face in close distance, to make sure that that man hadn't just dissipated before him in real time.

But there was no point, in hoping or looking up– Zandik finally realised and formulated the thought that had started to grip at his heart.

The Regrator he knew was left in Fontaine, and now, without his full name, they would never meet each other ever again.

The student let his head fall, closing his eyes.

Everything will return to the way it was before. And he will be alone once more.