Chapter Text
There she was, twiddling her fingers in the tiny infirmary. I watched her wrap a new set of bandages around her waist and hands. Once complete, she patched her trusty surfboard with a comically shaped bandage. She just finished her last PB&J – a small snack, just enough energy to keep her in check.
This was it, one more fight away from National Glory.
But Mualani’s already had a fair share of that. Today, she fights for herself. For her glory. For her pride. For her redemption.
Losing to Malipo Kinich was nothing to frown about: he was a ferocious opponent who’d suffocate you with his speed, agility, and precision. As her “TV co-star”, he always pushed her to her limit both on and off the island. After Love Island’s first season, everyone flocked in droves when they appeared in public.
However, many people knew little about their sparring history. After their TV debut, the two had fought many times, with each one outdoing the last. By now, they both knew each other's tendencies down to the finest detail: their mannerisms, their ticks, their weak points.
She was certain who’d face her head-on tonight. Like a certain someone, she learned to stay away from any news regarding the tournament results. All that was left was to prepare herself.
A couple of hops, stretches, and thoracic bridge rotations did the trick. By the end of it, she smiled at the scribbled workout list crafted by her good friend Kacchina. She stuffed the paper into her pocket – a good-luck charm to remind her that she wasn’t alone.
Soon enough, those oh-so-familiar trumpets blared through the stadium. Cheers rang through the stone walls, enough to drown out her thoughts. This was it. She was ready.
The introduction led by the archon herself was nothing short of pragmatic. Even from closed doors, she could hear the crowd moved by Mauvika’s swagger and resolve. Before she knew it, she stood inches from the door, ready to kick it open.
“Our first warrior is no slouch on the sand!” The archon roared. “She’s the Queen of the Waves, and she’s diving deep for her first Pilgrimage Victory!”
Mualani laughed, kicking the doors open and hiding. In an instant, the crowd’s eyes darted toward a room that appeared empty.
“Hailing from the People of the Springs, please welcome Natlan’s Savviest tour guide, Umoja Mualani!!!”
Like a tsunami, she rushed towards the centre of the stage, flaunting her shiny surfboard and infectious smile. Gracefully, she twisted her body mid-air to land on her feet, with Sharky following behind her.
Cheers from all around welcomed her to the arena, as she smiled and waved to everyone in attendance. She always lived in the moment: it was one thing to watch matches like these as a kid. It was another thing to see them first-hand.
Her side of the arena was covered in blue – body paint, signs, even horns wearing her signature baby blue. One glance at the other side only confirmed her suspicions – a forest of fans dressed as green as a palm tree leaf.
Soon, everyone stopped, as the doors across from her crept open.
“And now, we welcome her opponent – one she’s all too familiar with!” She continued, as whispers of his name echoed through the stadium.
“He’s one of Natlan’s brightest warriors and defending champion. Hailing from the highest peaks of the Huitztli Hill, please welcome…”
His dark-green eyes pierced through her own. Today, he wanted to kill her.
At least, that’s how she saw it.
“Kinich Malipo!!!”
As the antithesis to Mualani, he walked towards his opponent, dragging his dented claymore behind him. The crowd cheered his name louder than she imagined. In this arena, he was the predator. She was his prey.
He stopped before her, whipping his weapon to rest on his shoulder.
“May the best warrior win,” he gestured, sticking out his hand. “I’m not holding back. I expect the same out of you.”
He always said that – a promise to each other that they’d keep themselves honest. Although she cringed every time he said it, she’d eventually honour his words. It seemed almost poetic that such a fleeting interaction could stay with her for so long.
Despite their “on-screen personas”, these two knew how to fight. Everyone in Natlan did – but these two took it to a whole new level.
“Good luck, and no hard feelings!” she smirked, shaking his hand. “Capiche?”
“Capiche,” he responded, letting go of her hand. The two backed away, awaiting the archon’s final call. Once they were ready, the pair looked up at Mauvika and nodded in response.
“Without further ado, I present the Grand Finals of the 6th Pilgrimage!” She exclaimed. With the crowd backing her, she called the two to action. “May the winner rise from thy ashes!”
And off they went.
Mualani’s strategy was simple: keep moving, make him chase. Unlike in love, honesty and directness would only leave her exposed—and this was the last place she could afford that.
Her first attack was a great example of this. Her normal pufferballs were water balloons – not lethal in the slightest. But on impact, they’d splash everywhere, giving the surfer a small window to land a kick to the side. She’d duck and weave between his aerial attacks, using her trusty surfboard to outmaneuver his fists.
The crowd oohed and awed at each point of contact. Every blow Mualani landed wore him down even more – her plan was executed to a tee.
Until it wasn’t.
Fed up, the hunter aimed a grappling hook right in her flight path. I watched in horror as the dendro rope clotheslined the surfer, sending her diving to the ground.
With the sand clearing, the surfer barely stood up from the heavy impact. Although she’d taken a hit, the fight wasn’t over.
Fortunately for her, Kinich looked just as tired and battered as she did.
Now, their weapons were ditched, and a full-blown hand-fight broke out. Seeing this, the crowd cheered louder.
“Kin-ich!” the green wall chanted. His roundhouse kick was perfectly blocked by the surfer, yet the impact sent her reeling back.
“Mua-lan-ee!” the blue wall and I chanted back, as the surfer nimbly slid under him and swept him off his feet.
The crowd alternated their chants, mimicking who landed the next blow on each other. It had only been four minutes, yet the fight felt like it had gone on for hours on end.
Yet, with every hit passing, his attacks got sloppier. Sure, hers weren’t any better, but one thing kept her pushing.
This was her battle to win. Her moment to seize. She always envied his success, and while it didn’t push her away, it gnawed at her feet like piranhas.
Slowly, his rage couldn’t be contained. Each of his vicious attacks backed Mualani to the wall of the stadium. Right now, she’d put up her hands and absorbed each blow like a sponge. Knowing him, he was focused on overwhelming her with his raw power. Yet, this plan focused his attention on one person – her.
Just like she planned.
Because looming in the shadows, Sharky autonomously swam towards him. It took all her brainpower to command her surfboard. If timed right, she could free herself before the hunter ate her alive.
Blood was in the water, or in this case, the sand. While Kinich desperately tried to break her down, he didn’t notice the missile of water behind him.
And with one last move, she dodged to her left to avoid the oncoming surfboard flying toward the hunter.
BOOM!
It was like an underwater mine had exploded in the arena. While he managed to turn and attempt to block the blast, it was too late. The surging water sent him straight to the wall, with his back crashing into the pillar behind him and creating a dent on-impact.
Mualani wasn’t out of the woods, though. The blast sent her rolling like a tumbleweed in the Sumeru desert. The crowd was convinced the ‘underdog’ won; yet, when the dust settled, the hunter struggled to his feet.
“I didn’t hear a bell,” he mumbled, before throwing himself at her.
Kinich was anything but fine. He fought through broken ribs and even a fractured ankle. A small part of her found it heartbreaking to watch him struggle.
Getting him to surrender made her feel even worse. Every time she’d try to grapple with him, he’d pick her up and throw her like a rag doll. She heard his bones grind against each other every time he picked her up.
But now wasn’t the time for sentiments or mercy. Natlan’s Pilgrimage stated a battle was won when AND ONLY when the fighter could not stand.
She tried one more time. One clean blow could knock her out cold, but this was a risk she had to take. Kinich, even at his weakest, was still Kinich. Natlan’s finest hunter wasn’t known to lose. But as she slammed him to the ground, that blow never came. Whether it was exhaustion, pain, or a mixture of the two, his body waved the white flag for everyone to see.
The final bell was struck. Instantaneously, a switch flipped in her mind. Now, she learned how Kacchina felt after nearly killing her.
“Kinich!” she cried, sliding next to him to examine his wounds. Soon enough, all her suppressed emotions were let loose, tears forming in her eyes. Mualani couldn’t help but worry.
He wasn’t going to die… right?
She didn’t… no, she couldn’t think that. The thought made her vomit.
I sat with her there for a minute as the hunter weakly rolled over and opened his eyes. Her eyes were blurred, as her emotions washed over her face and battered hands. The crowd stayed silent, hoping they hadn’t witnessed a murder.
Thankfully, he used his last bit of strength to stand up. His first attempt nearly failed had she not yanked him upwards. Now, the crowd began to cheer, knowing her competitor was okay.
He faced Mualani with resolution and weakly laughed, making her even more confused.
“This is your moment, Lani,” he coughed, pointing to the crowd cheering for their new champion. “Be shell-fish.”
It was the stupidest sea pun she had ever heard; yet it seemed to calm her down. As a backup plan, his small, genuine smile wiped all her tears away.
“I’ll be okay,” he whispered, using his claymore as a make-shift crutch. “Now go. She’s waiting for you.”
Mualani was conflicted. This was her moment. This was her victory, and she sure as hell earned it.
But what was it to her if she didn’t have him cheering her on?
That small, anxious voice in her head took over. She ran over to him, grabbing onto his arm as a last resort.
“But what about you? Kinich, I should at least-“
Before she could finish her sentence, a weak pair of arms wrapped themselves around her. She could barely hold him up after such an intense fight, but this one small gesture meant more than anyone imagined.
“Go,” he repeated, letting go of her and limping back to the infirmary. “Like we promised.”
The sand was now full of all kinds of spectators, flooding the arena to get a glimpse of Natlan’s newest pilgrimage winner. Of course, the archon’s radiant silhouette stood out from the crowd and loomed over her.
I watched in the shadows, silently clapping and cheering along.
The archon stuck out her hand, offering a crown full of saurian claws, feathers and horns.
“Congratulations, Umoja Mualani!” she echoed, as the crowd cheered her name louder and louder. “This belongs to Natlan's Strongest Warrior. You’ve earned it.”
It was the first time she regretted hosting a party. Her duties as the Pilgrimage champion began right as she left the battlefield. Everyone scrambled to the People of the Springs with dishes, drinks, and all sorts of belongings to celebrate.
Despite the impromptu location shift, the night ran as smoothly as she imagined – everyone had a good time, at least from her vantage point.
The spectacle the two put on would soon be woven into scrolls. With some help from some Fontainian filmmakers, broadcasts of Natlan’s 6th pilgrimage would be viewed by citizens all over the world. With her newfound fame, Mualani single-handedly made Natlan’s tourist industry the biggest in the world, as reports of her most recent whereabouts made international papers.
With the extra boost of income, it was no surprise that this year’s Pilgrimage Feast would be bigger and better. It was tradition that the champion received gifts to bring before their venture to the Night Kingdom. Yet, even with no more abyssal armies to fight, the tradition remained true.
Many of her closest friends brought gifts of all kinds. Kacchina gave her illuminated gemstones from her latest Voyage, ones she could use as a nightstand lamp. Citlali gave her the finest wine from her closet, while almost spilling the bottle on her only formal dress. Even Mavuika gave her a gift – a dazzling, fiery volleyball net, all hand-made and woven by her and Xilonen.
Everyone’s gift made her smile.
But there was still one person left to see.
One that she hoped and prayed was okay.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Tuimaini responded. She knew exactly what (or who) she thought about. “You and I both know how stubborn he can be.”
“That’s-“ Mualani desperately looked to change the subject. “It’s not that… It's just… this is my big win, and yet I feel all crappy about it…”
The thought of him made her slouch in her chair. It was the same hollowness she felt when the two initially broke up oh-so long ago.
But now wasn’t the time to mope or complain. This was her party, for archon’s sake!
It only made her feel worse that she wasn’t in her default happy-go-lucky-good-morning-at 7:30am mood.
“I just wanna-“ she sighed. “I don’t want this to hurt what we have…”
“I hear ya,” she reassured. Tuimaini had her fair share of struggles on the show as well, but like her, she settled for a stoic warrior of Xiao. In a way, their partners were surprisingly similar – so Tuimaini knew exactly how she felt. “Lemme say this: If he were here now, would he want you to mope around?”
She paused.
There was no recollection of the battle in her mind. She blacked out, like usual, to remain as focused as possible. Yet one remained untouched.
This is your moment. Be shell-fish…
Intentional or unintentional, he always had a way with words.
“I know he wouldn’t,” she answered, before sipping a glass of Quepna berry fruit-punch.
“Then there’s your answer!” she laughed. “Now, be a gal, and have some fun, will ya?”
The two continued to chat throughout the night. Apparently, Tuimaini and Ineffa finished exploring Nod-Krai together and met some new friends along the way. The pictures she gathered from her pocket showed a world ripped straight out of a fantasy novel. She couldn’t help but stare in awe.
The two took turns sharing their funniest, dangerous, and adventurous stories. Friends, both local and foreign, gathered to listen, which they welcomed equally with open arms. Her former co-stars in Love Island’s first season joined in, with Yanfei, Mona, and Yoimiya sharing some behind-the-scenes action.
She sat neatly on the barstool and smiled. This was her kind of night. The people, the food, the drinks, the ambience – she lived for this.
So, it felt weird when Tuimaini suddenly grabbed her arm and nearly yanked her out of her chair.
“Sorry to interrupt, Yoimiya,” she chuckled, waving down to someone far in the distance. “But I think someone very special is here to see our champion!”
She parted the crowd into two groups, leaving a narrow valley for a pair of crutches to walk right through. Almost instantly, the group watched with anticipation as a well-dressed guy hobbled right through.
But this wasn’t just any other guy.
It, no, he was hers.
“Congratulations, Lani,” he said sincerely, leaning on one of his crutches to extend his hand. “Sorry, I couldn’t see you earlier.”
Unconsciously, her slouched shoulder raised, her eyes wide like saucers. Hearing his soothing, buttery voice drowned out all the noise around her.
“You’re here!” she exclaimed, holding onto him like a sloth on a tree branch. The two nearly fell over, but Kinich used his new crutches to hoist themselves up.
‘A Match Made in Fire’, ‘Lovers-to-Rivals’, and ‘A Sneak Peek at Natlan’s Peanut Butter and Jelly': Those were some of the many headlines that circled the two.
But here and now, was the same love that couldn't be summarized in one title. The same love that didn’t care if 100 cameras surveyed their every move. One connection rooted in deep trust, care, and affection. One that rose from its ashes to burn brighter than ever.
“What’s with the cast?” she asked, examining his (now casted) foot. “Don’t tell me you ignored the healers and ‘toughed it out’!”
He shook his head.
“I didn’t,” he responded. “It's from Iansan. I can run, but she told me if I rip any part of the cast, she’d personally break my leg.”
She laughed.
“I’ll keep you honest,” she said slyly. “You better not push yourself too hard, especially when you’re still hurt.”
“But I’m not-“
“Ah-ah-ah,” she countered, flicking his forehead. “You heard what I said, mister!”
The group collectively laughed as Mualani offered her seat to him, who happily obliged.
I couldn’t help but giggle. Guess she learned something from me.
“I think this calls for some new headlines!” the archon exclaimed, raising her fourth bottle of wine in the air. Naturally, everyone raised their glass while the two sat there, flustered. “So -hgch- what’s new with Natlans’ fiery phoenix -hgch- lovebirds?”
She gulped.
But right on cue, her partner stepped in.
“Mualani and I,” he answered, “have sparred for a year and a half together. She’s a great opponent and always pushes me to become stronger and smarter.”
Suddenly, a voice pierced through the crowd.
“How do we know that you didn’t let her win?” a woman asked.
For a second, his mood soured. She noticed his shoulders fall before taking a deep breath. He always did this when he was going to explode.
But to her surprise, he didn’t.
“When we sparred, I vowed to her that I gave it my all,” he clarified, clenching his jaw and hiding his disdain behind sharp pronunciation. “We wouldn’t learn anything when sparring if either of us held back.”
The crowd nodded their heads in approval, as Kinich sipped from his glass of Quepna Berry juice to hide his true intentions.
“Yeah,” she agreed, turning to him. “Plus, you’d always kick my ass when we first started! But you know what they say – what doesn’t kill ya makes you stronger!”
A small part of her cringed at her corny dialogue, yet the crowd (and even Kinich himself) seemed enamoured by it.
“Tell us more!” One man announced. “What’s it like sparring with each other?”
“Yeah, tell us more!” Another voice said excitedly.
“Wait, were you guys sparring or sparring?” Another voice questioned.
I would’ve slapped them in the face if I could.
At this point, the two were left with no choice.
They shot a glance at each other. One look was all it took, one nod from each side – and the two began rambling on.
Two hours had passed, and many guests had begun to leave. The woman of the hour watched as the archon breakdanced on a table and nearly knocked a glass into the poor bartender. She was also in charge of cleaning up the scattered bottles around Citlali and Furina after their annual drinking challenge.
She saw enough vomit on that table to keep her away from any alcohol.
Apart from those stunts, the rest of the night was delightful.
Some of Mualani’s closest friends hosted an afterparty at the hot springs, which she planned to visit.
But Kinich had other plans.
“This view is beautiful,” she said. “You always know where to find a good sunset.”
“It’s not complicated. Anywhere high enough, and far enough does the job.”
The two sat peacefully atop my private retreat, munching on a smorgasbord that Mualani had swiped from the buffet. After the crowd around them dispersed, the once intimidating hunter sheepishly asked for a moment of her time, like a high school student asking out his crush.
She always loved how nervous he got when asking her out. She saw right through his somewhat rehearsed lines, watching as he stammered his offer while looking anywhere but her face. Even after all their highs and lows, he still acted like she was his secret, forbidden crush.
She found it adorable. Why wouldn’t she?
It felt disingenuous to believe that Kinich, of all people, did this. Without Love Island, no one believed Natlan’s fiercest hunter was such a softie.
“You looove taking me on sunset picnics,” she said slyly. “Don’t you?”
He shook his head.
“I enjoy spending time with you outdoors – picnics require a blanket, basket, baked goods, and some wine.”
She laughed.
“What world are you from?” she teased, nudging his shoulders. “You can have a picnic anywhere, so long as you have the right food and company!”
“Fair enough,” he concluded.
The two sat in silence, watching each cloud pass over their heads. As his stomach rumbled, he reached into the tiny bag of goods from the party.
Inevitably, his hand pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He showed it to Mualani, who howled in laughter. It was their little ‘running joke’. She was the colourful, vibrant, and sometimes fruity jelly. He was the chunky, grounded, and savoury peanut butter. Together, these ingredients made the sandwich that ‘conquered Love Island’, becoming the first official couple to leave for a “Happily Ever After”.
To him, it was a shame this little nickname was broadcast. Deep down, he wished it had stayed between himself and her. Nevertheless, he loved it when it was shared between the two of them.
He studied her with every glance. That smile was brighter than the sun itself. The gemstones of irises that glistened in the moonlight. That lean she always did when she teased him. The way she’d cross her legs and hum a tune. The way she’d sway back and forth like a palm tree on the beach.
“…you’re staring again,” she grinned, leaning closer.
“…you like when I do that,” he responded, placing a kiss on her temple.
The two sat in silence, watching each cloud pass over their heads. Mualani rested her head on his shoulder before pulling out a small marker from her bag.
“That cast of yours,” she whispered. “Can I sign it?”
Confused, he looked at the girl beside him.
“Why?” He asked. Not out of anger or annoyance, but of curiosity.
“Well, when I first broke my ankle, my auntie and mother tended to me and signed my new bandages.” She explained, pulling the cap off and tossing it aside. “Ever since then, I have always loved signing bandages! I even signed Yoimiya’s before we left to come back home!”
“You did?”
“Yep!” she smiled. “It was a good way for her to remember me – even if we didn’t always see eye-to-eye, she’s always one of my besties!”
“Hmmm…” he thought for a moment before sticking out his 'injured' leg. “You can.”
Like an excited blubberbeast, she clasped her hands in glee before completing her handiwork. Her signature was big, colourful, and bubbly like herself, but she wasn’t done just yet.
She pulled out her half-worn-out lipstick and applied a fresh coat. Once complete, she stamped her signature onto the cast. It wasn’t the first (or last) time she left her stamp on his body.
Finally, she sat up and admired her work. It was perfect.
“All done!” she smiled, her face as red as her signature. “Whaddya think?”
He took a second, processing what had just happened to his leg. After what felt like an eternity, he made his move.
“Thank you,” he said kindly, hugging her tightly. “You are the greatest and weirdest thing to come into my life.”
She always appreciated his honesty, but sometimes she found him to be too blunt at times. This was no exception.
“Huh?”
Noticing her confusion, he let her go and set his sandwich aside before continuing.
“I haven’t been this… close to someone before,” he admitted. “Even now, you always manage to surprise me.”
“Wait, in a good way, right?” she interrupted.
To her relief, he nodded.
“Whew,” she exhaled, before continuing. “Still, what gives?”
He rested his head on her shoulders while wiping some jelly off the corner of his mouth.
“I’m still all new to this – I don’t even know if I do it right half the time. And with you…” He sighed, leaning closer than before. “I am unbelievably happy. But… I am also unbelievably… scared.”
“I hear you,” she acknowledged, rubbing his back.
“I haven’t always been the best partner to you. I’ve yelled, and pushed, and lied, and hurt you in ways that I deeply regret,” he sniffled.
What he said next stabbed her in the gut.
“Some days I wonder when I’ll devolve into my dad.”
This was the secret he held from her – the seed of doubt that split the two in half.
Lionel de Silva Renjuan, son of Jose Renjuan, disappeared after his father had plummeted to his death. To this day, there have been no updates on his whereabouts. Instead, the orphan would be adopted by Chief Wayna, gaining a new name:
“Kinich,” she cooed, holding him close.
Back on the Island, after a stint away from each other, he knew the looming secret that tore the two apart. At that moment, he wasn’t ready to share his true self.
He’d rather kill himself.
But Mualani wanted honesty. If she didn’t get it, she’d never be able to trust him again.
So, with a heavy heart and a deep breath, he leapt off a cliff.
And fortunately, she caught him.
“Don’t say that. You are much better than he ever was,” She softened into a smile, turning her head to face him.
He looked away, almost instinctively. The exact reaction he gave when she recited those same words back then.
Mualani is one of three people who knew what really happened. After his mother abandoned him, he was left with his abusive and drunk father, who didn’t take the loss well. His breaking point came when he was six, when, after a vicious drunken beating, the boy pushed him off that cliff.
Kinich never spoke of the details, but the reason he avoided drinking was clear. What Mualani once dismissed as an ‘over-the-top’ stance masked his deepest trauma. The realization left her guilt-ridden, and she found herself begging for forgiveness.
His hand began to shake as Mualani squeezed him tightly. If she let him go, she worried he'd crumple in her arms.
“I’m scared, Mualani,” he trembled. “What if I get worse?”
Seeing him like this broke her heart. She always knew him to be a kind, honest, and caring beacon of hope. Initially, she kicked herself for not seeing his signs, despite being so close to him. But one thing was certain: Kinich wanted to be honest – even when the truth was anything but pretty.
That was her one concern – the single reason she kept their relationship open for so long. But once he let down his walls, she recognized the person she was looking for stood right in front of her.
“You won’t, Kinich,” she cooed, facing him once more. “I don’t want you to be perfect. I want you to be you. The Kinich that squeezes my palms when we hold hands in the street. The Kinich, who spent four hours reading Citlali's makeup magazines to learn how to braid my hair. The Kinich that wears a Quepna berry fragrance every time we go out, which I bought for him when we got back home together.”
Naturally, she planted a kiss on his lips as she cupped his cheeks: A stamp to ensure she had his devoted attention.
“Just being you is all that I ask, peanut.”
She was sure her sappy speech did just the trick. Yet, he persisted.
“But what if I’m not?” he asked, frowning.
It took a second for Mualani to process his question. Yet, deep down, she knew the answer.
“Then I’ll be here to keep you grounded,” she promised, delicately holding his hands. “You’ll make mistakes – everyone does. But our mistakes aren’t what define us. It’s what we do after, that does. Right?”
He paused, swallowing.
“Yeah,” he responded, wrapping himself around her once more.
“Good.”
The two sat in silence, their breaths slow yet controlled. The two were never the biggest on grandiose showers of affection – it was small moments like these that made the two inseparable. A coffee in the morning, a game of volleyball in the afternoon, and a stargazing trip in the evening. Acts like these compounded over time, giving them the foundation to be the show’s second official couple.
Days on the island turned to weeks: despite the drama and storms around them, the two remained constant. After three seasons, they still hold the first and second longest records for consecutive choices at the reshuffling days. Frequent viewers didn’t ask if the two would ever leave the island together – they wondered when.
“Everyone deserves one person cheering them on. Through highs and lows, thick and thin,” she said genuinely. “Friend, coworker, acquaintance, or partner – everyone needs one person who's always in their corner, no matter how isolated they may be.”
He smiled. Although in that comforting silence, doubt crept into his mind.
“Would you be this ‘close’ to me if we never met on TV?”
It took another second to come up with a response. Kinich always asked such loaded questions – it matched the complex puzzles she gifted him for his latest pilgrimage win.
“Honestly, yeah. You and Kacchina are the people who make my days brighter. Even if you weren’t my partner, I’d be happy to call you my best friend.” She said confidently. “In this alternate reality, I may not hug you or hold your hand all the time, but you’d bet I’d sit up here and enjoy the view with ya!”
“I appreciate that,” he smiled, finishing the remnants of his PB&J. “I feel the same way. Honestly, in that situation, it would take much longer to open up to you… But I’d get there, eventually.”
“Fair enough,” she reasoned, sipping from her bottle of water. “Alright – enough what-ifs! Look over there!”
She pointed over to the vast sea around the hot springs. Above it, courtesy of Yoimiya, a vibrant firework show lit up the night sky. The two could hear chants of joy and awe from the springs below, and their vantage point gave them a picturesque shot of the Metzli Region.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, interlacing his hand in hers.
She nodded, taking in the view.
PEW!
“I love you, Lani.”
PEW! BOOM! BOOM!
“I love you too, Kinich.”
THUD-----BOOOM!”
The next fireworks were so loud, Mualani couldn’t hear what her partner had whispered.
“Sorry, what did you say?” she turned to him, oblivious to the tiny, neatly wrapped gift in his hand.
“I said-”
BOOM! SIZZZLE!
“I wanna give you-“
WHOOSH! BOOM! SIZZZLE!
“…your gift.”
She could barely hear him - her ears began to ring from the nearby light show.
But she looked down and stopped.
WHOOSH!
There it was.
POP! POP! POP!
She stood motionless as Kinich opened the tiny box, setting the neatly tied ribbon aside. Almost on cue, the fireworks stopped, letting him speak.
“I know you’ve gotten a lot of jewelry today, but I want you to have this,” he gestured, grimacing in pain as he shifted onto one knee. “We’ve been together for so long, and I… I want you to grow old with you.”
The blue Lapiz and diamonds were engraved into a golden sun emblem that rested perfectly on the golden ring. She pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. It called to her – holding the same resolve, promises and care I once had.
“You’re the yin to my yang. The jelly for my PB&J,” He laughed, reciting the cheesy (or should I say, ‘peanut buttery’) line they’d always share. “The bright and dazzling sun, to my calm and stoic moon.”
Slowly but surely, the realization set in. This wasn’t just any gift.
It was a proposal.
“So with that in mind…” he said nervously, trying his absolute hardest to keep his eyes on her. “Umoja Mualani,”
The last fireworks soared into the sky.
WHOOSH!
“…with the Wayob as my witness…”
WHOOSH!
“will you marry-“
“YES!”
BOOM! BOOM! POP! POP! POP!
Cheers erupted from the People of the Springs, marvelling at the colourful sky above them. Friends from all over Teyvat raise their glasses to good times and even brighter futures.
Many shared the same sentiment – it was a shame Mualani and Kinich couldn’t join them, but they knew better than to sulk and mope about it.
They were certain the two wanted them to enjoy the party regardless.
“To Mualani! Our newest Pilgrimage Champion!” Mavuika cheered, raising her glass once more.
“To Mualani!” Everyone cheered, hoisting their drinks of choice in the air.
The party raged on like usual, filling the People of the Springs with laughter and joy that once felt rare during the Abyssal War.
I watched as my Mualani’s friends shared even more delicious spreads and dramatic stories. I smiled and looked up.
Just on that hill overlooking the springs lay two phoenixes that rose from their ashes once more.
They were too busy making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to notice my gaze.
It was alright. It was their world now, and I am but a humble spectator.
“Auntie’s always watching over you, Mualani. You and Kinich have done well.”