Chapter Text
The transition from Scaramouche, a feared harbinger with the powers close to that of a god at his fingertips, to an ordinary scholar was not the easiest rollercoaster to ride. Not for him, not for Lesser Lord Kusanali who took the boy under her wing.
He was then bound to re-learn how to be with people and how to find his own identity. Though, his shoulders carried the haulting weight of grief and regret. Well, it was always there like an aged gunshot wound that still beared damaged nerves and a bad reminder. It just became less aged and in more need of stitches as it abruptly split open. The stitches, however, were yet to be perfected.
The first stitch was Lesser Lord Kusanali. Maybe not super snug, but the needle was pulling it through slowly.
The Sanctuary of Surasthana adopted Hat-Guy as a resident since then. Nahida didn't visit the world outside of her prestigious bliss very much, thus making Hat-Guy a stitch of her own.
Their relationship became near familial. Generously, Nahida provided Hat-Guy's scholarship, a place to stay, and acceptance all for the price of nothing.
And a freebie – accommodating his taste for tea.
That afternoon consisted of yet another quiet teatime. Teatime always took place in one of the many rooms within the sanctuary, around a small table with embroidered green cushions for seats and a carefully designed tea set with gold and earthy shades. Nahida served the same luxuries for Hat-Guy's preference for bitter flavours every time.
"I can imagine you're having trouble adapting to everything since the events with Irminsul," said Nahida with the small of her gentle voice. "As am I. However, I can't help but pity how lost you must feel every time I look you in the eye."
Confused, Hat-Guy drew his attention from his teacup below him to Nahida. "What are you talking about?" he asked, annoyed.
"Well, much like the beginning of your life back in Kannazuka," Nahida started, "I'd assume that it isn't easy to take on a new beginning with only a blurry path to barely trace out."
The other scoffed quietly. "I'm not following."
"Don't you think you deserve a new name for a new life?" she asked, going more off topic by the second. "Like how the people of Tatarasuna named you, a fresh soul to the land?"
Hat-Guy's eyes narrowed as conflicting feelings began to bubble up inside. He decided that he wasn't opposed to the idea. "Very well," he said flatly.
Silence followed.
"What, did you expect me to carry on and give it a think?" Hat-Guy narrowed his eyes and lifted the teacup to the edge of his lips. "This isn't something that I feel like burdening myself with," he continued before savouring the last sip of the tea's bitter haven.
Nahida chuckled softly and brought a finger to the corner of her mouth in thought, "Something easy-going, meaningful too. Hmm…"
"Take your time," Hat-Guy rolled his eyes.
He settled his teacup back on top of its plate with a light clatter. He watched as Nahida studied him, like he was a newly discovered species awaiting a scientifically accurate title.
"Ren," she declared.
"Ren?" Hat-Guy repeated. "Why Ren?"
"It means lotus," she replied. "A symbol for purity, enlightenment, and beauty. I think it's fitting."
"Ren…" the boy muttered once more and looked down at the table between them, observing how it felt on his tongue.
Thrilled, Nahida smiled warmly. "Do you like it? Is it fitting?" she asked eagerly.
Ren's hard expression softened somewhat, though his lips remained a thin line. "It's…" he hesitated, "better than nothing."
Whatever, I was at least relieved to have a replacement for 'Hat Guy'.
Admittedly, the thought of having a name alone was quite touching, even for me. A meaning to go by, a title for my story. I was never going to admit it out loud, no, especially not with how humiliating it sounded to even flicker past my thoughts. Anyway, I finally had something comforting to myself, this time not a symbol for destruction or evil – for I was Ren. Allegedly pure, enlightened, and beautiful. The last two I could agree on. Pure, however, not so much. I'm no saint. Still, it was something – a building block. Ren.