Chapter Text
Aether was a very curious person in his eyes. At first glance, anyone who knew him would think he was perfect: a kind hero, completely devoted to helping others, even if it delayed him in finding his sister. But... if you looked closer, if you saw beyond what was stupidly obvious to everyone else, well...
You'd see things about him that surely no one would want to know.
Like what, for example? Like the fact that the traveler, in reality, was much closer to breaking than any of the idiots he'd helped. That he was fucking exhausted, and that even getting up another day to do another stupid, useless commission (that clearly wasn't going to bring him any closer to his sister) was going to end up bringing him a million problems. And perhaps, most important of all: he was always surrounded by people. And yet, he always looked alone.
It was pathetic. Almost ridiculous.
Wanderer tried not to get involved in that. It wasn't his problem (obviously) and he didn't plan to waste time solving something the traveler could have resolved with his own hands long ago. But... he couldn't help staring more than he should when he saw him alone. He couldn't help wondering why, despite everything, he kept putting up with all the shit and selfishness of others, as if he were incapable of saying no without losing the value that others had forcibly imposed upon himself.
It was very annoying to see him like that. Why not just say no? Why not tell those who interrupted his journey just to clean up the mess someone else made to go fuck themselves? Why not just ignore the criticism from those who blamed him for not being able to save others, when they themselves fled when danger threatened them? Why keep that plastic smile carved on his face all day?
At this point, the traveler's true self—the one he doubted anyone but his friend had ever known—had probably blurred enough that even the traveler couldn't recognize himself anymore.
And it made him hate him (and ironically, love him) a little more than he already did.
That said, it was time to make a confession that would probably end with him smashing his head against a rock until he lost consciousness.
It's that stupid, ugly smile falling apart that makes it so I can't stop looking at you.
He liked the traveler. Not a little, not in a way that could be reduced to mere physical attraction. Of course not. He liked him in that disgusting, cheesy way that forced him to write ridiculous poems in his notebook whenever he could. In that embarrassing way where he'd be mesmerized staring at the scars on his body, and also those invisible scars he didn't want to show anyone else, but seemed to willingly show him. In that overwhelming way that made him hate himself a little more each day for being unable to stop feeling too much.
Because that kind of sensation, that tickle in the pit of his stomach, that burning on his chest that spread to his arms and rose to his throat, somehow reminded him that loving too much, feeling as much as he did, was the reason he was always abandoned.
And yet, with all those fucking memories of pain and betrayal in his head, he couldn't stop.
Yes, he was fucked. Stupidly and ridiculously fucked. And he was a fucking masochist.
"But... aren't these kinds of feelings a good thing?" Buer asked, reading his thoughts.
A good thing? Of course not! In what kind of world would harboring any kind of feelings for that shitty traveler be considered remotely "good"?
Don't fuck with me.
And get out of my head, damn it!
Buer just let out a small laugh, covering her lips.
"You've become very transparent, you know? I don't even need to read your mind to know what you're thinking."
✧✧✧
So, how did it start?
No fucking clue.
He just woke up one day, after having spent too much time watching him, and realized he was fucked; and that in reality, no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't get him out of his head.
But how? When?
It probably happened after having saved his stupid ass a couple of times, or maybe after having shared a few nights traveling together, sitting in front of the fire doing nothing but looking at each other. Or perhaps, the moment the traveler got up and sat beside him under the stars, not caring about moving away from the rest of his friends at the camp, just to lean against his shoulder after asking permission to do so.
Wanderer squeezed the fabric of his pants tightly and let his head fall against the table, cheeks hot.
Damn it.
He couldn't stop thinking about that.
"EHHHH? Hat Guy died again, traveler!" Paimon exclaimed, horrified.
"He's not going to die, Paimon. Albedo said he'll be fine after a few days," Durin replied immediately.
"Then why is he still acting like that?! Paimon's going to die of fright!"
"Maybe just because he's embarrassed..." Durin whispered, with a small smile.
Wanderer turned his head, just to glare at Durin. The dragon covered his mouth with his hands before starting to laugh and running away.
He was going to kill him later.
The traveler let out a soft, carefree laugh, before approaching and removing his hat.
"Are you okay?" he inquired, sliding his fingers gently over his cheek. "Is it possible you have a fever? Do you want me to call Albedo to check on you?"
Wanderer grabbed his fingers, pulling them away from his face, cheeks even redder, and squeezed them tightly, without hurting him.
"Call him and I'll cut off your hand," he threatened. If Albedo saw him, he'd immediately know what was wrong. And he didn't want to hear him say he should be "honest" with what he felt.
As if being honest hadn't gotten him into trouble before.
Aether burst out laughing, a little louder.
"You want us to stay like this then?"
Wanderer turned his head so he wouldn't have to look at him, and held the traveler's fingers a little more gently this time.
"Don't ask stupid questions."
Aether pulled up a chair and sat beside him, intertwining their fingers under the table. Wanderer could only close his eyes tightly, face completely red.
✧✧✧
Wanderer had a problem. A pretty big one. And no, it wasn't just that he had these stupid feelings for the traveler. The big problem was that this same miserable idiot seemed to reciprocate somehow.
And why did he think that? First, because he looked at him in a very intense way, and didn't seem interested in hiding it. Second, because he acted like an asshole around him, completely different from that shitty prince attitude he used with everyone. And third... because he always found an excuse to touch him. Whether it was caressing his face while pretending to remove dirt that clearly wasn't there, holding his hand, or pressing closer to him every time they stopped to rest.
All of this with a strange smile, one he'd never seen him make before.
Although he wasn't sure if he was just confusing all those signals and all these ridiculous emotions were rotting his brain.
No one had ever liked him before. At least, not in the cheesy, selfless way the traveler seemed to be interested in him. There was always a dirty, strange desire involved, a perverse interest in subduing him. But... he didn't seem to feel any of that. And neither did Wanderer.
How the fuck was he supposed to know if the other person felt the same? I mean... if Aether wanted him, shouldn't he look at him the same way those pigs did? Shouldn't he want to possess and humiliate him? Shouldn't he want to do indecent things? Because humans only saw love as something they could use and discard at will. And if it didn't bring pleasure, or any other kind of instant gratification, what was the point of pretending to do it?
Did Aether even know that Wanderer wasn't capable of doing something as absurd as having sex? He was a fucking puppet. He had no sexual organs, much less libido. Apart from his mouth, there was nothing else Aether could even think about using. And yes, maybe it would be nice the first few times, but... what if he wanted more? What if he got bored? What if he started thinking he was insufficient? What if he discarded him to look for someone else who could give him all the things he could never give him?
He wasn't sure he wanted to go through something like that. He wasn't even worth enough for that.
Ah.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
I'm overthinking, aren't I?
Because there was no way Aether could want him if not in that way.
Or so he said.
Because there they were again, walking together through Sumeru's night market, holding hands with the excuse of "not losing sight" of each other.
In the first place, it was like two in the morning, the stalls were closed, there weren't enough people nearby for that stupid idea to have even crossed their minds. Even so, Aether had said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and Wanderer, like a fool who wasn't sure how much to repress what he felt, decided to listen to him and follow. Not without having insulted him a couple of times first.
"Your hand is cold," he murmured, caressing the back with his thumb.
A small shiver ran through him from head to toe and he forced himself to press his lips together, pretending he didn't care.
But... of course he did, because...
I can't get you out of my head.
"And what did you expect, idiot? I'm a puppet," he replied, looking away.
He wasn't designed to have something like temperature. Although he shouldn't even be able to blush, but for some reason, he did.
"It's not a complaint. The truth is it's very refreshing. It's always so hot in Sumeru."
Yeah, you always say things like that.
Only someone like you could see something good in me.
"I'm not your personal freezer."
Aether smiled, pressing a little closer to him.
"I never said you were."
Wanderer squeezed his hand tightly before kicking him in the shin.
"Ouch! Why was that?!" he protested, with a pained and amused grimace on his face.
Wanderer kicked him again.
"Aaaaa, stop already..."
Insufferable bastard.
✧✧✧
Lately he hadn't been writing as frequently as he used to. His fourth notebook had run out, so he was waiting for an opportune moment to buy another. Buer offered to give him one, but he was sick of the old smell of the strange notebooks she got from the Akademiya.
Although he postponed the search for a good one, assuring himself he didn't need to write to cope with all the emotions he felt. He was clearly underestimating himself, because if he were so good at managing his internal thoughts, he wouldn't have filled four notebooks with poems and stupid words. And, of course, he wouldn't be pulling his hair while deciding between jumping off a cliff or asking the traveler once and for all what the fuck was wrong with him.
As always, Aether usually appeared with the right answer. Or with something completely opposite to what he expected, but similar to it.
"What the fuck is this supposed to be?" he questioned, looking at the rectangle wrapped in brown paper as if he were seeing an alien. Oh, Aether was a descender, he counted as one, didn't he?
Aether frowned.
"What do you mean what is it? A gift for you."
"Why? Are you here to thank me for pushing you off the cliff the other day?" he questioned, mockingly.
It should be clarified that he did it because the traveler was acting like a coward. And because it was always good to kick his ass from time to time.
It was almost as therapeutic as writing in his notebook.
"It's not because of that!" he protested, cheeks red.
The raven-haired man raised an eyebrow.
"Then why? Speak up, I don't have all day."
Aether took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face.
"I noticed you haven't been writing anything for a while. And Nahida told me you ran out of notebooks and wanted to find a more suitable one."
"Yeah, one that doesn't smell like dead old people."
Aether smiled sideways.
"It didn't smell that bad."
"You threw up the first time I opened it," he reminded him, arms crossed.
The blond turned completely red.
"It was because I had an upset stomach that day!"
Yeah, sure, traveler. You and your cheap excuses.
"So? Aren't you going to accept it?"
Wanderer looked at the poorly wrapped gift again and narrowed his eyes, looking at him accusingly.
"It doesn't come with ulterior motives? Last time I got something from you I had to start giving you flowers for my fucking birthday."
The traveler's eyebrows began to tremble.
"Can't you just take it? I promise you don't have to do anything."
He hesitated a moment more before taking the ugly package from his hands. And a little more before tearing the paper and finally getting to the famous notebook.
His eyes opened slightly when he came across the cover.
It was a hardcover notebook in dark blue, with white and gold details painted by hand. It came with two matching pens and one of them could change the ink to different colors. The pages were white (not like his other shitty-colored notebooks) and came with a small dotted design. They had that new book smell, the kind that made you want to bury your nose in it. And perhaps, best of all, it came with a small lock slot, so he didn't have to worry about leaving it somewhere and nosy Paimon trying to read it.
It was perfect. Everything he was looking for to be able to vomit his feelings without feeling like throwing himself into a boiling volcano. Even the color-changing ink thing... how did he know he liked that? He hadn't told anyone...
No, how did he get all this? Why was he giving this to him? Why give him a gift, if he had no need to do so?
Aether stood watching him in silence, expectant, as if he wanted to hear something about what Wanderer thought of the gift. But... what could he tell him?
He couldn't be honest and tell him he liked it, of course not. He wasn't stupid. And there was no fucking way he could do that. He couldn't even think about thanking him without losing his only functional neuron at that moment.
So he opted for plan B. Be a shitty asshole.
"Not bad. At least it doesn't smell like shit"
Aether opened his eyes very wide at that moment before sketching a huge smile.
"I'm glad you like it! I met someone in Fontaine and they helped me make it."
No fucking way.
The traveler had made it?
✧✧✧
Being honest with his feelings was shit. Of course it was. Because... how was he supposed to react now that he'd just read the dedication Aether left him in his fucking notebook?
"For Murasame.
You will be unique in the world for me. I will be unique in the world for you."
"Oh, it's a new notebook. It's very pretty, Hat Guy," Durin replied, peeking beside him with curiosity.
Durin sat beside him, pressed against his side, as he'd been accustomed to do since he was a dragon, and waited for Wanderer to put the notebook away or tell him he couldn't look at it. Since he didn't, he peeked a little more, with curious eyes, until he could read the dedication.
"Oh, it's a phrase from the story."
Was it... from a children's story?
"How do you know that?" he inquired, looking at him in surprise.
"Because Aether read it to me the other day."
Durin hurried to search inside his backpack, until he found a hardcover book with a blond boy drawn on the cover.
"It's The Little Prince," he explained, opening it to search through the pages.
Durin really liked children's stories, he always had. Perhaps, because his own existence began in Simulanka, as the dragon everyone was afraid of. Aether liked them too, so from time to time, he took the opportunity to tell him some he'd heard on his travels through the stars. He didn't forget, because he always positioned himself close enough to hear most of them. He couldn't let him put shit in that kid's head, right?
Or so he said every time Albedo dared to insinuate otherwise.
But... he didn't remember hearing about The Little Prince.
"Oh, Aether told me about it while Albedo was repairing you," he replied, as if he could read his mind.
Of course he did. That kid had a mind too sharp for his own good. Couldn't he just stay as an innocent kid who asked annoying questions?
"Here it is," he pointed to an illustrated page, where the blond boy dressed in white was with a small fox. Wanderer came closer to read better.
"What does 'tame' mean?
"It's something too often forgotten" said the fox. "It means 'to create ties'."
"Create ties?"
"Yes" said the fox. "To me, you're still nothing more than a little boy just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you have no need of me either. To you I'm nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But, if you tame me, we'll need each other. You'll be unique in the world for me. I'll be unique in the world for you..."
"I'm beginning to understand" said the little prince. "There's a flower... I think she's tamed me..."
"It's possible" said the fox. "On Earth we see all kinds of things...!
Huh? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
Wanderer looked at Durin, even more confused, and the dragon smiled knowingly, very amused.
"I can read the whole thing to you if you want. Aether taught me how to do the voices!"
Eh?
✧✧✧
Somehow, he ended up spending the rest of the afternoon listening to Durin reading the children's story while imitating the voices he thought the characters would have. At some point, Paimon and Nilou joined to hear the story. Wanderer pretended not to be fully interested, but listened attentively to each of the words the dragon said.
Of course he did. How else could he better understand Aether's dedication?
"The time you wasted on your rose makes your rose so important," Durin continued, imitating the fox's voice.
Wanderer narrowed his eyes, looking at the notebook still open in his hands. He turned the dedication page, and on the next blank page, he wrote.
What am I to you?
A tamed fox, or the rose you can't let go?
Probably the fox, right? Because the person he was looking for, the person he started this journey for...
Keeps running from you.
✧✧✧
Throughout his life, Kunikuzushi heard all kinds of stories and even came to invent some to make that sick child sleep at night. Scaramouche, on the other hand, burned children's books, unable to bear the weight of the memories they brought with them. But... Wanderer just felt strange every time he heard them. A strange mixture between nostalgia and sleepiness. As if there were still something of Kunikuzushi left inside him that found comfort losing himself in each of these words.
"What are you thinking about, Hat Guy?"
Wanderer looked away from his notebook, focusing on Nilou, who had moved away from the group to sit beside him by the river.
He closed the notebook and set it aside, just so he could bring his legs to his chest.
"About the story," he murmured.
He was thinking about many things, and at the same time none. Like what it meant to be cracking his head trying to decipher the dedication of a ridiculous children's book. Or what it meant that Aether wanted to be by his side, even though neither of them felt what they were supposed to feel. Or how his whole body seemed to react every time they were together. Lately he'd been thinking a lot about him. About how much he wanted to plant himself in front of him and give him a good punch before demanding some answers. But... he was a coward. He was so scared of the answers, of having to face what it meant... That he feared trying to flee and destroy a little more of what was left of the two of them.
He could ruin it. He was probably going to ruin it, because Wanderer always destroyed everything he touched. How could he even think about touching the traveler, without fear of shattering what little was left of him? What if he hated him? What if he hated himself more?
After all... Wanderer was just a puppet. He shouldn't experience any of this. He shouldn't even be capable of loving someone the way he did. Perhaps... his life would have been infinitely easier if he didn't have a soul. Or... if he were just an empty puppet, as his mother wished him to be.
"It's a beautiful story, isn't it?"
"I'm not very sure about that," he snapped, with a sarcastic smile.
She looked at him with her curious blue eyes, tilting her head.
"You mean because of the goodbyes?"
He looked away.
Yeah, probably, right? Because it was full of them. And if Wanderer was the fox, didn't that mean Aether would abandon him at some point too? That he'd keep living as if he hadn't meant anything.
"I don't know."
Lie.
But, how could he even think about telling her? A human like her, who loved and was loved by many... how could she even understand everything he was feeling?
"My favorite part was about the fox," she continued talking. "But not because it was sad, but because it reminded me of something important. Maybe all the people he met were like little foxes for the little prince, but... the simple fact of talking to them, of knowing them, made them different from the others. And even if their paths separate someday, the friendship... No, the ties they formed, won't break."
"You and I are foxes, just like everyone else."
Nilou smiled sweetly.
"Maybe I am. But... I'm very sure you're the most special fox he's met. Perhaps... you might even resemble the flower he's looking for."
He bit his lips hard.
"It's not me..." he murmured, bringing a hand to his face. "The flower he's looking for... it's not me."
The redhead kept looking at him with understanding.
"How can you be so sure of that?"
Because there's no way it's me.
There's no way I'm precious to anyone.
Not even to someone like him.
Wanderer hugged his knees tightly. The girl stayed beside him looking at the stars for a while, in silence, without pressuring him. He was grateful she had some tact, because he wouldn't have tolerated someone continuing to try to get answers out of him.
This was pathetic, wasn't it? It was just a fucking children's story. It didn't have to mean anything. Maybe, that idiot was just being nice, like he was with everyone. Maybe, he just wanted to feel cool writing a generic phrase from a shitty book that didn't exist in this world. Perhaps... maybe he was just tired and his mind had decided that he, who had never demanded anything from him, was the perfect place to distract himself in the meantime.
It had to be that, right? Because otherwise... he had no other explanation.
"You know, Hat Guy..." she spoke, after a while. "Emotions can be complicated. But... drowning in them and rejecting them won't give you any answers. You know that well, don't you?"
"And what should I do then?" he snapped. "Go up to him and demand answers? Don't be an idiot."
Nilou smiled patiently.
"You like to write, don't you? Just keep doing it until you have your answers. And don't worry about what he feels. Just be true to what you feel."
✧✧✧
What is essential is invisible to the eye.
He hoped whoever wrote this shitty story was dead. If not, he'd beat the name out of the traveler and go bury them himself.
How was it possible that such a simple story, that even a dumb kid could read, had so many hidden mysteries? Or was it that Wanderer was becoming stupid from spending too much time with Paimon?
"Oh! Why are you looking at Paimon like you're thinking something bad about her?!" she squealed, with that annoying high-pitched voice of hers.
Oops.
"Don't ignore me, Hat Guy!"
He activated his vision and flew far away, where no one could bother him. He headed to Port Ormos, toward the Pharos Lighthouse, a place away from all those annoying human beings. It was abandoned, he only came here from time to time to water the plants, but only because Buer asked him to. Otherwise, it would be much more neglected.
Here he could relax for a while and stop thinking. Or so he thought, until he saw Aether hiding precisely in his secret place, sitting on the shore, watching the waves crash against the shore. Damn bastard. He showed him this place once, but he didn't expect him to dare use it whenever he felt like it.
He thought about turning around and looking for another place to relax for a while. And he was about to, at least, until Aether turned just enough to brush some blond hair from his face and saw him from the corner of his eye.
Shit.
✧✧✧
He hadn't been able to write a single decent poem since he read that book. So he was pretty pissed. He wished at least Aether would have given him some respite today, but he always had to be fucking with him, didn't he?
He wanted to hit him. Smash his head against the stone railing. Anything rather than keep being here. But his fucking body enjoyed Aether's presence too much, so apart from staying seated beside him like an idiot, he couldn't do much more than just stay quiet and curse silently while hoping some apparently dead mythological creature from Sumeru would decide to appear from the middle of the ocean and attack them.
It didn't seem like such a far-fetched idea, considering this idiot beside him was always bringing trouble.
"Are you upset?" he asked after a while.
"No. What makes you think I'm angry?" he questioned, full of irony.
What the fuck? Did everyone suddenly learn how to read Wanderer's poker face? Why did everyone suddenly seem capable of understanding him?
"Murasame," he murmured, pressing his lips together.
Why are you calling me by my name now?
"What the hell do you want now? Why don't you just shut up?"
Aether ignored his provocation, as he usually did when he wanted answers.
Damn it. Maybe, he should start thinking about leaving far away now, before either of them made a mistake.
"Durin told me he read you The Little Prince. And that you didn't like it."
No, he didn't.
"Because it's a shitty book," he replied automatically, focusing on some flowers growing on the shore, pretending they were a thousand times more interesting than this conversation.
Aether pressed his lips together.
"I... thought if you read it, you'd like the dedication."
At first he liked it, but... how was he supposed to treasure it if he knew perfectly well what it meant? And if Aether didn't think about it when writing it, then he had the intelligence of a rock.
He was tempted to tear out the page, but he hadn't. He couldn't. He still had the stupid hope it meant much more than what he decided it meant.
"I hated it."
And because of it he couldn't write in his new notebook.
Aether squeezed his hands on the stone railing and shrugged.
"I'm sorry. I didn't do it with that intention."
Wanderer pressed his lips together.
"Why are you apologizing?"
"Because I don't want to cause misunderstandings between us."
"Like what? Like making me believe for a second that I'm more special than all the shitty people you've met on your journey?" he questioned, with an amused smile.
His golden eyes opened very wide for a moment, before filling with pain.
"No, I... that's not what I..."
Stop.
Shut up.
I don't want to talk about this.
"No, what? Speak clearly, traveler," he continued, stressed, taking a step back. "I'm sick of playing this game. I feel like shit every time we're together and you have the luxury of trying to play house with me. And you're not even capable of telling me what you want from me?"
Stop. Stop. Stop. Shit.
Damn it. Shut up. Don't ruin it. Don't ruin it.
But... what else could he do? He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't go on like this. He hated continuing to walk in circles, not knowing what to do. Why couldn't he just be clear and tell him it was enough? That he didn't need metaphors or shitty phrases to get rid of him...
"It's not a game for me," he said simply.
"Then what is it? Because I don't understand! One moment I'm a special person to you. And the next... I'm just like the rest of the people you met. Why the fuck are you doing this? Why me? You know perfectly well that I..."
I...
He fell silent, looking away, and lowered his head, letting his hat hide part of his face.
No, he didn't know. He had no way of knowing.
This was his fault. He was the one who confused the signals, because there was no way, right? It was ridiculous to think that for a moment, Aether could have felt more for him than what he felt for the rest of the world. After all... he'd only stay here for a while. When he found what he was looking for, when he had his stupid rose in his hands, he'd leave for the next world and he'd stay here, alone.
He'd be abandoned again. And this time, because he was too stupid to stop his feelings.
"Murasame...!"
"Shut up. Don't call me that," he took another step back, activating his vision. "I don't want to hear you say it again."
And he left, like the coward he was, without giving him time to say anything. Because... what was the point, if he knew the answer perfectly well?
✧✧✧
Wanderer didn't cry. Or so he told himself every time his eyes burned and he had to make a phenomenal effort not to shed tears. Because he was a puppet, right? Puppets shouldn't be capable of doing something like that.
Except this time, he was too tired to even think about trying to stop them.
After flying for a while, he sat on the sand, on a beach a few kilometers from where they were. He didn't give a shit about knowing the location, he just wanted to stay there for a while and cry quietly until all that garbage in his head disappeared.
It was so stupid... why the hell did he have to make a scene? Couldn't he just stay quiet, listen to whatever the traveler had to say and then go cry somewhere else?
He didn't react like this. He shouldn't react like this. But... he felt so stupid, he was so afraid of hearing it... that he could only think about hurting him before fleeing. Like a fucking scared little animal.
He sighed heavily, throwing his head back for a moment. The hat fell to the sand, but he didn't bother to pick it up. He just closed his eyes, hoping the sun setting on the horizon would somehow fry what little brain he had left. But it wasn't going to happen, of course not. He wasn't particularly interested in dying anymore. He just wanted to somehow stop the suffering. Maybe, by stopping overthinking.
When he got back, maybe, he could burn Durin's book, get rid of his notebook and pretend none of this had happened. Except he couldn't do any of those things without hurting the kid and hating himself a little more.
This is your fault. If you didn't have your hopes so high... you would have accepted this was just platonic.
Wanderer opened his eyes again and let himself fall backward, lying completely on the sand. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, he saw him standing there, upside down, breath somewhat agitated and shoulders rising and falling, as if he'd just been running nonstop for a few kilometers.
It couldn't be, right? Surely it was just an illusion.
He closed his eyes, pretending he hadn't seen anything. And let the tears keep flowing freely.
Aether wasn't there. He couldn't be.
Not even an hour had passed since he left. He couldn't catch up that fast.
"Really? You're going to give me the silent treatment?" he questioned, apparently indignant.
"If I have to, yes," he replied.
Aether dropped heavily beside him on the sand.
"Fine. Do what you want. Just listen to me, okay? If after hearing it you still think the same, I'll understand. And I'll leave you alone."
Wanderer didn't respond.
"I really like The Little Prince. My sister and I had it read to us when we were little. But... I could never understand it, at least, not until I lost Lumine here. After that, it started to make a lot of sense to me. And I started to hate it too, because it reminded me how happy I was before I lost everything," he explained in a low voice. "At first, Teyvat was just a momentary stop for me. And the people I met here... well... I guess I put up a barrier between us so I wouldn't get attached to them. After all, my plan was to find her quickly and leave here soon. Why should I get attached if we'd never see each other again? But... she's the princess of the Abyss, and well, things never go as you want. So I ended up making many friends in Teyvat as I traveled, and I started to see it as my home."
Wanderer began to bury his fingers in the sand, eyes open now, but not looking at him. He was just going to keep listening.
"And then... I met you," he pressed his lips together. "Scaramouche. And I hated you. I hated you so much for everything you did to Teppei... for what you did to Nahida, for what you did to me. But... life is so absurd sometimes. I was supposed to hate you, I should have killed you for everything you did, but in the end, Nahida and I decided to spare your life. You were so broken, so shattered, that honestly I didn't expect you to try to get up again. And with the Irminsul thing, well... you just kept changing more and more the idea I had of you," Aether scratched his neck, a little nervous. "Look, I... I know I'm a mess. I know you realized I pretend I'm fine most of the time, that I'm tired, because I don't want to worry others, but... when I'm with you, I..."
Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't give me more hope.
"I feel good. Like I don't have to hide anything, or pretend to be something more than what I really am. You never demand anything from me. You make fun of me, you treat me like I'm a bother and you hate it when I try to do things for you. You're the most authentic and shameless person I've ever met. Sometimes I love you, I feel like taking your hand and hiding from the world with you. And other times, I just want to hit you. You're so broken, you're so proud and stubborn, but... you keep refusing to let anyone else pick up the pieces. And you keep being here for me despite everything."
Wanderer bit the inside of his lip hard, and did what he could to contain the new wave of tears threatening to fall.
Don't do this to me. Don't make me believe I'm important to you.
Because... I'm just another fox.
And I shouldn't be more than that.
"I wrote that dedication because I love you. And because I want you to know that no matter where I am, I always think of you. Because yes, I've met hundreds of people on my journey, but you're the only one who's different. And that's not going to change, even if at some point I find Lumine. You're my number one, Murasame. I love you. I love you so much, more than I've ever loved anyone. So please..." Aether's voice broke. And Wanderer finally turned to look at him, eyes full of tears and lips trembling. "Please... don't ever say something like that again. Don't you dare think for a moment that you're not special to me."
✧✧✧
If I could close my eyes and make a wish,
I'd probably wish I could stay one more second by your side.
Or maybe, that you could see yourself with the eyes I see you with.
Because you're really lucky, you know?
I can't live without you,
even though I can't even live with myself.
But I don't want you to save me.
And I'm not going to save you again.
I just want to be here, with you,
even if everything starts falling apart.
Aether looked really ugly when he cried. It was so ironic it was even funny. The complete opposite of tears in fairy tales.
Wanderer sat up on the sand, still with blue eyes shedding some tears, and poked his red cheek with an amused smile.
"You look so ugly crying, bastard..."
Aether opened his eyes for a moment before frowning and puffing out his cheeks, pretending to be upset.
"Forgive me for not being as perfect as you! Damn it, why the hell do you have to look so good even when you cry?! I can't even make fun of you for that..."
Yeah, that was better.
That face suited him much better. He looked attractive, even.
"I can't take seriously someone with fish eyes."
"Aaaaaa you're a bastard..."
He must love him too much to be able to see his flaws and just laugh at them, right? Because clearly both of them were full of them. If he could only love the good things... would his feelings really be real? I mean... could he really have been capable of loving someone without being able to look at their scars? Weren't the parts that couldn't be seen the most interesting?
The perfect traveler was boring. But the wounds he kept underneath... probably someone like him could never heal them. And he wasn't going to try. That wasn't his role. Wanderer just... just wanted to keep walking beside him, while they learned to tolerate the shitty world a little more while they kept walking side by side.
Fuck the power of love. This wasn't a fairy tale that helped kids sleep. It was the real world. Or something stupid that resembled it. And Wanderer was never going to end up liking it, but... it felt a little more bearable now that Aether lived in it.
"Aether," he murmured, much more serious, sitting in front of him on the sand.
Aether tensed, immediately positioning himself in front of him.
"Murasame," he repeated, focused.
Wanderer let out a small laugh.
"I can't concentrate if you do that."
The blond smiled sideways.
"Sorry, I'm a little nervous. I've never confessed before."
Hmpf. He was lucky then.
"Get serious, stupid. This is important,"
He stretched out his hand to take Aether's, and held it in his fingers, looking away for a moment.
"I'm a puppet, understand?" Aether nodded once. "I'm not like human beings. I don't have body temperature, I don't age, I don't need to eat to survive. I can't have sex with you either. I don't even have a fucking heart that can beat fast when I'm with you. I might not even understand what I'm feeling and try to push you away or hurt you."
The traveler kept looking at him in silence, waiting for him to finish.
"We might never be able to have a normal relationship. Even so... do you say you love me?"
Aether took his hands gently, before placing a soft kiss on the back. And then he nodded, with a bright smile.
"Even so," he murmured. "I love you, Murasame."
Murasame's eyes shone. And his lips trembled for a moment before a small laugh escaped them.
You love me, huh?
He hoped someday he'd be able to say it without wanting to die first.
He'd just have to make him work hard for it the rest of their lives, wouldn't he?