Chapter Text
Amidst the heated competition, Alhaitham spots a glimpse of Kavehs golden hair before he's swallowed up by the ongoing fights again. The objective of this last trial, determining the victor of this year’s Interdarshan Championship, is to take possession of the infamous Diadem of Knowledge and place it upon a wooden display, currently a few metres in front of Alhaitham.
He was chosen to be one of the judges for the competition. And even though he declined the position multiple times, the Akademiya still found a way to appoint him to the job.
Well, he supposes it has some entertaining qualities, and watching Kaveh struggle with his ideals and his goal to win the championship has given Alhaitham some interesting new material for his research (at this point he could probably write several papers if he wanted to) into their opposing philosophies.
Suddenly, a figure bursts out from the dust cloud, stirred up by the battles for the diadem, and rapidly, yet unpredictably approaches the jury tent and wooden display.
It’s Kaveh, Alhaitham realises with surprise.
He’s clutching a small, teal, Anemo-powered contraption with one hand, while it flings him around wildly mid-air.
With the other hand he holds a glistening ring made of metal, no… it’s the Diadem!
The small mechanism abruptly loses its powers and, together with the man hanging onto it, falls to the floor.
Kaveh hits the ground with an audible thump. Thankfully, he wasn’t suspended high enough above the ground to have sustained any serious injuries. (Just a few bruises and some scraped skin.)
Within a few seconds Kaveh is on his feet again, taking quick steps towards the cushioned display. He stops in front of the standee and looks up to catch Alhaithams gaze, as if to say, Hah! Told you so!
Alhaitham grits his teeth and watches as Kaveh theatrically lifts his hand and places the diadem in its rightful spot. As soon as the crown touches the cushion, an excruciatingly loud horn goes off, marking the end of the competition.
He…won.
Alhaitham quickly double checks the scores marked down on the clipboard in front of him.
Kaveh actually won.
Even though his ideals cost him points in the first round and he barely made it back from the desert in time because he foolishly gave away all his supplies to desert foxes, he still managed to emerge victorious.
An unpleasant feeling manifests in Alhaithams chest, but he doesn’t know what to make of it.
Shouldn’t he be happy for Kaveh, or at the very least be unaffected by his victory?
So why does it feel like he just took a punch to the stomach? He doesn’t know… but however much he would like to solve the problems he encounters as soon as they emerge, he can’t just yet, because to his own dissatisfaction, he still has a job to do.
Sighing, Alhaitham stands up from his seat and walks the short distance to where Kaveh is still standing. Nilou, who has taken up the responsibility of judge alongside Alhaitham, trails after him.
Her melodious voice rings through the static air as she congratulates Kaveh excitedly. Awkwardly, Alhaitham stops, staring into the distance.
What should he say to Kaveh now? Any form of praise for his admittedly stellar performance would just be interpreted as disingenuous, or worse, mockery. But not saying anything is also not an option, considering what Kaveh’s victory means for both of them and their current livelihoods.
The other Darshan representatives slowly join the small celebration as well, a mixture of disappointment and happiness on their faces.
Tighnari instantly runs towards Kaveh to applaud his victory. The two start up a lively conversation, a few words bleeding through the avid chatter and catching Alhaithams attention. He snaps out of his increasingly circular thoughts and finally heads over to Kaveh and Tighnari.
“I suppose congratulations are in order, considering you just won yourself a hefty sum of Mora.” Alhaitham says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Tsk.. don’t sound so pleased, you’re just happy that I’m finally able to move out.” Kavehs tone instantly shifts to the usual defensiveness his voice only takes on when arguing with Alhaitham.
“Hmm… hardly. I just want you to pay the rent you owe me.” As soon as he says it, Alhaitham knows that that’s not the full truth. A tight feeling settles in his chest again, increasingly irritating now.
“Hah… right, of course you would only care about your precious Mora… why did I expect anything else.” Kaveh turns back around, signalling he’s done talking to Alhaitham.
Great… just great.
Why did he say that? He should know better by now.
Living with Kaveh for the past few months has given him a much better grasp of what upsets him, so these days he’s usually able to avoid such topics. (Except of course when he purposely tries to rile Kaveh up.)
But just now he didn’t think, because if he had, he wouldn’t have said what he did.
Alhaitham turns on the noise-cancelling function of his earpieces. He tries to calm his rapid thoughts, clenching and unclenching his fists while he walks back to the judges pavilion.
————————
“Okay, that should be the last box.” Kaveh stands in the foyer, a large cardboard box in his hand. On it, he wrote the word “work” in his neat but somewhat chaotic handwriting.
Alhaitham, sitting on the couch with a book in hand, hums in vague acknowledgement.
When he finally looks up, Kaveh has already left the room.
A few minutes later Kaveh returns with a small sigh. He leans against one of the wooden boulders making up the entryway to the living room and crosses his arms.
After a nervous pause in which Alhaitham considers starting the conversation first, since Kaveh apparently has no intent on doing so himself, Kaveh finally speaks.
“I’ll be off now. Just wanted to let you know…” He turns around again, walking towards the front door without waiting for an answer or acknowledgment from Alhaitham.
A familiar (and incredibly irritating) heaviness settles in Alhaithams chest again, his mind racing to find something to say, something to make Kaveh stop in his tracks and look back.
But why?
Shouldn’t he welcome this situation?
After all Kaveh’s move means, the peace Alhaitham’s house had harboured for years and which he’d quietly yearned for ever since he let Kaveh move in with him is about to return. Along with the predictability his routine had long since lost with Kavehs chaotic presence in his life.
Given all this evidence, anyone, including Alhaitham would assume that he would, at best be happy about Kavehs move and at worst, wouldn’t care where Kaveh lived (given it was an actual house or apartment instead of a booth at Lambads).
Alhaitham is ripped out of his thoughts by a sharp pain radiating though his left knee, as he looks down he realises he’s jumped up and in his haste, hit his leg on the corner of their, no his coffee table.
He curses quietly, but continues towards the front door. He needs to catch Kaveh, needs to… What?
Theres nothing Kaveh hasn’t done yet, no practical nor logical reason for him to stay even a minute longer.
Except…
Alhaitham’s eyes land on a small bowl, it’s a shallow ceramic dish. The outer side was kept in the clay’s natural colour while the inside was painted with a teal and red accentuated lotus pattern. It is one of the few decorative items Kaveh insisted on, specifically to store their keys.
Keys…The bowl currently only houses Alhaitham’s. Kaveh’s, on the other hand is pointedly absent, which means he must still have it on his person somewhere.
Alhaitham slows to a stop, taking a deep breath as he steadies himself.
Kaveh is moving out. That is a fact, Alhaitham reminds himself.
He doesn’t like the sound of that sentence.
However, there’s no time to deconstruct his mind and figure out why right now, because suddenly the front door opens again.
Kaveh steps back inside, a small golden key with teal accents and decorated with a lion keychain in hand. He comes to a stop abruptly when he sees Alhaitham standing in front of the small bowl.
For a moment, neither of them speaks. The silence settles heavy between them like dust on bookshelves that were abandoned long ago.
Alhaitham’s eyes fixate on the key which is catching light between Kavehs fingers.
He forces himself to speak. “I see you’ve decided against theft.”
“Wha- theft?! Wait you mean this?” Kaveh holds out the key, anger and disbelief tainting his expression. “I still had it in my pocket and didn’t realise until now,” Kaveh explains, eyeing Alhaitham with what looks like disdain.
“Good thing you did, otherwise I would have had to report you to one of the Matra.” Alhaitham holds out his hand, hoping his feigned indifference is believable.
What is he even saying? Even when it was his goal to aggravate Kaveh he would have never said something like this, so why has he been completely unable to hold a single normal conversation with Kaveh ever since his victory?
Once the quiet returns he can sort out the mess that is his mind, he tells himself again.
“Ugh, You-“ Kaveh presses the key into Alhaitham’s palm with more force than necessary. “You must be so glad I’m moving out,” Kaveh continues, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Now you can finally have your precious peaceful life back, without any disturbances from someone like me. At least from now on I won’t be a burden for you anymore...” Kaveh whispers that last part so quietly, Alhaitham almost doesn’t catch it.
But before Alhaitham can even finish processing everything Kaveh said, Kaveh spins around on his heels and storms out the door, closing it behind him with a loud thump.
The sound echoes through the now silent halls, somehow too loud in Alhaithams ears. He stands frozen in the foyer, his hand tingling slightly from the impact of Kavehs key.
Kaveh’s key…
But it’s not. Not anymore.
Alhaitham turns it over in his hand again and again, as if to seek some kind of explanation in the one object that was undoubtedly Kaveh’s, but he only sees his own warped reflection created by the keys smooth metal surface.
Maybe that’s an answer in and of itself.
The soft, warm light of dusk, streaming through the front doors stained glass windows fades slowly, plunging the house in cold darkness.
———————
Vague sounds and lights flicker across his subconscious, steadily pulling him towards wakefulness. Alhaitham tries to drown out the noise from outside and go back to deep sleep, but after a few minutes of futile tossing and turning he gives up and resigns himself to cognitive awareness.
Groggily, like almost every morning, he makes his way down the hall and towards the kitchen.
For some reason Alhaithams thoughts feel even more muted than usual, like someone encased his mind in a pile of cloth, tied up too tight for him to break free of it.
Hopefully a cup of coffee will fix him again.
He gets the coffee maker from its designated spot on the shelf, and sets enough water and ground up coffee beans for two mugs to a boil.
It’s still quite early so Kaveh will probably be asleep for another hour or so, Alhaitham thinks to himself. So, instead of pouring both mugs at once he leaves Kavehs half in the kettle and places it back on the now turned off stove.
He’ll get it later.
Alhaitham takes his cup of coffee and makes his way over to the divans, setting it on the small table, pointedly forgoing the usage of a coaster laying in its middle.
Heh, thank the archons Kaveh isn’t up yet or Alhaitham would have just earned himself a thorough scolding about the hard-to-remove stains, coffee leaves on precious wooden surfaces, Alhaithams mind supplies.
He would use them, but the rough ceramic surface of this specific version scrapes along the underside of most of their mugs in a way that makes Alhaithams skin crawl.
With a small sigh, Alhaitham settles on the soft cushions, gaze falling to the book he left on the couch the previous evening. Thankfully he had set it down with the right page marked, so Alhaitham picks it up, continuing to read where he left off the day before.
Now that he thinks about it, why did he even abandon it to begin with? Usually he’d read a tome this size in a single sitting. The only reason he wouldn’t, would be either a lack of interest in the topic, which isn’t the case, or badly researched and written material, which, given the progress he’s made up until now, must be far from the truth as well.
That means the cause could only have been a certain roommate of his. Kaveh must have distracted him enough to make him put it down yesterday.
Satisfied with that conclusion Alhaitham immerses himself in the book’s contents once again, absentmindedly sipping his coffee in the meantime.
After another twenty minutes of reading, Alhaitham puts the tome down, walking over to the kitchen. Kaveh should be getting up any minute now so, preparing his cup of coffee sooner rather than later is probably a good idea. Back by the stove, Alhaitham checks the kettle’s temperature, concluding that it’s still plenty hot, so he walks over to the cupboard, intending to grab Kavehs favourite mug, only to realise that it’s not there.
Huh, odd.
He turns around to check the sink. After all maybe he forgot to wash it the day before. But once again the mug is nowhere to be seen. Now that he thinks about it, quite a few of the kitchen utensils are missing today.
Did Kaveh have one of his three-in-the-morning energy bursts and reorganised their entire kitchen?
No... that’s not right. Everything besides a few of Kavehs things are in the same place they were yesterday.
Kavehs things…
Suddenly, a memory forces itself to the forefront of Alhaithams brain, almost causing him to drop the kettle he’s still holding, and he freezes.
Kaveh, a golden key in his hand, standing in the foyer. His expression showing something Alhaitham can’t quite name, but something he feels too, in this very moment.
Loss.
He remembers now. Kaveh moved out yesterday.
Alhaithams eyes land on the kettle in his hand. The coffee inside it is starting to cool down, now that he’s taken it off the stove.
What is he supposed to do with it?
Tossing it would be a waste of good coffee beans and moreover it just doesn’t sit right with Alhaitham.
Gods, what is up with him lately? Since when has he allowed his emotions to take control over his actions like this?
Alhaitham takes a deep breath, then walks over to the living space to grab his own mug. He pours the coffee into it, and forces himself to take a sip, trying to ignore his stomach turning.
He attempts to chug it down as fast as possible, but the sudden and unpleasant bitterness the drink holds stops him from finishing it. However, the few gulps he has taken leave a foul aftertaste on his tongue.
He regards the dark liquid in his cup with scrunched up brows, uneasiness prickling under his skin.
This is wrong. Everything about this is wrong.
His breathing speeds up, and he feels tears welling up in his eyes. Before they can roll past his eyelashes however, Alhaitham blinks them away, practically running to the kitchen sink to pour out the rest of the coffee. He needs to get away from this feeling. From these mental walls closing in on him, keeping him trapped in a prison of unsolvable disputes.
Curse his goddamn mind. His brilliant brain that can’t help but search for answers, however difficult it might seem. But this particular problem doesn’t have a solution, much less one he can find for he hasn’t even properly identified the issue yet.
With his hands now free, he presses his nails into his palms, willing his body to calm down. The slight sting slows his racing thoughts and subdues the oncoming panic in his bones enough for him to breathe.
Kaveh is gone, he reminds himself (which doesn’t exactly help). He is not coming back, because he’s in a better financial position now. He doesn’t need Alhaitham anymore.
This is a good thing.
This is a good thing.
At least for Kaveh.
For himself not so much, Alhaitham realises. Because somewhere, somehow, and despite how contradictory it sounds, the peaceful and happy life he’s been striving towards started including Kaveh too.