Work Text:
The night was unusually quiet.
Not peaceful — no, peace was a strange concept in Ionia, especially for people like them — but quiet. The kind of quiet that seemed to exist only because the world itself had decided to hold its breath for a moment, and then wait.
Kayn sat on the edge of a ruined stone wall, one leg hanging over the side, while Rhaast remained silent for once.
Akali stood a few steps away, arms crossed, looking up at the sky.
"You said there would be shooting stars," Kayn said.
"I said there might be."
"That's not the same thing."
"No."
And then there was silence again.
Kayn sighed dramatically, because of course he did.
"You dragged me all the way out here for a possibility."
Akali glanced at him.
"You followed me."
"Because you were going somewhere suspicious."
"I'm looking at the sky."
"Suspicious."
She rolled her eyes, and then — despite herself — smiled.
The sky above them was clear, almost impossibly clear. The stars seemed brighter than they had any right to be, scattered across the darkness like tiny fragments of something ancient and unreachable.
Akali sat down beside him.
Not too close.
But not far away either.
And somehow, that was enough.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Then a thin line of silver suddenly crossed the sky.
Akali's eyes widened.
"Kayn."
"I saw it."
Another streak followed.
Then another.
And then the sky seemed to break open.
Shooting stars crossed the darkness one after another — brief, beautiful flashes of light that disappeared almost as quickly as they had appeared.
Akali stared upward, completely still.
Kayn looked at her instead.
And then, for once, he didn't make a joke.
"You should make a wish."
She glanced at him.
"You believe in that?"
"No."
"Then why?"
Kayn shrugged.
"Because maybe the stars don't care what I believe."
Akali looked back at the sky.
A shooting star passed above them.
She closed her eyes.
Kayn noticed.
He didn't ask what she wished for.
Some things were better left untouched.
So he closed his eyes too.
And then he wished.
Not for power.
Not for revenge.
Not for victory.
Not even for Rhaast to finally shut up.
He wished for something far more dangerous.
He wished that there would be more nights like this.
More moments where neither of them had to fight.
More moments where Akali could sit beside him without reaching for a weapon.
More moments where he could look at her and forget, just for a little while, about every expectation that had ever been placed upon him.
And then, perhaps most dangerously of all, he wished that she would stay.
When he opened his eyes, Akali was already looking at him.
"You made a wish," she said.
"So did you."
"I didn't tell you what mine was."
"Neither did I."
She smiled faintly.
Another star fell.
Akali leaned her head against his shoulder.
Kayn froze.
Completely.
As if every battle he had ever fought had suddenly become easier than knowing what to do with this one small gesture.
And then, slowly, carefully, he relaxed.
He tilted his head until it rested lightly against hers.
Neither of them spoke.
Above them, the stars continued to fall — one after another, and then another, and then another — disappearing into the darkness before either of them could hold onto them.
Maybe wishes were meaningless.
Maybe the stars were only burning pieces of rock.
Maybe there was no magic in the universe that listened when people whispered their hopes into the night.
But Kayn didn't care.
Not tonight.
Because Akali was beside him.
And for once, that was enough.
Then Akali whispered, almost too quietly to hear.
"I think I know what you wished for."
Kayn smiled.
"Do you?"
"No."
"Good."
She laughed softly.
And then they stayed there until the last shooting star disappeared — until the sky became still again, and the night returned to being only a night.
But neither of them moved.
Because sometimes, a wish didn't have to come true immediately.
Sometimes, it was enough to sit beside the person you secretly wished for — and wonder if, somewhere beneath all the darkness, they had wished for you too.