Work Text:
"Traveler, are you alright? You've been rather quiet..."
Always Traveler, never themself.
Always a savior, never a friend.
Always otherworldly, never one with us.
Always an outsider, for they would never belong.
"But you didn't see me that way, did you?"
No matter where they'd go, his face would remain. His face was everywhere, simple and repetitive. He was everywhere, sticking in his mind like the gum that Teyvat did not yet have. His voice rang out constantly.
But at the same time, it never did.
He was no longer alive. He had reached the end of his lifeline, though he was a mere twenty winters of age.
He was beloved.
So why couldn't they remember Teppei's voice?
They recall his passion, his desire to keep up with them despite the skill gap.
They recall his smile, the way he'd light up and joke around.
They recall even the way he promised to get uniforms together.
The uniforms never came.
But they can't remember.
It's only been a few months, they tell themselves.
It's only been a few months since they've seen each other.
It's only been a few months since he passed away from the years he did not gain.
It's only been a few months, and they can't remember his voice.
Their feet swung off the wooden flooring as they rested where Teppei fell to sleep.
Ruu's feather was held tight in their hand, but they had nothing left of Teppei. Nothing left of him, nothing to remember, no family to talk to, and nobody else to remember Teppei.
The Fatui harmed the countries over and over. They stole the hearts of gods, the hope of the people, the lives from passersby-
And the life of the Traveler's dear friend.
They knew that the Fatui shouldn't be generalized, that they couldn't deem all of them "Evil" or "Corrupted" when they were just following orders, but the Traveler was tired of his friends being snatched away by delusions.
The Traveler wanted to go home