Chapter 1: The Wanderer
Chapter Text
The spear weighed nothing in Xiao’s hands.
Yet, his muscles burned when he thrust forward, slicing through a hilichurl’s arm like melting butter. Thunder clashed, making the karmic debt stir into a red-hot sting on his tongue. He bit down and thrust forward with his spear again and two hilichurls crumbled to dust at his feet.
Despite the rain, Xiao was sweating and reached up to wipe his forehead as he leveled his breathing again.
He turned. And there, frozen on the path leading to Wangshu Inn, stood a human in unfamiliar clothing.
The sun was going down and they were in the middle of a thunderstorm, and yet, somehow, a human had found themselves just a few feet away from potentially being ripped apart by a camp of monsters.
Xiao strutted over to the stranger and flicked his hand into the air, his spear de-materializing.
“What are you doing out here?” Xiao asked. “Do you have a death wish?”
It was doubtful whether Xiao’s words actually touched the stranger. They barely moved, as if they were standing in a sunny field of flowers and not a slowly darkening path studded with hilichurl blood and slime condensate.
Cleanly cut hair stopped just below their ears. Frayed strands of indigo- and purple-colored hair hung just barely out of their eyes, and though it was dark, Xiao noticed the glimmer of lavender in their irises.
“I was just wandering by when I noticed you fighting in the distance and decided to get a closer look.”
Xiao’s face contorted with confusion again. What human in their right mind would want to get closer to combat? Did they not see that Xiao was clearly busy working?
“Are all humans so thick-headed?” Xiao asked. “You should know better than to get in the way of an adepti when he’s working.”
The stranger frowned. “Sorry.”
“Forget it. Next time you see a battle break out, turn and walk in the other direction. If that’s all, I’ll be going now.”
He turned his back on the wanderer, preparing to teleport away, when he felt a hand tugging at his sleeve. He yanked it away and glared at them.
“What do you want?”
“Where are you going?”
“Wangshu Inn. You’d be smart to shelter there, too.”
“Could you point me in the right direction?”
Xiao opened his mouth to speak. Then, he thought better of that plan, shook his head, and summoned his spear again.
“It’ll be easier to show you. Stay close; I won’t be held accountable if you stray away and end up injured.”
The Wanderer followed the spear-wielding man down a narrow trail, keeping a respectful distance between them.
The man exuded an energy the wanderer had never encountered before. He’d only said a few words, none of them all that kind either, yet each of them resonated with him. It was like someone had brought a hand up to his chest and knocked on its pale outer shell, shaking something loose inside.
Was this feeling recognition? Nostalgia? Comfort?
Whatever the new sensation was, it rattled in the wanderer’s ears the whole walk to the inn.
When they arrived, they walked inside and the spear-wielding man gestured to the front desk. It smelled of burnt sweetflower incense and glowed yellow from lanterns strung across the ceiling.
“There. Now, if that will be all…”
“Thank you for guiding me through the storm. I’d like to return the favor. Maybe I can cook you something to eat?” the wanderer asked.
The man’s eyebrows furrowed, then he glared and shook his head. “No. I don’t need such handouts. I was just doing my duty.”
“Still. It would feel good to have a fresh meal after a walk in a thunderstorm, no?” The wanderer asked, mimicking what he thought a human might say.
“The weather is of no concern to me. And I’m not hungry.”
“Okay. If it’s not too much trouble, could I have a name?”
“My name is Xiao. Was that all, or are you going to ask me questions all night?”
The wanderer shook his head. Before he could say more, Xiao disappeared and the wanderer stroked his chin.
“Looks like you just met Xiao.”
The wanderer turned to the woman at the registry desk. He approached, tilting his head at her.
“Hello,” he said. “So you know him.”
“Yes, I do. You’re curious about him, I see. But that’s quite the fool’s errand, as he doesn’t get close to just anybody.”
“It sounds like he’s quite the mysterious person.”
“There’s not much to him, really. He fights demons in Liyue, and in return, we provide him free housing in Wangshu Inn.”
“Is he human?”
The woman’s face twisted at that. “No. He’s an adepti,” she said. “The Xiángmó Dàshèng, the great sage who subdues demons. Those who recognize the name revere it greatly.”
“Should I revere it?”
The woman laughed at that, lightening the weight of the rain outside. “Yes. Especially if you want to get on his good side. Be aware, though, that he might not even notice. He doesn’t like to trifle with us humans very much.”
Clearing her throat, the woman looked back toward her register of guests.
“Well, you came at a fortunate time. There’s one room available, and it has your name on it if you want it.”
The wanderer reached inside his jinbei and pulled out five mora. The woman’s expression tightened, but she nonetheless held out her hand and the wanderer dropped the mora into it.
“I’m willing to help out around the inn too, if the mora isn’t enough,” the wanderer said. “I know it isn’t much.”
“If you’re planning on an extended stay, then yes, we’ll need to sort out a larger agreement. But for now, this is enough. Follow me — I’ll show you to your room.”
Humans had told the wanderer time and time again that sunlight was the best, thunderstorms were the worst, snowy days were beautiful, and so on and so forth.
As much as the wanderer tried to understand those feelings, he’d only ever seen weather as another thing that happened during the course of his life, just like the setting of the sun and rise of the moon.
Maybe it was because he was unable to suffer the same discomforts humans did when their clothing got wet and they began to shiver from the cold. He couldn’t fall ill from being subjected to subzero temperatures, and fire could never burn away his flesh. The wanderer’s artificial body didn’t allow him to feel such things, just as it never tired enough to require sleep.
However, he still liked sleeping. He hoped that emulating humans and their habits would help him fit in better, and because of this, he’d fooled many humans into thinking he was their kin upon first meeting him.
Even Adeptus Xiao thought he was human.
Forging a companionship with another non-human person excited the puppet.
Were all non-humans like Xiao? He had been so curt, but not necessarily mean. “Distant” was a more fitting word. Wanderer also felt that distance in his sore, aching chest, which left him wondering how to fill it.
That night, he lay awake in bed and palmed at the place where a heart would would be beneath the casing of his chest.
All of this aimless wandering… would it ever end? Would he ever find answers to the questions he’d never even spoken aloud? Some part of him had long ago given up on that task, thinking it futile. In the grand scheme of a seemingly immortal life, things like acquiring a heart seemed like a plot that belonged in someone else’s fairytale of a life.
But still… maybe Xiao could be an answer to the Wanderer’s questions.
In the days that followed the stormy night, Xiao went about his duties as normal. He fought demons, patrolled Liyue, and spent evenings secluded on his balcony overlooking the countryside. The karmic debt came in sharp, overwhelming pulses and never disappeared entirely, becoming undiscriminating pains across his body. He’d long ago used up the last of the medicine Rex Lapis had made for him and spent many of his nights simply trying to meditate enough to alleviate some of the pain.
Xiao was walking downstairs one afternoon, the wood creaking beneath his feet, when he saw a familiar face at the bottom of the stairs.
The stranger was in the same blue and white Inazuman wear as before, although the hat was missing. He carried a broom and a smile.
“Good afternoon, Conqueror of Demons.” He sounded amused when he said it.
Xiao’s eyes briefly widened, then he steeled himself and scoffed. “I see that your presence is persistent. What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.”
Xiao stared at them for a second but they only smiled more softly.
“Do you think you could spare the time to sit down and eat lunch with me?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Hanging around an adeptus is dangerous.”
“I don’t sense any danger. On the contrary, you’ve done nothing but protect people as far as I can tell.”
Xiao bristled at this. Not because they were wrong, but because he had no idea how to turn them down.
“I’m planning on making almond tofu, if you’d like any.”
Xiao’s stomach grumbled its approval and Xiao whipped his head away in an attempt to hide his blush.
“Fine, I can spare an hour. But only if you agree to leave me alone afterward.”
“If those are your terms, then I agree.”
The stranger hadn’t stopped smiling since Xiao sat down across from them with a fresh plate of chilled almond tofu. He wasn’t really sure what there was to smile about. What would bring someone to be so happy to see a stranger?
“Boss Verr Goldet told me that you don’t spend a lot of time with humans. Is there a reason for that?” they asked.
“They interfere with my work if they get too close,” Xiao said. “It makes life easier for both of us if they keep their distance.”
“When you are in their company, do you enjoy it?”
Xiao paused as he lifted a piece of tofu up to his mouth, chopsticks held gingerly between his fingers. He eyed the stranger warily.
“Why do you want to know?”
“I’m just curious.”
Xiao set his food back down and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What’s your name?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Huh?”
“A name is something someone else assigns you, and I don’t have such a person.”
“Where are you from?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did something happen to your memories?”
“No, not that I know of,” the stranger said as he shrugged his shoulders. “It’s always been this way for me. I’ve wandered Teyvat for as long as I can remember.”
Suddenly, Xiao’s appetite had disappeared.
“I know you’re hungry. You should eat,” the wanderer said.
There was no point prying into another human’s business. Interesting as the stranger was, they would eventually leave Xiao alone again, just as every human had in the past and, predictably, the future. He brought the first piece of almond tofu up to his mouth and bit into it, savoring the briefest flash of comfort it was able to provide.
The stranger leaned forward in their chair, tucking their hands underneath their chin. The way they smiled at him made him uneasy, but he couldn’t bring himself to break from the eye contact.
There was something those violet-colored eyes were trying to tell him, but he couldn’t decipher what.
He hadn’t realized the wanderer was without their own plate until Xiao had finished most of his tofu and looked down at the table again.
“You didn’t make enough for yourself,” Xiao said.
“That’s okay. It was only important to me that you have enough.”
“Hm…”
Being cared for in such a meticulous manner made him antsy. He shifted in his seat, pushed his almost-finished plate of food away, and frowned.
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing,” the wanderer said. “I already told you that.”
“You must want something from me. No act of compassion is without a reason.”
“I can’t be nice to you just because I feel like it?”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Boss Verr Goldet told me that you watch over the inn and protect the people of Liyue. If that’s not reason enough, then I don’t know what is,” the wanderer said.
“That’s my duty,” Xiao said. “It’s nothing special.”
“I think it’s special. Even though they might not even know you were the one who did those things, humans appreciate everything you’ve done for them. Maybe some of them even love you, whether they know ‘you’ or not. I wish I had a purpose like that.”
“Trust me, you don’t want what I have,” Xiao said. “The life of an adepti is anything but a peaceful one. The things I have seen and done will haunt me for the rest of my life.”
“It must all be worth it if you’re sitting across from me now,” the wanderer said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be here at all, would you?”
“You’re prying into matters that are none of your business,” Xiao snapped. He narrowed his eyes and the pupils became reminiscent of those of an irritated cat. “Stop poking your nose into things you’re incapable of understanding.”
“Of course. I’m sorry,” the wanderer said.
Xiao pushed his chair back, rose to his feet, and looked down his nose at the wanderer.
The wanderer collected his hands in his lap and looked up at Xiao with wide, innocent eyes. They looked so free of impurity, nothing like Xiao, with the weight of karmic debt ever resting on his heavy shoulders. He regretted snapping at the stranger immediately; this never would have happened if he had never entertained their company in the first place. The frown on the stranger’s lips was his fault and his alone, and he couldn’t bring himself to cause more pain to them again, which was inevitable if they spent any further time together.
Xiao teleported away with a quick mental snap, then he was back in his room, accompanied by nothing but his thoughts and the sound of the waterwheel churning outside his window.
The wanderer had decided to stay at Wangshu Inn because he thought that Xiao could provide him answers to his questions, but every sentence out of Xiao’s mouth only led to more confusion.
What had happened to Xiao to make him have such complicated feelings about humans? He clearly cared for them if he was willing to fight to protect them.
Yet, he didn’t let them get close to him.
What could the wanderer do or say to prove that he meant no harm and only wanted Xiao’s companionship? Was even that too much to ask? Did Xiao only see him as annoying?
In the grand scheme of things, the wanderer wasn’t worried about time. He had a surplus of it to spend however he wanted and two hands ready to work. Conveniently enough, a position opened up for a new member of the inn’s housekeeping staff and Boss Verr Goldet offered it to the wanderer after he mentioned that he’d be staying into the foreseeable future.
At least this way, he’d be able to pay for his stay.
He didn’t really care about the work. It was tedious and uneventful, but if it meant more opportunities to get close to Adeptus Xiao, then he’d even scrub toilets if he had to.
The first day of snowfall, it brought with it frostbite that immobilized Xiao’s fingers and made his spine so rigid it hurt to stand upright.
He was out late that day, occupied with clearing out several hilichurl camps that had sprouted up near the inn.
When he returned, teleporting to the balcony as was his habit, he flinched at the delicately placed plate of almond tofu that awaited him on the wooden guard rail.
Almond tofu was a summer treat; the apricot kernels required to make it could only be harvested in warm climates, and despite Verr Goldet’s efforts, it was rare for her to get her hands on any in the winter. Not just any random human would have the means and knowledge to make the tofu for him, but clearly this gifter had gotten their hands on some, which he was grateful for.
The almond tofu was just what he needed after such a long day of pain and solitude.
Xiao was satisfied just to lean over the balcony, the wood biting into his midsection, as he plucked piece after piece of tofu from the plate and brought it to his mouth.
He was exhausted. His fingers hurt as they bent around the wooden chopsticks. But he could stay up just a little longer to enjoy this brief moment of serenity, the snow falling from the sky and blanketing the world in silence.
When Xiao finished with his plate, he pulled away from the balcony and entered Wangshu Inn to drop the plate off in the kitchen.
He passed a room along the way, trilling laughter piercing his ears. Emotions such as joy and sorrow weren’t for him — best to leave humans to their matters.
But something lured him into that doorway anyway. Perhaps it was curiosity, or loneliness, or the faint nagging at the back of his mind that he knew he had to see whatever was at the other end of that room.
The wanderer was helping another human make a bed. It was such a mundane activity, yet something about it interested Xiao. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the billowing blue-and-white sleeves that trailed behind Wanderer after every gesture. Xiao had never noticed the lighter streaks of lavender in the wanderer’s hair before, muted underneath the dull glimmer of candlelight in the night.
And his laugh. Oh no, his laugh.
So sweet, cut with a layer of mischief that tempted a smile from even Xiao’s lips, though he kept them drawn in a thin line.
The wanderer’s eyes flickered over to Xiao and he exchanged his laughter for a smile.
“Good evening, Xiao.”
“Hi.”
“I see you found the almond tofu I left out for you,” he said.
Of course the wanderer left it out for him. He was still pursuing Xiao for reasons he was afraid would always remain incomprehensible.
“Thank you,” Xiao said.
The wanderer stepped across the carpet and reached out to take the plate from Xiao’s hands. Xiao swore their skin touched and that it was an intentional gesture judging from the flicker in the wanderer’s eyes. That struck fear into Xiao, concerned that the human would grimace in pain any second from the close contact with his debt.
Instead, the wanderer just smiled. “I can deal with this for you.”
Xiao shook his head. “I can take care of myself,” he said, even as he let the wanderer take the plate away.
“I wanted to apologize for the last time we spoke,” the wanderer said. His shoulders sagged and he pulled the empty plate close to his chest. “I didn’t mean to anger you.”
“I am incapable of such emotion,” Xiao said. “Don’t waste your time trying to gain my favor. They’re all futile attempts anyway.”
The wanderer sighed and Xiao felt the question on their lips before they even spoke it aloud. “I know it’s presumptuous of me, but I was hoping to catch an opportunity to talk to you in private.”
“I am not interested in idle chatter.”
“It’s very important.”
The wanderer’s eyes clouded over with an intensity Xiao had never seen before, sending a twinge of curiosity through him.
“Fine, if you insist. Call my name when you are ready, and I will be there.”
Wanderer wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to face Xiao again.
The no-nonsense behavior told him that this was his final chance to establish a connection between them. If the wanderer failed tonight, there would be no third chance. He’d already crossed Xiao last time and Xiao didn’t seem the sort of person who thought twice about burning bridges he wasn’t interested in crossing.
The wanderer quickly wrapped up the rest of his duties for the night and returned to his room. He had barely sat down before calling out Xiao’s name, unable to restrain himself.
Xiao materialized near the closed bedroom door and crossed his arms.
He looked exhausted. If the bags under his eyes weren’t indicative enough, the rigidness of his posture was.
“Why don’t you come sit down,” Wanderer said with a gesture toward the desk he barely ever touched.
Xiao considered this offer for a second before relenting and sitting down with a quick flourish. He crossed his arms, fingers disappearing against the fabric covering his chest. Was he cold?
“Well, what is it?” Xiao asked.
Always so curt. Wanderer smiled.
“You probably already figured this out, but I’m not human.”
Xiao’s eyes widened and Wanderer felt a pang of emotion he couldn’t place. Perhaps it was disappointment or regret for ever mentioning it.
“I was hoping that, maybe, well…” Wanderer shook his head. “I don’t know. It was foolish of me to insist on staying here in the hopes of getting closer to you when clearly all of my efforts have been in vain.
“Today, I finally decided to tell you the truth. If you refuse to get close to a human, perhaps you could bring yourself to be friends with something else instead?”
“What are you hoping to achieve?” Xiao asked.
Wanderer stared into his golden eyes. He could have stared into those diamond-shaped pupils forever.
“I— I don’t know, actually.”
Something about admitting the truth scared him. He didn’t even know he was capable of such a feeling, but it surged like a quick slap to his cheek, looming with the promise of irrational fears just on the edge of his consciousness.
Xiao just stared at him. Wanderer had to say something.
He laughed, but it was a weak, empty noise. He’d mimicked enough human laughter to know it wasn’t supposed to sound like that.
“I think I wanted to get closer to you because of some baseless belief that you could help me understand humans better, but it seems they leave you just as perplexed as they do me.”
“So you’ve been acting this whole time,” Xiao said.
“If that’s the case, then I pity whatever acting troupe would be willing to pick me up,” Wanderer said. “No, I wouldn’t call it ‘acting,’ per se. Just… trying to fit into a world that wasn’t designed for me.”
“What were you designed for?” Xiao asked.
Wanderer shrugged and his arms flopped at his sides helplessly. “I don’t know.”
Xiao frowned at this, and the words were not lost on Wanderer, either.
He was starting to get nervous. They’d dipped into a discussion that he wasn’t sure he could carry. Xiao was giving him this feeling that he’d already revealed too much and that he’d made things uncomfortable.
“Well, now that you know my secret, perhaps you could tell me why you don’t let humans get too close?” Wanderer asked.
“I am plagued by karmic debt, which is dangerous to expose humans to for an extended period of time. Mortal souls are not as robust as those of adepti.”
“Karmic debt, you say?” Wanderer asked.
“Yes. I enacted many violent deeds in the past and accumulated incalculable karmic debt because of it. Don’t go feeling bad for me, though. Us yaksha take pride in our duties and sympathy will only taint that pride.”
“You were right to snap at me before. I was obviously looking at your life through rose-tinted glass,” Wanderer said.
“It’s okay,” Xiao said. “A very select few mortals understand my situation anyway. And I would like to keep it that way.”
“I’d like to spend more time with you, if you’d allow me. There’s still more that we could learn from each other.”
“Still grasping onto the unfounded belief that I can help you, I see.”
“I am a puppet,” Wanderer said. “I can’t fall ill. I don’t feel pain. Your karmic debt has never made it difficult for me to spend time with you in the past. Since you have nobody else, you could spend some time with me, if you wanted.”
Xiao shifted in his seat. Wanderer never thought himself very good at reading other people’s emotions, but he could see that there were calculations running in his head.
“I’ll make you as much almond tofu as you’d like,” Wanderer said. “Though my ears are artificial, they still work perfectly well. You can tell me your troubles and confide in me as much as you want.”
Xiao shook his head. “I’m accustomed to being alone.”
Wanderer’s shoulders dropped and he frowned.
“…But, if we happened to be in the same room and you had a tale to share, I… wouldn’t mind listening.”
As far as conversations with Xiao went, this was pretty much an invitation to spend time with him again.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Wanderer said.
“If that’s all…” Xiao stood from the chair and uncrossed his arms.
“Yes,” Wanderer said. “Thank you for giving me another chance to explain myself. I promise you won’t regret it.”
“I better not,” Xiao said, then left in another quick snap.
The next day, Wanderer was doing what he did best — walking around Wangshu Inn after the humans had fallen asleep. He’d usually give sleeping a shot, but empty dreams had been bothering him lately, so he thought he’d take a walk to clear his mind.
He found Xiao standing at his favorite balcony overlooking the countryside. It was completely dark out, only the moon leaving gray traces across the landscape, and Xiao was alone, bent over the balcony with his forearms hanging off the edge of the railing. When Wanderer approached from behind like this, he could see all of Xiao’s spiked hair and the frayed ends sweeping out, brushing against the calm night.
This wasn’t exactly “happening to be in the same room,” but it was close enough, wasn’t it?
“Good evening,” Wanderer said as he joined Xiao’s side.
Xiao turned to face him, some of the longer strands of his hair sliding from his shoulder and hanging down. “Hi.”
He didn’t look annoyed — if anything, he looked a little surprised that Wanderer had found him. But Wanderer knew from the tone of his voice that he was just having a normal night.
“I have a question for you.”
“What is it?”
“You don’t need to sleep, right? I don’t, either. What do you do with all that time while the humans are resting?”
Xiao smiled, amused but still tightly restrained, and said, “I fight demons. Sometimes, I meditate. I don’t expect either of those things to be of much interest to you, though.”
“I can’t help with the demon-slaying, but I’m curious about meditation. How do you do it? Can you show me?”
“I…” Xiao’s face began to turn cold again, so Wanderer pulled out a pair of large, pleading eyes. Xiao sighed and Wanderer grinned, triumphant, as Xiao said, “I suppose I could spare a few minutes.”
Back in Wanderer’s room, everything glowed a dim orange from the lantern beside his bed. Xiao sat down in the center of the room and crossed his legs. Wanderer sat down across from him, mimicking his posture, and studied Xiao’s face.
Wanderer had never been this close to Xiao before. For someone with such a hardened personality, Xiao had quite delicate features.
His small lips were pulled down, but not necessarily into a frown. His unruly, spiky hair, in all its various shades of green, was completely still, although Wanderer always felt like it was moving. (He’d had the thought, on more than one occasion, that he wanted to touch it just to see how Xiao would react.)
Wanderer admired the slight sharpness to Xiao’s eyelashes and the hint of red painted around his eyes. And the eyebrows, which looked like a notch had been cut into them.
The purple diamond on Xiao’s forehead looked like someone had left it there with a kiss.
Humans must have found him attractive, of this Wanderer was certain, because even the puppet found himself drawn into that beauty.
“Close your eyes,” Xiao said.
Wanderer obeyed.
“Purge your mind of all thoughts. Discard all distractions. Focus on your breathing and the weight of your body.
“Become conscious of your mind. If it begins to wander, return your focus to your breathing. Leave your thoughts where they are and come back.”
That may have been the most Xiao had ever said to him in one sitting. And although the instructions were pretty cut and dry, Wanderer wasn’t sure he’d be able to follow them properly. Xiao had apparently forgotten that Wanderer didn’t have any breath to focus on.
Xiao’s instruction ended and the room fell silent. Wanderer listened to Xiao’s slowed breaths, reminiscent of a sleeping human, and tried to match the cadence.
Still, that didn’t make him feel any more relaxed.
“Is that really all it takes?” Wanderer asked.
“Mmmhm.”
“I don’t really feel any different…”
“You have to be patient. It takes time.”
“I’m not sure this is going to work,” Wanderer said. “I mean, I don’t even need to breathe…”
“Are you going to keep talking all night or actually try to meditate?” Xiao asked. “It’s not really about breathing. It’s about having something to focus your attention on. Like the weight of your body on the floor.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Xiao returned to his slow exhalations and Wanderer decided to focus on them, too. If it was really about simply having something to focus on, he’d focus on Xiao.
Wanderer opened his eyes and stared at Xiao. He had never looked so relaxed before. Perhaps the meditation was working?
Wanderer’s hunch didn’t last long, though. Xiao grunted in pain and doubled over, clutching his gut.
Wanderer flinched and touched one of Xiao’s muscled biceps, which Xiao yanked away from his touch. Wanderer pulled his hands back into his lap, running one thumb over the other hand’s knuckles as he studied Xiao.
“Are you okay?” Wanderer asked.
Xiao hunched over enough that he’d almost rested his head on the floor, shielding Wanderer from his face. That didn’t stop Wanderer from searching for Xiao’s eyes, though.
“I’m fine,” Xiao said. He unfurled himself again though he wouldn’t meet Wanderer’s eyes. “The karma just makes it difficult to focus sometimes.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Yes,” Xiao said. “It flares up randomly sometimes.”
“What does it feel like?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I want to understand you better,” Wanderer said.
Xiao’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Still, he said, “At its weakest it feels like a thousand pinpricks across my skin. At its worst, it feels like someone grabbing my head between their hands and crushing it. Like someone plucking out my eyes. My skin feels like it’s on fire even as I drown in a sea of thousands of corrupted souls all chanting in my ears.”
“That sounds…” terrifying. “Painful.”
“It’s not called ‘chronic pain’ for no reason,” Xiao said. “But I’m used to it.”
“You’re used to that? How do you get used to something like that?”
“You adapt,” Xiao said. “You learn to forge forward even when circumstances feel their bleakest.”
When you were staring down a life full of pain with no end in sight, how would you even begin to make that decision?
“It sounds easier to just give up,” Wanderer said.
“Giving up would mean death, and I refuse to allow myself to be taken by this pain. Perseverance can be difficult, but it is necessary.”
It was such a brave and noble thing to say, reminding Wanderer once again of how much Xiao so clearly cared for humans and how much life was still worth living despite the pain.
Chapter 2: Qingxin Petals Flutter amid the Petrichor
Summary:
Xiao and Wanderer grow closer.
Chapter Text
The more Xiao learned about Wanderer, the more his existence confused the hell out of him.
Why, out of all the places Wanderer could choose to spend the rest of his eternal life, did he choose Wangshu Inn? Was Xiao’s company really so coveted that he’d be willing to put up with the tedium of daily chores only to catch a flash of Xiao’s face over lunch or at the end of the day?
The way Wanderer’s eyes lit up whenever he saw Xiao in the halls set off a flutter of some unknown thing inside his chest.
Wanderer started spending all of his free time in Xiao’s company. Not all that time was spent talking either, much to Xiao’s relief. A lot of it was silent.
Before Wanderer, Xiao had only known silent company with other humans as extremely discomforting. But with Wanderer, it was as comfortable as breathing, mostly because he didn’t have to worry about tainting Wanderer with his karma.
Wanderer would sit across from him during meals with his cheeks nestled between his hands. Idle chatter had never been one of Xiao’s strong suits but Wanderer made it look so easy.
For someone who wasn’t human, he had certainly begun to develop the conversational skills of one.
One evening, Xiao was in Wanderer’s room tending to his spear while Wanderer sat across from him with a half-finished doll in his hands. Xiao might have been slower with his spear-sharpening than usual tonight, but Wanderer didn’t seem to notice the extended company.
“I had another dream last night,” Wanderer said.
“Hm,” Xiao hummed.
“I woke up crying again. I wonder why?”
“Do you remember what the dream was about?”
Wanderer shook his head. “No. Why am I capable of sleeping if I can never recall the dreams that come with it?”
Xiao considered this question, but it was rhetorical, and he couldn’t give a satisfying answer.
“Do you ever have dreams?” Wanderer asked.
“In the rare moments that I rest, I only get nightmares,” Xiao said.
Wanderer shook his head. “Humans make dreaming out to be such a wonderful experience, but if all it does is bring upon misery, then I’d rather forgo this ‘sleep’ business altogether.”
“I agree,” Xiao said. “Maybe beings like us were never designed for such pleasures.”
“Maybe,” Wanderer said. He rocked backward and smiled. “On a lighter note, I’ve been meaning to ask if you could help me with something.”
“I can try,” Xiao said. “What is it?”
“Could you help me pick out a name?”
“That’s too important. Leave it to someone else.”
“It has to be you or nobody,” Wanderer said. “Please, entertain this one request for me.”
Xiao grumbled his disapproval, but Wanderer’s pleading eyes would not take “no” for an answer.
“Mochou,” Xiao said.
“Oh? All that reluctance over choosing a name for me, only for you to snatch one up out of thin air.”
“Take it or leave it,” Xiao said, feeling his cheeks flare with heat.
“Any name given by you is perfect,” Wanderer said. “Then it’s decided. From this point onward, my name is Mochou.”
It was raining out today.
It’s not like Xiao minded though. Regardless of what the weather had to offer, he still had a job to do.
As expected, Mochou had something to say about this.
“It’s so gloomy out today! You should stay inside and take the day off,” he said over breakfast.
He must have known that these words alone wouldn’t be enough to sway Xiao because Mochou was already preparing the puppy-dog eyes that he knew Xiao wouldn’t be able to say no to.
“Demons do not take vacations,” Xiao said, a fruitless attempt to deter his begging.
“Could I patrol with you around Wangshu Inn, at least?”
“It’s too dangerous. You could get injured.”
“Can I?” Mochou retorted. “We never go outside together. We’re always working, and if it’s not that, you’re worried about the foot traffic and humans getting in the way. But it’s my day off and humans don’t like being out in the rain. And you already cleared out the hilichurl camps that were nearby yesterday.”
It was a relief that Mochou had come prepared with evidence to support his case. Although Xiao could never be completely assuaged of his worries about something happening, at least no humans would be put in danger with this plan.
“Alright, fine. I’ll take you with me,” Xiao said and Mochou’s face lit up in that way that always made Xiao’s pain flicker out briefly, like expunging the darkness from inside a cave with light.
Xiao told Mochou he was fine with him tagging along so long as he stayed close. He took these words to heart and in fact walked so close to Xiao that Mochou’s hat kept half the rain off Xiao’s shoulder, with Mochou just tall enough to avoid ramming its brim into Xiao’s forehead as they walked.
So far as Xiao was concerned, this was just another day of work, only with the added challenge of making sure Mochou didn’t encounter any danger.
“Look, Xiao! It’s you!”
They had walked up the path through the Guili Plains, passing a few of the usual Liyuan rock formations when Mochou paused. He pointed upward, toward a sloped, rocky cliff, and Xiao’s perplexed eyes fell on a bunch of qingxin flowers.
“Qingxin?” Xiao asked.
“They look just like you — white, green, and pretty. I’ve never seen one up-close before, though. I wonder if I can cook with them?”
In a snap, Xiao teleported to the top of the cliff. He glanced down at Mochou’s shocked expression as he knelt to pluck the flowers then returned to Mochou’s side. Before Xiao even knew what had come over him, he’d extended the flowers to Mochou and glanced off in the other direction, concealing his embarrassment.
“Thank you! They’re even more beautiful up-close!” Mochou said. He plucked off a petal and put it into his mouth. “Mmm! It’s so bitter!”
Xiao thought it strange that a little flower could delight Mochou so, but as long as he was happy, Xiao was happy.
Xiao led Mochou through shallow banks of reeds and lampgrass. Everything smelled of fresh vegetation, which must have made Mochou happy, because he started humming. Xiao didn’t recognize the tune, although the notes were quick and light like someone skipping through a field of flowers.
They ended up farther away from Wangshu Inn than Xiao had planned. Once they finally rejoined a walking path, there was a pair of people ahead of them.
Xiao wanted to keep his distance and slowed his pace accordingly. Maybe they should just take a longer route.
But Mochou looked interested in the pair.
“Maybe we should help them to the inn,” he said.
“That’s a good idea, but…” Xiao started.
“I understand— you don’t want to get too close. The one human looks old, probably an elderly grandmother with her granddaughter,” Mochou said. “I’ll go on ahead and offer to walk them over.”
“I’ll clear the path ahead,” Xiao said, full well knowing there probably wasn’t anything there. But one could never be too careful.
The humans, too, were up for analysis. Mochou nodded his agreement to this plan and walked over to greet them with Xiao keeping an eye on the interaction.
It would not be the first time a pair of people tried to pass themselves up as innocent travelers only to reveal they’d taken another person’s help in order to steal or cause harm to others. The inn was a popular hub for merchants, after all, so what better way to get close than to have a guide lead you right to them?
Xiao darted ahead once he’d been following Mochou and the two women for two minutes. His footsteps splashed in the water, the spear in his hand heavy but familiar, as his eyes scanned the scenery ahead for dangers.
Finding none, Xiao returned to following the women again.
Mochou sounded like he was having a fun time. He let the older woman hold onto his left arm and he leaned in close to hear what she was saying.
“Your friend is very handsome,” the old woman said.
“He is,” Mochou answered.
“Why doesn’t he walk with us?”
“He’s shy around strangers.”
It was a good lie, although it held a small kernel of truth in it. Humans were quite awkward to be around. Mochou was smart to phrase Xiao’s discomfort as shyness; it gave him more slack versus the effort it would take to explain the truth.
“Thank you so much for your help, young man,” the older of the women said once they had made it to the inn.
Xiao slipped away to one of the balconies above, content to wait until they were gone before coming back down to speak with Mochou.
“It was my pleasure,” Mochou said.
“What is your name so I know how to properly thank you for this kind gesture?”
“My name is Mochou,” he said.
The prideful tone with which he said it was not lost on Xiao. When Zhongli gave Xiao his new name, it had just been at the end of a long and arduous enslavement at the hands of an evil god. Xiao had not felt particularly prideful or even happy about the new name — it was just something for him to go by. Yet, it could not be understated how much he’d appreciated everything Zhongli had done for him and the name had been part of that.
Xiao was still shocked at how much the gifted name meant to Mochou. He remembered Verr Goldet’s reaction when Mochou had announced the name change to her for the first time, looking so smug while Xiao could only cross his arms and hope that the embarrassment wasn’t too obvious. Verr Goldet had called it “cute” and given Xiao a knowing look that made his skin crawl.
“And my companion’s name is Adeptus Xiao,” Mochou added.
“Please tell Adeptus Xiao that we’re very grateful,” the woman said.
“I will.”
As soon as it was clear, Xiao came back down and joined Mochou at the entrance to the inn. Mochou took a seat at a table in the rain and Xiao stood next to him.
“The ladies wanted to say thank you for the help,” Mochou said.
“I heard.”
“They were both so nice! I’m glad we were able to grant them safe passage to the inn. Who knows what could have happened if they’d gone off on their own.”
“Humans are always finding themselves in precarious situations,” Xiao said.
“At least this time it wasn’t like that,” Mochou said, a wry smile tugging at the edge of his lips. “Hey, I’ve been wondering. Have you ever played Go before?”
“Yes, Zhongli taught it to me once.”
“Would you like to play with me? A guest left behind a board and pieces in their room when they left yesterday.”
“Why would I be interested in wasting my time with something like that?”
“Because it’s fun,” Mochou said. “And it’s a great way of passing the time.”
“Alright, fine.”
It had been a long time since Xiao played Go and Mochou definitely had more experience, which gave him a clear upper hand in their first few games. Mochou offered to explain the rules and Xiao agreed. Not because he was actually interested in improving and winning the game but because he could tell it meant a lot to Mochou that he at least put in a decent effort.
Xiao wanted Mochou to have a fun evening, and if that meant offering a little challenge in a silly board game, then Xiao could do that for him.
They were playing on a small board but Mochou always ended up a piece or two short. He was using the white stones because he wanted Xiao to go first, and replaced any missing stones with petals of the qingxin flowers Xiao had plucked for him.
One time, after Xiao finished his move, he leaned back and studied Mochou’s face. It was strewn up in concentration as he brought a thumb up to his mouth, running his thumbnail across his lips as he thought. Xiao had never noticed that tick before.
“Aha!” Mochou hummed then put down his piece.
“I resign,” Xiao said.
Mochou grinned the widest grin Xiao had ever seen, flicking a stone between his fingers. “Once more you admit defeat in the face of my insurmountable power!”
“Now you’re getting power hungry,” Xiao said. “I think we better stop the games for the night.”
“You’re right. I guess you’ve lost enough times for one evening,” Mochou said, already scraping the stones from the board. He paused his cleaning, eyes flickering up. “Hey, um… I hope you had fun today.”
“It was alright,” Xiao said. “I was going to ask, did I do something?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been smiling all day. I was just wondering why.”
“I guess that’s just what happens when I spend lots of time around you,” Mochou said. “It’s pretty much the opposite of what you’d expect from a human in pain, huh?”
Xiao was already thinking that but to hear it aloud made his eyes pop.
He’d been wondering if today was maybe what his life would be like every day in a world where he didn’t have to worry about hurting humans with his power. Mochou’s company had indeed been very welcoming, and Xiao had enjoyed every one of Mochou’s expressions and observations about the world around them.
“Thank you very much for the company,” Xiao said. “I’m not the best in social situations, so hopefully I say this right, but it feels nice getting to spend time with you.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels that way,” Mochou said. “I really enjoyed our time together today, too.”
After Wanderer received his new name, a whole new level of intimacy developed between him and Xiao.
Xiao smiled more. He told Mochou about his day and discussed concepts of human nature with him. Sometimes, he even laughed.
Mochou finally achieved something he thought he could be proud of. He understood how simply seeing a certain someone every morning could bring a smile to his face. In that way, Mochou thought he’d started uncovering some of the secret formula that led to a happy, satisfied life.
There was still much to be uncovered, however. Whenever Mochou asked Xiao about his past or his karmic debt, he closed up, retreating back into his shell.
One night, after Mochou asked about Xiao’s past, Xiao grunted and crossed his arms.
“I have spent thousands of years in this pain. It’s my burden to carry— alone. You needn’t get yourself wrapped up in all of this.”
“Won’t you at least tell me how the karma came to be in the first place?”
“Why? ...Tch. It doesn’t matter,” Xiao said, shaking his head. “If you’re so insistent, then fine, I will tell you.
“Thousands of years ago, a cruel god enslaved me and forced me to mindlessly slaughter innocents against my will. The pain and torment it brought me was unbearable. I was brought to the brink of death multiple times, but death was a blessing I didn't deserve. Not after everything I’d done.
“Instead, a benevolent god named Morax saved me,” Xiao said. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked into the hands in his lap. “Morax released me from the endless pain I had endured and gave me a new name and purpose. I owe him everything. And it’s for that reason that I agreed to hunt demons in Liyue forever.”
Mochou listened, processing each word as Xiao spoke it. He’d never felt pain before or entertained the thought of death as a blessing.
Yet, somehow, Xiao’s words made him hurt.
They were familiar to some secret part of himself that had never revealed itself to him before.
Mochou felt a tight pang in his chest where he knew a heart ought to be. His hands curled into fists as tears drizzled down his cheeks.
“Mochou?” Xiao asked.
Mochou hastened to wipe the tears away as a dry laugh crackled out of his throat.
“I’m sorry. I have no idea what’s come over me.”
“You don’t have to cry over me,” Xiao said.
“Thousands of years,” Mochou said. “Thousands of years yearning to be ‘blessed with death.’”
“Yes.”
“Thousands of years spent alone, hopelessly waiting for someone to come and save you…” Mochou ran his fingers over each other, feeling texture there. Whoever created him had put the effort into carving delicate grooves into his fingerpads to act as fingerprints. “It all feels familiar to me. And I don’t know why.”
Mochou’s fingers tightened around each other. He averted Xiao’s eyes, feeling the pulse of more unexplained sadness inside of him, and sought to crush it before it could get any worse.
“Why? Why can’t I remember? You would think after waking up crying so many times I would at least have an idea, but no, it’s always the same thing,” Mochou said. “Always these stupid, meaningless tears that seem to sprout up whenever they feel like it but never come with any answers.
“I hate it! I should just know why they’re happening! Don’t I deserve at least that much in a life that’s so empty?” he asked. “You know what your purpose is. You remember the things that made you you. But I’m just some husk occupied by a mind that doesn’t know what it’s doing.”
“You are not a husk,” Xiao said. “You are Mochou. You like making dolls and reading. You talk to humans in the lobby and like to laugh. Those things do not sound like things that a husk would do.”
“Yes, but was there anything before that,” Mochou said. “Before I came here.”
Xiao looked a little confused at this question, and Mochou’s voice dripped with the slightest splash of acid as he said, “Forget it. You didn’t know what I was like before.”
“That is inconsequential,” Xiao said. “It only matters what you are like in the present. Consider it good luck that you have the ability to choose what you want your future to look like. You’re not plagued by the past like me.”
“But I am, in a way,” Mochou said. “I’m always wondering if something happened to me to make me feel so… lost.”
“If something happened to you, rest assured I would do everything in my power to punish those who wronged you,” Xiao said. “I would sooner lay down my life protecting you than allow someone to tarnish your soul the way darkness tarnished mine.”
“At least I have that going for me,” Mochou said, his tone a little dry with sarcasm.
Xiao’s eyebrows drew down and he frowned.
“Sorry. Now I’m just being unnecessarily cruel,” Mochou said. “I really do appreciate you. I guess I’m just not feeling very good right now.”
“Are you sick?”
Mochou shook his head. “It’s not a physical thing, it’s mental. May- maybe even emotional.”
The word left his mouth and he immediately felt like a big idiot for saying it. They’d had their share of conversations in the past about how confusing human emotions were, and now here he was, admitting to succumbing to them in a way he didn’t even think was possible.
“Which emotion?” Xiao asked.
This was a funny question because it made it sound like Mochou was capable of diagnosing his feelings and that either of them would be able to make out a meaning in those feelings anyway.
“Sadness. Anger. Worry,” Mochou said. “The feelings are stupid. Let’s not dwell on them.”
“Hang on, but you’re worried about something?” Xiao asked.
“The future,” Mochou said.
“You’re always welcome here at Wangshu Inn. With me. Isn’t that a good enough future?”
“It is,” Mochou said. “And in fact, I never said it wasn’t.”
“Of course. I was foolish to think any differently.”
“I don’t think it was foolish at all. I think it’s quite sweet, actually. Thank you for reassuring me,” Mochou said.
Xiao was right. For the moment, all he needed to worry about was the present. And staying at Wangshu Inn was going fine.
Following the day’s previous discussion, Mochou’s mind became saturated with questions. He found it hard to focus on work when all he could think about was Xiao’s words.
If something happened to you, rest assured I would do everything in my power to punish those who wronged you.
I would sooner lay down my life protecting you than allow someone to tarnish your soul the way darkness tarnished mine.
At the time of Xiao saying those words yesterday, Mochou had been so wrapped up in his own problems that he’d dismissed them too quickly to grant them the consideration they deserved. But now they were the only thing he could think about.
He had to find something to offer in return. He couldn’t allow Xiao to be the only one contributing anything! Even if it was just tofu or more of Mochou’s time, he’d give Xiao something.
Mochou caught Xiao in the hallway later that night and ushered him into his room. Xiao didn’t find this strange — they usually had their conversations about humans behind closed doors lest anyone other than Verr Goldet overhear and think they were up to something fishy.
“Was there something on your mind?” Xiao asked as he dropped into the desk chair across the room.
Mochou sat down on the edge of the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him. The shorts were short enough to expose his knobby knees. “Going back to the ‘lay down my life’ thing… I don’t have much strength to speak of, so I can’t really offer the same in return. But I can offer to cook as much almond tofu as you’d like.”
Xiao laughed, and even though it was a small sound, it still made Mochou smile. “I don’t need anything in return for offering my protection. It’s just that you are one of the kindest and nicest beings I know and I would like to keep it that way,” Xiao said. “And remember that the adepti do not need to eat. I can barely stomach most foods anyway— I’m extremely sensitive to many flavors and textures.”
“So you’re refusing my offer of a lifetime supply of almond tofu,” Mochou joked. “Then what am I supposed to offer you in its stead? There must be something I can give you in return for the kindness you’re showing me by giving me your protection.”
“You wanted nothing from me when we first met, and so I shall ask nothing of you in return. You’ve taught me how far even a small gesture of kindness can reach. Consider this an expression of my gratitude for your effort to get close to me.”
Mochou nodded. “From the moment we met, I sensed that you were familiar yet different, like me. I’ve heard humans call this feeling meeting a ‘kindred spirit.’ I don’t really know if that’s right, but we definitely have a connection, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, we do,” Xiao said.
“And that connection runs deep now. It’s not something either of us could sever.”
“No, it is not.”
Mochou smiled. “I’m relieved to hear you agree.”
Xiao shook his head. “You still perplex me in so many ways that I fear I might never understand…”
“Maybe that’s a truth to be said of everybody,” Mochou said. “Each person is comprised of experiences that make them who they are. Strangely enough, there’s not much to me at all, so I’m not sure how I could confuse you.”
“Forget I said that,” Xiao said. “I wouldn’t be able to explain it properly anyway.”
“Done,” Mochou said.
Mochou smiled at Xiao and Xiao returned the smile with one of his own. There was another spark of emotion within him and he sucked in an unnecessary breath as he said, “You know, lately I’ve been wondering to myself whether emotions are exclusive to humans.”
“Hm? What do you mean?” Xiao asked.
“You’ve told me before that you can’t make much of human emotions and I used to feel similarly. But maybe they aren’t as pointless as I thought.”
“What makes you think that?”
“When we spend time together, it makes me happy. The fact that I’m able to experience such a feeling tells me they aren’t exclusive to just humans. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you? That tingle inside. That smile on your lips. It’s a good thing, and I want to see more of it.”
“Now that you mention it, the pain from my karmic debt has lessened recently. Perhaps this happiness you speak of has something to do with it?”
“Maybe it does,” Mochou said. “I know that it can’t hurt.”
“You’re right.” Xiao shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder what I ever did without you. You state such simple truths, but when you lay them out like that, suddenly the world doesn’t feel as cold a place as I once thought it was.”
“You make me feel the same way,” Mochou said. “I never would have reached this conclusion without your help.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You became my friend, and that has made all the difference,” Mochou said.
Xiao shook his head, uttering a baffled laugh, as Mochou smiled.
Chapter 3: Truths Hidden, Bonds Signed Pt. I
Summary:
Mochou visits Liyue Harbor to meet a friend of Xiao's.
Chapter Text
“I would like to know more about Morax.”
A few days later, Xiao sat with Mochou while he washed clothes, sitting on the floor with a bucket of warm water, a washboard, and some bedsheets.
Xiao crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. “What do you want to know about him?”
“What kind of person is he?”
“He is strong and kind. The people of Liyue love him, and for good reason.”
“Where does he live?”
“He is not beholden to one place. Although recently, he has taken up residence in Liyue Harbor.”
“Does he ever come to visit?”
Xiao scoffed. “I am far too busy with work to entertain his company. And I am not interested in interfering in his peaceful retirement with my trivial matters.”
“I see,” Mochou said.
It would seem that relationships were still as prickly as they had ever been when it came to Xiao, even among the one person he admired more than anyone else.
“I ask that you not share this information with anyone else,” Xiao said. “I respect Rex Lapis’s privacy and I expect you to as well.”
“Of course.”
A few days later, Mochou woke from another dreamless rest, tears staining the porcelain curves of his cheeks. He wiped them away, replaced his hat atop his head, and set off for the front desk.
“Good morning, Boss Verr Goldet,” Mochou said as he approached.
Verr Goldet looked as awake as always despite the dew still on the morning grass outside.
“Good morning,” she said. “What’s that look on your face? Do you have another question about Adeptus Xiao?”
It was true that he usually bombarded her with all sorts of questions about Xiao, only half of which usually got answered.
“Not today,” Mochou said. “I actually had a different question in mind. Are you familiar with ‘Morax’?”
“‘Morax’?” Boss Verr Goldet repeated. “Oh. We don’t call the geo archon ‘Morax.’ We know him more colloquially as ‘Rex Lapis.’ It’s also just a more respectful way of referring to him.”
“My apologies. Rex Lapis,” Mochou said.
“What do you want to know about him?”
“What sort of person is he?”
“He was a highly respected and beloved god of our lands, but he passed away some time ago.”
“He did?” Mochou asked.
“Yes,” Boss Verr Goldet said. “You didn’t know that?”
“No,” Mochou said. Was that what Xiao had meant when he told Mochou to keep Rex Lapis’s retirement a secret? “I’m… sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“I had another question. Do you mind pointing me in the direction of Liyue Harbor?”
Boss Verr Goldet pointed. “It’s past those mountains there. It’s well-traveled, so you shouldn’t have too much trouble with monsters, despite the lack of combat experience.”
“You don’t have to worry about me; I can look after myself.”
A wry smirk tugged at the edge of her lips. “You sound just like Xiao,” she said. “Why do you want to travel there?”
“There’s someone I want to meet who lives there,” Mochou said. “Speaking of. Since I’ll be away for a while, I would like to return my room key.”
“You should probably check in with Xiao before you leave. And keep the key to yourself; you’re only skipping over there for a short while, right? Your room will get booked as soon as you leave. Best to keep it assigned to you until you leave permanently.”
“I wasn’t sure you had the resources to weather an inconvenience like that.”
“Liyue Harbor is only roughly three days’ walk from here. I can tolerate an empty room for a week.”
“Thank you,” Mochou said.
“You’re welcome.”
Mochou left Wangshu Inn and meandered through the Guili Plains for a few minutes before stopping next to a dilapidated fence. He leaned against one of its aging posts and crossed his arms.
“Xiao?”
It was the second time Mochou called Xiao’s name like this, yet it didn’t feel any less awkward.
“You called for me?”
Xiao’s voice emerged behind Mochou’s back and he couldn’t help his smile as he turned around to greet him. Xiao clutched his spear in his hand but as soon as he saw that Mochou wasn’t in danger, he sent it away and crossed his arms.
“I’m going away for a few days,” Mochou said. “I wanted to let you know so you didn’t worry about where I’d gone.”
“Do as you wish; it has no bearing on me,” Xiao said.
Mochou nodded; he had been expecting that response.
“I’ll see you in a few days,” Mochou said, the edge of the sentence tinged with uncertainty.
“Stay safe. And remember — if you ever have need of me, just call out my name. I will be there when you call.”
“Of course,” Mochou said.
Life at Wangshu Inn had softened Mochou up a little.
He found traveling to be quite tedious, although at least it wasn’t speckled with monsters as other places were. The paths were clear-cut and so popular with travelers that most of the path included lit lanterns.
Even in the middle of the night, when Mochou could practically feel his joints creaking from all of the repeated movement, the lanterns were still lit.
It was the evening of the second day and the sun was beginning to set when Mochou crested the hill and saw Liyue Harbor for the first time.
Humans probably would have called the view “breathtaking,” but because Mochou had no breath to speak of, he wasn’t overly affected by its appearance aside from being slightly impressed. Even for an artificial creature like himself, he had to steal a few extra minutes just to bask in its beauty.
“Rex Lapis? Of course I know of him, but he’s been gone for a long time. I’m so sorry to break it to you like this, but he has already passed away.”
“You’re looking for Rex Lapis? But wasn’t a Rite of Parting already held for him two years ago?”
“You’re quite a strange young man, asking about meeting gods in person. They have more important things to do than waste their time with us.”
Mochou must have asked half the harbor about the geo archon by the time the sun had set and people started retreating inside for the night. Mochou hadn’t brought much mora with him and he hadn’t considered that he might have to find shelter outside.
The realization didn’t bother him. What bothered him was the human who had told him that Rex Lapis had had a Rite of Parting ceremony.
Xiao had spoken like Rex Lapis was still alive, though. And certainly he would have known if that “alive” status had suddenly changed. Maybe Mochou had been wrong to assume that the “retirement” Xiao spoke of and the possibly staged death were related?
Agh, gods were such confusing, complicated beings. Never making themselves easy to find when others needed them and always switching names like putting on new clothing every day.
That night, Mochou picked out a narrow alleyway and hid himself away. He’d long ago convinced himself that he couldn’t feel pain but his joints creaked when he folded his knees up to his chest. He was cold and sleepy despite himself, worn out from nothing but walking for thirty consecutive hours. Before Mochou could help it, he’d fallen asleep, his arms curled loosely around his slim stomach.
Sometime in the middle of the night, Mochou felt something tugging at his arm.
Still addled by the lure of sleep, he kept his eyes closed and fell limp against the cobblestones beneath him. When something began to lift him from his spot, he didn’t have the energy to protest and wasn’t worried about where he might be taken.
After all, he’d never been put into a situation he couldn’t get himself out of.
When Mochou woke again, it was completely dark.
He heard birdsong outside and the familiar creak of footsteps on wooden floorboards that told him he was indoors.
Mochou pushed himself up into a sitting position, his head knocking into something above him. He ran his fingers over the low wooden ceiling, searching for something to grip onto. Finding nothing, he resorted to force, pushing the slab of wood away.
It wasn’t as heavy as he’d thought and it hit the floor with a dull thud.
Now that light flooded in, he could clearly see that someone had put him into a shallow wooden coffin. He grabbed the edges of the box and hauled himself out of it, landing on the floor with a quiet “hmpf.”
A woman entered the room and froze in the doorway when her eyes fell on Mochou.
“Good morning,” Mochou said.
“Are you a demon?” she asked, her voice shrouded in a shocked whisper.
“No, I’m a puppet.”
She sighed, dropped her shoulders, and gestured to the doorway. “Let us talk in the adjacent room. It’s freezing in here.”
After a brief conversation with the undertaker woman named Ferrylady, Mochou learned that a passerby had found his lifeless body in the alleyway overnight and carried him to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor to be processed under the assumption that he had passed away.
The funeral staff had stored his body in the ice-room with the other cadavers until they could properly prepare a burial and seek a next of kin to claim his body.
The undertaker woman led Mochou to the lobby and approached the front desk where a young-looking woman sat in front of a rolled-out piece of parchment.
“Hu Tao, I’m afraid there’s been a mistake and this young man isn’t dead after all,” Ferrylady said.
Hu Tao stopped writing on her parchment and stared at him. When her blossom-shaped pupils fell on Mochou, he squirmed. “What’s this then? He’s come back from the dead? But how?!”
“I was never alive to begin with,” Mochou said.
Usually, he wouldn’t resort to telling a stranger that sort of thing so directly but it seemed the easiest way to clear up his predicament quickly.
“And what do you think you were doing in that alleyway then, hmm?” Hu Tao asked.
“I was sleeping.”
“Sleeping? You just said you’re not alive but you need sleep?”
“I’d been traveling for two days and I was tired,” Mochou said. “That’s besides the point, though. I’m sorry for any inconvenience I might have caused you.”
Hu Tao and Ferrylady exchanged a look and Mochou adjusted the hat on his head. “Since I’m already at the funeral parlor, I might as well ask. Have you seen Rex Lapis around? Do you know how he died?”
At this question, Hu Tao burst out laughing. If Mochou could blush, he probably would be.
Was his question strange? Why was it so funny? Humans certainly could be confusing sometimes.
“No, eccentric young mister, I haven’t seen him,” Hu Tao said. “Anyway, if you’re interested in learning more about his funeral, you can ask Zhongli. He helped process everything and prepare the rite.”
“Why are you searching for Rex Lapis?”
A deep voice carried over from a large table nearby. Mochou turned, his eyes falling upon a man who sat rigidly in front of a steaming pot of morning tea.
“A friend I know is close to him. This friend is very important to me, so I figured that I should get to know his other friends better, too,” Mochou said.
“What is your friend’s name?” The deep voice asked.
“Adeptus Xiao.”
The man pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. He was taller than Mochou had expected, causing Mochou to angle his head backward slightly to meet his eyes as he approached.
“Hu Tao, I will be taking my lunch early today,” the man said.
“Alright, so long as you don’t stay out all day.”
“Let us be off. I know a place that serves splendid Pu-Erh tea.”
The man started to walk out of the room without explaining any further and Mochou strutted after him.
“Tea? But how is that going to help me find Rex Lapis?” Mochou asked. “Can’t you just tell me where he is?”
“There is no need to be so impatient,” he said. “All will become clear with time.”
Mochou followed the man the rest of the way to the teashop in silence.
It wasn’t until the pair had found isolated seats up on a balcony overlooking the harbor that the man started talking to him again. Before even that, however, he slowly poured himself a cup of tea and leaned back to take a sip.
Mochou had seen humans eat and drink food plenty of times before. But the way this man sipped his tea was with such intention and focus, like every minor gesture had to mean something.
It was the most mundane of all human behaviors Mochou had witnessed.
“Before we resume the discussion from earlier, I feel I must introduce myself. I have a great many names, but the one you know me by is Rex Lapis. Since I’m still currently on leave, I would prefer you address me as ‘Zhongli.’”
The word fell from Zhongli’s lips and Mochou’s jaw dropped open.
He should have known from how the man carried himself that he wasn’t just some random human. He was stately, intelligent, and yet still approachable, which made sense considering the status he’d just divulged.
Mochou hoped that he had behaved himself enough up to that point to leave a good first impression. He definitely wanted to be on Rex Lapis’s good side, after all.
“I’m honored to meet you,” Mochou said with a bow of his head. “My name is Mochou and I’m a traveling wanderer.”
“Mochou. What an interesting name.”
“Xiao gave it to me,” he said.
Zhongli must have caught him smiling despite himself because he saw a small smile cracking open on his lips, too. It brought Mochou some relief to see that Zhongli was capable of smiling like that and wasn’t going to be cold with him like Xiao had been at the beginning.
“What is the true nature of your relationship with the young adeptus?”
Mochou had come prepared with an answer to this question and the earlier confession of his non-human status made it easier to say. “I’m sure you overheard the conversation earlier, but I am not human,” Mochou said. “Xiao helps me understand humans better, and in return, I provide him company when he’s lonely.”
“Is that really all you do?” Zhongli asked.
“Yes?” Mochou asked. He had assumed that was a given. “It took a lot of work and trust to get this close to Xiao. And I wouldn’t have come all this way to meet you if I were forming some plan against him.”
“Hm, that is true… then is it perhaps a contract that you’re after?”
“A contract?”
“You said both of you are good friends. And as the God of Contracts, I could help with appraising and blessing a contract between both of you.”
“That’s not why I came in search of you either,” Mochou said. “I just wanted to know what a friend of Xiao’s looks like.”
“So, you were curious about me,” Zhongli said.
Mochou nodded.
“I must admit that I am very curious about you as well,” Zhongli said. “You are hiding a great many layers of complexity underneath that skin of yours. I was hoping you would be more forthright with me about them if you are truly the friend of Xiao’s that you say you are.”
“What do you mean?” Mochou asked, leaning backward slightly in his chair. Zhongli’s stare was now edged with danger where it hadn’t been before. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“There is no need to play innocent. I can sense the powerful energy sealed within you. You also do not carry a vision, yet I can sense traces of electro emanating from you.”
“Sealed energy? Electro?” Mochou repeated. “I-I don’t know anything about that.”
Where was all of this coming from? Xiao had never mentioned anything about that. Was that because this was only a thing that a god could sense? Had someone done something to Mochou when he wasn’t looking?
Mochou had never gotten into a fight and definitely hadn’t tried using powers he was certain he didn’t have. But this electro business… Was there some way for him to harness it?
“Then excuse me for being so presumptuous,” Zhongli said, and just like that, he’d returned the rug underneath Mochou’s feet, pushing the conversation ever-forward like this new monumental discovery was just another leaf blowing by on the wind. He poured himself another cup of tea and gestured to the teapot. “Would you like some?”
“Do you have anything bitter?” Mochou asked, playing along with Zhongli for the time being. Perhaps a cup of his favorite tea would help him swallow this new discovery.
“Liyue is not known for bitter teas. Might I suggest a smoky flavor instead? There is the popular lapsang souchong, or perhaps you would enjoy da hong pao.”
“I’ll take whatever is strongest.”
“Kuding it is, then. That is a brave choice. Not many people are able to stomach its sharp bitterness.”
Mochou shrugged. “I’m only interested in foods that have strong, unique flavors. Other things don’t really interest me.”
Zhongli nodded, slow and deliberate, as he brought his teacup up to his lips once more. “I see.”
The more time Mochou spent with Zhongli over lunch, the more grateful he was that he had come.
Mochou had never met a god before, let alone one who was so old, which must have been why Zhongli felt so calming to be around. Xiao admired him for good reason. When Zhongli opened his mouth, much of what came out didn’t sound very different from what a human might say, yet Mochou chose to treat each syllable with reverence. Zhongli talked about his morning, from the sunrise to the twitter of the birds outside. Although they were such simple observations, they were ones Mochou had never considered before. Yet Zhongli made them sound so amazing.
“What has Xiao taught you about humans?” Zhongli asked.
“He taught me that humans are quite complex creatures,” Mochou said. “I used to think they were simple. They don’t need much to be happy— just a roof over their head and some food and water. But it turns out that that’s not all there is to it. They’re fragile, and emotional, and more trouble than it’s worth. But I can tell that Xiao really likes humans, otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to protect them with his life.”
“Why do you think Xiao likes humans?”
Mochou chewed the inside of his mouth. “I’m not sure. I’ve never asked him. Why do you think Xiao likes humans?”
“He gets fulfillment from protecting others,” Zhongli said. “And humans are kind to him despite his karmic debt. I suspect he would greatly enjoy their company if he were capable of it without worrying about harming them.”
“He’s not missing out on much,” Mochou said.
“Oh?” Zhongli hummed. “You don’t like them?”
“Not really,” Mochou asked. “I guess they’re okay. They still don’t make a lot of sense to me.”
“They all are trying to make the most out of their limited time on this earth. Some will do so at any cost.”
“That’s so foolish,” Mochou said. “Why would humans risk their short lives just to get something they want?”
“Some things are simply that important.”
“Like what?”
“Like love,” Zhongli said.
Mochou frowned. “I can’t make anything of that emotion.”
Zhongli laughed. “No, I suppose not. But perhaps, once you understand love, then humans will begin to make a lot more sense.”
“I don’t even know what love is.”
“You will know it when you see it. Trust me.”
“Okay.”
Zhongli lifted the tea kettle and tipped it down to pour himself more tea, but nothing came out. He shook his head.
“It would seem that my supply of tea has run dry. It is beginning to be about that time. I should head back to the funeral parlor.”
“Wait! I still have so many questions. Could we speak again later?” Mochou asked.
“Sure,” Zhongli said. “The Yun-Han Opera Troupe is holding a performance tonight at Heyu Tea House. We shall meet there at sundown.”
“Okay.”
“Before I release you, however… would you mind terribly much helping with the tab? I seem to have forgotten my wallet at home.”
Chapter 4: Truths Hidden, Bonds Signed Pt. II
Summary:
Mochou and Zhongli attend a performance. Mochou and Xiao talk.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Liyue was large, much larger than Wangshu Inn. And because Mochou had the rest of the day to spend, he used that time to explore the city.
He wandered into a few different shops looking at things he knew he didn’t want to buy, but the shopkeepers didn’t mind. He’d already visited a tea shop, a weapon shop, and a restaurant. He was less interested in what everyone was selling and more interested in the things going on behind the counter.
He wanted to ask the blacksmith how much effort it took to flatten crude metal into something that could be used to fight with. He wanted to ask the lady chef how long it had taken her to perfect the recipe for the buns she’d handed him when she saw him staring into their window from the street.
After Mochou finished the steamed buns, he decided he wanted to explore the levels of red-planked passageways above him.
The Wanwen Bookhouse was up several flights of stairs, but the walking had been worth it when Mochou approached one of the tables and noticed a stack of yellow books with the geo symbol stamped on the front.
The title read, “Verses of Equilibrium” and Mochou picked up one of the copies to read the first several pages.
There were words he recognized — like “Rex Lapis” — and words he didn’t, like “yaksha.” A little further reading told Mochou that the yaksha were a race of illuminated beasts tasked with quelling the lingering hatred of fallen gods from the Archon War, which caused plagues, curses, and miasmas all over Liyue.
“Found one that you like?” the bookshop owner asked.
“Do you know anything about the yaksha adepti?” Mochou asked.
“Read the book and you might find the answers you’re looking for,” the woman said.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have the mora to buy it today.”
“That’s okay. We have more copies than we know what to do with right now, so I’ll let you have that one for free.”
“Thank you,” Mochou said.
“Anything else you’re looking for?”
“Do you have any more books on the yakshas?”
“Let me see what I can find.”
The woman rose from her desk and approached one of the bookshelves. She gestured to Mochou as she knelt to thumb through the contents on the very bottom. “Our collection is a little sparse at the moment, but we have one or two things here…”
Most of the books had brightly colored spines and titles to do more with Rex Lapis than the adepti themselves. One title, “Yakshas: The Guardian Adepti,” belonged to a worn cover assembled with traditional bookbinding techniques. The thread that bound it shone a dull red in the sunlight.
Mochou pulled the book from the shelf and gasped — that was Xiao’s Nuo mask on the cover, no doubt about it!
“That one has seen some wear,” the woman said. “The author’s writing style is very archaic, so it’s unpopular. Are you sure you don’t want something more modern?”
Mochou opened the book, its pages crisping in his hands. Despite its age, the book’s inner pages were still fresh, as if it had been deteriorating on the shelf for a long time without ever seeing sunlight.
“No, this is exactly what I was looking for,” Mochou said. He ran his hand across the cover again, brushing the crusted dust away from its edges.
The woman sighed. “You’re going to run me out of business if you keep looking at all my books like that, but… alright, I’ll let you have that one free of charge, too. But that’s the last handout I’m offering.”
“Thank you,” Mochou said. “I really appreciate it.”
That evening, after spending much of the afternoon reading near the harbor, Mochou walked back up the bright red planks to Heyu Tea House.
A lot of people had come out for the performance but it was easy to spot Zhongli among the crowd because he was so tall. He was seated alone at a table near the front of the stage, a long, thin trail of his hair resting along his back. Mochou stepped past the other people to take the chair across from him.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Zhongli said.
“I’ve been waiting all day,” Mochou said.
He noticed that Zhongli had already brought out a tall bottle of liquor and poured Mochou a small glass. He poured himself a glass too, then slid Mochou’s across the table toward him.
Mochou accepted the glass, leaned back in his chair, and threw the drink back. It left a burning trail down his throat and he gagged.
Zhongli laughed. “I remembered what you said about strong flavors. I assume that was sufficient?”
“Yeah, it sure was something,” Mochou said.
“Baijiu is meant to be consumed in small shots,” Zhongli said. “And we must always toast before drinking. When toasting, always remember to undercut the other person’s glass.”
Mochou tilted his head at this, obviously confused, and Zhongli refilled his glass in response. Then he lifted his and gestured for Mochou to do the same.
“Keep the lip of your drink lower than the other person’s,” Zhongli advised.
Their glasses clinked together once, and Zhongli explained that it was Mochou’s turn to clink his lower. They continued this until Mochou’s wrist hit the table and he had to stop.
“Good,” Zhongli said, satisfied, and finally drank his glass.
The loud thrum of a drum soon indicated the beginning of the play’s performance. The audience fell silent as women dressed in traditional robes and headdresses walked out onto the stage.
There were nine women, eight of them carrying lanterns hanging from wooden poles. They lined up in a semicircle around the back of the stage as the main performer stepped into the center.
Mochou recognized the long, drawling notes playing from an erhu offstage somewhere, accompanied by other traditional instruments.
The main performer wore even more intricately embroidered fabrics than the ones standing behind her. She brought a fan up in front of her face, obscuring everything but the red-tinted eyeliner and the gigantic, jeweled headdress.
Mochou leaned forward in his chair, enraptured by the sound that rang out over the crowd.
She pulled the fan back, revealing her scarlet lips and slight flash of teeth, as the note continued.
“Where’s that sound coming from?” Mochou whispered.
“Her,” Zhongli said.
Mochou hadn’t even realized her mouth was open!
Zhongli made another toast, they clinked glasses, and the woman on stage continued her long, drawling notes.
By the end of the night, Zhongli had made two more toasts and Mochou’s head started to list to one side. He always righted himself after a few seconds, blinking away whatever spell was making him feel so groggy.
The lady’s singing was magnificent. Colors were so bright, noises were so loud, and those things together made Liyue gorgeous at night.
When the last notes faded into the starry sky, Mochou rose from his seat and toasted to the room.
“Ganbei!” he shouted, throwing his baijiu back, and the crowd applauded.
Zhongli laughed. “You’re having fun.”
Mochou dropped back into his chair and set his emptied glass down.
“That was amazing,” he said. “Are performances always like that?”
“Ms. Yun-Han’s are, at least,” Zhongli said. “The arts are always a treat to experience.”
“I want to see another.”
“Do you like opera?” Zhongli asked.
Mochou nodded.
“Next time, perhaps we can go to a play.”
“We should invite Xiao along, too.”
“Of course,” Zhongli said. “Now feels like a good time to go for a walk. Let us take a stroll by the harbor to clear our heads.”
Mochou stumbled a little when he walked, but the more walking they did, the more it cleared his head from the muddled state it had gotten into over the course of the opera performance.
Mochou started feeling a little drowsy once they finally reached the boardwalk where ships were docked for the night. The sound of water sloshing against the hulls was so different from the opera singer’s voice earlier in the evening.
“Let us sit for a while,” Zhongli said.
Mochou didn’t need any more goading to sit down and hang his legs over the edge of the dock. Zhongli joined him at his side, though he didn’t slouch over like Mochou did.
“Do you have any idea where I might have come from? Or what purpose I might have been created for?” Mochou asked.
The question had been nagging at him all day. He’d almost been tempted to blurt it out during the opera performance too, before the lady had swept his attention away. Now that he could think a little more clearly, though, the burning question had returned.
“I'm not certain of anything, so I would prefer not to speculate. The sealed power that you hold could become quite dangerous in the wrong hands, and the less you interact with it, the better,” Zhongli said.
“Are you sure? But what if I am forgetting something, and that power has something to do with it?”
“Forgotten memories can still be a blessing,” Zhongli said. “Sometimes it’s best to keep the past hidden.”
Mochou frowned and stared down into the water. “I’m tired of feeling this way. I want a purpose, like Xiao. Like humans.”
Zhongli sighed. “This is beyond what I could help you with. However, if you insist that there is more to your memories than you think, then I know someone who might be able to help. Buer might have the proper resources. When it comes to information, the God of Wisdom and Irminsul in Sumeru are the first places you ought to check.”
“Do you really think she’d be able to help me?” Mochou asked. He lifted his head, staring into the gold of Zhongli’s irises.
“She may not have the time to spare for a stranger,” Zhongli said. “I am willing to provide a recommendation if you agree to forge a contract with me.”
“What are your terms?” Mochou asked.
“I permit you to use Rex Lapis’s name as leverage in official dealings with the other gods so long as you agree not to lay a hand against Adeptus Xiao.”
“Deal,” Mochou said.
Zhongli smiled. “Then allow me to write up a contract immediately.”
Mochou followed Zhongli back to his house, where Zhongli offered up a contract to Mochou that he was never going to actually read.
Zhongli asked Mochou if he had any other things he wanted to share with him but Mochou couldn’t think of anything. His mind had become consumed with thinking about tracking down the God of Wisdom and asking her whether she knew why he woke up crying so often from dreams he couldn’t remember.
“So you will be heading back to Wangshu Inn?” Zhongli asked.
“As soon as we’re done talking, yes,” Mochou said.
“I have another favor I would like to ask of you,” Zhongli said, hand slipping into his crisply pressed jacket. He revealed a bag tied shut with a drawstring. “Please, give this Remedium Tertiorum to him on my behalf. It helps with his pains.”
“Of course. It’s the least I can do for you after everything you’ve done for me,” Mochou said.
He accepted the bag and slipped it into his obi.
“I’d like to propose something else as well,” Zhongli said. “You should give Xiao a hug when you see him again.”
“Okay.”
It was snowing by the time Mochou returned to Guili Plains. Some of the marshes were frosted over with layers of ice, glimmering yellow and orange in the light of the setting sun. Snowfall froze Mochou’s ears and nose, which he couldn’t feel anymore.
He’d always been inside the inn when the weather got like this. He had forgotten that there was a time when he used to be in this sort of weather all the time. How had he ever tolerated it? It made his joints creak so much!
As soon as the inn came into view, Mochou’s eyes tracked the balconies, searching for a certain adeptus.
He doubted Xiao would be out right now. But maybe, possibly, he had wanted to see the sunset.
Mochou smelled dinner wafting into his nose when he finally spotted a figure leaned against the balcony above him. Mouchou shouted and waved his arm, drawing Xiao’s attention to him.
“Xiao! I’m back!” Mochou shouted.
In a flash, Xiao disappeared from the balcony and reappeared in front of Mochou instead. Mochou jumped forward, caging Xiao in a hug before he could move another muscle.
Xiao briefly froze up and Mochou worried that maybe he’d injured him. But after another second of contact, Mochou felt hands brushing against his waist as Xiao returned his hug.
“I missed you,” Mochou said.
“You were only gone five days,” Xiao responded.
And yet he’d been counting the days, which was indicative enough that he felt the same way.
Mochou pulled away first and reached into his waistband to pull out the medicine Zhongli had given him.
“How was your visit with Zhongli-daren?” Xiao asked.
“How did you know I went to visit him?” Mochou asked.
“You weren’t exactly covering your trails well when you asked me where he was staying currently,” Xiao said. “Or with asking Verr Goldet which direction Liyue Harbor was.”
“Oh. I guess you’re right,” Mochou said. “My visit was good. I learned a lot from him. I didn’t expect him to be so tall.”
Xiao smiled. “What did you learn?”
Mochou sighed. “There’s so much, I don’t even know where to begin. He fed me many interesting things and took me to the opera! I slept in a coffin for the first time.”
Xiao’s expression turned dark. “Someone tried to kill you?”
“No, I…” Mochou cleared his throat. “Forget it. Zhongli wanted you to have this.”
He handed the medicine over and Xiao accepted it.
“Let’s continue talking inside,” Xiao said. “It’s not a good idea to stay out past dark.”
Xiao’s room was pretty much identical to Mochou’s aside from the weapons lined up along one wall. Mochou sat on the edge of Xiao’s bed and watched Xiao pull the cloth bag open and reach inside. He pinched a tablet between his fingers and ate it, closed the bag back up, and hid it away in the bedside table.
He smacked his lips a few times, suppressing a grimace, and Mochou frowned.
Xiao noticed and said, “It tastes very bitter.”
“That’s so funny. I love bitter things,” Mochou said.
“You do?”
“Yes. If only we could switch taste buds, then the medicine would be more palatable to you.”
The mattress sank down as Xiao sat next to Mochou and sighed. “Mochou. Tell me more about your visit to Liyue Harbor.”
“Where do I even begin?” Mochou asked. “I guess I’ll start at the beginning…”
Mochou told Xiao how he first saw Liyue Harbor as he crested over the hill, and then how he spent the rest of his night with his knees drawn uncomfortably up against his chest. Xiao didn’t look pleased about Mochou’s decision to sleep in the alleyway, and his eyebrows shot up with worry when Mochou mentioned waking up in the funeral parlor.
But the discomfort quickly shifted into new interest when Mochou told Xiao about his conversation with Zhongli.
“Apparently, there’s power sealed inside of me,” Mochou said.
“Really?” Xiao asked. “Do you have any idea where it came from?”
Mochou shook his head. “Zhongli said he had a few ideas, but he didn’t want to speculate, so he refused to tell them to me. He said it’s best if I left my power alone. But I’m not so sure. If it could help me find a purpose or figure out who I am, then I want it.”
“There is a reason Zhongli didn’t tell you more about your power, and if he is actively trying to keep you from knowing more about it, then we should heed his warnings and leave it alone.”
Mochou frowned. “You really want me to ‘leave it alone’? Even if it might provide me with the purpose I’ve been wanting?”
“There is no guarantee that these powers are even connected to any of that. Perhaps they are just powers. But I don’t think we should try to find out.”
Xiao touched Mochou’s hand and Mochou looked up, but Xiao’s eyes had shifted away. As socially awkward as ever, Xiao’s hand moved away again.
“Whoever made you clearly created you with a purpose in mind. Maybe they abandoned that purpose but didn’t want to destroy you because they saw how wasteful that would be.”
“But that would mean I failed my purpose,” Mochou said.
“Your original purpose. You can find a new one,” Xiao said. “You could stay at Wangshu Inn, for example.”
“I’m so confused,” Mochou said. “I thought I’d experienced at least a little bit of life, but after spending some time with Zhongli, I feel like I’ve actually been asleep this whole time. Suddenly, things I had thought were irrefutable aren’t as solid and reliable as I thought they were.”
“There’s a discordance inside of you that’s demanding answers,” Xiao said.
“Exactly,” Mochou said. “Zhongli said that Buer, the God of Wisdom, might be able to help me.”
He saw the look in Xiao’s eyes. The words they’d exchanged just seconds ago still left a serious look on his face.
“You are still insisting on finding answers,” Xiao said, “but what if the answers are not what you had hoped they were?”
“What do you mean?”
“The nightmares,” Xiao said, and Mochou winced.
“Something happened in your past that was not good. It is enough to make you wake crying,” Xiao continued. “You should think carefully before committing to this. How important is it to you that you know your past? Are you willing to accept that things might never be the same again?”
Mochou knew what Xiao wanted. Xiao wanted him to stay at Wangshu Inn, working alongside humans every day and spending the nights with him in one of their rooms, discussing whatever they wanted. Mochou would make Xiao almond tofu and they’d go on walks around the plains when the weather was agreeable.
But Mochou needed to do this. The side of him that always woke up distraught and confused demanded it. The other side, longing to be more than just a blank sheet of paper, begged to be anything else.
“I accept that,” Mochou whispered.
Xiao looked like he’d expected this answer. His shoulders were still squared, his expression still calculating, although the sigh of disappointment was enough to give him away.
“When will you be leaving?”
“Not for another two days at least. I want to spend more time with you before I leave.”
“Don’t let me hold you back.”
“You’re not holding me back! You’re spending time with me. And I really cherish that.”
“Hm.”
“You can say you do too, it’s okay,” Mochou said.
Xiao was still fresh with nerves from before and he was undoubtedly disappointed with Mochou’s decision. Mochou reached for Xiao’s hand again, this time keeping them together, and smiled brightly enough to at least ease Xiao’s shoulders down.
Mochou’s voice dropped into a whisper as he said, “Zhongli told me that you enjoy other people’s company.”
“If it’s yours, then that’s true,” Xiao said.
He broke from their hand-holding to conceal a yawn, closing his eyes in the process.
“Are you tired?” Mochou asked.
“The medicine makes me drowsy.”
“Maybe you should sleep tonight.”
Xiao looked like he might protest. Instead, he said, “Please.”
“I’ll turn the lights out,” Mochou said, already preparing to stand and cross the room to a lantern, but Xiao grabbed his wrist before he got very far.
“Leave them lit.”
“Alright.”
Xiao lay down in bed, his back flat against the mattress, and Mochou joined him. He stared up at the ceiling, which had faded into a rich orange from the light, and tried his best to stay still.
As it so often went for Mochou when he was in Xiao’s company, he didn’t stay quiet for very long.
“Hey—”
“—Mochou.”
Mochou had started to talk, but Xiao cut him off.
“Yeah?”
“Are you happy?” Xiao asked.
“Yes. Are you?”
“I’m the happiest I’ve felt in a long time.”
“Is that because I finally came back from Liyue Harbor?” Mochou asked. “I didn’t know that you’d missed me so much.”
“Yes. If I could have things my way, I’d go with you to Sumeru, too.”
“I can protect myself.”
“No, you can’t.”
Mochou laughed. He finally got up from his lying position, moving onto his side so he could study Xiao’s face as he spoke.
Mochou reached for Xiao’s hand and ran his fingertips over the calloused palms. “Don’t worry. If I ever need your help, I’ll just call for you. ‘Oh great Adeptus Xiao, please obliterate these hilichurls who dare cross my path!’”
Xiao laughed, sparking with a mirth that made Mochou grin. Then he frowned again and Mochou sighed.
“Really, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ve lasted this long without anything bad happening to me.” He scoffed. “It’s a miracle, really. You’d think that in my few hundred years of life, I would have at least been mugged once.”
“You need to promise me that you’ll be careful. Always stay on the path and travel with others if you can, but don’t trust them,” Xiao said. “You mustn’t allow yourself to be exploited.”
Mochou grinned. He’d trusted Xiao from the beginning despite him being a stranger.
Still, his advice was sound.
“I promise. I promise that no matter what happens with Buer, I’ll come back and tell you all about it. I’ll be careful, and won’t get into any trouble.”
Xiao heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. He looked so, so tired. “Good.”
There was much more that Mochou wanted to say. He wanted to tell Xiao how much he wished there was something they could do about his karma. He wanted to tell Xiao how amazing the opera performance had been, and how calming Zhongli’s presence was, and how, when Mochou was sitting on that dock with Zhongli next to him, there had been this deep, secret begging to call Xiao’s name.
Mochou probably could have spoken for an eternity with Xiao about everything, but Xiao looked so tired, and Mochou knew he needed to let Xiao sleep.
Mochou stopped talking and Xiao’s breaths slowed.
The medicine had done its work and Xiao fell asleep.
But Mochou never stopped staring at him.
His mind was merciless with how rapidly it flitted between different thoughts. Now that he’d established that he was leaving soon, he had much to think about for the coming future.
I want to feel love. I want a heart. I want to be human.
I don’t want this moment to end. I don’t want things to change. I don’t want to become someone else if it’s not someone who loves Xiao.
Maybe his fears were unfounded, but he’d never had to come face-to-face with uncertainty like this before. He found a little reassurance in Xiao’s slack-mouthed expression and the deep, jade-hued strands of hair that always brought a smile to Mochou’s lips.
Mochou couldn’t imagine himself in a future where he didn’t love Xiao.
That’s so funny, Mochou thought. “You will know love when you see it.” Is this what it looks like? Is it Xiao?
The answer had been in front of him the whole time. It was like someone had plucked a rock out of a river and turned it over, revealing that it had been a geode glimmering with vivid amethyst gemstones the whole time.
Mochou wanted to try saying it aloud just to see how it would feel. If confessing his feelings could make them feel any more real inside.
“Hey, Xiao?” he whispered.
“Hm?” Xiao hummed, the sound slow and thick with sleep.
“I love you.”
The words echoed in Mochou’s ears when he said it. They spilled out of his mouth and onto the bed, enveloping him in warmth, so small and delicate like the qingxin flowers Xiao had given him.
Xiao didn’t even open his eyes as he reached for Mochou’s arm and pulled him closer. Such a display of physical contact was rare for him, which made Mochou cherish it even more. Mochou hugged Xiao, minding the spikes on the one edge of his shoulder, and pressed his ear right up against Xiao’s heartbeat.
“Love you too,” Xiao said in his soothing, slightly raspy, voice.
Mochou would never forget the sound as long as he lived.
Notes:
Are you ready for the next chapter? I don't think you're ready!!! 😆
Thank you to anyone who's read this far! I'm looking forward to showing you what I have in store. A kudos would be some great encouragement for me! 💜
(ALSO HAPPY LATE XIAO BIRTHDAY!!! Can we talk for a second about how his birthday post said, "Having you around would make even qingxin feel like a treat"?? The same qingxin Mohcou ate? And liked? The irony.
I first wrote that scene back in December! Oh how time has passed.)
Chapter 5: Confessions under a Starlit Night
Summary:
Mochou and Xiao celebrate Lantern Rite ahead of Mochou's journey to Sumeru.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
When Xiao woke in the morning, Mochou had already gotten out of bed. Xiao lay in bed a little longer and stared at the ceiling as he listened to the chorus of little pains across his body.
His head hurt, his vision was a little foggy, and his wrists popped when he flexed them, but otherwise he experienced nothing but the usual pain, which manifested itself as a tight nerve in the back of his neck.
“Good morning.”
Xiao hadn’t expected to hear Mochou’s voice without it being paired with the opening of the bedroom door, but then he remembered that Mochou’s breathless existence made it much easier for him to sneak up on Xiao if he wanted.
Xiao turned his head and saw that Mochou had pulled up a chair and was watching him wake up. Xiao rubbed his eyes and pushed himself into a sitting position.
“Are you ready for breakfast?” Mochou asked.
Xiao was and wasn’t at the same time. They would only have one more breakfast together like this before Mochou left and he wanted to delay it as much as possible. But, ideally, he’d also eat something before heading out today.
Which reminded Xiao.
He’d been meaning to ask Mochou to cook something other than almond tofu for him for a while. But Mochou always had a subject of conversation picked out and prepared as soon as he saw Xiao, and Xiao had trouble finding a way to subtly slip it into discussion. He’d failed to find a way to outright say it either, unwilling to put himself in a situation that might be embarrassing or awkward.
Time being what it was, however, he couldn’t wait any longer. He needed a dish from Mochou before he left. Something that, when he ate it, he could be reminded of Mochou’s smile again.
Smiley Yanxiao was the first to make Xiao almond tofu when he mentioned liking milder flavors. When Xiao ate it for the first time, it felt like he’d been wrapped in a warm embrace. The world had fallen away, leaving nothing but the shadow of a memory on his tongue.
Xiao valued that feeling. He appreciated those moments where food made from a friend could transport him somewhere kinder and more comforting, if even for a second.
And Mochou already knew that Xiao had a very sensitive stomach and couldn’t handle any harsh spices or textures. At the least, a dish could make him uncomfortable, and at its worst, it might mingle with the negative karma and give him a migraine.
Almond tofu reminded Xiao of the dreams he used to consume. The texture was second-nature to him, soft and melting in his mouth. Even thinking of it now made his stomach grumble.
“I will take that as a yes,” Mochou said, answering the question he’d asked before Xiao had gotten distracted.
Xiao grabbed Mochou’s wrist before he could move too far away. “Wait. I don’t want almond tofu today.”
“You don’t? Is something wrong?” He asked, looking genuinely concerned.
Xiao shook his head. “I want you to make me a… ‘Mochou’s Specialty’ dish.”
Mochou laughed at this and Xiao’s cheeks burned. “Custom-made just for you to help you tide over those long nights without me.”
Xiao wished Mochou hadn’t said that because there was no way the blush on his cheeks was helping in his case against this obvious truth.
“Either make something for me or don’t, I don’t care,” Xiao said.
Mochou shook his head. “Don’t worry, I think I have just the thing.”
Xiao had complained before about not liking having to wait too long for his food, and in all honesty that was still true even now, but Xiao could not deny that there was an underlying sense of excitement in wondering what Mochou was going to bring him.
It had been selfish of Xiao to never mention before that Mochou was allowed to cook things other than almond tofu. Just because that was what was most familiar did not mean that it had to be his favorite.
And if anyone was capable of understanding Xiao’s tastes, it was Mochou.
Xiao waited for about half an hour before Mochou came out with a plate and a metal cloche covering whatever the mystery food was. Mochou laughed at the open curiosity on Xiao’s face when he placed the plate on the table.
“Go ahead, open it,” Mochou said as he pulled his chair up and sat down across from him.
Xiao plucked the cloche up and looked underneath.
A bowl of rice balls in liquid stared up at him, two of them white, two of them pink.
“I made you tang yuan, or glutinous rice balls,” Mochou said. “I thought you might like them more than mochi. They have a very unique texture, just like almond tofu.”
Xiao took a spoon and dipped it into the bowl, fishing one of the balls out. The whole thing fit into his mouth, and he bit down.
The soft texture was indeed reminiscent of almond tofu, and was in fact why he liked the ladder so much, but the former was just as good. Red bean paste filling quickly flowed like lava into his mouth, joining the silk of the outer layer.
“Mmm, not bad,” Xiao hummed.
“You think so?” Mochou asked. “I’m glad!”
Xiao continued eating as Mochou watched. Then Xiao gestured to the bowl.
“Eat one,” he said.
“Okay,” Mochou said and grabbed his own spoon to eat.
Xiao glanced up at Mochou in regular intervals, trying to study what Mochou thought of his own cooking, but he gave nothing away. They emptied the bowl quickly, then Mochou dropped his spoon back into the bowl and leaned back in his chair.
“The inn was busier all last week, but it finally looks like it’s winding down today,” Mochou said. “I’ve heard that has something to do with something called a ‘Lantern Rite?’”
“It’s where humans all get together and discard glowing trash into the sea. It’s really quite a childish tradition.”
“That can’t be good for the planet,” Mochou said. “And humans don’t want to live somewhere polluted, so it all seems counterintuitive to me.”
“Exactly,” Xiao said.
“Verr Goldet said I could take the afternoon off to watch the lanterns if I wanted. I think I’ll look into it, but only if you come, too.”
“Okay,” Xiao said. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Xiao had been dreading the return of the Lantern Rite Festival, preparing for another year of Traveler insisting that he celebrate with everyone in Liyue Harbor.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the gesture — the company had been nice — but he hated inconveniencing people. Traveler and the others didn’t need to go out of their way just for him, risking the wellness of everyone else in the process.
And the festival itself always brought back memories. It was a reminder of the company he could no longer keep, whether that was human or yaksha.
Xiao often told himself that seeing other people happy was enough. He didn’t need to get closer or have company of his own to be satisfied.
After all, he had his debt to worry about.
But there was no doubting the comfort and joy that Mochou brought with him tonight.
The inn had gone quiet for the night, with most guests either on the public balconies or already gone and in Liyue Harbor. It was always like this. They scurried like ants through Wangshu Inn a few weeks before the festival, but on the actual day, everyone had long left for the harbor. Wangshu Inn was just another rest stop to be forgotten while people pursued their final destination.
Xiao helped Mochou onto the roof of the inn, where they sat on the shingles and talked.
Or Mochou talked. Xiao mostly listened, and he would have it no other way.
“I’ve been to Mondstadt and Inazuma before, but never Sumeru. What do you think it will be like?” Mochou asked. Although they were the only two people on the roof, his voice dipped down into a whisper. “I hope Buer is kind like Rex Lapis.”
“From what I know of gods, most of them are kind,” Xiao said. “One time, after I finished a particularly gruesome battle, it was only upon hearing the notes carried by a certain flute that the pain vanished enough for me to recover my senses. It was Barbatos, one of the Seven; no mere human could have managed to heal me just with their flute playing.”
“You didn’t tell me you were saved by two gods,” Mochou said, his mouth agape.
“There wasn’t need to mention it before.”
The sun was beginning to set now and Mochou turned his eyes onto the horizon. “I’m hopeful then that I will be blessed with the same treatment from the gods as you have.”
“I see no reason why they would not want to help you,” Xiao said.
Mochou’s lips pulled into another wry smile. “I don’t know, maybe Buer will sense the same thing Zhongli did and refuse to help me. But I won’t know unless I try.”
“Hm,” Xiao hummed.
So, Mochou indeed had considered that possibility, too. Mochou probably would be happier without that inkling of rejection in the back of his mind, but also, having his mind rooted in reality wasn’t a bad thing. It prepared him better for possible rejection.
In a semi-surprising twist, after that, Mochou stopped talking.
They watched the sun set. The world dipped into darkness and glittered with stars. Fireflies started to come out too as the winter cold bit at Xiao’s limbs.
Mochou had taken off his hat, revealing the deep purple hues in his hair, and set it next to him. He traced the flowerlike insignia on the top, humming absentmindedly. Xiao had asked once about the outfit, but just like everything else in Mochou’s past, he’d shrugged and said he didn’t know where it had come from.
He looked so peaceful like this. Completely in his own world.
“Mochou,” Xiao said.
Like a pet whose name had been called, he whipped his head toward Xiao and smiled.
Xiao had no idea why he had just done that. Perhaps he had just wanted to see how quick Mochou’s reaction speed was. Maybe he wanted to see Mochou’s smile more clearly. All Xiao was really certain of was that the smile was cute and it made him happy.
“What is it?” Mochou asked.
“Nothing,” Xiao said.
“Oh, okay.”
Mochou looked a little disappointed. He’d probably been hoping that Xiao would dispense some wisdom or observation about humans, but he wasn’t interested in the usual conversation today.
The holidays (and Mochou’s coming departure) were making him sentimental, reminding him of how it used to be with the other yakshas.
Two years ago, when Traveler had dragged him all the way to Liyue Harbor to ensure their “safe passage” to the festival, Xiao had watched the lanterns with such awe. Once he returned home, all he could think about were the children playing down below him and the couples who embraced and whispered sweet things to each other. He thought, too, how he was doomed never to live that sort of life.
He still longed for it even though he knew it was unachievable. It stung worse when he remembered how it had been with the other yakshas.
They had been that family. They’d been the only fleeting glimmer of joy in a life Xiao had no idea would soon become tainted with eternal pain.
He should have savored it more.
Xiao turned his eyes back onto Mochou.
“Did you know that there used to be other yaksha adepti like me?” he asked.
Mochou’s eyes lit up. “Yes! I’ve read about them. There were five who were known as ‘The Five Yaksha.’ You were one of them and you went by General Alatus.”
Xiao’s eyes widened. “Yes,” he said. “Did Zhongli tell you that?”
“No, I read a book,” Mochou said. “Were you all close?”
“Yes,” Xiao said. “They were my brothers and sisters. We fought together against the corruption many times.”
“But it took their lives, in the end.”
“Yes, it did,” Xiao said. “It was only until recently that I finally discovered what had become of Bosacius. I’m relieved that he can finally rest in peace.”
Mochou hummed.
In the distance, the mountainside slowly began to glow in faint yellows and oranges from Liyue Harbor.
They wouldn’t be able to see the actual lanterns from here, but there would be no missing the fireworks once they began.
“The other yakshas always spoke of how they all wanted to live mortal lives after the bloodshed subsided,” Xiao said. “I think I’m the only one who didn’t share that dream.”
“Why?” Mochou asked. “From what I’ve seen, mortal lives aren’t so bad. Yeah, they’re boring, but that’s how it should be. That seems to be how Zhongli sees things, anyway.”
“Perhaps,” Xiao said. “I suppose I couldn’t imagine slaughterers like us leading that kind of life. And I was already satisfied enough with the way things were. I couldn’t comprehend my life improving beyond what I had already experienced. After the Archon War, we spent some time together, but soon enough, my brothers and sisters were being consumed by their karmic debt. Any expectations I had about what my future would look like quickly vanished.”
“It’s sad to think that they will never get to see their dreams fulfilled,” Mochou said.
“It’s not all bad,” Xiao said. “We had our peaceful moments, too.”
“Really? What were they like?”
Xiao smiled. Oh boy, where to begin?
“Menogias was a stickler for appearances. He often insisted the Bosacius not run around bare-chested into battle, but he would not listen. Indarias and Bonanus were very close but I could never understand their fascination with human hobbies like fishing.”
He’d caught Mochou’s attention now, who smiled patiently as he listened.
Xiao could have stopped there but it felt good to reminisce. Thinking about them didn’t hurt like it usually did. There were some memories he hadn’t touched in a long time, but they weren’t bad, and thinking about them made him smile.
“Bosacius liked to pick on me. It was his way of trying to get me to ‘loosen up a little,’” Xiao said. “One time, I woke from a rest to find the four of them staring at me. But based on how Menogias held his head in his hands and Bonanus tried to conceal a snicker, I knew Bosacius had painted on my face while I was asleep.”
Mochou laughed. “I can only imagine what you must have looked like!”
“Probably an idiot,” Xiao said.
Mochou shook his head. “You’re not an idiot.”
Xiao smiled. “No, I’m not.”
“I’m happy that not all the memories are bad,” Mochou said. “It’s better to remember them the way they lived, not died.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Xiao said.
Certainly, the conversation had eaten up most of the festival time. The fireworks would be coming soon.
When the first firework whistled into the sky and exploded into sparks of color, Mochou gasped. His hand clamped down over Xiao’s and Xiao took the opportunity to intertwine their fingers together.
Mochou whipped his head back at Xiao and he worried for a second that Mochou would frown, but Mochou spared him an enthused smile before turning his eyes back onto the light show.
Xiao shouldn’t have been surprised to learn that this was Mochou’s first time seeing something like this. Xiao didn’t know what other countries were like but Liyue was proud of their fireworks.
Despite how noisy and bright they were, Xiao supposed he could let it slide tonight. After all, it wasn’t like he’d be spending much time looking at them anyway. He was much more interested in studying Mochou’s face.
Xiao stared at every slight shift of Mochou’s lavender eyes as they traced the fireworks across the sky. He studied the violet hair, dipped almost ink-black in the night, as it rested along the nape of his neck. Whenever Mochou leaned just a little more forward, his ornaments clinked together and Xiao smiled.
After the fireworks, Mochou spent some time babbling over how impressive they had been while Xiao listened and nodded.
“—And the colors! Fascinating. How do you think they get them to be different colors like that?”
“It’s actually simple,” Xiao said. “They fill each canister with different pigments that determine what the color will be when they’re ignited.”
“Just when I was starting to think that humans were getting boring, something always comes by to make me change my mind,” Mochou said.
Xiao smiled and Mochou smiled back.
The night could have ended there and he would have been happy. He could have pretended that tomorrow wasn’t coming at all and they could leave goodbyes until the very last moment.
“I’m going to miss you,” Mochou said, because of course he could not let a sleeping dog lie.
“I will miss you, too,” Xiao said.
“Whenever I want to see you again, I will close my eyes and meditate.”
“Even though you think it’s a waste of time?” Xiao asked.
He’d tried and clearly failed at a mocking tone when Mochou rolled his eyes.
“I never said that. It was just a little tough to get a hang of at first, but once I figured out that I just had to think about you, it got easier.”
“How does thinking of me help?”
“You’re very calm and very focused,” Mochou said. “I just imagine how you look when you meditate. I imagine the sound of my footsteps on the planks out on your favorite balcony and the sound of the water wheel outside your room. I imagine the sound of your laughter, and just like that, it feels like you’re right next to me again.”
Xiao’s face warmed and Mochou laughed.
“Did you know that when you get embarrassed, your cheeks turn purple? It must be the yaksha blood.”
“You’re seeing things,” Xiao grunted, crossing his arms.
“I made something for you to remember me by, but you have to promise not to call it childish,” Mochou said.
“I would never think of doing such a thing.”
“Of course not,” Mochou said.
He reached into his jinbei and pulled something out, but his hands were clasped around it to hide it. He brought the hands closer and opened them.
It was a miniature Mochou dressed in a simplified version of his outfit. Mochou gave it to Xiao, who cradled it in his hands.
“I’m forever grateful that you shared your world with me. You opened the door and I walked into a home I never would have found otherwise,” Mochou whispered.
“I never thought someone would take such a deep interest in me. ‘The adepti are nothing but slaughterers. We have a job to do, and that is all,’” Xiao said. “That is what I always believed. But you’ve shown me that that doesn’t have to be the only principle I live my life by. I can get close to others without fearing that our bond will lead to ruin.”
“Exactly,” Mochou said. “And I think your yaksha family would have been happy to hear that, too.”
“They would.”
The conversation eased into more silence, though Xiao’s ears still rang at the sound of fireworks. The karmic debt had been a lot worse in past years, as the fireworks always agitated it, and in truth he could definitely feel a pain that wasn’t there earlier in the day. While Mochou had been away visiting Zhongli, Xiao had put extra effort into the demon-slaying, since that activity always ramped up around this time.
But he could stay up a little longer if Mochou wanted to stay out later. It would be their last time together like this in a while, after all.
“You look sleepy and cold,” Mochou said. “Should we go back inside?”
“It’s fine out here,” Xiao said. There were fewer humans to worry about on the roof anyway.
“Lay your head on my lap and I’ll keep you warm,” Mochou said. “I might be artificial, but that also means I can share my clothing without worrying about frostbite. Unlike someone.”
Xiao wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to get close, so he did as Mochou asked and lay down.
It would take some trying to get more uncomfortable than this, but Mochou’s gesture had come from a place of kindness, and Xiao wasn’t going to change his mind just because a shingle was digging right into his lower back.
And actually, much to his surprise, the lap underneath his head felt warm.
“I don’t know what you were talking about, you feel warm to me,” Xiao said.
“Must be that ‘great power’ hidden inside of me,” he said.
“Maybe.”
Mochou shifted, then Xiao felt cloth draped over his shoulders.
“You’re coddling me like a human baby now,” Xiao said.
Mochou laughed. “I’m sorry! I can’t help it.”
Xiao sighed, but it was an amused sound, and he shifted a little to get more comfortable. He brought the miniature Mochou up to his chest from beneath the makeshift blanket so Mochou couldn’t see and make a comment.
Xiao stared up and swallowed. A blanket of stars stretched out behind Mochou’s head, and his indigo-purple eyes almost glowed in the moonlight.
“Hey, Xiao?” he whispered.
“Yes?”
“I still love you,” Mochou said.
Xiao watched as his lips made the shapes of each syllable. He wanted that in particular safely stowed away for remembering once Mochou was gone.
“I still love you too,” Xiao said.
To be honest, he mouthed the words more than he actually said them. They were still unsure on his tongue as he had never said them for anyone but Mochou before.
But it was enough and Xiao read the understanding and relief in Mochou’s eyes. One of Mochou’s hands slipped into Xiao’s hair and he felt like he was falling, but unlike all the other times the feeling had assaulted him, this time it felt like a gentle caress into a bed.
Mochou slowly leaned down, and when they kissed, Mochou’s lips were ice-cold.
When he pulled away, Mochou’s face was completely imperceptible. Was he feeling morose? Confused? Happy? Maybe the kiss hadn’t been satisfying.
But it had been everything to Xiao and he had to let Mochou know this. He reached for the hand in his hair and squeezed, letting his smile do the talking that he was too tired for.
Mochou sighed and, having apparently gotten the answer he wanted, squeezed his hand back.
Notes:
Thank you for reading, as always!!!
Next week, we'll be entering the second half of part 1! (I don't have those split up aside from a thematic change. Goodbye, Xiao POV! At least for a brief while 💚)
Chapter 6: Shrouded Past and Future Pt. I
Summary:
Mochou says goodbye to Xiao and hello to some new people in Sumeru.
Notes:
Heloo!! This chapter and the next have some canon voice lines folded in. There's also a longer comment at the end explaining a little my thought process with the "canon divergent" part of this fic if it's a little confusing.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Mochou had never had to say goodbye to someone important to him before and it didn't seem like Xiao had much experience, either.
The mood over the breakfast table was lackluster. Both of them were so weighed down by the impending goodbye that it was impossible to enjoy the other’s company normally anymore.
Xiao didn’t say it, but sleeping on the roof must have also done a small number on his body. As impressive as the fireworks had been, Mochou hoped that they hadn’t made the karmic debt any worse given how loud and flashy they had been. He knew that Xiao didn’t like when Mochou worried about such things, and even if Mochou asked, he wasn’t sure Xiao would have given him a full answer about it.
On the bright side, Mochou had gotten everything he had wanted off his chest last night. He had even learned more about the yakshas, which he’d been yearning for answers about ever since he discovered that book on them in the Wanwen Bookhouse.
Once their breakfast bowls had been emptied, Xiao set his spoon down and said, “Let’s not stretch out goodbyes.”
Mochou nodded and stood from his seat.
Xiao walked him back around to the entrance so Mochou could say his goodbyes to Verr Goldet. Huai'an was with her; Mochou guessed that he had heard about Mochou’s resignation and wanted to be there when Mochou came to say goodbye.
“Good morning, Boss Verr Goldet,” Mochou said.
Boss laughed at the name. “You don’t have to keep calling me that, you know.” Then her lips slid into a frown. “So, you’re really leaving, huh?”
“Going straight to Sumeru as soon as we’re done talking.”
“Stay safe on your journey.”
“I will,” he said.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you,” Huai'an said. “Make sure to write.”
“I don’t think I’ll be gone that long,” Mochou said. “I’ll probably be back before you know it.”
“You should get moving,” Xiao said.
Mochou turned to him and smiled. “Okay.”
He gave a final wave to the innkeepers then followed Xiao down the trail that led toward Liyue Harbor.
“I trust you know the way?” Xiao asked.
“I have a map,” Mochou said, pulling it from where he had stuck it in his obi.
Xiao nodded. “Good.”
Silence.
Mochou sucked in a breath, an old habit that he’d picked up from his human-mimicking, and reached for Xiao’s hands.
They were smaller in his than he had expected though just as callous as always. Mochou thought it funny how tall Xiao felt to him even though Xiao was actually a little shorter. That was a trick played by Mochou’s mind that manifested because Xiao was the largest person in the world to him.
“Don’t miss me too much,” Mochou said.
“I won’t,” Xiao said.
“Okay.”
“Stay safe.”
“I will.”
“I made you an amulet to stave off evil,” Xiao said.
He stretched out an arm and opened his hand to reveal a bright red intricately tied knot with a long tassel trailing after it. Mochou picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend where Xiao had figured out how to make something like this.
“Thank you, I’ll treasure it always,” Mochou said, pinning it to the cloth that hung over his chest. The red was bright against the rest of his body but he liked it that way. It made for a good artificial heart.
Just as they had last night, Xiao’s cheeks dusted with color. His skin was so pale and the purple blush so bright that Mochou couldn’t help but grin at it. No matter how hard Xiao tried to conceal it, his true feelings always found a way to the surface.
“I think this is where the lovers are supposed to kiss in fairy tales,” Mochou whispered.
Xiao’s eyes popped open, drawing attention to his gold irises, as he blurted out, “We’re lovers?”
“We kissed last night, didn’t we?” Mochou asked.
Oh no. Was this uncomfortable? Had he broken proper conduct? Mochou had worried that he’d acted out of line last night, too, but had been depending on it just being Xiao’s usual awkwardness.
“Yes…”
There was a yearning in Xiao’s eyes that made Mochou fake-sigh with genuine relief. Then he laughed because Xiao looked worried.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have waited until the last moment to say that,” Mochou said. “I’m sorry.”
He was sorry that there wouldn’t be enough time for them to explore it further. At least, not right now. But maybe if the trip to Sumeru went well, Mochou would be back in just a few weeks.
“Do not be sorry,” Xiao said. “I like the word. I think it suits us.”
Mohcou smiled. “Good. I think it does, too.”
This time, Xiao took the initiative and leaned forward first to press a kiss to Mochou’s lips. The touch was soft and much warmer than it had been last night.
When Xiao pulled away, he was smiling. Actually, it was a grin, or close enough to it by Xiao standards, exposing his teeth with his eyes pushed up until they were squinting.
“I’ll see you soon, Mochou.”
“Goodbye, Xiao.”
Mochou wrapped Xiao in a tight hug, his hands curled into the fabric of his back before he let go and stepped away.
He didn’t have any more words to say and Xiao didn’t, either.
It hurt looking at Xiao standing there all alone, just like he had been when Mochou first met him, though the look in his eyes had changed substantially.
Mochou lifted his hand in a wave, reached to pull the hat lower over his head, and turned around to set off down the path toward Liyue Harbor.
Sumeru was nothing like Wangshu Inn.
It was noisy, complicated, and lonely. Completely paradoxical. Mochou never would have thought to equate such a populated place with the strong feeling of solitude he felt as soon as he arrived.
He clearly didn’t fit in here, even less than he had at Wangshu Inn, where at least Xiao had been an anchor for him to hold onto.
But here, there was nothing.
A traveling merchant helped Mochou get into the city, so as thanks, Mochou offered to work for him. The same trick had paid off well with Verr Goldet, as having a job gave him some feeling that he was being productive, and in this case, it would give him opportunities to speak to more humans who might know something about Buer.
But the merchant looked uncomfortable by Mochou’s offer and Mochou was feeling impatient enough to dismiss the offer once he realized that it wasn’t going to work out between them.
His role here was not to bring humans discomfort and there was a whole rest of the city to explore.
Just like with Liyue Harbor, Mochou’s first day at Sumeru left something to be desired. Unlike with Rex Lapis, Buer was indeed still alive, but every person Mochou spoke to about her told him she was too busy to spend time talking to some nobody like him.
Once the day had ended with his hands still empty, he picked out a place outside the city where he could sleep under the stars. Mochou found a tree to lie underneath and put his arms behind his head as he stared up at the starry night.
He had seen other humans do this before; surely, this would at least prevent others from worrying that he had breathed his last while asleep.
Was Xiao seeing the same stars, he wondered? Xiao must fight under them all the time, but did he ever stop to look up? Or was he not interested in “wasting his time” on things like that?
Mochou scoffed. Yes, that sounded like something Xiao might say.
Footfalls in the grass drew Mochou’s eyes to the side. He saw a pair of boots in front of him that belonged to a blond-haired person with a serious look on their face. They had brought some sort of floating creature with them who crossed her arms at the sight of Mochou.
“Hello there,” Mochou said. He sat up in the grass, which brushed against him. “Can I help you with something?”
The stranger didn’t say anything and Mochou’s eyebrows drew up with worry.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Do you know me?”
“Yes,” they said.
“You do?” Mochou asked, excitement seeping into the pitch of his voice.
He’d been hoping for a lead like this! But before Mochou could get carried away, he remembered the warnings Xiao had given him.
“From where?” Mochou asked. “Show me some sort of evidence.”
“You’re a puppet,” they said.
Mochou’s eyes widened. “So you do know me. Where have we met before? Do you know anything about my past or why—”
He cut himself off before he could continue, remembering to keep at least one card held close. He still knew nothing about this person; it would be foolish of him to put his trust in someone simply because they were able to partially prove they knew his identity.
“I’m sorry. I got ahead of myself. My name is Mochou,” he said. “What is yours?”
“Their name is Traveler and mine is Paimon,” the floating creature beside the traveler’s shoulder said.
“I do know you from the past,” Traveler continued. “But it’s a complicated situation, so it might not all make sense right away. There’s someone I need to take you to meet.”
Mochou shuffled out of his sitting position and onto his feet, dusting the grass from his shorts.
“If it is who I think it is, then I’ve already been searching for her myself, actually,” Mochou said.
“You already know who we were gonna introduce you to?” Paimon asked. “How is that possible?”
“It’s a bit of a long story, but once we meet with her I can explain further,” Mochou said.
He found the irony in that statement, considering Traveler had just said a similar thing to him themselves.
“Then what are we waiting for?” Paimon asked. “Let’s not keep Nahida waiting!”
The weight of Mochou’s decision to come to Sumeru finally started to hit him when he entered Buer’s sanctum.
Varying shades of glowing jade coated everything. Vines carved from stone crawled up every column and stretched toward the ceiling. Petals studded the railings and the table in the center, the flower imagery speckled all over the architecture.
The ceiling was so high up that Mochou could barely see it, and even then, he doubted the stained-glass sunroof allowed much natural light in.
He felt like an ant inside a giant’s house. A far cry from the comfort of a wooden table and some baijiu or even the flute-playing archon that Xiao had told him about.
But Mohcou steeled himself as they entered the room and walked across the passageway toward a person whose back faced them in the center. They were much smaller than Mochou had been anticipating. But he wouldn’t let appearances fool him.
“Nahida!” Paimon squealed.
“What is it?” The person asked as they turned around.
She had giant, dazzling green eyes and a gentle voice, though that alone wouldn’t be enough to settle Mochou’s nerves.
“I am very glad to make your acquaintance,” Mochou said, placing his hand over his chest where Xiao’s amulet hung. “My name is Mochou and I have very important business to discuss with you concerning my memories. Rex Lapis suggested I seek your help with that matter.”
“Woah, hold on! Rex Lapis?” Paimon repeated. “How do you know him?”
“It would seem that you have met some notable people during your journey,” Nahida said. “I take it that is also where you got your name? It’s from Liyue, correct? To mean ‘free of sadness or worry.’”
“That’s right,” Mochou said. “Someone very important gave it to me.”
“Someone important to you? Who could that be?” Paimon asked.
Mochou looked over at her, willing her to stop prying.
“My name isn’t why I came to speak to you today,” he said. “I was wondering if you could help me with my past.”
“I wouldn’t call it the ‘past,’ but… Uh, this is difficult to explain,” Nahida said. “I don’t like to rely on terms like this often, but in your case it seems that it ought to be called a ‘previous incarnation.’”
Mochou’s eyes widened. “What was my previous incarnation like?” he amended.
It was the one question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue as soon as he got the first inkling that such a thing might exist.
Nobody answered him. Nahida made a thoughtful hum and Traveler’s eyebrows drew up with concern. The silence was worse than any words could have been.
Mohcou frowned. He hadn’t prepared himself for such a negative reception but he could still work with it.
“I take that to mean ‘not good,’” Mochou said. “Go ahead and be honest with me. I can handle the truth.”
He’d been preparing himself for it the whole trip here; he wasn’t going to be dissuaded just because they looked a little unhappy.
“Are you sure?” Nahida asked. “Is truth something you care a lot about?”
“Yes,” Mochou said. “I came all the way here to hear it. So, please. Don’t withhold information just to spare my feelings.”
“Then I’ll be straight with you. In your previous incarnation, you did many things that would be considered evil.”
The response inside Mochou was resounding. The nerves that had been tingling with suspense and anticipation vanished, replaced with silence. Mochou’s lips straightened into a strong, thin line.
“You nearly died because of what other people did. And many people died because of you. As a non-human being, you hated gods and humans alike.”
Hated gods and humans? Did that mean people like Verr Goldet and Zhongli? And he’d— he’d killed people? Not demons, but humans? Like the ones Xiao protected?
“You drifted from place to place, never able to settle, even where you found status and identity. You adamantly believed you were missing a heart.”
So, his past incarnation had run into the same listless feelings he was experiencing now. And even the “home” he found wasn’t enough to satisfy him.
“In the end, your plans of achieving godhood were foiled and it was revealed that you had been manipulated. The loved one you so hated had actually fought for you until the bitter end,” Nahida said. “Unable to live with an existence built upon lies, you decided to erase yourself by entering Irminsul. You thought that would be the best way to make up for the harm you had brought to those you hurt, but aside from your own record, the rest of the world’s has largely been unchanged.
“Actions rooted in persistence sometimes bear bitter fruit. Sometimes, you have to let parts of yourself go or you’ll never be happy,” Nahida finished.
“Did my previous incarnation really think that erasing himself from Irminsul was the only way he could find that happiness?” Mochou asked.
“Sometimes, death is a blessing.”
Mochou thought he was going to be sick. Now was not the time for him to be reminded of Xiao’s words.
“You know, you were a real pain in our butts,” Paimon said. “And now look at you! Practically getting away from it all scot-free!”
That sent Mochou’s stomach churning all over again. Why did he feel remorse for actions he wasn’t even responsible for? It wasn’t his fault that his past self had decided to resolve things this way.
“I think I need some time to think about all of this,” he said.
“Good idea,” Nahida said. “Some of these memories would inflict great mental anguish. It’s important that you process everything fully before coming to a decision. I can set you up with a room down the hall and we can talk more in the morning.”
“I have just one more question, though,” Mochou said.
“Yes?”
“If I do this, will the friends I’ve made remember me?”
“Those from your former incarnation will not, as that instance of yourself was erased from Irminsul. But the people from this one will,” Nahida said. “This record is going to continue, and Mochou’s memories will remain.”
“Okay,” Mochou said. “I understand.”
“Are you sure you don’t have any more questions?”
“I’m not sure,” Mochou said. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
His eyes flickered back over to Traveler and Paimon. Paimon was clearly frustrated at him — frustrated and still holding a grudge against him for past transgressions he didn’t remember.
Traveler was harder to read. When Mochou first laid eyes on them, he’d thought they were going to be his friend. But now he saw an edge in their expression that must have been there the whole time; he had just been too ignorant to notice it.
Mohcou wanted some distance away from them. Maybe if he had a chance to talk with Nahida in private, he could ask a few of the harder questions. Maybe she wouldn’t judge him too harshly over the thoughts churning in his mind.
“Come, Mochou. I will show you to your room,” Nahida said.
“Wait a second! We should come with you!” Paimon said.
Nahida shook her head. “That’s alright, I can show him the way myself.”
Paimon and even Traveler had protests readied but Nahida was already pushing past them on the walkway. Not one to be left behind, Mochou fell into step behind her.
Nahida led Mochou from the night air and into a guesthouse close to her sanctuary. It had only a bed, table, and a potted plant.
Mochou had grown so used to the rich, deep brown maple-wood furniture back in Liyue that it hadn’t occurred to him that things could come in different materials, like the lighter-toned softwood of the bed frame at his knees.
He stared at the bed for a second, just processing how he was meant to rest anywhere that wasn’t his old room, when Nahida asked, “Is everything alright?”
“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” Mochou said.
He clearly hadn’t done a good enough job of concealing his true emotions. Nahida closed the door behind her and approached the table, running her fingers over its edge.
“What are you thinking about?”
Mochou studied her for a second.
He could lie. He could tell her that he was just tired and overwhelmed by the choice in front of him.
But he could also be honest and admit that he’d already made up his mind. That the moment they failed to answer the question of what his past life had been like, he was too invested to let that past go.
“For a long time, I was a wanderer. A puppet with no roots. And even now that I’ve achieved happiness, I’m still not satisfied,” Mochou said. “A book with a worn-out cover and a broken spine is just a book that’s well-loved. It’s gone through many hands, some gentle, some rough, but along the way, it grew in character. I want to read that book. Even if it’s sad or not well-liked, it deserves to be heard and understood.”
“If we go by that analogy and apply it to your current life, I suppose that book would have fewer words and more blank pages,” Nahida said. “But that is not necessarily a bad thing. You still have a chance to define your life in much happier terms than your past incarnation.”
Mochou shook his head. “Yes, but the story as it is now is incomplete. I have a responsibility to myself to amend the record and take accountability for the events recorded in its pages. And…”
He hesitated, then said, “I think my past incarnation deserves to see how far we’ve come. He deserves to feel the happiness and love that he’d wanted for so many years. Even if it won’t technically be ‘him’ experiencing those feelings anymore, whoever I become at the end of it will be someone who has the experience of both pasts.”
“That is true,” Nahida said. “But remember, the inverse is also true. That evil past — all the killing, betrayal, and pain he experienced — will come with it. You will never be able to return to who you were before.”
The words Mochou had once told himself resonated inside of him again.
I don’t want to become someone else if it’s not someone who loves Xiao.
“Do you think my past incarnation was capable of love?” Mochou asked.
“Yes.”
Mochou nodded. “I see.”
He loved Xiao. And even if his past incarnation hadn’t, he knew this love would be strong enough to persevere throughout whatever hardships his past had experienced. Because if there was one thing Mochou could bring to his past incarnation, it was that love and happiness he had felt.
This concept of wanting a heart was not new to him either, although unlike his past self, he had never really known how to pursue it. He felt lucky that it had fallen into his lap in the form of Xiao, and that Mochou had enough sense to know that.
He’d spent a lot of time wondering if he could love and if he did have human emotions. But now there was no questioning. Of course he did. Even his past incarnation had figured that out even if it was in the form of anger.
“I think I want my memories back,” Mochou said.
“Even after everything I’ve told you?” Nahida asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I need to see what I did with my own two eyes.”
“Okay,” Nahida said. She sighed and reached out, touching Mochou’s hand. Hers was so tiny and delicate, but still warm next to his. “You are a good person, Mochou. Don’t let this next reincarnation become clouded with the same hatred you had in the past. I have faith that you can forge a better path for your future self.”
“I believe that, too,” Mochou said. He squeezed her hand in his then let go. “I’m not afraid. If anything, I’m a little curious. I’ve never felt pain before. This is sure to get interesting.”
Nahida laughed weakly and Mochou frowned. Agh, he shouldn’t have said that.
“That’s one way of putting things,” she said. “I think it’s lovely that you’re always looking on the bright side of things. I hope that you can still continue to do that even after tomorrow.”
That night, Mochou didn’t sleep at all. His mind was restless, attempting to calculate every possible thing that could happen tomorrow. Preparing for the worst, hoping for the best. Convincing himself over and over again that he was doing the right thing.
In the end, though, he knew nothing would prepare him for what awaited him. The best thing he could do was hope that fate was on his side.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
The idea for this fic first spawned as the question, "I wonder what Wanderer's life was like after he had erased himself from Irminsul but BEFORE Traveler found him at the market again?"
Chapters 1-5 were my attempt at showing what Wanderer's life might have become had he wandered around as an amnesiac and fallen in love but still had that hole in his memory that he wanted to fill. Perhaps that's obvious and this A/N is redundant, but I still wanted to point it out.
So, we're coming up on some scenes that are going to feel quite familiar— and that's definitely intentional! I'm excited to show it all to you! 😄 Again, it might feel a little redundant, but it's still important and I tried to add in some extra pieces to make it feel fresh and not copy-pasted from the game.
Chapter 7: Shrouded Past and Future Pt. II
Summary:
Mochou gets his memories back.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning, Mochou returned to the Sanctuary of Surasthana and met with Nahida. The traveler and Paimon hadn’t yet arrived, leaving him to approach her alone.
“How did you sleep?” Nahida asked.
“I didn’t,” Mochou said.
He stood off to the side as she typed on a screen built of light that floated just in front of her.
“That is understandable,” Nahida said.
Nahida paused her typing, studying Mochou with her mouth slightly parted as if she were just about to say something, but ultimately kept the comments to herself.
When Traveler and Paimon arrived, Nahida began explaining how everything was going to work.
“Last night, you said that you wanted to see your past memories,” Nahida said. “This can be done. But I would like Traveler to go with you to supervise you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Mochou said. “Whatever awaits me, I can handle it myself.”
“We are the ones who brought you here though,” Paimon said. “And given your… unique situation, it’s probably best that we go with you to keep an eye on you.”
“Exactly,” Traveler said.
“Understood,” Mochou said. That made sense; his past incarnation was evil, and trust wasn’t something he could build overnight between them, so they didn’t want to risk him doing anything dangerous while in the memories on his own.
“Then everyone, prepare yourselves. I am going to create a dream using information extracted from Mochou’s memories. You might want to sit down for this,” she said with a little twist of her lips.
Traveler sat down and folded their legs. Mochou followed their lead and sat down across from them.
“Close your eyes,” Nahida said.
Mochou obeyed and closed his eyes.
When Mochou opened his eyes again, he was standing in a room with a giant tree consuming the corner, its roots traveling underneath the floorboards and through the screen door to the adjacent hallway.
It was morning and the sun filtered into the room with a red tint to it that stained everything as if it had been dipped in blood.
Mochou registered that Traveler and Paimon were at his side as Nahida’s voice floated into his ear.
This is Shakkei Pavilion, her voice said. You first woke up here.
Something stirred in the center of the room and Mochou identified the movement as belonging to himself.
It was shocking how little Mochou recognized his own face. It was so clear, so empty. Vacant eyes stared right through him as the puppet acknowledged its own existence for the first time.
The puppet pushed himself onto wobbly feet and looked around the empty room. He had long, silken strands of hair down to his hips; Mochou had never had long hair before. When had it been cut?
The puppet’s eyes fell to the golden ornament of a feather at his feet. He picked it up, the red and purple threads dangling from his hands.
He hung it from his neck and began walking through the pavilion in search of life.
Nahida cut away from the rest of the scene and, before Mochou could even blink, displayed a new one in its place.
The nameless puppet stood on a beach, sand sifting between his toes as rain and wind whipped at his long hair. He wore a purple veil that tangled with the strands, sometimes obscuring his face completely.
The scene cut again, to the puppet holding a blacksmithing hammer above his head, the long, flowing sleeves of his white kimono pulled back with lavender-colored tasuki. His eyebrows drew down in careful concentration, his eyes fixed on the man at his shoulder whose gentle eyes summoned a smile from the kabukimono’s lips.
Next, Mochou saw drummers, swords, and dancing. Mochou saw moments of the kabukimono cutting his hair, drinking tea, and getting dressed. He saw how the kabukimono’s whole face curved up into a smile that made his hair look a whole shade lighter simply because the world felt brighter when he was happy.
None of what Nahida had shown him yet left a bad aftertaste in Mochou’s mouth. But that was before the next scene, where the kabukimono stood stripped down to an ash-coated juban. He was holding something in his two palms, which were extended to a man standing in front of him.
The man said something and tears welled in the kabukimono’s eyes. He threw the blackened object down on the ground and ran away.
After such a bleak scene, it was jarring to snap to a field of grass where the kabukimono lay down flat on his back, a small child’s hands in his. Just a little distance away, dolls made in their images rested against the trunk of a cherry blossom tree. Hands pointed up at the sky and the kabukimono laughed again.
Sakura petals fell and the scene began to shift as if the world were tilting sideways. Mochou rubbed his eyes, confused, when suddenly the grass was gone, replaced with hardwood floors. The kabukimono knelt at the small boy’s side, but he wasn’t moving, lying in a grave of cherry blossom petals.
The kabukimono was crying again and Mochou almost couldn’t bear to look. He wanted to console the nameless puppet and tell him that everything was going to be okay. He wanted to hold him, to stroke the back of his head and rock him in his arms.
The kabukimono began to scream. He threw his head back, revealing a face screwed up in agony and grief, his lips quivering before opening into a splintering howl.
More images came, like flashes of lightning in a thunderous sky. The kabukimono’s porcelain face flickered with heat as a fire blazed around him. The kabukimono knelt with his hands wrapped around a man’s neck, both of them sprawled on the floor of a cluttered tatami mat. The kabukimono bent over a table, his fingers stained with ink as he made deliberate strokes on parchment. And then he stood, perfectly composed, as he slid the parchment away into its shelf again.
If Mochou had a heart, it would be racing. He’d tasted blood for the first time now and there would be no turning back.
The rest of the scenes seemed to reflect that well. Kabukimono had become Kunikuzushi, whose smiles were no longer soft but sharp and barbed like a poisoned needle. He wore black and red. His hands were always closed around something, whether it be a throat or his arms when they were crossed, as if revealing an open palm would make him too vulnerable.
The next scene materialized slower than the others. One second Kunikuzushi was marching through a snowstorm, a large, puffy coat pulled close, and the next, Mochou’s ears rang from the resounding silence of a large room.
The room had tall windows. White light filtered in from outside, casting everything in faded grays, including an operating table and a rolling table with a tray of scalpels and other operation equipment. Scaramouche lay on the table with his arms at his sides, nude, revealing the flawless artificial skin and circular markings stamped onto his chest. He looked bored aside from the tightly curled hands at his sides.
A masked man in a coat down to his knees entered and approached the table, his footsteps clacking on linoleum. He reached for a blade on the operating table and learned over Scaramouche.
His hair sparked, electric-blue, in the winter gray.
Mochou couldn’t see what the doctor was doing but he didn’t want to know. Not when he heard the pealing screams that erupted from that table. He didn’t even know he could make such sounds — they belonged to an animal that was having its leg sawed off.
Is this what Xiao had meant when he spoke about his karmic pain? Was it anything like the sound of Scaramouche’s legs thrashing against the metal of that table as the doctor shouted at him to stay still, or the wail that felt like it had lasted an eternity only to be ended abruptly by a thundering smack?
Scaramouche whimpered, the doctor castigated him for crying, and Mochou watched Scaramouche’s hands form claws gripping the edge of the table.
Mochou couldn’t take it anymore. The emotional discomfort had been one thing but he couldn’t hear another one of his screams.
“Stop,” Mochou said. “Please, make it stop.”
The scene rippled and then disappeared like someone sweeping their hand through a basin of water. Mochou still heard the echoes of his own crying when he looked at the traveler standing across from him.
Nahida had brought them somewhere new. It was a giant room with a domed ceiling that let only the faintest glimmers of sunlight in, which reflected off the cold tiled floral pattern on the floor. Traveler and Paimon stood a little distance away but Nahida was still nothing but a voice in their heads.
What you just witnessed was Il Dottore’s first experiment on you when you became the sixth Fatui Harbinger, Nahida said. There would be countless other experiments over the years, although you would quickly grow to tolerate the pain.
A sickening shutter ran down Mochou’s back. You adapt, Xiao had once said. You learn to forge forward even when circumstances feel their bleakest.
“Why would I ever agree to do that?” Mochou asked.
You wanted godhood and the Doctor promised it so long as you could be the subject of his experiments. By human standards, they would be considered life-ending. But because you are a puppet, you served as a resilient life form for the doctor to perform his science on.
“I… see.”
“Hey, are you okay?” Paimon asked. She hovered just above Traveler’s shoulder, worrying her hands together. “We don’t have to keep going.”
Paimon’s right. Are you certain you want to see more? Nahida asked.
“I have a question,” Mochou said.
He paused, lifting his head toward the recessed ceiling. He stared into the pale white light. “Do you think I’m evil?”
If you accept that he is you, just as you are you, then yes, you are evil.
“Do you think there are any differences between humans and puppets?”
I believe you should not define a being merely by its biology. If a creature has the capacity for human emotion, then I believe it is human.
Whoever has tasted the joys and sorrows of life in the human realm is human. Whoever has loved and lost, cried with grief, howled with rage at the tragedy of death that eclipses the miracle of life. They are human, too.
So, it was as Mochou thought. He was human. And he had been human for a long time.
“I don’t need to see the other memories,” he said. “I can’t run from blame or punishment any longer. It’s time that I answered for my atrocities the right way and reclaimed my sins.”
“But if you do that, won’t you lose your current identity?” Paimon asked. “You looked so much better before all of this. Even happy. But if you do this, then…”
“I will become a different person,” Mochou said. “But a person is a collection of their past experiences. And all of mine belong in one place.”
Regaining your memories means all the past emotions you had discarded will return to you. Your previous incarnation and your current self are going to resolve themselves into a new person inside the same body, Nahida said. It will likely cause great discomfort and inner conflict as you attempt to reconcile the emotions and memories of two incarnations together.
Even knowing that, are you sure you still want to do this?
“Yes, I am sure,” Mochou said. “For a long time, I wandered around Teyvat feeling like I never belonged anywhere. But then, one day, I met someone who changed the trajectory of my life forever. He taught me how important it is to stay true to your core beliefs. How obligation or duty can drive you to do the right thing and guide you down the proper path.
“But even more than all of that, he taught me compassion. He has shown me how it’s not the things you can see, but the intangible thoughts and feelings that make life worth living.”
“It sounds like you care a lot about this guy,” Paimon said. “How do you think he’s gonna react when he sees you again after you’ve changed so much?”
“I don’t know,” Mochou said. “But I can’t leave things the way they are. I need to become my true self again and hold myself accountable to my actions. I can only hope that he will understand that. I hope this will even help me to understand him better.”
Very well, Nahida said. With that said, I will return to you that which is yours.
A green cube glittering with Nahida’s trademark power materialized just a few feet above Mochou’s head. He removed his hat and lifted his eyes up to it, sucking in another unnecessary breath as it gradually floated down toward him.
You’ve made your decision, Nahida’s voice said. Now, take this.
The cube unfurled itself, revealing the delicate core of memories inside. Magical flowers and leaves sparked from it and it tinkled, the noise happy and delicate. Mochou expected it to bring that same warmth to him when it touched him.
But, instead of bringing warmth, when he finally reached out and the memories flitted around to pierce his chest, it felt like he’d been stabbed with a branding iron.
The magic became a venom that coursed through every crevice of his body, leaving a searing hot pain behind. A voice — his voice — rang in his ears as the fingers of magic dug deep into his nerves and lit each one on fire, wringing them dry like a sewist trying to snap a piece of thread.
He saw images of people he didn’t recognize and people he did, each one weighed with emotions he couldn’t begin to comprehend.
A single voice rose out of them, laced with a hatred that dragged Mochou down to his knees.
I fucking hate you. From the second you were created, you’ve been nothing but a waste of space. It’s lucky that fate would not necessitate breathing in order for you to survive, otherwise I would have snuffed you out a long time ago. Drowned you at Nazuchi Beach like diseased vermin tossed off a ship.
“This is… my…” Mochou panted.
Was he saying those things to himself?
You were supposed to be my family forever! How dare you break your promise to me! Where am I supposed to go now? Who is supposed to love me?
The secondhand grief Mochou had witnessed earlier hit him full-force, forcing tears to his eyes. It was insurmountable relief and pain and fear all at once.
The Balladeer was in his ears, inside his head, filling it with thoughts and feelings and so many memories it was staggering. The ground shook and at first Mochou mistook that as just his hands, which gripped the sides of his face hard enough to pull hairs from his scalp.
He’d been staring into the ground, his eyes unfocused, but managed to land his shaking, blurred eyesight on the foreground long enough to see the traveler posed with a sword drawn. He saw a giant mechanical god rising up from out of the ground, sending a pang of pain through Mochou once more.
He tasted electricity on his tongue and another shockwave of fear coursing through him.
Mochou had to move. But he could barely think of anything but pain.
Focus. He had to focus.
Discard all distractions. Focus on your breathing and the weight of your body on the floor.
Mochou drew in a long, shaky breath as the Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom and the traveler fought. The ground shook, Mochou’s head pulsed, and the searing-hot pain that had lit his nerves on fire settled to something slightly more manageable. Now, it felt like someone dragging their fingernails across the inside of his skin.
Chunks of ice exploded at Mochou’s knees and he felt the sharp cold wind that blew through his fingers.
He didn’t feel scared anymore, though. Mostly, he felt annoyed.
This is so ridiculous.
Mochou focused on the feeling of air traveling through his throat and down into his chest where his lungs would be. He focused on the inconsistent pattern, shaky as it was, and slowly pulled his hands away from his face to stare at his fingers.
“Hey! Are you done yet?” Paimon’s shrill voice shouted.
No. It didn’t feel like he would ever be “done.” A sharp thought sprang to the forefront of his mind: Shut up, insolent fairy. How dare you talk down to me.
Mochou swallowed again. Think good thoughts. Think of Xiao.
He imagined Xiao’s patient smile. He imagined the sound of his laughter, the tattoo on his bicep, and the first time they’d met, when Mochou watched Xiao slash right through a hilichurl without even blinking.
Though the thoughts were fleeting, they were enough to end the shaking in his hands.
He opened his eyes again just as the searing bright light of an electro-powered laser swallowed his consciousness.
It felt like Il Dottore had come by once more with his scalpel and peeled Mochou’s skin back, exposing his core. He could see his past, his present, and his future. The real world had fallen away, replaced by a void occupied by a single crystal of light.
They were memories. His memories. Pulsing with pain and joy and freedom after ages of yearning.
The Balladeer inside of him hated them. Love, human emotion, mercy were beyond him. He’d long ago convinced himself of that.
All worthless dross… will be purged!
Scaramouche’s— his— hand desperately stretched toward that light as his voice cracked and splintered like his mind.
That’s why… this won’t be the end!
The light materialized into a hand reaching out, reaching for him. He grabbed ahold of its wrist, dragging himself closer, when he felt a weight pulling him down. He looked, and there, hanging from his other arm, was the Balladeer.
His eyes held the universe. Of truth. Of hatred, yearning, and a love long lost. The longer Mochou stared, the more he felt like he was coming home. He could finally embrace the person he hadn’t ever met but had missed every day that they were apart.
Inside his mind, the thoughts and emotions that raged like an anger-stained cyclone settled. Mochou found its eye, the fragile and quiet center where he could enter his kingdom and settle back onto an old throne.
Two people merged into one with a patronizing tongue and a habit of indulging in interesting stories. He liked bitter tea, walking in the rain, and crushing lesser life forms under the soles of his geta.
He saw himself in a field of flowers with a little boy who had no name. He also saw himself swinging his hammer with Niwa on his shoulder and sitting on the roof of Wangshu Inn watching how Xiao’s face flickered a billion different colors under the night sky.
When Mochou regained consciousness, a bright, skin-searing jet of electro energy was carving a path toward him. He forced himself to his feet and darted out of the way.
His body felt as light as a feather, like someone was grabbing him from under his armpits and lifting him into the sky. He landed on his feet a fair distance away from the floor that crumbled and crackled before exploding in all-consuming flames.
The room filled with smoke. Mochou tipped his hat downward, concealing his eyes, as he felt his soul surge with energy. He sensed the vision just within his reach without even lifting his eyes up to it — it was his, and he would not let it out of his grasp now.
Katsuragi. Niwa. The nameless child. Xiao. Mochou would not let all of their love and kindness be for naught.
Before Mochou even knew what had overcome him, tears had spilled down his cheeks again. He hastily wiped them away and reached with a grasping hand for his vision.
He looked down, gazing into the insignia of green-blue anemo that glowed inside the glassy surface. His hand curled tightly around it and a surge of excitement and rage and freedom pulsed through him.
Mochou slowly lifted his eyes to the false god at the other end of the room. Suddenly, he was feeling a little bloodthirsty.
“Die,” he spat, his lips stretching into a wide grin.
Mochou slid the vision into the space beneath Xiao’s amulet then darted forward, already summoning his newfound power to force a blast of anemo toward the center of the false god’s glass core. It exploded into a neon ray of black and blue energy that drew brief rifts into the fabric of their world.
It felt good. It felt right.
Traveler joined Mochou at his side and Mochou shared a brief grin with them.
“Have you got your memories back?” Paimon asked on his other shoulder.
He suppressed a roll of his eyes. “What do you think?” he asked.
The false god threw down a fist clenching a ball of pure pyro, which erupted when it hit the ground. Mochou summoned his anemo energy and sprang into the sky, dodging the attack easily.
Traveler spared only a glance in his direction, exposing their wide-eyed shock, before returning their focus to the fray.
Between the two of them, this fight would be a piece of cake.
Traveler was fast on their feet and extremely skilled with a sword. Mochou could learn a thing or two from the way they hopped around the battlefield, a clear testament to the number of times they’d had to execute this same battle over and over.
Mochou used his new powers to his advantage, relentless in the gashes he struck across the false god’s core, hovering always just out of reach of its four lumbering arms. He loved his vision. He loved his new powers. And he was not afraid to abuse them.
When Mochou finally delivered the final blow, he gritted his teeth and flung a searing orb of anemo power in the mechanical creature’s face. The false god stalled, the joints sparking with electro, before dematerializing into nothing but a few remaining flickers of energy.
“Finally out of my way,” Mochou scowled.
“You do know you’re talking about yourself, right?” Paimon asked.
“And?” Mochou asked.
He crossed his arms and turned toward Paimon and Traveler. Traveler took one or two deeper breaths but didn’t look too worn-out after the fight, and definitely didn’t look as frustrated as Mochou had expected after seeing him return in all his tainted glory.
Paimon sighed, setting her hands on her hips. “There’s that tone of voice again. You’re definitely back to your old self.”
“How do you feel?” Traveler asked.
Mochou’s eyes fell on them and he laughed. “What, worried? There’s hardly anything to be worried about.”
“That’s what you think!” Paimon said. “But we just went through a whole lot of trouble for you, so you better be grateful!”
“Oh, I definitely am,” Mochou said. He turned back to Traveler. “Thank you for all of your help. Even if I didn’t change as much of history as I had hoped, at least now I know the truth. And that, arguably, is what matters.”
The memory recovery has been a success. This dream has served its purpose. Let us reconvene, Nahida’s voice said.
When they returned to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, Mochou felt like he’d shed a thick outer coat, finally allowing the breeze to kiss his skin. He could feel the weather now. He could feel all of his emotions. He had felt pain. And this made him unbelievably, unreasonably happy.
But he also felt annoyed, and tired, and so, so emotionally spent. The nerves that had once been set ablaze were now singed and in desperate need of some patching up.
He needed silence. Not Paimon’s high-pitched voice in his ear expressing the same sentiment about feeling exhausted after their long journey.
Mochou wasn’t even particularly resentful about the fact that she had done nothing but float the whole time. He was more annoyed that she couldn’t see that his ears were essentially bleeding from her noise.
He was standing in a semicircle with Traveler, Nahida, and Paimon, listening to them exchange brief pleasantries after their little trip through his memories, when a voice finally pulled Mochou from his thoughts.
“What about you, Mochou? How do you feel?” Nahida asked. “Or is ‘Balladeer’ a more appropriate name?”
Mochou shook his head. “No. I would prefer not to be referred to by either of them, actually.”
“Why not?” Paimon asked.
“I severed my connection to the Fatui the second I stepped into Irminsul. It’s unlikely any of them will remember who the sixth is, and I am not interested in joining them again. Besides that, I don’t want to keep a name connected to the Doctor.”
“So what about the other name?” Paimon asked.
Mochou shook his head. “That’s…”
That’s special. That name belongs to an innocent human who doesn’t exist anymore.
“Perhaps you desire a new name that better reflects your new identity,” Nahida said. “You are no longer the Balladeer or Mochou. You are a fusion of the two — something completely new. ‘A name is life’s first gift,’ after all.”
The playful look in her eyes told Mochou that she had read his mind. He rolled his eyes but the smile stayed steadfast on his lips.
“Very clever, Buer,” he said.
“So, what will it be? Do you have any ideas? If you don’t, maybe the traveler and Paimon can help?”
Mochou spared one glance at Paimon and then shook his head. “I can decide this on my own.”
“At least let Paimon pick out a funny nickname!”
“Why?”
“Because, well… Paimon still doesn’t like you very much!”
A wry laugh escaped from Mochou’s lips. “Then I hope we don’t see much of each other in the future.” He turned back toward Nahida and extended a hand. “Call me Tachiyaku.”
“That is an interesting choice,” Nahida said. “It’s a role in Kabuki theater for a young male character.”
“Sounds pretty dry to me,” Paimon said. “Paimon was hoping you’d pick something more interesting.”
“You’re not the one who will be walking around with it for the rest of your life,” he said.
“It’s perfect,” Traveler said.
Tachiyaku shared a smile with them. “At least someone gets it.”
“Then Paimon will call you Tachi!” Paimon said. “‘Tachiyaku’ sounds too much like ‘takoyaki.’”
Tachi shrugged. “Whatever you say.” He turned back to Nahida once more, shifting on the balls of his feet. “I take it we’re done here for the moment?”
“What do you plan to do next?” Traveler asked.
“Everyone who manipulated me and made me suffer will have to pay the price. And there’s someone important I need to speak to.”
“The Doctor?” Paimon asked.
Tachi nodded. That was one of the people, yes, but not the one he had been thinking of.
“Your life’s trajectory has changed, and with it, your future, too,” Nahida said. “But today’s events will take some time to process. You should take some time to compose yourself before confronting those who have wronged you.”
“I won’t forget those I have wronged, too,” Tachi said. “Back in Inazuma, there are descendants of the Raiden Gokuden who deserve to know the truth and my involvement in their downfall.”
“We can help,” Traveler said.
Tachi prepared to shake his head, then paused. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m already in your debt as it is. Although, if you happen to be in the area, I would appreciate it if you could pass the message along for me.”
“Man, sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate!” Paimon said.
Well. Wasn’t that to be expected?
“That’s only natural,” Nahida said. “Erasing oneself from the past is not a simple feat to accomplish. Every action has an inescapable consequence, just as energy never truly disappears, but instead gets converted into another form.”
“So what you’re saying is, Scaramouche was always gonna have to fess up to his actions somehow,” Paimon said.
“Yes,” Nahida said. She turned toward Tachiyaku. “Achieving godhood, Annihilating the humans you so detested… when you attempted to erase yourself from Irminsul, those aspirations became unachievable. And although you have regained some of your power, those things will never be within your reach again. What you tried — and failed — to accomplish are moments that belong only in history.”
“Of course,” Tachi said.
He didn’t want those things anymore anyway. They wouldn’t give him what he truly wanted. What he wanted was a purpose, a heart. Someone to love and be loved by. Recovery from the pain and resentment that had been burning up inside of him for hundreds of years.
All he wanted now was to heal.
Heal himself. Heal the scars he had left across other people’s lives, as much as he could.
Learn how to let himself cry as much as he wanted without hating the feeling of it.
“Do you regret doing all of that?” Paimon asked. “You didn’t even get anything from it.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Tachi said. “There’s nothing in my life that I regret.”
There was a lesson to be learned from everything that had happened, and maybe when he wasn’t feeling so fried, his brain would be able to figure it out.
He turned to Nahida. “You intentionally left that information in Irminsul, didn’t you? Why?”
“In all honesty, your past experiences have made you a useful asset to Sumeru and to me,” she said.
She said that, and Tachi heard the word purpose. The Mochou half of him sprang forward at the opportunity to fulfill that purpose.
Tachi grinned. “So, this was your way of winning me over.”
“Winning you over was indeed a part of my plan,” she said. “But I wanted to tell you the truth about your past first. I refused to exploit you as the Doctor had in the past.”
Tachi had to smirk. “That’s very clever.”
“I guess you could say that’s one of my virtues,” she said.
She looked a little too smug about that fact.
“Utility to others is what gives me worth. So, if embracing my sins is what it takes to make me useful again, then so be it,” Tachi said.
“Nahida doesn’t see you like that,” Traveler said.
“Yeah!” Paimon added. “You’re now a good guy too, aren’t you?”
“I will never be a ‘good guy,’” Tachi said. “But still, I don't feel like I've been duped. The wisest leaders are fated to end up with the best helpers, and I can help with that.”
“I’m glad you can see it in that way,” Nahida said.
“Traveler. Thank you again for helping me,” Tachi said, turning to catch their eyes again. “I will do whatever I can to repay you for helping me retrieve my memories. I’ll be there if you ever seek me out.”
The words reminded him of Xiao. He hoped the stern look in his eyes was enough to hide his sadness.
“I didn’t do this for a reward,” Traveler said. “I just wanted to help you.”
“Unthinkable,” Tachi said. “Nobody does things just out of the goodness of their hearts. You had a purpose behind your actions, and whatever that purpose was, I’m grateful for it.”
“Some people simply are just that kind,” Nahida said. “You can’t think of anybody who would do things to help you simply because they felt like it?”
Yes, he could. His lips twisted in a wry grimace. Mochou was the kind of person to do something like that. Xiao, too.
Humans are such confusing creatures, as he had once said.
When Tachi didn’t respond, Nahida continued. “Humans are multifaceted creatures with the capacity for all sorts of emotions and intentions. To be human is to live with imperfections. And you can choose whether or not you want to be human.”
I am human!, a part of him said that he didn’t entirely believe. He felt a pang in his head and reached up, massaging his temple. Some other part of him wasn’t very happy at that revelation.
“My past experiences are making it a little… difficult to focus right now,” Tachi said. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
Nahida stretched forward an arm and touched Tachi’s hand. He didn’t move away.
“The past is set in stone, but you can keep moving on,” she said. “And the longer your future lasts, the shorter your past will become, until one day it is but a tiny fraction of your life. Perhaps your past self had trouble believing he could ever be human. But the longer you settle into being ‘Tachiyaku,’ perhaps your worldview will begin to change, too.”
I sure hope so, Tachi thought with a sigh. “It sounds like you’ve got a future planned out for me.” He could hope that were the case, anyway.
“I hope you give Nahida a chance,” Traveler said.
Tachi turned toward them, studying the small smile playing on their lips. That face read hope, too.
“Yeah!” Paimon shouted. “You’ve gotta follow Nahida now, otherwise all of our effort will have been for nothing!”
Tachi’s eyes fell back down to Nahida. He could do a lot worse than helping an archon, especially considering everything that had happened to him so far. He hadn’t forgotten Zhongli’s kindness nor his mother’s cruelty, but Lesser Lord Kusanali definitely felt more similar to the former than the ladder. “I would be honored to help you.”
“I am glad you’ve accepted my proposal,” Nahida said.
“With that, can we finally call it a day?”
“Yes. I imagine you’re very tired. I can set you up with a room if you would like to rest for a while,” Nahida said.
“That would be nice. For the moment, though, I think I just need to go on a walk to clear my head,” Tachi said.
“Have a good walk,” Traveler said.
“Goodbye, Lesser Lord Kusanali. And Traveler and Paimon,” Tachi said.
He spared them one final glance over his shoulder, lifting his hand in a small wave before continuing his strides toward the exit.
It was a little cold out and the sun was setting.
Tachi still didn’t necessarily feel the cold as much as he was registering that it existed. He had faint memories of traveling in Snezhnaya, hatred bubbling up inside as the joints in his legs began stiffening up from the cold despite not actually feeling any pain from it.
The one thing that hurt in the very literal sense was his head. It was stuffed with more thoughts and emotions than he knew what to do with, warring over each other so much that it brought sharp pangs to his frontal lobe. His eyesight was blurry and his hands had started to shake again.
He approached a balcony, leaned over it, and cupped his head between his hands. He could definitely understand Xiao’s appeal for secluded balconies.
He felt close to vomiting, even though there probably wouldn’t be anything inside his stomach to regurgitate. He was powerful and weak and needed something, and for the first time he had no idea what that something was, only that it was missing and he was so unbelievably empty without it.
Tears were already beginning to prick the edges of his eyesight and he lifted his head, staring up into the cool sky as it turned blazing oranges and yellows. It was beautiful and there was no point denying that any longer.
Tachi remembered Xiao and Wangshu Inn and sucked in a quick, sharp breath, feeling the sadness wash over him even worse than it had before. The tears flowed out of his eyes and he brought his fingers up, hands curved against his cheeks, catching all the water as it flowed from his face and dripped down his chin.
How dare he go and fall in love with another mortal, consigning himself to another future of pain and solitude. How dare he taint himself with these same inglorious feelings of joy and yearning that he had thought he’d cast away so long ago. How dare he waste someone’s time on him and this unworthy, tainted shell of a creature he couldn’t even bring himself to call human anymore.
How was he going to confess to Xiao everything that he had done? How would Xiao ever forgive him for it?
Xiao deserved someone good. He deserved someone who was capable of loving and protecting him in the way he deserved, someone he could be proud of and show off to the world without shame, and Tachi simply was not that person.
This realization broke his heart. What hurt even worse was knowing this was just another problem Tachi could run from, that he could leave unresolved forever. He had turned his back on Niwa and the nameless child before — he could do it again.
No. He had done things that way for too long. He had already answered for his worst behavior by restoring his memories — he could confront Xiao.
But not tonight. Nahida had been right; he needed time to process. And Xiao was not the only thing he still had to cry over.
“I promise,” Tachi whispered, his voice thinner than the breeze that blew through his hair as he stared up at the setting sky, “I’ll say goodbye to you someday, Xiao.”
Notes:
Thanks so much to all of you who are keeping up with the story weekly! Lurkers and especially commenters, all of you keep me going.
I recently joined some new discord servers where I sometimes find chances to mention in passing that I ship Xiaomouche and usually people's first question is, "Oh, how does that work?" (If they ask at all) and then this fic plot explodes into my head and I have to collect my thoughts 🤣 I'm so appreciative that all of you see the same things I see or at least are curious enough to want to hear what I have to say about this ship.
I just want you all to know that I re-read the future chapters and I made myself cry 😂 I love Xiao very much, I promise!!
P.S. My discord is SarunoHadaki#5024 if anyone wants to chat! I also have a twitter @SarunoH
P.S.S. can I just say how much personal JOY it gives me to finally be using tachi's final name?? There aren't going to be any (major) new names for Scaramouche in the future. Tachiyaku is going to be the new one and I'm so happy with it.
Chapter 8: In Faded Lantern Light
Summary:
Weeks pass and soon months without Xiao seeing even a shadow of Mochou at Wangshu Inn.
Chapter Text
Guili Plains were surprisingly calm this late into the afternoon.
It was spring and the sun was out, inviting children to run outside and play. The distracted adults didn’t seem to notice that their children were straying farther out than usual, so Xiao supervised them from the rooftop of Wangshu Inn. He sat with one knee hiked up, the other stretched out with his spear pulled close. A breeze blew past, causing his hair to sway as it pulled children’s laughter along with it.
That sound reminded him of Mochou.
A lot of things reminded him of Mochou, actually.
Such as the sound of housekeepers washing dishes in the kitchen, a task Mochou once said he actually enjoyed. But also Qingxin flowers. Tang yuan. And the sunlight on Xiao’s bedsheets in the morning.
So many little, inconsequential things that Xiao had never given a second thought to were suddenly the only things he could focus on.
In response, he had started doubling down on his demon-hunting work. Fighting was the one thing that did not allow for any distractions. As soon as he dove into the fray, the only thing he could afford to think about was his life.
Perhaps that was simply a temporary solution to a bigger problem. But he did not see it that way. If it helped ease the longing inside him, then he welcomed it, even if it meant he felt more tired or was more encumbered by the karma than usual.
As soon as Mochou returned, Xiao would scale back on the fighting. If not because it was taxing then because Xiao knew that Mochou would insist upon it.
Down below, one of the children tripped. Xiao heard their knee as it scuffed the dirt then the sharp scream of their crying. Xiao closed his eyes to the sound, his karmic debt having made him more sensitive to noise in recent days.
A little longer. He just had to hold out a little longer.
Keeping his eyes closed helped with the noise but also made his head heavy with exhaustion. It began to tilt just the slightest bit forward and Xiao flinched, pulling himself upright again.
The adepti did not need to sleep. But maybe some mediation would help.
Xiao laid his spear down next to him and crossed his legs. He straightened up his spine, placed his hands on his knees, and closed his eyes.
It, too, had gotten harder to meditate recently. Xiao found that his body struggled to relax and there were few things that he could rely on to help ease his worries. Mochou was at least partially to blame for that. The sooner he came back, the sooner Xiao could cast aside all his worthless worrying about him.
Xiao took in a slow, steady breath and forced his shoulders down. A shadow of lethargy eased his shoulders down the rest of the way, his head clouded over with the gentle promise of sleep, and this time he did not fight it.
Xiao woke to the sound of his name whispered in his ear.
He jerked awake and immediately grappled for the spear beside him. It was already dark out, a blanket of stars emerging overhead. He searched for a source of the sound, a place to go — whether that be Mochou’s side or Traveler’s — but couldn’t determine an answer.
That’s not usually how this power worked. The people of Liyue’s prayers always found a way to reach him and it should have been easy to pinpoint where those prayers had come from.
Ugh, perhaps he was just hearing things. The voices inside his head hadn’t exactly been kind to him recently, after all.
Xiao stood, brought the spear up with him, and concentrated on teleporting into the inn.
The lights assaulted his eyes first, quickly followed by the familiar sight of Verr Goldet’s reception desk and the ledger placed atop it. She stood behind it, as usual, but there was an unexpected guest at Xiao’s side.
Xiao’s eyes fell upon straight shoulders, a brown and amber waistcoat, and striking golden eyes.
“Zhongli-daren,” Xiao said with a deep bow.
Zhongli gestured for him to return to his full attention again. “Good evening, Xiao. Could you spare the time for a walk?”
“Of course,” he said.
Zhongli turned toward the stairs and began to scale them. Up two stories was the private balcony that Xiao often used to find a space away from humans; Zhongli was doubtless leading them there. Xiao followed him, swallowing the questions wanting to rise out of his throat.
Why was he here? Had he heard from Mochou? Was he the one whose voice Xiao had heard?
“Where is Mochou? I would have expected to hear his voice by now,” Zhongli said.
Xiao frowned. “He left for Sumeru.”
“Ah, I see,” Zhongli said. “How long ago was that?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“And he still has not returned?”
Xiao shook his head. “The journey to Sumeru isn’t short.”
He said that, but doubt still settled inside of him. When Mochou last left, he had barely been away from the inn for five days. And that was keeping in mind the fact that a round-trip to Liyue Harbor usually took at least six days.
Mochou was not a normal human; the trip to Sumeru should not have taken him this long. And he had not sent any letters or any other indication of how he was doing.
“You are worried about him,” Zhongli said.
“No, I’m—” Xiao grunted. He shook his head and looked off to the side. “Forget about it.”
Mochou would have called if he needed help, Xiao was certain of that. Xiao had insisted on that on multiple occasions and Mochou had never had a problem calling his name in the past.
The problem was Xiao’s fear that Mochou didn’t want to come back.
“I would like to hear your thoughts,” Zhongli said. “Please, share them with me.”
Where was Xiao even supposed to begin? All he was thinking about lately was Mochou. There was no point concealing that much, then.
“Mochou said that if there was a past he could not remember, he had to discover it. Even if the memories were bad,” Xiao said. “He said it was all to find his ‘purpose.’ But I am confused. I thought he had already found his purpose here.”
“I believe he was referring to learning why he had been created,” Zhongli said. “That is a more difficult answer to find but indeed may help him understand his purpose more fully as well.”
“But why does he need to find that purpose to begin with?” Xiao asked. “Why does it matter what he had originally been created for?”
“This is not something you’re expected to understand,” Zhongli said. Xiao’s cheeks burned and his head pulsed with pain. “You have always had a purpose. You are a yaksha who grew up with a family that loved you. But Mochou did not, and even though he may have found a family along the way, there is still a yearning to know what had been before.”
Zhongli stroked his chin as he added, “After all, it is only human nature to be curious.”
“But Mochou is not human,” Xiao said. Mochou had made that perfectly clear.
Zhongli looked at him, studious and considering, before saying, “Perhaps not. But he still exudes many qualities of a human, so what is the harm in calling him one?”
Xiao frowned and looked down at the railing. His hands slowly curled around the wooden railing as thoughts coursed through his mind, sending another painful pang down his spine. He winced.
Mochou was human even though he had been created as a puppet? Then what of all those times where they couldn’t figure out how humans worked? Where had Mochou found out how to be human without even telling Xiao?
“Xiao. Have you ever considered that one of the reasons Mochou wanted to retrieve his old memories was because he thought they would help him understand you better?”
“He already understands me well enough,” Xiao said.
“You could tell him a thousand stories about your life and he could read a thousand books about the yaksha. But that would not make him feel any more like he could understand that pain.”
“I do not need his sympathy,” Xiao said. His company would be enough.
“It is not sympathy,” Zhongli said. “It’s empathy.”
Xiao shook his head. “They’re all the same.”
They were all overly complicated, useless emotions that he couldn’t — and didn’t want — to understand.
Xiao felt a weight on his shoulder and looked up. Zhongli retracted his hand, a gentle smile on his lips.
“You are enough. And it is not your fault he left. We cannot help what paths other people choose to walk in their lives, only our own. And I am certain yours and Mochou’s will eventually merge again.”
In Xiao’s eyes, Zhongli’s words were essentially scripture. And yet he still felt a sliver of doubt creeping up inside of him.
“Are you sure?” Xiao asked.
“I would not say it if I were not certain of it. You’re special, Xiao. You need to be reminded of that sometimes.”
“I—” I’m really not. Xiao swallowed again and lifted his eyes to meet Zhongli’s gaze. “You are right. I’m being foolish. Mochou will be back any day now.”
Zhongli nodded. “Let us look forward to what we’ll be having for dinner. Do you have any suggestions?”
A year later…
Weeks passed. And then weeks became months, each one somehow longer and more painful than the last. The yearning that Xiao felt inside of him grew and grew until it eclipsed everything.
And then, one day, it collapsed in on itself.
It hurt. Everything hurt. Xiao stopped being able to remember a time when he didn’t feel this way, with voices always in his ears and the karmic debt searing a trail of pain through his body. He had encountered voices before but never quite this loud and consistent, whispering to him even when he was trying to rest.
Xiao had felt this hurt before with Bosacius but this time it was even worse because Mochou was close to Xiao in a way nobody else had ever been before. Xiao had thought he already knew what grief felt like, to wonder to himself what had become of the person he loved, but clearly he didn’t.
It had never made him this desperate or sad.
The incessant demon-hunting was becoming a maladaptive coping mechanism but he didn’t care. He had fought for a thousand years. He had promised to lay down his life to protect the people of Liyue and that had not changed despite Mochou’s disappearance.
Whenever Xiao returned home for meals or to experience what little rest he could, he always told himself not to expect Mochou’s voice traveling downstairs from the kitchen or outside on the balconies.
But he still did, and Verr Goldet still gave him a sad, knowing look whenever he turned his head toward a child’s laugh only to catch himself and feel the frustration rising in his heart once more.
He needed to stop playing this game with himself. It had been almost a year since Mochou left. If he was going to return, he would have already.
One morning, Xiao was in Giuli Plains, doing a brief patrol of the area while it was still early, when he heard his name. He tensed up, gripped his spear, and teleported to its source, his heart in his throat.
It wasn’t Mochou. It wasn’t Mochou—
“Hi, Xiao!” Paimon’s voice called.
Xiao’s vision blurred for a second but rapidly cleared to reveal Traveler and Paimon standing out by his favorite balcony. Traveler looked as fresh-faced as ever, eyes bright and lips turned up in a wide grin that didn’t shrink when their eyes fell on him.
He could always count on Traveler to cheer him up. It had been a while since their last meeting and he welcomed the rare chance to bask in their company. Aside from Mochou and Zhongli, Traveler and Paimon were the only company he kept anymore.
Xiao crossed his arms. “You called for me?”
“We’ve been looking for you!” Paimon said. “We heard that you were planning on skipping this year’s Lantern Rite again, and Traveler just had to come and try to convince you otherwise!”
Xiao shook his head. Hadn’t they learned from the past few years?
“You know I cannot attend,” Xiao said. “I am not interested. Go on without me.”
“Not even the outskirts?” Traveler asked. “You don’t have to go into Liyue Harbor. You could watch from just outside.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Are you sure?” Paimon asked. “But you missed out last year too, didn’t you?”
“Who told you that?” Xiao asked, the tone revealing his genuine curiosity. He had spent last year with Mochou; naturally, that counted. But Traveler and Paimon had not even checked in on him last year, so they must have assumed he spent that year alone.
Paimon and Traveler shared a look.
“Wait, you did go last year?” Paimon asked. Her legs kicked and she floated just a little higher in the air. “Then you should definitely go again this year, too!”
Now Xiao was getting frustrated. He didn’t need another year of painful reminders of what he didn’t have. He didn’t need to forge more memories with people who were only going to end up hurting him when they eventually left. And he didn’t need to burden more people with his tainted presence. He’d only weigh everything down.
“Go on, have fun without me. I will be fine,” Xiao said.
Paimon sighed and Traveler frowned.
Traveler put their hands on their hips and said, “Don’t make me pull out the old, ‘I need a guide to Liyue Harbor’ card again.”
Xiao’s lips twisted down in a grimace. “Traveler, do not force my hand. I just want to be alone.”
Before he could give them an opportunity to respond, he teleported away to his room.
He clutched at his head and collapsed into the bedsheets, sucking in a sharp breath. The karmic debt hit him all at once, perhaps upset at him for abusing his teleportation powers too much earlier that day (or using them at all).
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t spend the holiday in company. He just wanted to be left alone.
Xiao’s spear dematerialized, his teeth gritted together, and he held himself. As much as he didn’t want to, he remembered last year, with all the bright lights and warmth and smiles he would never experience again. His eyes drifted to the bedside table where Mochou’s doll sat. He reached out and brought it to his chest.
The doll was delicate and fit perfectly in Xiao’s hands. Mochou had stitched a smile onto its face using a singular piece of black thread that had long ago unraveled, but Xiao did not mind. The doll still looked happy without it.
Xiao was exhausted. Guilt ate away at him for ever daring to yell at the Traveler for things they had no reasonable way of knowing or understanding.
Things would have been better had Xiao never answered their call in the first place.
A few hours later, Xiao woke to a knock at his door. It was night then. He’d spent all the time trying to rest and meditate to little success. The waterwheel outside his room that usually brought him such peace was a pain to his ears now.
He shot up in bed and looked toward the door as a voice gently called, “Hey, Xiao? Are you there?”
It was the Traveler again. Xiao breathed a low sigh of relief and rose to his feet.
He crossed the room, curled his hand around the door handle, and pulled it open.
Traveler stood on the other side with a smile and a plate of almond tofu. “Do you mind if I come in?”
Xiao shook his head and gestured inside.
It was useless. He knew he would have to yield to their whims eventually, persistent as they were.
“I hope we didn’t push too much earlier,” Traveler said. “I brought some almond tofu as an apology.”
“Thank you,” Xiao said.
Traveler handed the tofu to Xiao and he sat down on the edge of his bed with the plate on his lap. Traveler sat at the other end of his bed, placing a hand between them on the mattress.
“How have you been?” Traveler asked.
“Fine.”
“You don’t look well. Have you been eating enough?”
“You do not need to worry about me,” Xiao said. “I really prefer to spend the holidays alone.”
Traveler sighed. “I know. And I don’t mean to dismiss your wishes if you really feel that way, but I figured I would at least try.”
As they spoke, Xiao took the spoon they had left on the plate and carved out a piece of tofu to stick into his mouth. It melted under his tongue and he sighed with relief as Traveler’s eyes drifted to the window.
“I didn’t know you lived right next to the waterwheel. I’d always assumed you lived in one of the rooms upstairs or something.”
Xiao shook his head. “It’s easier to keep my space from humans this way.”
“Ah, gotcha,” Traveler said. They leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “It must be nice, falling asleep to it every night…”
Xiao shook his head. He rarely actually went to sleep, not that they had ever heeded that particular comment.
The room fell silent as Xiao ate but it didn’t feel awkward between them. It scarcely felt awkward in Traveler’s company.
Perhaps Traveler had some advice they could provide on how to deal with grief. After all, they had already lasted several years without their sibling.
“Hey, Traveler,” Xiao called.
Traveler turned back toward him and hummed.
“Do you miss your sibling?” he asked.
The smile that once rested on Traveler’s lips disappeared.
“Every day,” they said.
“How do you cope?”
“I keep myself busy, for one,” Traveler said. “And spend my time with friends, like Paimon. It’s hard to get very buried in your own head when you have her floating on your shoulder yapping in your ear all day.”
They laughed lightly at that, the tone lathered with affection, but Xiao only frowned. Then there wasn’t much hope of him getting past this.
“Why?” Traveler asked. “Is there someone you’re thinking of?”
“Oh, no, it’s—”
He couldn’t say it was nothing. It was far from that. But how else was he supposed to dissuade Traveler from prying?
“It might make you feel better to share with someone else,” Traveler said. “I know that whenever I’m feeling especially down, I just tell Paimon and she cheers me up with a joke right away.”
Xiao did not think a joke would fix this, but perhaps there was some merit to at least sharing the pain with someone he trusted.
“It is true that I have been missing someone,” Xiao said.
“Who?” Traveler asked.
“He said he was a wanderer. I met him two springs ago,” Xiao said. “He made me believe in feelings I did not know I had. He made me see joy where all I used to see was sunlight. And then he left.”
“Where is he now?” Traveler asked.
“I don’t know,” Xiao said. “He promised he would come back, but it’s already been a year.”
“I’m sorry,” Traveler said. “Want a hug?”
They opened their arms up to him and he hesitated, looking at Traveler’s gesture as if it would sting, before relenting to the aching urge for comfort.
Traveler’s embrace was warm around him. Xiao sucked in a slow breath, feeling the gentle weight of a touch he hadn’t felt in ages. He longed for it, closing his eyes off to the world as he allowed himself to be carried ever briefly somewhere else.
“It’s okay,” Traveler whispered, but Xiao wasn’t sure how much he believed those words.
“I miss him,” Xiao whispered.
It hurt as much as it relieved him to finally admit aloud.
Traveler’s hand moved to the curve of his back and held him softly. It was enough to bring him to tears. All the feelings he’d left bottled up poured out and he didn’t even try to hide it.
Xiao cried, hot tears leaving trails down his cheeks as his hands tightened around the fabric on Traveler’s scarf. His head hurt, the memories hurt, and they swept him up until he had no perception of time anymore.
He couldn’t have been crying for a minute before pulling away, regretting how he had clung to Traveler in such a shameless way.
Traveler didn’t look bothered, however. If anything, they looked surprised.
“Your cheeks are purple,” Traveler said.
Mochou had said something similar once. Hearing the words again brought another surge of memories to the forefront of his mind and more tears spilled from the corners of his eyes.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Traveler said.
Xiao shook his head as he wiped the tears away. “No, it’s fine.”
Traveler’s eyebrows curved up in a worried but hopeful smile. “Do you at least feel a little better?”
Xiao nodded. “Thank you.”
“It’s no problem,” Traveler said. “Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own? I wouldn’t mind staying the night.”
“No, I will be fine,” he said. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“You always say that and somehow that only makes me worry more.”
“Really, Traveler. I am fine. I just need some time to rest.”
“Then I will leave you to it. So long as you promise to take care of yourself,” Traveler said.
They rose from Xiao’s bed and took a step toward the door when they glanced at the floor. Traveler knelt down and picked up the fallen Mochou doll that Xiao hadn’t even noticed he’d dropped.
Xiao stared with exacting eyes as Traveler placed it on the edge of his bed and put a finger up to their lips.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” they said.
Xiao shook his head, unable to come up with a response, as Traveler walked toward the door, opened it up, and slid out into the cold night.
“You sure you don’t wanna come with us?” Paimon’s voice squeaked over the breakfast table.
Xiao sat across from Paimon and Traveler, having just emptied his bowl of the rice they had made for him.
“I will be fine,” Xiao said. He rose from his seat and gestured to the path leading away from the inn. “Do not let me keep you.”
“C’mon Paimon,” Traveler said.
Xiao led them down the path toward Liyue Harbor, just as he had with Mochou so long ago, and watched Traveler cast them another hesitant, worried look-over. Xiao crossed his arms and frowned.
“The adepti know how to care for themselves. You need not worry about me.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Traveler said. Then, thinking better of whatever they were going to say, they shook their head and smiled. “Anyway. We’ll see you again soon. Have a good not-Lantern Rite.”
“Goodbye,” Xiao said.
Traveler gave him one final warm smile, Paimon chattered away her own goodbye, and Xiao stared as they took the path away from the inn. Then he looked down to the hands curled into fists at his sides and tried to force the trembling to stop. No matter how tightly he clenched his wrist, however, the shaking persisted.
Chapter 9: Degree of Separation
Summary:
Another year passes and Traveler visits to celebrate Tachi's birthday.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Another year later…
Another boring day in Sumeru.
Tachiyaku had woken that morning to the sound of rain outside and a gust knocking incessantly on the windows. He had closed the shutters last night, annoyed that the sound would dare interfere with his resting time, but the weather hadn’t cared.
He had met with Nahida, as always, at the Sanctuary of Surasthana to pick up his duties for the day.
He had hoped it would be something interesting. And indeed, in terms of his assistant duties, patrolling the forest outside Sumeru City wasn’t so bad.
Could have done without the wind, though.
Nahida had sent him in search of some eremites who were stealing important documents from scholars traveling one of the popular paths up to the city. And, just as Nahida had suspected, as soon as he walked five minutes out, Tachi heard a voice behind his shoulder.
“Hey, kid.”
Tachi hid a grin as he heard footsteps approaching.
If there was one thing he was grateful for with this vessel, it was the guise of innocence it provided whenever dealing with idiots like this.
Tachi turned around, his expression bereft of cruelty, and dropped his eyes onto the men standing behind him. Just a simple pair of run-of-the mill thugs. Nothing extraordinary about them aside from their monumental stupidity in having the audacity to disturb him.
“Can I help you?” Tachi asked.
“Yeah. Give us that bag yer carryin’.”
The taller of the two reached out for the decoy bag Tachi had slung over his shoulder.
Tachi’s hand shot out, grabbing the bandit’s wrist first, and twisted. He reveled in watching the man’s face screw up in shock, no doubt surprised that Tachi had such strength that had seemingly come out of nowhere.
The man tried to pull his wrist away but Tachi would be having none of it. He pulled the man closer. He squirmed to get away but Tachi’s grip was too tight to break away from.
“Where did you stash all the other documents you stole, hm? Tell me, and I might not break every bone in your body.”
The second man leapt into action, darting forward with a sword drawn. With one swift flick, Tachi twisted the first man’s wrist and heard the satisfying crack of a broken bone. The man screamed but Tachi ignored it, shoving him out of the way to dodge the sword aimed for his throat.
Tachi’s movements were fluid after analyzing the same predictable patterns hundreds of times. The man would pursue him again, and he would shoot into the sky using anemo. He’d rain windblades down upon them until they were cowering in their boots.
He always enjoyed the brief but nevertheless satisfying moment where he saw the look in their eyes, that flash of life and fear that Tachi might end it, before he dropped to the ground again and crossed his arms.
He’d backed the thieves into a corner now. They both looked pitiful soaked in the rain, their hair windswept and their clothing ripped from the torrent of attacks Tachi had delivered to them.
“We yield,” the first said. “Please, just don’t kill us.”
Tachi beckoned with a hand. “The documents.”
The men reached into their overcoats and offered the documents up. Tachi snatched them away and flicked through the pages. A cursory glance told him this was the information Nahida had been looking for.
With the task complete, Tachi turned on his heel and walked back toward Sumeru City.
Nahida was, as Tachi expected, pleased with his performance. Despite the papers being damp from the rain, they were still legible.
“Why do you need these?” Tachi asked. He stood under a nearby pillar, his back against it with his arms crossed. “Doesn’t Irminsul already have this information recorded?”
“Yes, but there is still value in having information recorded physically,” she said. “Especially after I dismantled the Akasha Terminal, physical documentation has become more important again.”
She shuffled the papers once then set them aside and turned back toward him.
“Any injuries this time?” Nahida asked.
It was disgraceful that she even had to ask. “Only a broken wrist,” Tachi said.
“Good.”
She stared at him, a comment on the tip of her tongue, but just as it was her habit, it would be up to Tachi to acknowledge it.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s nothing,” Nahida said, a silent laugh waiting to break free through her warm smile. “I was just thinking, you’ve come so far from when you first came to me two years ago. That chip on your shoulder has completely disappeared.”
“Tch,” Tachi scoffed. Not for the first time, he was grateful he couldn’t blush. “Getting sentimental, I see.”
“It is coming up on your birthday.”
“I don’t have a purpose for celebrations like that. To me, it’s just another day.”
“Your birthday is a day to be cherished,” Nahida said. “For you, it represents rebirth. The day you opened your eyes again to your truth, and to your past. Despite knowing what it would cost you, you took the responsibility to be held accountable for your actions, and I think that’s something to be praised for.”
“I was just doing what had to be done,” Tachi said. “I don’t deserve a special medal for it.”
“But still. You went through all that trouble. And for that, I’m proud of you.”
Tachi stared at her. He couldn’t help that hearing those words made him immensely happy but also shocked. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard those words spoken aloud before.
“There’s no need to look so serious,” Nahida said. “It was a compliment.”
“Do you have any more work for me or were you just going to pamper me with unnecessary comments all afternoon?” Tachi asked.
Nahida shook her head, the white strands of her side ponytail swaying. “No, that was all. Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”
If there was one thing Tachi didn’t like, it was idle time. His lips screwed up in a frown but he didn’t dare challenge her decision.
“Fine. If that’s all, then I’ll see you later.”
“Rest well,” Nahida said.
Back in Tachi’s room, he lounged back in the window seat that provided a perfect view of the maelstrom of weather outside. He closed off his ears to the sound of wind tearing through the trees, listening instead to the gentle scuff of his finger as it slid between two pages of his book.
He’d read this book so many times he could practically recite it on command. And despite the outdated language, he understood the meaning of each sentence perfectly.
Just as it had around this time last year, memories of the past were beginning to creep up on him again. It helped to reminisce, to indulge just a little in the past. Yakshas: The Guardian Adepti was always the first thing he fell back on when he started to feel this way.
It was familiar. It was one of the only tangible relics he still had of a time when he was truly, blissfully happy. And, of course, it reminded him so, so much of Xiao.
Though Xiao himself was a subject Tachi wasn’t ready to tackle yet, the yaksha were. They were separated just one degree away, close enough that he could admire them without the sting of longing burning through him too harshly.
There was a knock at Tachi’s door but it wouldn’t be enough to tear his eyes from his book. It was probably just Nahida coming back to ask him to make her some sort of sweet. How annoying that half the dishes he knew how to make were desserts.
“Come in,” Tachi called.
“Woooah, your room is much larger than Paimon expected!”
Paimon’s voice was like a slap to the face. Tachi snapped his book closed and glared up at her, but it was too late. She was already halfway across the room, floating close enough to flick on the nose, trying to get a good angle on the title of his book.
“Ooh, what are you reading?” she asked.
Tachi shoved the book underneath the cushion resting beneath his back and scowled. “Nothing. What do you want?”
“Hey! I was just asking!”
There she went again, kicking her legs as she devolved into a fit. Tachi rolled his eyes.
Traveler, who had been hovering near the entrance to Tachi’s room, stepped inside and looked around. There wasn’t much to see; he had left it largely undecorated aside from the furniture the room had come with. He never had a need for anything other than the bed and the window seat.
“Hello,” Traveler said.
Tachi still wasn’t used to the genuine smile that stretched across their lips when their eyes fell upon him. He shoved himself up in a sitting position as they approached.
“You wanted something from me?” Tachi asked.
“What, we can’t come to visit just because?” Paimon asked. “Or did you forget? Your birthday’s tomorrow!”
“I don’t have a birthday.”
“Everybody has a day that they were brought into this world! Even you, try as you might to deny it!” Paimon said.
“Nahida said it’s almost time for dinner,” Traveler said. “She asked us to come grab you.”
“Alright,” Tachi said.
Tachiyaku rose to his feet and led Traveler back toward the door.
That evening, Tachi made dinner.
It was his turn and he always felt a little better when he had a task to do, despite everyone’s protesting that he relax. What if he didn’t want to? What if he saw no reason to waste so much time lounging around simply because it was the date of his “creation”?
He was not made to have idle hands, and in fact, felt much more satisfied once they had finally sat down to eat his dinner.
It was quiet because everyone was occupied with shoveling the poon choi he had made into their mouths. He’d placed a giant bowl filled with ingredients in the center of the table for people to pick from with their chopsticks.
The bowl overflowed with dried mushrooms, shrimp, tofu, and shroomboar meat, with a bountiful offering of rice in the center.
Tachi served himself a small portion but he wanted to give everyone else a fair chance to enjoy it, too. He couldn’t be smug over how much they enjoyed the taste if their bowls ran empty. Instead, Tachi finished his food then cupped a hand in his chin and gazed out the window.
His thoughts were starting to get away from him again. A listless sigh escaped his lips as a voice pierced his ears.
“Tachi? Tachi!” Paimon shouted, dragging out that last vowel for an insufferably long time.
“What?” Tachi grumbled, dropping his hand back onto the table.
“Were you listening to us at all? Jeez, even for an anemo user, your head sure has been in the clouds a lot lately!”
Tachi scoffed but didn’t deny it. It was true; his thoughts had been drifting all afternoon.
“Tachiyaku,” Nahida called. Tachi turned his head toward her smile. “Thank you for making dinner. It was delicious as always.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“Paimon thinks it’s tasty, too! Paimon never would have expected someone like you to make something like this!”
Tachi’s lips quirked upward in a bitter smile. “I’m just full of surprises.”
“Indeed,” Traveler said. “This is ‘come and get it,’ which is a local specialty in Liyue usually served around Lantern Rite time.”
If this was Traveler’s subtle way of inviting Tachi to elaborate, he wasn’t taking the bait.
“If that comment is meant to provoke me to say something, then you’re better off just asking whatever question is on the tip of your tongue,” Tachi said.
“It was just an observation,” Traveler said.
Tachi pushed his chair away from the table and rose. “I’m turning in early tonight. I’ll leave the dish-washing to you.”
“Oh! Um, okay! See you tomorrow morning!” Paimon called.
“Night!” Nahida called too, and Tachi gave one final wave before leaving the room.
The next morning, Tachi woke, as he had anticipated, to a ready-made breakfast. He got out of bed at the usual time to find Traveler, Paimon, and Nahida already awake and preparing the breakfast table.
He knew, from one glance at the way things were positioned on the table, that this was a traditional Inazuman breakfast. There was rice, miso soup, boiled lavender melons, pickles, and grilled fish all arranged in plates and bowls in a semicircle on the table. When Traveler gestured with a grand sweeping motion to the spread, they grinned widely. Nahida paused her finicking with the plates to applaud and Paimon shouted, “Tada!”
“Happy birthday,” Nahida said. Traveler and Paimon were only a breath away from the same congratulations, and Tachi finally let a smile slip out.
“You sure put in a lot of effort,” Tachi said as he took his seat at the head of the table. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Traveler said. “I thought you might appreciate it.”
“I do.” Despite the fact that it made him hurt just a little.
“I will be abstaining from the fish, but let’s all dig in, shall we?” Nahida asked.
“Oh, you don’t like fish? I had no idea,” Traveler said.
And just like that, the conversation had eased itself away from Tachi and he was left to stare across the tablecloth at the boiled lavender melons, thinking of how memories were such a heavy burden to carry.
Tachi couldn’t stop from licking his lips after finishing the last of what was on his plate. He stretched backward in his chair, allowing the faintest bit of a smile to show when he took another sip of his bitter tea when Traveler reached underneath the table and brought up a wrapped gift.
The small smile fell and Tachi straightened in his chair again.
“You don’t need to look accosted,” Paimon said. “It’s a gift!”
“You’ve already done enough for me,” Tachi said. “I don’t need more.”
“That’s too bad, because I already made up my mind to give this to you,” Traveler said.
They pushed it across the table, smiled, and let their eyes drift up toward the ceiling. Mischievous little brat.
Tachi picked the gift up and placed it in front of him. Why did he feel nervous? There was nothing to be nervous about.
He pulled the ribbon apart and it unraveled underneath his fingertips. It was a simple box with a lid, so Tachi lifted the lid and looked inside.
The item inside looked akin to a leather wallet, dipped in a bright brown with a cord fastened around it to keep whatever it was tightly closed. Tachi lifted it out of the gift box, released the cord from the fastening that anchored it, and flipped it open on the table.
The first thing he noticed was a pair of scissors — a regrettable decision, seeing as who they were working with here — but also pins, buttons, and six spools of thread in a variety of colors.
“Nahida told me that you like to work with your hands so I thought you might appreciate this,” Traveler said.
“Don’t go thinking that just because you’ve seen into my past you know what sort of things I would be interested in,” Tachi said. “Still, thank you for thinking of me.”
Traveler’s expression flickered for a second before returning to a smile once more. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I brought you something, too,” Nahida said.
She lifted her hands, which held a slim rectangular box, and offered it to him. He accepted it and gripped the lid, sparing only one final glance before lifting it.
Inside was a slim silver twig with one leaf that glowed similarly to Nahida’s dendro powers. Tachi picked it up and rotated it; it glowed even in the morning light.
“It is a branch from the tree of Irminsul,” Nahida said. “This way, no matter where you go, knowledge will always find its way to you.”
Ah, so this was mostly just a sentimental gesture. And just like Nahida to choose something like this. The only problem he had with it was finding a place to keep it. Tachi placed it on the table and smiled.
“Thank you.”
“Oh, look! Tachi’s smiling!” Paimon shouted.
“Surprised? Even I can smile, you know,” Tachi said. “Thank you again for the gifts. I appreciate it.”
“I’m glad,” Nahida said. “I thought you’d like them.”
Traveler rose to their feet and started collecting their empty dishes for cleaning. Tachi stood too, reaching for his plate.
“Allow me to help.”
“So, what great adventures do you have planned for us today?” Tachi asked Traveler as they washed dishes.
He was handling the rinsing as they scrubbed the dishes clean. Both of them had taken their gloves off and Tachi could not help that his eyes drifted to their palms, noting the calluses of a seasoned fighter. As a puppet, even if Tachi did laborious tasks every day, his skin would never harden like that.
“Actually, I’ve got something I have to take care of so I’ll be away for a little while,” Traveler said. “But I’ll be back by evening. Maybe we could watch a show together then.”
“Maybe,” Tachi muttered.
He managed to keep the disappointment out of his tone, but really, Traveler would have to be pretty thick not to know that he’d been hoping to spend some time with them.
“But Traveler, I thought the plan was to—”
Paimon started to speak but Traveler cut her off.
“Oh, Paimon, look! I found an extra lavender melon!”
As predictable as the sun rising every morning, Paimon made to protest, took another look at the food Traveler offered her, and shut up long enough to put it in her mouth.
Notes:
THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!!
Tachi breaks wrists and reads books on Yakshas cuz I said so!!! 😤 💕
(I also got to make some new breakers for this chapter!!)
Chapter 10: The Mysterious Case of the Puppet and the Adeptus Yaksha
Summary:
Intent on bridging an old connection, Traveler visits Wangshu Inn. However, neither side is as willing to reconcile as they had hoped.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Hey Traveler, I thought we were gonna spend Tachi’s birthday with him. So why are we leaving?”
Traveler led Paimon away from the higher levels of Sumeru down into the city, their eyes set on the cool blue glimmer of a waypoint.
“That was the plan initially, but I think there’s someone we should meet who has the potential to make Tachi’s birthday even more interesting, if my theory is correct.”
“Someone who will make his birthday more interesting? Who could that be?” Paimon asked.
“You’ll see soon,” Traveler said, a grin stretching across their lips.
Paimon crossed her arms and shook her head. “Paimon is still so confused! But if you say it will make sense soon, then Paimon believes you.”
The sun had long crested over the horizon in Liyue, bathing everything in the rich oranges and greens of the land below them. Paimon gasped and floated toward the balcony.
“Wangshu Inn?” Paimon asked.
Traveler nodded, already turning on their heel to walk inside. They took a left at the first staircase, which led them straight to Verr Goldet’s front desk. People’s voices floated in from the kitchen downstairs and the rooms branching off to the sides. Even outside, Traveler heard children’s laughter and conversations out in the sunlight.
“Good morning, Traveler,” Verr Goldet said. Her eyes turned onto Paimon next. “And Paimon.”
“Good morning,” Traveler said. “Have you seen Xiao around here lately?”
A chill ran down Traveler’s spine, their ears popped, and then Xiao appeared in front of them with a flash. Some of his hair shrouded the bright gold of his irises and black of his dilated pupils. Blood stained his spear and one of his cheeks, though he didn’t seem to notice.
“Waah! You scared us!” Paimon shouted.
Xiao winced, bringing a hand up to his forehead. “Don’t be so loud!”
“Sorry,” Paimon said.
“Do you mind cleaning up before having a conversation in my lobby?” Verr Goldet asked. “I would prefer not to scare our customers away.”
“Come, let’s go to my room,” Xiao said.
Blood was pumping so loudly into Xiao’s ears he could hardly hear much else as he walked Traveler over to his room. He tried and half-succeeded at evening his breaths, which came out as heavy pants.
The fight he’d just been torn from left him anxious and disoriented, even among the wooden floorboards and lanterns he considered home.
When he entered his room and ushered Traveler over to his bed to sit, they instead stood in the center of his room and frowned.
“Are you alright? Do you need any medicine?” Traveler asked.
“I will be fine,” Xiao said. “Human medicine does not do anything for me and the blood is not mine anyway.”
“At least a little bit of it is, though,” Traveler said.
They pointed to Xiao’s jaw and he reached up, touching his hand to the pulsing flesh. It stung but he maintained his composure as he pulled his hand away, finding his fingers stained with the dark teal of yaksha blood.
“It’s just a small cut,” Xiao said.
But he did feel a little more queasy than usual. He sat down on the end of his bed and lifted his eyes to Traveler’s.
“State your business,” he said.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Paimon asked.
Agh, he’d gone and gotten them worried. “Yes, I am fine,” Xiao said again, then reached up to wipe away the last remnants of blood on his face. Traveler sat down beside him and offered a white kerchief that Xiao quickly stained red and teal.
“Usually when we call for you, you don’t show up looking so… disheveled,” Paimon said.
“I have an eternity of work ahead of me,” Xiao said. “It keeps me occupied.”
“Maybe you should take a break,” Traveler said.
They reached out for his shoulder and he saw the second they felt the wave of karmic debt drifting over them, making them pull their hand away. Mortals with their weakened constitutions were much more susceptible to the pain of his karmic debt, but if it was getting so bad that it broke through even the traveler’s defenses, that was truly a sign of trouble.
It must have been as Xiao suspected; the debt was beginning to grow out of control.
“Keep your distance,” Xiao said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m fine,” Traveler said. Their eyes narrowed. “You need to worry about yourself. Maybe we could go to Sumeru for a spa day—”
“You would suggest I leave my post in Liyue?” Xiao asked. “I made a contract with Rex Lapis to protect this place. I can’t do that if I’m having a ‘spa day.’”
“But if you don’t, you’re gonna run yourself ragged!” Paimon shouted. “What if it gets to be too much and you can’t handle it anymore?”
“Then I will have fulfilled my purpose.”
The room fell silent for a moment as Traveler chewed on the inside of their lip. Xiao sighed, bracing himself for a verbal telling-off as Traveler’s jaw started to work.
But it never came. Instead, a gentler voice — Paimon’s — said, “We don’t want you to die.”
“I am not dying,” Xiao said.
“You better not be,” Traveler said. “Because you only get one life and you have to enjoy it to its fullest. What would the other yakshas think if they saw you like this? They would want you to be happy, not dive deeper into work as a distraction against your problems. If something is bothering you, you can tell us. We can share that weight with you.”
“I don’t have any problems,” Xiao said. “I’m just working!”
As soon as he raised his voice, another pang of pain went through him. He seethed and clutched at his temple again.
“Xiao! Are you okay?” Paimon asked.
He’d been doing well so far keeping himself composed but it was beginning to become difficult. A headache pulsed at the front of his forehead, aggressive enough that it blurred his vision.
The voices that followed him around incessantly as of late became amplified. They were so numerous he could not pick out a single coherent thought among them.
If Traveler or Paimon were saying something to him, he was having trouble parsing it from the other sounds.
“I just need to rest,” Xiao said.
He dropped his eyes on them again, finding, to his relief, that they hadn’t been saying anything to him at all. Both of their lips were drawn into thin, worried lines as they watched him stagger to his feet again and gesture to the door.
“I promise I will sleep as soon as you leave,” Xiao said.
“Alright, but that’s a promise,” Traveler said. They stood up and approached him with a wagging finger. “And I’m going downstairs to ask Smiley Yanxiao to make you something to eat. You better promise that whatever he gives you, you eat all of it.”
“Yes, I promise,” Xiao said.
Xiao stared one last time into Traveler’s eyes. He saw their concern, kindness, and love, but there was no time to parse it. It was taking everything in him not to crumple to the floor before they finally left.
“We’re gonna check back up on you soon, so you better be taking good care of yourself!” Paimon warned one last time before following Traveler out of the room.
Xiao closed the door, let out a gravely groan, and collapsed onto his bed.
“Aw, man! We got to see Xiao, but didn’t even find a chance to ask about Tachiyaku,” Paimon said.
She floated next to Traveler with her arms hanging down like cooked noodles.
They’d just finished talking to Smiley Yanxiao and were scaling the stairs back to Verr Goldet’s front desk.
Paimon glanced back over to Traveler as they asked, “What makes you think they know each other, anyway?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Traveler said.
Their eyes had already moved from Paimon toward the front desk.
“How did it go with Xiao?” Verr Goldet asked.
“He doesn’t look like he’s doing too well,” Paimon said. “Paimon’s worried about him…”
“That’s the life of an adeptus for you,” Verr Goldet said. “Although lately, I will definitely admit that he’s been running himself ragged more frequently.”
“Isn’t that concerning though?”
“There’s not much I can do about it,” Verr Goldet said. “It’s not our place to interfere with his personal responsibilities but I am right there with both of you. I really wish he would take a break.”
“I’m hoping you can help me with a little question that’s been bothering me,” Traveler said.
“Let’s hear it,” Verr Goldet said. “Depending on what it is, I might have an answer.”
“Was there anyone here about two years ago who was friends with Xiao?” Traveler asked.
Verr Goldet’s eyes widened. “Yes. Xiao made friends with an eccentric wanderer who came by about two years ago. How do you know about that?”
“I’m not sure it’s my place to say how,” Traveler said. “What was their name?”
“His name was Wanderer, but he started going by Mochou at about the ladder half of his time here.”
“Mochou? Where have we heard that name before?” Paimon asked.
She looked over at the Traveler, who had a knowing look in their eyes, which made Paimon gasp. “No! You can’t mean—”
Paimon started shouting, pummeling the top of Traveler’s head with her little fists. “Ugh, Paimon should have known that—” her eyes darted back to Verr Goldet and she gasped, bringing her hands up to her mouth. “Wait, Paimon didn’t say anything!”
“Do you know what happened to Mochou?” Verr Goldet asked. “If you know anything, please share. I know it would mean the world to Xiao to know that he’s okay.”
“It’s um, well…” Paimon started to talk, bumping her index fingers together in an awkward gesture.
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Traveler said.
“I see,” Verr Goldet said. “A case of ‘ignorance is bliss’?”
“Maybe,” Traveler said. “Xiao’s already having a fragile enough time as it is. I don’t want to tell him anything without making more progress first.”
“But then you still know something that he doesn’t,” Verr Goldet said. “Again. It’s not my place to pry. But I trust that if there’s something you can do to help Xiao, then you will do it.”
“Absolutely,” Traveler said.
“Then I will leave it to you,” Verr Goldet said.
“So, what’s the plan?”
They’d returned to just outside Sumeru City and Traveler dropped down into the grass. They’d packed a set of sandwiches for their trip and pulled them from their bag, offering one up to Paimon.
She floated down to sit below the shade of a tree beside them. Paimon’s short, stubby legs poked out in front of her as she pulled back the cloth wrapping her sandwich together and bit in.
“It’s a very delicate situation,” Traveler said. “We will have to approach it carefully.”
“How is it possible that they’re both such prickly people?” Paimon asked. “Paimon just can’t wrap her head around how either of those guys would ever get along!”
“Xiao first met Wanderer before he was Tachi,” Traveler pointed out.
“Ohhh, you’re right! So the only reason they got along before was because Mochou didn’t have any memories of his past life yet!” Paimon said. “Man, Paimon feels so sorry for both of them. It must be so difficult to miss someone who’s changed so much…”
“Yeah,” Traveler said.
They stared down into their sandwich. It had suddenly lost its flavor.
Why hadn’t Tachi ever mentioned Xiao before? Tachi was clearly still thinking about him given the yaksha book he carried around. And Xiao had that doll that looked suspiciously like Tachi, too.
They made each other happy. But now Xiao was in an eternal state of mourning, and Tachi was…
“We’re gonna confront Tachi about all of this,” Traveler said. “Tachi should be the one to tell Xiao about everything. Xiao deserves that much.”
“That makes sense,” Paimon said. “If we told Xiao, then he’d probably just get even more upset.”
Traveler wasn’t gone nearly as long as Tachi thought they might be.
Traveler had pretty quickly fallen back into their brightly smiling routine when they returned to Tachi’s side and suggested that Tachi help them clear out a campsite of thugs down the road.
Wasn’t like he had anything else to do. It didn’t really matter what the activity was either, so long as he could spend some time with them. It felt refreshing to be in company that wasn’t Nahida’s after so long.
Not to say that Nahida’s company was bad — it was very good actually, especially as far as his interactions with gods went. But sometimes conversations with Nahida lacked a certain something that only a human could provide.
Or Paimon, in that case, blabbing again about what she was going to have for dinner.
“Ooh, maybe we could have some tandoori roast chicken! Or butter chicken! Agh, I’m so hungry, I’d even take some aaru mixed rice…”
Did she ever shut up about food? Tachi rolled his eyes and turned toward Traveler, who, now that he thought about it, had not stopped staring at him since they sheathed their sword.
They’d already left the thief camp behind and were walking back up the path toward Sumeru City. Clouds painted the sky in dull greys and the vegetation glowed as if impatient for their evening drink of water.
Tachi’s shoes scraped against the dust of the trail, an unfamiliar sound to him after so much time spent floating around lately.
“Hey, Tachi,” Traveler said. Their hair whipped lightly in a breeze. “Do you mind if I ask a question?”
“Go on and say it already,” he said.
“Do you know someone named Xiao?”
The name made Tachi stop dead in his tracks.
“Where do you know that name from?” Tachi asked.
“He’s a friend of mine.”
An interesting coincidence.
“And from the sounds of things, he was once your friend, too,” Traveler added.
“You’re meddling in things that are none of your business.”
“But it is our business! Xiao is our friend, too!” Paimon said.
“Stay out of this,” Tachi hissed.
“Woah, there’s no need to get angry,” Traveler said. “I was just asking.”
“But the point stands that you know I knew him in my past life,” Tachi said. “You always have to find a way to stick your nose into business that doesn’t concern you.”
“It’s true. That seems to be a bad habit of mine,” Traveler said, a small smile playing on their lips. Very quickly, though, they frowned again. “He’s actually not doing very well. I think it would help if you went and spoke to him.”
“Me?” Tachi scoffed, shaking his head. “I am the last person he wants to see.”
“Why would you say that?” Paimon asked. “You were friends with him, weren’t you?”
“We weren’t friends. We were— You know what? It doesn’t matter.”
Tachi waved the thought away and strutted toward Sumeru City. He heard Traveler’s shoes tromping in the dirt behind him and set his mouth in a thin, concentrated line.
“He’s hurting, Tachi! And he refuses to take a break!” Traveler said. “I’m sure that Mochou’s disappearance has something to do with it. Maybe if you went over there and explained to him what happened—”
Traveler placed a hand on Tachi’s shoulder but that only succeeded in aggravating him more.
“He’s killing himself,” Traveler said.
Tachi whipped his head around to look at them. Their eyebrows drew up and Tachi could see tears threatening to surface.
Of everyone in Teyvat, Tachi was the last one who wanted Xiao to die. Dear archons, anything but that. But there was no way that he could do anything to make the situation better. All he’d ever done in his life was hurt people and watch people die. It would be safer — and less painful — for Tachi to keep his distance.
“I would only make things worse,” Tachi said. “I’m— I’m sorry, I just can’t face him right now.”
“But then when?” Traveler implored.
But Tachi didn’t have an answer.
He summoned a burst of anemo and sprang into the sky, sailing off toward the sanctuary as rain clouds loomed.
“As expected, that didn’t really go as planned,” Paimon groaned as soon as Tachi was out of earshot.
Traveler shook their head, watching the wide brim of Tachi’s hat disappear behind the treeline. They weren’t about to allow him to run away from his problems again.
“C’mon, let’s go to Nahida,” Traveler said with a determined strut toward the sanctuary.
Nahida was waiting for them in the sanctuary when they returned. She heard Traveler approaching from the other side of the bridge that led to the center of the room, leading her to close out of her console and turn around to greet them.
“Welcome back, Traveler,” Nahida said.
She cocked her head at them, probably noticing the troubled look on their face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing but everything!” Paimon shouted. “You won’t believe what we just figured out!”
She started talking, her arms moving in wide gestures with a few gasps thrown in for good measure. Nahida listened patiently, never once interjecting, the smile still on her lips. She had probably already read Paimon’s mind and understood the situation well enough without needing Paimon to explain every little detail, but if it helped Paimon get it out of her system, then Traveler didn’t mind.
“So, let me get this straight,” Nahida said. She lifted a finger as she said, “Between the time where Scaramouche had tried to erase himself from existence using Irminsul and his reemergence in Sumeru as Mochou, he had spent some time with an adeptus named Xiao at Wangshu Inn in Liyue.”
Paimon nodded, her fists brought close up to her chest.
“And Xiao still believes that Mochou is gone, when in fact he has been under the new name of Tachiyaku in Sumeru for two years,” Nahida said.
“And Xiao has been struggling with grief for Mochou that whole time,” Traveler said. “It hurts to see him this way. I really just wish we could tell him the truth. But he deserves to hear it from Tachi, who doesn’t want to help, as usual.”
Traveler crossed their arms and finally allowed the frustration to show on their face.
“Sometimes, the more you force a sumpter beast to go forward, the more it will want to walk in the opposite direction. The things Tachi is sensitive about are held very close to his heart, so close that even he doesn't notice them sometimes. Foremost of those things are his memories of the past.
“And although he might never admit it, since I am his family, I am the most suited to prying about the things he holds dearest to him,” Nahida said.
“Are you really sure he'll tell you anything though?” Paimon asked. “He looked pretty mad…”
“I can't guarantee that he'll act on anything we tell him, but I think it will be good for him to at least talk about it,” Nahida said. “Ever since we first met Mochou, I was preparing myself for this moment. The moment when he finally trusted me enough to open up about that important person whom he didn't want to leave behind in the past.”
“Maybe it's finally time for him to show Xiao what kind of person he's become,” Traveler said.
“Indeed. He's been doing a good job of taking what he's learned from the past and nurturing it to suit a more prosperous future. I can only hope Xiao will be another part of that legacy.”
“Paimon's still really worried about Xiao though,” Paimon said. “He looked like he was in really bad shape.”
“I can't speak to matters pertaining to him as I don't know him too well personally, but I can tell that between Traveler and Tachiyaku, Xiao has a good support system to aid whatever is ailing him.”
“I sure hope you're right,” Traveler said, a grim frown settling on their lips.
Nahida reached for their hand and squeezed gently before letting go. “Don't worry. You've seen how Tachi's been acting over meals the last two days. Now that he knows how Xiao is fairing, it will be difficult to ignore it. And if there's one thing I know about Tachi, it's that he likes to stay busy.”
“Xiao is a problem he could definitely keep himself busy with,” Paimon said.
“Absolutely,” Traveler said.
“Thank you for bringing this to Tachi's attention. You've already done half the work, so leave the rest to me,” Nahida said.
“Thank you,” Traveler said.
“It's my pleasure,” Nahida said. “I'm looking forward to seeing what sort of person Tachi becomes at the end of all of this.”
“Hopefully someone who's nicer to Paimon!”
At that, Nahida laughed and Traveler smiled gently.
After the argument Tachi had had with Traveler, he was surprised to find them and Paimon still at the dinner table that evening. Tachi’s mood had simmered down substantially after he had taken some time to think, although there was plenty that he still hadn’t resolved in his head.
He’s killing himself, Traveler had said. Explain to Xiao what had happened.
Someone with more courage would have done that a long time ago. But Tachi didn’t regret taking the two years to process even if he saw in Traveler’s eyes that they didn’t understand. He didn’t care if they understood his reasoning or not. All he cared about was setting things straight before it was too late.
That night, Traveler and Paimon lingered for just a little while before saying goodnight and leaving.
Tachi didn’t know when he would see them again.
He was expecting more. He was expecting them to insist on talking about Xiao more, about resolving the issue of their disagreement. It was so unlike Traveler to leave things hanging in the air before flitting about to whatever new thing had caught their interest.
It started to make more sense, then, once Traveler left and Tachiyaku was out on the balcony outside the sanctuary getting a breath of fresh air.
When he had first retrieved all of his memories and walked out of the sanctuary for the first time, he had stopped at this same spot and looked up at these same stars with the same longing in his chest.
Only this time, Nahida approached his side and dropped her hands onto the railing.
Ah. This was Traveler’s plan all along: to sick Nahida on him.
Tachi really couldn’t say no to her, after all. How sly of them to take advantage of that.
Tachi breathed out a sigh as Nahida lifted her head to the stars. He stared down at her, everything hinging on her. Depending on her saying the right thing to settle the discomfort inside of him.
It was pathetic. That he would hang so much of his fate on someone else’s shoulders. But she had grown accustomed to carrying that weight and Tachi knew there was no shame in having someone else to share it with.
“The stars are beautiful out tonight, aren’t they?” Nahida asked.
“Yeah,” Tachi muttered. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the curved stone of the balcony, and stared straight ahead.
The drop from this height was ten times more drastic than at Wangshu Inn. Here, everything was less orange, more green. At night, the sound of crickets flooded his ears. It was nothing like the churning of water back at the inn. And yet, both of them were comforting in their own ways.
“I need to go to him,” Tachi said, “While I still have a chance to say goodbye.”
“‘Goodbye’? Don’t you mean ‘hello’?” Nahida asked.
Tachi shook his head. “It’s true that I had initially been hoping to visit him again under better circumstances, but that simply isn’t possible for me. You know what I’m like and he doesn’t. And I… I don’t know.”
Tachi slid one hand over the other and stared at the large tree branches that curved upward, leaves rustling as a breeze blew past. “The heart of the matter is that I don’t want him to see who ‘Mochou’ has become. He deserves to remember Mochou as he was — a happy, carefree wanderer who wasn’t saddled with all of these unnecessary burdens. I don’t want to be in his life knowing I would only bring him pain and loss for what was and can’t ever be again.”
“Are you so sure that is how he will feel, though?” Nahida asked. “You would be surprised how forgiving people can be and how large their hearts are. People who show up in your life don't just evaporate like water drops and leave nothing behind. I don’t think either of you truly wish to erase each other from the other’s existence.”
“Of course I don’t want that. But do I have any other choice?” Tachi asked. “I’m not a good person. And after I tell him the truth, that will compromise everything our past relationship was built upon. There will be no going back.”
“That doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Nahida said. “Do you remember when you told me that ‘someone’ had changed the trajectory of your life forever?”
“How could I forget?”
“You told us that you wanted your old memories back because you needed to atone for what you had done and take responsibility. But there’s one piece of the puzzle, one card, you haven’t shown me yet,” Nahida said. “You haven’t mentioned what initially brought you to Sumeru. Before you knew for sure that there was even a past to pursue. When all you had was an inkling of an idea from Rex Lapis and your relationship with Xiao.”
Tachi grinned. “That’s clever,” he said. “You’re really going to make me say it? Wouldn’t it be easier just to read my mind for the answer?”
“I want to hear you say it,” Nahida said.
Tachi shook his head. Sometimes, remembering Mochou made him cringe. He truly wore his heart on his sleeve, too ignorant to know how to keep his feelings hidden even a little bit. He had babbled constantly about seeking a purpose, of accepting whatever past he had if it meant he could understand Xiao better.
It was so funny now, to look back at how clueless Mochou had been even to his own true feelings. Now that Tachi had finally achieved what Mochou had wanted, it was interesting to reflect on all the motives and desires that had led to this point.
When Tachi opened his mouth again, the first word out was Xiao’s name. It hurt more to say than he thought it would but he kept going, his hands curling into knuckles around the balcony railing.
“Xiao didn’t like to talk about his past. Even once I had gotten close to him, it took a lot of effort to squeeze even a sentence out of him about it,” Tachi said.
He shook his head, bringing his hand to the back of his neck to grip at the hair there. “He was like Mochou — all alone in the world with no one who understood what he was going through. The yakshas who understood have been dead for ages.
“I needed everything he had because that was the only way I could understand him better. It's not right, Nahida. That someone so kind would willingly subject himself to a life of solitude because he thinks that's better than troubling other people with his presence. I don't care what the circumstances are. It isn't fair and it didn’t make sense.”
“You wanted to be able to empathize with him,” Nahida said. “To be there for him so he didn’t have to live alone with his pain anymore.”
Tachi smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.” He lowered his eyes back onto Nahida and felt a wave of exhaustion rush over him. “If there was even a sliver of a chance that I could share that burden with him, I wanted to take that opportunity in a heartbeat.”
“That’s very selfless of you,” Nahida said. “This whole time, you had his interests in the back of your mind, too. You loved him so much that you were willing to sacrifice your current self for the sake of making sure he wasn’t alone.”
“He had no one for such a long time and the only thing I wanted was to make him happy. Everyone thinks he doesn’t let people get close because he doesn’t like the company, but it’s because he cares for their safety,” Tachi said. “He’s such a beautifully complex person. And yet, deep down, he’s deceptively simple.”
Nahida giggled. “Is that so?”
“And what are you laughing at?” Tachi grumbled.
“The same could be said of you,” she said. “All anyone ever wants is to understand and be understood. Mochou reflected that ideal perfectly. Even at the end, once he had acquired the heart Scaramouche had desired, it wasn’t enough. Because there was no point in having a heart if he could not feel everything with it.”
“He felt enough,” Tachi said. “Xiao was right about that much.”
Nahida sighed and Tachi shook his head. He didn’t regret any of it, though. Of course he didn’t.
These past two years had taught him so much. He had learned how not to be evil even though he didn’t yet consider himself “good.” He had begun to heal from the things he didn’t talk about. He had started to allow himself to feel joy from all the little human things he used to think were below him.
He smiled more than Scaramouche ever had and allowed Nahida to get closer to him than anyone had in hundreds of years. She understood him better than he could ever hope for anyone to — she understood what scared him, made him cry some mornings, and even what led to a random tantrum every now and again.
Nahida loved him, wholly and unconditionally, without reason or explanation, like nobody else had before. She understood everything that made him him, and yet still accepted him, despite everything.
What had Tachiyaku ever done to get so lucky?
Tachi sniffled and brought a hand up to his face, wiping a tear away. Ugh, of course the waterworks would come eventually.
“You need to see him again,” Nahida said. “It will hurt, that is true. But that is a fact of life. And there are only so many extra annotations you can add to a book on yakshas before even the margins cannot hold your thoughts anymore.”
“You snooped,” Tachi said through a quivering laugh.
“Just a little, because I was worried.”
“And because you eat up any knowledge you haven’t seen before like a bowl of candied ajilenakh nuts.”
Nahida started to laugh, her voice childlike and airy, as she reached for Tachi’s hand and tugged it downward. This was her way of signaling she wanted a hug, which could only be achieved if Tachi kneeled down enough for her to reach with her soft arms around his shoulders. She squeezed him, a hand going to the back of his head, and pulled him close.
“I love you, Tachiyaku. And whatever happens, I know that you will be able to persevere through it. You have already grown so much from the wanderer I first met so long ago and I am proud of how far you’ve come. Forge ahead with conviction and trust that everything will be alright.”
“I will,” Tachi said, and he felt that conviction inside him alongside an all-consuming determination to set everything right.
He wasn’t scared, nervous, ashamed, or angry. He was just relieved.
Relieved that he didn’t need to say anything else for her to understand completely where he was coming from and where he needed to go.
Tachi never gave Nahida an explicit goodbye. But after their conversation he knew he didn’t need to. She already understood completely what he needed to do and he wasted no more time getting started.
Later that day, he grabbed the few things he had left scattered in his room then slipped away into the cold, rainy night of Sumeru, his eyes set on the distant horizon. He braced himself with an intake of breath he didn’t need then set to walking.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!!
🫂 Ahhhh! That was still as deliciously emotional as the first time I wrote it (at least to me)! A lot of my favorite dialogue was in this chapter, so I hope you liked it! (Can you guess which line I liked most? Hint: All of Nahida's, haha!)
Let me know how you're feeling!! Part 1 only has one chapter left before it breaks into Part 2 (of 4)!
Chapter 11: Festering Dawn
Summary:
Tachi asks Zhongli for guidance as his reunion with Xiao approaches.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Several weeks later…
Tachi arrived at Liyue Harbor in early morning.
The fishermen were already awake down by the harbor, tossing thick rolls of rope to each other. Some hauled in fish from trips they’d taken out to sea while others thumped across the boardwalk in their boots, carrying nets of their quarry slung over their shoulders.
It felt good to be awake this early even if the merchants were still bleary-eyed from their morning breakfasts and not quite ready to barter or pitch sales to customers.
Tachi wasn’t here for them anyway. He had his eyes set on the funeral parlor.
Ferrylady was inside working when Tachi knocked on the door. Her face appeared framed between the door and the wall to the entrance of the building, the door just barely cracked open, which was rather suspicious but nonetheless expected given her line of work.
“How can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m looking for Zhongli. Is he in yet?” Tachi asked.
“No. He has the day off,” Ferrylady said.
“Understood. I’ll get going then.”
Tachi turned on his heel and made to walk away when he heard her voice in his ear once more.
“Wait,” Ferrylady called. “You’re going to his house? How do you know where he lives?”
When Tachi turned around, he saw grave lines of tension drawn across her brow. She didn’t look overly convinced that he wasn’t trying to murder Zhongli, so he said, “We’re close friends. You remember me from two years ago, don’t you? The guy in the coffin.”
A light of recognition went off in her eyes and she nodded.
Tachiyaku straightened his spine, adjusted the trinkets dangling from his clothing, and delivered three rapid knocks to Zhongli’s door.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Four stone lanterns — two on each side — lined a gravel path leading up to the geo archon’s house. A small bird flitted from one of these lanterns and onto the green-stoned tiles on the top of the roof. For lack of anything else to do, Tachi watched it hopping around on its tiny feet.
A moment later, the door opened, revealing Zhongli on the other side dressed in a white bathrobe.
His eyes fell upon Tachi and he paused, his eyes widening.
“Good morning, sir. Mind if I come in?”
Zhongli’s house looked about what Tachi expected. The living room was decorated to high heaven with random knick knacks that probably held some sort of sentimental value. That, or they had come with the house and Zhongli had been too lazy to mix up the decor.
The dining area was just ahead of him so he strolled into the room and held his hands behind his back, analyzing the paintings that lined the walls and the disappointingly bland taste in furniture.
“I did not know you were back in Liyue,” Zhongli said. “What brings you back after such a long time?”
He stepped into the kitchen, his hand reaching for the tea kettle. How predictable.
“Traveler said that Xiao wasn’t feeling well,” Tachi said. He crossed his arms and extended a hand. “It’s quite a long story. You might want to be sitting down before I tell the rest.”
“There is no need to rush the conversation,” Zhongli said. “We have all morning.”
Zhongli had not been expecting a visitor, that much was evident. Tachiyaku had developed more patience since the last time they had seen one another. As he waited on the tea, Tachi defaulted to lounging on a settee in the living room with the yaksha book he had brought with him.
Once the tea was safely on the burner, Zhongli excused himself to go get dressed. He shortly returned in his usual clothing and joined Tachi in the living room. He sat across from Tachi, the coffee table between them.
Tachi closed his book and snapped his fingers, sending it to his small pocket dimension. Of what he’d read about while under Nahida’s watch, he’d learned some things about adeptal arts, including the way they used teapots to store things. He’d used similar magic to make a pocket for himself to store belongings, though it was not at all as extensive as real adeptal abilities.
“You say that Xiao has not been doing well,” Zhongli said.
“Yes, that’s right. In fact, Traveler told me he’s killing himself.”
There was no point mincing words. Definitely not with Zhongli.
Zhongli’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t say anything.
“I came because I need your help,” Tachi said. “I need your advice. You’re the only one I can turn to.”
“I presume you rediscovered your past,” Zhongli said.
“That’s right,” Tachi said. “My name is Tachiyaku now. But I have gone by many names, each one more eminent than any mortal could imagine. In the past, I was known as Scaramouche, sixth of the Fatui Harbingers under the codename ‘Balladeer.’”
Zhongli didn’t look fazed by this information. Or if he was, he did a good job of hiding it.
“The one thing I wanted more than anything was to ascend to the status of a god,” Tachi said. “However, someone interfered with those plans. The reason neither you nor I remember any of that is because I had attempted to erase myself from existence using Irminsul.
“I ultimately failed, obviously, but I still relived my whole life through the lens of a puppet with no memories. It was not until I returned to Sumeru that Lesser Lord Kusanali helped me restore my previous memories.”
“You still remember Xiao,” Zhongli said.
“Very much.”
“And you are asking for my help.”
“Yes,” Tachi said. He bowed his head. “You have known Xiao for years. Whatever advice you could impart upon me on how to handle our reunion would be appreciated.”
The tea kettle in the kitchen interrupted them with a high-pitched screech and Zhongli stood.
“Let us continue this discussion over breakfast, shall we?”
Tachi sat across from Zhongli at the breakfast table and plucked a dumpling from his plate. Zhongli had made them with meat fillings, the smell strong enough to make his mouth water. Of all the people Tachi knew, he appreciated Zhongli’s relationship with food the most.
“Tell me about your time in Sumeru,” Zhongli said.
“I hate myself a little less than I had when I first got my memories back, so that’s good,” Tachi said. He stared at his chopsticks; the set he held in his hand was engraved with one word: Wanmin.
“It has not been an easy journey. The days following the memory recovery were very… uncomfortable, to say the least. Mochou and Scaramouche didn’t get along very well,” Tachi said with a laugh.
“Interesting,” Zhongli said. “And how did you handle these feelings?”
“I thought about Xiao a lot. I thought about what sort of person I wanted to become to be worthy enough to be in his presence again,” Tachi said. “But I’m still not satisfied with where I am. I’ve always wondered, did I ever have a chance to shape my fate at all, or was that out of my hands from the second I was created? Was I always going to be evil? Would I ever see myself as ‘good enough’?”
Zhongli frowned and Tachi finally acknowledged the dumpling at the end of his chopsticks. He chewed on the first dumpling and swallowed; it had already gone cold.
“I see that you have been reflecting on this for a long time,” Zhongli said.
“Two years, in fact,” Tachi said.
“That is a long time to have left Xiao waiting.”
“In the eyes of a god, is it really?” Tachi asked. “I would have come sooner had I thought myself ready. But it turns out that processing hundreds of years of trauma takes some time.”
“That is indeed a lot for you to have experienced in such a short matter of time,” Zhongli said. “It’s quite brave of you to show your face after everything that has happened.”
“I do wish circumstances were different,” Tachi said. “But we aren’t always given the most ideal circumstances.”
“I knew that Xiao was not feeling well but it’s concerning to hear that his condition has gotten worse. If you had come sooner, this situation could have been avoided altogether.”
“I know. And I’m sorry for that,” Tachi said.
“Xiao is fiercely loyal to those he is close with, but given what has happened to you, I am uncertain how he will react,” Zhongli said. “You are not the Mochou whom he misses so. And if his accrued karma has begun to worsen, it may cause him to experience more frequent behavioral disruptions.”
“What are you getting at?” Tachi asked.
Zhongli paused to bring his cup of tea to his mouth. He took a long sip then put it back down. When he looked at Tachi again, his eyebrows rested low over his eyes.
“The life of a yaksha is a perilous one. If they do not cleanse the negative karma they have accrued, it has the potential to consume them. Many have been driven to madness by it — forced to perform acts outside their control.
“This is because, as the negative karma eats away at them, they begin to lose themselves to it. Psychosis and other conditions dig their roots deep inside of the afflicted and make it nearly impossible to escape.”
“You think the same might be happening to Xiao,” Tachi said.
He stared at Zhongli from across the table, his chopsticks forgotten on his plate.
“It was ignorant of me to assume that because he has lasted this long he would be impervious to the same fates that befell his comrades,” Zhongli said. “I can only hope he can forgive me for my negligence.”
“Is there any way to prevent it?” Tachi asked.
“It’s a losing battle,” Zhongli said. “Although the remedium tertiorum and meditation help to calm the storm in many cases, there comes a point where such methods are not enough to overpower the karmic debt.”
“But that’s how it is usually handled,” Tachi said. “He has to resolve the karma within himself to cleanse it.”
“That is easier said than done,” Zhongli said. “As mentioned before, the typical method of approach is meditation. But it takes a great deal of concentration and only one with a sound soul and pure heart can hope to make any progress with such a method.”
“There has to be another way,” Tachi said.
“If there is, I have not heard of it,” Zhongli said. “Still, I must beseech you. Please help him in any way you can. I cannot bear to send another adepti off to an early grave.”
“I will try my best,” Tachi said. “I promise.”
Zhongli pushed his chair back and stood. “Please excuse me for a second.”
Tachi took another sip of his tea while he waited for Zhongli to return. Zhongli approached Tachi’s side carrying a small cloth satchel and a yellow slip of paper. Tachi recognized the paper as a Sigil of Permission — he had read about it in a book back in Sumeru.
“You may have a need for this in the future,” Zhongli said. “The adepti will not harm you so long as you carry this token.”
Was that really necessary? Tachi couldn’t imagine Xiao hurting him. But still.
“Thank you,” Tachi said.
“And here is Xiao’s medicine. Please take this with you.”
“I will make sure it gets delivered safely to him,” Tachi said.
“I feel it pertinent to remind you that Xiao made a contract with me to protect Liyue. Whatever his condition, Xiao stands steadfast beside that contract, even knowing it will inevitably be his downfall.”
Tachi’s lips screwed into a grimace.
“You must not take responsibility for actions outside your control. That contract is an immutable fact and one forged long before your involvement in our affairs.”
The words were factual yet nonetheless cruel. Callous. Not surprising, then, that they were coming from an archon’s mouth.
“I understand,” Tachi said.
That had not been, after all, what he was thinking at all. But good of Zhongli to nonetheless plant the seed inside his mind.
“Thank you for coming to see me,” Zhongli said. “This has been one of the most enlightening conversations I have had in a while.”
“Me too.”
“And it is good to see you alive and well.”
“Well, I’m one of those things,” Tachi said with a wry smirk.
With Tachi’s business with Zhongli complete, Tachi started the journey toward Wangshu Inn.
Distances that used to feel insurmountable to his pair of feet felt like nothing with his vision. He could float, he could fly. He could feel the breeze whipping through his hair, pulling the worries from his mind and replacing them, if ever briefly, with the taste of freedom.
The journey still stretched on overnight but it was laughably speedy compared to the typical five days it would have taken a mortal.
It was dawn when Mochou saw Wangshu Inn in the distance through the haze of listlessness. Morning fog still settled around the surrounding water, shrouding the bottom of the towering building in white mist.
Tachi wanted to run to it. He wanted to fly or teleport, but instead he took deliberate steps in that direction. It was stupid — he had rushed all the way here only to finally get cold feet when it mattered.
He needed the time to process and mentally prepare himself for whatever was ahead. To dive into something without thinking ahead first would be foolish.
The walk really would be quite boring under normal circumstances but anticipation kept Tachi on his toes. He encountered some pigeons along the road who left him alone and some electro cicins who didn’t, though they were easy enough to take care of.
He was only down the road, watching the elevator as it lifted guests up to their room, when he spotted Xiao.
He was sitting on the roof, a thin silhouette outlined in the bright morning sky.
Tachi’s ears popped, his body tensed all over, and a shiver of trepidation ran through him. He had not felt this way since his last fight with Traveler.
“You have changed.”
Xiao’s voice was cold and more gravelly than Tachi remembered. Xiao had teleported to just behind him, his voice sharp in Tachi’s ear.
That wasn’t the only thing, however.
“What was your first clue?” Tachi asked, attempting to play off a more lighthearted tone, as he made to turn around.
He felt the sting of Xiao’s spear at the back of his neck and froze. Oh, this was going to be interesting.
“You smell of death,” Xiao said.
Tachi rotated his head just enough to see Xiao in his peripheral vision. He glimpsed dark shadows, mussed hair, and a murderous flash in Xiao’s golden eyes.
“Tell me what you did to Mochou,” Xiao growled.
“He got his memories back.”
Xiao shook his head, his eyes wide, and pulled the spear back.
“You liar,” he spat through gritted teeth, then dropped into a stance and readied his weapon. “Give him back to me.”
Notes:
I promise, promisee no more waiting!! Double chapters this week so you can have instant gratification!
Thank you for reading 💕 (I love Zhongli)
Chapter 12: Fissures at Sunrise
Summary:
Tachi and Xiao meet. Tachi arranges a meeting with a certain adeptus.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Part II: Festering Past, Dawning Future
Xiao wasn’t sure what time it was when he returned to Wangshu Inn.
He teleported onto the roof, not wanting a human to see whatever state he’d put himself in.
It was seemingly morning, the cold bite of the air sharp on his sensitive skin. He’d suffered only minor injuries from the fight he’d just wrapped up, but each scratch felt like someone yanking at the frayed ends of his hair.
He collapsed onto the roof tiles and drew in a shaky breath. It was still morning. He could go out again.
But if he did, he might not come back.
He could barely stand. His mind swarmed with voices like bees in a beehive, aggressive as they swallowed out all other sounds. The muscles in his hands had become numb, making it difficult to do more than grip his spear as tightly as he could and hope that he didn't drop it.
So, this was what his life had become.
Xiao wanted to meditate. He wanted to shut up the voices in his head and bask, for once, in silence. But that had not been possible for him in… in such a long time he couldn’t even remember how long ago.
If the only way to achieve that would be eternal rest, then why delay it any longer? Every day, every second, the karma was getting worse.
It hurt. He hurt. He just wanted it to all be over.
Xiao brought up a shaking hand and ran his fingers through his hair. Each touch to his scalp felt like someone carving out the flesh on his skull.
You could see him again. It would be simple. Just one stray stab from a pronged spear through the heart—
“Just… quiet,” Xiao snapped.
He felt like he was going to throw up.
This was not the first time he had felt this all-consuming pain, although it was the first time it had stretched on for so long. Minutes, days, hours… they all blurred together like his eyes on the horizon, trying to steady his breath enough to feel like he wasn’t about to vomit or fall off the roof completely.
Xiao’s eyes caught on something in the distance.
His thoughts exploded into an uproar.
No. No, no, no. There is no way. That is inconceivable.
That blue hat, adorned with the delicately crafted metalwork. The long, white sleeves. The shorts. The bright red flash of a familiar knot over the chest.
Mochou… Mochou had returned?
But he left me. He left me, and now he is back? But how could that be?
He’s not back. That is an imposter. Mochou left a long time ago.
You are seeing things. There’s nobody there.
Xiao reached up and rubbed his eyes, the sockets sore, and opened them again.
But the figure was not an illusion.
This was all one bad nightmare that Xiao wished he could wake from. He rose from his seat, closed his eyes, and teleported.
The sun burned on Xiao’s skin when he appeared behind the stranger.
His spear was heavy in his grip as he yanked it toward the back of the stranger’s neck, pricking the birthmark that he knew rested at the nape below his violet hair.
“You have changed,” Xiao said.
The difference was clearer than night and day. The way the stranger held himself, the way he didn’t even flinch at the spear that pressed against his skin.
“What was your first clue?” he asked.
“You smell of death,” Xiao said.
It was unfortunately familiar. It made his stomach churn and his nose burn.
The stranger turned his head just enough to hold Xiao’s gaze. The eyes that had once held nothing but clear summer skies were like the clash of lightning on a thunderous day.
This man took Mochou from me. Where is Mochou? What has this man done to him?
His face hurts to look at. Why did this happen? How can I make it stop?
“Tell me what you did to Mochou,” Xiao growled.
It was the only thread he had left to grasp onto.
“He got his memories back.”
Xiao shook his head. No. No, he didn’t. If he had, he would have come home by now.
“You liar,” he spat through gritted teeth then dropped into a stance and readied his spear. “Give him back to me.”
The stranger crossed his arms. “I’m not going to fight you. He is me. If you choose not to believe me, then that’s your problem.”
Xiao bit his lip and steadied the shaking in his hands. The stranger’s voice sounded like it was underwater. The world was becoming fuzzy. The white-knuckled grip he usually held onto this karmic debt loosened and he felt it surge over him in a new rain of pain and fear, enough to force an unrestrained cry from his lips.
The stranger’s face melted into blues and purples and tans that Xiao couldn’t decipher. Emotions dragged him down back into the chasm that he had once fought so hard to escape.
He darted forward with his spear, aiming for the chest, hoping that if there was nothing else he could do he could at least fight.
The stranger yanked the spear out of Xiao’s grip, causing him to stumble over his feet.
His eyesight flickered for a second and when he forced his eyes open again, he was staring at the ground.
Inside of him, something snapped. The last thread that had been holding him together unraveled and the karmic debt filled him with numbness. He gave into the all-consuming fear and pain that had been stretching so gradually into his heart.
Bile rose out of his throat and he opened his mouth to let it out.
Why? Just why?
Xiao couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. His quivering arms gave out and he fell into a cold, deep nightmare.
Xiao darted forward with his spear directed at Tachi’s chest. Tachi saw the move coming and Xiao was sluggish enough that Tachi managed to catch the spear before it made contact with him.
He pulled the spear out of Xiao’s hand, expecting Xiao to yank back. But Xiao followed as if his hand were glued to the hilt, up until Tachi angled upward and Xiao dropped onto his knees like a child whose toy had been taken away.
Flashes of black energy pulsed around Xiao. It reminded Tachi of the anemo that burst from his fingertips whenever he flung a scythe of the power at an unfortunate pyro slime. Only this energy was invasive, reminiscent of how Scaramouche used to feel whenever Dottore would conduct experiments on him. Down-to-the-bone chilling and disgusting and wrong. Enough to kill a mortal.
It curled and weaved into Xiao’s hair and around his shaking fingers. Xiao vomited and his arms gave out. Tachi darted forward, quick enough to throw an arm under his chest and keep him from collapsing in the dirt.
Tachi knelt next to Xiao and held him by his shoulders to inspect his face.
He was still breathing — heavily. The energy that had been swarming around him lessened slightly, leaving a trail of itself around Xiao’s body that almost gave the impression that his skin had turned gray.
Tachi took Xiao into his arms and rose. He kept Xiao’s spear held in one hand while the other pressed against Xiao’s side, carrying him as one would a bride, with Xiao’s legs hanging over the side of his arm.
Xiao didn’t weigh as much as Tachi had been expecting. And he was smaller than Tachi had remembered, yet harsher too, as if someone had gone over him and chopped small pieces off to make him look rougher.
The trip to the inn was fast with the help of his windfavored state. Tachi arrived from the side, seeking to avoid the eyes of other people, and entered Xiao’s room to lay him in his bed.
Xiao’s room looked roughly how Tachiyaku remembered it, although there were a few things scattered on the floor, including a knife, the bedsheets, and the old doll Mochou had made him two years ago.
When Tachi opened his arms to let Xiao rest on the mattress, Xiao refused, still clutching to his chest. Tachi shook his head and eased Xiao into his bed, unlatching his hands from him. Xiao lay flat on his back with his eyes closed, though his eyebrows were drawn down on his forehead like he was in pain.
With his hands finally free, Tachi picked up the room. He returned the knife to the assortment of weapons on the far wall, placed the doll on the bedside table, and tucked Xiao into bed with the blanket.
He still looked cold and feeble. If anything, the blanket was simply a cosmetic difference. Xiao shivered, tucking his arms under his head and drawing his knees up to his chest, dragging his dirt-stained shoes across the bed.
Tachi left the room to search for a glass of water. The inn was waking up; Tachi saw guests strolling out of their rooms and downstairs for breakfast. Cheery voices sang in his ears, oblivious to the nerves that settled in Tachi’s stomach as he crossed the outer walkway and entered the building.
The saying goes that “absence makes the heart grow fonder” and Tachi had indeed grown fond of the sound of his footsteps on the wooden staircase as he scaled it up to the front desk.
Verr Goldet didn’t look surprised to see him when he approached. She hadn’t changed much since he had been away, aside from perhaps the squint of her eyes.
“You’re back,” she said. “I had a feeling I would be seeing you again soon.”
“No doubt because Traveler came by recently,” Tachi said.
“So you know the situation.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I need to drop by the kitchen to grab some food and water. But afterward I’d like to have a little conversation with you.”
“I had some questions of my own that I would like answered,” Verr Goldet said. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.”
“Thanks,” Tachiyaku said.
Getting Xiao to swallow medicine while he was unconscious was easier than Tachi had thought.
He’d returned to Xiao’s bedside and supported the back of Xiao’s head high enough to keep him from choking on the water and Remedium Tertiorum as Tachi fed it to him. Xiao’s face remained screwed up in pain but Tachi watched his pale throat contract as it swallowed.
He had never really done this for someone else before. He had sort of gotten used to being kind (or at least tolerating people enough not to want to blast them into next week), but this sort of… ginger way of touching someone was unfamiliar.
Tachi didn’t want it to end. But he had other business to attend to — questions and answers that were not going to be resolved while waiting for Xiao to wake up after an indeterminate amount of time without the rest that he sorely needed.
Before he left, Tachi allowed himself a second to savor the moment. He still intended to say goodbye later, but there was no telling if there would be a better chance to study Xiao’s face.
His wispy dark hair hadn't changed. Neither had Xiao’s small mouth, which was so often set in an unfavorable expression, just like it was now. His cheeks weren’t as filled out as Tachi would have liked. He was probably skipping meals.
Tachi grumbled to himself, recalling all the times Xiao had told him that “adepti don’t need to eat.” It still wasn’t the proper season for almond tofu but the people of Wangshu Inn didn’t care. Smiley Yanxiao had some he’d stored for an occasion like this, and Tachi brought it with him, but he hesitated to wake Xiao for it.
He looked toward the bedside table where he had left the plate and noticed instead the doll he had picked up earlier.
Mochou had barely known what he was doing when he made it. How was it possible that he had no memories and yet still knew to make dolls like that? Even if the resulting product was rough, there was no doubt that muscle memory had given him the sufficient skill to create it.
Could a puppet have muscles? Tachi supposed so. He had a semi-functional nervous system, after all; capable of feeling cold but not the pain that came with it. Although he was grateful for that much, at least.
That was beyond the point. Memories, muscles… they were moot points in the grand scheme of his thoughts. Tachi leaned toward the table and reached for the doll.
“Thank you for finding the time to talk with me,” Tachi said.
“Of course. It would have taken quite a bit to dissuade me from insisting that we talk, after all,” Goldet said.
Tachiyaku sat across from her outside on one of the local balconies. Two children ran past carrying dolls above their heads, shouting something about a game. Tachi leaned backward, running his fingers across the edge of the table.
“I know you must have questions,” Tachi said. “You did so much for me before. In return, I wouldn’t mind clearing up the air a bit.”
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“I’ve been assisting Lesser Lord Kusanali in Sumeru. She helped me recover my memories, and in return, she wanted me to assist her using the knowledge I had gained in my past life.”
“I see,” Goldet said. “And Traveler knew you were there.”
“Yes.”
“You doubtless returned because you heard that Xiao has not been doing well.”
“Yes. And I was going to ask if you had any advice or leads on how the illness might be treated. You’re involved with the Qixing, yes? Then perhaps you could share some of that oh-so useful knowledge with me about how best to help the adepti.”
“Could you keep your voice down? All of Giuli Plains doesn’t need to hear about that,” Goldet said. She leaned forward as if preparing to cover his mouth if he kept it up. “I’m not going to ask how you know that. I only ask that you keep it private. And as for Adeptus Xiao, I’m afraid I won’t be of much help. Not in terms of healing him, anyway.”
“How disappointing.” Tachi grimaced and crossed his arms.
“You’ve developed an attitude since we last spoke,” Goldet said. “I can’t say that I’m not a little disappointed. Regardless, I’m glad to hear that you’re trying to help Adeptus Xiao. Perhaps the other adepti might know something? They reside in the sacred lands known as Jueyun Karst, where few mortals are allowed to venture. But some people still try, either out of stupidity or out of desperation to seek a blessing from them.”
“That is where I planned on going next,” Tachi said. He lifted up a hand and summoned the Sigil of Permission to float above his palm. “I already have security that they will at least not toss me off the mountainside at the first sight of me.”
“If you even encounter one of them,” Goldet said. “It’s rare that an adeptus will allow a person to meet with them. They have their ways of concealing themselves and blocking off the entrances to their homes to keep people from entering. You will have to leave it up to fate on this one.”
Tachi scoffed. “I don’t need to depend on fate when there are much more reliable things in this world.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “Thank you for agreeing to speak with me today. I really should be heading out now.”
“Have you spoken with Xiao?” Goldet asked.
“Barely. He’s resting in his room now.”
“I hope that you’re able to help him. I wish you good luck on your journey.”
“Thanks.”
“I trust you know which direction you have to go?”
“To the west. There’s a path that leads straight there.”
“Correct.”
The walk from Guili Plains to Jueyun Karst was fairly boring. Xiao had been doing a good job of keeping the area clean; Tachi scarcely saw a blade of grass out of place for half the walk.
Everything felt so warm in Liyue. The orange-leaved trees, finally regrowing some vegetation as spring approached. The brown squirrels and yellow-stomached birds. Even the grass, which in Sumeru was rich greens and blues, had a tint of yellow here. This truly was the land of the geo archon, whose stray touch remained on even the smallest pebble.
Tachi had just passed an old wooden road sign and was approaching a small wooden bridge when he heard a high-pitched voice in the distance saying his name.
“Is that… Tachiyaku?” Paimon’s voice called like an annoying scratch in his ear.
He turned to look up at the source of the sound. Traveler and Paimon stood on a chunk of rock just a little above his head and off to the side of the pathway. They had obviously just teleported here, as evidenced by the dull blue glow of the waypoint at Traveler’s shoulder.
Traveler smiled, the expression bringing more warmth. Paimon left a trail of stars behind her as she floated just a little closer.
“Hmm, Paimon wonders what you could be doing in Liyue,” Paimon said.
Tachi crossed his arms. “Don’t play your games with me. I’m busy.”
“Have you spoken to Xiao?” Traveler asked.
Tachi nodded. “He’s resting now. I’ve got other business I have to attend to in the meantime.”
“All the way out here? What could you have to do that’s so important?” Paimon asked.
“Jueyun Karst?” Traveler asked.
“Yes,” Tachi said.
“Good luck.”
I don’t need luck, Tachi thought to say, but bit his tongue.
“I’ll be seeing you,” Tachi said.
He continued his struts in the direction of Jueyun Karst, leaving the pair in the dust.
Verr Goldet had been all too right about the adepti and their secretive ways.
Although Tachi thought he could pull off an innocent’s face well enough when he tried, that would not be enough to fool an adeptus. Xiao, too, had sensed from the first second with him that he had changed.
His hands were tainted with dried blood that no amount of scrubbing was going to erase away. The adepti knew that just as well as he did and had rightfully sealed themselves away from him.
He tried the hills. He tried the forested area. He wandered around the whole damn place but couldn’t sense a single shift on the wind that might have suggested that he was even being watched. Were they sleeping? What gives?
Tachi had made it to Mt. Aocang, the cogs in his brain whirring, when he looked down below and saw a stone table and chairs. No normal humans minded their time here; this dinner set had to belong to an adeptus.
Tachi flew down to get a closer look and read the labels on the seats. One “Rex” definitely sounded familiar. His eyes drifted over to the nearby campfires and a wry smile tugged at his lips. More cooking. His favorite.
Tachi tilted his wrist downward, carefully sliding a plate of bountiful year onto the table. Fresh, thinly sliced fish had been arranged into a flower on the plate, surrounded by the sides of vegetables that Tachi had labored over.
Next was the adeptus’ temptation, which made a thud as Tachi placed it on the table in all its gilded-pot glory. He had made it purely because of its namesake, which had been a foolish mistake, as it had taken several hours to cook and was beginning to wear on Tachi’s nerves. This better be worth it.
Lastly was universal peace, a dish he had learned how to make from Smiley Yanxiao. After the other two dishes, he needed something that didn’t eat up five hours of his life.
To celebrate, Tachi brewed himself a pot of bitter tea, sat down in “Rex’s” seat, and waited for something to happen.
In the distance, he heard the shimmer of a seal opening. He turned his head, watching as the barrier disappeared.
Tachi abandoned the food and approached the cave, shooting into a hover to avoid getting his shoes wet on the half-submerged stone walkway. Lilies and lotus flowers swayed as he passed, scaled the staircase, and dropped back onto his feet in front of a stone door. Specks of elemental power floated up like seeds scattered from a dandelion. Tachi pushed the doors open and stepped into the space on the other side, feeling the ground shift beneath him.
This was definitely a domain belonging to an adeptus. Tachi took one look at the rocks beneath his feet, woven together by thick, mangled roots. Unlit stone lanterns decorated the entrance to the first floating platform that Tachi found himself on.
He listened to the creaking of earth as other platforms floated in the distance. Tree roots swayed below, the trees themselves almost glowing with their bright yellow and lime-colored leaves.
One senses a very interesting presence indeed… one hesitates to allow you in, but one will grant you an opportunity given you have brought with you a Sigil of Permission. One cannot understate one’s appreciation for the offerings you have brought.
Tachi resisted a roll of his eyes at the voice that floated into his ear.
“I’m not here for your amusement,” Tachi said.
One did not think you were. It does not matter. Navigate mine abode and you shall receive an audience with the adeptus whom you seek.
The only person whose instructions Tachiyaku obeyed was Nahida. He was not about to play by the rules of some lofty creature who couldn’t even properly introduce themself.
Tachi flexed the joints in his wrist, took one more look at the path ahead of him, and shook his head.
“Alright, I guess I have no choice.”
Tachi quickly grew tired of slaying slimes, activating cubes that rotated light-filled bridges, and solving puzzles that required more patience than he had available. The adeptus had said nothing about solving puzzles, only navigating their abode, which he succeeded just fine at by using the windfavored state to his advantage.
Speak nothing of the one time the energy had almost dried up right before he could land on his desired platform, causing him to grapple onto the roots dangling below the floating chunk of rock before regenerating enough power to shoot back up onto more stable ground.
Gradually, one platform at a time, he worked toward the top. He slayed what monsters he could, mostly as a means of stress relief. It was fun to watch the cryo slimes pop in water when filled with a bit of anemo.
When Tachi finally reached the gate at the top, he looked around only to find another half-built wall of stone studded with tree roots and overgrown vegetation. A voice on his left ear drew his eyes to a white crane perched on the top of a tree root.
“One is most impressed. You managed to circumvent half the puzzles in this hallowed place.”
“I like efficiency.”
“Interesting.” The adeptus flapped her wings and glided down to perch in front of Tachi. “The one before you is known as the adeptus Cloud Retainer. Speak of the matter which brings you here.”
“I came here to seek your knowledge. Adeptus Xiao has fallen ill and I need answers as to what will make him better again.”
“One has no knowledge about such things.”
Tachi crossed his arms. “Really. Even though he’s a fellow adeptus?”
“The things that ail him are not matters pertaining to the adepti but instead of the yaksha.”
“So you’re saying you’ll let him die.”
“How discourteous! One grants you an audience and you have the audacity to twist one’s words so quickly!”
“What can I say? I just tell it like it is. If you don’t like it, then that’s your problem.”
“One never said anything about allowing the young adeptus to die,” Cloud Retainer said. “One simply does not have the knowledge nor resources to be of much help.”
“I suppose that’s to be expected if you spend all your time holed up in here,” Tachi said.
“Do you want mine help or not?” Cloud Retainer asked. She flapped her wings once, spurring up a gust that flicked Tachi’s hair into his eyes. “You are treading on thin ice. One more misstep and one will have you tossed out.”
“Understood,” Tachi said. “So. Do you have any advice or not?”
“Not for one as arrogant as you,” Cloud Retainer said. “One worries for the young adeptus if this is the company he chooses to keep.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Tachi asked. “I am the least of your worries. Did you not hear me earlier? He’s dying.”
“The young adeptus has been on a downward trajectory for some time now. He will figure it out eventually; resilient types such as him always do.”
“I’m sick of everyone thinking this is something he can handle on his own just because he doesn’t tell anyone about it,” Tachi said. “Dying quietly isn’t honorable; it just lets others feign ignorance or uninvolvement.
“The fact that you still pretend everything is okay when it isn’t just proves how quickly you and everyone else is to let him flounder in his problems alone when given the chance.”
“One has known the young adeptus longer than you have been alive,” Cloud Retainer said. “Do not speak of such matters as if you understand them better than us.”
“That’s funny, because I was never alive to begin with,” Tachi snapped. “But your old bird eyes probably couldn’t pick that up. I’m very good at keeping information out of the hands of people who haven’t earned it.”
“Enough,” Cloud Retainer said. She flapped her wings again, summoning a gust of wind powerful enough to knock Tachi nearly onto his butt, a leg shooting backward to keep himself anchored.
A vortex in the center of the room began to form, swirling with anemo that yanked Tachi’s kimono off his shoulders. He stumbled toward it, gritting his teeth as he glared in Cloud Retainer’s direction, his hat hitting the ground with a dull thump.
“One grows tired of this conversation. Do not visit here again,” Cloud Retainer stated, then shot up into the sky as the cyclone sucked Tachi into its eye.
Notes:
THANK YOU SO MUCH for reading!!! If you enjoyed, please let me know!! Your comments are the fuel that keeps this writer running!!
A little housekeeping:
- I want to let readers know in advance that there's going to be some injury involved to a certain someone, and when the time comes, I'll be including spoilers that can be toggled in case any readers out there want to be surprised while others can know what's coming. They will look like this. Since it only lasts for half of part II, I don't think I'll be including it in the story tags.
- I'm on twitter @SarunoH!! I talk about this fic there sometimes!!! The brainrot is real. Or you can chat with me on Discord @SarunoHadaki#5024 (Usernames are being swapped out rn but atm I'm still sarunohadaki#5024!!!)
- There will be more Xiao POV eventually I promise 😭 I say this like it isn't a slowburn, so it's still going to be a few weeks (in posting time) but then we will have loooots of Xiao!!
- Thank you for reading, as always! Art was inspired heavily by Witch Hat Atelier (which is, coincidentally, why this chapter wasn't posted this morning! :0 Pray for my shoulder <3) (P.S., all the trinkets in the art might just be a hint as to what's in the future!)
Chapter 13: Stray Note's Song Pt. I
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Xiao woke to a sweet smell in his nose. It felt as if someone had reached into the tangled, black thoughts of his mind and dug through them, finding the one nugget at its center that was still semi-capable of coherent thought.
His thoughts were still clouded when he woke. He was confused — confused as to how he wasn’t dead, where he was, and even when he was, although Traveler sitting on the side of his bed provided enough of an answer.
And then Xiao remembered recent events, namely Mochou, and the nugget of light began to fade.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Paimon asked.
Among the other voices in his head, hers felt soft. Welcome.
“I’m… awake,” Xiao said. He reached up and touched his forehead, a strike of pain running through him. Such a gentle touch and yet it felt like his skull was being split open. The voices didn’t like it, either.
“You should eat,” Paimon said, gesturing to his shoulder.
Xiao’s eyes fell onto the plate sitting at his shoulder and he reached over to take it into his lap. There was no guarantee that whatever he ate would stay down but he had to try. His stomach felt like it was eating itself.
“Tachiyaku had Smiley Yanxiao make it for you and everything!”
Xiao’s first chopstick of tofu was already halfway to his mouth when he asked, “Who?”
Paimon laughed and knocked a hand against her skull. “Oh yeah, Paimon forgot! You don’t really know him by that name, do you? You know him as Mochou.”
Xiao’s throat closed up around a piece of tofu and he choked it down. It settled like a stone at the bottom of his stomach. He reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and took a gulp that felt like acid burning down his throat.
Ah. So his torment wasn’t over yet.
Mochou left a long time ago. He didn’t come back for us. Why did he give you food, yet left before you could wake? Are we simply not important enough to spare the trouble?
Xiao dropped his eyes onto Traveler, shaking the thoughts from his mind. “You spoke with him?”
“Yeah!” Paimon said. “We ran into him while he was on his way to Jueyun Karst!”
“He went where?”
“Jueyun Karst?” Paimon repeated.
Xiao stood, his body reeling at the sudden shift, his head going dizzy.
“Did Paimon say something weird?” Paimon asked.
“Xiao—”
Traveler started, their voice tinged with warning, but it was too late. Xiao had already closed his eyes, summoned his spear, and focused his energy on teleporting away.
Xiao’s first guess was right. He arrived at Mt. Aocang and approached the table outside Cloud Retainer’s domain, noticing the freshly cleaned dishes of food laid out for her.
He heard the whir of anemo coming from Cloud Retainer’s domain and took a step closer, just out of range of the tornado of anemo that tore down the stone steps, carrying the purple-haired stranger with it.
The anemo dissipated as it reached the pond, dumping him unceremoniously in the water. Everything broke the surface at once, creating a discordant racket in Xiao’s ears as the splash met his legs and all of Tachi’s amulets and metal knocked together.
Tachiyaku cursed, shoving his hair back enough to clear his eyes and register Xiao standing over him.
“Well, if you’ll look who it is,” Tachi said.
He didn’t sound pleased. Well, neither was Xiao.
“You need to leave this place,” Xiao said.
“I had come to say goodbye anyway. So this works out quite nicely for me.”
“State what business you had with Cloud Retainer.”
“Can’t you guess? I don’t see much point in spelling it out.”
“If you are thinking of helping me, then think again. My karmic debt—“
“— ‘Is my burden to carry.’ I know that,” Tachi snapped. He reached out, tearing a lotus head up by its stem. He stood, tossing it onto the stone pathway beside him. It hit the ground with a wet splat. “Those words used to echo around in that empty head of mine enough to nearly drive me insane.”
Trepidation bubbled up into Xiao’s mouth. The energy drooled out of him as he gripped his spear tightly enough to wring a hilichurl’s neck.
“You do not respect me,” Xiao said. “Not like Mochou had. Do you understand me at all?”
“I understand you enough to know that you’re hurting and you’re doing that thing where you won’t let anyone get close enough to help you,” Tachi said. He gestured to Xiao, glancing down from his feet to the top of his head. “Look at you. You’re barely able to stand. If you just let me help—”
“I do not need help,” Xiao interrupted. “Least of all from a stranger.”
“I know how it feels to have people leave you to grapple with your problems alone. Look at what it’s doing to you! And you’re just going to let it eat away at you? This is not the fate that you deserve after the countless sacrifices you’ve made for people who will never even know about them.”
“You almost sound like you care,” Xiao said.
“Of course I do.”
“I do not understand. You left. You could not even bother with a letter. Why come now? Why come when it is too late?” Xiao asked. “You say you don’t want me to deal with this alone, and yet I have been, for two years. Why did you not come sooner?”
He took a step forward, dragging the karmic debt with him. He watched it settle around Tachi in the way his eyes narrowed.
The thoughts swarming Xiao’s mind picked up their frequency. The same doubts and insecurities he had felt about Mochou before cropped up once more, so strong as to make Tachi’s voice almost a whisper among them.
“I wanted to be someone who could look you in the eye without feeling ashamed.”
“Hah,” Xiao scoffed. “If you were truly someone who cared, you would have come sooner. All I see before me now is a man pleading for a second chance that he does not deserve.”
Xiao heard Traveler’s shoes tromping in the dirt, each footstep a knock against his temple. His forehead throbbed with pain and he reached up to touch it only to feel another sting from his fingers.
“Let me—” Tachi started.
Xiao closed his eyes and jerked away from Tachi. Tachi hadn’t even touched Xiao yet but he could feel the painful shadow of Tachi’s hands on his skin.
“Don’t touch me,” Xiao hissed. He threw his eyes onto Tachi again, a renewed vigor making his skin burn. “I needed you and you left me. You promised to come back and you didn’t. You are filled with nothing but lies and empty promises. What a fool I was for ever thinking that you cared about me.”
“I do care.”
Xiao turned his back on Tachi, Traveler, and Paimon, closing his eyes to the world. The sunlight hurt too much. He was beginning to feel his teeth grind just from hearing Tachi’s voice.
“Shut up. Just shut up. If I hear another lie from your lips, they will be the last words you speak.”
“Xiao…” Paimon’s voice bubbled up from under the chorus of voices in his ears.
“Do not come looking for me. I want to be alone.”
Xiao forced his body to move. It didn’t want to go with him, each limb heavy as if it had been soaked in molasses, but he forced the muscles in his legs to spring into a jump toward a nearby cliff. His heart sped up, throttling his ribcage, as he leapt once more away from Mt. Aocang.
“Stupid, insufferable little…”
Tachi bent down and picked up his hat from where it had sunk down in the water. He flicked it away from the traveler, hoping that at least one person would be willing to keep his company if he didn’t soak them in water.
The hat was still waterlogged when he dropped it back onto his head but it didn’t really matter. He was a mess. Completely soaked down to his shoes and all the worse for it.
“What did you say to Xiao to get him so upset?” Paimon asked.
“I told him I cared about him. But for some reason he doesn’t seem to believe that,” Tachi said. His sarcasm couldn’t be understated.
“Probably cuz you look so angry when you say it,” Paimon said.
“Just give him some time. He’s probably still processing,” Traveler said.
“Uh-huh. And by the time he’s done, he will already be dead,” Tachi said.
“Hey! That’s not a very nice thing to say!” Paimon said. “Paimon thought you cared about him, but when you say stuff like that, Paimon’s not so sure.”
“I don’t want him to die any more than anyone else does,” Tachi said. “But that’s the fact of the matter. We can’t just stand around and expect him to get better on his own when he’s so stubborn.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?” Traveler asked.
“Xiao had once mentioned that there’s a certain archon whose flute-playing saved him before. I’m going to look for them next.”
“Oh! You must mean Tone-Deaf Bard!” Paimon said. “That’s one more lead than Paimon has. Then onwards to Mondstadt!”
“Wait. You’re coming with me?” Tachi asked.
“Well, yeah! We can’t just have you going off on your own!” Paimon said.
“It’s not like I’m going to commit atrocities or anything,” Tachi said. “You don’t need to keep an eye on me.”
“That’s not why we’re coming,” Traveler said. “You’ve never met Venti, right? We could introduce you.”
“And anyway, Xiao is our friend, too! We have to do something!” Paimon said.
“Alright. Then let’s take a waypoint and get out of here,” Tachi said.
“You know how to use the waypoints?” Traveler asked.
“Actually, no. I was hoping you could teach me.”
“I’m not sure if it’s really a power that extends to anyone but myself,” Traveler said. “And it only works with areas that you’ve traveled to before.”
“I’ve been to a Statue of Seven in Mondstadt before,” Tachi said. “Does that count?”
Traveler nodded. “Let’s give it a shot.”
Tachi had not been expecting to be able to use the waypoints. But Traveler brought him to one and showed him how to activate it using the palm of his hand.
Traveler wasn’t from this world. He’d assumed that had a part to play in being able to activate the waypoints that had been dormant before their arrival in Teyvat.
But Tachi definitely felt the difference when he reached out and pressed his hand against the warm stone of the waypoint. Energy rushed under his fingertips, the brand of it familiar to the part of him that had tasted godhood for just a few glorious minutes.
Traveler told him to close his eyes and imagine Mondstadt. They said it helped to envision as many senses as he could think up. Whatever would best paint the image of the city in his mind’s eye.
It wasn’t hard to do. He imagined anemo crystalflies, the rustle of a spring breeze on the trees, and sprawling fields of grass dotted with sweetflowers and dandelions.
He didn’t feel his body moving through space. The only thing he noticed was the shift from the sunlight on his eyelids to darker indigo hues.
When Tachi opened his eyes again, the towering cliffsides and rockfaces of Liyue had been replaced with a flat field of grass and several bushes and trees.
The sun had already set here. Tachi hadn’t realized how much time had passed since he first met Xiao that morning.
“We should probably check into an inn for the night,” Paimon said, tapping a finger against her chin as her eyes landed on Tachi. “Paimon has a feeling you’re gonna start smelling stinky after a while…”
“It’s just water,” Tachi said.
“Still,” Paimon said. “If Venti’s at Angel’s Share like Paimon thinks, Master Diluc probably won’t let you inside looking like that. You’ll get all the barstools wet!”
“The Goth Grand Hotel’s finally clean of the Fatui congregation that was staying there, so you could grab a room there,” Traveler said. “Paimon and I usually stay in my teapot.”
Tachi vaguely remembered Traveler mentioning something about that to him once. So, they, too, used those particular adeptal arts to their advantages. He wondered if Xiao had a teapot, too. What would it look like inside Xiao’s?
“Paimon will lead the way!” she shouted, threw out an arm, and began floating in the direction of Mondstadt.
Tachi crossed his arms and followed, leaving a dripping trail behind him.
Tachi wasn’t used to night being so quiet.
He sat in a tub full of warm water, washing the mud from his toes and scrubbing the grimace off his mouth. His room had come with an en suite bathroom with its own window overlooking the courtyard outside. He had cranked the frosted glass open just a little, allowing a cool breeze in.
A pigeon cooed from a ledge outside his window. He sighed, dunked his head into the water, and nestled it between his folded legs.
He could stay like this and never get out. He wouldn’t, of course, but it was just a thought. His inner mechanisms would stop working before he ever started to choke from lack of oxygen.
Once Tachi had recovered his memories, he resumed his game of “playing human.” He pretended to breathe and joined Nahida at the dinner table each night, often filling his plate with an adequate amount of food in order to make her happy. He went to bed every night, perhaps the only quality of all his faking that he partially appreciated.
Sleeping meant he did not have to consciously contend with his thoughts. It was the quickest and easiest way to pass the time. And sometimes, if he was lucky, it came with a good dream.
Sometimes, Tachi grew tired of pretending. He preferred the truth over putting on an act just to make others happy. Although some of the behavior had become second-nature, as soon as he was alone and aware of it again, he turned it off.
When Tachi got out of the bath, fake breaths didn’t interrupt him. He slipped into his sleeveless black shirt and pulled his shorts back on, doing up the intricately tied bow to keep them rested on his hips.
He had left the rest of his outfit in a washtub to soak in soapy water. He didn’t have the time to clean everything at the moment; he was much more interested in going down to the tavern to meet the anemo archon.
Tachi slipped into his shoes and strutted across the room to the door before hesitating. His eyes drifted once more to the washtub and he twisted on his heel again to return to it.
Tachi adjusted the sash of ornaments that hung off his shoulder, his fingers running over the Liyuan knot that Xiao had made for him. The bright red fibers were slightly damp, though it still held together well. He would feel like a part of him was missing without it, along with his vision and its incessant clinking when he walked.
Traveler and Paimon were waiting for Tachi in the lobby. Chairs lined the farthest wall, the blues of the cushions warmed by the light cast from the crystalline chandelier hanging overhead.
Traveler stood from their seat and led the way out of the lobby and into the night, their footsteps clacking against the cobblestoned paths.
“Isn’t Mondstadt so pretty at night?” Paimon asked.
“Mhm,” Tachi hummed.
“You’re never gonna get along with Venti if you can’t loosen up even a little bit!” Paimon groaned.
“It’s not a matter of getting along with him,” Tachi said. “He doesn’t need to like me to help Xiao.”
“Paimon guesses you’re technically right…”
Traveler stopped at the tavern. People gathered at tables outside, throwing back tankards of drink and laughing. The door was always open, patrons streaming in and out of the entryway.
“Now keep your eyes peeled,” Paimon said. “You’ll know the Tone-Deaf Bard when you see him. There’s no mistaking the sound of his voice.”
Tachi hummed. He could piece together what sort of person he was looking for based on just the nickname alone.
Traveler entered the tavern and Tachi followed, scanning the room for anyone who stood out. The room was too crowded to make out much more than shadows of people bent over tables. The drinks behind the counter glowed amber and gold under the candlelight. Tachi inched closer, a stranger nudging past him to get outside.
“Hey, Master Diluc! Have you seen Venti tonight?”
Paimon floated over to the red-haired man standing behind the counter. He plugged a cork into a bottle, turned around, and nudged another wine bottle aside to make room for it on a full shelf.
“He has not been in tonight. Maybe try tomorrow.”
“What?” Paimon asked. “That’s impossible! Doesn’t he basically live here?”
“Half of what that man does doesn’t make sense to me,” Diluc said. “But it’s true that this place is like a magnet that draws him in every night. Wait a few days and I’m sure he’ll be back.”
“We can’t wait that long,” Tachi said. “Do you have any clue where he might be now?”
“No,” Diluc said. “He keeps his own schedule.”
“And he hasn’t been behaving out of the ordinary lately,” Tachi said.
“Now that you mention it…” Diluc stroked his chin, casting his eyes onto the countertop. “He has been a little more subdued than normal. The bar hasn’t been stocked with dandelion wine like this in years.”
“Maybe he’s just getting out of his drinking habit,” Paimon said. “At any rate, it doesn’t sound like less drinking is a bad thing.”
“Yeah,” Traveler said.
“Maybe,” Tachi said. He crossed his arms, tapping a set of fingers against his elbow.
“And what do you think?” Diluc asked, his eyes falling onto Tachi for the first time that whole interaction. “You think there is a different cause for this behavior.”
“Not at all. In fact, I know nothing about him,” Tachi said. “It just seems to me that when a person’s daily routine is disrupted, there’s usually a reason. By the way, where is Mondstadt’s cemetery?”
Diluc’s eyes widened. “Behind the cathedral.”
“Diluc says that Venti doesn’t make any sense, but you sure have your moments, too!” Paimon said. “Why are you asking about the cemetery of all places?”
“I was just curious.”
“A likely story,” Traveler said. “You think that maybe he’s visiting somebody?”
“Possibly.”
“It’s not outside of the question,” Diluc said. “Although I’m not sure who that person could be. He certainly hasn’t been talking about them here.”
“It’s still another place to check,” Traveler said. “Thank you again for the information. We won’t keep you any longer.”
“See you around, Master Diluc!” Paimon said.
“Good luck on your search,” Diluc said.
His eyes lingered on Tachi for a second, an inscrutable expression passing on his face. An interesting feeling passed over Tachi, as if he were in the Abyss again facing off against a lawachurl that wanted to eat his head for breakfast. But then it was just Diluc again, a human who could only puff himself up so much to make himself intimidating. Tachi returned the same look back, noting to remember Diluc for later.
Back outside, Traveler, Paimon, and Tachi walked down the street and found a quieter spot to review what they had learned from Diluc.
“Well, Paimon supposes we have no choice but to try the cemetery…” Paimon gulped, her eyes darting around as if expecting a shadow to be looming behind her shoulder.
“What, afraid of ghosts?” Tachi asked. “What an inconsequential thing to be scared of.”
“Hey! It’s not inconsequential!” Paimon shouted. “You haven’t been through everything Paimon has during our journey!”
“At any rate, let’s give it a shot,” Traveler said.
They walked up one flight of steps, then another, and another. This, at least, was a thing that Mondstadt and Sumeru had in common: elevation.
They walked around the side of the towering cathedral and toward the back. Tachi kept a sharp eye on the expanse of trimmed grass and headstones, but as expected, the cemetery was empty.
Traveler passed through a metal archway and entered the cemetery. Trees, bushes, and flowers dotted the plots of land, which surprised Tachi. You’d think someone would tend to the graves better than that.
The path led to the center and continued onto the other side, wrapping around the whole backside of the cathedral. The shape reminded Tachi of an eye and its pupil.
“This is it?” Tachi asked. “Doesn’t seem like a very large cemetery given how many people are living in Mondstadt.”
“These aren’t all the graves,” Traveler said. “There’s a larger cemetery outside the city.”
“Makes sense.”
“Well? Do you see anything?” Paimon asked. “Let’s take a look…”
She floated to a corner of the cemetery, leaving trails of light behind her. The magic fell and sparkled on the grass like melting snow. Tachi glanced over the wrought iron fence, ink black in the night, before his eyes fell on the largest grave. A bouquet of flowers had been laid down in front of it.
He noticed cecilias, calla lilies, and lamp grass that still glowed faintly under the stars. These had been picked recently. In even a few minutes, that glow would start to fade.
Tachi lifted his head to the headstone. It was larger than the surrounding markers, a large pillar with writing inscribed on its face. It read, “To those who sacrificed their lives so we could have a brighter future. May the winds of freedom blow you home.”
“This one isn’t a grave but a monument,” Traveler said. “It’s called a cenotaph.”
They reached into their pocket and brought out a silk flower to place down beside the bouquet.
“This one remembers the people who were killed in the uprising against Decarabian.”
“Interesting,” Tachi said. Then the anemo archon had been involved somehow? He had to assume so. No archon was without a history of at least some tragedy.
“Quick, activate your Elemental Sight,” Paimon said. “This has Venti written all over it! Maybe we can still track him down!”
Traveler brought a hand up to one of their ears and closed their eyes. Nothing about the scene changed at all, but just like with a bloodhound picking up a scent only it could see, Traveler’s eyes fell to the grass and they pointed.
“He went that way,” Traveler said. “Let’s go.”
They were following traces of the anemo archon’s power, which became abundantly obvious after five seconds when Traveler nearly bumped their forehead on a stone wall and lifted their head to a two-story building, explaining that Venti must have scaled it.
Traveler’s anemo powers weren’t as refined as Tachi’s, but they were enough. Tachi followed close behind, careful not to step on their ankles as they hauled themself onto the shingled roof.
“There,” Traveler said, pointing to the city wall in the distance.
Gods, how much easier this would be if Tachi were on his own.
“Enough pointing and more moving,” Tachi said. “We don’t want to lose him.”
He nudged Traveler toward the edge of the roof and they threw their head back, pouting at him. Then they jumped into the air with the help of a burst of anemo, deploying their hanglider to soar toward the outer edges of the city. They hit the lip of the wall and hauled themself onto the walkway on the other side. Tachi flew right over their head and dropped down next to them.
Traveler hopped onto the edge of the wall and jumped once more into the air, soaring down to the grass down below.
Once they made it outside the city walls, there weren’t many places for Venti to hide aside from bushes and trees. Traveler had moments where a spark ignited in their eyes and they picked up the pace, sprinting or leaping into the air toward a tree or cliff that turned up nothing.
They had made it to the Windwail Highlands, the treeline thicker than it had been in the pastures at Windrise.
They stood outside Dawn Winery, Paimon scratching the side of her head. “How does he keep running away from us like this? It always feels like we just almost have him, then he slips out of our grip again!”
Tachi turned his eyes toward the vineyard, catching the flicker of a teal cape behind a row of grapes. His eyes narrowed and he shot into the sky.
“Hey! Where are you—” Paimon shouted.
Her voice disappeared behind Tachi as he flew toward the caped person. He heard the rustle of another bush and darted in that direction next.
The stranger was fast, Tachi would give him that. It had been a long time since he’d had such a thrill. Tachi cleared hills and trees, his hair whipping in the wind as he summoned anemo to rocket him forward, sometimes taking a brief breather on a tree branch or rock to track the person’s movements again.
This sort of thing was not a new game to him. This was just one of the many things Nahida often had him do — hunt down information or people or keep the peace. The difference this time was that the terrain was much flatter. It wasn’t as difficult to get a handle on his target, and since he didn’t need to breathe, keeping up with them was easy.
Tachi landed on another tree branch and crouched down, searching for where Venti had gone next. Traveler caught up to him, Paimon shouting behind them to slow down, as Tachi’s eyes fell on a green cape disappearing behind a boulder.
“He’s starting to tire,” Tachi said. “We’ve got him.”
“He’s not… the only one,” Traveler said through pants.
The figure moved again and Tachi shot into the sky, tearing leaves from the tree. The stranger became a teal blur racing across a dirt path toward a hilichurl village.
They darted into a round wooden house and Tachi followed, only to come face-to-face with three sleepy-eyed hilichurls. An amused giggle floated on the wind as the hilichurls turned around and erupted into a cacophony of growls.
“What did you get us into?” Paimon shouted.
Tachi flung himself across the room and threw his arms out in front of him. He grappled the edge of a window and slid through it. On the other end, above a tree, hung the stranger’s teal cape.
With one hop, Tachi landed on the branch just above him and looked down.
His cheeks were full and pinked from exertion, the braids on each side of his face coming undone. Tachi noticed, too, the flicker of tears at the edges of his eyes, which were illuminated bright blue in the moonlight. But he turned away to conceal them, bringing up an arm to wipe at his face.
Venti sat with his legs drawn up to his chest, his chin resting on his knees.
“You just don’t know— hah— When to leave well enough alone, do you?” Venti asked.
“I need answers, and you’re the only one who can give them to me,” Tachi said. “I’m not afraid to use force if that is what it’ll take.”
“So quickly resorting to threats to get what you want.”
“I- I didn’t mean that,” Tachi said. “I’m not a threat.”
Venti laughed. “And I’m not in a tree.”
“You made your point,” Tachi said. “Let’s start over. My name is Tachiyaku and I need your help.”
“And my name is Venti, a humble bard who, at the present moment, has been run up into a tree,” Venti said. “What is it that you need my help with?”
“I need you to play the flute for me.”
Venti burst into a laugh, the tree branch rustling as a hilichurl in the distance died with one final scream.
“That couldn’t wait until morning?” Venti asked.
“No.”
“I’m afraid it will have to. As evidenced by our chase, I’m not exactly in the mood to get into a conversation right now.”
Tachi sighed. “Really?”
“I was busy with something today. I need some time to rest,” Venti said. “You wouldn’t force little old me to play songs for you in the middle of the night, would you?”
Tachi took another look at him, opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. He shook his head.
Venti had spent the day mourning someone important to him. Chasing him all the way out here had been a mistake; Venti had barely had the time to cover up the tracks of tears on his cheeks before Tachi accosted him.
Tachi was aggressive, it was true. When he wanted something, he would stop at nothing to get it. And he wanted Xiao to get better more than anything in the world. But this wasn’t the way to achieve that.
Tachi slid off his tree branch and landed in the grass. He heard an explosion in the distance.
“Come find me in the morning,” Venti said. “We can talk then.”
“Understood,” Tachi said.
Venti spared no more time escaping, the tree giving one final rustle before he disappeared into the night. Tachi turned around and approached the hilichurlan encampment again, bumping into Traveler before he had gotten very far.
They strutted right up to him, their eyes glowing as if lit from behind with pyro. Ash dusted their left cheek and they lifted their sword, Tachi straightening his spine as he awaited a strike—
—Before they sheathed the blade in the scabbard hanging from their hip. Ah.
“That was pretty mean of you to force us to face all those hilichurls alone!” Paimon shouted.
“That’s cute that you think you helped,” Tachi said.
He turned back toward Traveler and frowned. Paimon was right. It had been rude of him to force them to fight the monsters on their own. Had it been worth pursuing Venti tonight knowing he could have just waited another day for a more opportune moment? Tachi still had a lot to learn about patience, it seemed.
Tachi removed the hat from his head and bowed. That was one of the only Inazuman customs he felt comfortable enough to deploy, and he made the bow deep, indicative enough of how genuine his apology was.
“I’m sorry.”
“Wow,” Paimon said. Tachi lifted his head again and caught the shock in her eyes. Then she shook her head and set her hands on her hips. “Don’t think you can get out of this so easily with just a little apology! You’re gonna have to prove you mean it!”
“I could make you some dinner, if you want,” Tachi said.
Food always seemed to be the way to a human’s heart.
“Hmm, my feet are feeling pretty sore from all the running around,” Traveler said. “If only someone could carry me back to the city.”
Tachi held back a retort at the fact that there was a waypoint nearby. And that if they were going to be staying in the teapot anyway, did it really matter where they set themselves down for the night?
But as far as retribution went for his actions, that wasn’t so bad.
Tachi knelt and gestured to his back. “Hop on.”
Traveler obeyed, climbing onto his back. Their legs settled around either side of him and he reached to keep them anchored so Traveler wouldn’t slide off when he stood.
“Can Paimon ride on your head?” Paimon asked.
Tachi sent her a death glare. “Try it and I’ll kill you.”
“Ohh… okay…” Paimon muttered.
The tavern was closing down for the night when the trio returned to the city. They were just outside Angel’s Share when Tachi let Traveler down and they thanked him for the lift.
“It’s no problem,” Tachi said.
“Paimon hopes Venti’s doing okay,” Paimon said. She paused, stretching her arms above her head as she yawned. “Oh man, am I beat!”
“Definitely time to go to sleep,” Traveler said.
Tachi was half surprised they hadn’t fallen asleep while on the ride back to the city. Maybe they had fallen asleep and Tachi just hadn’t noticed.
“Let’s talk again tomorrow afternoon,” Tachi said.
“Tomorrow afternoon? Not morning?” Paimon asked.
“You’ll need time to do your commissions or whatever, right?” Tachi asked. “Give me a chance to speak to Venti alone. Then we’ll meet back up over lunch.”
“Alright, so long as you promise not to get into any arguments!” Traveler said.
“I would never,” Tachi said, crossing his arms.
“Ohh, likely story,” Paimon muttered. “Anyway, Paimon’s sleepy. Let’s get some rest.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading~
Chapter 14: Stray Note's Song Pt. II
Summary:
Tachi plays the flute with Venti's assistance.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Once upon a time, many years ago in Tatarasuna, a group of women were outside finishing up some chores. One such woman lounged under the shadowy bough of a tree, playing a melody from a flute carved out of bamboo.
The kabukimono wandered by, swathed in whites and lavender, the silk veil on his head fluttering on the spring wind. His long hair, too, caught on the wind and sparkled like purple silk. He had undone the tasuki that kept the sleeves of his kimono pulled back, allowing them to wrap around his torso.
This was, to one woman’s eye, a sign that he had finished work for the day and might like to relax under the shade of the tree with them.
“Kabuki,” she called.
The kabukimono turned and his expression loosened into one of curiosity.
“Why don’t you come sit with us?” the woman asked. She patted the space next to her. “There is plenty of room.”
Since he had nothing else better to do, he acquiesced.
He approached, sat down, and crossed his legs. The woman under the tree resumed her flute-playing, one woman resumed her needlework, and even a few others resumed their other tasks, like washing clothing or dipping into idle chatter about their day.
The flute-player noticed Kabuki staring and paused. He frowned when the melody stopped.
“You seem curious. Would you like to try?”
“Oh no, I couldn’t,” he said. “I wouldn’t be any good at it.”
“Nonsense!” Another woman said. “You’re always a hit at whatever you try. Word is you already forged your first blade yesterday.”
That was only with Niwa’s diligent tutelage, and even then it had turned out pretty disappointing.
“But it’s so dull,” Kabuki said. “Surely it couldn’t actually be useful to anyone.”
“For someone who has never so much as held a forging hammer before, it is still a good start. Now. Would you like to learn or not?”
The woman held the flute out to him and he hesitated. The other women smiled and gestured for him to take it, so he did. Without prolonging the moment any longer, he brought the flute up to his lips, pressed his fingers down on some of the holes, and blew air through it.
A high-pitched noise started to come out that forced a rush through him. He was doing it! Wait, was he doing it? What did those looks on the women’s faces mean?
He held the note as long as he could, hoping that longer was better.
The flute-playing woman tapped his shoulder and he turned.
“Alright, alright. Stop playing before you get so lightheaded you faint!” she said.
“Did I do it?” he asked.
One woman laughed. “You definitely did something.”
“With a diaphragm like that, you’ll be able to play whatever you want in no time!” Another woman remarked.
Kabuki smiled. “Really?”
“Yes. After some practice, of course. So, are you interested?”
“Yes,” the kabukimono said.
“Just you wait,” one woman said. “Before we know it, Kabu-chan will have mastered this, too.”
Dew glistened on the leaves of the large oak tree as Tachi grabbed onto its branches and hauled himself up. His fingers scraped against the worn bark, finding enough purchase for him to continue his ascent.
Upon hearing his approach, a bird abandoned its nest and flew away. Down below, he heard a crystalfly sparkling.
It was early enough that the sky was still only faint grays, the barest hint of pink dusting the horizon. Tachiyaku overtook another branch, and then another, until there were none left and he stood at the apex of the tree.
He sat down, hanging his legs off the edge, and watched.
So, another boring day is beginning.
That’s always what he used to think whenever he woke in the morning. It had been a long time since he had something to look forward to like he did today, often instead associating a new day with loneliness and the same banal tasks. Life in Sumeru wasn’t bad, but it certainly wasn’t very interesting, either.
Tachi looked below him and noticed the form of a figure with his back pressed against the tree trunk, his legs swinging down similarly to Tachi’s.
Ha. Venti was even more predictable than Tachi thought.
He still looked to be asleep. From Tachi’s vantage point above him, he noticed that Venti’s hat had been pulled over his eyes to keep the sun out.
Tachi considered how to wake him. After the trick Venti had played on them last night with the hilichurls, maybe some prodding was warranted. He snapped his fingers, sending his hat elsewhere, and drew his knees up.
In one swift movement, Tachi leaned backward, feeling his legs slide across the tree branch. Adrenaline rushed into him as the backs of his knees caught on the tree and he stopped, his body still swinging from the weight of it hanging upside-down, anchored only by his legs.
The rustling of Tachi’s movements wasn’t enough to wake Venti, so Tachi puckered his lips and blew air into Venti’s face. His braids swayed before settling down again and his hat slid toward his nose, falling down into his lap.
Venti opened his eyes, the blue pupils bright, before registering that it was just Tachi.
“The sun’s getting in your eyes,” Tachi said, smirking.
Venti rubbed his eyes and opened his mouth to yawn, his lips splitting into a smile. “Good morning to you, too.” He shifted on the tree branch, stretching his arms above his head. A hand almost knocked into Tachi’s chin. “Before we get down to the flute-playing business, what about some breakfast? You could tell me a little bit about yourself.”
“Does it really matter who I am?” Tachi asked.
“I play my music for everybody, but if it’s a specific tune you’re seeking, it’ll help me to know who it’s for. A song is going to sound different to each person’s ears.”
“It’s for Adeptus Xiao of Liyue,” Tachi said. “Your music healed him once before and he needs healing now.”
“Healing, you say?” Venti asked. “Hmm. I’m not really sure you can chalk his recovery up to just my music, though.”
“What else could it be?” Tachi asked. “It seems pretty straightforward to me. It’s just like an archon to have a melody that can heal what injures you.”
“Heh, about that,” Venti said. “I guess nobody told you that I’m the weakest archon, huh?”
Tachi had heard about Signora’s interactions with him in the past and that he had gotten his gnosis taken from him. Tachi knew enough about Mondstadt to know that its absent god was, for obvious reasons, not going to be strong. Which in and of itself was a matter that confounded Tachi. How was it possible that there existed an archon who wasn’t grappling for power? How could he ever be satisfied with the way things were?
Now wasn’t the time for Tachi’s pontificating about that, though.
“So you’re telling me your music doesn’t do anything.”
“Hey, I didn’t say that!” Venti said. “It can make you want to dance, or lull you into a slumber. It stirs emotions up inside of you. And perhaps that is what Xiao felt when I played my music for him.”
He put a hand down on the tree branch and moved to stand. Tachi flexed out of the way, swinging back up onto his branch, too.
Venti hopped down, hitting the grass with a gentle pomf. Tachi wasn’t long after, landing beside him. Venti covered his mouth, concealing another yawn, and reached up to pluck an apple from the tree.
“Hey, Tachiyaku,” Venti started. “Why don’t you learn how to play the flute, then you can heal him yourself?”
“Why would I want to do that?” Tachi asked. “Are you really so lazy that you can’t just go over there and do it yourself?”
“If you really want me to do it, then I’m gonna need a little more from you,” Venti said. “Like where you know Xiao from.”
“That’s… complicated.” And would take far too much time to explain.
“Then I guess I can’t help you.”
That little brat. Venti smirked at Tachi and he smirked back.
“Alright, but don’t expect me to explain to you with other people around. The walls have ears.”
“I suppose just an apple will have to do for breakfast then…”
Venti frowned and Tachi rolled his eyes.
“We can make a campfire nearby.”
Tachiyaku treated Venti to a campfire breakfast close to the Statue of the Seven. He had managed to make a decent-tasting plate of scrambled eggs out of three fresh bird eggs that he’d found in a nearby tree, and he knew it was decent because Venti had not stopped humming since he put them in his mouth.
“So, what’s your story?” Venti asked, waving his fork in Tachi’s direction.
Tachi hesitated. It was rare enough for him to spend time in a stranger’s company but even rarer still for him to be the topic of conversation. With Zhongli and Verr Goldet it had been a reintroduction, but this was the first time he had a chance to introduce his new self properly and have it matter.
He had messed up last time with Cloud Retainer. Come to think of it, he hadn’t introduced himself at all that time.
“My name is Tachiyaku and I’m Lesser Lord Kusanali’s ward. I help her with all the matters that other people don’t want to get their hands dirty with.”
“Ahh, I see,” Venti said. “And where does Xiao enter the story?”
“Before I met Nahida. I was a wandering amnesiac who thought he could help me understand humans better.”
“Oh?” Venti’s eyes popped open. “So what I’m hearing is that you’re not human?”
“Of course not,” Tachi said. “After all, I don’t have a heart.”
Venti laughed. “I hardly think that’s a requirement for entry.”
“Well. Even then, I don’t think I could be human after all the things I’ve done.”
“You’d be surprised who can be considered ‘human,’” Venti said. “Murderers are human. So are cute little kids!”
He giggled as if he were pinching an imaginary child’s cheeks. He finished his food and put the plate aside, stretching his white legs out in front of him.
“Stop it with the act,” Tachi said.
Venti arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“All the smiling and laughter,” Tachi said. “You weren’t laughing last night. Doesn’t it ever get tiring to pretend that everything is okay when it isn’t?”
“Not really,” Venti said. “I don’t like stewing in sadness for very long. Life is too short to spend it being gloomy!”
“That’s kind of inevitable though, isn’t it?” Tachi asked. “Tragedy digs its claws into you and never lets go. Joy is too fleeting to combat that.”
“I don’t believe that,” Venti said. “Tell me, why do you want me to save Xiao so badly?”
“Because he deserves to live.”
“Even with all that big, awful tragedy in the world?” Venti asked.
Tachi rolled his eyes at his wide smirk and the exaggerated lilt of his tone. Venti had worked him into a corner and there was no defending himself.
Venti laughed. “So I was right. Life is worth living despite those little flashes of gloom because the joy eclipses them like the sun on a warm day.”
He lifted his hand up to the sky then, shielding his eyes from the sunlight.
“Alright, you’ve made your point,” Tachi said. “But all of that doesn’t change the fact that you need to be the one to play the flute. Nothing will happen if I do it.”
“Au contraire, mon ami,” Venti said, Tachi’s lips twisting down at the words. Venti stood and reached down, knocking on the metal of his hat. “A melody’s power all depends on the heart and soul you put into it. And love is the strongest power of all.”
“I— I didn’t say I loved him!” Tachi shouted.
Venti laughed. “I didn’t say that, either.”
“You insinuated as much though,” Tachi said. He joined Venti standing, finding that Venti was just a smidge taller than him. Annoying.
“Then we should start with learning how to play,” Venti said.
“I already know how.”
“Oh? Then let’s hear it!” Venti said. He waved his hand in the air, summoning a flute into his hands. He handed it over to Tachi, who turned it over and ran his hands over its white surface.
It wasn’t the same as the flute Tachi had played back in Inazuma but enough of it looked familiar that he wasn’t overly worried about the finer details. He nestled the flute under his lower lip and blew a steady stream of air into it.
One even, slightly thin note came out. Tachi shifted his fingers over different holes, switching to a new note. He should start with his scales first. It had been long enough that he couldn’t remember which note was which, only a rough remembrance for the progression of their pitches and the finger placements he needed to follow a scale with rough accuracy.
Once Tachi was done, he lowered the flute and looked toward Venti.
“Bravo, bravo! That’s pretty decent already,” Venti said. “Who taught you how to play?”
“An Inazuman woman a few hundred years ago,” Tachi said.
Venti didn’t look shocked by this information, the smile never leaving his lips. “Well, she did a good job. Now all you’ve gotta do is pick a tune and play it in front of Xiao!”
Tachi shook his head. “No. I can’t play it to his face.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated. But he doesn’t want to see me right now.” Tachi paused long enough to laugh. Then his shoulders sagged again. “If I play for him and he finds out, it’ll anger him and the karmic debt will get worse.”
He looked back at Venti and grimaced. “You really should be the one to do it. There’s still a chance that you can be the one to save him.”
“And steal your show?” Venti asked. “Now, now, that doesn’t make for a very good story. And it will mean more coming from you. Why don’t you just trust the music to do its job? Even if it’s not my music, it’s still music from someone who cares a lot about him. And that will always shine through.”
“Fine. I’ll play, but I can’t have him knowing it was me.”
“If those are your terms, then I can work with them,” Venti said. He clapped his hands and grinned. “Now, shall we get started?”
Venti was about as good at teaching as he was at fulfilling his archon duties. There were many times where it really seemed like he didn't know what he was doing, only for him to drop good advice at the last second, leaving Tachi dissatisfied and frustrated. Ironically enough, the breathing exercises Nahida always encouraged were useful in helping him achieve slow, even notes from the flute.
Tachi tested different sounds out together. Venti played him a few Mondstatian tunes that went largely ignored in favor of melodies from Sumeru and Liyue and even Snezhnaya.
One time, not too long ago, Mochou had gone to a show with Zhongli where an erhu had played long notes as an opera singer filled the night air with a strong, chilling melody from barely parted lips. He longed for that kind of feeling again. The sort that made him want to grab Xiao by the sleeve and go, “Look at what humans can do!”
Maybe this song could be his way of telling that story.
Tachi played one improvised version of the tune from beginning to end. Once he was finished, he heard clapping.
“That’s the one,” Venti said. “It’s gotta be that one!”
Tachi smiled. Creating something from scratch hadn’t been as difficult as he thought it would be.
But would it be enough? What if he was already too late?
Tachi’s grip on the flute tightened. No, he couldn’t think like that. Someone had to remain positive about Xiao’s chances of survival, even if that person wasn’t Xiao himself.
“Hey, you okay?” Venti asked.
“I’m fine,” Tachi said. “Just thinking.”
He moved back toward the log where they had eaten breakfast and sat down. Venti sat down across from him and crossed his legs at the ankles.
Tachi studied him. He had a boyish figure and an energetic twinkle in his eye. But Tachi wondered what was underneath. What did his true face look like? The face of the archon who had witnessed the destruction of Khaenri’ah and the uprising against Decarabian, whatever that had looked like? Who had seen people die, time and time again, yet still managed to wake in the morning with a smile?
It didn’t matter to what Tachi was currently doing at all. What significance did Venti’s past have in his life, anyway? What could that information possibly do for him other than satisfy a curious itch?
Yet, Tachi still wanted to ask about the anemo archon even knowing what the plausible response would be. After all, they could still cheat, steal, and lie like any other human. And in Venti’s case, deflect.
He had already proved that skill useful when asking Tachi questions about himself. But now that he had gotten what he wanted, Tachi didn’t feel the pressure to behave himself.
“Where do you know Xiao from?” Tachi asked.
“I met him out in Guili Plains once while I was relaxing in the moonlight,” Venti said. “The air takes on a special weight when you’re sitting under a full moon with a dihua flute in one hand and a drink in another.”
Venti grinned and Tachi forced a small smile. “Do you play your flute at night often?”
“Not really,” Venti said. “Inspiration for that sort of thing is fickle and ‘Luc’s tavern is so cozy. But there’s a whole world out there to explore and melodies to be heard by everyone.”
“What sort of mood do you have to be in for that sort of thing?” Tachi asked. A smirk threatened to break out onto his lips and he let it. “A lonely mood? Maybe the grieving kind?”
“Sometimes,” Venti said. Only the briefest of frowns flashed across his lips before he asked, “Why? Looking for advice on how to deal with your own grief?”
“I was really just hoping you would tell me more about last night.”
Venti sighed. “That conversation pairs much better with a drink. But if you must know, I was just visiting an old friend. Even I am not always immune to a bad-mood spell every now and again.”
“Do you want to… I don’t know, talk about it?” Tachi asked.
He didn’t know why he was even offering. He was no Nahida when it came to listening to another person’s problems. He doubted he even had the patience for it. So why, of all people, was he offering to listen to an archon and his problems?
Venti laughed. “No, I’ll be alright. I’ll bother ‘Luc with my problems later when I’m feeling better.”
Aha! “So you haven’t been feeling well after all,” Tachi said with a widening of his eyes.
Venti shrugged. “It was someone’s death anniversary yesterday. It’s natural to feel a little gloomy after that.”
“True.”
Tachi’s mind drifted to the nameless boy and Niwa. When were their death anniversaries? He felt a drop of disgust at himself for not remembering. The former had been in springtime, the ladder winter. But that was all he could remember.
So, he wouldn’t even be able to honor their lives with the proper date. Not surprising, considering the sort of person Kunikuzushi was, but still.
“Thanks for the company,” Venti said. “It certainly has kept my mind off… other things.”
“Thank you too,” Tachi said. “For giving me a chance.”
Venti laughed. He reached out, clapping a hand onto Tachi’s shoulder. He couldn’t bring himself to shove it away. “I had a feeling you weren’t so bad. You’re Xiao’s special someone, after all!”
“Not anymore,” Tachi said. “Although I get what you mean.”
Venti’s hand slipped away and he frowned again. “How bad is it?”
“I’m not really sure. But it’s bad enough that he’s hearing and seeing things that aren’t there. And tossing himself into every fight he can find.”
“Well. That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not.”
Venti groaned. “Xiao…”
“I know,” Tachi said. “It’s almost time for lunch; I agreed to meet with Traveler in the city.”
“It’s been so long; we definitely need to catch up.”
Traveler’s eyes lit up when Tachi approached with Venti at his shoulder. It didn’t take more than a nugget of intelligence to know that, given an option between Tachi and anyone else, Traveler would choose the other person. Traveler and Venti strutted off toward a café and Tachi lingered just behind, still grasping the flute Venti had given him in his hands.
He wanted to go now. He couldn’t waste any more time.
“Tachi?” Traveler asked.
He lifted his head to them and caught them staring, along with Venti and Paimon.
“It’s been fun, but I have to go,” Tachi said.
“Already?” Venti asked. “But the fun has just begun!”
“Xiao’s hurting right now. I can’t waste time on things that don’t involve his recovery,” Tachi said.
Traveler and Paimon shared a look.
“Paimon knows he isn’t feeling very good, so maybe we could invite him over to lunch at Wangshu Inn?”
“That’s an idea,” Traveler said. They turned their eyes onto Venti. “Does that sound alright to you?”
“Absolutely,” Venti said. “It has been a while since we last saw each other, after all.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading, as always!!!
Kabu-chan played the flute canon!!!
I might post again after work for that long-awaited scene I want to share!
Chapter 15: Withered Shadows
Summary:
Xiao dives into fighting to overcome the grief in his heart, but that comes with complications.
Notes:
This is the chapter!! If you want to be spoiled a little, feel free to check the content warning.
Content warning for: Xiao falling into a coma. This comes with some combat but no descriptions I think are super graphic aside from blood. If you want to skip that particular scene, It begins at: "The hilichurl camp that Xiao picked as his target came with the typical fanfare" and ends at: "When he fell asleep this time, he yielded himself completely to the music, finding silence for the first time in years."
Chapter Text
It was quiet the morning that Xiao heard the high-pitched ring of his name in his ear.
He had been patrolling Giuli Plains, shoes stained with mud and demon blood, when the sound came, spurring him into action.
Only the other yakshas ever called his name like that. But Bonanus and Menogias were already dead, leaving only two options for whom it could be. He teleported to the source of the sound with his spear in hand and mask on his face.
The sight before him, however, was not the fight he had been anticipating.
Indarias, his sister, with her billowing red hair and lavender eyes, was collapsed in a patch of grass lit by the same pyro that flickered on her shoulders. The fire stretched out across the plains where she sat, licking up the bark of trees and over silk flowers.
Xiao swept his spear across the plains, sending a cold gust that extinguished the fire. He turned toward Indarias, dropping next to her as she called his name again and again.
“Alatus,” she cried, her voice quiet and crusted over with pain.
Xiao’s mask disappeared, revealing his face. His eyebrows screwed up with worry and he leaned in closer so he could look into her eyes.
“I am here,” he said.
“It hurts. It hurts so much.”
When he touched her, the world became distorted. Xiao felt the pain of her karmic debt seeping into him too, picking his thoughts apart like clearing the pine needles from a forest floor and crushing them into powder.
She didn’t look up at him. Her body shook and she brought her hands up to her face, fingers carving red, angry marks down her cheeks. Xiao watched in shock as she reached for her eyes and dug her fingers—
“Don’t do that,” Xiao snapped.
He grabbed her wrists and pulled them away from her face. Her skin burned.
“Make it stop!” She shouted. “Make it stop, make it stop…”
Indarias curled up into a fetal position and rocked back and forth as howling cries came from her throat. Not knowing what else to do, Xiao pulled her close to his chest and pressed a hand against the back of her head as she descended into more pain-filled wails.
Xiao wanted the voices to stop.
As soon as he dashed away from Tachi, they consumed him again and he stopped along the path toward Wangshu Inn to rest his back against a tree. He closed his eyes, his lungs heavy with scorching breaths, as the thoughts whistled in his head.
You’re broken. And he enjoys toying with broken things. He is the puppet and yet you are the one whose strings are coming loose!
Keep it together. This line of thought is unbecoming of a yaksha. Keep your eyes on your duties; nothing else matters.
I miss Mochou. I need him back. I need something.
Some of these thoughts were his and some of them were not— he knew that much. He had lived with them so long that he had grown used to having to parse which information to trust and which to discard as the voice of an ill-intentioned demon or slain god looking to stir trouble inside of him.
But lately it had gotten more difficult to determine which voices to trust. When all of them had been steeped in the same head for so long, was it really a surprise that they had started to merge together into some incorporeal thing that was neither sensical nor kind but twisted and cruel?
Xiao winced as his chest pulsed with heart palpitations. He reached up, clawing at the cloth over his torso, and felt his incisors bite into his lip.
Do what you do best. Fight. Keep fighting and the pain won’t matter anymore.
The voice was right. So long as he could prove useful to someone — in this case while still just barely standing with his spear clenched in his hand — he had a promise to fulfill.
He sucked in a quick, shaky breath, and closed his eyes.
The hilichurl camp that Xiao picked as his target came with the typical fanfare. Most of the creatures were humanoid and carried shields that required only one stab in the back to neutralize.
The fight should have been easy. But Xiao caught himself tripping over his own feet, something that never happened. The usual spear attacks were not enough. He sometimes struck air when he was sure that there had been a monster standing there.
His vision was failing him. The grunts and gnarls of the remaining hilichurls were no closer to helping him determine what was a monster and what was a hallucination.
There was only one mitachurl and three hilichurls left. Or four, or five. He wasn’t sure anymore.
Xiao backed away from the mitachurl, keeping his eyes on the ragged edge of its axe. His back bumped into something sturdy and he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He screamed out in pain and his vision flickered as a headache consumed his mind. He reached for whatever had struck him and felt the feathered end of an arrow.
He had just backed himself into a corner, his back against one of the wooden supports of an archery tower. How could he have forgotten about the sentries? Xiao closed his eyes and focused on teleporting to the space above his head where the archer stood.
Xiao teleported and swung at whatever was in front of him, hearing the stray scream of the hilichurl he struck and its body hitting the earth down below. A bolt of electricity passed by his ear and he opened his eyes to the sunlight again as the platform began to shake.
He’d succeeded at isolating himself on the top of the tower, but his attack hadn’t even killed the archer and the mitachurl had just rammed itself into the platform enough to splinter wood. The platform careened onto one side, bringing Xiao down with it.
Xiao hit the ground with a dry cough. He felt like his heart was about to fall out of his chest. A hilichurl darted forward with its sword aimed at his throat. He had just enough time to bring his spear up to deflect it, the metal hitting the long handle of Xiao’s weapon.
Something was bleeding. His arms were shaking so badly that they weren’t listening to him anymore. He slashed at the hilichurl’s throat and it fell onto him, blood oozing from its neck. Xiao pushed it aside and rolled out of the way of another sword attack.
The fight was far from done. They just wouldn’t stop coming.
He had to focus. He had to ignore the shadow that stood in front of the treeline, the outline of a figure so close Xiao could almost feel the curve of his jaw under his shaking fingers.
“Mochou?” Xiao whispered. What was he doing here?
Another hilichurl fired an arrow at him, the mitachurl rushed forward, and Xiao pushed himself onto shaky legs.
He was too late to doge the attack and the mitachurl bashed into his center, forcing him up against a tree trunk.
It felt as though he had been crushed by a boulder. Someone grabbed his spine and squeezed it so hard it made him gag and double over in pain. The mitachurl’s hand grabbed his throat and squeezed, its claws bringing so much pain he could no longer hear anything.
He saw stars. His nose burned and tears pricked the corners of his wilting eyes.
To die protecting Liyue would not be the worst way for things to end.
Look, Xiao! It’s you! They look just like you — white, green, and pretty.
I guess that’s just what happens when I spend lots of time around you.
I promise. I promise that no matter what happens with Buer, I’ll come back and tell you all about it.
You made me believe in feelings I did not know I had. You made me see joy where all I used to see was sunlight. And then you left.
I love you.
Xiao.
Xiao!
The voice shouted for him like a dinner bell at sunset.
His nostrils flared, his passageway clotting with blood, as he reached with his spear and struck the mitachurl’s stomach. It seemed a miracle that he felt the sharpened end driving past the monster’s thick outer skin and into the organs underneath.
Everything inside of Xiao screamed out in pain when he twisted his spear, pushing it as far as he could, the monster’s furry hand squeezing ever tighter around his throat.
Xiao’s grip on the spear loosened and his fingers twitched involuntarily. He couldn’t breathe anymore. The only thing he could see was Mochou standing in the distance, near the treeline, his hat obscuring his face.
For a brief second, Xiao lost consciousness and his eyes fell shut.
He heard his name again, and as unwilling as the mind was, the flesh could still go on.
The mitachurl had been slain. Just as it had with the hilichurls, its body sagged forward and a second later it dematerialized into nothing but ash.
Xiao sucked in a sharp, ragged breath and spat out the blood that gushed from his mouth. The other hilichurls charged forward to take its place. Xiao’s blood-stained hands reached out, swift and exacting with the spear, plucking at them like apples off a tree.
One after another.
Another cry, another stain on the grass.
This was what it meant to be a slaughterer.
The only enemy remaining after Xiao had killed the last monster was that shadow under a tree in the distance. Xiao staggered after it, reaching up to snap off the stems of the arrows that dug into his shoulder, his spear gripped so tightly in his hand that it had fused itself to his skin.
His shoes scuffed rocks and pebbles along the way. His vision grew blurry again, the trees, road, and sky nothing more than blocks of colors.
He heard the slosh of water as his shoes slid into the marsh.
If he kept going, eventually he would drown in it.
Mochou floated out onto the surface of the water, ushering him with a hand to follow. Xiao only made it as far as up to his calves before he dropped onto his knees and held his head in his hands. The voices wouldn’t shut up. He hurt all over. Wherever the bleeding was, he needed to stop it. But he could barely breathe. He felt like something was stuck in his throat.
He leaned over the water and heaved. Nothing came out.
A corroded figure drowning in pitch and blood stared back at him from the still body of water.
Xiao felt it wrap its hands around his throat, which was still marked with where the mitachurl’s fingers had carved indentations into his skin. His head was too heavy to hold up anymore and he fell in, lured by its outstretched hands.
It was quieter underwater. The low thrum of his heartbeat echoed in his ears. He stayed still at first, then rolled onto his back. His nose and mouth just peeked above the surface of the water, the sharp scent of ichor burning his nostrils.
He wanted to close his eyes and never wake up.
Instead, a note floated in the air.
It sounded unsure, like a child sticking their toes into a bath before sinking down into it.
Xiao sucked in a shaky breath and closed his eyes, tears already burning his cheeks.
This was not Venti’s music. It wasn’t as sad or slow. It felt like mischief, suspense, and children jumping into puddles after the rain stopped and the sun came out.
The sun came out.
Xiao sniffled and closed his eyes. This was Mochou. But how was that possible? Hadn’t he already left?
“Mochou,” Xiao whispered.
It hurt so much to speak that it felt like his tongue was barbed with venom. Or that his jaw would fall off. How much blood was there? If he tried to move, would his body even obey him? When the tide came in, would he be strong enough to keep his head above water?
The melody continued and Xiao focused on the beat of his racing heart. Somehow, it didn’t feel as fast as it had before.
When he fell asleep this time, he yielded himself completely to the music, finding silence for the first time in years.
Paimon, Traveler, and Venti strolled out onto the balcony and picked out a table to have their lunch when they teleported to Wangshu Inn. Tachi turned his exacting eyes onto the entrance leading inside, feeling a little like a skittish cat preparing to dash away at the single sight of an unwanted visitor.
This was Xiao’s territory; he didn’t belong here.
“Everything alright?” Traveler asked.
“I don’t want him to see me,” Tachi said. “I’ll play somewhere else.”
“Ooh, like maybe somewhere up high so he can hear you no matter what?” Paimon asked.
Tachi nodded.
“What about Qingyun Peak?” Traveler asked. “That’s the home of Moon Carver.”
Tachi frowned. “It’s not a good idea to pick a place in Jueyun Karst.”
“You only got into an argument with Cloud Retainer. Moon Carver is still neutral.”
“So long as we keep out of each other’s way.”
Venti laughed at that.
Tachi only shook his head. “You call his name so you can tell me if it does anything to him.”
“Got it!” Paimon said.
“I’ll be going now,” Tachi said, then returned to the waypoint to teleport away.
It didn’t come as a shock to Tachi that the peak Traveler had suggested did indeed stretch far above the ground below. So far, in fact, that even in the daytime a layer of clouds still collected below.
The pillar of rock Tachi had found himself on was flat. A statue of a crane stood nearby, its wings outspread. Circular patterns had been carved onto the ground, lines going in small swirls. Tachi picked one and sat down in its center with his legs crossed.
He brought the flute up to his mouth and mimed notes with his fingers. There wasn’t time for a full recital; a brief rundown of the melody would have to be enough.
With no time left to waste, he blew out the first note.
It sounded just as unsure as it had a few hours ago. Tachi wouldn’t be dissuaded, though. He straightened in his seat, blew out another steady stream of air, and switched to the next note. Then another note after that and so on.
He was surprised at how easily the melody came after he broke through the first few uncomfortable seconds. He had never thought himself very good at music. Kabukimono had enjoyed dancing, and Mochou probably would have too, but that wasn’t really his sort of thing.
Still, he loved plays. He loved that music could be a player in a larger story. That just the order of a few notes could become a plot.
Tachi wanted his story to be a happy one. He had spent so much of his life in tragedy and hatred, and Xiao had, too. He deserved something better than that.
A melody’s power all depends on the heart and soul you put into it. And love is the strongest power of all, Venti had said.
Tachi poured all of his hope and love into his melody. He let it echo across Liyue, flicking through the leaves in the trees like sunshine. He trusted that the winds would carry his song to Xiao’s ears, wherever he was.
Even though Tachi didn’t say it aloud, he screamed for Xiao to come.
It was a foolish thing to want, he knew. But he couldn’t stop himself.
Once the song had gone on long enough, it slipped into its ending on its own. When Kabukimono used to play, he had a certain melody that he’d stuck to always using to end his songs. Even hundreds of years later, the habit was still there, and Tachi played the notes that left a familiar taste on his tongue.
Afterward, he lowered the flute into his lap and sat in silence.
Had he done it? Would Xiao be alright?
Tachi’s eyes drew toward Giuli Plains and he frowned. He needed patience. And trust.
A second later, Tachi heard Paimon’s squealing in his ear and his eyes closed. He sent the flute away and stood.
Traveler was already running up to him, Venti not too far behind.
“Something’s wrong,” they said. “He didn’t answer our calls. Goldet said she hasn’t seen him since you carried him in the other day.”
Tachi cursed.
Venti frowned. “Maybe he’s just… resting?”
Tachi bit his lip. He wouldn’t say what he was thinking, but he still sent Venti a death glare.
“I’m leaving,” Tachi said, approaching the edge of the platform.
“Where are you going?” Paimon asked.
“To look for him,” Tachi said, then jumped off the edge, his clothing flapping in the undercurrent as he deployed his hanglider.
Chapter 16: Muddled Waters
Summary:
Tachi recovers Xiao from Giuli Plains. Baizhu gives a surprising diagnosis.
Notes:
There's some description of blood and injury in the first part of the chapter. If you want to skip over the distressing bit at the beginning, you can start reading at: "This time, when Tachiyaku carried Xiao to the inn, the trip took two minutes."
Disclaimer: I do not consent to my fics being used with/alongside/for AI, or for AI training purposes, whether that be ChatGPT, character AI, etc. Do. Not. Do it. If I hear again that someone has done this, I will be restricting user access. Thank you for understanding. If you do not understand, stop reading.
Chapter Text
Xiao was not in Juyeun Karst.
He was not resting at Wangshu Inn.
Tachi had not found him anywhere between those two places, either. He stood on the top of the inn, scanning the area, when his ears twitched and he turned toward the marshes. Intuition had never turned him wrong before. Tachi shot into the air and flew toward the water.
His eyes caught on something before he had even gotten very far. There was something dark and brown that made the water foggy.
Tachi remembered similar sights scattered throughout his past. So many humans slain, the blood draining from their bodies and running into tainted streams.
He rushed to its source, following it to the backside of a sloped hill.
When Tachi’s eyes first fell on Xiao, he thought Xiao was face-down in the water. Tachi dropped onto his feet and sloshed through the water, upsetting the inky red and dark teal blood that swirled around his legs. He dropped onto his knees, pulled Xiao into his arms, and pressed his ear against Xiao’s chest.
Tachi couldn’t hear anything but the thrum of fear in his ears until the faint flicker of Xiao’s heartbeat reached him. Then Tachi heaved a sigh of relief and pulled Xiao closer.
“You bastard,” Tachi whispered, digging his nose into the crook of Xiao’s shoulder.
He didn’t care if Xiao stank to high heaven or if he was sticky with his own blood. He didn’t even care that the idiot had almost gone and gotten himself killed, with markings all over his body to prove it.
All he cared about was the fact that he was still breathing and alive.
The hard part, of course, would be keeping it that way.
Tachi’s hands shook as he touched Xiao all over, searching for fatal marks. He tried to keep his touch light, but worry and desperation made his touch a little more coarse. Xiao’s skin was cold. For the first time, Tachi understood how it felt to be unable to breathe. There was a tightness in his chest that nothing could clear.
He tried not to stare at Xiao’s face more than he could help it, the pallor of his cheeks still striking fear in him. Instead, Tachi registered the bright red and teal markings on Xiao’s neck where someone had tried to strangle him to death, making bruises sprout across his skin.
The creature was lucky Tachi had not been there to chop its hands off first.
Two short, splintered sticks protruded from Xiao’s left shoulder and some blood drizzled out of the corner of his mouth. Tachi gathered Xiao up in his arms and looked him over again without the water obstructing his view.
He couldn’t see anything else. Everything else was probably inside. The weight of the karmic debt that settled around them was indicative enough of that.
This time, when Tachiyaku carried Xiao to the inn, the trip took two minutes.
He flew most of the way, holding Xiao close, keeping a hand curled around the back of his head in the off chance he might have knocked it into something before collapsing in the water.
Tachi skipped the front desk again and took Xiao straight to his room. He lowered Xiao onto the bedsheets, which immediately turned varying muddied hues from the blood he was drenched in.
Then Tachi slipped out of his room again to fetch whatever he could think of. Rags. A bucket. Water. Food, extra blankets, and a change of clothing. He would rip the paintings off the walls if he thought they would make Xiao feel better.
Tachi returned to Xiao’s room and placed everything on the desk he never used. Then Tachi returned to Xiao’s side and placed a wet rag over his forehead. His eyes shifted down to Xiao’s chest.
Xiao was completely drenched in everything. Winter had not ended yet. He couldn’t stay in these clothes. And who knew if there was an injury he was hiding.
Tachi swallowed and reached for Xiao’s shoulders.
“I’m going to remove some of your clothes now,” he said.
Xiao didn’t stir once as Tachi pulled him into a sitting position to reach behind him and undo the fastening for the necklace draped around his neck. Next, Tachi did the same for the spike and armor across the tops of Xiao’s shoulders. They fell onto the floor with light clunks.
How did he get dressed each morning? Everything was so tight. Tachi reached down and felt the area where arrows had punctured his chest. He picked at a tear in the fabric, which peeled apart easier than Tachi had expected.
When the white fabric tore across Xiao’s chest, leaving a rrrrip noise behind, Tach was shocked it hadn’t woken Xiao up. He leaned down again, pressing his ear against Xiao’s cold skin just to make sure he was still alive.
Yes. His heartbeat was there; it was just faint.
“I’m going to wash the blood off you now,” Tachi said. “Stay still.”
Xiao either heard him and listened or was still unconscious. Tachi brought over the rag and bucket of warm water he had grabbed, dipping the rag in the water and bringing it up to dab at Xiao’s cheeks.
Tachi noticed that Xiao’s cuts didn’t look like a normal human’s. A slash across his cheek, for example, glowed almost neon. Bruises covered his chest in faded grays. Tachi wondered if Xiao was capable of healing himself or if that, too, had been a power he once had before he’d started to get worse.
Dabbing away the blood was easy enough. Nothing was actively bleeding anymore. He needed more liquids in him, though.
With that finished, Tachi continued his narrations. He explained that he was going to wrap Xiao’s wound and get him into a warmer top.
Still, Xiao didn’t say anything. Tachi knew without listening any harder that Xiao was still alive but that something was terribly, horribly wrong.
He wasn’t just unconscious, was he?
“I’m going to check your eyes,” Tachi said.
He leaned forward and reached for Xiao’s eyelid. He slowly parted the upper and lower lids, exposing Xiao’s golden iris, which looked much like a cat’s, aside from the absent pupil. It was probably rolled back in his head. Xiao didn’t react at all.
Tachi leaned forward, this time hovering his ear just over Xiao’s mouth. He was barely breathing, faint enough that it wouldn’t even stir a feather.
Well, shit.
Tachi leaned backward and stared at the slow rise and fall of Xiao’s chest.
Outside, the waterwheel continued to churn, just as the cogs in Tachi’s brain spun relentlessly. He reached for the folded shirt on the bedside table and leaned forward.
The shirt Tachi had struggled Xiao into was white cotton with four closures up the front. It was a loose, short-sleeved thing that almost made it look like he didn’t have two sticks embedded in his chest underneath. Tachi sighed, frustrated that he couldn’t do more, when he heard a knock at the door.
He rose and walked over to answer it.
As he had expected, Traveler, Venti, and Paimon were on the other side.
“Hey,” Paimon said. She crossed her arms. “Forgot about us, huh?”
“I’ve been busy,” Tachi said.
He stepped aside, allowing the others into the room. Paimon gasped when her eyes fell on Xiao. Tachi sent her a glare.
“What happened?” Paimon asked.
“He fought something and won,” Tachi said. “But not without taking some hits in the process.”
“Is he gonna be okay?”
“He has to see a doctor. None of us know enough about medicine to fix this.” He gestured in Xiao’s direction. “He has two arrows stuck in his shoulder.”
And taking arrows out of people without killing them in the process was not his specialty.
“I know a doctor in Liyue Harbor who might be able to help,” Traveler said. They turned back toward Venti. “Sorry about lunch. I understand if you don’t want to go with us to Liyue Harbor.”
“This day is just getting more tangled every second,” Paimon said with a groan.
“It’s really no problem,” Venti said. “There’s a certain someone I’ve been meaning to visit over there anyway. So, I’ll go with you.”
“Then let’s not waste any more time!” Paimon said. “Let’s go before he gets any worse!”
“You said it,” Traveler said. They looked back toward Tachi with an expectant tilt of their head.
Without saying anything else, Tachi walked across the room and reached to lift Xiao into his arms again.
Tachi had not been expecting to be back in Liyue Harbor so soon. He followed Traveler up flights of stairs into a large building with a small room studded with jars of medicines, scrolls, and any odd thing a doctor would need to treat a patient.
Tachi paid very little attention to the platitudes and exposition Traveler spouted at the green-haired man with the snake corded around his neck. Instead, Tachi ran mental evaluations on him and his face. Humans were so easy to read once you knew what to look for.
The man, named Baizhu, led them into a room stripped of pretty much everything except a bed and a window.
“Lay him down, please, and I will conduct a cursory physical,” he said.
Tachi obeyed and placed Xiao down.
Baizhu quickly came to the same conclusion Tachi had after hearing Xiao’s heartbeat and his breath. He conducted a few extra tests, like checking blood pressure and his temperature, but Tachi could see in his eyes that he had already figured it out.
“The man needs fluids and oxygen immediately,” Baizhu said. “How long has he been like this?”
Paimon tapped her fingers together. “Umm, well, that depends on your definition of ‘this.’”
“I mean, in a coma.”
The word chilled Tachi to his core. Baizhu had sucked all of the air out of the room.
“I’m sorry, ‘coma’?” Traveler repeated.
“Yes,” Baizhu said. “From high levels of stress, probably. Or something else psychiatric. Unless he hit his head very hard before you brought him to me.”
“He was like this when I found him,” Tachi said. “His karmic debt has been getting worse recently. He’s an adeptus yaksha. Can you help him?”
“Hm,” Baizhu said. “An illuminated beast, eh? I can’t say they’re my specialty. But leave him with me for a day or two and I will see what I can find.”
“You promise he won’t get any worse?” Paimon asked.
“I can’t promise that,” Baizhu said. “But I will try my best.”
“Then that’s gonna have to be enough, right? Paimon doesn’t have any better ideas.”
“Thank you for helping with this,” Traveler said. “I don’t know what I could have done without your help, Doctor Baizhu.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” he said. “I was just thinking it had gotten too quiet around here. Why don’t you take a stroll around the harbor while I finish up with my evaluations here? Come back any time and I’ll keep you posted with the latest on him.”
“Thank you,” Tachi said. He took his hat off his head and bowed.
“With all of that over, can we finally have lunch? Paimon’s starving!”
“You go on ahead. I have business to attend to,” Tachi said. He returned the hat to his head and turned on his heel to walk out of the room.
He felt someone grab his wrist and paused.
“Wait,” Traveler said.
“What?” Tachi asked.
“Let’s talk for a second outside.”
Venti followed Traveler, Tachi, and Paimon outside. He floated between them, his hands held behind his back as a small smile stretched across his lips.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll be heading off my way now, too,” Venti said. “Although we should definitely catch back up over dinner, Traveler.”
Traveler, who so often was stocked with a smile, didn’t even spare an “okay.” Venti gestured them into a hug and pulled them close, wrapping his arms around them.
“Things will turn around, just you wait,” Venti said. He pulled away again and patted their shoulder. “See you soon!”
“Bye,” Traveler muttered with a half-hearted wave. They turned back toward Tachi and grimaced.
“Alright, out with it. What have I messed up this time?” Tachi asked.
“We’re supposed to be helping Xiao together but you keep speeding off on your own like we’re not even there,” Traveler said.
“It’s a hazard of working with me,” Tachi said. “If you can’t keep up, then you wind up in the dust.”
“But have you ever considered that things don’t get solved that way? That they get solved by friends working together?” Traveler asked. “And we wasted all that time searching for Xiao when you could have just told us where you were going.”
“I am not interested in wasting time on words.”
“Not even just a few seconds’ worth?”
Traveler crossed their arms and glared at him. Tachi glared back.
“Hey, uh, guys? Do you mind if we go eat?” Paimon asked.
“Yeah,” Tachi said. “Maybe you’re just hangry. Get some food in your stomach and you’ll start to feel better.”
“Don’t talk to me like that,” Traveler said. “It’s not so simple. You are so single-minded and selfish and it’s driving me insane. I’m begging you to think of someone else other than yourself for five seconds.”
“I am thinking of someone else,” Tachi said. “I’m thinking of Xiao. That’s been the point this whole time.”
“But do you really want to help him or is this just a way of showing that you’ve been ‘redeemed’?” Traveler asked. “Isn’t Xiao just an outlet that you’re using to prove to yourself that you’ve changed?”
“Whatever gave you that impression?” Tachi asked. “I know I am not a good person. I gave up on changing that a long time ago. This was never about any of that. This was only about repaying the person who had made me feel like there was some part of me that was good and still worthwhile enough to latch onto.”
“Really?” Traveler asked. Their eyes widened.
Tachi groaned. “Yes. And obviously I’m failing at doing that, along with everything else. But I can’t stop until Xiao is better. It’s my fault he’s in this state to begin with; it’s my responsibility to piece him back together again.” He laughed. “That has, historically, not been a strong suit of mine.”
“So those times you left me behind you really were just being a tactless jerk,” Traveler said.
Tachi nodded. “I, uh. Am sorry about that. But it’s Xiao. I can’t have him getting any worse.”
“I understand. But there are still better ways that we can work together,” Traveler said. “Tell me where you’re going.”
“I’m going to Nahida.”
“Okay. Then I’m coming, too.”
“I really need to go alone this time,” Tachi said.
“Oh yeah, because she’s the one ‘best suited to prying about the things you hold dearest,’ right?” Paimon asked.
Tachi had to laugh. “She really said that?”
“Yes?” Paimon asked.
“Then yes, that’s exactly right,” Tachi said.
“I didn’t mean joining you in seeing Nahida. I’m going to Gandharva Ville to talk with Tighnari, who’s familiar with different herbal remedies,” Traveler said. “I know normal human medicine doesn’t work, but maybe he will know something. And this is one thing only Paimon and I can do. After all, your lightning kinda struck him in the other timeline.”
Tachi’s lips screwed into a grimace. “Really?”
“Yep. At Pardis Dhyai.”
“Then yes, I will definitely leave that to you,” Tachi said. “Best I not dredge up more problems from my past than I can handle right now.”
“Great! Then we all have our assignments!” Paimon said. “Now can we please eat?”
“Of course, Paimon. But as soon as that’s done we’re going straight to Sumeru.”
“I’ll be staying overnight in Sumeru City,” Tachi said. “Let’s meet here again at the same time tomorrow.”
“Alright, I like that idea,” Traveler said. “Don’t be late.”
“Wouldn’t imagine it,” Tachi said.
Paimon wasted no time buzzing toward the restaurants down the main avenue as Traveler sent Tachi one more brief smile before following after her.
Chapter 17: Nahida's Teapot
Summary:
Tachi drops by for a visit with Nahida.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It felt good to be in Sumeru again.
It had been a while since Tachi truly considered a place his “home.” But it must have been here, because as soon as he walked up the path toward the Sanctuary of Surasthana and saw Nahida’s small back turned away from him, he wanted to run up to her and swing her into his arms. Even though she was the tiniest thing, she still gave the biggest hugs.
And Tachi needed, more than anything, a big hug right now.
“I knew I would see you again soon,” Nahida said.
Her voice was full of happiness and even a twinge of amusement. But then she turned around and her shoulders dropped.
Tachi strode across the walkway to her and she reached out to touch his hand.
“Is everything alright?”
“You’re having lunch with me,” Tachi said, “now.”
“Alright,” Nahida said. She smiled. “But only because you asked nicely.”
Tachi had heard it once said that “everything happens around a plate of food.”
The saying made sense, as humans needed the stuff to live. But it was also a significant source of socialization. When humans were happy, they ate together. When they were sad, they ate together. And so it went that there was always one reason or another to gather around a table of good food.
The reason this time certainly wasn’t a positive one. But as Tachi was quickly learning about the archons, they tended to share information more willingly after they’d eaten something. And Tachi needed a moment just to adjust to Nahida’s presence again before dipping into any significant conversation.
He didn’t think she would appreciate him so quickly coming out and saying that Xiao had gotten worse. Maybe she even already knew. But these things needed to be approached at their own pace.
Nahida had taken Tachi to a traditional restaurant where patrons sat on cushions with their legs crossed and a table between them. Nahida flipped through the paper menu she’d been given. As soon as they walked in and were seated, Tachi had taken one glance at it then put it back down.
“I think I’ll have some samosas with a side of selva salad,” Nahida said. “What about you?”
“Minty bean soup.”
Nahida grinned. “I thought you would pick something like that.”
“What can I say? You know what I like.”
“Indeed I do.”
Conversation with her was as quick and easy as always.
“What is Liyue like?” Nahida said. “Is it still cold there?”
“It’s getting a little warmer,” Tachi said. “The weather isn’t bad. Though Mondstadt looks a lot more springlike right now.”
“Oh, you went to Mondstadt,” Nahida said. “What was that like?”
“Pretty unsurprising,” Tachi said. “Just another place, really. I had Venti reteach me how to play the flute, but that plan… didn’t go over very well.”
“You’ll have to play for me after we’re done here,” Nahida said. “I want to know what your music sounds like.”
“Not very good,” Tachi said.
“Really? It can’t be that bad.”
“It was bad enough to put Xiao in a coma,” Tachi said.
Nahida fell quiet across from him. Tachi’s face screwed up and his nose burned. He crossed his arms, averting her stare, as the waitperson visited and asked for their orders. Nahida and Tachi relayed their orders to them and they walked away.
“Oh no. Tachi,” Nahida said. She dropped the menu onto the table and outstretched a hand. Tachi reached out and held it. “Tell me what happened.”
“I was trying to make things better and I only managed to make them worse,” he said. “The first thing Xiao did when he saw me was jab a spear into my neck and demand to see Mochou.”
“He’s just confused.”
“I know, and that makes it even worse,” Tachi said. “I tried to ask the other adepti for help. I did the flute thing. I gave him the medicine Zhongli had given me. But in the end, none of it even mattered.”
“I think your perception of the situation is flawed,” Nahida said. “Could you go back to the beginning? Tell me again how your interaction with Xiao went from beginning to end using just the facts.”
This was not the first time Nahida had requested he do something like this. Nahida loved facts; a lot of her life revolved around them. And seeing it from an impersonal perspective would probably help her see something Tachi didn’t, though he doubted that in this case.
Tachi did as he was asked, explaining how the interaction had transpired from beginning to end. He ended with a summary of the things that had happened after he had spoken with Verr Goldet. How he had enlisted in Cloud Retainer for help and failed, angered Xiao, chased Venti, and played his flute so badly it had sent Xiao into a coma.
Nahida asked small specifying questions in some places and Tachi supplied eager answers. She was dissecting the events, seeing the thread that tied all the pieces together. There was no one more suited to help with this problem.
Their food arrived, leading them to briefly break to eat. Nahida shared one of her samosas with Tachi, which cheered him up an incremental amount.
He wanted to know what she thought now. He drank his soup up hastily then dropped the spoon into the bowl and pushed it away as soon as he was done. Nahida laughed.
“Do you mind helping me with my salad? My appetite’s so small that I’m not sure I can finish it all.”
“Okay,” Tachi said.
He leaned over and took the plate of salad from her. She laughed as he pushed just a forkfull of it onto her plate with the samosas.
“You always get so impatient when you want something,” Nahida said. “It’s written all over your face.”
“But does it mean that I’ll get what I want any faster?” he asked. “I know it’s gotten to be a bad habit of mine. It never used to be an issue. But now that Xiao isn’t feeling well, it’s all I can think about. It’s like someone’s gotten inside my head and keeps knocking to get out. The feeling only fades if he’s nearby.”
“I know you’re worried about him,” Nahida said. “But everything comes in due time. He’s in an unstable condition, it’s true. But stressing about it will only make you sick.”
“I can’t get sick.”
“There are some illnesses that are not physical,” Nahida said.
She smirked at that and Tachi rolled his eyes, though he felt a twinge of amusement at her words.
“True,” he said.
Nahida plucked the last samosa from her plate and ate it. Then she said, “You’ve done so much for Xiao, but you haven’t spoken to him once about what he wants. Mochou said ‘goodbye,’ but it doesn’t sound like Tachiyaku has said ‘hello.’ Why don’t you help Xiao get to know the new you?”
Because the new me isn’t very pretty, Tachi thought. And also because he’s a little occupied right now.
“We had our argument. He clearly is not interested in getting to know me even if he were lucid enough for it.”
“He’s confused and in pain. You have to be patient, especially now. Change does not come in a day. Perhaps you should do as Mochou did — show a little of your face every day. Prove that you are someone who can be trusted.”
“I would love to do that,” Tachi said. “If I thought it were possible.”
He had lost the old softness that Mochou had; he wouldn’t be able to rely on fake charm to reestablish whatever they had before. It would require work — but that did not mean he would shy away from that. It was just that Xiao was unconscious now and Tachi had no doubts about what contributions he had made to that state.
“Tell me,” Tachi said, his eyes falling on Nahida again. “When Traveler defeated the Shouki no Kami and I fell into a coma, how long did it take for me to wake?”
“Three days,” Nahida said.
Tachi was speechless. It felt a lot longer than that.
“I’ve existed for over four hundred years but that coma felt like the closest thing to eternity,” Tachi said. “I had never woken feeling more sick or worthless in my life. Like a scarab beetle whose wings had been ripped off. I was a disgusting, pitiful creature.”
“I’m sorry you felt that way,” Nahida said.
“Don’t be. I had deserved everything that was coming to me.”
“Still,” Nahida said. “That’s a terrible feeling to have experienced, seemingly with no end in sight.”
“I don’t want Xiao to be in a coma. He’s been through enough uncomfortable things already,” Tachi said. “What do I need to do to wake him up?”
“It will ultimately be up to his body to regain consciousness but medical attention helps,” Nahida said. “You said that you and Traveler left him with a doctor in Liyue Harbor?”
“Yes. And Traveler’s looking into getting more medicine for him,” Tachi said.
“That’s already a promising start,” Nahida said.
Tachi sighed. But would it be enough?
“You look tired,” Nahida said. “When was the last time you rested?”
“I don’t know.” He hadn’t slept in Mondstadt at all. Too much potential for a nightmare, the damn things.
“You should rest. When thinking about a difficult problem, it helps to give your mind a rest every now and again. You’ll be surprised what new leads can appear after you’ve had a good night’s rest.”
“It isn’t even night yet,” Tachi said. It was still only afternoon.
“That’s irrelevant,” she said. “As your chaperone, I demand that you get some rest right this minute.”
She said it all in that same breezy tone of hers, cheeks puffed out petulantly. A smile stretched onto Tachi’s lips.
“Alright, alright. You don’t have to tell me twice,” Tachi said.
He shifted in his seat and made to stand. Nahida gestured him away with a wave of her hand and he relented, bowing his head as he saw himself out.
Tachi never knew he could miss four blank walls so much.
His room was just as he had left it — completely empty save for the furniture Nahida had gifted him and the book or two he’d left out. All of them were adeptus- or Morax-related. How very predictable.
Tachi dropped into his bed with a tired huff and kicked his shoes off. He fell into the blankets and yanked them around himself.
He felt something metal digging into his shoulder and reached up to pull the vision out of its casing on his torso.
He hadn’t had the usual time to dedicate to making sure it was well-polished. His lips screwed down in a frown when he saw the specks of Xiao’s blood on its surface. How embarrassing that he hadn’t even thought to check whether he’d been completely drenched in another person’s blood after carrying him around everywhere.
Still, if Tachi could blush, he thought he probably would be. It was a little childish of him, but he had been happy to be the one to hold Xiao close, if just for a little while.
His vision-polishing would have to wait a little longer. Tachi reached toward his chest again and pulled off the red knot Xiao had made for him. Tachi sifted his fingers through the long tassel and brought it close, squeezing it in his clenched hand.
When Tachi woke, there was a knock on his door. He was still curled up with all of his trinkets pressed against his chest and his fingers creaked when he opened his hand to let them fall onto his blankets. The walls of his room blazed bright pinks and yellows from the setting sun. His room still felt warm.
He stood and walked barefoot over to the door to open it.
As expected, Nahida was on the other side with a smile and a tea kettle.
“Mind if I come in?” she asked.
“Not at all,” he said. He stepped aside to let her through then closed the door behind her.
Nahida walked over to the table in the center of his room and set down the kettle. She pulled up a seat and sat down.
“I thought since you’ve been sleeping all afternoon you might like to wake to a drink before dinner,” she said.
“That’s thoughtful of you,” Tachi said.
He sat down across from her and snapped his fingers, summoning two cups. He placed them on the table as Nahida cocked her head to the side.
“I had forgotten that you had the ability to do that. You use your vision so often that I forgot that you have other powers,” she said.
“It’s one of the only powers from my time as the Shouki no Kami that I can still use,” Tachi said. “It seems that when I got my memories back, the powers that had been sealed inside of me were released again along with what little godlike abilities Scaramouche had before he tried to erase himself from Irminsul.”
“That’s quite interesting,” Nahida said. “I suppose it makes sense that all of the powers you’ve accumulated from your past could resurface like this, but I hadn’t put much thought into how they might be used.”
Tachi scoffed. Nahida never forgot anything, especially when it came to his strength; he hadn’t forgotten the stern talking-to Traveler and Paimon had first given him once he’d recovered his memories. They hadn’t trusted him with anything larger than a flea and had insisted that he follow Nahida. Only then would things be alright, presumably because she was strong enough to handle if he defected again.
“Hm,” Nahida hummed. “You don’t seem to believe me.”
“It would be irresponsible of you not to keep track of your subordinate’s powers.”
“You have proven to me that you can be trusted with them,” Nahida said. She reached for one of the cups and lifted the tea kettle to pour tea into it. Tachi could tell from the smell that she had brought his favorite brew. He couldn’t help the smile on his lips. “Though maybe we can do with fewer broken wrists in Sumeru.”
Tachi laughed and leaned back in his seat. “No promises,” he said.
Nahida pushed his cup over to him from across the table and he picked it up. He brought the drink to his lips, feeling its bitter sting on his tongue and down his throat.
“I take it you’ll be returning to Liyue soon?” Nahida asked.
Tachi nodded. “Tomorrow. I need some time to collect my thoughts before then. Figure out what to do next.”
“Do you have any ideas?” Nahida asked.
“Not as many as I would like. I wish there were more information on the yakshas so I could at least determine a starting point. But this is a unique problem that nobody’s ever tried to solve before. Not even Rex Lapis had any good suggestions for me aside from an observation about meditation.”
“An inner cleansing of the mind,” Nahida said. She turned her eyes onto the window when she said it. A bird fluttered onto the windowsill and sang a high-pitched tune before flitting away again. “That makes sense. But it doesn’t present as a perfect panacea in this case. It only helps partially.”
“There has to be a permanent solution,” Tachi said. “To get it out of his body and store it externally where it can’t hurt him. Or at least some way to bolster his constitution so he’s more capable of carrying it around.”
He was spouting out even the most poorly constructed of thoughts. Something had to stick. And even if they were simple ideas from a desperate mind, Tachi hoped they would be enough to give Nahida an idea of where she thought his next direction should be.
Nahida stroked her chin and the room filled with the rustling of leaves outside.
“I have an idea,” Nahida said.
“You do.” As expected!
“But you’re not going to like it.”
Tachi braced himself for the worst. He placed his cup back on the table and leaned forward. “Yes? What is it?”
“There is someone you already know who has some experience in storing power, and even thoughts and feelings, inside artificial vessels.” Nahida gestured to him and made a small, wry smile. “And you are the evidence of one such experiment.”
He was a prototype. Just a proof of concept to test the ability for a puppet to handle a gnosis.
Tachi swallowed, the tea threatening to rise back up through his throat.
“No.” He slapped a hand down on the table and pushed away from her, crossing his arms. Fingers dug into his arm. “No. I won’t talk to her.”
“It was only a suggestion,” Nahida said. “But I think it’s a good one. I think it would be healthy for you to confront her. But you don’t even have to bring up your past if you don’t want to. In this iteration of the timeline, she doesn’t even remember creating you.”
“This isn’t about my past,” Tachi said. “This is about Xiao.”
“And there’s potential for this trip to help him, too,” she said. “At least consider it?”
Tachi’s lips twisted into a grimace and his teeth struck out, chewing on his upper lip. He glared at her from across the table, not because he was mad at her but because he had to be mad at someone. And she was the only other person here.
“I would do a lot of things for you,” Tachi said, “and for Xiao. But I don’t want to do this.”
“Why?” Nahida asked.
It was a one-word question and Tachi knew exactly the answer. But he didn’t want to say it aloud. It had the potential to erase two years’ worth of progress in the right direction.
“I hate her,” he said. “More than you should be capable of hating someone. If I had the opportunity to destroy her the way she destroyed me, I would not hesitate to do it. She completely neglected me, and to make matters worse, she said it was because she ‘couldn’t bring herself to intervene’ in my fate. How pathetic. As if that excuses her negligence.”
Tachi paused. He straightened his back and reached for his cup again. He held it in his hand, feeling the warmth under his palm. “If someone only exists to bring you pain in your life, you have to cut them out. That is the only way you can find peace in this world. And I have long ago cut her out of mine.”
“Even if you have more you could learn from her? Like getting closure for the pain she caused you all that time ago?”
Tachi scoffed. “Scaramouche may have grasped onto the idea of obtaining a heart until the bitter end, but I will learn from his mistakes. I won’t allow myself to feel that same searing pain of rejection or betrayal ever again.”
“But you must understand that such emotions are just another part of being human,” Nahida said. “They find their way to you, no matter how many walls you build up to keep them out. Rejecting those feelings will only end with you feeling even more bitter and resentful.”
“I’m not—” Tachi started, then stopped himself. He rolled his eyes. Although they had engaged in sprinklings of the “not human” argument before, Nahida wasn’t one to be argued with. He would save his barbed tongue for more worthy targets.
“Forget it,” he said instead.
Nahida didn’t say anything. He listened to the trickle of the tea kettle as she finally poured herself a cup of tea and brought it to her lips.
What must she be thinking? Was she disappointed? Angry?
It wasn’t like Tachi to fill silence with unnecessary babble but he also couldn’t leave things like this. He never snapped at Nahida without feeling some sting of guilt eating away at him afterward.
“See what she does to me?” Tachi asked. “She brings out the ugly side of me.”
“I think you should still give her a chance,” Nahida said. “She doesn’t even know about what she did. There’s a chance that if you explained everything to her, she could help you.”
“Or this is a chance for me to never get involved with her to begin with. I know you’re just trying to help,” Tachi said. He stared into the white-blossomed centers of her eyes and frowned. “But you don’t understand how it feels to be abandoned by your mother the way I was. I will talk to her, but this is for Xiao, not me. You are already enough family for me. I don’t need more.”
“It warms my heart to hear you say that,” Nahida said. “You and I both know that I only want what’s best for you. And if you believe that you need to keep her at a distance, then I will trust your judgment. You know yourself best.”
“Thank you,” Tachi said.
Inside, it felt like something had been torn open. A loose thread that he had been trying to keep patched up came loose, but there was still time for him to mend it back together.
As always, Nahida’s words were a difficult pill to swallow. But this time, for perhaps the first time, Tachi couldn’t find it in himself to believe all of her advice.
That didn’t stress him, though. She was learning how to navigate human emotions just as he was. There were bound to be moments where even the all-wise Lesser Lord Kusanali struggled to empathize with someone else’s situation.
Tachi was glad for that, though. He would never wish this feeling upon her. These old pains of being left behind, of blaming her for ever creating him, of making him feel that he wished he had never been born at all…
They were not pleasant feelings.
“I have a few more questions for you,” he said. “They’re concerning the coma. And if you have any advice for how I should help him get out of it.”
“You must be remembering the time that I took care of you while you were in yours,” Nahida said. “Yes, I have some advice to give. But I also had a few questions of my own about something regarding your past, actually…”
Tachi frowned. Hadn’t they explored enough of his past already?
“I’ll try my best to help,” he said. “But be warned, I’m already in a foul mood.”
“I know,” she said. “But the information is crucial, I promise. You will not regret sharing it with me. It could even be of some use to you.”
Tachi sighed, briefly closed his eyes, then opened them again. “Alright.”
Tachi woke early the next morning to make breakfast.
The upper levels of Sumeru provided space for all sorts of buildings, including the kitchen and dining room, which were both housed in the same space. The kitchen had everything a chef could ask for, from three ovens to a stovetop and a storeroom always bursting with provisions. (It had crossed Tachi’s mind more than once to nab some apricot kernels for use in some almond tofu.)
Nahida hadn’t woken yet but Tachi didn’t mind having the room to himself. He liked hearing the sound of the world waking up around him as he cooked.
He’d decided on something simpler today. Pita pockets filled with diced ingredients inside would have to do. He scarcely had the attention span to make anything more impressive than that.
When Nahida padded into the room, she carried a tome with her that hit the table with a thunk.
Tachi turned toward her and cocked his head to the side. “What’s that?”
“It’s a book about the seven nations,” Nahida said. “I thought you might find it interesting after our conversation yesterday.”
He approached and placed down two plates of food. He sat down across from her as she flipped the pages.
“You’ve been over half of Teyvat, haven’t you?” Nahida asked. “From Inazuma to Snezhnaya.”
“Technically the only nation I’ve never been to is Natlan. Not that I even really want to go.”
“And you will be returning to Inazuma soon,” Nahida said. “I think you will see that it has changed since you last visited.”
Tachi laughed. “I doubt that. I’ve seen it before while scouting as a harbinger. The land of eternity is doomed to rot in its past.”
“And what if I told you that Traveler caused a few changes?” Nahida asked.
“Then color me unsurprised,” Tachi said.
Nahida closed the book and pushed it across the table toward him. “Take it with you; you might find it useful.”
In Nahida’s eyes, this was the best gift she could offer: new knowledge. Tachi wasn’t really in a reading mood but he would find time for it. He picked it up and stowed it away for later.
“I also had one last question I wanted to pose to you before you left,” Nahida said.
“Well, out with it.”
“Are you prepared if Xiao doesn't wake up?”
Tachi swallowed. “That’s a possibility I’ve considered, yes. But that’s not his fate. It’s incomprehensible to me that this would be how things end for him.”
Tachi had always been a realist about this sort of thing. Prepared to face the truth and accept the facts of life, one including, of course, that even yakshas would one day die. But this is where he diverged from his typical personal beliefs. Xiao was different. Tachi knew that’s not how the world worked, but it had to, for his sanity. This time.
“You’ve already dealt with so much death in your life,” Nahida said. “I would never wish more upon you. But I just wanted to make sure you’re prepared in case of the worst-case scenario.”
“I always come prepared,” Tachi said. “And I have witnessed worse deaths. At least if this is how things end for him, he will have died the way he wanted.”
Tachi knew how important that was to Xiao. All that stuff about duty and his greater purpose as a protector of his homeland. And as a “slaughterer,” as Xiao had said before (despite how much the wording made Tachi want to scowl now).
“I know you aren’t satisfied with that, but that’s a good thing,” Nahida said. “It will drive you, feed you. And that drive will make a big difference in Xiao’s recovery, I can feel it.”
“Mmhm,” Tachi hummed. “Did you have any other words of wisdom for me?”
“I could tell you all sorts of things, but you’re getting that look in your eyes again that says you want to get going, so I won’t hold you back any longer.”
Tachi nodded again.
“Behave yourself out there,” Nahida said with a twinge of amusement in her voice.
“No promises,” Tachi said, unable to hold back a grin.
Notes:
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Thank you so much for reading!
Chapter 18: The Carrot and the Stick
Summary:
Tachi enters his new normal at Xiao's bedside as Traveler prepares to leave on another journey.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“So, how is Nahida doing?”
Traveler and Paimon sat across from Tachi over lunch. Tachi took another sip of the tea he had ordered and lowered a hand to cup the end of his kneecap as he folded one leg over the other. He hadn’t sought out any food this time, preferring instead to let the table pile up with all the dishes Paimon had ordered.
“Fine,” Tachi said. “How did things go with Tighnari?”
“He said that he doesn’t really know what a ‘Yaksha’ is, so he wasn’t sure he could really be of much help, but he still suggested a few things!” Paimon said.
Traveler reached into their bag and brought out a few satchels of different medicines. One of them wafted up with such a strong odor that Tachi smelled it from even across the table.
“He suggested aromatherapy as an option,” Traveler said.
Tachi thought about Xiao’s sensitive senses and his lips screwed down in a grimace. “I see.”
“C’mon!” Paimon said. “What did Nahida say? Did she have any ideas?”
“She suggested Beelzebul.”
Paimon and Traveler exchanged a look. Paimon hummed and rubbed her hands together. “O-oh, that’s a pretty funny suggestion, don’t you think?”
“Are you going to do it?” Traveler asked.
“Yes. And I want to take Xiao with me.”
Piamon started choking on nothing.
Tachi rolled his eyes at her. “What?” He snapped.
“Xiao can’t go with you! He shouldn’t be going anywhere right now!” Paimon shouted.
“Don’t you think I know that? I’m only taking him with me if he wakes up and agrees to it,” Tachi said.
“We don’t even know when he’ll wake up. And even once he does, how do you plan on convincing him to go with you?”
“All I need is some patience.”
“You really think so?” Traveler asked.
“Yes,” Tachi said. “He’ll eventually see that trusting me is the right decision.”
“It’s going to take more than almond tofu to convince him,” Traveler said.
“I know that,” Tachi said.
“Are you really gonna let him do this?” Paimon asked, turning toward Traveler. “What if Xiao gets hurt?”
“I won’t let that happen,” Tachi said.
“I’m assuming you want to talk to Ei because she’s the god of eternity?” Traveler asked.
Tachi nodded. “She might be able to manufacture a vessel to store the karma inside. He would improve substantially if he didn’t have to carry it around anymore.”
“That’s true, but…” Paimon started.
Tachi sighed and shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter whether you approve or not. It only matters what Xiao thinks.”
“You’re right,” Traveler said. “And if he agrees and says he wants to go, then I’m not going to stop him. It’s not like I have any better ideas.”
“I’m happy to hear that at least someone has some sense around here.”
“But that will only be once he wakes up,” Traveler said.
Tachi nodded. “Then I will talk to him.”
“Mmm…” Paimon hummed. “Are you sure that he has to go?”
“Yes? It doesn’t make sense otherwise,” Tachi said. “That would be like throwing a birthday party for someone who doesn’t show up. How is she ever supposed to help him if he isn’t there?”
“Exactly,” Traveler said. “But if you do this, you’ll have to travel the whole way. You can’t teleport because Xiao has never been outside Liyue.”
“I know that.”
“That’s what Paimon is nervous about. What if he gets worse?”
“Then he gets worse,” Tachi said. “We can’t just sit and wait for him to die.”
“You’ll have to travel by boat for a portion of the trip,” Traveler said. “I know someone who might be able to help with that.”
“Of course you do. Who is it?”
“Her name is Captain Beidou of the Crux Fleet,” Traveler said. “But if you want to gain passage on her ship, you should ask for Kaedehara Kazuha.”
Paimon nearly screamed at the name. She stopped herself, the wail suppressed by two hands clamped over her mouth, followed by a quick sucking-in of air. Tachi whipped his head over to her and glared. Clearly this person was… something. Whoever they were, though, he could handle it.
“Let me guess. I have to prove my mettle to them?” Tachi asked.
He’d been with the harbingers long enough to know what that process looked like. If you wanted permission to ride on someone else’s ship, there was usually someone you had to prove your worth to. Or you had to establish a debt. Transactions were likely, especially in the land of contracts.
“Not exactly,” Traveler said. A smirk grew across their lips. “You’ll see once you get there. Just promise you won’t get too mad at me.”
“Alright.”
“Paimon doesn’t want to be there for that interaction,” she said. “There might not be any harbor left once you guys are finished with it…”
“Why would you think that?” Traveler asked. “Anyway, don’t let Paimon put thoughts in your head. That’s all if Xiao wakes up, which he hasn’t yet. We should see how he is today.”
“Absolutely,” Tachi said.
Xiao had gotten incrementally better. At least Tachi could actually hear him breathing this time. His skin was still pale and there were still bruises around his neck that made Tachi feel a bright fury curl around his shaking hands.
Just seeing his notched eyebrows, the purple huadian on his forehead, and his thin lips filled Tachi with a range of emotions. Firstly, relief that he was still alive and that Tachi had his eyes on him again. But also pain and longing and anger.
Tachi wanted to touch Xiao. He wanted to pull Xiao right up against him and hold him close just as he had that one night during Lantern Rite. But instead, Tachi let Traveler sit down in the chair he wished he was occupying. Tachi hovered behind Traveler’s shoulder, his eyes never leaving the blankets over Xiao’s chest that slowly rose and lowered with his breaths.
Traveler shifted in their seat and waved the stinky thing Tighnari had given them under Xiao’s nose. Xiao didn’t move. Baizhu remained on the other side of Xiao’s bed and explained that some of the medicine Tighnari had given them would be very useful if he were awake. But as things were, the medicines wouldn’t do anything but make the conscious people in the room uncomfortable.
“Aw, rats,” Paimon said.
“Let’s leave him to rest, shall we?” Baizhu asked.
“I’m not finished with him,” Tachi said. He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Hey, Xiao. We came to visit you. Traveler and Paimon are with me.”
“Hi,” Paimon said. She gave a small wave.
Tachi turned his eyes onto Traveler. Traveler glanced back at him then toward Xiao’s bed again. They cleared their throat and said, “We hope you’re feeling better. We’re worried about you.”
“Can he even hear us?” Paimon whispered.
Tachi ignored her. “Do you remember the first time we met? Or when you first met Traveler? Nahida told me that at the time, Rex Lapis’s death was still fresh news. It must have been a very stressful time for you.”
Paimon frowned. “Is now really the time to be reminding him of that?”
“Nahida told me sharing stories and memories can foster more neural activity. It’s helping.”
“Okay, maybe. Even so, why do we have to talk about that?” Paimon asked. “Wouldn’t something happier be better?”
“It was all resolved in the end, wasn’t it?” Tachi asked. “It was all such a ridiculous plot. I thought Xiao might enjoy remembering it.”
“You have a twisted sense of what you consider fun,” Paimon said.
“You wouldn’t be the first to have told me that.”
“It might be a while before he wakes up,” Baizhu said. “Have you considered moving him to the Bimarstan for more permanent treatment?”
“I’m not really sure that’s a decision for us to make,” Traveler said. “Maybe Zhongli—”
“No,” Tachi interrupted. “Here is fine. Give it a week. Then we will talk about other options.”
“It’s doubtful that he’ll have recovered in just a week,” Baizhu said.
“He’s no ordinary human. I’m confident he’ll be feeling better in that time.”
“Okay, but if you insist on using this space, then I’m going to require a little payment in return. Let’s say… five million mora?” Baizhu asked.
Tachi stared at him and chewed on his lower lip. He let the seconds linger on, until it was uncomfortable and the room had settled with the heavy air of tension. Even Traveler was shifting in their chair.
Then Tachi opened his mouth and spun a hand in the air as he said, “It could be argued that allowing the yaksha adeptus who’s been protecting your country from demons for several thousands of years to rest here rent-free still would not be enough to thank him for his service. Have you ever considered that the only reason Liyue Harbor is still standing today is in part because of the sacrifices he made to keep people safe?”
It was a mouthful to say, but fortunately, Tachi didn’t need to breathe. Even Traveler and Paimon looked a little shocked that he had said the words so eloquently, each word slipping into the next, while keeping a steady glare aimed in Baizhu’s direction.
“You make a fair point,” Baizhu said, “and I have my own personal interests for caring for him. But it still cannot be understated that I am extending a gesture of kindness to you that I don’t often offer to others. So be grateful for it.”
“Thank you so much,” Tachi said, his intonation flat. He still meant it, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t let some of the sarcasm sneak in along the way.
“Thank you, really,” Traveler said with a light bow that Tachi recognized as a lot more genuine. “I can still offer a few thousand mora if that would be acceptable as payment.”
“There’s no need,” Baizhu said. His eyes landed on Tachi and he smiled, slow and sweet.
The expression was not unlike a certain harbinger whom Tachi didn’t miss.
Tachi sent Baizhu another shit-eating grin in his direction then turned toward Traveler and Paimon. “I’ll be staying here for a while. I still have more I want to tell Xiao.”
“Oh, um, okay,” Paimon said. “Traveler, should we stay here too, or…?”
“There’s other duties I still need to tend to, but I’m not really sure how long I want to be away when he’s feeling this unwell.”
“Stay and tell him a few stories. Or don’t. It doesn’t really matter to me; I’ll be here regardless,” Tachi said.
He hardly had anything else going on as long as his duties with Nahida were on hiatus.
“I’ll come back in a few hours,” Traveler said. “I trust you guys will be able to get along without me for that long.”
“Naturally,” Tachi said.
Baizhu, too, probably had a load of other work on his plate that didn’t involve watching over an unconscious yaksha all day.
People left the room. Baizhu was first; he hardly needed any encouragement. Traveler and Paimon lingered a little longer, babbling about catching back up over dinner or some such thing. Paimon hadn’t stopped giving Tachi a sideways stink-eye ever since he proposed taking Xiao with him to Inazuma. So, Tachi wasn’t surprised when she left with the same huffy attitude he wouldn’t be missing.
Tachi lowered his shoulders when he and Xiao were finally alone. He dropped into the chair with a clatter and hunched over, resting his chin on his curled-up hands.
He could stare at Xiao and never tire of it. Especially now, when any human with breath to spare would be holding it back and bracing with anticipation for the possible moment when Xiao stopped moving.
It was Tachi’s one great fear. That any second, while Tachi was distracted — or worse, at rapt attention — the shaky breaths would stop and the bed would become still. And all over again Tachi would be consumed by the grief and anger of a person whose only purpose in life was to destroy everything he ever touched.
But Xiao was stronger than that. He had to be. There was a trust that came with that which Tachi had to put his blind faith into.
He had never been good at putting blind faith into things. He needed results, he needed promises. Even the Doctor, as twisted as he was, had been capable of that much. But this was a leap into a darkness that stretched on with no discernible end.
Tachi had time. And so long as there was a chance he could still make things right, he would grapple for it, despite what a feeble attempt it might be.
This… This was the sort of thing a stupid, lovestruck human would do.
How embarrassing.
“Hey, Xiao,” Tachi murmured, his voice low. He summoned the book Nahida had given him and laid it out on his lap, flipping to the first page. “I had a book gifted to me recently about the seven nations that I think might interest you. I noticed some interesting illustrations of Wangshu Inn…”
Traveler had met many people along their journey. They had fallen in love with a great many of them to varying degrees, from platonic to romantic and even other layers they didn’t even have the words to articulate. They had never known their heart could be so large and could hold so many people’s wills and hopes and dreams inside.
It had been several years since they first started their journey. They’d become different things to different people — a recorder, a traveler, a stranger, an enemy… and sometimes the last bulwark for someone to lean on, a foundation that a friend could rest a weary head against and trust to be there when they needed it most.
Not everyone Traveler met had come out of the journey alive. They had lost friends along the way, some of whom they hadn’t known that well before it was too late and some whom they had seen every day with a bright smile on their face before the person’s life was extinguished too soon.
Kazuha’s friend. Teppei. Halfdan. Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. Gods, Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. The name still left a brief numb sting in their chest.
Grief never became easier. Time healed some of the hurt but could never erase it completely. They hadn’t lied when they told Xiao that company helped tamp the pain, along with other cures, like Paimon’s cheery voice.
But today especially, with the mood being what it was, Traveler struggled to find the joy in it that they usually would. They tried with little success to calm Paimon’s worries about Xiao. This was difficult because deep down, they felt the same as Paimon did. Was it really such a good idea to take Xiao to see the Shogun? Especially considering how far he would have to travel with someone he wasn’t all that fond of anymore? And that was even operating off the assumption he would one day recover enough to see consciousness again.
At least Traveler had come to trust Tachi more. Still not quite enough to leave another person completely in his care for any long stretch of time, but enough to trust that he wouldn’t do anything to Xiao if left in a room with him for a few hours.
Traveler still had a lot to do. They hadn’t saved their sibling yet, although countless steps had been made in what they thought was the right direction.
They could feel that something big was coming. That the Fatui plot to collect gnoses held a larger purpose, one that Traveler had already started to brace for. They were familiar with the swell of tension leading up to an eventual climax, breaking out into fights and in one case a battle against an archon, and this felt much of the same. Each visit with a new archon fell just into the shadow of a Fatui Harbinger’s plot to capture their gnosis.
They were hot on the heels of another such plot then, too, and Xiao’s interruptions made it difficult to focus. Traveler couldn’t slow their pursuit just for his case, as they had already exhausted most options. Tachi seemed more dead-set on finding an answer anyway.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to leave the responsibility of Xiao’s recovery up to Tachi. He seemed rightfully obsessed with it anyway, and when it came to things he wanted, he’d go to any means necessary to achieve them. Traveler had definitely learned that from him along their travels.
And Tachi loved Xiao. Traveler had known that from the second they walked into Tachi’s room and saw him staring longingly out the window with a book about yakshas in his lap that he must not have looked at in an hour.
The harder part was convincing themself that Tachi could be trusted with something as large as Xiao’s life. Nahida, too, trusted him quite a large amount, so that shouldn’t be too large a difference.
But it was Traveler’s habit to worry.
They spent the afternoon tying up loose ends and opening up new ones. Taking quests from people, completing commissions, and various other daily chores that had become just another part of the background noise in their life.
The pharmacy was closed by the time Traveler returned. Baizhu was still inside, finishing up some paperwork, when Traveler approached the door and knocked.
It was cold out. A chill on the water rose and tickled Traveler’s spine. They crossed their arms and rubbed their hands across their skin as they stared at the faint glow seeping out from underneath the door. Paimon hovered near their shoulder, quietly morose. And probably tired.
The door opened and Baizhu appeared. He smiled faintly and gestured Traveler inside.
“How is Xiao?” they asked.
“Your friend has been with him all day,” Baizhu said. “It’s getting to be quite the strain on the ears. Now that you are here, though, I will be heading home for the night. Tachiyaku insisted that he stay the night.”
A strain on the ears? Interesting. Traveler followed Baizhu to the front counter, which he slid behind. He bent down and rose carrying Qiqi in his arms. She looked to be sleeping.
“I left a set of keys with Tachi for locking the place up tonight. If anything happens to them, I will be charging you ten million mora.”
Traveler sighed. Always Baizhu and the monumental sums that ultimately meant nothing to them when the numbers got so big.
Baizhu left through the front door and Traveler walked into the back room and toward the door at the end of the hall where Xiao was staying. But something compelled them to stop just as they reached the end.
Traveler took small steps toward the door, which was cracked just slightly open, and twisted to press an ear against it.
“Oh,” Paimon hummed at their shoulder.
“...You would probably hate it. All the noise, all the hatred so pungent it almost overwhelms the taste of the food…” Tachi paused. His voice dipped into a whisper. “But that’s what made it fun. Each person has an agenda. Each person has something they would be willing to do anything for.
“That’s what I never get tired of with humans. You dangle something they want in front of them and they’ll tear themselves apart for it. And the Harbingers take that sentiment to the extreme.”
Paimon gasped at Traveler’s shoulder. Xiao’s room fell silent and Traveler pushed the door open.
Tachi was sitting hunched over facing Xiao’s bed, almost like a child whispering a secret into someone’s ear. When he heard the door open, though, he spun his head toward them and straightened up in his seat.
“You have impeccable timing as always,” Tachi said with a glower.
“You were just talking about the Harbingers!” Paimon shouted.
Tachi crossed his arms. “I was talking about the Harbinger banquets, not the Harbingers. As I said, Xiao would probably hate the whole ordeal.”
“Why were you even talking to him about that stuff? The Harbingers are bad news!” Paimon shouted.
Tachi’s face flickered with more frowning. He sucked in a slow breath. “It’s none of your business.”
“How is Xiao feeling?” Traveler asked.
“He looks the same as always,” Tachi said. “But he hasn’t gotten worse.”
“What have you been telling him?”
“Just stupid stories.”
Traveler’s brows furrowed and Tachi rolled his eyes.
“It’s Nahida’s doing. She said talking to him would help, but I’m beginning to realize I know very little about him. It’s irritating.”
“Paimon’s so tired… Why don’t you let him sleep for a while?”
“When there’s something more I could be doing? I don’t think so,” Tachi said.
“You’re doing plenty,” Traveler said. “But Xiao does need rest. And Baizhu says you were talking all day. What about you rest for a while and try again tomorrow?”
Tachi’s lips thinned into a smaller frown. Then he rose from the chair and turned toward the candlelight on the bedside table to snuff it out.
“You’re right,” he said.
“Wow, Paimon’s never heard that come from your lips before,” Paimon said.
“Don’t get used to it,” he deadpanned. “If you have more you want to say to me, let’s do it outside his room.”
Tachi strutted past them and into the hallway. Traveler followed.
“You’re going to be seeing less of us for a while,” Traveler said. “We’re about to go on a journey without waypoints and I don’t know when I’ll be back again.”
“Understood.”
“I’ll try to get back as soon as I can, though. I trust he’ll be fine in your hands?”
“Zhongli lives in this city too, if you’re so worried about me doing something to him,” Tachi said. “I won’t even touch a hair on his head.”
“Okay.”
“Paimon hopes he gets better soon… all this waiting around is gonna drive Paimon crazy!”
“Hey, at least be grateful you have something to keep your mind off things,” Tachi said. “You’re going off on an adventure.”
“Because we’ve got other stuff going on!” Paimon said.
“Guys, please,” Traveler said, lifting their hands between them. “I want him to get better just as much as both of you. And I wish I could stay. But I can’t.”
“I understand,” Tachi said.
“And as you said, Zhongli is just down the street. If you could find the time to tell him about what happened, I would appreciate it.”
“Done,” Tachi said.
“Thanks for doing this,” Traveler said. “If you weren’t here, it’d be harder to get someone to watch him twenty-four-seven.”
“He wouldn’t need anyone to if I hadn’t gotten involved at all,” Tachi said. “But that’s beside the point. Have a safe journey and I’ll see you again soon.”
“See you soon,” Traveler said.
They lingered for a second in the hallway, half expecting Tachi to say more. Paimon was still being uncharacteristically quiet, which made Traveler realize how awkward silences could be.
Tachi gestured them toward the exit and, having no other excuses to grapple for, they left.
Notes:
I read a fic today without any A/Ns and I thought, "imagine being that person"
I ALWAYS have something to say 😭I need y'all to see my vision of Tachi whispering to xiao little secrets all the time because I think it's very intimate and just a special lil thing between them!!! I can't get enough!!
Anyway, thank you for reading!! I'm very excited for the next chapter because there's some fun stuff in it. There are some scenes all in italics but they're several thousand words long so I think I will remove the italics so it's easier to read, actually.
Chapter 19: Change, The Only Constant
Summary:
Tachiyaku enlists the help of Zhongli as life settles down in Bubu Pharmacy. Xiao has dreams of his past.
Notes:
My friend helped make such gorgeous art for my fic flyer/poster!! I drew the guys but she did all the lifting, especially with the colors. Please show her some love on Twitter or Tumblr!
(If you ever have a desire to draw fanart, just know I WILL scree over it and show it to everyone!)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning…
Zhongli’s front yard hadn’t changed since Tachi last visited. The sun was a little higher in the sky than it had been since last time, but not by much. He walked up the path to Zhongli’s door, same as he had before, and Zhongli answered in his bathrobe, same as he had before.
“Tachiyaku,” Zhongli said. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“Venti visited, yeah?” Tachi asked.
Zhongi nodded.
“So you already understand the situation.”
“Some part of it, yes,” Zhongli said. “Although I have a feeling there was information he was withholding from me. Perhaps you can clue me in?”
“Do you mind if I use your kitchen first?” Tachi asked. He wanted to cook Xiao some breakfast before he got too ahead of himself. Even though Xiao had temporarily done away with the ability to chew or swallow on his own without help, Zhongli or Baizhu would help with that.
“Of course,” Zhongli said. He stepped aside and allowed Tachi inside.
Tachi prepared more food than he could ever eat by himself and left out a portion for Zhongli. Most of it, though, he wrapped into a cloth to store for safekeeping with the intent on delivering it to Xiao as soon as he could.
Zhongli slipped away to get dressed then returned to the dining room table. Tachi served him tea then sat down across from him.
Lifting his cup of tea to his lips, Zhongli closed his eyes and slowly inhaled.
“I played Xiao some flute music and he fell unconscious,” Tachi said. “He’d been fighting some monsters shortly before that. He’s resting at Bubu Pharmacy now.”
“You played flute music? And he fell unconscious?”
“I didn’t have ill intent,” Tachi said. “But it’s true that I had been playing music when we think he fell into his coma.”
“His body must be exhausted,” Zhongli said. “He must take some time to rest.”
“You should go to see him,” Tachi said. “Nahida said it helps to be in the presence of loved ones.”
“I will go after we finish with our breakfast,” Zhongli said. “You should eat some, too.”
Tachi shook his head. “I don’t have the appetite for that right now. But… thanks.”
Tachi’s throat was dry when he walked Zhongli into the pharmacy and led him down the hallway to Xiao’s room. He opened the door and felt for the first time what it might be like to have a heart that constricted and pulsed and sent a terrible chill through him when Zhongli’s eyes lowered onto Xiao.
Zhongli was quiet when he sat down at Xiao’s side and leaned over to touch his face. Tachi knew without seeing Zhongli’s expression what it might look like.
“Leave us,” Zhongli said.
Others might have interpreted the thin whisper as a request, but Tachi knew it to be what it really was: a demand.
Without another word, Tachi backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. He stood for just a second outside, fists at his sides, then strode down the hallway again.
Xiao was walking down wooden stairs that led nowhere.
The faster he descended down them, the faster they stretched on below him, like a mora weasel he was never going to capture. The stairs led him in impossible directions, sometimes sideways and steep, twisting until he was upside-down and his hair hung in the air. Everything was quiet save for the sound of his feet thumping against wood.
Once, he stopped to look around.
The scenery had changed around him again.
One minute, he stood waist-deep in water, a shadow of himself standing just on the edge of a wall of graying fog. The water had fog, too, which licked at his elbows and tickled his chin. His other self — the one cloaked in shadow — wore his Nuo mask. Bright teal eyes flickered in the mist then disappeared.
Another minute, there was nothing but wind whipping at his ears and streaks of snow and sleet hitting his cheeks. He had never felt this before — Liyue was not a land susceptible to snowstorms. And yet he felt the weight of one bearing down upon his thin shoulders.
Each place he went, he heard nothing but the singular sound of snow or rain or granules of sand crunching beneath his feet.
There were beaches and rainforests from places he had never been before and long dinner tables stuffed with food he didn’t recognize.
He felt no pain.
There was no urgency to do anything, only the urge to observe.
The dreams stretched on forever. It felt like he was in a snowglobe that got shaken up at irregular intervals, the world shifting around him but always remaining narrow and distorted as if he were seeing everything through a screen of glass.
One scene in particular stuck out to Xiao the most. He remembered the feeling of flying, large, golden wings beating in his ears and stirring his hair into the sky. Wangshu Inn floated above a sea of clouds, having been superimposed over the Jade Chamber.
When he stretched his legs out to land, his feet had been replaced with clawed talons. He knew without checking that tailfeathers had settled behind him.
How long had it been since he last felt this sensation?
He heard the crank of the elevator lifting people up to their rooms and saw the shadows of humans passing him on their way across the balcony. He heard the churning of the waterwheel whose water poured downward into a white and blue void below.
“General Alatus.”
He heard his name in his ear like the ringing of a bell. But for once, his body didn’t tense at the sound.
Xiao teleported to its source and only saw the briefest flicker of green and yellow scenery before being buried in a set of large, blue arms.
Bonanus pressed him against her bosom, her clawed hands consuming his small figure while still being gentle enough not to pierce his skin.
“You’re getting too skinny! You need to eat more!” she said.
Xiao pulled away from her, preparing a rebuttal, when his eyes fell on the other three yakshas. Bonanus backed away just enough for Menogias to pat Xiao once on the shoulder.
“And your clothing, it’s so… hm.”
Xiao looked down. The birdlike form had melted away and the clothing he’d been wearing before had been replaced with a pair of pants not unlike Morax’s. Covering his chest was a cotton shirt with enclosures on the front. He was barefoot. Where had his armor gone?
“Now look, you’ve gotten him worried!”
Bosacius crossed one of his sets of arms and clicked his tongue.
“At least that human has been watching over you while we’ve been away. That boy is spoiling you, but keep him around. He might just be enough to knock some sense into you.”
A filter of pink washed over Xiao’s eyesight. His cheeks burned.
“You mean—”
“—That troublemaker,” Indarias finished. “I like his spark. I will give him that much.”
The others laughed. Xiao just stared. When had he told them about that?
“Alatus.”
Xiao’s head perked up at the sound of his name. The other yakshas responded to the sound with widened eyes of their own.
“Morax is calling for you,” Bosacius said. “Don’t leave him waiting.”
Xiao’s chest constricted once more and he nodded. With another teleport, he was gone once more.
He arrived at the edge of a grassy cliff and tasted clouds on his tongue. Just ahead of him stood Rex Lapis, his arms folded behind him, yellow-tinged hands clasped together. His hair had been tied back into a thin ponytail that rested against his back. He was wearing an outfit Xiao had not seen in a long time — all whites and dark ambers that swayed with the wind.
This was no longer a moment in the present time. This was a memory, blurred by distance and the faulty makings of a mind that had begun to forget over time.
But Xiao had played the words over in his head enough times that he knew exactly what Rex Lapis had said. He dropped onto one knee and rested a forearm across it as he bowed his head.
“Thank you for saving me. I am forever in your debt for what you did for me. There must be something I can do to begin to repay you for the debt I owe.”
“I require nothing from you,” Rex Lapis had said. But then he turned, flashing one golden pupil in Xiao’s direction. “Although the name you carry is no longer safe.”
“I would honor whatever title you think suits me best.”
“Then you shall go by the name ‘Xiao.’”
Xiao remembered the rush of relief and reverence he had felt when he first heard the new name passed by Rex Lapis’s lips. He felt those same things too, despite it being just a shadow of a memory.
“Then it will be so,” Xiao said. “As repayment for your protection, I will offer something in return. You love this land, do you not? Then let me defend it, for as long as I am able. I will ensure your people are protected from harm, just as you protected me.”
“You cannot continue to do this to yourself.”
Those words were not the ones Xiao had remembered from the first time. Xiao lifted his head.
“You must cease this endless suffering. I cannot bear to see another yaksha destroyed because of my carelessness.”
A strike of fear pierced Xiao’s heart. “You would have me abandon my promise? Have I not done well enough?”
“You are enough,” Rex Lapis said.
He turned fully around and gold streamed from his face like melted mora. It dribbled from his chin and onto the grass, and somehow that was the only sound that reached Xiao’s ears.
“We love you, Xiao. Please, come back.”
The sight of his dear archon brought to tears was enough to terrify him.
“Zhongli-daren, I was the careless one. I’m sorry,” Xiao said. He looked down at his hands, at the fingernails, wrinkles, and veins that felt so real and warm under his touch. He hunched farther forward, pressing a hand against his chest where he felt his heart beating. “I’m sorry.”
He felt his skin begin to burn and fissures formed on the palms of his hands. One after another opened like a floodgate that welcomed in the pain that he had eluded for too long. It consumed him rapidly, tearing apart the cloud-filled, golden visions from his dreams, leaving behind only the shadow of a figure he didn’t understand.
Xiao’s hands tensed, and this time, he felt the weight of his body and the beat of his heart in his ears.
Over 400 years earlier...
It was twilight out.
The kabukimono had seated himself on the low back porch of Katsuragi-san's house. He had pulled open the screens that led inside, allowing sakura blossoms to scatter across the tatami mats as he attempted to groom his hair.
Each day, it felt like it was getting longer and longer. And each day, the kabukimono hated it a little more.
He never knew he had it in him to hate. But when his comb caught on another knot and he heard a voice whispering in his ear about “such a shame it would be if you pulled even a strand of it from your head,” he bit his lip to keep from frowning.
He always depended on other people to brush his hair for him. Just as he relied on others to tie his tasuki, cook his meals, and teach him bladesmithing.
What he disliked most about his hair, however, was how it reminded him of Mother.
He heard footsteps from inside the house and turned to greet Katsuragi-san with a smile. To his surprise, though, it was Niwa.
“I thought I'd find you here, Kabuki," he said.
“That's not my name," he said, somewhat grumpily.
Niwa approached and sat down beside him. He tilted his head to the side, luring the puppet's eyes toward his, and smirked.
"Oh?"
"Never mind, forget it," he said.
"No, now I'm curious. What is your name?"
The kabukimono hesitated. He actually didn't have one in mind. All he knew was that he didn't want to be the wandering eccentric anymore.
It was a fine name, to be sure. And names were something given to you by others, which was why he treasured that his family had given him this one.
He had thought up a name for himself when Katsuragi-san had first asked him this question on Nazuchi Beach, but he'd been too confused and hesitant to say it.
“Maybe... Tachiyaku?" The kabukimono asked.
Niwa stroked his chin. "That's an interesting choice. You learned that word from the actors playing stock characters at the play we saw the other night, right?"
Kabuki nodded.
"It's not bad. But it's kind of funny that a puppet would want to be named after a human actor in a play..."
Oh, never mind! Niwa was right.
"Forget that name, it's stupid," Kabukimono said.
"Okay, then what about something else?"
The kabukimono frowned. He was done running around the issue.
He looked up and said, “Kuniyuki.”
The name meant happiness and good fortune. Although the kabukimono hadn’t understood entirely what happiness had meant when the people of Tatarasuna first told him, he had seen the joy sparkling in their eyes and thought it must have been a good thing.
“That name suits you,” Niwa said. “If you would like, I can start calling you that.”
“You can?” He asked. His eyes shone but he hesitated. “Everyone in the village already knows me as the kabukimono.”
He reached back and pushed hair out of his eyes. When it fell down again, he grunted and shoved it behind his ears.
Niwa shuffled in his seat and gestured to the silken strands of hair. “Is your hair bothering you?” he asked.
“Yes, it bothers me!” he answered. "Kabukimono doesn't feel right. And my hair doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel like anything fits.”
“Names can be changed and hair can be cut," Niwa said.
The kabukimono's eyes widened. "Really?"
“Yes. Why not?”
“I want a human name, but I’m not really sure I should have one.”
“If you want one, then one you shall have,” Niwa said. “Kuniyuki, let’s cut your hair.”
“I am confused. How can you change the parts of yourself that you don’t like so easily?”
“Change is the only thing that never changes,” Niwa said.
Kuniyuki cocked his head to the side and Niwa laughed.
“What I mean is, change is a fact of life. People are always growing and changing, even you. Now. I will be right back.”
Kuniyuki's’s back was rigid when Niwa returned carrying a hand mirror and a small, sharp dagger. Niwa sat down facing Kuniyuki and held out his hands, palms up, proffering the blade to Kuniyuki.
Kuniyuki swallowed and accepted it.
“In our tradition, when someone cuts their hair, it symbolizes the end to an era of someone's life, and the beginning of another,” Niwa said. “In others, when a loved one passes, the grieving will cut off a lock of their hair.
“Some people consider hair to be sacred. But still others just consider it another thing that has to be done from time to time.”
Kuniyuki adjusted his grip on the knife’s handle and frowned. What significance did this have for him?
Niwa cleared his throat. “I’m getting too introspective! I’ve never cut hair before, but it seems self-explanatory. Why not bunch it together then cut through it all at once?”
Kuniyuki nodded and gathered all his hair into one hand. He twisted, all the tresses twirling together, and brought it up against his ear. He heard the hiss of the strands sliding against one another as he confirmed his grip on the knife.
He never would have expected the sound of the knife tearing through his hair to sound like this. He felt the hair falling away, forming a silken cluster on his lap.
Kuniyuki had expected his hair to put up more resistance but he had to do very little sawing. His hands ended up empty and he put the knife down.
Niwa stared at him.
He couldn’t speak.
His shoulders felt so light! And there was so much hair in his lap and on the floor! Had all of that really been on his body before?
Did it look bad? Was Niwa gawking because Kuniyuki had ruined it? It would never grow back; he was artificial, after all.
But it felt right. Masculine. Like it always should have been this way.
“Here,” Niwa said, lifting up the mirror.
Kuniyuki accepted it and stared.
His lips immediately stretched into a grin. The hair was a little longer on one side than the other. But it was short, only the bottoms of his ears peeking out from underneath the sharp cut.
The hair snapped against his cheeks when he whipped his head to the side quickly enough, and he noticed a longer length of it resting against his nape that he had failed to trim to the same length as the rest.
It felt almost like the tailfeathers of a bird, which made Kuniyuki smile.
“That will have to be cut,” Niwa said.
“No need,” Kuniyuki said. “I love it. I love it, I love it, I love it.”
He dropped the mirror onto the floor and lunged forward for a hug. Niwa smelled like sawdust and pine needles. Niwa’s hands found Kuniyuki's waist and relaxed there.
He was so happy he could cry. And in fact he was, unashamed of the awkward hiccuped laugh that shook from his lungs. These tears didn’t taste salty like sad ones did.
“Kuniyuki?” Niwa asked.
Kuniyuki pulled away and dabbed at his eyes. “Sorry, I’m just so happy.”
“Then I’m glad,” Niwa said. “I really can help you trim it a little to be more uniform, though.”
“Okay,” Kuniyuki said.
Niwa picked up the knife again and adjusted his position.
Kuniyuki and Niwa sat in silence for some time afterward, Kuniyuki recollecting his emotions as hands brushed against his artificial skin.
Outside, the world had dipped into night.
Today marked the eighth day of Xiao’s coma.
Whether for better or for worse, Tachi had fallen into a routine of keeping himself occupied lest he be driven to madness.
He spent mornings at Zhongli’s house, preparing Xiao breakfasts that would have to be blended back down into a mush he could easily consume since he did not have control over his throat muscles or mouth.
Tachi spent days doing every matter of things with Xiao — reading aloud, sewing, knitting, and sometimes even playing music, although nothing held Tachi’s attention for very long.
He had begged anyone who knew Xiao and would listen to come and share stories of their lives with Xiao. It was common during the day for a steady stream of voices to be coming from Xiao’s room.
Zhongli visited every afternoon. Some other adepti did too, including an old woman and at a different time a blue-haired lady with horns.
They were all better at handling silence than Tachi was.
When Venti stopped by yesterday, Tachi felt brief relief that he was no longer the only chatty one who caught Baizhu’s silent, but annoyed, ire.
Traveler had spared a second to visit yesterday, too. They had looked how Tachi felt — worn out. Sad. Worried.
Tachi didn’t have anything positive to tell Xiao most days. And in retrospect, Xiao and Mochou had spent very little time together — less than a year.
Zhongli had known Xiao the longest and yet told Tachi that Xiao had always kept his distance from even him. And Zhongli, too, struggled to think of memories they shared that were not tinged with conflict.
But they all still tried, Tachi especially.
He touched Xiao very little, worried Xiao would get upset after all the insisting he had done that Tachi leave him alone. When Tachi spoke to Xiao, he did it gently, as you would to a baby. He whispered to Xiao about inconsequential things like the weather or what he had made for breakfast.
Tachi started to feel more comfortable telling Xiao all the little embarrassing things about himself that only Nahida had discovered through careful observation. Like how he was picky about how his belt was tied or how he secretly missed the sound of Tulaytullah's Remembrance and how it jingled when he fought.
He knew he was just getting a little antsy. It had been a week. When Tachi left for Zhongli’s house today, Baizhu gave Tachi a look that he knew meant that if Xiao didn’t wake up today, there would be discussions tomorrow about moving him to the Bimarstan.
Moving Xiao would be enough stress on his body as it was, but to have him separated from Zhongli and the others who knew him could only slow his recovery more.
There was nothing Tachi could do but try his best. He had already consigned himself to the truth that they would be leaving Liyue tomorrow.
Tachi left Zhongli’s house and walked back to Bubu Pharmacy. He had learned that, unlike Sumeru and Mondstadt, people here did not like it when he flew past their roofs.
He brought back mashed apples that he had made into a consistency that he thought Xiao might be able to stomach, lifting the lidded bowl to Baizhu when he entered the pharmacy again.
He strutted down the hallway to Xiao’s room and slid into the half-opened door.
“I’m back,” Tachi said to Xiao as he approached the side of his bed.
The room was a little more lived-in than before. A black knitted hat and scarf hung off the bed frame behind Xiao’s head. A stack of books sat on the bedside table, which Tachi placed the food atop. He dusted off his chair, picking up the Nahida doll he had been working on.
Tachi leaned forward, setting his forearms on his legs. Xiao didn’t move, his hair still perfectly splayed behind his head. Sweat ran down the side of his face and the bedsheets lifted and fell with slow breaths that Tachi had gotten particularly good at identifying.
“Hey, Xiao. I know you’re tired. But if you can hear me, I just want you to know that you’re moving tomorrow. It’s about to get a lot harder to see Zhongli every day,” Tachi said.
When Tachi had been in his coma, he hadn’t heard or felt anything. At least, not that he could remember. But maybe some subconscious part of Xiao would listen to him.
Xiao didn’t move. Tachi sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He was still sweating. Tachi stood again and rifled in the bedside drawer for a rag.
What Xiao probably needed was an ice pack in case he was getting a fever. There was one just a room over, Tachi knew. Or if there wasn’t, Baizhu would find a way to get one.
Tachi left and went to grab one.
When he returned, he rolled an insulated bag of ice between his two hands and opened his mouth.
“Hey, Xiao, do you…”
The rest of Tachi’s question died on his tongue.
He dropped the ice pack on his foot.
Xiao’s arm had moved, from being flat on the mattress to curling around his chest. Fabric bunched between his fingertips where he left a loose grip on his shirt.
Tachi picked up the ice pack and dumped it on his thigh as he slid back into his chair. He clenched his hands together and stared.
Xiao’s mouth had opened an incremental amount. His breaths were heavier. Suddenly, he didn’t look like a shell of a person.
Tachi brought his clasped hands up to his mouth, running a thumbnail across his lips.
This was it. It was happening. Xiao had woken up. He hadn’t even prepared what he was going to say! What if he had to say goodbye again because Xiao couldn’t stand the sight of him?
Before Tachi could get another thought through his mind, Xiao opened his eyes.
What had he been so worried about? All Tachi could think about now were the gold flecks in Xiao’s eyes and how they made Tachi freeze up like a deer sighted down the length of an arrow.
“Mochou,” Xiao whispered. He tried to sit up and winced, slipping back down. He pressed a hand against the side of his head. “...No. Tuh…”
“Tachiyaku,” he filled in. “Good morning, Xiao. It’s good to see you again.”
Notes:
GENDER EUPHORIC TRANS KABUKIMONO ETC. REAL!!
Fun fact (that I think I mentioned before possibly): I first started writing this fic before I had even reached Liyue, and as a result, there were some bits of lore I was not privy to because I hadn't met Xiao or done anything in Sumeru, obviously. I watched videos but still managed to miss a few things. Upon a review, I decided to leave my fic as-is.
Canonically, the kabukimono says he doesn't mind his name since it's one the people gave to him (or something to that effect). But I thought maybe he'd like something a little more... him, I guess. AND he wasn't canonically found on the beach, either!! That was a lie Katsuragi shared with people so they wouldn't ask questions about the pavilion. But I decided to stick with my altered story because the vibes were very good.
I am so glad we got to meet like this today on the usual Wednesday posting day after the recent stuff with the DDOS attacks. Be gay but don't do those crimes!!
Chapter 20: Morning Breakfast, Evening Sunset
Summary:
Xiao and Tachi settle down in Zhongli's home.
Notes:
Content warning for: brief mentions of suicidal ideation
Also, maybe this is a little presumptive of me, but just in case the grammar near the end of the chapter trips up anyone, Tachi talks uninterrupted across multiple paragraphs. So, it looks kind of like this:
"He started talking in one paragraph.
"Then started a new line, but it's still the same speaker, so there were no closing quotation marks.
"That was until this final bit of dialog."I just don't want to confuse anyone because it is weird as hell!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Xiao became aware of the beating of his heart in his ears.
Then the whispers returned and old pain settled on top of him like a blanket of wolfhooks. He brought a hand up to his chest, grasping at the fabric there.
He heard the sound of someone in the room with him. Or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him again. It was difficult to tell what was a dream and what was real anymore. Even though he was slowly beginning to wake up, his head felt weighed down by the same fog he had seen in his dreams.
Xiao forced his eyes open. Sunlight hurt but he pushed past it. The walls were white, too, warm like a spring day in Liyue. He turned his head to the side, hearing a crinkle like an itch under his ear.
The man in the chair next to him stared at him, his eyes widening. They looked like crystals, glittering with purples and blues.
Xiao would recognize those clothes anywhere. And the hair that fell perfectly in the middle of his ears.
“Mochou,” Xiao whispered. No, wait. He didn’t go by that name anymore. Xiao knew the name began with a “T” but he couldn’t remember anything else. He tried to sit up but failed, feeling the pulse of a headache, and sunk back into bed with a hand pressed against his temples. “...No. Tuh…”
“Tachiyaku,” he said. “Good morning, Xiao. It’s good to see you again.”
His voice was crisp. Businesslike. Nothing how Mochou would have talked. But it wasn’t necessarily rude or mean, either.
“What happened?”
“You fell into a coma,” Tachi said.
Xiao stared at him. That… that made sense. So that’s where all those dreams had come from. And why he still felt like he had half a foot in a coffin.
“Before we get too ahead of ourselves, I have something I need to tell you.”
“Yes?” Xiao asked.
Tachi paused. He stopped playing with his hands and grasped his knees instead.
“I know that I am not Mochou. Not strictly anymore, at any rate. But I meant it when I said that I cared about you. And I’m asking— no, I’m begging for another chance.”
He bowed his head, his hair falling forward, as Xiao stared.
His mind staggered at the words. He thought over them slowly, reconstructing the pieces in his head. He started to remember things. He remembered secrets whispered on the roof of Wangshu Inn. He remembered the pain that had settled after him once Mochou left, how he had spiraled so deep that even the return of Mochou’s likeness left a resentful, betrayed feeling in Xiao’s heart.
“Why should I give you that chance?” Xiao asked.
“By all accounts you shouldn’t. I have done terrible things to innocent people. But we are connected by kismet.”
Xiao’s eyebrows furrowed. He was still groggy, his brain following just a second later than his body. He half-believed that he was in a dream. He suspended reality for a second, allowing himself to dig into what Tachi was actually saying.
“Kismet means ‘fate’ or ‘destiny,’” Tachi supplied when Xiao didn’t say anything.
“You think we have a destined bond,” Xiao said.
Tachi nodded. “There must be a reason we met.”
Xiao didn’t know what to say. His body hurt. He sighed, closing his eyes for a second, as Tachi said, “You’re heating up. I brought you an ice pack.”
Xiao opened his eyes again as Tachi handed it to him. He lifted it up, pressing it against the side of his head. It numbed the pain for a second, but only right there. The rest of his body was still searing with little pains. And his hearing was beginning to act up again.
He heard another set of feet enter the room and turned to look. It was a man Xiao recognized from once before. Xiao had passed out once and woken to the man looming over him, attempting to help, before Xiao had gotten up and fled. It seemed time had finally caught up with him.
“So, you’re awake,” the man said.
“Am I alive?” Xiao asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
The man gestured to Tachi. “This one has been keeping a vigilant eye on you.”
Tachi didn’t say anything. His eyes still sparkled and he curled his lips tightly shut.
Xiao’s mind stuttered. He felt his consciousness flicker and he seethed. He turned back toward the green-haired man. “Who are you?”
“My name is Baizhu, and you’re resting in the back room of my pharmacy.”
Xiao had known that he wasn’t home but he would not have imagined resting in such a place. Panic made itself comfortable as he once more attempted to get out of bed and once more failed. He caught sight of his hands in the process and flinched.
Wispy energy emanated from him in varying shades of black to dark teal. He was familiar with this energy, although never to this ferocity without being paired with his Nou mask, spear, and a sparring ground.
He had to get out of here. It wasn’t safe.
“I have to go,” Xiao said.
Teleporting wouldn't work. If he tried, he’d probably only succeed at tearing himself apart. His legs and arms shook when he moved, forcing his head forward. He leaned over the edge of the bed and nearly hit the floor before Tachi stepped forward and nudged him back into the pillows.
Though the touch was gentle, it felt as though he’d just been punched. He saw stars.
“You risk putting yourself in another coma if you’re not careful,” Tachi said.
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Rest,” Tachi said.
“When there are demons that need to be fought?” Xiao asked.
“You will die if you go back out there. You must know that, right?” Tachi asked.
Xiao stared at him. He was serious, his arms loosely folded over his chest. Xiao realized his hat was missing. The violet hair looked mussed.
“But I can’t stay in the city.”
“Then we will find you somewhere else to say. But the answer is not to put yourself in more danger.”
He needed to go back out there. He needed to do something.
“I’m getting Zhongli,” Tachi said.
Xiao remembered how he had seen Rex Lapis crying in his dream and flinched. “No. He doesn’t need to see me like this.”
“Like what? Alive?” Tachi asked. “The more you resist, the worse it’s going to get. Look. You just eat your breakfast and I will be back with him.”
Tachi left no room for protesting. He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Xiao and Baizhu in a room alone.
“You must feel exhausted,” Baizhu said. “I’d like to run some small tests on you to make sure you’re stable.”
“Do I have to?” Xiao asked.
“It will be useful. I will be quick, and it won’t hurt.”
“...Alright,” Xiao said.
He watched Baizhu clear out the chair Tachi had been using and sat down. He warned Xiao right before touching his wrist, feeling his pulse. Xiao took in a slow breath as his stomach ached.
“You should eat something,” Baizhu said.
He reached for a container settled on top of a stack of books. Baizhu handed it to Xiao along with a spoon.
Xiao lifted the lid and squinted. It smelled sweet.
“What is this?” Xiao asked.
“Applesauce, I think,” Baizhu said.
Xiao shoveled a spoonful into his mouth. It didn’t taste like anything but he was all the more grateful for that.
“Tachiyaku made that for you, too,” Baizhu said. “He’s been essentially camping out here since you arrived eight days ago.”
“Hm.”
Xiao glanced over the room again. He read the spines on the books stacked on the table: The Seven Regions of Teyvat: An In-Depth Guide, The Snezhnayan Survival Guide, Verses of Equilibrium, and, at the very bottom, an old copy of Yakshas: The Guardian Adepti.
Baizhu touched Xiao’s shoulder and he winced.
“Your shoulder is still recovering, I see,” Baizhu said.
Xiao almost didn’t know what Baizhu was talking about. He had gotten hurt? And then he remembered nearly being choked to death and winced again.
He thought about Tachi as Baizhu ran his hands over the tops of his shoulders.
He closed his eyes and imagined Tachi sitting down in front of him with a book open in his lap. Xiao could hear the gentle whisper of his voice and a determined frown on his small lips. He would sit with one leg crossed over the other and a hand tucked under his chin.
The image came to him easily. That was indication enough that Tachi had been doing that a lot lately.
The malice, hurt, and grief Xiao had felt over Mochou was strangely absent. It didn’t upset him to imagine Mozhou’s smile anymore. Mostly, Xiao wanted answers from Tachiyaku.
He heard footsteps down the hallway before Baizhu was finished with the checkup. Baizhu moved away as Zhongli entered the room and Xiao bowed his head as much as he was able.
Zhongli looked so different from the version of himself that Xiao had just seen in his dream. The set of his shoulders was different, less imposing, and his frown felt less heavy.
“Zhongli-daren,” Xiao said.
“There’s no need for that,” Zhongli said with a wave of his hand as he approached. “How are you feeling? Are you still hurt?”
“You do not need to worry about me,” Xiao said.
“That is a yes,” Tachi’s voice floated from the doorway.
Zhongli looked down at his hands. “Your karmic debt…”
“I— I can handle it,” Xiao murmured, his voice low.
He could not allow Zhongli to worry about him. That was the last thing he needed right now. It was bad enough that he was not able to fulfill his duties as demon conqueror and even worse that Zhongli had come in person to see him like this. How shameful.
“Speak some sense into him,” Tachi said. “It would be a death sentence if he goes out like this.”
“He is right,” Zhongli said. “I implore you to rest.”
“I refuse to do that here,” Xiao said. “I need to be away from other people.”
“I understand the situation,” Zhongli said. “Then you shall stay at my place until you are well enough to travel back to Wangshu Inn.”
Xiao licked his lips. His eyes darted to each person in the room. Although their serious expressions weren’t malicious, they didn’t need to be. The tension was enough to make Xiao’s stomach churn. He sucked in a sharp breath, and then another, the grip on his blankets tightening just a little more each time.
Tachi nudged past Zhongli and crouched in front of him. Xiao’s cheeks burned with embarrassment at being confronted like a child.
“It’s okay,” Tachi whispered. “We’re just here to help you. Zhongli only lives down the road. Why don’t we get settled over there? We’ve overstayed our welcome at Bubu Pharmacy as it is.”
“Alright,” Xiao said. He extended a slightly shaking arm to Tachi and turned to push his legs off the side of the bed.
Tachi hooked his arm under Xiao’s and helped him onto his feet. Xiao leaned heavily against him, feeling gravity tug him down. His legs had become jiggly like tofu.
How degrading.
Tachi led Xiao outside and walked with him to Zhongli’s house.
Xiao disliked every second of it.
He had never had to lean on someone else for support before. It didn’t feel good. He would have much preferred walking here on his own two legs, but he found he wasn’t able to. He wasn’t even going to try, finding that he could not dare risk making an even larger embarrassment of himself.
Tachi’s touch was gentle. It was Xiao’s feet that felt like they were walking on burning coals.
How had he become so sensitive to the feeling of the sunlight on his skin and the earth beneath his shoes? The karma had been bad before but now it sent all his senses into overdrive. He was one tender figure of flesh.
They reached Zhongli’s house and Tachi opened the door to go inside.
The place was completely obscured by curtains that blotted the sun out. Xiao would not be asking for them to be pulled open.
“I think he has a guest room this way,” Tachi said.
They hit a hallway and walked down it. Tachi stopped at the first door he found and pushed it open.
The room didn’t look like it had seen use in some time. There was a mattress, a covered window, and a chest at the end of the bed frame. The mattress was bare with no sheets on it. Tachi walked Xiao over to it and he sat down.
“I will be right back,” Tachi said.
He left the room and Xiao sighed.
While he was waiting, Zhongli appeared in the doorway.
“Make yourself at home as long as you need,” Zhongli said. “I can get whatever you need.”
“Please, don’t,” Xiao said. “I am already intruding enough. I can’t possibly ask more of you.”
“I insist,” Zhongli said.
He approached a closet and opened the door. He pulled out a pillow and a square of white fabric.
Tachi marched back into the room carrying an even larger bundle of fabrics in his arms. His eyes fell on Zhongli and he frowned.
“You don’t need to worry about getting him set up in a room,” Zhongli said. “I have this covered.”
“You’re not usurping me,” Tachi said. “I was here first.”
Zhongli laughed. “Technically speaking, you were not, but if you are so insistent, then I will allow you to help.”
Tachi walked back up and held out an arm. “Let’s stand up for a second so we can make the bed. Then you can lay back down.”
Xiao let out a long, tired sigh as he reached for Tachi’s arm again.
Once Zhongli and Tachi finished setting him up with a room, Xiao lay back in bed with one hand over his heart and the other flat on the mattress. Tachi added another layer of curtains to the window when Xiao murmured a comment about the sun being too bright.
Tachi implored Xiao to eat medicine he’d acquired from Traveler and Xiao obeyed without asking twice. Afterward, Tachi set up a burning incense across the other side of the room that made Xiao’s tongue taste like peppermint.
And then Tachi and Zhongli left.
Xiao was used to being alone.
But he was not used to feeling so nervous. As if anticipating the swing of a hammer to his head and not being able to dodge out of its way.
The brain fog had started to clear only once he had spent some time thinking in silence. He truly hadn’t expected to ever wake up from Dihua Marsh again and a part of him hadn’t wanted to. To die would have been easier, but to continue living would require effort. He had finally outlived his usefulness if he could no longer fight.
How was he going to ever recover from this? It was a useless venture. All the other yakshas had fallen to it. The fact that he even woke from his coma at all could well be considered a miracle.
There seemed no path ahead for him at all. He would die this way, either in days or weeks. Left to languish in the pain that had swallowed up Bosacius and all the others. It would chew away at him until there was nothing left but a shell of his old self, which would fold into itself and be torn apart.
Xiao had told himself in the past to always brace for this possibility but actually facing it was a different story altogether. It was one thing to imagine fighting this unconquerable fate and eventually losing to it but an altogether different thing actually facing it.
Tachi stopped by when the sun began to set to see how he was doing. The room had gotten much darker but Tachi didn’t light any candles, allowing the walls to remain deep navy hues. Tachi stood in the doorway, backlit by the lights in the hallway.
“Zhongli says you should come out for dinner,” Tachi said.
Xiao could protest and say he didn’t want to go. But it was Zhongli; he could not say no to him.
“Okay,” Xiao said.
He had been sleeping on and off all day, attempting to recover some of his strength. He tried then to stand once more and got farther than he had last time, rising on shaky legs.
Tachi watched as Xiao took small steps toward the doorway then followed him back to the dining room.
The evening’s cook had custom-made Xiao something for dinner.
A plate in the center of the table had an assortment of different things that Xiao and the others were free to choose from and drop onto their empty plates. But the cook had been kind enough to get Xiao started with a bowl of steamed rice topped with slivers of chicken.
“How are you feeling?” Zhongli asked as Xiao sat down.
“Fine,” Xiao said.
It wasn’t a complete lie. But that inevitable end was still approaching.
Zhongli leaned forward and filled his plate with food, plucking some vegetables and meat from the pile.
Xiao swallowed and looked down at his bowl. His stomach was already churning and he hadn’t eaten anything yet.
He spared a glance and caught Tachi staring at him from across the table. He looked exactly like Mochou. The same roundness to his cheeks, the same length to his hair and sliver of mischief in his eyes.
Xiao’s eyes lowered to his chest. The red knot he had made Tachi rested over his heart, right over an anemo vision.
He had kept the parting gift Xiao made him. And he had acquired a vision?
Zhongli cleared his throat and Xiao’s eyes drifted to him.
“Tachiyaku. Why don’t you tell us more about your time in Sumeru? What is it like there?” Zhongli asked.
“It’s very humid there, and green,” Tachi said. “The landscape is similar to Liyue in that flying makes it much more navigable.”
“What does a typical day there look like?”
“I wake up at sunrise and make breakfast,” Tachi said. “Then, after Nahida has come down and eaten, we usually go to the Sanctuary of Surasthana together. Or we’ll meet with various other officials. It depends on what she needs done for the day. It might be sorting scrolls or it might be fighting eremites. I’m not particular about the work.
“We usually close out the day with a walk and dinner. Afterward, we retire to our separate rooms, then resume the same thing tomorrow.”
“Interesting,” Zhongli said.
Xiao lifted a helping of rice to his mouth and chewed as Tachi spoke. Tachi’s life had become so different to how Xiao had imagined it. What had he seen while he was away? What made him think that he could not come sooner?
I wanted to be someone who could look you in the eye without feeling ashamed.
At the time, Xiao had been too deep in his own pain to process Tachiyaku’s words fully. But now they were all he could focus on. Ashamed? Ashamed of what? His heart hurt thinking about it. He needed answers.
“And Nahida,” Xiao said, attracting Zhongli’s and Tachi’s attention. “She is the one you went to find to recover your memories.”
“Yes. The dendro archon and god of wisdom, Lesser Lord Kusanali.” He said it with a sort of reverence that Xiao was familiar with. It was the same tone he used to talk about Rex Lapis.
Thank the gods she was at least the positive force Xiao had been hoping she would be. He had been preparing for a chance that she wasn’t, but this was better.
“What do you think of her?” Zhongli asked.
“She is very… kind,” Tachi said. “I would not have lasted in Sumeru for that long if I had to work with anyone else. Although I still don’t entirely understand why she chose to spare me, I’m not going to take it for granted.”
“It is true that she is one of the kindest of the archons,” Zhongli said. “I’m glad that you see that in her.”
Xiao swallowed and stared at him with wide eyes. “She spared you?” From what?
Tachi opened his mouth and then closed it again. He looked over at Zhongli, who smiled and continued eating.
“When I came to her, I had forgotten my past. It turns out that in my past life, I had done many atrocious things to others. I didn’t remember any of it because my past self had tried to erase himself from existence and failed. Although nobody remembered what he had done, not even himself, his body still remained.”
“Why would he do that?” Xiao asked.
“Because he couldn’t live with what he had done anymore.”
Xiao put his chopsticks down.
“Let us talk about lighter things,” Zhongli said. “Why don’t you share more about Sumeru? Or perhaps you can share with Xiao your trip to Mondstadt.”
“I think I’ll spare you that discussion today,” Tachi said. “Xiao looks like he needs a moment.”
“You don’t need to do anything on my account,” Xiao said.
“I still am very much in the business of wanting to, though,” Tachi said. He sighed and turned back toward Zhongli. “I’m not sure I’m the right person for small talk anyway. I don’t have anything all that interesting to share.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Zhongli said. “There is always something more that can be learned from others. Why don’t you tell me more about…”
He continued talking but Xiao tuned the words out. He was more focused on filling his stomach as much as he could. He couldn’t let himself get too wrapped up in what Tachi had said — it was nothing that should have surprised him that much. And it wasn’t like it had that much significance for him anyway.
Xiao’s mouth watered and he had heart palpitations by the time dinner was over. Zhongli cleared the table and went to clean dishes as Tachi offered to help him back to his room.
“I don’t need your help,” Xiao said.
Tachi rolled his eyes. “No, of course not. But I had a question for you. Do you mind if we talk in private?”
Xiao’s eyes tracked Zhongli across the room but Zhongli waved them away. “Don’t mind me. Go on ahead.”
Zhongli cleaning up on his own wasn’t right. But Tachi left no further room for discussion, nudging him toward the guest room.
When they entered the guest room, Tachi went to the bedside table and lit a candle. The rest of the room remained dark save for its faint orange flicker. Did Tachi know he was sensitive to light or did he just not want to be seen? Perhaps there was no brighter light source available.
Xiao sat down on the edge of his bed and drew in a slow breath. Tachi pulled up a chair and sat down across from him. The sight was too familiar to how he had woken up that morning; Xiao didn’t like it. It wasn’t exactly the same position but it didn’t need to be.
“What was your question?” Xiao asked.
“I actually didn’t have any questions,” Tachi said. “I wanted to hear what you’re thinking. So, tell me. Do you have any questions for me?”
The questions were too numerous to choose just one. Xiao sucked in another breath and looked over him. Tachi had taken off his outer layers, exposing the white of his shoulders. Black covered his chest and arms all the way down to his fingers, which worked over each other in his lap. Was he nervous or just bored?
“What happened?” Xiao asked.
How had he changed so much yet remained the same in some ways?
“We parted ways and I went to Sumeru. There, I met Nahida, and with the help of Traveler, I learned what had become of my past self. After some consideration, I agreed to take those memories back. Afterward, I stayed working with Nahida in return for what she had done for me. On my birthday, Traveler visited and asked about you. And I… didn’t take very well to that. But I eventually agreed to come back.”
“Why?” Xiao asked.
“Because I missed you?” Tachi asked. “I didn’t want to miss my last chance to see you before it was too late.”
Too late. So Tachi knew, too. He knew that this was his fate.
“You missed me yet you stayed your distance,” Xiao said. “I missed Mochou more every day. Yet you denied me the relief of seeing him again. Why?”
It’s a question he had asked once or twice before. But each time Xiao asked, the answer never managed to satisfy him.
Tachi sighed, long and slow, even though he had told Xiao before that he didn’t need to breathe.
“You deserve someone better than this,” Tachi said with a gesture to himself. “I have killed people. I hated and loathed so deeply that it drove me to do unthinkable things in pursuit of power that never would have given me what I wanted. When I imagined how devastated you would be to find out what happened to Mochou, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It’s as they say— ignorance is bliss, isn’t it?”
None of that mattered. It didn’t matter how terrible a person he had been. Xiao had still wanted him, just as he did now. Mochou was still inside there somewhere, mixed together with a person whose eyes had followed Xiao into his dreams.
Thousands of thoughts ran through Xiao’s mind. Tachi hadn’t known how he was doing until Traveler told him? Had Tachi really thought that Xiao was better off without him?
“You have something on your mind,” Tachi said.
“Did you only come because you had no choice?” Xiao asked.
“Yes,” Tachi said. “I had always planned to return. But ideally after I had more time to… recover.”
“From everything that had happened to you in your past life,” Xiao said.
Tachi nodded.
This wasn’t the answer Xiao had wanted. Of course he had wanted something else — some more tangible reason why Tachi couldn’t return. Like incarceration, or more memory loss, or being divided by a whole continent. The truth was better and worse in some respects — nothing life-threatening had happened to Mochou while he was away. He had stayed away as his own version of mercy, but Xiao had never asked for that.
He was familiar with evil acts; he had committed his share of them, too. Although that was one part of his past that he hadn’t told Mochou much about.
“I know it doesn’t excuse what I’ve done, but for the record, I missed you every day,” Tachi said. “I thought about you all the time. I kept telling myself, ‘tomorrow. Tomorrow I will be good enough.’ But that day kept getting pushed farther and farther away.”
“I don’t need ‘good enough.’ I don’t even need ‘good’,” Xiao said. “I need— I need…”
He didn’t even know what. It seemed incomprehensible that anything would be able to fill the void inside him.
“You don’t need me. You still have a chance to change your mind about that,” Tachi said. “I haven’t yet told you about my past life.”
“I want to hear about it.”
He needed to, for his own sake.
“It’s not very glamorous,” Tachi said.
“That does not matter. I need to understand what happened to you.”
“Well, we have all night,” Tachi said. “Then I suppose I’ll start at the beginning.”
“The first memory I remember was of a dream.
“There was a cloudy sky, tainted by the shades of a thousand different colors from a setting sun. Cherry blossoms had left marks all across the ground. There was a woman standing with a paper parasol underneath one of the trees.
“She turned toward me and smiled.
“There was something about her that made my heart stir. She had long, loose hair, not unlike mine. And such a gentle expression.
“When I awoke, I was crying.
“I was laying on my back staring up at the ceiling. At the time, I had no comprehension of anything aside from a rudimentary understanding of what a human looked like.
“I had the misfortune of being able to hear what the other people in the room were saying about me. I heard my mother say, with her own lips, that I was unfit to be the vessel for her power.”
Tachi stifled a laugh. “I wish I hadn’t heard any of that. If only I could have been spared from the truth and continued on in ignorance.”
Xiao swallowed but didn’t say anything. Tachi continued.
“When I woke again, she had already abandoned me.”
He told Xiao how he had escaped from the pavilion and wandered Nazuchi Bleach until Katsuragi found him. It had been hundreds of years since he had said that name. It felt naked without the honorific.
Tachi spent very little time talking about adjusting to life with humans. He mentioned that he lived with Katsuragi-san while Niwa and the other blacksmiths taught him their trades. He mentioned how he had made no attempt to blend in, yet over time, naturally, he had started to better understand how he could at least pretend to be human.
The memories were too old, too soft, and too painful. Xiao didn’t seem to mind the omission of the happier moments, though.
“They were good people. They were my family. But I would ultimately become their downfall.”
Tachi had never told someone else the truth. Traveler had seen it with their eyes alongside him. But to say the words aloud — to acknowledge that he had been deceived and lashed out unjustly — made him grimace. He told Xiao what had actually become of Niwa and how he had reacted to the lies he’d been told.
He didn’t want to mention the sick child but it was next. As soon as Tachi said “child,” Xiao’s eyes widened.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t kill him,” Tachi said. “He did eventually die of his illness, though.”
Xiao’s shoulders dropped. Tachi’s lips drew into a thin line.
“He promised he would be with me forever. An impossible promise I know now, but at the time I didn’t understand. ‘When you make a promise, you must follow through with it. And if he said eternity, then he meant it.’ That’s what I thought.
“But humans are fragile creatures. They are not meant to exist forever. And I didn’t understand the concept of mortality. That when you kill something, it will never return. Your actions have consequences.
“His death ripped me apart. I was devastated. Grief filled me with a flurry of emotions I had never felt before. In my anger, I set the house where we were staying on fire. And then I sat inside and clutched the doll he had made to my chest.
“This was the first of many times that I wished I had never been born.”
“That’s terrible,” Xiao said.
“The reign of terror started here,” Tachi said with a wry smirk. “I had a vendetta against humans now. That people I cared about would betray me filled me with anger. I lashed out at whichever blacksmithing clan I fancied. I was not afraid of the repercussions — this was just payback. Afterward, I left Inazuma for good.”
“It got worse than this?” Xiao asked.
“Naturally. I met a harbinger who invited me to join the Fatui. I didn’t know it at the time, but I also met the rat from Tatarasuna again. He was a harbinger too, naturally.”
Xiao grimaced. That was how Tachi felt about the whole ordeal, too.
“There’s one thing you need to understand about me,” Tachi said. “The circumstances that led to my ascension as a god were a series of unfortunate events that, little by little, ate away at me. I denounced the world. Human emotions, gods, love, life… what are all of these things? What do they mean to me? What greater significance might they have in my life?
“When I joined the Fatui Harbingers, it was because I wanted to see the world burn. I wanted to become a blank slate once more, one that I could fill with the power I thought would make me whole.
“But I did not have a heart to hold these things. I needed a heart. A heart was the only thing I still had left to grasp for.
“The manipulator from Tatarasuna performed painful surgeries and experiments on me to prepare me for my gnosis and for his own twisted gains. It was a mutual agreement — I undergo a little pain, he promises to deliver me a vessel for my gnosis.
“In the meantime, I performed my duties as a harbinger. Often, the work was boring. But sometimes…”
Tachi sucked in a breath. He remembered his time in the abyss. How it was so interesting that he could not feel pain, yet even he was not immune from the torment that place had caused him. He remembered once being told — no, overhearing it, actually — that he was only in the sixth spot because the abyss could not kill him. He was not strong, he was just “resilient.”
Xiao hadn’t said anything this whole time, but he opened his mouth then.
“Have you ever thought that you are a product of your circumstances?” he asked.
Tachi shook his head. “Things had been so bad for so long that at the end, I convinced myself my life must have always been fated to turn out the way it did. With the gnosis I had labored over for centuries ripped from my hands as I begged for it back. I remember clawing my way through tubes, siphoning off whatever foul thing was keeping me alive, my throat raw from the screaming.
“Then the cord at my back snapped, and I fell from my chassis. I hit the floor, then everything went dark. I fell into a coma then.”
“You have been in a coma, too?” Xiao asked.
Tachi nodded.
“Did you have dreams?”
Tachi shook his head. He smiled bitterly. “For once, no. My sleep was cold and felt eternal. How ironic, considering.”
“I could not stop dreaming,” Xiao said. “It was pleasant. The most calm I’ve had in a long time.”
“I’m glad,” Tachi said. “Mine was very much the opposite. I woke feeling terrible. Nahida was there. We made an agreement about what I was to do next, even though I don’t like making deals with gods. They’ve left enough disgusting tastes on my tongue, but I had no choice.”
Xiao would not be able to understand that sentiment, but it was okay. Tachi could only hope he was beginning to understand why.
Tachi was happy enough just to see him alive, even if he was frowning. Tachi remembered things he had learned about Xiao from conversations he had had with Verr Goldet a long time ago. How Xiao always sought to do good, while Scaramouche would have delighted in crushing any granule of hope he could find between his fingertips.
“When you fell, someone was there to catch you. But when I fell, there was no one,” Tachi said. “That is the difference between us. I kept falling. And falling. Until there was no way I could get back up again. My life had been built on lies. When presented with Irminsul, I finally took the chance I had been looking for to completely erase myself. The blank piece of paper I had sought for so long was finally achieved.”
“I’m in no position to judge,” Xiao said. “I had my moments where I felt similarly. If Morax had not found me during my enslavement to a certain god, I very well could have ended up in the same position.”
Tachi scoffed. “I struggle to imagine you turning your spear on anything but a monster. I’m glad Zhongli saved you. No one should have to tread the path I have.”
“But it led you to me,” Xiao said. “Clouds have silver linings.”
“Every cloud has a silver lining,” Tachi corrected.
“You know what I meant,” Xiao said.
“Yes, I did.”
Tachi could imagine without looking that Xiao was blushing. It was a sight he had missed. Did you know that when you blush, your cheeks turn purple? From the way Xiao reached up to hold his head in his hands just then, it seemed he remembered.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” Xiao said. “Even with circumstances being what they are. Seeing your face again has been… comforting.”
“I feel the same,” Tachi said. “I have to ask. Now that you know who I really am, can you bear the sight of me?”
Xiao let out a light laugh. It came out husky, probably from his illness, but it made Tachi feel warm.
“You do not plan on killing anyone soon, do you?” Xiao asked. “If you promise not to, then I do not see an issue. Zhongli would not have let you into his house had he thought you were a threat.”
“I think from what I just told you I’ve proven otherwise. But you’re right in that I’m not a threat to you. I can’t speak for other people, though. After all, part of my agreement with Nahida is delivering punishment to those who deserve it.”
“It sounds like you are already on your way to righting the wrongs you have committed,” Xiao said. “I think I understand better why you agreed to get your memories back.”
“It’s twisted of me, but I had a hunch something like this would happen. I can’t lie and say I’m not satisfied that I at least understand your circumstances better. It had been the one thing bothering Mochou the most.”
“He always did seem pretty insistent upon understanding me better,” Xiao said. “It is one of the things I am relieved to see carried over.”
Tachi wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had known that bits of different parts of his personality had remained from different parts of his life, but he hadn’t been very aware of that particular piece. He’d be shocked if there were another person who understood him so well.
“We’ve probably talked for too long already,” Tachi said. “You need rest.”
“I am assuming you will want to share the room.”
“Only if you know it won’t interfere with your sleep. I promise I won’t keep you up with any noise.”
“Mm, it would seem that the doting side of you still persists, too.”
Tachi scoffed. But his core would not let him avoid the embarrassment the comment brought. Xiao’s face started glowing a light blue that was suspiciously reminiscent of anemo power. Tachi glanced down and immediately covered his chest where the sigil was lit up.
But that was not the only marking that glowed. There were his hands, his hips, his throat. He had become just like the branch of Irminsul that Nahida had given him, glowing all over. The more he tried to conceal it, the more obvious it became, until Xiao started to laugh.
“Shut up,” Tachi grumbled.
“Mmhm,” Xiao hummed.
He closed his eyes and slid incrementally deeper down in bed.
There was so much left that Tachi still wanted to say. Xiao had once again succeeded at diverting the attention away from his health. His prospects weren’t looking good, but now that Tachi knew they were on some level of positive terms with each other, he ought to ask about Inazuma.
But that could wait until tomorrow morning.
Tachi leaned forward and snuffled out the candle. The room dipped into darkness save for the low glow still emanating from his chest.
“Night,” Tachi whispered.
“Good night,” Xiao muttered back.
Tachi grabbed his chair and lifted it to carry it to the other side of the room. He’d already spent enough nights staring at Xiao from next to his bed; tonight, he’d try to get some sleep, too.
Notes:
Me when
me when my favortie guy laughs and smiles and— 🥺Thank you for reading!!!!
Chapter 21: Xiao, The Honorable Yaksha
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Tachiyaku woke early the next morning.
The sun hadn’t come up yet by the time he wandered into the kitchen to get started on breakfast. Zhongli’s kitchen was stocked with everything he could imagine, though some of the cookware was dusty from lack of use. He rinsed anything he needed before using it.
There was something so pleasant about just the sound of a spatula knocking against a skillet as birds tweeted outside. He had never thought about the action much, but Tachi found it a lot more relaxing when he knew Xiao was conscious.
Zhongli emerged from his room not long after dressed in a waistcoat and black slacks.
“Good morning,” Zhongli said.
“Hey.”
“How did last night go? Is he doing well?” Zhongli asked.
“No,” Tachi said. “But he’s doing better than he was before. Still not what I would consider ‘stable,’ though.”
The skillet crackled and Tachi turned back to his eggs. They were done. He turned to an empty plate he’d left on the counter and scraped the scrambled eggs onto it.
“He’s in quite a precarious situation,” Zhongli said. “We must provide him whatever relief we can.”
“Oh yes, I’m aware,” Tachi said. “That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about. I spoke with Lesser Lord Kusanali and she mentioned the Shogun as an option. Now that Xiao and I are on neutral terms again, I think it’s likely I can convince him to agree to go with me.”
“He would be leaving Liyue,” Zhongli said. “That is… not ideal.”
“I will be with him the whole time,” Tachi said. “He might even find the trip interesting. It might teach us something. And if it doesn’t, at least we can say that we tried.”
“Allow me to speak to him first,” Zhongli said.
“Will you help me convince him?” Tachi said. “He’s going to kick his legs at first. Probably sprinkle in some insistence that he can’t because there will be no one to protect Liyue…”
He refrained from rolling his eyes. Some selfishness every now and again might just save Xiao’s life.
“That is exactly what I was thinking,” Zhongli said. “But have no worry. I will speak to him about it.”
Tachi nodded. “He should be waking soon. I’ll leave breakfast to you. I have to go to the harbor anyway.”
“Already arranging to leave?” Zhongli asked.
“Preparations are going to take a while,” Tachi said. “We might even have to wait depending on what ships are in the harbor. But it pays to think about these things in advance.”
“Indeed it does,” Zhongli said. “Thank you for making breakfast, as always.”
Tachi shrugged. He had tied an apron around his waist that he now reached around to remove. “Not like I had anything else better to do.”
When Xiao woke that morning, his mind was completely silent and it stank of peppermint. Tachi had lit some incense again, and while Xiao had initially written it off as just being a personal choice, now it was obviously doing something to help.
Mentally, he might have been feeling a little better, but physically, it was still as bad as ever. His body shook of its own volition. His head hurt, nearly blinding him with the squeeze of its grip on his eyes. He had to take deep breaths just to get his eyes open the first time. It only got incrementally easier to keep them open after that, with Xiao much preferring to squint.
His bedside table had a few things on it that hadn’t been there previously. He noticed a glass of water, a small drawstring bag — the same sort Zhongli used to store his Remedium Tertiorum in — and a doll.
He knew this doll well; it was the small version of Mochou that he had made for Xiao so long ago. But why was it here? Had Tachi left? Or was this meant to be a more casual return of a gift he had lost?
Xiao forced down the medicine Tachi had left him then rose. Some of the medicine was unfamiliar to him. Whatever he had taken yesterday hadn’t felt like it had helped at all. But if the incense had been enough to silence the voices, then perhaps he ought to give mortal medicine a try, too.
He left his room and walked barefoot into the kitchen where the wooden floorboards bit into his skin. He knew not to check for splinters.
“Good morning,” Zhongli said.
He was standing by the sink, his back facing Xiao. He turned and smiled.
Xiao bowed his head and nearly collapsed from the shift of his weight. His hand struck out for the edge of the dining room table and he squeezed the lip under his palm.
“Good morning.”
“How are you feeling?” Zhongli asked.
“I am managing,” Xiao said.
“Come, sit down. Tachiyaku made breakfast.”
“Where is he?” Xiao asked.
He braced for the answer. He did not want to hear it for fear that he had permanently left.
“I sent him away for a while so we could speak in private.”
Xiao slowly exhaled and sat down. He didn’t think he could handle more standing.
The breakfast plates clinked as Zhongli set them down, along with bowls of rice, cups of tea, and a teapot. He put down two sets of chopsticks and then sat down across from Xiao.
Xiao’s stomach growled. He picked up the chopsticks and started eating before Zhongli could worry that he wouldn’t.
But the gleam in Zhongli’s eyes told him he had already failed that test.
His heart sank. What were they going to talk about? Had he done so badly that Zhongli was speaking to him in private to reprimand him for his actions?
No, Rex Lapis— Zhongli— was not that cruel. But it was still a warranted possibility.
He had failed. His plan of dying in service of others had failed, and now he was here, taking up space and time in a body that hardly listened to him any longer.
He had already asked himself yesterday what future could possibly await him. But now the suspense of his answer was right in front of him.
The texture of eggs on Xiao’s tongue was an uncomfortable one, but he would push past it. He needed nutrients. There was toast, too, that he found more palatable. Xiao had to hold back from greedily scarfing down the bowl of rice at the end.
Once breakfast was over and tea had been sipped, there was nothing else to wait for.
Zhongli knew this. He was playing the room by ear, taking his time to speak, as he so often did. He took a moment to take a full drink of his teacup then put it back down. He leaned backward in his chair and folded his hands on the table. Xiao glanced at the geo markings running up his arms.
The string of words left Zhongli’s mouth slowly. Xiao brought his tea up to his mouth and tried to sip on some of it to alleviate his pain, but once Zhongli had hit the end of the sentence, the cup was on the table.
“From this day onward, I have ended our contract.”
Xiao choked on his tea and hunched over the table as he started to cough. Each sharp suck of breath felt like someone tugging at his vocal chords, tearing them open.
A chair scraped against the carpet as Zhongli moved to help, but Xiao lifted a hand to ward him off. He covered his mouth and hacked out as much breath as he could, finally clearing the passageway. When he pulled his hand away, his hand was tainted with flecks of his blood.
Xiao’s palm curled into a fist, but he was too late. Zhongli had already seen it.
“I know I cannot fight right now, but— but I—”
Xiao started to speak but Zhongli shook his head and Xiao slumped back into his chair.
It was pointless. He had to uphold his promise and this was his punishment.
“There are so many of our comrades who have fallen over the years,” Zhongli said. “It was always from war and bloodshed. Have you ever stopped to dream of having it end some other way? I have seen you spend enough of your life fighting. You deserve to spend some of your time on this earth enjoying the beautiful country I crafted.”
“I gave up those dreams a long time ago,” Xiao said. “This is my dream. To fight for you. To defend Liyue. Will you not let me hang onto that final dream?”
“There is more to life than fighting,” Zhongli said. “I do not wish to see it destroy you. I am done witnessing those I’ve loved die.”
“It would have been an honorable death,” Xiao said. “Now I have nothing.”
“Your purpose in life is not tied only to your utility to others,” Zhongli said. “You have an inherent worth outside of that.”
Zhongli sighed, bringing a hand up to massage his temples. Xiao would be doing much of the same if he felt comfortable enough to break his composure.
“It was negligent of me to let this run on for so long. My apologies,” Zhongli said.
A chill ran down Xiao’s spine. “You meant to end things sooner?”
“To spare you from this fate.”
Xiao looked down, staring into the grain on the table. He had spent so much of his life fighting, slaughtering… it was an integral part of his identity. In fact, it was his identity. How could he exist without it? What would become of him now?
He had felt weak before, but now he couldn’t even look Zhongli in the face without feeling like crying. He was useless. Worthless.
Zhongli pushed his chair back once more and walked around the table. He knelt at Xiao’s side, and Xiao turned to see him, his cheeks already beginning to burn.
“Do not kneel for me,” Xiao said. His voice came out in a wispy whimper. “I should be kneeling for you.”
“Enough of that,” Zhongli said. “I am just Zhongli of Wangshen Funeral Parlor. You outrank me now, honorable yaksha.”
He said it with a small, wry smile. Xiao wasn’t sure he had ever seen such an expression on Rex Lapis’s face before.
“I am not honorable,” Xiao said.
He was already crying and he hadn’t even noticed. He reached up and wiped the wet from his eyes. Zhongli offered up his open palms and Xiao dropped his hands into them with a deep sigh.
“I do not want us to remain in a transactional relationship,” Zhongli said. “I have gone along with it for long enough. You do not let anyone get close, and time again, I have felt the pain that rift has made between us. I do not wish to be your master. ‘Friend’ is a much better-fitting word.”
“I… I need some time,” Xiao said.
Zhongli nodded. “I understand.”
He rescinded his hands and Xiao pressed his palms against his stomach. He felt like he might lose his breakfast.
“Please take what I have said to heart,” Zhongli said. “You don’t need to fight to be worthy of love or anything else. Your faults do not make you any less significant. I understand that your time in enslavement changed you. But you long ago repaid whatever debt I was owed from saving you.”
“I owe you everything,” Xiao said. “I just can’t imagine a life where things are different.”
“You must try,” Zhongli said. “Liyue is going to continue to grow and change. And we must try to grow with it.”
“I understand,” Xiao said.
“Would you like a hug?” Zhongli asked.
Xiao almost laughed at the suggestion. It was enough to make his cheeks flare up once more.
He didn’t say anything when he opened his arms up and closed his eyes.
Xiao smelled Zhongli’s comforting scent before he felt arms around him. Zhongli was warm. Teeming with life. He could have lifted Xiao up if he wanted. His arms were gentle, even if the weight of them was uncomfortable around Xiao’s torso.
Xiao heard the crack of the front door opening and froze up. Zhongli moved away and Xiao fell back into his chair, hurrying to dry his face.
“I’m back,” Tachi called.
He walked into the dining room carrying something wrapped in fabric. When he met Xiao’s gaze, his eyes lit with fury. The same anemo Xiao had seen decorating his body last night flared again. Tachi turned his eyes onto Zhongli.
“We were just discussing Xiao’s contract,” Zhongli said. “It has been terminated.”
Tachi sighed and placed his gift on the table. “I brought you something.”
It smelled sweet. Xiao braced himself as Tachi unfolded the fabric and pushed it over to him. It revealed two dumplings, still freshly steamed.
Xiao rested a hand over his stomach. Was he hungry enough to eat more? But the others’ looks of concern were enough to tell him he ought to eat.
He picked one up and held it in his hands. It was so soft, it felt like it was going to melt in his palm. He bit into it and sighed. This definitely reminded him of other times. But at least those other times were good.
“Let me get those for you,” Tachi said.
He reached over and grabbed the empty plates on the table. Xiao winced at the hiss of the faucet as Tachi turned it on. Xiao closed his eyes to shut it away.
“Liyue Harbor is beautiful in the morning, is it not?” Zhongli asked.
“It’s okay,” Tachi said. “The view from Wangshu Inn is better.”
Xiao turned around in his chair and stared at his back as he worked. The fresh pain of his conversation with Zhongli didn’t sting as bad when Tachi was here to distract him with conversation.
“What did you do while you were out?” Xiao asked.
“Nothing special,” Tachi said. “Went to the docks. Most places are still closed. Didn’t have much else to do, so I wandered back here.”
Xiao hummed.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” Tachi said, sparing Xiao a glance behind his shoulder. “But it can wait a few hours. I can see that you need a moment.”
“No, I am fine,” Xiao said. “Please, tell me.”
Tachi glanced back at Zhongli but Xiao couldn’t see whatever expression he was making.
“I have an idea how to help you with your karmic debt but it would require leaving Liyue.”
Xiao froze. An idea? He hadn’t considered there would be anything but death looming on the horizon for him. But Tachi thought there was something more they could do?
“What is it?” Xiao asked.
“The electro archon has experience with storing things in external vessels, as you know,” Tachi said.
“You would have the weight that is my responsibility to bear be issued to a ‘vessel’?” Xiao asked.
“Possibly,” Tachi said. “Nothing is sure yet. We will only get answers once we go there in person.”
“Which is another reason why you must leave this contract behind,” Zhongli said.
Xiao’s lips drew into a thin line. It was true that he never would agree to leave with the contract still established, but he would still be thinking of it constantly.
“I see…”
“We would be taking a trip. Traveling by boat can be an experience, especially for someone who has never been on the water before. But I already know a ship that would be willing to take us. It’s slated to arrive at the port this afternoon.”
“You are well-prepared,” Zhongli said.
“Some of it is Traveler’s doing,” Tachi said. “They agreed to talk to the captain of a ship on our behalf. I think it would be unwise of us to look a gift horse in the mouth, hm?”
“Yes,” Xiao said.
“How has the medicine been?” Zhongli asked. “Has there been any marked difference in your body at all?”
“The voices are gone,” Xiao said. “But otherwise, things are about the same as usual. I am sensitive to sounds and certain textures and tastes. My body feels very heavy. My head feels a little foggy.”
“You must make sure to rest,” Zhongli said. “And continue to take your medicine.”
Xiao nodded.
“I want to go somewhere today,” Tachi said. He turned off the sink faucet and turned back toward Zhongli. “What does it take to get invited up into the Jade Chamber?”
Zhongli laughed. “You sure are aiming high.”
“I tend to do that.”
“There is not much up there for you,” Xiao said.
“If you want to visit some Liyuan tourist spots, what about the opera house? You have already heard one of their performances.,” Zhongli said.
“Perhaps, but the Crux Fleet is supposed to arrive this afternoon. Wouldn’t a show run later than that?”
“Some shows are actually hosted during daytime,” Zhongli said. “Like the one playing today.”
“Oh.” Tachi looked surprised.
“Would you like to go to one with me?” Zhongli asked.
Tachi glanced over Xiao again.
“Go, I do not mind,” Xiao said.
The karmic debt that had been seeping out of him last night was gratefully not glowing from him anymore. But he could still feel the tingle of it on the surface of his skin. He would not be willingly going anywhere where he might run into other mortals.
But that did not mean that he needed to stifle Tachiyaku and Zhongli in the same way. If Tachi wanted to go to a show, then he ought to be free to.
“I will consider it,” Tachi said. “But that will not be until much later anyway. Let’s take the rest of the morning to prepare for the trip.”
“I’d like to find some time to meditate,” Xiao said.
“That’s a good idea,” Zhongli said. “Feel free to use the meditation garden in my backyard if you would like.”
He gestured to the wall where Xiao assumed the garden was on the other side.
Xiao rose and immediately shot out a hand to keep himself anchored before he teetered back into his chair. His head fogged up and he reached to pinch the skin between his eyebrows.
Zhongli and Tachi stared at him. He cleared his throat.
“I will be fine,” Xiao said to the room, then took another step toward the back door.
“I’ll stop by again before we leave for the show,” Tachi said.
“Okay,” Xiao said, sparing one glance back at him.
He made it the rest of the way across the room and to the door handle. He tugged the door open and slipped out the crack into the sunlight on the other side.
Zhongli’s garden was almost larger than the indoors itself, decorated with trees, flowers, and stones all arranged around a winding path.
Xiao noted a stone figure of the exuvia lined against one of the walls blocking the backyard in. A river ran through the garden, clogged with algae overdue for some cleaning after the cold winter.
His eyes fell on a mossy rock near the center of the garden and he approached. He fell more than sat down on it, crossing his legs in the way he typically would. Xiao’s body screamed, feeling like nails being scraped down his back, but he pushed ahead. He dropped his hands into his lap and sucked in a long breath.
Tachi and Zhongli stared at Xiao as he rose to his feet and ambled through the door into the backyard. Tachi turned his eyes onto Zhongli once more, who took a long sip of his tea.
“When is the show?” Tachi asked.
“Three hours, at noon,” Zhongli said. “You can go and pick up tickets now if you would like, however.”
Tachi scoffed, his lips spreading into a smirk. “You’ve got the wrong idea about me if you think I’ll obey your orders just because I’m another archon’s helper.”
“Of course, it was merely a suggestion,” Zhongli said.
The room fell silent. Tachi heard the faint drip of water in the sink’s basin. Zhongli continued drinking his tea, immune to the awkwardness of a silent room.
“You told Xiao his contract had been terminated,” Tachi said.
Zhongli nodded, closing his eyes. A small smile played on his lips. How ridiculous, that he could smile at something like that.
“Mind explaining why he was crying?”
“He still has much to learn about his emotions,” Zhongli said. “I am sure that’s something you can empathize with, hm?”
Tachi scoffed and looked off to the side. Having trouble with his emotions, then? Yes, Tachi understood that feeling. He had been having to deal with it this whole time. Learning how to identify and handle different emotions did not come naturally to him. It had taken a long time to come to terms with the fact that he had them to begin with. It was only after that realization that he could even begin to consider how he would know what to do with them.
Xiao made it seem that he was incapable of anything but indifference and the rare smile. But he could cry. He could hurt. That was not such a bad thing, Tachi was learning. It was good to cry. It was good to let it out. But he hadn’t expected that when he first returned to Zhongli’s house.
He didn’t want to see Xiao crying. He wanted to see Xiao happy, which seemed just as unlikely as any other emotion.
There was not much else to say. Tachi settled back down into his chair across from Zhongli, his foot encountering Zhongli’s under the table. Zhongli barely moved, though, and Tachi retracted his touch.
Not every silence needed to be occupied with unnecessary discussion. But Tachi’s eyes had just dropped onto the table and noticed the vase of windblumes on the table for the first time.
“Oh, I see how things are,” Tachi said.
He leaned forward and plucked one of the flowers from the vase. He twirled it in his hand, watching it catch the sunlight as Zhongli opened his eyes into a squint, golden irises peering at Tachi’s smug smile.
Venti had been here, Tachi knew, but he didn’t know he had brought flowers. And if Tachi wasn’t mistaken, the way Zhongli kept his eyes trained on his cup of tea, refusing to meet Tachi’z gaze, was indication enough that he has his own feelings to contend with.
“It isn’t so easy to get rid of your past, is it, Rex Lapis?” Tachi asked.
“There is no need to get rid of anything,” Zhongli said. “Only building atop what is already there.”
“Mmh,” Tachi hummed. “By the way, where do you keep your spare blankets?”
Notes:
aka the chapter where I make Xiao CRY!!
Thank you for reading as always!!
Just out of curiosity, I checked future chapters and I'm averaging 3k for a few more weeks before the chapters get more chunky. How exciting! I had to reshuffle some chapter numbers because some got merged together so now there's just a chapter named "panic attack" with nothing in it. Oh, if only that were true 😂
Chapter 22: Sing a Little Song for Me
Summary:
Tachi, Xiao, and Zhongli go to the opera ahead of their departure to Inazuma.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Some time later…
Preparations for their trip to Inazuma were minimal. Tachi couldn’t think of them needing much of anything aside from some extra bedding and clothing. Ever since Tachi had found Xiao in Guili plains and torn up Xiao’s top, he’d been relegated to wearing thicker, more comfortable clothing.
Menogias had made some clothing for Xiao too, in the form of an intricately designed green and white hanfu that Zhongli casually pulled out of his closet like it was nothing.
“Why doesn’t he ever wear this?” Tachi asked as Zhongli handed it to him and he unfolded it, staring at the way it unfurled to the floor, revealing the emblem of a bird on the sleeves. It was thinner than silk curtains, layers of material bundled together.
“He must be prepared for battle at any time,” Zhongli said, “and he thought it wasteful to risk damaging the delicate material in a fight. Menogias made him other designs that are more modern that he is just as comfortable with.”
“Xiao didn’t strike me as the sort to care about appearances,” Tachi said.
“He doesn’t, though he cares about preserving what he can of his family’s legacy, and Menogias’s designs are part of that.”
Tachi tried not to think too hard about having ripped one of them open. He had indeed patched the shirt up while Xiao was in his coma, but once again, Xiao did not need to be in fighting gear right now. Buttoned shirts and free-flowing pants would do.
“Do you mind seeing if Xiao would like to accompany us to the opera?” Zhongli asked.
“He’s going to say no,” Tachi said.
“Perhaps if the right person were to convince him…”
Zhongli lifted his head and gave Tachi a knowing look.
Tachi sighed. How had it come to this? Was he letting just any archon boss him around now?
“Why should I? Does he not deserve some time to himself, especially given the alternative will only make him feel worse?”
“This might be the last I see of him in a very long time, if at all,” Zhongli said. “Our last memory together deserves to be a good one.”
“You sure are thinking morbidly,” Tachi said. He folded the hanfu back up and sent it away into his pocket dimension with a snap of his fingers. “Not that I haven’t, though.”
“I feel I am not alone in wishing he would get a chance to relax,” Zhongli said.
“I will ask, but still. My hopes are not high.”
Tachi’s shoes crunched on granules of sand as he stepped outside onto the path winding up through the backyard. He approached the rock where Xiao had settled, Xiao’s head already turning an incremental distance toward Tachi to show that he was listening.
Tachi stopped in front of Xiao. The rock was large enough that they were level heights.
“Zhongli has asked me to see if you would like to join us at the opera.”
“I am not going,” Xiao said without opening his eyes.
“That’s what I told him,” Tachi said. He exhaled a deep, dramatic sigh. “Oh well, I suppose I’ll have to go back and let him know. I just hope he isn’t too disappointed.”
One golden iris peeked open. “You are testing me,” Xiao said.
“Am I?” Tachi asked, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re not bound to his contract anymore. You are free to refuse his wishes. But we’re leaving for Inazuma this afternoon; this might be your last chance to spend some time with him.”
Xiao sighed. Then he slowly unfolded his legs and opened his eyes, a hand reaching out for the rock to support his descent. Tachi extended an open hand and Xiao accepted it, dropping onto the ground with a light grunt.
“Zhongli will be overjoyed,” Tachi said in his flat intonation. Xiao glanced back over Tachi and he pulled a small smile. “I’m just kidding. Of course he’ll be happy.”
“I am not sure about this. I will only bring the mood down.”
“We’ll sit in the back,” Tachi said. “Trust me, even from back there you’ll be able to hear them.”
Xiao hummed, the sound tinged with what Tachi assumed was trepidation. He would learn quickly enough that all would be alright.
Xiao began to believe more and more that agreeing to go to the opera was a mistake.
Tachi fell into step next to Xiao, following Zhongli up the paved pathway to the opera house. This was not what Xiao had been hoping for; he had been hoping they would hold the performance outside, as was a frequent custom.
But Xiao always prepared for a worst-case scenario. Zhongli and Tachi intended to cram him into a room with ignorant bystanders, people who could be harmed from his karmic debt. Should that come to pass, he would not hesitate to acknowledge it and bring up a reason why he might no longer be able to join the audience.
“I have never been inside a Liyuan opera house,” Tachi said. “The harbingers have their equivalents in Snez for this sort of thing, but I’ve noticed they have different tastes for what is considered a good-looking interior for many buildings.”
“Our newest architecture is the Jade Chamber,” Zhongli said. “Most other buildings are hundreds of years older. The opera house, too, naturally.”
“We should grab seats on one of the balconies overlooking the audience,” Tachi said.
Xiao had not thought of that.
Zhongli stroked his chin. “It is a special occasion. I do not see why we cannot splurge a little on one.”
“I will split it with you,” Tachi said, “my treat.”
He glanced back to Xiao again, his eyes flickering with an unspoken understanding.
Once again given special treatment for reasons that he wasn’t quite he understood but would not be questioning. He would be away from other people and higher above the music, and for those things, he was grateful.
The balcony was slathered in velvet and gold.
Tachi and Zhongli melted right into the scenery, Tachi sitting back in his chair with his arms idly behind his head. As soon as they had been guided to their high-backed chairs around a table made of elm, Zhongli had sat down and reached for the kettle of tea at its center. The server had asked if they wanted anything harder to drink but Tachi had responded with a polite “no.”
All Xiao had to do was choose a seat and not cause any trouble. But he already felt that his mere existence was an intrusion, so he picked the seat with a view of the exit and folded his hands in his lap.
He forced his arms down, the muscles grinding against bone. He bit the inside of his mouth, staring at the others with what he hoped was a convincing neutral expression.
“This opera house was first built…” Zhongli spoke as he placed down the first filled teacup, sliding it in Xiao’s direction.
Xiao pressed it against his palms, feeling its warmth through his skin.
Tachi nodded and leaned forward for his cup when it was his turn. Zhongli finished pouring his last and rose the cup toward the ceiling. The three men clinked cups together a few times, then Zhongli brought his cup toward his lips and took a sip.
Out of courtesy, Xiao followed suit.
It was hot and slightly sweet, leaving a warm trail down his throat.
Tachi leaned forward, nestling his chin in his hand. Xiao was positioned between him and Zhongli, moving his eyes back and forth to track the opening and closing of their mouths, though he’d already started to lose track of the conversation.
Something to do with the building, he thought.
Zhongli mentioned that country again — Snezhnaya — and Tachi grinned, showing teeth. Xiao tuned back in.
“I’ve had the misfortune of not getting to indulge in the arts much,” Tachi said. “Nahida and I go to shows together every now and again. But I did not have the idle time for such games when I was a harbinger.”
Zhongli frowned. “Such a shame. To imagine all the different performances you could have seen.”
“The harbingers were their own performance,” Tachi said. “A circus, if you will.”
He was trying to hold back a laugh. What had him so amused? Had that not been a time of loathing for him? Of despair? Tachi usually did not mention the harbingers without following soon afterward with a frown.
Tachi noticed Xiao’s staring and frowned, cocking his head to the side. “Hm?”
“Nothing,” Xiao said, averting his gaze.
He sighed. Just another thing he did not understand.
“Did you enjoy your time as a harbinger?” Zhongli asked.
Tachi did laugh at that, hunching over the table, a hand shooting out to curl around the tablecloth. Xiao flinched, not expecting the trilling laugh coming from his throat. Tachi composed himself quickly enough, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. Zhongli widened his eyes and shared a glance with Xiao.
“No, I did not ‘enjoy’ it,” Tachi said. “I didn’t join because I was looking for another family. I joined because I wanted power. I wanted to watch the world burn. And the Tsaritsa was my easiest means of doing that.”
“I have interacted with the Fatui to a limited extent myself,” Zhongli said. “I assume you are familiar with Childe?”
“Oh yes, I am familiar with him,” Tachi said. New light entered his eyes. “Or was, I should say. He wouldn’t know me as I am now.”
“You were close to him?” Xiao asked.
Tachi looked back over him, his eyes wide. His mouth worked for a second before saying, “No. Just a… coworker, of sorts.”
Xiao hummed. Zhongli brought his tea to his lips again.
A person from Tachi’s past made his eyes light up like that. And yet Tachi said they were nothing but a “coworker.” What was he like? Who could make Tachi react in such a visceral way?
Xiao’s fingers worked over each other underneath the table. I want to understand you better, Mochou said when they had first met and he was still an unnamed wanderer. Xiao understood that feeling now and it was indeed frustrating.
Tachi would be willing to answer any question Xiao had. Xiao knew that. And yet this did not seem like something he could understand even if Tachi spent hours explaining it for him.
The lights began to dim and Xiao lifted his head to examine the few remaining lanterns still lit along the walls.
“The show will be starting soon,” Zhongli said.
Tachi fell silent and drank his tea. Xiao leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
He tried to pretend that he was sleeping knowing that things were about to get a lot louder.
The first hums of an erhu echoed throughout the room. It was quieter than he had expected, more like just a gentle brush against the back of his scalp, pulling up goosebumps. Nothing compared to the bleeding eardrums he had been expecting.
He heard Tachi shift in his chair on his side and cracked open an eye to see.
As soon as the music started, Tachi’s expression shifted. He closed his gemstone eyes and smiled. It wasn’t with the same twinge of apprehension as before. This was genuine and gentle.
Xiao was not listening to the music. He was staring at Tachi, yearning so badly to understand how he could pivot from his earlier bitter tone to such a serene expression at the flick of some lights.
Zhongli smiled, too, although Xiao recognized the squint in his eyes as amusement.
Xiao cleared his throat, straightening up even more in his seat, pressing a hand against the cheeks that had gotten uncomfortably warm.
Time passed, both too quickly and slowly for Xiao’s liking. He preferred to have a little more time to enjoy Zhongli and Tachi’s company. He also could have done with less time listening to music that made his ears ring afterward, especially following the applause at the end of the performance.
Tachi and Zhongli mimed clapping their hands, perhaps out of respect for Xiao’s sensitivity, which only made him feel all the guiltier that he weighed them down with his presence.
“What did you think?” Zhongli asked.
“Not too bad,” Tachi said. “Rather typical, I would say. I am still impressed a human can make so much noise from such a small opening in their mouth. Many others would need to unhinge their jaw to make noise travel that far and be that loud.”
Zhongli laughed. “And what did you think, Xiao?”
“I don’t know,” Xiao said. “It was okay.”
“I’m glad to hear you found it tolerable,” Tachi said.
“Let us have one more toast, to Xiao and a long life of love and prosperity.”
Xiao had hardly touched his drink throughout the performance and found it still nearly full when he lifted it up to clink against the others. As soon as that was done, Tachi and Zhongli brought their drinks up to their lips. Xiao followed suit, though he took only the smallest sip before putting it back down.
“Should be getting to be about that time,” Tachi said. “The show started at noon and ran for an hour and a half. Our ship is slated to arrive at the harbor soon now.”
“I understand your haste,” Zhongli said, “but it is still important to slow down every now and again.”
Xiao nodded.
“As far as I see things, life is full of too much waiting as it is,” Tachi said. “At least we spent some of it doing something enjoyable. But that’s not all life is. We’ve got places to be.”
“I understand,” Zhongli said.
Zhongli’s shoulders dropped and Xiao frowned. When he started to think about it, how much time had he spent with Zhongli really? Very little, in retrospect. Xiao had always fallen on the old reasoning that if he had time to meet with Zhongli, he had time to slay one more demon.
He hadn’t stopped to consider that Zhongli might have missed his company. But at least they had spent this little bit of time together.
Zhongli sighed as he rose to his feet and put his drink back down. “I will not take up more of your time with my idle rambling. Let us be off.”
The three of them stepped back out into the sunlight and spoke for a short while outside the opera house. Xiao shifted on the balls of his feet, glancing from Tachi to Zhongli as they spoke.
What would the ship look like? What would it feel like? Would it make his karmic debt worse? Would he miss Liyue, and if so, how much?
Tachi said something, then Zhongli opened his arms up and they hugged. Xiao licked his lips, his throat suddenly dry, when they parted and Zhongli’s eyes fell on him.
“Xiao,” Zhongli said.
“Yes,” Xiao responded, straightening his posture to refrain from indulging in the reflex to kneel.
“I know things have not been easy for you for a long time,” Zhongli said. “But I am grateful every day that you and Tachi found each other.”
Even though the grief their bond had brought him had contributed to this scene in the first place? Why would Zhongli still think it worth it, after everything? If Xiao could do it over, would he?
Xiao looked back over at Tachi but he was avoiding Xiao’s eyes, his hat suddenly atop his head again to make for convenient cover of his face.
“I will do my best to set things right,” Xiao said.
“I know,” Zhongli said. He smiled. “You always are. With Tachi by your side, I have faith that things will get better. Have some trust in each other and all will reach a desirable conclusion.”
“Desirable conclusion” indeed. The term felt like it was shifting all the time now. Death could no longer be it. But then what was the conclusion Xiao wanted the most?
“Come here,” Zhongli said, opening his arms to Xiao.
Xiao obeyed and took the small step forward required to be engulfed in his embrace.
It was warm and smelled like jueyun chilis. He was solid and there, much more than he had been in Xiao’s dreams. Xiao briefly pressed his hands against Zhongli’s back before sliding away once more.
Zhongli stepped back first, giving Xiao his space, and said, “Have a safe journey.”
“Thank you,” Xiao said.
“If you ever need any contracts written up, you know who to go to.”
Tachi scoffed. “You think after everything Xiao’s been through, he’d want to make another contract with you?”
“You could make one with me together,” Zhongli said.
“No,” Tachi said, sounding aghast as Xiao’s eyebrows furrowed. Tachi made a gesture toward the port and turned partially to face it. “Let’s go. We’ve overstayed our welcome as it is.”
Xiao nodded and turned to follow Tachi toward the harbor, sparing one glance back in Zhongli’s direction.
Liyue Harbor was busy this afternoon. And Xiao, very predictably, had a headache.
They were sitting at a table and watching ships come and go from the harbor. Xiao could taste the sea salt on his tongue and the cold gust of wind in his hair. Things moved surprisingly quickly for ships that were so large and looked so slow in the water. Sometimes, Xiao would look up and see that a ship that had been there just a second ago was already on the horizon leagues away.
Xiao couldn’t tell them apart. All he knew was that there were numerous ships all sprinkled around the harbor, either with anchors down in the water for hours at a time or waiting for a turn to dock at the harbor.
He had been sitting across from Tachi, holding his head in his hand and wishing for overcast weather, when the doling ring of a large bell shook him upright. The remaining wisps of winter clogged his throat and he coughed.
There was no blood this time.
“Look,” Tachi said. He leaned forward and pointed. “Do you see that dragon masthead? That is our ship.”
It took a while for the ship to approach but men around the boardwalk were already shouting its arrival. From the voices, Xiao picked up that the ship was named the Alcor.
Tachi fell silent and stared. He hunched over in his seat, resting a hand underneath his chin.
The closer the ship got, the more screaming erupted. Many of the sailor’s voices were deep and masculine, a low thrum that ran underneath the planks and to Xiao’s ears. Water sloshed against the boardwalk as the ship came in. He heard the grunt and splash of an anchor hitting the water.
The first men aboard the Alcor threw down a gangway and strutted onto the boardwalk. The air filled with laughter and claps on people’s backs.
A woman strutted out, carrying with her an air of authority. Even from a distance, Xiao sensed that she was the captain. Just behind her, on her left shoulder, followed a white-haired man who lifted his bandaged hand to wave at someone in the distance.
Tachi cursed next to him.
“What is it?” Xiao asked.
“My past,” Tachi said. “This does not bode well for me.”
“What do you mean?” Xiao asked.
He was beginning to worry now. Tachi straightened up in his seat and followed the white-haired man with his eyes.
“That man is a descendant of Niwa,” Tachi said. “The sword. The streak of red in his hair. They could come from nowhere else.”
He pushed his chair back and rose on his feet. “This is the Kaedehara Kazuha Traveler told me I must meet. You don’t have to come with me to confront him — things might get dicey.”
“I am going,” Xiao said. “I am the one who needs to board that ship. It’s the least I could do.”
“Of course,” Tachi said. “Then let’s greet him, shall we?”
Notes:
AHH ZHONGLI HUGS!!! 😭
I hope you all are ready for next week! I'm gonna have to try and polish up that next chapter for *ahem* Niwa's descendant to make the best show possible 😏
Chapter 23: Scarred Casing
Summary:
Tachi and Xiao confront Kazuha ahead of boarding the Alcor.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
He looked just like Niwa.
His smile. The red streak in his hair and the way his bangs hung over his stupid eyes. Even the way he tied his hair back was exactly the same. He held himself just as Niwa had, the shoulders relaxed, his expression clear and readable. Whenever the kabukimono had looked into Niwa’s face, he had been able to identify all the thoughts inside, just as Tachi could now with Kazuha.
This sure was exciting, wasn’t it? Tachi had been anticipating the day when he would finally come face-to-face with those he had wronged. He had prepared for this moment and had, at times, been wishing for its arrival.
Xiao followed him as he approached Kazuha. Kazuha’s hand shot to his hip— his sword— before he had even fully turned around.
He turned to face them, his lips stretched into a thin line. His red eyes blazed with an unexpected fury.
“Hello there,” Tachi said. He smirked. “We have never met before and yet you already recognize me.”
“Who are you?” Kazuha asked. His eyes darted to Xiao.
“My name is Tachiyaku and I am the one who dissolved three of the five Raiden Gokaden hundreds of years ago.”
Kazuha’s eyes narrowed.
“And I am Adeptus Xiao. Tachi and I are looking to book passage on your ship.”
“That is up for Captain Beidou to decide,” Kazuha said. “But I have other business with you.”
He sounded so calm for someone who had the gleam of death in his eyes.
“I challenge you to a duel,” Kazuha said.
Tachi crossed his arms. “I agree on one condition.”
He saw Xiao’s head turn in his peripheral vision.
“Duels in Inazuma are sacred and typically the loser is sentenced to death by a slitting open of the stomach. But I am not interested in sentencing other people to that fate. Actually, I even refuse to,” Tachi said.
At least not this man, since it only seemed polite to keep him alive. Best to not get his captain upset over his death.
Kazuha smirked. “That is if I lose, which I assure you I will not.”
“Cocky, aren’t you?” Tachi asked.
“I am no mere sailor,” Kazuha said. “I am a samurai.”
Xiao cleared his throat. He shifted on his feet, keeping his eyes on Tachi. His skin looked pale under the full sun.
“Let’s take this elsewhere,” Tachi said. “Do what you need to then meet with me after.”
“No need,” Kazuha said. “I can go now.”
He stepped toward the captain, who didn’t spare a second glance at Tachi and Xiao. Or at least pretended not to.
breakers
No one was going to die.
That failed, however, to ease Xiao’s worries.
He followed Tachi and Kazuha up to a clearing overlooking the harbor. Tachi had chosen a cleared-out field of grass for their duel. Xiao picked out a rock and sat down, stretching one leg out while he kept the other pulled closely against his chest.
Kazuha and Tachi circled each other, familiarizing themselves with their surroundings. Xiao had never seen a duel like this before. It felt half performative, half testing the other’s strength.
Xiao remembered when he had first met Tachi again when he returned after two years away. He had been so tired he could barely stand on his feet then, too. And as soon as Xiao had attempted to lunge forward, Tachi had ripped the spear out of his hands. One moment Xiao had been standing, and the other he had collapsed on the ground.
So, he had seen some of Tachi’s fighting capabilities, but whatever Xiao and Tachi had engaged in didn’t feel like a true “fight.” It would be interesting to see how strong he was when paired against a samurai.
It had been too long since Tachi last had a chance to flex his power. It could even be argued that he had never gotten an opportunity like this since he acquired his vision.
Old habits returned; like a cat, Tachi planned to play with his food before striking to kill it. He already had a plan for how he wanted this fight to play out and it involved a lot of pestering. After all, he didn’t want to legitimately harm Kazuha. At least this way, Kazuha would tire out first.
That was the initial plan, anyway. But Kazuha skidded around the circle of their battleground, the vision on his shoulder swaying. Whatever attacks Tachi had planned, Kazuha was ready to dodge them.
Kazuha’s first swing was aimed at Tachi’s stomach. Tachi dodged out of the way, his eyes trained on Kazuha’s sword.
Tachi heard the pants of Kazuha’s breath but didn’t see them. He moved too quickly, always on the other side with another downswing of his blade prepared. Tachi met them with gales of anemo. He shot into the air once, tousling the grass, and flung scythes of anemo toward Kazuha. The surges of energy glowed, tinged black in their centers.
When one scythe hit Kazuha’s cheek, it left a red streak behind.
None of the other strikes hit their mark. Kazuha dodged out of the way and shot into the sky on his own temporary burst of anemo. He smacked Tachi with the sharp end of his blade, which made a dull thunk against the casing of his chest.
Tachi hit the ground, his shoes skidding against the soil. Kazuha’s eyes widened.
“The eremites have made me soft,” Tachi said with a grin.
“Enough talk,” Kazuha said.
He dealt another blow, and this time, gales of wind spewed from his blade and engulfed Tachi. It was not his — it was foreign, dangerous. Tinged with fire and something else that tasted like a home Tachi had long dismissed as not belonging to him.
Wind whipped at his hair and at his clothing. Each zephyr was like a knife slashing through the air and knocking against his frame. He shot up into the sky, seeking to avoid premature decapitation or at least a nasty haircut. He held a hand out toward Kazuha and focused. Anemo sucked toward Kazuha’s chest into a vortex until it had coalesced into the dense sphere of bright blue energy Tachi had been waiting for. Tachi squeezed his hand and reveled in the searing shiing of it exploding in Kazuha’s face, razing the ground around him.
Kazuha recovered in a matter of seconds. He broke through a cloud of dust, his bright red eyes popping into Tachi’s line of sight.
Tachi felt something cold and sharp piercing his body.
The sensation made him erupt in shock.
He knew without looking that the blade had plunged inside of him; Dottore had made enough markings similar to this one to make Tachi’s throat tingle with the familiarity of a scream.
He didn’t feel like screaming, though. He felt like taking revenge. He reached for the blade and wrenched it out; his chest oozed bright blue. That was new.
Kazuha’s face glowed with a ferocity that Tachi had not seen since his confrontation with Xiao. Kazuha pulled the blade back and drove it back in again.
It hurt. It was not supposed to hurt. Tachi gritted his teeth and gripped the blade again, attempting to wrench it out. When Kazuha refused to budge, Tachi seethed. His hands felt like they were on fire, tainted with blood that he didn’t recognize.
The world flashed with electro, a bolt of bright light crashing down with a boom. Lightning surged to Tachi’s fingertips like petals dancing across his palms and over his knuckles, leaving a warm tingle behind. This power… it was delicious. But he didn’t want it— he didn’t want anything belonging to her.
Kazuha had sensed it, too. After all, Tachi was staring at him as it traveled through him, peeling the composure from Kazuha’s face and revealing the raw, unfettered fear and fury underneath.
Neither had been anticipating the use of anything but anemo in their fight. The electro was an unwelcome new participant. Tachi had been frozen by it, hesitating just long enough with one foot stepped backward as a jolt of the electro rocketed through his fingertips and toward Kazuha.
Kazuha shoved Tachi to the ground and he hit it with a growl. Kazuha pressed his blade against Tachi’s throat as Kazuha panted. His grip on the hilt was sure even if the way he struggled to straddle Tachi and keep him pinned to the ground was callow.
Tachi’s lips spread into a wide grin. Niwa would be proud.
“What are you?” Kazuha asked, his voice scraping out in a raw whisper.
“A puppet,” Tachi said. “Took you long enough to piece together that I wasn’t human.”
Kazuha’s eyes darted over Tachi. He hadn't taken any substantial hits but it looked like the electro had shaken him up. His eyes darted over Tachi, searching for something, before he apparently reached a conclusion in whatever he was thinking and relented.
He sheathed his blade first then stood and backed away from Tachi.
Tachi’s hand went to his chest. The marking that had glowed anemo before was still “oozing,” if you could call it that, a bright light blue seeping through his fingertips. Perhaps once he had more time to compose himself it would calm down again.
“What? Gotten cold feet about finishing things for good?” Tachi asked. “Or is this your way of showing me mercy?”
“It had never been my intention to kill you; I have long ago accepted the fate of our clan. It was just to set things straight,” Kazuha said. “You may consider us even now.”
Tachi cocked his head to the side. “That is all it takes to get even with you? Interesting. You are a lot more forgiving than some other humans I know.”
“I am not ‘all humans,’” Kazuha said with a wry smirk.
Tachi’s eyes flitted over to Xiao. Xiao slid off the rock where he had been perched and took unsteady steps toward him.
“Are you alright?” Xiao asked. His eyes coasted down to Tachi’s kimono where it was tainted with blue.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Tachi said. “It doesn’t hurt. Much.”
“We should head back to the ship,” Kazuha said.
He had already turned his back on them, facing the harbor once more. Tachi wondered if he was hiding any injuries or just attempting to keep his distance. Could be a little of both.
He was bleeding. And it was blue.
More importantly, he had let it happen.
Why wasn’t Tachi frustrated like Xiao? Why was he so casual about the fact that he had been stabbed twice?
Tachi was completely unfazed by his poor performance and Kazuha didn’t seem offended at all that Tachi hadn’t made a genuine attempt. Kazuha had every right to be, though. When facing off against an opponent, it was respectful to bring your all to a fight, especially if it was to the death as they had said. To bring any less was mocking a warrior who had trained and fought to be taken seriously.
The medicine Xiao had taken earlier was already beginning to wear off. He missed the one that had silenced the voices the most; when the voices came back while on their walk back to the ship, he felt compelled to shove his hands over his ears to silence them.
Tachi is weak. Did you see how he fought? He is going to get killed if he cannot survive even one fight with a samurai.
He is afraid of his power. Was he afraid he would kill someone? You have made a mistake in befriending a killer who can’t even kill.
Such a coward. He has no resolve. You are not going to survive if you stay with him.
They were voices of fallen gods who had no right making space inside his head. But they succeeded in planting a seed of doubt inside Xiao that held his attention throughout their walk to Liyue Harbor.
Kazuha introduced them to his captain once they reached the ship again.
“This is Captain Beidou of the Crux Fleet,” he said.
She had a confident posture. When she spoke, people listened.
“My name is Tachiyaku and this is my friend Xiao,” Tachi said with a gesture. He kept one hand against his stomach, a poor attempt to conceal the marks there.
Kazuha, too, still had that splash of red against his cheek. Beidou arched an eyebrow at them but didn’t comment on it.
“Ah, Traveler has told me about you. So you’re the two that Traveler essentially begged me to let onto my ship,” Captain Beidou said. “I’ll have you know, we went out of our way to pick both of you up and I expect to be rewarded accordingly.”
“I have limited experience with dockwork but I am willing to help in any capacity necessary,” Tachi said. “So long as you leave the work to me. Manual labor from Xiao is off the table.”
Xiao’s spine tingled at the mention of his name. It didn’t feel right to be bartered over without his say-so, but Tachi was right. He would not be of much help working on the ship.
Beidou gave him a thorough once-over then nodded. “Alright. Kazuha, give them a tour of the ship, will you? Come grab me when you’re all finished and I’ll put you to work. And don’t forget to clean yourselves up before that,” she said, her eyes falling on Kazuha and Tachi in turn.
“Let’s go then,” Kazuha said with a smile.
All of the malice Xiao had seen earlier had been completely washed away. His steps became more languid, the tension in his shoulders gone. He approached the ship and walked up the gangway onto the dock. Xiao followed behind him with Tachi bringing up the rear.
Xiao’s foot landed on a plank and he felt the floor shift below him. He had anticipated this, but his body was still not prepared, striking out to grip anything he could find to balance himself.
He felt Tachi’s hand press against his back and shot straight up. Kazuha started talking about the ship, pointing at different things as he explained what they were, while Xiao tried to steady the beating of his heart.
They had not been on the ship for even twenty minutes and Xiao already felt like he was going to puke.
The ship was docked the whole time. The sound of water and people’s voices permeated the air and each footstep on the planks echoed in Xiao’s ears, especially once they made it down below.
It was cramped down there. In the sleeping quarters, there was one set of bedding lined against each wall. Hammocks hung from the ceiling and beds sat on the floor. If you lay in one of the hammocks and stretched your arm out, it would touch the bed lined against the other wall.
Xiao would suffocate if he had to spend another unnecessary second down there. It was like standing inside the belly of a beast, listening to each grumble of its gut as people walked on the floors above, sang their songs, and clinked bottles.
It was enough to drive him to paranoia, keeping his arms crossed tightly over his chest as his eyes tracked strangers he intended to avoid. Tachi led him to the other end of the narrow room, passing some men along the way, and threw his outer layers onto a mattress suspended just above the ground by an old wooden frame.
The white and blue kimonos hit them with a pomf. Xiao sat down on the edge of the mattress next to them as Tachi turned to face the wall. Xiao saw five round scars peppering the length of his back, which was covered by a thin black material. Xiao watched the muscles in Tachi’s bare shoulders move as he messed with the bandages Kazuha had given him.
“Why did you do that?” Xiao asked.
“I saw little point in prolonging the confrontation,” Tachi said. “This was just the easiest way.”
“You didn’t even try,” Xiao said.
“You could say my heart just wasn’t in it.”
He said this all without once turning to face Xiao. What sort of expression was he making?
Tachi’s head turned just slightly to the side but he still didn’t meet Xiao’s eyes. His arms worked as he reached around his middle with the bandages, stretching the first strip across his body. “Don’t look too deeply into it. It wasn’t that big a deal.”
“Would you have let him kill you?”
“It’s what I would have deserved, wouldn’t it?”
“That did not answer my question.”
Xiao stood and touched Tachi’s shoulder, pulling it toward him. Tachi turned to face him.
He looked so young. Xiao had almost forgotten his true age when staring into those bright eyes, which shifted into deep indigo under the dim lighting. The edges of his long lashes were dashed with red, half-covered by his stubby violet bangs.
Tachi dropped his eyes to the floor. “He just looked so much like Niwa,” he muttered.
“You would not let me die, so you can’t, either,” Xiao said.
“Of course. Wouldn’t be able to help much with your karmic debt if I were dead… Although, that’s not the only reason,” Tachi added, much to Xiao’s relief.
“I did not know you could get injured,” Xiao said, drawing his eyes back to Tachi’s stomach.
It had stopped bleeding. The bandages were useless now, having soaked up the rest of the blood. Or plasma. Whatever it was.
“I didn’t either. My frame is carved from a branch of Irminsul— the stuff’s pretty damn resistant.”
“Or that you harnessed electro.”
“It’s a new feature.”
Three sailors marched into the room, their boots thumping against the floor. One of them flung themself into a hammock, knocking against the side of the wall. Xiao dropped back into his seat and sucked in a breath. Most of the men’s voices on the ship were loud. The crew wasn’t even that large; it just felt that way with how they chatted incessantly.
“Do you know what it is?” Xiao asked. He gestured to the bandage Tachi pulled away from his middle.
Tachi sat down next to him and crumpled the bandages up into a ball. Xiao could not help but glance at his stomach to see where the mark had been.
Tachiyaku was a puppet; Xiao knew that. But he had never processed what that actually meant. But now, seeing where the outer layer of skin had been peeled back some, revealing the bright white of wood, Xiao understood a little better. The skin looked just like a human’s, and behaved like a human’s, too, but where muscle or bone might have been underneath there was just smooth wood.
“It’s anemo power,” Tachi said. “Something like this never would have happened to Scaramouche. He didn’t have these markings then,” he said, running a hand over his slim stomach.
Xiao had never heard Tachi’s former name before. He had not even asked. Names were sacred things; the fact that Tachi trusted Xiao enough to share his with him felt good.
“So it is only because he struck you where you glow,” Xiao said.
“Yes,” Tachi said. “That is what I believe, anyway.”
“That still doesn’t explain the electro.”
Tachi sighed slowly. Deeply. “That is a product of the past, too. The experiments I mentioned before were working toward releasing this power. The electro specifically is a product of my time as the Shouki no Kami.”
“But why is it happening now?” Xiao asked.
Tachi shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Tachi was pieces of his past patched together into one person. Little flashes of different parts of his life appeared to different degrees, especially mentally, Xiao noted. But he had not thought about the physical ramifications of his memory retrieval.
What had he been like before he erased himself? How much would Xiao have liked or hated him? Would they have fought, perhaps to the death? Xiao had been fortunate to have avoided close confrontations with the Fatui. Zhongli had some dealings with them, and it was true they had some influence in Liyue Harbor through the bank they had there, but that was about the extent of Xiao’s knowledge.
Wasn’t it the Fatui who had paid for Rex Lapis’s funeral? Even if they did it with ill intent, it was still a considerate act so far as Xiao was concerned.
Xiao lifted his eyes back to Tachi’s. Tachi met his gaze at the same time then wrenched his eyes away to look elsewhere.
“What are you thinking about?” Tachi asked.
“You,” Xiao said.
Tachi grinned. A laugh escaped his lips. “You’re curious about me?” He sounded amused.
“What did you used to look like?” Xiao asked.
“I had the same face. It’s largely the clothing that has changed and the absence of scars on my back from when I fell from Shouki no Kami,” Tachi said. “Unless you mean when I was first created.”
“You were different then?” Xiao asked.
“My hair was longer. I walked around barefoot. I was pretty empty in the head.”
He sounded embarrassed. Xiao couldn’t help but smile. “You are too hard on yourself. He sounds like Mochou.”
“Mmm,” Tachi hummed, casting his eyes up to the ceiling as he thought. “Kabukimono had the social graces of a newborn deer. Mochou at least knew what manners were.”
“You have so many names, it is going to start getting difficult to keep track of them all.”
“And you only know half of them,” Tachi said.
The ship started to move as Tachi spoke. Xiao’s shoulders stiffened and Tachi shook his head. Xiao should have been used to moving through space at fast velocities, and yet, this speed made him lightheaded.
“It’s started,” Tachi said. “We won’t be getting off this ship for another few days. Might as well make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”
Xiao watched Tachi rise to his feet and thought to join him. But where would he even go? Did he even want to know what the ocean was like while on a moving ship?
“Come with me,” Tachi said. “You’ve never been on a ship before, right? It might help to look at the horizon. Less likely to get seasick.”
“I will not get seasick,” Xiao said. That was something that happened to mortals.
Tachi scoffed and crossed his arms. “Sure, have it your way. Just means I’ll have to find more medicine to shove down your throat later. I’m going to ask the captain what tedious tasks she has for me. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding me if you need me.”
Xiao watched him walk down the hallway and back up the stairs. He turned toward the bed and sucked in a breath. Tachi had left his clothing here.
The only thing he could think to do was rest. He had been feeling particularly exhausted lately, which was probably his body striving to keep itself alive. It was not like he had anything else to do anyway.
He picked up the clothing Tachi had left folded on the edge of the bed and placed them on top of his pillow. Then he dropped his head right on top and closed his eyes with his back flat on the mattress. He sucked in another shaky breath as his stomach lurched.
Notes:
Thank you for reading as always!!
Tachi is a glowstick confirmed
Chapter 24: Dolls and Rice Dishes
Summary:
Xiao and Tachi spend their first day on the Alcor.
Notes:
Light content warning at the end for drowning, thoughts of death, and the like.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Part III: Promises Forged on an old Scorched Path
“You and Kazuha will be moving our new goods to their places down below-deck,” Beidou said.
She stood near the masthead, keeping an eye on the wheel while a sailor navigated them out of the harbor.
“Make sure to be extra careful with the booze!” she said.
She laughed at that but Tachi didn’t even bother to spare a smile in her direction. He turned toward Kazuha, who was on the lower deck poking at some ropes on a barrel.
“Hey,” Tachi called. Kazuha turned. “You hear that? We’ve got work to do.”
Kazuha nodded, his lips pulled into a loose smile. “Come on down and I’ll show you where we’re working.”
Tachi complied, marching down the stairs and toward where Kazuha stood. Kazuha gestured and led him to the crates of cargo piled in the middle of the dock.
“We have a storeroom down below where all of the perishables go,” Kazuha said. “We don’t have anything like a cellar in the traditional sense, although there is indeed a special place where the liquor is stored.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Tachi asked. “Let’s go.”
He approached one of the crates and curled his arms around it. His gloved hands gripped the crate and he stood holding it in his arms, the wood biting into his skin. Bottles inside jingled.
Kazuha looked impressed. “You can lift quite a bit, can’t you?” he asked.
“Is that not obvious?” Tachi asked.
He prepared to once again insist on getting directions when Kazuha took a step forward and led him toward the stairs and into the ship.
“This way,” he said.
It was late afternoon now and Tachi had rapidly fallen into this new routine. Kazuha stayed quiet at his side for the first few trips back and forth, but as was a human’s habit, he didn’t stay quiet long.
“Tachiyaku. That’s an interesting name,” he said.
“Mmh,” Tachi hummed.
They had just deposited another crate of alcohol downstairs and were going up for the last one. After this, they would get started on storing the perishables.
“Traveler tells me you have done your fair share of wandering, too,” Kazuha said. “Where have you been?”
“Does it really matter? All places are the same to me,” Tachi said. “All I’m interested in is getting to Inazuma so I can help Xiao. Then, once that’s finished, I’ll finally be able to leave Inazuma behind for good.”
“You don’t intend to stay around?” Kazuha asked. “Inazuma is your homeland, is it not?”
“I don’t have a ‘homeland,’” Tachi said. He marched up the stairs to the deck. “Do you have any other stupid questions?”
“Something is tugging at your soul; I can hear it,” Kazuha said. “Could it be that friend of yours?”
Tachi stopped in front of the last crate and set his hands on his hips.
“We’re not talking about Xiao right now. And it’s none of your business besides. All I want is to arrive in Inazuma, then you will never hear from me again.”
“You would have your past be forgotten so quickly when you still have knowledge to share.”
“Not entirely true. I still have some squaring away to do with the other blacksmithing clans, but everything comes secondary to Xiao’s health.”
“‘Squaring away,’ you say?” Kazuha asked.
“You are not the only one connected to the blacksmithing clans I wronged,” Tachi said. “And there are arts I’m familiar with that have been lost to time otherwise.”
“I would be interested in being given your instruction,” Kazuha said.
Tachi laughed. “I’ll make you regret those words.”
“Let me be the one to decide that.”
Tachi tilted his head back and looked down his nose at Kazuha. Kazuha squinted, his lips set in a strong line, which made Tachi grin. “Sounds like you’re gonna provide me some valuable entertainment. Alright, I will grace you with my knowledge— when the time comes. I’m busy right now.”
On cue, Tachi heard the thump of footsteps on planks and turned to watch Xiao lurch past. He had emerged from below-deck and scrambled to the nearby railing in a matter of seconds, his arms outstretched to grasp for it with open palms.
He was seasick. The retching sound coming from that direction was evidence enough. Tachi dropped his crossed arms and strutted toward him. Xiao stood folded over the railing now, his head bent down toward the water. Tachi pressed his hand between Xiao’s shoulder blades. Xiao shot up, his body tensing. If Tachi had muscles, they would have tensed, too.
“It’s just me,” Tachi said. “Everything’s fine. Do what you need to do.”
There was not much left for Xiao to lose. His shoulders shook and he made another heaving sound or two, then fell silent. He reached up to wipe at his mouth and sighed.
“Hm?” Tachi hummed. He retracted his hand and took another step to join Xiao at his side.
“I don’t feel well,” Xiao said.
“What do you need?” Tachi asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Perhaps some water?” Kazuha approached and stretched his arms behind his back. “Eat some starches, something light and bland so as to not upset your stomach.”
“That can be arranged,” Tachi said. “Go back downstairs and I’ll be there soon with something for you to eat.”
Xiao stared at him. And then he bowed his head and turned to go back the way he had come.
Tachi stared at the slump in his shoulders as he walked. It felt just as disgusting as hearing him vomit.
“The sun will be setting soon,” Kazuha said. “Very good timing to begin cooking. We will want all this cargo downstairs for that, though.”
He gestured again to the small pile of crates on board. Tachi sucked in a deep breath and grimaced.
“...Right.”
It could have been minutes or hours before Xiao heard from Tachi again. As soon as he sat down again, his stomach empty, he felt a confused mixture of better and worse. There was nothing to expunge anymore, but his stomach also felt like it was going to implode.
Xiao lay back down on the thin mattress and pulled Tachi’s kimono close. Something slipped out of one of the sleeves and fell onto the mattress. Xiao pulled back enough to examine it, finding the Mochou doll he’d sorely missed.
The voices whispered to him about what a shameful show he had put on and how pathetic it was that he was grasping so desperately onto a doll. But it was soft and warm in a world that was anything but that. He rested that way for whatever amount of time it was, keeping Tachi’s things close.
Whenever the ship lurched over a large wave, he squeezed one of the doll’s small, round arms and imagined Wangshu Inn. It was the only thing he could do to keep from being driven to insanity.
He barely paid attention when Tachi returned to tell him that dinner was ready. Xiao didn’t remember how Tachi had reacted to seeing him in his state, if Tachi reacted at all.
It was as if one second, he was flat on his back in bed, trying to block out the sounds of the bed frame above his head creaking as water dripped onto his forehead, and the next, he was at a dinner table around humans with chopsticks in his hand.
They were his chopsticks, Tachi had said just seconds prior when he put them down in front of Xiao along with a bowl of rice. People all around them spoke as Tachi rolled out dishes and placed them on the long wooden table where they were all seated. Kazuha was at Xiao’s left shoulder while the other was the soon-to-be-occupied seat belonging to Tachi. The ship captain sat just next to that empty chair, sending a curious glance in Xiao’s direction.
Everyone else scarfed down their food as Xiao brought the first few steamed grains of rice to his mouth. He chewed and swallowed them fine. What a relief that his body was still capable of consuming that much without getting upset.
“Doesn’t it taste delicious?” Kazuha asked.
Xiao shrugged. “It does not taste like anything to me.”
“Come now,” Beidou said. “It’s the best! Right up there with Kazuha’s cooking!”
“Xiao’s dishes are never served with any seasonings or spices,” Tachi said. “He has a sensitive digestive system.”
Tachi dragged his chair back, finally done with serving the food, and sat down next to Xiao. Xiao’s heart skipped a beat.
“Oh, I see,” Kazuha said.
Xiao sighed and dropped his eyes onto his bowl of rice. He had been wondering whether it was his taste buds or that the dish had been made just for him.
Human food didn’t interest him anyway, so why did he feel a twinge of yearning to know what Tachi’s food normally tasted like? Tachi clearly meant this as a kind gesture but what if Xiao didn’t want special treatment? He only had one life; he ought to spend it enjoying things, as Zhongli had said. Especially now that that life was running on a time limit.
“Hey Tachi, you got any more?” One sailor asked, lifting an empty bowl up toward the ceiling.
Tachi leaned back and crossed his arms. “Don’t you have rations to maintain? You’ll end up starving your crew if you blow it all in one night.”
“Oh, lighten up!” Beidou said. She grinned and reached to slap him on his back. “We’ll be in Inazuma before we know it! One more night at the most.”
One more night. Xiao could stomach that.
“You say that,” Tachi grumbled.
Beidou and a few other sailors laughed.
“It is true that the men eat and drink to excess at times,” Kazuha said. “But have no worries. We are far from running out of food and Captain Beidou is well-equipped to deal with any weather that might come our way.”
“Even the most skilled captain of all the seas can only do so much against a tsunami,” Tachi said.
The other sailors fell quiet, their eyes slimming into analytical slits.
Beidou laughed. “It’s true! After all, we’re only human! Isn’t that right, Tachi?”
Tachi grinned. “Yes, that’s right, all-knowledgeable captain. As for your sailors… maybe if you beg hard enough, I’ll consider making you seconds.”
“Please, Mister Tachiyaku! Make more!” the sailor from before shouted.
Xiao turned toward Tachiyaku and saw him grinning. He looked so smug, so proud of himself. It couldn’t help but make Xiao happy, too.
Tachi caught Xiao smiling and grinned even wider.
“Alright, I’ll entertain your begging this time,” Tachi said and rose from his seat once more.
Later in the evening, the sailors started singing and marching around the ship. It had not taken anyone very long to finish eating as they all either had high metabolisms or things they wanted to do. Xiao had found himself basically at the dining table alone with Tachi near the end of it, struggling to force the last of his food down before attempting to sleep for the night.
Once Xiao finished, Tachi and Xiao slipped into the sleeping quarters where a few people were already passed out in hammocks and beds. In the corner they had visited before, Tachi’s clothing had been left in a heap in the middle of the bed.
“Do you need anything?” Tachi asked.
Xiao shook his head. He sat down on the edge of the bed and dropped his shoulders.
Tachi picked up his clothing and folded them over his forearm. He stared at Xiao for a second. Xiao had his own questions, of course.
All night, questions independent of the voices had been nagging at whatever small sliver of headspace he had left to himself. Xiao had stayed silent all throughout dinner, more focused on sitting upright as Tachi swarmed his mind. He had already asked Tachi a little about himself, but each new discovery only led to more curiosity.
How could Tachi grin like that? What did his food taste like? Was he lying when he agreed with Beidou about being “only human” or did he believe it?
Tachi finished folding his clothing and sat down next to Xiao.
Xiao, unable to hold back any longer, opened his mouth.
“Do you enjoy cooking?” he asked.
“I don’t hate it,” Tachi said. “Everyone I know likes sweets the most, so that’s often what I end up making, even if they are not my favorite to eat.”
“You like bitter things,” Xiao said.
Tachi smiled. “Yes, that’s right.”
“But the act of cooking is fun for you?”
Shoes thumped on the floors above. Tachi played with the red knot he had pinned to his outer layer of clothing. When Xiao looked at it, he remembered the feeling of sunlight on his cheeks.
“Yes, it’s… fun,” Tachi said. “The thing I enjoy about it most is the act of creation. Taking various ingredients that are unimpressive on their own and making something greater out of them. I used to think I was only capable of destroying. Cooking is the antithesis of that — it’s new. It’s life. And that is why I enjoy it.”
Xiao smiled. “That’s sweet.”
“Just like those dishes Nahida always asks for,” Tachi said.
Xiao laughed lightly. “Yet you still make them for her.”
“Of course. Do I have much of a choice?”
“What do you mean?” Xiao asked.
“I love her,” Tachi said. “You do things you wouldn’t otherwise for those you care about.”
Xiao swallowed. That couldn’t possibly be why they were here now, was it? Tachi was doing this out of obligation for righting the wrongs he had committed.
“We should wrap up for the night. You need the rest,” Tachi said.
“Alright,” Xiao said.
He wished that Tachi would stay even though his eyes were already coasting to the bunk above his head. The company would be good. It felt safe. And Xiao had spent enough of his night alone already.
But Xiao hated to inconvenience people more than necessary and he had already done a good deal of that throughout the day. So, he said nothing as Tachi rose to his feet and took himself and his clothing up to the top bunk of the bed.
Xiao heard the frame of the bed creak as the mattress settled with his weight.
“Good night,” Tachi whispered.
“Night,” Xiao said.
Tachi fell quiet but the room remained filled with noise. The sound of voices, both present and incorporeal. Water sloshing against the side of the hull. His fingers sifting through his hair and clutching the side of his head, pressing his palms against his ears.
That helped a little. His skin was still clammy and stuck to the mattress, goosebumps sprouting all down his arms. He closed his eyes and shuttered. The black that greeted him somehow felt deeper, colder. As if he was once again sinking into it when he thought he’d managed to escape it so long ago.
How strong was the hull of the ship, really? Back in Wangshu Inn, whole walkways had fallen into disrepair after a thunderstorm one night, destroying the planks and making passages unusable. Was it possible for something similar to happen to the ship?
If something punctured the side of the ship, water would start coming in immediately. Would there be any way for them to escape? Or, because it was night, would nobody even notice until the bottom level was already full of water and there was no way to survive?
Xiao hadn’t even thought about it much, but they had windows down here. Small portholes with latches that could open. What if one got loose? There was one right next to his head, he realized. His eyes popped open and he turned to stare at it.
In the bunkroom, it never got completely dark. There were still men awake, burning lanterns at the other end of the room that made the edges of the porthole sparkle gold. Through the glass, though, it was pitch black. The sight made Xiao’s stomach sink. If the porthole wasn’t faulty, then certainly a lantern would tip over at some point and they’d die in a fire instead.
Xiao turned his head away and clutched the thin sheets with his chewed-up fingernails. He wanted to go home. Die there fighting demons in his homeland. Not sink to the bottom of the ocean until his throat was clogged with water and blood.
His breaths came out sharp and heavy. He felt like his heart was going to pop. Everything was too bright and sharp and terrifying.
The bed above his head creaked and he flinched, afraid it was about to collapse on top of him and crush him to death. He heard weight hit the floor. Probably someone jumping around, testing Xiao’s theory about the floorboards.
Xiao turned his head to find Tachi standing over him. Even he cut an intimidating figure backlit by the lantern light down the hallway. Xiao heard the deep chortle of a sailor and sucked in a slower breath.
Thank the archons Tachi was here. Suddenly, the room felt much brighter.
Tachi knelt down in front of him until his chin was almost resting on the mattress. Without saying anything, he extended an open palm to Xiao.
Xiao moved his arm the incremental distance necessary to meet his touch. Tachi’s fingers were long and warm. Xiao clutched all of them in his palm and kept eye contact, staring into Tachi’s blue pupils.
Tachi did not blink, returning a slow, steady gaze that reassured Xiao that no matter what happened, he would be there. Even if this whole ship sank, Tachi would be there, and Xiao would not be alone.
Do not cry. Stay composed. Fear is not becoming of a yaksha.
He just had to imagine the bright blues of Tachi’s eyes when the sun hit them just right. If he thought of that, he could almost convince himself the room wasn’t as dark, wet, and cold as he thought.
Xiao eventually fell asleep that way, illuminated the slightest bit by the blue glowing from Tachi’s hand still grasped in his.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading! (And allll the people I asked for help with the artwork! Yall are amazing!!!) Sorry if it's a little later into Sunday than usual— I was finishing up the art to accompany our fresh break into Part 3!!! I'm VERY excited 😄
Chapter 25: Of Kismet and Crow's Nests
Summary:
Xiao gets to know Kazuha a little better. A storm brews on the horizon.
Notes:
Content warning for unreality and drowning (NOT lethally) starting at around "His blood ran cold" and ending at the end of the chapter.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The sky erupted in thunder and lightning that shook the earth, the sakura trees trembling in the darkening afternoon sky. The clouds were so thick they choked out the sun, making it look more like night outside.
The kabukimono had been outside gathering lavender melons and other provisions to bring back to the boy — his family — in their old hut. He stood under a tree, reaching up to pluck a lavender melon from a low branch when a bolt of lightning struck earth nearby, setting a small patch of grass on fire. The heavy rain put it out.
His lashes dripped with water, creating a fog that he had to wipe away in order to see. He had been out long enough. The boy would be worrying about him, just as he always did when the weather stopped being fair and the kabukimono had been out for more than an hour or two.
He had not strayed very far from the hut this time anyway. He carried the melons back in his arms, approaching the entrance where the door leaned against it, the hinges gone. The kabukimono slid through the slab of wood then covered the doorway with it.
The boy sat curled up on the straw mat they had claimed as their bed. He had drawn his knobbly knees up to his chest, tugging the only blanket they owned around his shaking shoulders.
“I brought some food,” the kabukimono said. He walked over and sat down to offer the food up. “It was a little difficult to find anything in all the rain.”
“I’ll eat it in a second,” the boy said.
He wouldn’t look at the puppet, keeping his head buried against his knees. Kabuki found this strange, as it was seldom that his friend was in a bad mood. Maybe he was sad?
“What’s wrong?” the kabukimono asked.
“I’m scared,” the boy whispered.
“Of what?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
“The lightning and thunder is scary! I just wish it was over with already.”
“Why?”
“The thunder is terrifying on its own but it would only take one stray lightning strike to kill me. Or it could hit a tree that could fall right through the roof,” the boy said. “Humans don’t like the rain, especially when it makes you so cold and wet. I could get a fever or a cold on top of everything else.”
“What can I do to help?”
It seemed outlandish that he would be able to be of much use at all. He had no control over the weather. He could barely keep the rain from flooding into their shack, either. But his friend was intelligent. If there was something Kabuki could do, the boy would tell him.
The boy lifted his head and peered at the kabukimono. Kabuki couldn’t see his lips moving, still obscured by his knees, though he stared at the boy’s shaking hands as they toyed with the fringes of his shorts, which had ridden up on his calves.
“Could you hold me? Just for a little while. I’m so cold.”
“I’m not sure I’m much warmer, but okay,” the kabukimono said.
He crawled closer and pulled the boy into his arms. Kabuki’s eyes widened. Had he always been this small? His hands were tiny compared to his. The boy sat in his lap, his back pressed against the kabukimono’s stomach.
Kabuki reached up to the veil still hanging from his head and pulled it around them. Though it was wet, it would dry in time. They had picked the one section of their home that could escape the rain, after all.
The boy turned onto his side and hugged Kabuki’s arm. He curled into Kabuki as much as he could, hiding his face in the sleeves of the kabukimono’s kimono.
“You’re so warm,” the boy whispered.
“You must be imagining things,” he responded. “I’m a puppet; I don’t have body heat.”
“Something is keeping you lit with life,” the boy whispered. “Maybe it’s love.”
A roar of thunder sounded, followed by the flash of lightning, but the boy didn’t flinch. He held steadfast onto Kabuki, pressing a small kiss to his arm.
The kabukimono didn’t know what to say. He just stared, curling his arms ever-tighter around him, as they waited out the night’s storm.
The skies were bright and clear today.
Xiao stood out on the deck of the ship, training his eyes to stare at the only cloud in the distance. There was no wind out yet the cloud still moved as the ship tread water, a testament to its speed.
He had spent very little time outside since boarding yesterday. The illness had made it difficult to do much of anything, but he was desperate for relief and the fresh air provided a little.
There wasn’t an obvious place for him to stand. Some sailors had already picked out places to chat or work. It was just after breakfast, so people were coming above-board to begin their daily tasks. Including Kazuha and Tachi, who were still downstairs cleaning up the leftover breakfast.
Xiao had eaten everything Tachi had made him. It had been the same as everyone else’s serving — a bowl of rice topped with cooked slivers of fish seasoned in spices Xiao didn’t recognize.
The breakfast alone had made him feel a little better, even if his head still felt heavy and his temples pulsed under the sun.
Spring was coming soon.
He hoped to be alive to see it.
Xiao took unsteady steps across the ship, which lurched over the waves, and chose a spot for himself near the back of the ship. His eyes coasted up toward the nets that led up to masts and their respective crow’s nests. There were two masts and three nests. The mast nearest him was the shortest, with one crow nest topping it. The other mast — the main one — was thicker and had a larger, already occupied, crow’s nest that served as the uppermost point on the ship, along with a smaller nest down the middle of the mast.
Xiao was not sure he had the hand-eye coordination for climbing up to even the shortest nest right now. He could hold chopsticks, but would his hands and legs be able to handle the net? Would the swaying of the ship disturb him?
“You’re looking up at the crow’s nests.”
Xiao turned to find that Tachi had emerged from below deck to join him at his shoulder. Xiao’s eyes subconsciously coasted down to the hands at Tachi’s sides; Tachi had been so gentle last night. It was proving difficult this morning to think of anything other than the slim, warm length of those fingers.
Tachi cleared his throat and Xiao pulled his eyes back up to his.
“Yes,” Xiao said.
“One is empty,” Tachi said. “I could take you up there if you wanted.”
That would be ideal. He would not have to worry about tainting anyone with his karmic debt if he did that. He would be above the sounds that had been assaulting his ears since yesterday, and he had recovered enough from the sea sickness yesterday to have reason to believe that he would be okay up there.
“Please?” Xiao asked.
Tachi opened up his arms and took a step forward. Xiao said nothing as Tachi bent down to get a good angle then hefted Xiao into his arms in one fluid motion.
It felt good to be in his arms. One hand supported his back while the other rested just below his knees. It was as noble a position as it could get, but still Xiao shut his eyes and covered his ears in preparation for what was to come next.
Xiao heard the whoosh of anemo before they shot up into the sky. His stomach lurched and he pressed a hand against his mouth to compose himself.
Before Xiao even knew what had happened, Tachi’s arms disappeared, Xiao’s feet hit solid ground, and he stumbled forward with his eyes shooting open. He gripped the mast in the center of the crow’s nest, his fingers trembling.
The nest was smaller than anticipated. The walls of it rose up to his midsection and the surface area was so small that he would struggle even to sit down.
“This good?” Tachi asked.
Xiao turned, keeping his back pressed against the length of the mast. Tachi floated from outside the crow’s nest, his chest glowing with anemo. His hair, unimpeded by his hat, floated a little on the wind. Behind him stretched the bright blue skies Xiao had dreamed of yesterday.
“Yes, this is good,” Xiao said.
“If you need anything, just shout for me,” Tachi said.
He didn’t clarify further but there was the hint of an amused smirk at the edge of his lips that suggested to Xiao he knew exactly the irony of that statement.
“Thank you,” Xiao said.
“There is no need to thank me,” Tachi said. “I would have always done this for you.”
He glanced away a moment, reaching back to play with the extra length of hair running down his neck. “Anyway. Those humans have more work for me to do, so I will be back later.”
“Alright,” Xiao said.
Tachi’s eyes flickered over him one more time before leaving. Tachi descended, disappearing below the nest until Xiao was up there alone.
The lookout point was exactly what Xiao had needed. It felt familiar. It felt right.
He was used to the high peaks of Liyue and often doing this same thing — finding the highest tree or mountain to settle down with his legs bent to meditate.
He found it a little difficult to carry out here, as there wasn’t enough room to fold his legs. He sat down with them cramped up against his chest and his eyes closed. The sloshing of the sea became distant in his ears, though the swaying of the ship had gotten worse.
Xiao could contend with that. The exchange of being able to see all of the activity happening below him without having to be in any of it was reward enough. After all, the humans were so noisy. It was better to watch them from afar.
He spent some time just sitting and staring up at the sky. Cloud watching was not such a bad pastime; it helped him meditate and keep his eyes focused on something.
At one point, Xiao mustered up enough constitution to stand and look over the edge of the nest. He rose on shaky legs and grabbed for the railing around the crow’s nest to steady himself.
He spotted Tachi immediately. He was standing with some men near the head of the ship, his arms crossed. He was wearing his hat so Xiao could not see his face, only the intricate markings of the lotus flower on top.
Xiao remembered what Tachi had said about Tatarasuna. Xiao imagined how Tachi must be feeling now, relegated once more to listening and learning as he had been when he had lived with his first family who taught him how to forge weapons. Tachi was not so callous or close-minded that he refused to learn new things. He seemed to enjoy history and the discovery of new things, which was part of why Xiao had agreed to stay with him.
Tachi was not unlike some adepti Xiao knew. He always said precisely what he was thinking. He stood steadfast beside his ideals and his promises. Yet he was still pugnacious at times, snapping at those who dared to defy him.
But Tachi never snapped at Xiao.
That made him smile. Pride and smugness were emotions Xiao did not have a purpose for and seldom felt, and yet, he could not help but feel some nugget of those emotions pricking at his skin. More than anything, he just felt grateful.
Grateful that Mochou had come back, at whatever capacity this was, and that, deep down, Tachiyaku still had a soft core that was capable of kindness.
The human emotions that Xiao had once discarded as being incapable of feeling were now obviously impacting him to some degree. Some of them always had, he knew, but never like this. Never to such extremes. Fear especially was the one he had long ago cast aside. But he now felt shame upon remembering the incidents of last night. This was not how things were supposed to go.
Xiao stood a while longer ruminating over these thoughts, adjusting to the sway of the ship until his body had become more accustomed to it. It wasn't long after that that he heard a voice in his ear.
"The view is beautiful from up here."
Xiao turned. It was Kazuha, the person whom Tachi had last mentioned with such a profound sense of longing in his tone.
Kazuha sidled up next to him and rested his forearms on the railing of the crow’s nest. He looked over at Xiao as a gust tousled his white hair.
“Winter’s touch recedes,
“Her fingers leaving glassy marks
“Upon water’s surface.”
Xiao’s lips slimmed into a thin line. Was that meant to be an observation about the ocean?
“No?” Kazuha asked, frowning. “What about: The quiet whisper of desire
“Punctures ear drums
“As he struts across the ship,
“Silent in his joy
“Over a simple moment.”
He was talking about Tachi. He must have been, right? But Xiao had never been all that good at untangling hidden meaning from poetry.
Kazuha gave Xiao a long look, perhaps expecting Xiao to have more to say about his poetic observations, but he didn’t. This sort of thing aligned more with Tachi’s interests, not his.
“Mmm, I see that you don’t have the same appreciation for poetry as your friend does,” Kazuha said.
“He likes poetry?” Xiao asked.
“I noticed him writing in a journal this morning. Unable to help myself, I took a peek. As a poet myself, I recognized the formatting of the stanzas immediately.”
“I did not know that,” Xiao said.
“I think you might be his favorite muse,” Kazuha said.
Xiao’s cheeks flared at that. He swallowed, turning his eyes to stare at the sky instead. Dark clouds had started to roll in as the sun inched closer to the horizon, dousing the sky in the beginnings of a pink and red sunset.
“He does not have musings,” Xiao said. “That’s a human behavior and he himself has insisted that he’s not human.”
“And you believe him?” Kazuha asked.
“He would not lie to me.”
Kazuha hummed. “He’s still learning it himself, then.”
Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Tachi certainly would never be human in the psychical sense with his body carved from wood. But what was a human? If it looked and acted human, was it not human, regardless of whatever inner fire kept it going?
If they were making determinations in this way, then would Xiao be considered human, too?
But an adeptus yaksha is an illuminated beast. One cannot be both an illuminated beast and a human, just as one cannot be a ghost and a human. Or an oni and a human. At least, he didn’t think so.
“Are you thinking about him?” Kazuha whispered.
Xiao snapped his head back over to Kazuha, which gave him whiplash.
He reached up, massaging his temples, and frowned. “No, I— I…”
Kazuha laughed lightly, bringing up his bandaged hand to cover his smile. “It’s okay, I won’t tell. It’s just between you, me, and the wind.”
“I do not care if he knows or not,” Xiao said. “I was just thinking how much he behaves like a human when I am everything but that. I am doomed to live in my past while he continues striving forward. Maybe… maybe he is human. But then, what does his future hold for him? How could I ever find a place in a future that would be much more prosperous without me?”
“But his future would not be like this without you. He would not be on this ship right now if it were not for you. Have you ever heard of the red string of fate?”
Xiao nodded. But he had never thought him worthy of something like that. Didn’t even think it was possible.
He looked at Kazuha once more. Kazuha had turned his eyes toward the water, too. A breeze frayed his hair and he reached up to pull it back.
There was very little Xiao could ask Kazuha. Kazuha was essentially a stranger and Xiao only let him stay up here because of the vision dangling from his shoulder.
He understood poetic things, right? Maybe he could help Xiao with the one that had been bothering him.
“Have you ever heard of ‘kismet’?” Xiao asked.
Kazuha shook his head.
“Tachi said it means ‘fate’ or ‘destiny.’ He said we are connected by it. But what does that actually mean?”
“It means that no matter what course your life takes, there is always that one person whose path weaves into yours. The paths might diverge but they will always come back together. Days, months, years… they do not matter. As soon as those paths merge again, it feels as though no time has passed at all.”
Xiao’s throat burned. He brought a hand up to his mouth and coughed. His nose stung.
“There once was a man whom I loved so much I would be willing to do anything for,” Kazuha said. “We used to spend summers training together and winters huddled around warm fires. We celebrated birthdays, scars, the sun after a long storm… no little incident was not worth a song or line of prose.
“I never thought I would have to do the unthinkable— witness his death. Afterward, I surrendered myself to a pit of grief and regret that I had not done more despite knowing this was always how things would turn out.
“Bonds like these come once in a lifetime. They are things to be cherished and recorded down in little pocket notebooks,” Kazuha said with another laugh. “Do not cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.”
“I do not understand what that has to do with my question,” Xiao said.
Kazuha’s smile fell. His eyes turned sad. “That is kismet. I thought the narrative might be illuminating for you and that you might appreciate hearing it. Especially given your condition as of late.”
Xiao narrowed his eyes. “How did you know about that?”
”A Samurai pretends, even when he is hungry, by holding a toothpick between his teeth.”
When Xiao didn’t respond, Kazuha added, “You and Tachi have something special. Savor it while you can, and do not hold back. Loving fiercely is part of what makes love so great.”
He was trying. Archons, he was trying to do everything. But so much felt like it wasn’t working.
Kazuha cleared his throat. “We should get down from here. Dinner is soon and a storm is set to roll in.”
He was right; just in the span of their conversation, Xiao had noticed dark gray clouds on the horizon blazing an even brighter red as the sun set down. He glanced at the net that led down to the deck. It was not far; he had jumped much greater distances before.
Kazuha started the climb down first, his hair blazing pink in the setting sun. Another gust blew at his back and he swayed on the net.
Xiao approached the net and swung his leg over the edge of the crow’s nest to get down.
As he expected, it swayed under his weight, too. He would usually have no trouble righting himself after something like this; all it would take is a shift of his weight to keep himself balanced. But something inside him — his inner ear, he supposed — made it harder than usual.
His foot struck the net and slipped into one of the gaps between the webbing. He swallowed and focused on his grips. So long as he continued with this same process of keeping his foot tethered to the net, then he would be fine.
Xiao glanced down. His head spun, the deck spiraling farther then closer once more. Like an image of the ship being held close to his face before getting pulled away once more.
He felt the net under his fingertips. That was all that mattered. If his vision was faulty, then he would continue by touch.
This worked for all of five seconds.
As soon as Xiao closed his eyes with the intention of keeping them closed, he unhooked one of his legs to seek the next rung when a wet gust knocked into his side, throwing him off-balance. His eyes shot open again but it was too late. He’d already lost any balance retained from his legs. They dangled uselessly beneath him as he grappled with the netting tangling his fingers, gritting his teeth with the effort to keep from falling.
It took just another nudge from a blow of wind to finish him.
Xiao’s heart sprung out of his throat, rendering him speechless as his mouth dropped open and his body sank down toward the deck.
He anticipated the burn that would come from the blunt force of hitting it, but it never came.
Xiao heard the sharp sing of anemo in his ear then warm arms around him. It smelled like sugar and looked like the indigo of a quiet night.
Tachi had snatched him right out of the air and slowly guided him back to the deck near Kazuha, who waited with arms crossed.
Xiao’s left leg stretched out and tested the solidity of the floor. The ship rocked back and forth and the planks warped, twisting like they had been submerged in water. Xiao pressed a hand against his mouth and swallowed as the other hand gripped the mast. He extracted the other leg from Tachi’s grip and stood on his own again, leaned toward the mast.
“You okay?” Tachi asked.
Xiao nodded, avoiding his gaze.
“The storm is coming in faster than even I had anticipated,” Kazuha said. “You may want to go inside for this.”
“Don’t need to say that twice,” Tachi said. He gestured toward Xiao. “Let’s go.”
Dinner was not ready yet.
Xiao had to wait, which was not particularly an issue. The issue was that the weather was getting worse outside and he had no good distraction to keep him from thinking about it, with Tachi gone to cook and Kazuha still above-board doing dockwork. Last night’s intrusive thoughts returned with messages about overturned hulls and lightning strikes.
Xiao sat at the dining table alone as he waited, feeling the strain of his body creak just like the ship. Every movement, no matter how small, popped a joint. His wrists, his shoulders, his knees. And the bones felt wrong, as if they were slipping out of place and resting where they weren’t supposed to.
He had broken his bones before and knew the feeling of something being where it shouldn’t, but it had never covered his body so entirely before.
He would not even be able to chop a vegetable without feeling like his wrist was dislocated.
A gust of wind pushed against the ship enough to make bottles on the table rattle. He heard the grind of a chair skidding slightly across the floor. Xiao stared absentmindedly at it as sailors passed through the room, chatting. Such mundane behavior for witnessing the world unravel around you.
It must not have even been an hour before more people gathered around the table and Tachi emerged from the kitchen with bowls of steaming vegetables and rice. Kazuha pulled his chair back, sparing a glance in Xiao’s direction, and got comfortable among them.
One man was talking about cards and something about possibly playing some at the table tonight. Another mocked him, saying that amid the storm, nothing would be staying on the table long. The ceiling echoed dully with motion and movement of all sorts that Xiao could not begin to parse.
He sat back, reaching up to massage his temples. He should have learned his lesson long ago that his own touch felt more searing than soothing.
He heard the clink of chopsticks on the table and looked down. He had noticed before but these chopsticks were from Wanmin Restaurant. They were from a set that Zhongli had purchased there a long time ago. These are your chopsticks, Tachi had said once in a strangely possessive, yet prideful, manner.
How ridiculous, that two slim pieces of wood could be treasured so wholly.
Xiao looked up to see Tachi smiling. Tachi slid into the spot next to him, and suddenly, the chopsticks felt much more significant.
“Make sure to eat everything on your plate,” Tachi said. “I didn’t labor in that kitchen for you not to enjoy it.”
Xiao nodded. He reached for his pair of chopsticks just as the ship swayed to one side. This time, the furniture moved. Tachi leaned forward, catching the pitcher before it could spill over the table. One man, too drunk to stand, fell from his chair and rolled into the wall. Sailors roared with laughter, splitting Xiao’s head open.
Kazuha sighed. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Xiao’s hand shook. The nails of his left hand bit into the table, keeping himself steady as the ship rocked. Why wouldn’t his body listen? He just had to keep a steady enough hand to bring slices of cooked carrot to his mouth.
Ahh, his head hurt, though. He would rather be doing anything else.
Xiao tried. He did. But each second felt prolonged, like someone taking a noodle and stretching it out as far as it would go. How long would it be able to stretch before snapping? Before the loud, chortling laughter was too much, or the swaying of the ship and the knocking above his head?
Would there ever be an escape? Or would he always be chewing on carrots that felt like toughened, flavorless pieces of meat?
The first mouthful was good. He didn’t choke while swallowing. His heart had started with palpitations at hearing the distant roar of thunder outside. The candles on the table failed to mask the severity of the night storm as water dribbled down onto the table from above. The watery grave scenario was already beginning.
Why did you let Tachi drag you into this? You should have just stayed home. You’re taking up space.
The men were on about the cards again. One of them rose to his feet and marched across the floor, toward the ladder that would lead outside. He bumped into Xiao along the way, leaving scorch marks all across the back of his shoulders.
Xiao ignored the interruption, readjusting his grip on his chopsticks, before something moved in his peripheral vision. Someone was standing along the back wall, right below the ladder leading up to the bedlam. Xiao turned his eyes fully onto them.
His blood ran cold.
Her eyes were bright purple, just like the lightning outside. Her usually blue hair was gray under the dim light. At her hip was a red knot, similar to the one Xiao had gifted Mochou.
Ganyu? What was she doing here?
Xiao dropped his chopsticks onto his plate and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them again, she had turned her back on him but was still standing there.
It had been a trick last time. But this… how could he ignore this?
“Xiao?” Tachi asked.
“I will be back,” Xiao muttered.
He pushed his chair back and rose. Tachi might have said something to him but he wasn’t listening.
Xiao followed the sailor toward the other end of the room but the more steps he took forward, the more Ganyu took forward, too. She turned to the ladder and started climbing it. Xiao mimicked her movements, making wide strides in the shadow of her steps.
When Xiao emerged on the upper deck, rain smeared his cheeks. He brought his hands up to shield his face from the rain but they might as well have been invisible. Wind pummeled him from the left then switched directions and shoved him toward the right. Xiao held his arms out to keep balance, his shoes skidding across the floor before he had even made a step forward.
He felt as light as a feather. So small and inconsequential in the grander weather battling the men on the ship.
Some men shouted, competing with the crackle of thunder to be heard. Xiao ignored them, only noticing they were there when Ganyu passed one of them on her way toward the edge of the ship.
He could scarcely make her out through the screens of rain that lashed at them and the dull glow of lanterns that attempted to combat the black of night. The guardrail, too, nearly disappeared into the ocean mist.
Xiao took one step forward, then another. His legs shook but he straightened his spine and sucked in a sharp breath. He tasted cold water on his tongue. It felt like his hair was being torn out from the way the wind whipped it around him.
He reached the railing and grasped it under shaking fingertips, joining Ganyu at her side. The ship rocked and he felt his weight shift forward; his grip turned white-knuckled as Ganyu turned to stare at him.
There was some immense emotion there that he did not understand. Was it grief? Disinterest? It looked sympathetic, whatever it was.
“Ganyu—” Xiao started.
Lightning struck across the sky and the ship rocked once more. When Xiao felt his weight teeter once more toward falling overboard, he gritted his teeth and set his feet apart.
Ganyu, though, had disappeared.
Xiao’s stomach sank. Suddenly, the roar of the waves against the ship and the all-consuming cold and wet that he had been dreading did not feel so far away.
“Ganyu!” Xiao shouted. He twisted around to look behind him and above him, but he already knew— she was down below. He leaned forward, hands clawing for the railing, and saw one speck of that bright blue hair spiraling ever downward.
He could not lose her to this. She was not even supposed to be here! It was his fault. He had to do something.
The weather half solved this problem for him. It provided the push he needed to go over the edge of the ship, same as she had done.
The water was as he had never felt it before. Ice-cold, sharp, and unrelenting. And so, so dark. His breath went fast from his lungs. He sank like a stone, his arms outstretched toward the last flickers of Ganyu’s light that he had been hoping to save.
He had to keep his head above water. He had to swim back up. But he felt so heavy. His ears heard only the gargle of his drowning.
Waves shoved him against the hull of the ship and he felt the searing pain of a throttled body. Outspread hands grasped at whatever they could find, but there was nothing but ragged wood and barnacles.
Legs kicked. The throat filled with even more water. The darkness, the darkness was taking him again!
Then Xiao felt a hand grasp his and pluck him from the ocean like an apple from a tree.
Rain, wind, thunder, lightning, darkness, wood, blue, black, pain, grief.
As soon as he felt the snap of freezing, fresh air on his skin again, Xiao’s throat constricted and he coughed up as much of the water as he could..
Xiao fell onto his knees and curled into himself. Something was keeping him held together, like a chunk of cor lapis that had already been broken apart but was being kept in one piece by gentle hands curved around it.
Men were shouting again. Tears burned his eyes enough to blind. His heart hammered away at his ribcage, each beat bruising him more.
He wanted to cry out. For Ganyu, or Tachi, or even Rex Lapis. To make them understand that things were not supposed to have happened this way. There was still a chance she could be saved! She did not need to die this way!
There had been the weight of a hand on his back that he only noticed once it had disappeared. Tachi’s bright lavender and blue eyes gazed at him. He was trying to get Xiao to stand, tugging lightly at Xiao’s arm, but he did not want to move. Not yet. He had to make Tachi understand.
“Ganyu! Ganyu, she—” Xiao shouted over the roar of the weather, running his throat dry. Enough to peel apart the skin.
Tachi shook his head. He didn’t say anything, not that Xiao would have understood.
Tears streamed down the sides of Xiao’s face. “Don’t you understand!”
Tachi nodded. His face had gone sad, but it was not enough. Xiao opened his mouth to speak again—
—And Tachi leaned forward, swallowing him in a hug. His chin rested on Xiao’s shoulder and he said, “It’s okay.”
It was not okay. It was anything but okay. He had almost drowned to death. She had drowned to death. And he was acting like she hadn’t.
Tachi had not seen what he had.
Nobody had seen it because it wasn’t real. But it felt real. It really had!
When Xiao began to cry, he gripped onto Tachi enough to bruise a human. He held onto Tachi with the intent of never letting go. He was all there was now. Xiao was not even safe from his own mind.
Who was to say whether any of this was real? Or if all of it was just an illusion to make him feel that he was doing something?
Tachi helped Xiao onto his feet and they staggered toward the other end of the ship. He could not bother to do much more than wallow in his grief and wish for an end he was not worthy of.
The weather fell away faster this time. There were no ladders. There was just a door, and then a settee that Xiao fell into with his knees curled up to his chest.
Tachi joined him and he was under Tachi’s wet kimono in a matter of seconds.
He did not care that it was cold. He only cared for Tachi’s arms curled around him, easing the shaking fear that gripped his heart so tightly he could hear the painful pulse in his ears. Xiao reached up and pressed his hands as tightly as he could against his ears, attempting to silence the sound, but that only succeeded at making a resounding feedback that echoed in his head.
Xiao felt hands curl around his and pull away from his ears. What replaced them were Tachi’s smooth palms, pressed closely enough against his ears to block out the sound but not enough to hurt.
Chasing quick breaths, Xiao folded his fingers in Tachi’s kimono and closed his eyes. He buried himself as deeply as he could in that warmth, willing it to consume whatever evil had toyed with him.
Notes:
Thank you for another successful chapter!! It had been a while since I wrote this so even I forgot about the flashback at the beginning of the chapter until I reread it. Did it make the scene at the end hit harder? 😈
As always, thank you for your support!!! I'm realizing you all will eventually be caught up with the 20% left I still have to write, so I'm kicking my ass into gear to write the ending right now. Too bittersweet... but I can't leave it on hiatus forever simply cuz I don't want it to end!
....OH! And some bookeeping! For regular readers who maybe haven't noticed, new tags have been added: "brief suicidial thoughts mentioned", "some Heikazu in part 3 but not significant enough to warrant a relationship tag." (The former is mostly to do with things relating to Irminsul, and the ladder is for chapters 26-31, which I am very excited about)
Chapter 26: Neon-Green Introductions
Summary:
Xiao and Tachi arrive in Inazuma and get settled.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In the morning, the ship was still and quiet.
Tachi reclined back in his velvet seat in the captain’s quarters. Sunlight filtered in from a window leading out to the deck, painting everything in warm hues, especially the back of Xiao’s head, which rested beneath Tachi’s hand.
He heard footsteps outside and men speaking, but not many. It had been a long night and everyone was exhausted.
He had been awake through all of it to keep eyes on Xiao, who slept curled up into Tachi with his head buried in the side of his arm.
Just as the nameless boy had done so long ago.
It was such an old memory that Tachi was surprised he even still remembered it. He was once again capable of the compassion and care that he had thought was so out of his reach. All it took was another near-death situation to make him open his eyes to that truth.
Xiao getting injured was not the way Tachi wanted to learn his lessons. Even if the injuries were not always his fault, it shouldn’t take that much to make him realize things Nahida had already told him years ago.
Tachi had no other option than to admit that he was flawed in more ways than he thought. He was still, at times, abrasive, selfish, and blunt. But he could be kind, patient, and selfless.
And he had also once more found something he would be willing to do anything for.
He had once said, in a quiet whisper during one of his many moments of weakness while tending to an unconscious Xiao, that he enjoyed that quality about humans. He had meant that more as an observation, not actual experience. To want something so wholly and not be able to have it was torture.
Seeing Xiao’s face screwed up in pain was torture.
Tachi had his reservations about returning to this line of thought. He had yearned and strived for a heart for centuries and had learned the hard way that it was unattainable. Would he allow himself once more to chase something down knowing the risk of never being able to have it?
Tachi was still half-expecting Xiao to change his mind. To say what everyone else was thinking — that Tachi was rude, impatient, and not worth the time. Maybe the realization was just taking a little longer to seep into Xiao’s consciousness but it would come eventually. Tachi would delay the moment as long as he could. At least long enough to let Xiao help him.
The door into the cabin opened and Captain Beidou walked in. The seats were arranged on the left side of the room facing the center so that she walked past them on the way to her desk.
“Man, you guys are still sleeping in here?” she asked. “Although I don’t blame you. Last night was a lot, especially for someone who’s never been out on the ocean before.”
Tachi bit his lip. There were plenty of impolite responses that jumped to the forefront of his mind. But she had just gone through the trouble of sailing them all the way out here; best not be rude.
“That’s right,” he said. “You could quiet down a little more. He’s still sleeping.”
“Mmhm,” she hummed. “We docked about an hour ago. ‘Bout time for breakfast— Kazu’s already made some. Might wanna get down there before it’s all gone.”
“There’s no need,” Tachi said. “We’ll eat something on land.”
“Alright, suit yourself.”
Beidou finished whatever she had been working on at the desk then walked back out the door. Xiao turned his head slightly toward the light and seethed.
Tachi pulled his hand away as he said, “Morning.”
“Uhm…”
The sound came out quiet and a little confused. Xiao reached up to rub the sleep from his eyes, shifting out of the kimonos Tachi had wrapped around his middle.
He squinted at the sunlight, lifting up a hand to block it from his face. He closed his eyes after that. How much pain was he in? Was even the sunlight painful? Tachi would not be too surprised if it was, although it would not be good to hear that it had gotten that bad.
“You’ll never guess where we are,” Tachi said.
He had meant it as a playful jest but Xiao stared toward the exit, his eyes glassy. His cheeks flushed with the dull purple of yaksha blood as he surveyed the room. Tachi resisted the urge to feel for a fever. He could take care of himself.
“We’re in Inazuma,” Tachi said.
He unfolded his legs from the settee and Xiao moved away. Xiao stood first, reaching out, as he usually did, to keep himself balanced. Tachi followed his move and turned back to reach for the kimonos he had left on the cushions.
The cloth on both was a little torn up from his fight with Kazuha and the weather from last night. Though not as muddy as Tachi had anticipated, they were still dirtier than he would prefer for his clothing. Xiao’s, too, could use with some freshening up.
There would finally be time today to give them a good washing.
Xiao watched Tachi’s movements quietly. When Tachi finished folding the kimonos over his arm, Xiao’s eyes drifted back toward the exit and he led them back out onto the deck.
Light reflected off the surface of the water and bounced right into their eyes. Xiao seethed and brought up another hand to cover his face.
Tachi shook his head and snapped his fingers again, summoning his hat to his hand. The brass decorations that formed the lotus on the top glimmered in the morning sunlight.
“Here,” Tachi said before Xiao could cross the deck the rest of the way.
Xiao turned and Tachi extended the hat to him. His eyes coasted down to it but he didn’t make much of a reaction other than that. With a heavy sigh, Tachi reached up and plopped the hat onto his head.
“The sun’s getting in your eyes,” Tachi explained, then continued strutting toward the side of the ship where the gangway had been lowered, leading down to the dock. He listened to make sure Xiao was following him, although Tachi expected that Xiao was just as eager as he was to get off the Alcor.
Inazuma showed evidence that spring had already arrived. The sakura trees here bloomed year-round and maple trees were beginning to show new growth. Neon-green leaves grew on sturdy tree trunks that stood proudly in the crisp morning air.
At least they were not yet the blazing red Tachi remembered. He had enough memories to contend with already. The most this old place could do for him was not leave him feeling entirely nostalgic over every red leaf on the ground.
They had landed at Ritou in Narukami Island. It would only take a short walk to get to their first village. The buildings, stairs, and even the stalls were just as he had remembered them. Tachi couldn’t look anywhere without experiencing the pulsing, aching feeling of being back home.
Cherry blossom petals littered the ground year-round. Sea salt pierced the nose. Tiled green roofs stood clustered together between narrow cobblestoned paths. At the end of the dock, Tachi saw an archway leading into the city adorned with the typical talismans and lanterns.
He took the first few steps onto the planks leading toward the city when he heard the urgent thump of shoes behind them. Tachi twisted on his heel and threw out a hand, already prepared for a fight, when Kazuha passed by with a grin on his face.
Tachi’s arm dropped and Kazuha continued running down the boardwalk toward a wooden lamppost in the distance. A stranger had leaned themself up against it, no doubt in an effort to look casual while they waited. Kazuha threw himself into their arms, who only just composed themself enough to accept his embrace.
They smiled and kissed each other’s cheeks, almost as if being overdramatic just for the fun of it. The reunion was far too intimate for Tachi to feel that he wasn’t intruding just by having his eyes pointed in their direction.
Tachi turned toward Xiao, who had the same thought. Xiao was a smidge shorter than Tachi and the borrowed hat was not making him look any taller. Had his hair always looked so voluminous even before being squashed down a little by the hat? Had his eyes always sparked so brightly, or his lips been so… there?
They held eyes for a second, Tachi wishing he had Nahida’s ability to read minds, before the embarrassment was once again too much and he averted his gaze to the dock.
Kazuha moved away from the stranger and lifted his hand toward them in greeting.
Tachi approached with Xiao at his side, examining the man on Kazuha’s shoulder. He didn’t look to be very dangerous. Short, thin, and smiling, the man extended a hand to them once they had gotten close. He had moles under his eyes that moved when his cheeks turned up with a smile.
Kazuha patted his shoulder. “Heizou, these are my friends, Tachi and Xiao. Tachi, Xiao, this is Shikanoin Heizou, my partner.”
“In crime and everything else,” he said with a wink. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Tachi shook his hand, feeling the squeeze of a firm grip. Then Heizou let go, spared a glance in Xiao’s direction, and set his hand on his hip.
“It’s our honor,” Tachi said with a tone that poorly hid his true, very unimpressed, feelings.
“So you’re the two who finally dragged the Alcor back to Inazuma. I have to thank you— Kazu’s been gone for months,” Heizou said. “It was only with this new assignment that he’s finally home.”
“If there’s anyone worth thanking, it’s Traveler,” Tachi said. “They’re the one who recommended Beidou’s ship.”
“At any rate, I am glad we met. Perhaps it is that same property that Xiao was telling me about earlier,” Kazuha said, “of kismet.”
Tachi’s mouth fell open and he chomped his mouth shut again. He leaned forward, attempting to get a clearer read on Xiao’s face, but he’d reached up to pull the hat low down over his eyes. All Tachi could see were deep green strands of hair and dusting of blush on his cheeks.
Was he running a fever or not? Could embarrassment really make him so purple?
“What are you planning to do now?” Kazuha asked.
“We have business with the Raiden Shogun. But before all of that, breakfast,” Tachi said.
“You haven’t eaten yet.” Kazuha frowned.
“Something tells me food would not stay in Xiao’s stomach long if we were to continue staying on that ship.”
“That is fair,” Kazuha said. “I know a place where we could have breakfast. It’s just up the road.”
Tachi gestured. “Lead the way.”
If anyone else had pulled Xiao’s chair out or set his chopsticks on the table for him, he would have felt shame or at least some level of annoyance.
But when they entered a restaurant and Tachi employed a little of his usual fawning, Xiao was only half-lucid enough to notice.
He had not woken up feeling particularly like he wanted to exist anymore. He kept telling himself that he only had to hold out one more day, that today would be the day he finally found answers to whether the karmic debt could be subdued. But the more he told himself that, the less it felt achievable.
The food didn’t taste like much of anything. Xiao’s attention was elsewhere anyway. Thinking to himself what his backup plan was if this didn’t work. And what his plan would be if it did.
It was difficult to consider either. The haze of pain and inner voices was particularly ruthless today.
He thought of Ganyu, Osial, and other memories he should have kept in the past. Although night was very much over, its scars had left strong impressions on his behavior this morning, dragging him into more silence than usual. The hallucinations… they had never been that strong before.
How was everyone in Liyue faring without him? Did anyone even notice that he was gone, aside from Verr Goldet and her husband?
Would they even care if he returned? Not that it mattered much. He had always been content to follow through with his duties regardless of whether anyone noticed. Ah, but he’d forgotten that the contract had been terminated. He didn’t have duties to follow anymore.
He supposed if— once— he got on his feet again, he could return home and convince Zhongli to forge a new contract with him. Though Zhongli would probably not go for it. And Xiao ought not ask, despite the part of him that yearned for it.
That reminded him. Getting back would be an ordeal in and of itself. Tachi would be there, wouldn’t he? Xiao could not imagine going back without him.
Xiao brought a chunk of chicken to his mouth and turned his eyes onto Tachi. He was saying something to Kazuha about bladesmiths and ore. He had ordered a plate of food he still hadn't touched though the smell was strong in Xiao’s nose.
It smelled floral yet was still enough to make Xiao’s mouth water. He was starving enough that his body was not choosy about what nutrients he put in it. Not that he had ever had many dietary restrictions or things he would refuse to eat.
Tachi’s eyes fell on Xiao. “Does that sound alright to you?”
Ah. A question.
Tachi squinted, which helped him read whatever inner thoughts Xiao was having, then he nodded and turned back toward the other two.
“Let’s make today an Isshin-Art training day and a little reintroduction into Inazuma,” Tachi said. “Xiao has never been before. It will serve nicely to give him a little adjustment into what things are like here.”
“Then your plan is to speak to the Raiden Shogun tomorrow?” Kazuha asked.
Tachi nodded. “I assume she’s not going to be going anywhere in twenty-four hours.”
“Kazu and Tachi might be a while,” Heizou said. He smiled at Xiao. “I could give you a little tour of the island if you would like.”
Xiao’s eyes fell once more on Tachi expectantly. Xiao had not spoken a word since this morning and he didn’t feel like starting now. A part of him felt paralyzed, much too helpless and tired to expend the extra effort and mental energy required to articulate his thoughts.
“That won’t be necessary,” Tachi said. “We have other things we need to get finished with. Let’s meet back up here in three hours. Then we will be ready.’
“Alright,” Kazuha said. “I will bring the necessary materials. All I need you to bring is your knowledge.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Tachi said.
After breakfast, Tachi led Xiao a few houses down to the inn. Xiao crossed his arms when they entered. It was a small room with just the front desk stationed with one receptionist. On the table, too, Tachi noticed a few Inazuman trinkets, including a lucky cat whose paw bobbed up and down.
Tachi walked up to the receptionist and asked, “Are there any large suites available?”
The receptionist looked up and reached for the ledger stored on a shelf behind them. They flipped through it for a second, the room filled with nothing but the tik, tik, of the lucky cat’s inner contraption and the flips of a finger thumbing through papers.
“The only one we have open right now is the anniversary wing. Each night costs a thousand mora. Is that alright?”
“Yes, that’s perfect,” Tachi said.
“Then can I have a name?”
“Tachiyaku.”
The receptionist paused a second, gave him a confused look, then continued to rummage around for a key as Tachi reached into his sleeve to pull out the bag of mora he’d stored there.
Tachi put down the mora, the receptionist put down the key, and they executed the exchange. They opened the bag, counted the coins, then gestured toward the hallway.
“You will find your room that way. It comes with its own garden, so don’t feel limited to just the room.”
“Thanks,” Tachi said.
Xiao strutted ahead, needing no more encouragement.
When Xiao entered the room, he did not find a bed there. Only an inset floor leading into a space with just a table and two cushions for seats. The floor was made up of rectangular mats that Xiao had never seen before. There was a lot of room here — about as much, if not more, than the bedrooms in Zhongli’s home.
“The flooring is made out of tatami mats,” Tachi explained. “They’re made out of rush grass and meant to make the floor more comfortable to navigate barefoot. You never wear shoes indoors in Inazuma.”
To make a point, Tachi paused by the entryway to pull his sandals off. Xiao sat down to undo his boots, reaching to untie the piece of jade he kept around his calf. It had been so long since he last bathed, he realized. He would have to make a point of washing up today.
Tachi finished removing his sandals, stood, strutted across the room, and stopped at the other side. He reached for the edge of the wall and pushed it back. What Xiao had once assumed was a wall was a sliding door with space leading into another room.
The new room looked much like the other one only even more empty and with half-open screen doors that revealed blazing pinks and purples from a garden full of sakura trees beyond it.
“That’s the living room. This is the bedroom,” he explained with a gesture. “It’s empty right now because in Inazuma, people sleep on the floor. We’ll bring out the shikifuton and kakebuton when it’s time later.”
Xiao nodded. That was fine.
Tachi padded back into the living area and played with some of the shelving while Xiao placed his shoes down next to Tachi’s and rose to walk through the space toward the garden on the other side.
He heard the rush of water. And when he approached the bedroom, he saw better that a small wooden porch overlooked the gated-in garden that the receptionist had mentioned. A small shrine constructed of rocks and figures Xiao didn’t recognize sat at the base of one of the cherry blossom trees. Mossy rocks and grasses peeked out above a river, which was deep enough to submerge up to Xiao’s knees.
It was small but private. Xiao could see himself spending some time here just meditating to the sound of water trickling over rocks.
“I plan to do some laundry,” Tachi said, his voice carrying over from inside the room. He appeared at Xiao’s side with some fabric in his hands. “If you would like, I could wash your clothing, too. I brought your old outfit with me so you could change into that. I was working on patching up the shirt, which I finished a few nights ago.”
He extended the bundle of fabric and Xiao accepted it.
It felt smooth under his fingertips. Familiar.
Xiao sighed with relief. He moved to sit down and reached to unbutton the front of his shirt. When he stripped it from his chest, he felt the tingle of cold on his skin. He looked down and saw that his karmic debt still clung to him like a sheen of fog on the morning grass. Clothing had been enough to cover it, but now he saw it clearly.
He sometimes forgot that other people could see it now. This black, mistlike substance had always been inside of him but was now beginning to break through the cracks of his foundation.
Last night had been cruel. That he had almost lost his life like that, to something that was so clearly a ruse meant to lure him into the maw of death… All of Tachi’s efforts keeping him alive, all to be wiped away in the blink of an instant…
Xiao took a sharp breath in then exhaled. Tachi sighed, too. Which, because it was a behavior Xiao knew he didn’t need, drew his attention.
Tachi’s eyebrows knotted together. “Are you alright? Need some space?”
Xiao shook his head. He was not sure what he needed anymore. Nothing seemed capable of easing his nerves.
“Tell me. Whatever you need, I will get it for you.”
He shook his head again. How could he ask for something he didn’t even know how to articulate? He had never been good with social interactions. Xiao would keep his mouth shut, lest he say something stupid or embarrassing.
Tachi sensed this and sighed. He made to turn and walk away.
Before he got very far, though, Xiao grabbed his wrist.
Tachi spared a look in Xiao’s direction and frowned. Xiao had bit his lip hard enough to sting. He tugged Tachi closer, and Tachi obeyed, moving until he was in the circle of Xiao’s arms. Xiao hugged him tightly and pressed his nose against Tachi’s shoulder, taking in his smell.
Xiao took a long, deep breath, and closed his eyes.
Warmth. Sunlight. Flowers. These things were not so unattainable.
Xiao felt a hand brushing across his back, and for once, it did not hurt.
“It’s okay,” Tachi whispered.
And for once, Xiao believed him.
Xiao pulled away and Tachi smiled. It had been so long since Xiao smiled that he was not even sure his lips were doing the right gesture, but he tried.
“Feel a little better?” Tachi asked.
“Yes,” Xiao said, his voice cracked and barely audible. But it was there.
Notes:
So I was going to post maybe 2 hours earlier than this but then I realized I had a sketch I could post with this chapter so I did the damn thing!!! I don't like cleaning up traditional sketches digitally and I'm trying to figure out how I can keep the traditional lineart without having to redraw it from the sketch and I think this was a fun attempt at doing that.
I can't explain to y'all how much I was obsessed with the Kazuha and Heizou scene when I first wrote it. Like, I was SO EXCITED, haha!! "My partner, in crime and everything else." BURY ME NOW!!! I've died of fawning over it, haaa
Anyway, thank you for reading!
P.S. Another tag update: Added happy ending!! Too many regular commenters were worried about that and I felt bad, lmao (fwiw I always planned to write a happy ending but now it's definitely set in stone!!)
Chapter 27: Glass Half-Empty, Glass Full
Summary:
Tachi helps Kazuha with some Isshin Arts-associated tasks. Tachi and Xiao go to dinner with Kazuha and Heizou then talk at the inn afterward about their plans for tomorrow.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
In three hours, Tachi and Xiao had both gotten their chances to get changed into fresh clothing and to take baths. Tachi meant to leave Xiao completely alone to focus on his meditation, but as soon as Xiao was out of his sight, he got this annoying itch on his back that wouldn’t leave him alone.
So, Tachi eventually joined Xiao at his side with some more clothing that needed patching up. He kept a sharp eye on the time until they were supposed to go back to Kazuha and Heizou.
Kazuha and Heizou dragged them out of the city and to a smaller, more remote furnace owned by an old couple. Tachi explained that they were performing some secretive sword arts and the couple didn’t seem to mind when he offered to pay for their lunch in the city while they were busy practicing their blacksmithing.
They set up the workstation outside the house. Xiao and Heizou picked out a table with some wooden stools nearby to watch them work. Tachi turned toward the furnace and frowned. It was a small thing — more of an oven, really. Did it even get hot enough to be usable for this sort of work?
Getting started was the hardest part. Falling back into old routines he hadn’t even thought about in several centuries did not come naturally. But Tachi still initiated the first steps to forging a blade, and Kazuha stood off to the side, his arms crossed and nodding as he watched.
It was once they started getting into what made this particular sword art unique that Tachi ran into his first issue.
He’d encouraged Kazuha to follow along with him, and he was, with his own piece of unrefined metal and a clamp to keep it held down while he hammered at it.
Tachi paused, noticing that Kazuha hadn’t followed his lead in striking at the right moment. Tachi set down the blade he had been working on and took a step closer to examine Kazuha’s progress.
“What are you doing?” Tachi asked. “I thought I told you to strike while it was still hot. The iron is useless if you don’t strike it at the right time. And you already have cracks there.” He leaned forward and pointed.
“Yet you are striking too early,” Kazuha responded. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Tachi turned once more toward the forge. They had left a piece of iron smoldering in there for use later, and now seemed a better time than any to fish it out now that they had made disasters out of their first attempts.
“Of course I do!” Tachi exclaimed.
Tachi placed his new piece of smoldering iron on the anvil.
Kazuha pointed. “Your hand is burning.”
Tachi looked down. He was right; the flames from the furnace had caught on his glove and sparked with fire. Tachi dunked his hand in the bucket of water at his side, but it was too late. Kazuha brought a hand up to his lips, his eyes playful, as Heizou broke off into laughter nearby.
Tachi could feel the anemo stirring up inside of him, casting the marks on his hands in that familiar blue glow. At least Xiao was not laughing at him, although he looked like he might be smiling, too.
Despite his stupid mistake, Tachi couldn’t bring himself to be that frustrated over it. Not when it could make Xiao smile.
Over lunch, Tachi spread out a map of Inazuma and showed it to Xiao. He leaned in close just as he had with Kazuha earlier, his voice dipping into a quieter whisper as he explained where each of the islands were and what had happened on them.
“This is Nazuki Beach, and this is Tatarasuna Island,” he explained with a finger pointed. Then he lifted his hand and gestured toward the ocean. “It’s that way.”
It was one thing for Tachi to tell him stories about his past and another to experience it in person. It felt more intimate, more solid.
“Shakkei Pavilion?” Xiao asked.
Tachi hummed. He pointed. “There. Why? Are you interested in visiting?”
Xiao shook his head. Just as the Chasm brought back bad memories for him, he wondered if perhaps Tachi felt that same way about the pavilion. Even if Tachi did not, was there any point in wanting to go there? A place was just a place until you gave it meaning otherwise. And Tachi seemed the sort of person to have erased all significance attached to this place a long time ago.
“Which island did you grow up on?” Kazuha asked.
“Tatarasuna,” Tachi said. “I knew your descendant, Niwa Hisahide. And Mikoshi Nagamasa was the inspector at the time. They were good people.”
“I sense there’s a lot of history there,” Heizou said.
“More than I have time in the day to explain,” Tachi said. He rolled the map up before Xiao could ask more about it. “That was all I wanted to show you. We’re already on the right island — Grand Narukami Shrine is just up a path nearby.”
And they would be walking it tomorrow. Just one more day.
“Kazuha,” Tachi said. He turned toward him. “I have a few blueprints I’d like to leave with you before we’re finished today. I’ll be going back to the inn for that. But I need you to provide some parchment and ink for me.”
“Of course,” Kazuha said.
Clouds had rolled in again when Xiao and Tachi returned to their room to get started on the blueprints. Kazuha and Heizou had left for the moment, saying they ought to hang out again later for a meal but that Kazuha might check in later to see how they were getting on.
Xiao sat down next to Tachi and watched him prepare his materials. He put down a scroll of parchment, a stick of lead, and some brushes alongside a closed well of ink.
Xiao shifted on his cushion and cast his eyes down to Tachi’s hands. He had picked up the stick of lead and posed it over the parchment before pausing and looking at him.
“I’m going to get started,” Tachi said. “You don’t have to watch if it bores you. It’s pretty tedious work, after all. But doesn’t really matter to me what you do.”
Xiao shook his head. No, he wanted to watch. Kazuha had mentioned a little poetry book and it got Xiao thinking that he had never gotten to see Tachi’s handwriting before. He had never really seen Mochou’s, either.
Tachi did not begin by writing down words. He made long, exacting gestures with his pencil, drawing the image of a sharp blade. Each stroke was long and continuous until it hit its end and he had to lift his hand up again to put down another line.
It was a slow, methodical process. Xiao had been hoping to stay awake long enough to watch him put down some notations but the sketching phase took longer than he had anticipated.
And it was such a calming process. Akin to meditation.
Somewhere between one stroke and the next, Xiao’s head had gotten heavy and his eyelids had started to sag. Tachi made another mark on the parchment and Xiao pondered the open lap in front of him.
After last night, Xiao had fewer qualms about invading Tachi’s personal space. Xiao was not close with many people and it was true that he was not sure what the proper etiquette was supposed to be, but then again, neither of them cared very much about “proper etiquette.”
Tachi was familiar. He was comfortable.
And Xiao was tired.
Xiao leaned forward and rested his head on the side of Tachi’s shoulder. Xiao dropped his arms into his lap and released the tension in his shoulders.
Tachi hummed, the scratching on parchment continued, and Xiao closed his eyes as he sucked in a slow, tired breath.
Tachi found that he was struggling to concentrate.
He had expected the blueprint-writing to be a good chance to get a moment alone with his thoughts, which was indeed the case, although there were more there than even he had anticipated.
Xiao sat at his side, his hands in his lap, staring at the table. Tachi was not one shaken much by pressure. He invited Xiao’s gaze; in fact, Xiao might even learn something.
Tachi’s marks were slow and deliberate. He had never written a blueprint, only destroyed them. But he remembered the ones he destroyed very well. If there was one advantage to being a puppet, he supposed it was his memory.
Who knew what would become of these documents after he was done with them. If they would lead to anything, or if they would rot away on a shelf somewhere, doomed to be forgotten forever. But Kazuha was intent on preserving his family name, and in this way, Tachi expected he would want to keep these close to the chest.
Some point in the middle of finishing up the first blueprint, Tachi felt a weight on his shoulder. He turned to find Xiao sitting there with his eyes closed, attempting to catch some rest. Tachi spared a second to put his writing implement down and guided Xiao’s shoulder down toward his lap.
Xiao held no resistance at all, just followed Tachi’s touch and ended with his eyes closed as he rested his head on Tachi’s lap.
“Hm,” Tachi hummed, satisfied.
Tachi heard the door open and turned to find Kazuha standing on the threshold. He noticed Xiao resting and lifted a hand to press against his lips as he approached.
“What do you want?” Tachi asked, dipping his voice into a whisper on the off chance that Xiao was actually asleep.
“Just wanted to talk,” Kazuha said.
Tachi’s lips screwed down into a frown. He could have worse company, though.
“So, you have been gone from Inazuma for a long time. How do you like it?” Kazuha asked.
“I don’t much,” Tachi answered. “I feel an expected level of detachment from it all. I wrote this place off a long time ago with no intention of ever righting my wrongs to it. So, I’m not surprised that I don’t feel any of the nostalgia a human would over it.”
“What made you change your mind to come back?” Kazuha asked.
He said it like he didn’t know, but his eyes were already coasting down to Tachi’s lap.
He grinned. “Why are you making me waste my breath on an answer you already know?”
“Traveler told me a little bit about yourself and I was curious to hear you actually say it,” Kazuha said.
“No amount of wringing my neck is going to get me to do something I don’t want to,” Tachi said. “And despite whatever curiosities you have about me, I’m not that complex a being anymore. I came for Xiao. That’s evident. There is no other underlying reason to my actions. Sometimes they are just as simple as they seem.”
“What is your story with him?” Kazuha asked. “How did a puppet come to fall in love with a yaksha adeptus?”
Tachi laughed. “You think I have the time to explain? It’s a long story and not all that interesting, either. Just the same old thing you’d expect.”
“I think every love story is interesting because of their unique circumstances and conditions. No two are alike.”
Tachi hummed.
He had lost interest in the conversation. Discussing Xiao was one thing, but discussing ideas such as love was another. And not one that Tachi wasn’t very prepared for, either.
“The first blueprint is done,” Tachi said, lifting it up and shoving it in Kazuha’s face. Kazuha grabbed the edges of the parchment and lowered it.
He smiled. “Thank you.”
“Mmh,” Tachi hummed. He moved onto the next one.
When Xiao woke again, he felt sunlight on his face and arms, which were sore from being bent underneath him.
He was still in Tachi’s lap. But the scribbling of the pen had stopped. Xiao turned his head to check and, just as he had suspected, they were in the room alone.
“You finally awake?” Tachi asked.
Xiao lifted his head and felt a rush of dizziness washing over him. He wanted to drop his head back down. But he would persist and sit up.
He closed his eyes slowly then opened them again.
Tachi was in his full outfit. It felt like it had been so long since he had been dressed from head to toe without the outer layers stripped away to reveal the markings on his chest and stomach.
“Kazuha is insisting that we have dinner with them,” Tachi said. “We don’t have to go, of course. But it’s an offer.”
Xiao shook his head. It did not matter.
“Is there a reason you’re not speaking?” Tachi asked.
Xiao opened his mouth. The words came out shaky, but they came.
“I do not trust my words right now.”
“If there’s something you want to say, then you should say it. You know there’s no point holding back with me. I can handle it.”
“That is not what I mean,” Xiao said. “It’s about yesterday.”
Tachi nodded.
“I meant to thank you sooner. But words don’t feel enough to articulate my gratitude," Xiao said.
“You’re welcome.”
Xiao nodded. That was good then. That was all he had meant to say, and yet…
“Is there something else?” Tachi asked.
“I… I’m unsure,” Xiao said.
“Who is Ganyu?” Tachi asked.
“She is a half-qilin adeptus who works with the Qixing. In terms of adepti, she is one of the older of them. Traveler once suggested I be her mentor, but I refused. To be associated with a slaughterer is not the path her future is headed toward.”
“But you still think of her.”
“Of course I do,” Xiao said. “I think of all the adepti from time to time. It is just that her circumstances in particular are very unique. She is not mortal nor adepti, but something entirely different. I heard it said that she, along with Shenhe, are just the people Liyue needs to foster a prosperous future. To bridge the gap between adepti and humans. After all, the time of the adepti is waning.”
“You mentioned before being unhappy about the termination of your contract with Zhongli,” Tachi said. “I am assuming your idea of utility has no small part to play in that.”
Xiao nodded.
“The adepti are losing their relevance in Liyue, you don’t have a job to give you purpose anymore, you’re afflicted with karma that is slowly killing you…”
Xiao’s lips drew into a slim line.
“It is all very bleak. But lucky for you, I’m familiar with my own bleak circumstances. We will shoulder through it together,” Tachi said. “You are much greater and more significant than your utility to other people. Defining yourself only by what you can provide to others is what makes people create centuries-long grudges for gods who will eventually never even know they existed.”
He had a point. And very personal experience to back it up. And yet…
“I am not used to living without direction,” Xiao said. “I have always been a slaughterer. I know no other life. What am I meant to do now?”
“When a compass changes direction, it’s still pointing somewhere,” Tachi said. “But it will be up to you to find out what that ‘somewhere else’ is.”
“You are right,” Xiao said. “There’s no point wasting all this time mulling over something I will have to learn over time. It would seem you have a much better understanding of these things than me.”
“I’ve had my practice,” Tachi said. “But don’t worry, it becomes easier over time. You will find your way. It might just take some effort in the beginning.”
“I hope you’re right,” Xiao said.
“I know I am.”
When Tachi smiled, it was with an air of self-assurance that brought some relief to Xiao, too.
"Well, with all of that being said,” Tachi said, “let's go meet up with the others."
...
...
Dinner was held at a restaurant stall down the road from their inn. Xiao sat at the end of their row of seats, watching as Kazuha poured glasses of sake for everyone and pushed them down the length of the counter.
Xiao hesitated to touch his drink but Tachi threw his back without a second glance. They did not order food right away. They started with conversation first.
"So, Xiao. How much do you know about the Raiden Shogun?" Heizou asked.
Xiao perked up at the mention of his name. "Oh. Not much. Just what Tachi told me."
When waiting for the Alcor to arrive, Xiao recalled, it was one of the things Tachi had mentioned.
"And what was that?" Kazuha asked.
Xiao looked toward Tachi for any indication of what he ought to say, but Tachi only lifted one eyebrow. Xiao did not want to say it for fear that Tachi's biases would make Xiao out to be the sort of person who didn’t respect the gods. But still, in truth, much of what Tachi had told him was exactly that.
"The Raiden Shogun is a ruthless god who will stop at nothing to achieve eternity," Xiao said. "Up until recently, she had sealed herself away in a separate plane in order to meditate. It was not until Traveler visited that she abolished what was known as the Vision Hunt Decree and retook control from the puppet who had been standing in her stead."
"Interesting," Heizou said. "I've been keeping my ear to the ground about the whole matter and yet there's still things you mentioned there that I don't think I've ever heard before."
"Your god is not as transparent about her past as she may seem," Tachi said. "There are convolutions that are not worth the brainpower of attempting to untangle, especially in the eyes of a mortal whose life is so short. Better not waste your time thinking about it."
Kazuha turned toward Heizou. "Ei, the god of eternity, wanted time to mull over a way of attaining eternity without being disturbed. She came to the conclusion that if she were to create a puppet in her image that was capable of performing her tasks, she could slip away to her own plane and meditate. Tachiyaku was her first attempt at such a puppet."
"Yes," Tachi said. "And look at how well that went over for me."
"And now you're aiming to restore an old connection, hm?" Heizou asked.
"Nope," Tachi said. "Just cashing in a favor she owes me for dragging me into this miserable world."
Heizou laughed. "It's not that bad, is it?"
"Life is what you make of it, and some make worse out of it than others," Kazuha said.
"Right. Well. Can't have dinner with just alcohol, can you?" Tachi asked. "Let's get to ordering actual food before my friend here starves to death." He gestured to Xiao with his empty glass of sake.
"I've been meaning to ask about that," Heizou said. "I'm very intrigued at the fact that you are a puppet and yet behave exactly like a human. How did our god manage to create you?"
"Using very complex workings that your small mind probably could never begin to comprehend," Tachi said.
"I think you underestimate him," Kazuha said. He leaned back as Heizou cleared his throat. "Heizou's intellect is second to none among those in the Tenryou Commission. From the second he laid eyes on you both, he was already running calculations in his mind. Isn't that right?"
"It's true," Heizou said. "You don't need to puff me up with compliments, though. Now I'm embarrassed."
"You will get used to it. You are someone worthy of every compliment," Kazuha said.
They shared a glance, Kazuha leaned in for a kiss, and heat sparked down the length of Xiao's back that brought a flush to his cheeks.
Tachi cleared his throat and clapped one hand on the table. "Could we get some service?"
The others continued their discussion as Xiao played with the cup he had been given. He did not feel like drinking. In fact, he did not feel like doing much at all. But the others were good conversation despite making him feel a little uncomfortable at times.
Xiao had not meant to keep such close eyes on Kazuha and Heizou. But the longer dinner stretched on, the more Xiao's eyes coasted to the hand thrown casually across the other's shoulders. At times, Heizou would slip in a joke or two and Kazuha would laugh and lean in close enough to plant a kiss on the other man’s cheek.
How did one manage to make such a connection with another person? Why did witnessing someone else's affection make Xiao’s cheeks heat? He really had a lot to learn about humans and their ways. But how would he even begin accomplishing that? The guidance would need to come from someone else, and the only person Xiao knew was…
“Tachiyaku,” Heizou said. “That’s such a unique name.”
“Spare me the musings,” Tachi said. “I’ve heard it all before. Even your partner there has mentioned it.”
Xiao turned to watch as Tachi played with his empty glass, sliding it across the counter into his other hand. He was turned away from Xiao, looking at Heizou instead, revealing the gathering of hair against the nape of his neck.
“Where did it come from?” Heizou asked.
“I gave it to myself.”
“Interesting. Are you by chance a fan of kabuki theater?”
“What do you think.”
Tachi’s voice came out flat. Kazuha and Heizou, who had both been indulging in sake, laughed loudly.
“I see. So that’s how it’s gonna to be,” Heizou said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tachi said. He turned his eyes back onto Xiao. “Hey, can I have a moment in private with you?”
Xiao’s eyes widened. Had Tachi read his mind? No, that was impossible. Then why the sudden question? Not that he was going to say no to it, of course.
“Alright,” Xiao said.
He rose from his chair, leaving behind his finished dinner and the untouched glass of sake.
Tachi slid out of his seat and led him down the street. The paved paths ended, crumbling into a dirt road leading away from the city.
Tachi paused next to a low wooden fence and crossed his arms. The commotion of the city faded away, leaving only the sound of crickets and karmic debt-fueled hatred in Xiao’s ears.
“Are you alright?” Tachi asked.
“I am fine,” Xiao said. “Is that what you pulled me away for?”
“Your cheeks are flushed. I was just… curious.”
That made Xiao’s cheeks burn even worse. He cleared his throat. “Oh, uh…”
“I was wondering if it was a fever. Or the sake? Have you been drinking?”
“No.”
“Hm. Okay.”
“You don’t need to coddle me,” Xiao said. “I brought this upon myself. I am handling it fine.”
“Of course,” Tachi said. “If that’s all, then we should probably head back to our table.”
Tachi turned on his heel once more and took a step toward the restaurant. Xiao leapt forward to grab his wrist.
“Wait!” Xiao gasped.
Tachi whipped his head back toward him, his eyebrows furrowed. “What?”
Xiao retracted his hand, digging his fingers into the nape of his neck instead. “Ah. Nuh- nothing.”
Tachi dropped the firm posture of his shoulders and shook his head. “If you wanted my company all to yourself, you should have said something. I’d never turn down a chance for us to spend more time together.”
“That is not what I meant,” Xiao said, although his embarrassment probably gave him away.
“I was just kidding! I didn’t mean to rile you up. But really, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. If you have something you need to tell me, just say it. I can’t read minds.”
Xiao swallowed. His throat squeezed his windpipe. “Do humans… are humans always so physically affectionate?”
“Oh.” Tachi frowned. “No. I think their behavior is intentional but probably not because they want to provoke people. It’s just a behavior those stupid lovey-dovey types engage in that has the side-effect of being annoying.”
“Then why do they do it?”
“I don’t know. Because it’s fun? It probably has to do with some chemical that’s caused by the proximity of being around another person you like.”
“Ah. So it’s like an elemental reaction,” Xiao said.
“Not exactly.”
“Then I am not sure I understand.”
“That’s to be expected,” Tachi said. “Humans will always find unexpected ways to confuse us. But don’t let it get to you too much. These are the sort of lessons you can only come to understand over time.”
“I think I might understand but I am not sure. Is there any way I could come to understand it better faster? Perhaps…”
The word fell from his mouth and Tachi perked up, gesturing for him to continue. But he shook his head.
“No, forget it. It’s foolish,” Xiao said.
“And after you went through the trouble of grabbing my attention,” Tachi said. “Such a shame.”
Xiao bit the inside of his cheek, which had the foreseen consequence of making his skin burn there like he was eating a jueyun chili.
He ought to tell Tachi how he felt before tomorrow. Things will be different after tomorrow. They will have some sort of answer, or at least a dried-up lead, about his debt. Tachi will have confronted his creator. There were too many unpredictable variables all stretching to different possibilities that needed to be connected by at least one string, that red string of fate that Kazuha had mentioned.
“Tachi,” Xiao began. He swallowed. “I have… feelings… for you.”
“Positive feelings, right?” Tachi asked.
He didn’t look convinced. Xiao frowned. Mochou had been much better at this.
“I, um…”
Xiao picked at the glove covering his hand. How best to articulate this? What if Tachi did not feel the same way? Is this how it was supposed to be done?
“We were beginning to think you two had left us at the dinner table alone.”
Heizou’s voice floated into Xiao’s ears and he froze up. He turned to find Heizou and Kazuha approaching, a mischievous grin stretched across Heizou’s lips.
“Were we really such bad company?”
“Xiao’s drunk and needs to go lie down,” Tachi lied.
Kazuha looked over at him and very quickly widened his eyes. “Oh yes, I can see that.”
Ah, had the blushing gotten worse?
But more importantly, he was not drunk! And Tachi knew that! Was lying really necessary?
“That’s a shame,” Heizou said. “I had been hoping to probe you with a few more questions, but alas, if you have to get back, then we can share more discussions at a later time.”
“Later time. Right,” Tachi said. “Thanks again for inviting us out to dinner.”
“Thank you,” Xiao added.
“You’re welcome,” Kazuha said. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
Kazuha and Heizou exchanged another round of goodbyes before turning away and strolling back toward the city with arms slung around each other’s shoulders. They laughed and laughed, enough to make Xiao frown.
“Hey. Let’s get back inside, hm? Tachi asked. “It’s going to start getting cold out.”
“Mmhm,” Xiao hummed.
He sighed and followed Tachi back to their inn, keeping his eyes on the ground beneath their feet.
Back at the inn, Xiao changed into the loose clothing Tachi had washed for him earlier that day and sat on the porch overlooking the garden.
He had never seen some of these plants before. There were small blue flowers that glowed at night, casting their soft hue on the cherry blossom trees above. A breeze rustled by, dropping pink petals into the water that trickled past.
The flush in Xiao’s cheeks from earlier had subsided, leaving him with nothing but a cold pit in his stomach.
Perhaps Tachi did not feel how Xiao thought he did about their relationship. But that was okay; Xiao had not been hoping for much.
But still… had Tachi not said that he cared about him? He could not dismiss Xiao’s attempt at a confession, could he?
Tachi was inside playing with the bedding but Xiao didn’t want to sleep inside. The fresh air felt good for his head.
Xiao heard the shuffling of the futons and Tachi’s footsteps from inside the room. Xiao spent so much of his time in isolation that he enjoyed the sounds created by another person, especially a person he liked. It was a small bite of the mundane life that was unachievable for him.
The rustle of blankets accompanied Tachi’s satisfied hum as something hit the mats with a hard fwop. Once that noise subsided, Xiao heard the soft paps of Tachi’s footsteps on the tatami mats.
When Tachi sat down next to him with one final rustle of fabric, Xiao averted Tachi’s gaze.
What were they to each other? What did he want to be? For fear of being selfish, Xiao didn’t even want to think of the word.
Partners. In crime and everything else.
But the word was much too hopeful and too mortal. How could a being who lives for thousands and thousands of years ever find someone who could complete them enough to satisfy them for all that time? Was the red string of fate really that powerful?
Zhongli had a history with such things. He had loved and lost many times. But Zhongli was also sociable, more in touch with the mortals whom he swore to protect. Xiao could never hope to get as close to them as Zhongli did.
The thoughts brought Xiao no small amount of disappointment. Just as with everything else, Tachi would eventually move on.
At least they still had this moment. Another one of those silences that felt warmer and calmer than it had any right to be.
A sound ruptured the silence but it only made the moment sweeter. It was the trill of a flute, the same one Xiao had heard before he’d collapsed from his fight with the hilichurls all that time ago.
The notes were long, low, and quiet.
Xiao turned and stared.
Tachi was dressed in a short-sleeved white kimono pulled tight around his shoulders and torso. For someone who so often preferred to sleep without a kimono, Tachi’s change of wardrobe was strange but not unwelcome. The knot that Xiao had made him dangled over where his heart would be, a bright red mark in the dimming evening.
He fit in here. He fit in among the tatami mats, cherry blossom trees, and talismans of good fortune that hung over every stone archway they walked underneath.
The tune, however, did not befit the place. It was the same cheery thing it had been last time. Jumping into puddles after a rainy day. Touching ground again after days at sea longing for trees and earth.
Tachi’s hair was mussed a little, the bangs that hung above his cheekbones shoved behind his ears. Thin strands of purple rested just high enough on his forehead not to get into his closed eyes.
Xiao remembered something Tachi had said recently on the Alcor.
My hair was longer. I walked around barefoot. I was pretty empty in the head.
How interesting that so much time could pass and you could change so much physically yet still deep down contain some part of the person you used to be.
When the song ended, Tachi lowered his flute and turned his eyes onto Xiao.
“I did not know you were the source of that song,” Xiao said.
“You fell into a coma shortly afterward, so I’m not surprised,” Tachi said. “The playing isn’t that bad, is it?”
“No. On the contrary. It’s very soothing,” Xiao said.
“Do you feel healed?” Tachi asked.
His smirk told Xiao it was meant to be a joke. He tried to smile.
“A little,” Xiao said.
“Good,” Tachi said as he smiled.
“About earlier…” Xiao started. “Do you have feelings for me?”
“Yes,” Tachi said. “I just hadn’t been anticipating that discussion at that time.”
“Could we talk about it now?” Xiao asked.
“Of course.”
“Okay.”
“So you have feelings for me,” Tachi said. “I expected as much. Even hoped for it. But that does not mean I’m any more prepared for what comes next than you are. To be quite honest, you are the only one I have ever had these sorts of conversations with.”
“Me too,” Xiao said. “I do not know what is supposed to come next. Or to even trust these feelings at all.”
“It’s okay to put your faith in this. I would never wish pain upon you,” Tachi said.
Xiao sighed. “You are very blatant in your favoritism for me.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I can’t afford to dance around my feelings. It’s not my habit and I don’t enjoy when other people do it. That is just another reason I like you— you’re upfront about your feelings.”
“Or at least try to be, when I know what they are,” Xiao said. “But these feelings are different. I have never experienced them before.”
“But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Tachi said. “They don’t feel bad, do they?”
“No,” Xiao said. “Especially when you… ah.”
Tachi’s smile turned mischievous. “When I what?”
“When you held me the other night. It felt… good.”
“I would do it again. Whatever you wished.”
“No one has ever coddled me as much as you do,” Xiao said. “Always preparing my meals and clothing. Making sure I am not too cold or tired. If it were anyone else, I would find it annoying. I am an adeptus yaksha, not someone’s house pet. But with you, I find it… comforting.”
“That’s good to hear then,” Tachi said. “You’re not exactly in a position to be looking after yourself right now. When I woke from my coma, I had to go through a similar thing. Learning how to depend on other people takes some getting used to. But it does feel good.”
“I wish I were well enough to fend for myself. I loathe to imagine what I would do if confronted with a fight.”
“You would probably get yourself involved despite your better judgment.”
“You are right,” Xiao said.
Tachi laughed. He leaned back in his seat and threw his head up to stare at the sky. A full moon glowed behind a veil of clouds that floated rapidly past. Fireflies fluttered by, their wings flapping weakly in Xiao’s ear. Tachi swatted at one of them and they flickered behind the cherry blossom tree’s petals, disappearing into the night.
“How are you feeling about confronting her tomorrow?” Xiao asked.
He was not sure how to refer to her. “Mother?” “Creator?” “Electro archon?” Xiao did not have any comparable relationships to look at as a reference for whatever this was.
“I’m eager to get it over with,” Tachi said. “You, Traveler, and Nahida are really the only ones who understand even a sliver of my old incarnations. I really would have preferred to keep it that way. Of all the people I would have know about my past, she is the last one on the list.”
“Why?” Xiao asked.
“Because I don’t envision her having much sympathy for my situation despite the fact that she is the cause of all of it. Because I can’t imagine her as anything but the apathetic god who abandoned me as soon as she saw those tears in my eyes. Every time I remember that, the fire that used to fuel me rages all over again. I’m afraid no amount of meditation is going to help with this.”
“Perhaps it will not be so bad,” Xiao said.
“Perhaps not. But likely it will,” Tachi said. “It’s alright. I’ve prepared for this for a long time. After tomorrow, I won’t ever have to look back. In the meantime, I will bear whatever discomfort and frustrations I must.”
“What exactly do you plan to ask of her?” Xiao asked.
“I’ll demand that she give me the specifications for creating an external vessel capable of storing your debt. We can gather the materials for it ourselves. If she refuses, I’ll kindly fill her in on my past and her involvement in it. That ought to make her more receptive to helping,” Tachi said.
Xiao nodded.
Tachi closed his eyes. He leaned back until the weight of his body dragged him down onto the floor. He lay flat on his back and lifted his hands to play with the tassel that rested on his chest. Little did he know how much it felt like playing with Xiao’s heartstrings.
Xiao placed his hand down on the space between them and looked down. Tachi’s hair had slid away from his forehead, revealing the smooth, moon-white pale of his skin.
“I have a request,” Xiao said.
“What is it?” Tachi asked. He turned his eyes onto Xiao, the pupils large and sparking like electro.
“After this is over, I want you to promise that you will not leave this time.”
“Are you sure?” Tachi asked. “It’s not too late for you to decide I’m not the sort of person you want to associate yourself with. At least wait until tomorrow to see how things go, since my confrontation with her will bring out what I’m really like. Then you can make your conclusion.”
“I have seen enough already,” Xiao said.
Tachi glanced the other direction, feigning disinterest. “What have you seen?”
“I see someone who is compassionate and willing to protect the things he cares about with a fervent zeal. He does not let anything get in the way of what he wants and he is vocal about his thoughts and feelings. When I see him, the world does not feel like such a dark place anymore. He’s like sunlight.”
“Sunlight, huh?” Tachi murmured.
“Yes.”
“That’s funny. I’ve never thought of myself that way. But still. If you really insist on keeping me around, then I won’t refuse. After all, I’ve cherished our time together, too.”
“We will have to have Zhongli write up a contract.”
Tachi laughed. “It’s that serious?”
“Yes.”
“Liyuan people and their contracts…” Tachi sighed. “His stipulations will probably be very precise. He’s an archon, after all. I will have to get Nahida to take a look to make sure the contract’s fair.”
“Will you be going back to Sumeru after this?”
“Yes. Eventually. But all in due time,” Tachi said. “We have more important things to worry about first.”
“If this does not work, we will have to resort to a second plan,” Xiao said. “Do you have any in mind?”
“Already looking toward the future when we’re not even done with the present,” Tachi said. “One thing at a time. I have some ideas but they’ll depend on how much she has to tell us.”
“I am eager to find out what sort of person she is,” Xiao said.
“You will certainly get your answer,” Tachi said. “I have never spoken to her, either. As much as there were times when I wanted to.”
Xiao curled his lips together. Were there ever moments when Tachi missed her? Or yearned to have a good relationship with her, like Xiao’s relationship with Zhongli? What if there were still a chance for them to patch things up? What if, because she didn’t know him in this timeline, Ei would be more receptive to forming a positive relationship with him?
“Are you tired yet?” Tachi asked. He sat up once more, brushing off his shoulders.
“A little,” Xiao said. He was always a little fatigued, at least lately. But he was not in the mood to go to sleep when there was still so much they could discuss.
“You need to get some rest. Tomorrow will be another long day,” Tachi said.
“I know,” Xiao said.
And yet he made no move to get up from his spot. Tachi stood, but when Xiao didn’t join him, he laughed.
“Let me guess, adepti don’t need rest,” Tachi said.
“It’s not that,” Xiao said. “I am just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About how you always seem to focus only on the negative sides of yourself when there are so many other sides that you have shown me,” Xiao said. “I suppose it has just taught me a few things about how I internalize my own self-image.”
“It’s a fact that you often insist on being a slaughterer,” Tachi said. “You seem to forget that you’re also Liyue’s guardian, which is a far cry from the negative connotation you keep associating yourself with.”
“I am a slaughterer first,” Xiao said.
Tachi sighed. “I think you’re right that we both need to work on that. What about this as a deal: You don’t call yourself a slaughterer anymore and I won’t call myself a murderer. We can work on improving our self-images together.”
Would that even help anything? Xiao wasn’t sure.
But if there was one thing he was certain of, he didn’t like it when Tachi put himself down. If there was a way to keep him from that behavior, then Xiao would do it, even if it meant changing some of his behavior, too.
“Deal,” Xiao said.
Tachi smiled. “Good. Now, are you getting up or not?”
Xiao considered it. Then he shifted his hand across the porch and attempted to stand. He’d been having plenty of trouble with maintaining equilibrium lately, which manifested itself then, too. His head spun just with his half-hearted attempt at getting up onto his feet.
Tachi extended his hand and Xiao did not hesitate to grab it while in the process of trying to stand a second time.
The second time worked. Xiao briefly squeezed Tachi’s hand then let go, averting his gaze again. He turned his eyes instead onto the two beds that Tachi had prepared. Tachi skipped over to his, hopping over Xiao’s bed to land on bare feet on the other side. He smiled and Xiao’s heart felt a little lighter.
He was back on his knees quickly enough, crawling onto the mattress on the floor. His weight sank into it and he exhaled a slow sigh. Tachi soon joined him in the other bed, peeling the blankets back to settle down with them pulled up to his chest.
Tachi looked at him from across the mat. As always, his eyes sparkled, even if his lips were set in a thin line.
“Where did you learn to play the flute?” Xiao whispered.
“I thought we were supposed to be sleeping?” Tachi grimaced. His expression cleared up rapidly, however, and he said, “Venti retaught me.”
“When?”
“After we had our argument outside Cloud Retainer’s abode.”
“You went to Mondstadt for me?”
“I’ve done a lot of things for you,” Tachi said.
Xiao’s cheeks warmed. That might be true, but he hadn’t considered how far that stretched.
“What was Mondstadt like?” Xiao asked.
“You realize how large a question that is, right?” Tachi asked.
“You always tell the most interesting stories,” Xiao said. “I want to hear another.”
“Of course you do,” Tachi said. “I will tell you. But in return, you have to promise to return the favor later.”
Xiao frowned. “I don’t have any interesting stories to share.”
“I don’t find any of my stories interesting, and yet you’re still enraptured in all of them,” Tachi said. “The mundane becomes interesting with you.”
Xiao’s eyes widened. “That’s my line.”
Tachi laughed lightly. “It seems we have that in common, too. Alright. I’ll tell you.”
His story about his trip to Mondstadt began with the ending of their confrontation at Cloud Retainer’s abode. Xiao closed his eyes and attempted to hang off Tachi’s words, but as soon as the spring air blew into their room and rested over his body, Xiao’s ears had already started closing themselves off to all sound aside from the typical voices in his head.
He still heard the gentle garble of Tachi’s voice, dipped into the usual whisper that smoothed over the harder edges of Xiao’s worsening pain. He was sure it was only because of Tachi that he was even capable of rest anymore.
Xiao vaguely remembered the feeling of turning onto his side, enveloped in warmth that brought a smile to his face.
Notes:
And I said, "There shall be more fluff!"
Re-reading it and I still am not... overly fond of how much dialog this is but I'm sure you will appreciate it! I hope! I DO also recall getting really embarrassed for Xiao and the whole scene of them drinking sake while he can't keep his eyes off those overly affectionate humans. Scandalous!
Thank you for reading <3
P.S. next time: Shogun?!?!
Chapter 28: From Whence Life First Bloomed
Summary:
Tachi and Xiao meet the Raiden Shogun.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was storming the day the kabukimono took the boat to Narukami Island to visit the Grand Narukami Shrine. It was daylight out but the storm choked out the sun, just like the furnace, shrouding everything in darkness.
He did not remember the lightning or thunder. He did not remember when they hit the beach nor the men who yelled at him to wait before running, barefoot, toward the shrine.
He only remembered his shouting and the hand that shook with fear and desperation as he yanked the gilded feather off from around his neck and squeezed it in his hand enough to bite into his artificial flesh.
There was a shrine maiden with hair bright and soft like the cherry blossom trees that cowered from the same raging weather that the kabukimono had to fight to be heard over.
He had been crying then. Proffering the emblem to the shrine maiden with uncontrolled urgency.
Please help! Please, Mother must help! People are dying!
It will be taken care of.
She had said it with an air of indifference but also a smile. The kabukimono, in his flurry of emotions, found himself incapable of reading the emotion. He felt no personal pain or anger from it, just a brief confusion and an even more profound hope that she was telling the truth.
He remembered standing there, staring at her as she twisted on her heel and strutted back inside, leaving him spiraling toward the pain-filled core inside of him. Where was their archon? Would she not come to help? Had he not done a good enough job of convincing? What made her turn her back on him so?
The kabukimono could only stand, his shoulders sagged, and squeeze the emblem between his fingertips once more as rain dripped into his eyes.
Tachi “woke” with the sun the next morning.
It would be more accurate to say that he had never gone to bed at all. Anticipation for this day had kept him up all night.
That, and the smile on Xiao’s lips. Tachi could not bring himself to sleep when there was time to be spent watching Xiao fall asleep to the sound of his voice.
What a strangely intimate privilege that Tachi would have exchanged for very few things.
As soon as Tachi could see the faded greenish tone of the tatami mats in the morning sunlight, he crawled out of his bed and stood to fold his bedding up and stow it away.
Afterward, he returned to the center of the bedroom and worked on getting dressed.
He had fallen asleep in his nagajuban last night. Why not just pile the rest of his outfit up on top of that? It had been a long time since he last wore a kimono in the traditional fashion. He was much more familiar with shorts that exposed knees, but as a special treat, he’d indulge in a bit of dressing up.
Tachi layered on a silk blue kimono and was working on tying the obi when Xiao rolled over in bed, revealing the faint purple mark on his cheek where he had been sleeping on his face overnight. Tachi paused, his hands working at a knot, when Xiao opened his eyes.
The kimono was finished. All that was left was the hakama; similar to shorts or a skirt, the long material went down to his feet. Very different from the usual freedom he gave his legs.
“Morning,” Tachi said. He paused to bend down and pick up the folded pair of hakama he had left on the floor. This pair had a pattern on it — white cranes on blue silk.
While Tachi was straightening back up with them in hand, Xiao shuffled across his bed and threw his arms around Tachi’s legs. He yanked Tachi closer and Tachi, not anticipating the gesture, widened his eyes and looked down.
Xiao hid his face in the folds of the kimono that dangled down around Tachi’s knees. Tachi was certain that if he had blood, his cheeks would be flushed red from it.
After overcoming the initial shock of the gesture, Tachi could do nothing but laugh. “I take it you rested well,” he said.
Xiao pulled away, his face bright with the color of blush.
“Yes,” he said.
“Let’s finish dressing now. We’ve got an important meeting today. I brought a hanfu with me that Menogias made for you a long time ago if you wish to wear it. Your choice. I’m just dressing up because I felt in the mood.”
“I will wear it,” Xiao said.
Tachi smiled. “Good.”
As he tied the hakama in place around his waist, Tachi lifted his hand and summoned a dagger of no small length to his hand. Xiao noticed and his lips slimmed into a frown.
“Just in case,” Tachi said with a toying smile as he slipped it into his obi.
Tachi and Xiao spent breakfast in neutral silence. Tachi only ate because he was sure Xiao didn’t want to and it seemed the best way to convince him that he needed to, too.
After breakfast, though, Xiao stared at Tachi with an inquisitive glint in his eyes.
They had been waiting for this moment long enough.
“Let’s go to the shrine,” Tachi said with an air of resignation as he rose to his feet and waited for Xiao to join him.
When they hit the stairs that led up to the shrine, Tachi felt like he’d been transported back in time— but not to his past life as the kabukimono. Instead, it was from when he’d last visited Inazuma as the Balladeer overseeing the production of delusions in a factory on the neighboring island.
Back then, Scaramouche had felt the same chilling tingle that now ran down Tachi’s spine. With each step, he was coming closer and closer to the past he had written off long ago.
I’ll never— I’ll never go back!
Well. So much for that.
Enough wasting time. They ought to be at the top of the stairs already.
When they hit the first landing, they had to pause a second so Xiao could gather his breath. Then they were back to it once more, passing bright-red archways and chatty birds.
The sky was clear. Nearby shrine maidens went about their work as usual, tending to the upkeep of the area with brooms clutched in their hands or walking from one place to the next in purposeful steps.
When they made it to the top of the stairs, Tachi chewed on the inside of his mouth.
He had never seen it in daylight before. The cherry blossom trees were so bright and the building so red against the blue sky.
Tachi approached the nearest shrine maiden and cleared his throat. She had been sweeping cherry blossom petals off the main path, pointing her broom toward the grass.
“Excuse me,” Tachi said. “I need to speak to Guuji Yae. Is she around?”
“Oh yes, she’s in the shrine at the moment. Let me go get her for you.”
Tachi tracked her as she crossed the courtyard, reached a door, and slid inside.
His skin felt like it was sparking all over. Tachi ran one hand over another, testing to see whether he could feel electro there, but all he found was the soft curve of his knuckles.
Whatever happened, he would compose himself.
When Tachi’s eyes grabbed on the first speck of pink fluff, he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. Yae Miko emerged from the building with a casual flourish of her hand in her hair. Her ears twitched just the slightest amount as her eyes fell on the pair.
This was a woman Tachi wanted so badly to hate but could bring himself to feel nothing but stoic indifference paired with a sprinkling of trepidation. Her amused smile, though genuine-looking enough, clearly belied some ulterior motive. She aligned herself with Ei, after all.
“Good morning,” she said as she drew closer. She stopped in front of them, a manicured nail reaching up to hold her chin. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Tachi opened his mouth to speak but it was Xiao whose words came first.
“I am Adeptus Xiao and I came seeking your help.”
“What do you need my help with?” Yae asked.
“I need to speak with the Raiden Shogun.”
Yae’s eyes widened. Her smile turned playful, drawing into one long, thin line. “I didn’t know people were allowed to just waltz in and ask so politely for audiences with our dearest electro archon. You don’t even look to be from Inazuma. What business do you have with her?”
“Those are questions for her to answer,” Xiao said.
Yae’s eyes turned onto Tachi. He resisted a shutter.
“And who are you? His attendant?” she asked.
As tactful as ever, Tachi saw.
He shook his head, reached for the feather dangling from his chest, and showed it to her. He could still feel the ring of thunder under his fingertips when she laid her eyes on it.
“Do you recognize this?” Tachi asked. “It’s the shogun’s symbol and I am in possession of it. Heed it, and bring her to us.”
Yae’s eyes slimmed down and she frowned. He was sure she was running the calculations in her mind. But, ultimately, she returned to a smile and said, “You’ve piqued my interest, so I shall heed your request— this time. Next time you might not be so lucky.”
Then she strutted away, delivering a message to a shrine maiden within earshot to set them up with a waiting room.
Tachi sat down with Xiao at his side and practiced his breathing exercises.
The room was silent, filled with nothing but tension and anticipation that presented itself as an impatient tap of Tachi’s fingers on his knee.
In just a few minutes, he would see her.
It was a good thing he did not have a heart because it would not be able to take this.
The door opened and Yae and the Raiden Shogun entered.
Tachi could not keep his eyes off hers.
Those were the eyes of a puppet. His kin. The perfected version of himself that he had been discarded in favor of.
What was this feeling stirring deep in his stomach? Disgust? Disappointment? He couldn’t tell. Mostly it felt like shock that her answer had been this. This was the competition he had been so envious of for five hundred years.
Yae and the Shogun sat down across from them, folding their knees beneath neatly tucked skirts. The Shogun wore the same passive frown on her lips through the whole ordeal while Yae plastered a serving smile on her own face.
“State the reason for your visit,” the Raiden Shogun said.
Tachi’s skin blistered at her words. So this was her voice. He could imagine how it might feel if she spoke gently, but right now, in the presence of her demands, he felt only disgust and rebellion.
How dare another puppet go bossing him around as if she had any right! Where did she, with that stoic expression and complete lack of any emotion, ever come off thinking she had the jurisdiction to be a god to humans?
A light went off inside Tachi’s mind. To serve as only a creature capable of taking commands from a higher power within you suddenly did not seem as godly and blissful the experience he thought it was. Just look at how she frowned. Love would always be much better.
“You have something I want, and I intend to do whatever I need to get it,” Tachi said.
As he predicted, the Shogun made little indication that she had even heard his voice. Although he knew it was the puppet he was speaking to and not the archon herself, Tachi struggled to feel a difference when both of them ignored him in the same way.
She was failing him. Again.
“And what do you want?” the Shogun asked, squinting.
“I want to speak to Ei.”
“Forbidden.”
Tachi’s nostrils flared. He forced a smile. “I apologize if I made it seem that you had a choice in the matter,” he said. “I will speak to her. You will not keep her from me.”
“She is not accepting visitors right now,” the Shogun said.
“That’s too bad,” Tachi said. From beneath the table, his hand slid into the belt around his waist and gripped the handle of his knife. “She would find what I have to say very interesting.”
The Shogun opened her mouth—
—And Tachi lunged across the table, his open hand outstretched for the Shogun’s throat. His fingertips only managed to graze her fair skin before she’d reached for his wrist and shoved the arm away.
Tachi fell onto the table, his body hitting it with a dull thud. Xiao shouted as Tachi rolled off and broke free from her grip, raising the hand that gripped the knife.
She was fast, but he had his smaller stature and anemo on his side. He needed the back of her neck. If some reckless maneuvers were in order, then so be it.
Tachi threw himself once more at her, and this time, he did it with enough force to knock her to the ground. Her eyes widened, her mouth open in shock, as Tachi grabbed her arm with the intent of forcing her onto her stomach.
“What are—” she started, grunting, as Tachi pushed ever forward, bringing the blade up to the nape of her neck.
The electro insignia glowed when Tachi pressed the sharp end of the blade against it. He did not hesitate to drive it in, relishing in her scream before she once more grabbed his wrist. A pulse of electro reverberated through the room, Tachi keeping his eyes on the figure below him.
This time, Tachi felt her squeeze with enough pressure to break a human’s wrist.
“Enough,” she said, her tone even colder and sharper than it had been before.
Her eyes flickered with electro as she released his grip and he backed away.
Ei pushed herself onto her feet and adjusted the robes around her neck where Tachi had unsettled them. He straightened his spine too, darting his eyes just once to the table. Xiao’s golden eyes flickered with apprehension. Yae Miko just looked amused.
“What do you want?” Ei asked.
“I want to have an audience with you in private,” Tachi said.
“And you think I will grant it?”
“Do you have a reason to say no?” Tachi asked. “I heard that you had changed. Or are you still the same careless god I remember? Can’t even spare a conversation with her own people?”
“I do not make time for those who get what they want through brute force,” she said.
“I had no other choice. It’s the only way people can get you to listen.”
A scowl did not befit her posture, and she seemed to know this. Despite what must have been a very strong urge, Ei resisted it and kept her expression neutral. “That is only how you see things. It must be quite the urgent situation if you’re willing to launch yourself into mortal peril just for a chance to obtain an audience with me.”
“That’s exactly right.”
“Then I have made up my mind. I will grant you the audience you seek.”
“I knew you’d see my side of things,” Tachi said.
Ei spared one look in Yae Miko’s direction then gestured to a door on the other side of the room. Yae didn’t say anything but the faintest flicker of her ears gave her away.
Tachi stood, shoved the knife back into his waistband, and spared one glance down at Xiao. He felt the temptation to drop some dry or witty remark to cheer him up, but it’s not like such a comment would make a difference to Xiao anyway.
“I’ll be back soon,” Tachi muttered instead, then took his leave to the other room.
Two cushions awaited them in the abutting room. Ei took one and sat down with her hands on her knees. Tachi mimicked the gesture, taking the other.
She did not say anything right away. Instead, she let the tension simmer between them, the room heavy with the sparking of electro and unblinking stares.
Ever since this morning, the Balladeer side of Tachi’s past had bubbled back up to the surface like tar in a tar pit. More and more of it kept coming, consuming his thoughts with the old stratagems he used to play when bored in the Zapolyarny Palace. He knew exactly what he needed to do and how he needed to do it to make her talk. He did not care for pleasantries or small talk. He had restored the sharpness of his edges just for her.
When Ei spoke, Tachi reveled in her words. So many different directions this conversation could take and it all hinged on his decision.
“Who are you?” she asked.
That was the easy question. Tachi had already recited his answer for that one.
“I have spent the last five hundred years working toward finding my own name and will not squander that time by allowing it to be contaminated by your ears. So, just refer to me as the ‘nameless puppet.’ That is the most accurate anyway.”
“A puppet?” she repeated. “But you are not…”
“Oh no, you’re confused,” Tachi said, his tone shifting to one of mock pity. “Allow me to clear things up a little. You created me as the proof of concept for the puppet you use today. The reason you don’t remember this fact, however, is because I have erased myself from Irminsul’s records. There are no traces of my past anywhere but in a select few people’s memories. And you are not one of those people.”
“Show me the proof,” she said, her eyes drawing into a squint.
Tachi smiled. “Gladly.”
He produced the feather she had made for him and dangled it in front of his face. It swayed back and forth from the slight shift of his fingers.
“This is the amulet you gave to me when you abandoned me in Shakkei Pavilion. I proffered it once to the shrine maiden when I begged for help with the Mikage Furnace, but your men were too late. Innocent people died. The event left scars that will stay with me for the rest of my artificial life.”
“And that is all you have?” Ei asked.
Tachi’s eyes widened. “Oh, of course not. I could spend hours meticulously recounting to you the events of my early life but you would not remember any of it. As I understand things, you have been holed up in the Plane of Euthymia that whole time anyway. Oh, but I will show you this.”
He produced the branch of Irminsul that Nahida had given him. He dropped the feather back down against his chest, running his fingers over the branch instead.
“This is a branch from the tree of Irminsul, the same material you used to create me. I spoke to Lesser Lord Kusanali myself about this, and she confirmed that you had gone to Sumeru for some of the wood to create the current Raiden Shogun out of.
“But that is not the only reason I’m showing you this. This was recently gifted to me by Nahida on my second birthday. It’s proof of the distance I have made apart from you and the erasure that changed the course of history forever.
“What you did was a reprehensible act that never should have been permitted, but it’s not like humans— or even puppets— to go against their masters. I took responsibility for my actions and restored the memories that had led me to erase myself the first time while everyone else was blessed with ignorance.
“Do you not see the problem here? You brought me into this world but you never took any responsibility for what happened afterward. I nearly single-handedly destroyed the Raiden Gokaden while you were off preparing to leave the country for thousands of years of meditation. Did you never stop to consider that Inazuma would move on without you? Mondstadt had forgotten about its god before. It is not so unthinkable that the same could happen to Inazuma.”
“That was never going to happen,” Ei said. “The Raiden Shogun—”
“Is nothing but a pawn who is only as sharp-witted as its puppeteer, who had been asleep on the stage the whole time,” Tachi said. “I heard about what happened with the Vision Hunt Decree. Every day I am a little more grateful that I am helper to the god of wisdom and not eternity.”
“How dare you say such blasphemous things! And to the face of your own god? Have you no shame?” Ei asked.
Tachi grinned. “I really don’t, no.”
“And you are expecting me to help you,” Ei said. “After all of the ill will you feel toward me. You have no shred of respect left for me, despite claiming I was your creator.”
“Yes, and that is ultimately all your fault,” Tachi said. “I’m sure the Raiden Shogun would feel similar sentiments if she had emotions to speak of. Perhaps fortunately, in her case, she doesn’t.”
“I presume you expect me to go along with this because you are owed something from me.”
“Exactly,” Tachi said.
“What do you want?”
“The specifications you used to create me.”
“I do not remember those,” Ei said. “It was so long ago. And anyway, it was Yae who first taught me those techniques in the first place.”
“Oh good, so talking to you was a complete waste of both of our times.”
“It does not have to be the wasted time you think it is,” Ei said. “There is still so much you have not explained about yourself. So you lived in Tatarasuna? But you are the Lesser Lord Kusanali’s helper?”
“You’re inquiring about matters you have no interest in,” Tachi said. “Why keep up the charade by pretending you care? Just be honest. In the past, you were an absentee god and parent. And this timeline is no different. I don’t see what trying to get involved in my history now would solve.”
“If what you say is true and you really did erase yourself from Irminsul, then yes, I have no recollection of you. But that does not mean that it has to stay that way. You say you have taken responsibility for your actions and I should mine.”
This is not what he had anticipated. Why did gods always have to make things about them? About keeping their noses clean, no matter who they had to step on to make that happen?
“Keep your nose out of my business,” Tachi snapped. “What is done is done. The incident at Mikage Furnace is old history, along with the rest of my past. I didn’t come here to dredge up more useless emotions about it all. I came here for information, which you don’t have, and now I’m leaving.”
And yet, he did not move an inch.
He blamed it on self-destructive curiosity. He had never spoken to her before. He wanted to see just how cold-hearted and cruel she was up close. Was she every bit the villain he had made her out to be? Or was Nahida right?
As Nahida had said, I think you should still give her a chance. There’s a chance that if you explained everything to her, she could help you.
“I want to know why you want the specifications,” Ei said. “That is all. Tell me that, and I will permit Yae Miko to give them to you.”
Tachi’s veins ran cold. She presented no apologies, but also no selfish rambling about herself and her miserable circumstances. As far as the Shogun went, this could be interpreted as a pretty middle-of-the ground approach.
“I need them for my friend. He is ill and dying.”
“Who is he?” Ei asked.
Tachi’s lips screwed down. The conversation had steered away from him, but that was just as well. Speaking of Xiao was more comfortable, even welcome, although Tachi once again had the thought that she didn’t deserve to know such details about his life.
“His name is Xiao,” Tachi said.
Xiao stared as Tachi rose to his feet and followed the electro archon out of the room.
As soon as the door closed, Xiao turned his eyes onto the wooden table in front of him. Yae Miko cleared her throat, drawing his eyes to hers.
“So, what is his story?” Yae asked.
Xiao frowned. He didn’t say anything, considering what he ought to tell her.
“What? Just because your friend and Ei are off having their own private conversation doesn’t mean we can’t have our own.”
“I don’t really have anything to say to you,” Xiao said.
“Oh?” Yae asked. “And why is that? Are you perhaps wary of me? Despite appearances, I assure you I’m not malicious in the slightest.”
“I wasn’t thinking that,” Xiao said. “I’m just trying to respect my friend’s wishes.”
“You’re very polite considering how brash that friend of yours is.”
“He has been through a lot.”
“You could say that about practically anybody,” she said.
She had a point.
Conversation with this woman was so fast and to-the-point. Xiao could appreciate that.
“Would you say that Ei is a good person?” Xiao asked.
Yae hummed. She brought a hand up to her chin and stroked it. “I wouldn’t call her good or bad. She has good intentions, but she’s a little… misguided.”
“I assumed that was the case,” Xiao said.
“Where does your friend know her from?” Yae asked.
“She created him, although nobody remembers that,” Xiao said. “He erased himself from Irminsul.”
“Ohhhhh,” she said. The sound was light and long, like someone who had finally come to understand a great mystery. That illusion, however, quickly vanished when she said, “Now why would he do that?”
Was she playing dumb or did she really mean it? But if she did not understand Tachi’s history, then maybe she really didn’t understand why he would do that.
“It’s complicated,” Xiao said. “After she discarded him, many things happened.”
That was an understatement. But he wasn’t sure how else to phrase it given he had never had to explain Tachiyaku to someone else before.
“Discarded, you say?” Yae asked. “Very interesting.”
Xiao didn’t say anything else. What else was there to say?
“So your friend is a puppet just like the Raiden Shogun,” Yae said. “Do I have that right?”
Xiao nodded.
“And Ei had discarded him in the past. Presumably because he was a defect.”
“He is not defected,” Xiao said. “He’s just too human.”
“Ahhh,” Yae hummed. “I see. So he was Ei’s first attempt at creating a puppet. And what one might consider a ‘failure’ is just a success from a different perspective.”
“Tachi despises Ei for everything she did to him,” Xiao said. “I wish for them to have an amicable relationship but it just doesn’t seem possible. He stalwartly refuses to feel anything but hatred for her.”
“Maybe there is a chance for them yet,” Yae said. “Ei is turning over a new leaf, after all. Her perspective on eternity is changing, little by little. Given some time, I’m sure that she’ll come around.”
Come around to what? Tachi didn’t want to have a relationship with her anyway. It was either now or never. Would there really be much of a relationship to salvage after today? Should there be?
“Are you curious to hear how their conversation is going?” Yae asked. “They could have knives up to each other’s throats by this point.”
Xiao scoffed. He hadn’t been expecting Tachi to pull his knife on the Shogun, that much was true, but he didn’t peg Tachi as the sort to resort to violence just for the fun of it.
“I trust his judgment,” Xiao said.
“But you’re still curious,” Yae said.
Xiao sighed. It was true.
Yae stood and took a few steps toward the door that Tachi and Ei had disappeared behind. Then she went left, toward the abutting room, and gestured for Xiao to follow.
Xiao hesitated. Then he stood and followed.
Yae slid the door open and stepped inside. Immediately Xiao could hear the voices filtering in from the other side of the wall.
“Who is he?”
The voice of the electro archon was curious. Not steeped in any of the venom that Tachi’s voice was when he spoke about her.
“His name is Xiao.”
Xiao’s blood ran cold at the mention of his name. Yae Miko knelt down against the wall and gave him a mischievous grin. He followed, sitting down next to her.
“You have him to thank for this. And my own idiocy, I suppose,” Tachi’s voice said.
“You came back for him?” Ei asked.
“That’s right. He’s the only reason. You ought to be grateful. I would not have even a sliver of the compassion I have now if I had never met him.”
“Why do you want to create another puppet? Do you want to replicate what I have done with the Raiden Shogun?”
“Oh, archons no,” Tachi said. “I’d never wish that existence upon anybody. He’s tainted by karmic debt that’s slowly killing him and I’m at least partially to blame for that. I’m just looking to set things right by creating a vessel for him to store the debt so it doesn’t hurt him anymore.”
“I see.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, I do,” Ei said. “I see that despite the hardships of your past, you have still found something to hold onto to drive you forward. Whatever happened then, I am sorry. But I am glad to hear that it wasn’t for naught.”
Tachi started to laugh. Xiao did not need to have his ear pressed up against the wall to hear it. It was sharp and unrelenting, bubbling out of his throat and popping in the static of electro-filled air.
“‘Wasn’t for naught,’ you say… And an apology… it’s all too perfect. You just get to tie this all up in a little bow and put it behind you. But those scars on my back aren’t as easy to get rid of.”
“Is there something more I am supposed to do?”
“Tell me you’re satisfied with my answers and won’t be asking any more questions.”
“I want to understand you better. I did wrong by you. It is an archon’s duty to take responsibility for their actions.”
Tachi muttered a curse under his breath. “I’m tired; just leave me alone. I’m not interested in any more than what I demanded initially.”
“I understand.”
“Pst!”
Xiao turned to find Yae Miko pointing back to the main room. Xiao nodded and followed her back to their seats.
He sat down across from her, training his eyes on the door that Tachi and Ei had slid behind.
In just a few seconds, the door opened again. Yae Miko smiled and shot to her feet as if she hadn’t just sat down.
“I trust you had an enlightening conversation?” she asked.
“Yae, do you remember the instructions on how to create a puppet?” Ei asked.
“Of course I do. I have a perfect memory, after all,” Yae Miko said. “I am assuming written notes would be sufficient? I’m afraid I don’t have the materials for it, though.”
“Whatever works. I just need the information.”
Miss Yae reached into her sleeve and pulled out a wrapped-up piece of parchment. She extended the scroll to Tachi, poking it into his chest. “Here.”
Xiao rose to his feet and approached as Tachi untied the ribbon holding the scroll together and stretched it out. Xiao saw only a singular flash of a humanoid figure etched onto a piece of parchment before Tachi closed it back up.
“Where did you get this?” he asked.
“There was a man from Fontaine who helped out with the logistics,” Yae Miko said.
“A man from Fontaine,” Tachi repeated.
“Yes. Is there something funny about that?”
Tachi slid the scroll into his sleeve and shook his head. “No.”
“I still insist that, despite circumstances being what they are, you have my gratitude for showing your face again today,” Ei said.
“Have a good rest of your day. Or don’t, I don’t care. Xiao, let’s head out.”
“Thank you,” Xiao said.
His eyes lingered on Yae Miko and Ei a second longer as Tachi turned on his heel and walked toward the exit. Then Xiao turned to follow him, strutting to keep in step with him.
The sun was still fresh in the sky when they exited the building and walked across the clearing in front of the shrine. A large sakura tree bloomed behind them, shedding its pink pedals as the wind blew by.
“Let’s get back to the inn,” Tachi said. “I’ve got some thinking to do.”
What had he seen on that blueprint to make his eyes go as wide as they did? Xiao supposed he would find out in due time.
Disgusting.
All of it was disgusting.
His behavior, her behavior, his reward…
Tachi had gotten what he wanted, but at what cost? Why did it only make him feel all the emptier and more despicable a creature?
Ei had apologized, the expression as sincere as it could get for one whose face had forgotten how to smile, and yet she might as well have said nothing. The words had phased right through him.
It was never good enough. Whatever he wanted, whatever he needed, there was always one more thing waiting on another crest beyond the hill he’d just finished climbing. If only he had heard those words from his Ei, the one who had actually done those things to him, then maybe the apology would feel right.
Or perhaps it was always bound to feel this way. Every Ei, across every instance of every timeline, would have done things exactly the same had fate not intervened. Her apology was just as valid as any other form of it. And thus, it would always feel just as disappointing.
He had not even come for an apology and that was why it left him feeling so disarmed. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to give her this chance just to destroy him again. He had long ago begun to think that her praise, trust, and love were unachievable things. To actually have a chance at having them was worse than knowing for certain that you couldn’t.
Xiao knocked his hand into Tachi’s once during the course of their walk to the inn. Tachi spared a glance in his direction and soaked in his large, gilded eyes. When they had first met, Tachi had admired Xiao’s sense of control and his calm demeanor. Or what had felt calm, anyway, although Tachi knew now that his silence was not equatable to calmness.
Still, he didn’t look worried. He never looked worried. He just looked gorgeous, the deep jade hair unsullied by ocean water or bad weather, the hanfu done up perfectly to rival that of a god’s dresswear. He didn’t look like someone dying to karmic debt despite the faint glistening of black energy that coated his body.
When they entered the inn and walked down the hall to their room, Tachi still said nothing. It was not until they were in their room alone that Tachi pulled the scroll out of his sleeve and tossed it as hard as he could onto the ground. It bounced then settled in the center of a tatami mat.
His nose burned. He glared at the offending scroll, wishing it would burst into flames and solve his problems simultaneously. Instead, it just lay there, mocking him.
“What’s wrong?” Xiao asked.
Tachi felt Xiao tap him on the side of his arm. The gesture was quick, hesitant; the weight of Xiao’s hand disappeared before Tachi had enough time to savor it.
“I’m fine,” Tachi said. “I just need some time to think.”
His discussion with Ei and even Yae Miko’s presence had left large imprints on his mind. Larger still was that scroll, littered with handwriting Tachi was all too familiar with and wished he wasn’t.
To see the doctor’s marks in such a place felt just like his hands emerging from thin air to once again poke into the intricate wiring of Tachi’s mind. When Tachi saw Dottore’s handwriting, he thought he had managed well in keeping his expression controlled then and to some extent now, but that strongly guarded wall finally crumbled away before he could build it back up again.
He had spent so long keeping such a tight grip on his emotions that now it felt suffocating to try and keep anything bottled inside. The reflex was gone. Just let it out, Nahida would say, armed with a kettle of bitter tea and a soothing smile.
Thinking of her now made him feel even more that he was doing everything wrong.
Tachi felt the first tear slide down his cheek and made no attempt to hide it.
“You’re crying,” Xiao said.
“No, I’m not,” Tachi said.
This is where Nahida would come in again to remind him to allow yourself to feel every emotion, even the negative ones, or some such thing.
Xiao looked like he wanted to do or at least say something, but he only stood, his eyebrows furrowed, as Tachi wiped the tear from his face. He leaned forward and pulled Xiao into a hug knowing Xiao wanted it as much as Tachi did.
He smelled like qingxin flowers. Clear, pure, and soft. He curled his arms around Tachi and squeezed.
It hurt. Everything still hurt. After all this time, it still managed to get under his skin like this.
Tachi didn’t want to let go. If they stayed like this forever, then certainly the pain would pass, replaced by the slow exhalation and intake of Xiao’s breath.
When Tachi pulled away a few seconds later, Xiao stared at him with those bright eyes and dark lashes, looking, as he often did, that he was trying to stay composed as possible amid embarrassment. Tachi had considered telling him how cute he looked, although it never seemed to be the right moment to test Xiao’s reaction.
“What happened?” Xiao asked.
“I’m not in the mood to talk about it,” Tachi said. “I need a little more time to think.”
“I understand,” Xiao said. “You should get some rest. You haven’t slept in days.”
“I—” Tachi paused. “I think you’re right.”
There he went, once more preparing to insist that he didn’t need rest when he remembered that Xiao was just trying to help. And it was true that although he wasn’t physically exhausted, he certainly felt so mentally. Even— even emotionally.
“I’m going to get some rest,” Tachi said. “Do you mind giving me some time to myself?”
“Not at all,” Xiao said. “I actually have plans to talk to Heizou.”
“You do.” Tachi’s eyes widened. Now, why was that the case? Oh wait, but Tachi had a hunch why. Well. So long as he felt good enough to be walking around. “Go ahead without me. We can talk again later.”
Xiao nodded. He hesitated a second, casting Tachi another worried look, before turning on his heel and walking back toward the door.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading!!! It's gonna get hot as fuck here for the rest of the week so I was waylaid trying to heat-proof my tiny-ass apartment (That does NOT have an AC 😭 YES I will be drinking lots of water!).
Comments and kudos are appreciated as always! I'm super grateful to y'all who comment every time and bring me such joy! 💕 You make it much easier to keep my writing flame alive.
Chapter 29: My Labor of Love
Summary:
Xiao, Heizou, and Kazuha bond over naku weed.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Xiao’s first stop was at the inn’s front desk to ask the receptionist for directions to the Tenryou Commission. He remembered that Kazuha had mentioned it during his moment of lavishing praise upon his partner, whom Xiao wanted to see.
The headquarters for the Tenryou Commission was actually just down the street from where they were staying. When Xiao arrived, several men in armor chatted as they walked by him and out the door.
The Tenryou Commission headquarters was just one large room with purple banners stamped with an insignia Xiao had never seen before hanging from the walls. Several people stood clustered in the center of the room talking among each other.
When Xiao entered, their heads lifted.
One person put on a smile and said, “Welcome in. What can we help you with?”
“Is Shikanoin Heizou here?” Xiao asked.
The person paused. They lifted their head and looked him up and down. “Have another impossible case that needs solving, hm? Yes, he’s in. Follow me; he should be just outside.”
They broke from the rest of the group and approached Xiao. They slipped past him, opened the door, and gestured for Xiao to follow him.
A minute later, Xiao’s guide brought him around to the back courtyard, where Heizou was standing underneath a cherry blossom tree speaking to another person.
When Heizou turned, his eyes lit up. He looked much too overjoyed to see someone who could barely be considered an acquaintance.
“Xiao! It’s so great to see you again. And why might you be here? Oh, let me guess. You got stood up at a wedding.”
“No,” Xiao said. Did it really look that way?
“I was only kidding. Although you are dressed quite auspiciously,” Heizou said. “You went to speak to the Shogun, right?” He paused, turning his head back toward his coworkers. “Tell Kujo Sara-san I’ll be back later.”
“But Heizou—”
“Don’t worry, there’s no pressing matters that need my attention right now,” he said with a flippant wave of his hand. He strutted back around the other side of the building with Xiao following on his heels.
“Let’s take a few more paces that way,” Heizou said. “It’s not the best look to be sneaking away while on work hours, but my intuition tells me you have something important to say.”
“We spoke to the Raiden Shogun, but Tachi is…” Xiao paused. What was the right word? “He is not feeling very well.”
“Did he fall ill?” Heizou asked.
Xiao shook his head. “It’s not that kind of illness. It cannot be seen.”
“Ah, I see,” Heizou said. “So he needs a little mental remedy.”
“I don’t know what to do,” Xiao said. “I have never had to console someone before.”
“Well, what are some of his interests?”
“He likes sewing, reading, cooking…”
“You could cook him something.”
“I do not like cooking.”
“Then consider it a labor of love.”
“Labor of… what?” Xiao asked.
“It’s work you do for the sake of someone else’s benefit, usually someone you care a lot about,” Heizou said. “Like cleaning someone’s dirty laundry for them or making their bed for them in the morning.”
Xiao’s cheeks grew hot again. Now that he thought about it, Tachi did all of those mundane chores Xiao was not interested in. How could he have allowed himself to slack off so entirely? He ought to do something in return to show his appreciation. Maybe a dish was the answer.
“I would like to cook him something,” Xiao said.
“Great. Now we just need to settle on a dish. What are some of his favorites?”
“I don’t know,” Xiao said. “He said he likes bitter things and things with interesting flavors.”
“Kazuha has some recipes like that,” Heizou said. He reached up, stroking his chin as he thought. “We could ask him.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Heizou repeated. His lips twisted into a playful smile. “You don’t want to see him?”
“No, it’s nothing,” Xiao said.
Put them together again and they would resort right back to the way they were behaving yesterday. How much did Xiao want to contend with that? Especially when Tachi wasn’t here to behave as his buffer?
“Kazuha might still be asleep. He was out late last night wandering. Let’s get back to my house and see if he’s still around,” Heizou said.
“We are going to your house?” Xiao asked.
“Yes. Where else would we go to cook?” Heizou said. “I think a kitchen is preferred over a campfire in the wilderness. And provides much better protection against the elements, too.”
“You are right.”
“I’m glad you see it that way,” Heizou said with a smile.
Heizou’s house was gratefully away from the main houses and bustle of human activity. It had the same jade-colored roof and wooden walls Xiao had seen inside the city. When Heizou approached, he was grinning from ear-to-ear.
He unlocked the front door from a key he pulled out of his pocket then gestured Xiao inside.
Xiao entered.
He first noticed that there were a lot of papers on the low table in the living area. In the kitchen, Xiao noticed an even taller stack of papers on the counter alongside a bowl of fruit. Along the wall hung sacks full of different foods and tools used for cooking. Xiao had not been in another person's house in quite some time, as the only one in recent memory was Zhongli's. He couldn’t remember if he had ever been in another human’s house before unless he counted Traveler’s teapot.
Xiao lingered by the doorway until Heizou entered and closed the door behind him.
"Kazu, I'm back! I brought Xiao with me."
It took until Heizou walked inside and started arranging the books and loose paper into stacks that Xiao noticed the bookshelves lining the wall, too.
Kazuha emerged from an adjacent hallway without the maple-leaved kimono he kept half-worn. Instead, it was just the white nagajuban underneath.
"Good morning," Kazuha mumbled, rubbing his eyes. When he opened them again, they fell on Xiao. "Where is Tachi?"
“He is resting,” Xiao said.
“Xiao and I are working on the mysterious case of the sad puppet,” Heizou said. “Maybe you could be of some assistance?”
“Oh?” Kazuha asked. His lips formed a smile. “And how may I help?”
“We were thinking of serving him a dish,” Heizou said. “Something to rouse his spirit. Xiao said he likes dishes with bitter and unique flavors, and you came to mind.”
“Ah, I see. So you want to cook him something,” Kazuha said. “But did you really need my help with this? You already know plenty of delicious dishes, Heizou.”
“But they’re all savory. Deep-fried and the like,” Heizou said. “Something tells me he won’t have the same appreciation for such a flavor. I was thinking more along the line of something very… unique.”
“Ohh, I understand. What about something with naku weed?”
Heizou laughed but Xiao just cocked his head to the side. What was so funny?
“Let me explain,” Heizou said. He turned to Xiao and gestured. “Naku weed is a plant that grows natively here. It’s usually used for medicinal purposes but you can also use it for its paralyzing effect in darts and the like. They grow in areas with high electro concentration, like Kannazuka Island, which just so happens to be where Tatarasuna is located.”
“Would anyone really want to consume such a thing?” Xiao asked.
“It’s very versatile,” Kazuha said. “When handled properly, you can create a harmless extract that’s used for… other purposes. I’ve never thought to put it into a dish before but if we manage to create the aforementioned extract, I don’t see why we couldn’t.”
As far as Xiao was concerned, food was just food. He had put many things in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed before without ever thinking much about the thing’s taste or texture. It was true that some things, like the glutinous rice balls and tofu that Mochou made him, tasted better than others, but he didn’t care much about the taste. It really only mattered that it kept his body fueled.
But this weed was intriguing. Not just for the interesting features Kazuha had mentioned but because it was on Tatarasuna. This was his perfect opportunity to see what Tachi’s old home looked like.
“I am interested,” Xiao said. “Could you show me this island?”
“Sure,” Kazuha said. “But if you don’t mind, I'd like to grab some breakfast first. I’m quite starving.”
“You haven’t eaten breakfast yet either, right?” Heizou asked. “Come sit down. I’ll cook something up.”
Kazuha excused himself shortly afterward to get properly dressed while Xiao drew up to the table in the living room and sat down on one of the cushions. He didn’t feel the same weight of dread upon him as he had when traveling on the Alcor but he was far from what he’d consider “healthy,” as evidenced by the creak in his hips when he folded his legs and the dull thud of a headache around his forehead. His ears, as predicted, twitched at every sound coming from the kitchen.
Xiao had long ago grown accustomed to the screams in his head but without fighting to ease them even a little, they were getting louder each day. Always in moments of downtime would they come in fuller force, inviting every manner of intrusive thought.
If only he did not have to live with it.
Xiao had never considered living without his condition but lately he’d begun to hope that things could be different. Hope was a dangerous thing. It invited the possiblity of change and improvement.
“Improvement.” Now that was a word he had not mulled over much but provided so many avenues for more thought. Improving his self-image, his health, and even his relationships.
He felt like he was improving…
An egg crackled from a skillet. Heizou hummed. The room filled with the scent of spices and Xiao’s stomach grumbled.
Kazuha returned and sat down across from him.
“How did your visit with the Shogun go?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Xiao said.
“Hm?”
“Tachi knows something but he’s not ready to tell me yet.”
“It must have shaken him quite a bit then,” Kazuha said. “I hope he feels better soon.”
Xiao sighed and lowered his eyes onto the table.
“Chin up,” Heizou said. “We’ll be going to Tatarsuna soon. You’re going to love it!”
Love it? Now Xiao wasn’t sure about that.
His stomach grumbled again and he reached down, clutching his stomach with a hand. His clothing was silk underneath his fingertips. Despite already eating what Tachi had made him this morning, his body seemed to be consuming energy faster than before and his high metabolism only made things worse.
Kazuha smiled. “Don’t worry, breakfast will be ready soon.”
Over breakfast, Xiao ate in silence while Heizou and Kazuha exchanged some small talk. Is this what life was supposed to be like? Just discussions about the change of the weather and that the laundry would need to be put out in the afternoon?
There was no denying that a part of Xiao longed for this with Tachi. Heizou and Kazuha lived in a place that was theirs, every day spent in serenity, their greatest concern what they were going to have for dinner. They could sleep in, hold hands, and do all sorts of other things just because it made them happy.
Mundane life wasn’t so bad but that didn’t make it any more achievable for him.
After breakfast, Kazuha and Heizou made plans for them to travel to Kannazuka Island. A boat would be required to get there from Inazuma City but that was arranged easily enough, and the ride itself presented no major obstacles aside from some detritus in the water and a spot or two where the boat almost became beached on lower tides.
Xiao brought his spear with him despite assurances that that was unnecessary and that Heizou and Kazuha could dispatch any adversaries they might encounter. But without Tachi here, Xiao still had to defend himself. He was, after all, a yaksha of habit.
Arriving on Kannazuka Island was different than he had anticipated. They had arrived on the southeast side, where just a small walk from the rock formation they had landed near led to a path lined by fencing on both sides.
From initial appearances, this looked just like any other place. It was not until they made their way up the path that the landscape started to change. To Xiao’s left was the tall rockface blocking off the rest of the path as it curved around its edge. When they turned the corner, Xiao’s eyes widened.
Past the shadow of the giant stone archway floated a rock populated with houses and humans. The surface glowed in bright greens and vegetation but Xiao still felt the shock of electro on his tongue just as he had when they met Ei this morning. Bridges from all directions led to the center of the floating rock, the planks swaying by a mere gust. Xiao frowned.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Heizou asked. “The people here stake their whole livelihood on the Mikage Furnace and in fact do a lot of mining underground, hence the rails.”
He gestured beneath their feet, where there were in fact rails for a cart to roll on. Xiao mindfully stepped off them.
“I am sure the people of Tatarasuna won’t mind if we pay them a visit and do some weeding,” Kazuha said.
He took the lead on entering the village and Xiao followed closely behind with Heizou taking up the rear.
Xiao spent very little time during the trip tuning into the present moment. He paid more attention to the past and his questions regarding it. What had Tachi’s name been then? Where had he lived and worked? After hundreds of years of change and strife, did those places exist anymore? Had the village of Tatarasuna been floating like this by the time Tachi joined their ranks?
Knowing that some of the questions would never have full answers did not bother him, although it predictably came with some disappointment. None of the people here, in the present or past, would ever know what Tachi had done to them. They would never know how much he loved them and how much they had taught him, but by that same logic, they would live in ignorance of the pain and devastation that his presence had led to.
It was important to acknowledge that it was not Tachi’s presence alone that had caused the devastation. It had been the person who took his kindness for granted, who exploited him, that this had happened.
They had made it to the top of the village, Kazuha already boasting a bouquet of plucked naku weeds in his hand, when Xiao took another glance at the village below. Oh, how he ached at it all. If Tachi’s first-ever stint of his life had been anything like the amnesia-filled wanderer Xiao had met, then the people of Tatarasuna had truly missed out on remembering someone special.
The thought of Mochou had hurt for a long time. But knowing what Xiao knew now about Tachi’s past before his erasure using Irminsul, Xiao was grateful all the more that they had met.
“You had mentioned before that Tachi used to live here, yes?” Kazuha asked.
Xiao turned toward him. Kazuha sat down in the grass, dangling his legs over the edge of the stone. Heizou joined his side and Xiao, presented with no other choice, took the other.
“Yes,” Xiao said.
“When I asked his feelings about being back in Inazuma, he told me he held no nostalgia for it,” Kazuha said. “But I believe he’s just shielding his emotions. If you do not want something to hurt you, you close your heart off from it.”
“That’s to be expected,” Xiao said. “This place holds a lot of complex emotions for him.”
And he had done similar before. They were, as Tachi had said once, similar in many ways.
“It has been a long time and Tachi has a long life. He does not need to exhaust everything on getting reacquainted with the present Inazuma right away,” Xiao said. “He only came back for me. He doesn’t see this trip as personal.”
“Everything naturally becomes personal when it comes to your home,” Heizou said.
Xiao hummed. His thoughts drifted back to what he and Tachi had spoken about before. The time of the adepti is waning.
A person off in the distance laughed. Children ran past, their shoes thumping across a wooden walkway and onto a bridge to a different portion of the village. Xiao watched in silence, playing with a naku weed in the grass beside him.
“Tatarasuna only recently returned to the lively way you see it today,” Heizou said. “Before, the Mikage Furnace had become corrupted and all the residents had to evacuate. It was only about three or four years ago that Traveler came by and set things right again. It could have blown up had they not intervened.”
“So Traveler has been involved in this, too,” Xiao said.
“For someone only seeking to find their sibling, they have been everywhere, haven’t they?” Kazuha asked. “And I heard that they’re planning to go to Snezhnaya next.”
“That can’t possibly be good,” Heizou said. “So things have indeed gotten more dire, just as I predicted…”
“What’s happening?” Xiao asked.
“The Fatui have been collecting the gnoses of the seven nations,” Kazuha said. “Paimon mentioned this fact to me once but Traveler and Paimon didn’t dwell on it long. If they’re heading to Snezhnaya, that can only mean that their plot has advanced.”
“Maybe Tachi knows something,” Xiao said.
“He has a connection to the Fatui?” Heizou asked. “I surmised this as well, but hadn’t been sure.”
“How?” Xiao asked.
“Kazu told me about his fight with Tachi and some of Tachi’s more complicated circumstances. It just seems natural that someone with such a hard exterior and impressive combat abilities would be aligned with the Fatui for a time, especially when you consider the Fatui’s history with Inazuma, in particular the circumstances surrounding Mikage Furnace.”
“See? As sharp-minded as ever,” Kazuha said. He leaned in Heizou’s direction and Xiao heard a laugh. Probably from a kiss on his cheek, if Xiao had to guess.
“Aw, shucks,” Heizou said.
Xiao frowned. Please, for the love of archons, do not let anything happen to Traveler.
“Well,” Heizou said with another clear of his throat. “I think we’ve collected enough naku weed. What about we get back home and start cooking?”
Back at Heizou’s house, Heizou and Kazuha joined Xiao in the kitchen. He had his reservations about this plan for numerous reasons. Close proximity with humans was the first no, the second was his seemingly insurmountable lack of knowledge about cooking, and third were his doubts over whether Tachi would even appreciate the gesture.
But he had to try.
“Extracting what we want from naku weed is actually quite simple,” Kazuha said. “We just have to steep it in dango milk.”
Xiao grimaced. “Sounds disgusting.”
Kazuha laughed. “It gets even more interesting. Try it for yourself; you’ll see.”
Heizou placed a pint of dango milk on the counter and slid it in Xiao’s direction. He had left a few other things out, too, including the eggs from this morning and a stack of clean plates and bowls.
Xiao grabbed one of the empty bowls, put it down, opened up the dango milk, and poured it in. Then he took one of the stalks of naku weed and dropped it in. It hissed and sizzled, turning the milk purple.
Xiao looked up at Kazuha, who only smiled. Was this really the predicted result? And you were expected to eat this?
The sizzling did not stop. In fact, it got worse. And then it became a crackling sound. The bowl sparked with electro as the material began to solidify.
When it stopped, it had turned into crystals that reminded Xiao of amethyst.
Kazuha picked one of the pieces out of the bowl and held it up. “Now you can do whatever you want with it. Melt it back down, crush it up… the possibilities are endless.”
“What are your thoughts?” Heizou asked.
Eyes turned onto Xiao. He shook his head. “I don’t know. What are some easy recipes?”
“You could do something with rice or eggs,” Kazuha said.
“What about omurice?” Heizou asked. “I already have a few ideas how that might work.”
“That’s a great idea,” Kazuha said. “What do you think, Xiao?”
“If you think I can handle it, then I see no harm in trying.”
“Great. Then pull up your sleeves— we’re about to get to work.”
This turned out to be more complicated than any sort of cooking Xiao had done in the past. There was a priority of what had to be done when and many steps for every component of the meal for everything from the filling that would go into the omurice to the shell itself.
He had to make decisions about what he wanted in the filling. Heizou said he had many leftover vegetables and rice in the house right now, so they used those. Kazuha helped with cooking that portion while Heizou taught Xiao how to cook the eggs.
They decided to incorporate the crushed naku extract into the egg mixture. As soon as they added it to the hot pan, the purple crystals began to melt and turned the yolk and whites purple.
“This is when we add the filling,” Kazuha said. The eggs solidified faster than Xiao had anticipated and he backed away as Kazuha approached with the bowl of pre-cooked vegetables and rice he’d prepared.
Xiao watched as Kazuha poured half of the filling on top of the eggs and took a spatula to fold the omelet properly. He noticed Xiao’s staring and pulled the skillet off the fire and angled it toward Xiao so he could see more closely.
“Angle the skillet like this and prepare a plate,” Kazuha said. “Flip it over so the seam is on bottom when it hits the plate.”
Heizou held the plate under the skillet and Kazuha pushed the omurice onto it just as he said. It landed on the center of the plate, egg on top. It reminded Xiao of lavender melon.
“Why don’t you try?” Kazuha asked.
Xiao nodded. Kazuha put the skillet back on the burner and backed away to allow Xiao space to reclaim his spot.
The egg part made sense. They had more of the mixture left, so he poured it onto the pan and watched it bubble.
“That’s too hot,” Kazuha said.
Xiao looked over at him. “What do I do?”
“Lift it higher away from the heat,” Kazuha said.
“Congrats, you learned how to make a fried egg,” Heizou said.
Xiao looked back down. The edges of the egg had crisped up. He lifted the skillet back up but was afraid it was too late. He smelled burning in his nose and grimaced.
Why was this so difficult? Kazuha had made it look so easy.
“It’s okay, you’ll get a hang of it,” Heizou said. “And fortunately, the neighbor owns chickens. We don’t have to worry about running out of ingredients.”
“Are we sure that this will be edible?” Xiao asked.
“It doesn’t really matter much, does it?” Heizou asked. “There’s no threat of killing him, at least.”
That was true. Still, better not to waste too many resources given they might not want to eat the leftovers.
Xiao turned with determined eyes onto the skillet. He offloaded his burnt egg onto their plate and started once more on another.
This was only his third attempt but he felt that he had already learned a lot from the previous ones. All he needed was a sharp eye now that he knew how quickly the eggs could cook.
He took the last of the naku weed-infused egg mixture they had prepared and poured it into the skillet. Then he lifted it away from the heat and let it firm up into a perfect circle, just as he had seen Kazuha do.
“Good,” Kazuha said. “Now just add the filling and it’ll be finished.”
He poured some of the filling onto the pan for Xiao, who grabbed the spatula and folded over the edges. With a final breath, he hovered the skillet over their previous plate and pushed the omurice onto it.
It went with a pitiful flop onto the edge of the plate and bursted on the side. Filling leaked out but Kazuha clapped.
“Very well done.”
“Yes, I think Tachi will love this,” Heizou said.
They did not know Tachi the way Xiao did, but it was enough to satisfy them and their human tastebuds, then it was good enough for Xiao, too.
“We should head over now before they get too cold,” Kazuha said.
“You are coming with me?”
“Well, naturally,” Heizou said. “We did help, after all. And how else are we meant to see his reaction?”
“Right,” Xiao said with a resigned frown.
Notes:
This is kind of dumb but I promise it's super important and worth it for next chapter!!
I've always HC'd Xiao as not really cooking anything ever. Why waste the time when there's a billion other people who are better at it than he is? And he's an adeptus, so he probably doesn't understand why humans love things like cookbooks so much, haha. Tachi could teach him though 🥺
tysm for reading as always 💕 If I'm lucky, I can sit down with my attention span this weekend and make good progress on the climax of this fic 😭 never seen an author procrastinate so hard! But also, it has been so. Hot. Someone gimme an AC cuz I could use it!!
Chapter 30: Evening Rain in my Teacup
Summary:
Tachi and Xiao discuss the blueprint and their plans for the future.
Notes:
I believe I promised someone a chapter with a looot of dialog and here we are!! Enjoy 💕
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tachi seldom dreamed when he slept. He was neutral about this fact, as when he did dream, they were often fantastical visions full of bright colors and detail ranging across every fathomable emotion. That would not be a bad thing if not for the fact that lately, people from his past had started to appear in these dreams.
Sometimes there were tears and blood.
Tonight, there was fog.
Tachi stood on a bridge in Liyue Harbor. He knew this from the decorations of the green-tiled archway above his head. He faced the rest of the bridge, which led into clear nothing. When he turned around, a dirt path led into nothing, too.
What was this all about? His first time sleeping again in days and it was right back to being toyed with by some entity clearly intent on causing him grief. Pretty typical as far as things in his life went.
"Hello?" Tachi asked. His voice echoed into the vastness of nothing around him. "If there's someone there, say something."
A voice emerged, slow and gentle, into his ear. It sounded like an old woman.
"So, you are the young man Zhongli told me about who had made friends with Xiao."
"I am five hundred years old."
"And I am five thousand, seven hundred and forty-two years old."
"I get your point."
It occurred to Tachi then that he was speaking to an adeptus. It made sense if they were a friend of Zhongli and Xiao's. He had read once, too, that adepti were capable of an art known as “Dream Trawler” — visiting people in their dreams.
“My adeptal name is Streetward Rambler but you may address me as Madame Ping.”
In the far distance, an old woman approached, the fog bending around her to reveal her form. She was shorter than Tachi and kept her arms folded behind her hunched-over back, though her eyes shone clearly.
Tachi had met this woman once, though they had not spoken then. She had been one of the people who had visited Xiao while he was recovering in Bubu Pharmacy.
“I’m honored to make your acquaintance,” Tachi said.
She smiled. “Thank you. And much the same from me.”
“But to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I was speaking with Zhongli today about Xiao’s condition,” she said. “It was a very long conversation. And although Zhongli insists on keeping his distance for fear of instilling more guilt upon Xiao, I wanted to see for myself what has become of him.”
“Everyone’s still worried about him then,” Tachi said.
“How is he?”
“He’s… stable,” Tachi said.
The tone of his voice came out more matter-of-fact than he had planned. He had not been expecting to be able to say that at this point. He’d been planning something else, maybe, “He’s worse, but at least he’s breathing.”
That was no doubt because Tachi had spent a lot of his life around death. It had become the one inevitability he was always bracing for. A part of him had no doubts about Xiao falling to the karma. It would not be surprising for something so large to happen while they were in the land already tainted with memories of death and hatred for Tachi. What was more trauma?
“Is he eating well?” Madame Ping asked.
Such a gentle question. So considerate and so human.
“Yes, I have been cooking for him every day.”
“And he has been sleeping?”
“Every night.”
Madame Ping laughed. “You are a good caretaker.”
Tachi blushed.
He realized that, in a dream, he could feel the blood he didn’t have rising to his cheeks. He could indulge, for just a few minutes, in the plastic enjoyment of a human’s physiology.
“Tell me, is Xiao happy?”
This was the hardest of her questions yet. Just like Cloud Retainer, she came with puzzles.
“I…” I hope so. “Yes.”
“Why the hesitation?” Madame Ping asked.
“He doesn’t smile very often,” Tachi said. “It’s understandably difficult sometimes to judge how he’s feeling.”
He frowned. But then he remembered last night.
“But he’s started to smile more,” Tachi added.
“He has always been closed off to others,” Madame Ping said. “Even as a fellow adeptus, I struggle too to read his emotions.”
“For an adeptus, you seem pretty in-touch with your emotions. The same goes for Zhongli. But from my understanding, adepti are pretty solitary people who are inclined toward less expressive emotions. At least in Xiao’s case.”
“That is for several reasons,” Madame Ping said. “But when it comes to Xiao, it’s primarily because he is a yaksha. A yaksha must maintain constant control over their mental and emotional state, otherwise the demons roiling inside of them will exploit it. So, anger and fear, among other emotions, are not in a yaksha’s vocabulary, so to speak.”
“For someone who isn’t a yaksha herself, you sure know a lot about this,” Tachi said.
“I have worked with him closely in the past,” Madame Ping said. “Even though it was a long time ago, I did not need to be in his presence long to remember what it had felt like.”
“He’s not easily forgotten,” Tachi said.
Madame Ping laughed. “No, he is not. I would like you to tell me in more specific detail how he's doing. Has he shown any worrying symptoms?"
"He had a very difficult time on the trip here. He's been having trouble with his balance ever since," Tachi said. "I'm sure Zhongli already told you that we took a ship. There was a storm the last night before we arrived in Inazuma where he nearly drowned. He'd seen someone who wasn't there and followed her over the edge of the ship and into the ocean."
"But he was in control the whole time?"
"To my knowledge, yes. Although the karmic debt has been manifesting itself more frequently as this black mist around him," Tachi said. "Even though he's been completely 'here,' the energy has been getting worse."
"It has started to spread," Madame Ping said. "He must struggle constantly to contain it."
"He felt well enough to go off on his own this morning," Tachi said, "and yet his condition really hasn't improved in the slightest."
"You are running out of time," Madame Ping said. "You must act quickly."
"What do you think I'm doing?" Tachi snapped. He shook his head, pressing a hand against his temple. "Sorry. It's just... I have been trying practically everything."
"You don't need to hold onto him so tightly," she said. "For all the time that I have known Xiao, he has always kept a tight tension in his shoulders. It seems that you are much the same. Let loose a little; you may be surprised at how healing it can be."
"But that is just a temporary measure," Tachi said. "The slain gods inside of him aren't going to have a change of heart just because he got his goodnight kiss or picked some flowers or something.”
"Perhaps not, but it will bring him happiness and confidence. Sound of mind encourages sound of body."
"I see."
"Although he has gotten weaker physically, the mental state is even more vital."
"Then why does slaying monsters help?" Tachi asked.
"The slain gods find comfort in the bloodshed."
“Wonderful."
"Thank you for helping Xiao," Madame Ping said. "I am sorry our conversation this time had to be so sad. May our next meeting be under better circumstances."
"I still have more questions for you," Tachi said.
"There is no time. Your friends are looking for you," Madame Ping said.
Her figure began to melt away like mist scattering as the sun rose over Qingce Village.
Then a light blazed in Tachi's vision, swallowing the faded bridge and white sky. Tachi saw only a flash of white then opened his eyes again to feel his body on the floor.
Knees and the tatami mat sat in front of him. He recognized the hue of Xiao's trousers, then the red and mustard of Kazuha and Heizou’s shorts, respectively.
He heard voices— er, one voice— calling his name.
"...Chi? Tachi?"
"I'm awake," Tachi said.
He sat up, the room shifting to reflect this new perspective. Xiao sat at his bedside, a white plate grasped in his hands. Some cooked purple thing gave off a faint bit of steam.
This was hardly what he had expected when he put his head down to rest. He had never slept long enough to provide an opportunity for someone to interrupt his rest, but he found that he didn’t mind. It wasn’t like he was capable of the same groggy sensation that might make other people get frustrated by getting interrupted, after all.
In fact, thank the archons Xiao was back, and with such good timing, too. Tachi had much to tell him.
…That was, once they were alone.
"Here, we brought you something to eat," Heizou said.
Tachi returned to staring at the plate. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, and he’d seen humans cook plenty of things. He could hazard no guesses as to what it was aside from the vegetables leaking from one edge of one of the purple things. And there was also a third half-burnt purple thing off to the side.
He looked up at Kazuha and Heizou. "I don't like lavender melon."
"It isn't lavender melon," Xiao said.
"Oh?" Tachi asked. But lavender melon was practically the same hue.
Now they had definitely captured his attention.
Tachi held out his open hands and Xiao placed the plate in them. It was still warm from when the food had been cooked. Xiao also placed down a pair of wooden chopsticks on the edge of the plate.
Tachi placed the plate in his lap, picked up the chopsticks, and pinched a corner of the food with them, breaking it off. It had a firm texture, firm enough that Tachi could bring it to his mouth without it falling apart. It reminded him of scrambled eggs.
He took his first bite.
It was not often that Tachi felt pain. He had felt the most of it when he had first arrived at Sumeru and reclaimed his memories. He felt emotional pain sometimes. But this… this felt worryingly similar to pain.
Tachi’s tongue tingled. He surprised himself with how much he enjoyed the sensation, actually. It was certainly different from what he had expected.
Once he tasted it, he could confirm, no, it wasn’t lavender melon. It tasted first of cooked green beans and peas, the flavor of the purple thing sneaking up more gradually than he had expected. Thus, once it actually hit, Tachi’s face screwed up with further confusion.
It was… bitter. But also a little like tasting soap. It wasn’t as overpowering as he thought it would be. He definitely enjoyed the tingling in his mouth more than the taste itself, though as far as the ultimate taste went, it was one he liked.
“What is this?” Tachi asked. He pointed with a clarifying chopstick at the thing he definitely confirmed was cooked egg infused with some other ingredient.
“Naku weed,” Xiao said.
Tachi’s lips split into a wide grin. “It’s what? Who made this?”
“I made it,” Xiao said.
He couldn’t help himself. He started to laugh, strong and loud, enough that Xiao had to grab the plate from his lap otherwise he’d upset it enough for it to spill onto the floor.
Xiao made him something and its main ingredient was naku weed, of all things! When left to his own devices in a kitchen, he chose to do this with that power? And Tachi was the first one to make Xiao feel the want to cook anything?
There were too many emotions to process at once. Joy, flattery, bafflement, shock, and, most of all, amusement.
“You made something that would kill a human fully knowing I’m impervious to it,” Tachi said. “But then has it been taste-tested at all?”
Xiao shook his head. Tachi laughed again. Xiao’s face had gotten dark with blush now, which reached up to his ears. This only made Tachi happier.
His eyes turned onto Kazuha and Heizou. He hadn’t forgotten about them, after all. “You had some play in this, didn’t you? Whose idea was the naku weed?”
Kazuha smiled. He lifted a bandaged hand in a gesture of resignation. “Guilty as charged.”
“You’re more like Niwa than I thought,” Tachi said. “It would be just like him to suggest something outlandish like this.”
“Do you like it?” Xiao asked.
Tachi calmed his laughter, regaining some of his composure. He would have to write about this tonight. It was much too good to forget.
Xiao’s notched eyebrows were drawn up on his forehead. Tachi noticed absently that he was wringing his hands in his lap. Worry didn’t suit him well, especially after the conversation Tachi had just finished with Madame Ping. Didn’t he deserve to be happy for once?
“It’s perfect,” Tachi said. “I love it. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, his face already clearing with relief.
“Have you heard? There’s going to be another thunderstorm rolling in this afternoon,” Kazuha said. “Heizou and I don’t want to intrude, so we’ll be going now.”
“That’s quite convenient,” Tachi said. “So it’s as I guessed. You just wanted to see my reaction to the cooking.”
“Perhaps,” Kauzha said with a smirk.
“Still. You’re right. The last thing I need right now is to be trapped in a room with the two of you,” Tachi said.
“We’re really such awful company?” Heizou asked.
“Not necessarily,” Tachi said. “I was trying to make a joke.”
Kazuha stood and grabbed Heizou’s hand. “Come on, partner. Let’s go somewhere where we’re a little more appreciated.”
“Quite,” Heizou said.
He stood with Kazuha and spared one last look at them.
“Have a good day. If you ever need anything, you know where to find us.”
“Right,” Tachi said.
“Thank you,” Xiao said.
Heizou and Kazuha spared no more goodbyes and left the room. They pulled the screen door closed and Tachi turned his eyes back onto Xiao.
Maybe Tachi’s response had been too much. Xiao avoided his gaze, staring into the ground instead. His hands shook. Just a small quiver, but Tachi had conditioned himself to notice even those. Tachi couldn’t tell if he was crying, but it didn’t feel the right mood for that. His ears were still bright with blush; maybe he was just embarrassed still?
“Are you alright?” Tachi whispered.
“I… I am fine,” Xiao said.
“Are you sure?”
“Do you mind not using that tone?”
“Of course,” Tachi said. He brought his voice back to its normal speaking volume. Was there something wrong with whispering?
“Thank you again for the food,” Tachi said.
He hesitated then pulled the plate from Xiao’s lap and returned it to his. He picked his way through the rest of the food as Xiao remained silent at his side.
Once Tachi finished eating, he put aside his plate and cleared his throat. Xiao looked back over at him yet still refused to be the first to initiate conversation. There his eyebrows went again, carving his face into an expression of concern.
The mood was getting quite tense, wasn’t it? Maybe he had asked Tachi to change his tone because he was getting more sensitive to sound. Or maybe he was falling once more into a bout of not wanting to speak. Whatever the situation, Tachi just wished he would break out of it.
“I think we both need to sit down and recollect our thoughts,” Tachi said. “After all, there’s a lot to talk about. Why don’t you start. You went to Tatarasuna, right? How did you like it?”
Xiao’s eyes widened. “How did you…”
“That look of pity… It’s written all over your face. Traveler has shown it to me before, too. But you shouldn’t pity me. I got what I deserved.”
“That isn’t it,” Xiao said. “It’s just… I understand how you feel. That place is not the one you remember. Your people and memories are in the past, regardless of which timeline they happened in. To be standing there, witnessing how everything has changed since the brief things I know about the past that occurred there… I have had that feeling before.”
“Then I have no doubt you also understand why I never offered to go with you there,” Tachi said.
Xiao nodded.
“I appreciate you not forcing me to go. I know a few people who would insist that it’s ‘good for me’ to see what it’s like today. But really, marks made by the past aren’t so easily erased by the present or even the future,” Tachi said. “Even if it’s changed in every way imaginable from the way I last visited, it’s always just going to look the same to me. And I can’t stand with being distracted by my own emotions right now.”
“Have you not visited it once since you left the first time?” Xiao asked.
“No, I visited a few times. Often to my ultimate regret at the end. I went once as the Balladeer while I was overseeing operations at a factory nearby. And Wanderer encountered the place once too, but both times I had completely shut out my emotional connection to the place. I know that if I went today, my reaction would be completely different.”
“For what it is worth, all of the people looked very happy. I have no doubts why this is a place you have loved dearly.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Tachi said. “It has quite the storied past, and I made no small contribution to its problems.”
“Not all of it is your fault. You were just starting out in life, just as I was when darkness decided to exploit that weakness.”
“Hah,” Tachi laughed, weak and unsure, then shook his head and looked into his lap. “Neither of us ever would have become the people we are today had we not encountered the worst of life’s creations. In that way, it’s cruelly ironic that we found each other despite all of that. I’m not one to often believe in things like fate, but I definitely believe that that is what brought us together.”
“It’s too much to be mere coincidence,” Xiao said. “Even though Wanderer nor Mochou had any idea what his past was truly like.”
“I don’t sit well with the thought of shoving my actions onto others and blaming them for what transpired. I take full responsibility for what I did against Tatarasuna and everything afterward,” Tachi said. “But I’m beginning to understand how it wasn’t my fault alone for what happened. If it weren’t for Dottore and that furnace, the people of Tatarasuna could have lived much longer, more prosperous lives.”
“You did not ask to be brought into this world any more than I did,” Xiao said. “We can only do our best to carve out a path for ourselves in the life that we have been given. We will fulfill our purposes best we can, or in my case, find a new purpose.”
“Yes, exactly,” Tachi said. “You know, I’m glad you said that. For me, the past two years have been spent executing Nahida’s orders. Sumeru already has sages at the Akademiya and mercenaries who handle most of the work. There’s specific things only I can help with, which I suppose momentarily staved off the feeling that I was just taking up space, but after a while, I began to wonder if she only kept me around as a courtesy.”
“That’s not possible,” Xiao said. “You’re very intelligent and exceptionally good at completing random tasks.”
Tachi laughed. “Thank you. But anyway, I got sidetracked. What I meant to say is, we’re both working on our purposes in life. And we came from some rough upbringings. I still sometimes think about the discussions we used to have about how confusing humans are and how, whatever I’m feeling, you’re already right there with me.”
“Really?” Xiao asked. “Lately I have worried that I’ve been falling too far behind.”
“There’s no such thing,” Tachi said. “This is not some sort of race that you can compete at and win. And anyway, you went off with Kazuha and Heizou without me today with no issue. I think that’s proof enough that you can handle people on your own.”
“Thank you,” Xiao said.
“You’re welcome,” Tachi said, the words laced with a smile. “So, Tatarasuna was alright. What else?”
“I want you to tell me more about the parchment Ei gave to you."
Tachi sighed. "Alright. I've avoided talking about it long enough." He reached into his sleeve and pulled it out. He handed it to Xiao, who unfurled it and looked at its contents.
Tachi didn’t want to touch it anymore. He hadn’t expected handing it off to someone else to be such a weight off his shoulders.
"When I initially planned to come here, I thought I had the right intentions and a solid plan. But I'm realizing now that what I was asking for is practically useless,” Tachi said. "The blueprints she gave us are for a human puppet to contain someone’s consciousness. Thus, these blueprints would need to undergo some extensive modifications to be of any use to us."
"But that doesn't make them useless," Xiao said. "They can still be used for something, right?"
"Yes, but not in their current state."
"Tachi, is there something wrong with these blueprints?"
Tachi frowned. He shifted in his seat, folding his legs once more. His skin bristled just thinking of his next words. They had already made him feel sick to his stomach earlier. Even the utterance of just one simple name could make the acid churn.
"These blueprints were created by Il Dottore.”
"Impossible!" Xiao said. "I thought you only met him once you arrived in Tatarasuna. How is it possible that he is the one who manufactured these?"
"By that point in his life, he had already started creating segments of himself, each one representative of a different point in his life. The segments are not always fully aware of each other. They function just as typical humans do, with their own unique personalities and memories. Maybe the blueprint fell into Ei's hands by accident. Or maybe one of his more mischievous segments decided to give her the information knowing it would pay off in his favor in the future."
"This still poses so many questions," Xiao said. "I can't believe it. To have thought that he played a hand in your creation..."
"I know. The man who brought me so much pain and torment for years, some of it that even I was ignorant to, wasn't just the one who had killed and framed Niwa but also the one who'd helped create me? Is that why it was so easy for him to make modifications to me? He must have known, the bastard, and I hate him all the more for that."
"We need to find some other way. I don't want to use his technology like this."
"I don't really want to, either. But we don't have much of a choice. The real issue is that it’s going to be difficult to procure the proper materials to get this to work. But Dottore can help with that, too."
"What do you recommend?"
“I’m going to go straight to Snezhnaya and strangle the modifications out of him with my own hands.”
“I’m going with you.”
“I knew you were going to say that.”
“You have to let me come,” Xiao said. “Surely you understand.”
“I do. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way. The trip to Snez is already perilous enough. Are you prepared to face those dangers?”
“I accepted a long time ago that I would fall to this debt,” Xiao said. “But I don’t want to die anymore. If there is even a slim chance that this will make things better, then I want to latch onto it.”
Was there really no other way? Why were all of their solutions things that so smoothly coincided with the kabukimono and Scaramouche’s pasts? When Tachi made his promise to right the wrongs he had committed in his past lives and exact revenge on those who had wronged him, he had not intended to fulfill both in a trip around Teyvat.
More than anything, he wished circumstances had been different. If he had not stayed away for as long as he did, if he had talked to Xiao more, or if he hadn’t gone to Mondstadt, then things never would have happened this way.
When you looked for flaws, you were sure to find them.
“...And anyway, with you by my side, I believe everything will turn out alright,” Xiao added.
Without even solidifying their plans yet, Tachi was already running logistics in his head for how the travel to Snez would work. How could he ensure they would have a reliable supply of food? How would they stay warm? Would Tachi reliably be able to tell if Xiao was getting too cold if Xiao was too ashamed to say something? And what about monsters?
“Tachi? Are you listening?” Xiao asked.
“Yes, I’m listening,” Tachi said. “I just got distracted.”
Xiao sighed and dropped his eyes back onto the tatami mats beneath them. Two fingers pinched the sleeve of his silk hanfu.
“I can’t promise that everything will be alright,” Tachi said. “It’s just bothering me.”
“Of course you can’t,” Xiao said. “The world is a harsh and cruel place. I have no clue what awaits us there and I even heard from Heizou and Kazuha that Traveler is traveling there.”
Tachi cursed. “Really? Does that mean the Tsaritsa has already collected all the gnoses?”
“What? What does that mean?”
“It’s complicated and beyond the scope of what I’m capable of worrying about right now,” Tachi said. “Traveler will handle it. But maybe, just maybe, we can be there to help turn the tides. If they’re already there to deal with the Tsaritsa, then that naturally means all her cronies too, including Dottore.
“I don’t know what their plan is, but I’m expecting that Traveler’s not going in there without reinforcements. After all, there’s still eight harbingers, not counting Childe, the Balladeer, and Signora, who Ei took care of.”
“So this might be better timing than we thought,” Xiao said.
Tachi nodded. “But that doesn’t mean the trip there will be any easier. And actually, Traveler’s arrival in Snez is sure to bring some unexpected complications. As is always the case when they stick their nose into something.”
“Traveler’s strong, competent, and has a large capacity for compassion,” Xiao said. “I don’t share this worry about their presence. If anything, it’s comforting to know we will have support once we arrive there.”
“That’s true,” Tachi said. “The Snezhnaya suggestion isn’t driven primarily by a desire for revenge but I can’t deny that that plays a small part in it. You have to be prepared to see more of the side of myself that I have not shown anyone. At least, not in this iteration.”
“I understand,” Xiao said.
“Can you… can you promise me something?” Tachi asked.
“Of course.”
The last time someone made a promise with Tachi, it hadn’t gone well. And the time before that, and even the time before that. But he was not about to give up on a little wishful thinking from time to time.
Tachi lifted his gaze and met Xiao’s, staring at the golden flecks in his eyes and the still posture to his back. He didn’t look as worried as Tachi had anticipated about this whole thing. He mostly just looked resigned, his lips drawn into a long, thin line as his hands dropped back into his lap.
“If I go too far— say, make threats to the wrong person or lash out unjustly— be there to rein me in, will you? There’s no telling what I’ll be like around the other harbingers. We never exactly got along.”
“I can do that for you,” Xiao said.
“Good.”
“And I expect the same of you,” Xiao said. “If I ever get out of control—”
“—That won’t happen.”
“—Then you will know what to do,” Xiao finished.
“What do you want me to do?” Tachi asked.
“If I get out of control, then the priority should be the safety of other people. If I ever succumb to the darkness, it’s unlikely I will never regain consciousness again. You will have to put me out of my misery.”
Tachi had already thought this same thing a long time ago but he had never wished to hear the words coming from Xiao’s mouth.
“I don’t want to do that,” Tachi said.
“Please,” Xiao said.
His eyebrows furrowed, his shoulders slumped, covered with the perfectly neat folds of his hanfu. The room had gone dark as rain clouds closed in outside. The storm Kazuha had mentioned earlier was no doubt approaching.
“I understand,” Tachi whispered.
“But do you promise?” Xiao asked.
Tachi wanted to say no. He wanted to say, in that overly petulant way that he used to reject harbinger missions he didn't like, that Xiao would have to find someone else to get this promise from.
But then Tachi remembered the same sad, distant look that had been in Xiao’s eyes all the other times he had mentioned what had become of the other yakshas when they had been overcome by the darkness. He understood why Xiao felt this was necessary but understanding something and acting on it were two separate issues.
“I promise.”
“Thank you,” Xiao said.
“Of course.”
Well. that was probably enough heavy discussion for the moment. Tachi licked his lips, not realizing they had become dry.
“I know this trip has not gone the way we wanted it to, but I am grateful we came,” Xiao said. “This isn’t over yet. It’s too early to begin worrying about worst-case scenarios.”
“I know,” Tachi said. “My mind just always goes there first.”
“So does mine.”
“Always right on my heels,” Tachi mumbled with a smile.
“Are you feeling better than you were earlier?” Xiao asked.
Tachi nodded. “A little bit. I must be the luckiest puppet in all of Teyvat to have you to thank for cheering me up when I’m down.”
“Good,” Xiao said.
It had started to rain outside. Tachi and Xiao sat in silence for a while, just listening to it echoing off the tiles of the roof. Xiao closed his eyes and tilted his chin up toward the ceiling. Tachi imagined for a second what it would be like if he could record the moment forever in a painting or even a quick drawing. Rex Lapis had that stupid statue of himself in his own backyard. Maybe, once things had settled down— if they settled down— they could hang a painting of Xiao in Wangshu Inn.
Xiao probably wouldn’t want that. Something about glorification of slaughterers or something. But Tachi would insist. Because beauty like this deserved to be shared with others, especially if Xiao was not comfortable enough to bless other humans with his physical presence.
“Hey, Xiao?” Tachi asked.
“Hm?”
Xiao opened his eyes again, revealing the bright gold of his irises.
“You’ve been in your hanfu all day. Would you like me to clean it for you?”
“Oh, uh,” Xiao looked down, his eyes going wide as saucers. He lifted up the sleeves, revealing a grass stain. “I mean, I…”
He paused. His cheeks had started to gain some color.
“No need to agree if you’re not comfortable,” Tachi said. “We can do it some other time. I just thought since it’s already raining out it would make bathing easier.”
“I don’t usually bathe with other people.”
“I wasn’t recommending that you start,” Tachi said. “I’m capable of looking the other way if you want some privacy. Or I could even leave the room, whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“I, uh, I don’t know,” Xiao said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
Xiao glared at him. “I’m not embarrassed.”
But the flush in his cheeks suggested a different story. Tachi couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course not. You’re just happy to see me, right?”
Xiao stared at him for a cold second. His eyebrows drew up in worry as he leaned forward.
Tachi’s eyebrows scrunched together with confusion. He felt Xiao’s hands reaching for his kimono, curling around the edges that covered his torso. What did it mean?
But the question rapidly found its answer when Xiao yanked him closer in one fluid movement. He forced their lips together, closing his eyes, revealing the red eyeliner sparking across his eyelid.
It was such a clumsy gesture but one borne of desperation and clear courage.
Tachi wished it had lasted longer or that he had been even minutely prepared. Xiao pulled away and dropped his forehead onto Tachi’s shoulder. The hands on his kimono squeezed the material and Tachi reached to hold him close.
He latched his hands loosely together behind Xiao’s back and closed his eyes. Had that really just happened?
“I feel so hot,” Xiao whispered, his voice gravely and faint.
Tachi could feel it. The karma licked across his wrists and up to his throat where it burned just a little. Tachi had heard once that vision-holders were more equipped to endure Xiao’s tainted karma, but now that it was getting worse, did that change that, too?
“It’s okay,” Tachi said. “Take a few breaths. It will pass.”
Xiao followed his advice, sucking in a breath. He cleared his throat once.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” Xiao said.
“You’re welcome,” Tachi said.
“Can we stay like this a little longer?”
“Of course, as long as you need.”
Some time passed before Xiao composed himself enough to stand and prepare to bathe.
Thoughts of Tachiyaku hounded him the whole time. The image of him bringing a blade to his mother's throat burned the inside of Xiao's eyelids. And to think that had only just happened this morning.
Some of Xiao's inner voices had actually really enjoyed the scene. He heard pestering hisses and whisperings about it as he stood, naked, under the curtain of rain in the backyard.
He ran his fingers through his hair and down past his jutted-out ribs.
He has blackness in his soul.
How fun!
Your death will prove interesting yet.
Xiao gritted his teeth. He flicked rain out of his eyes and walked back onto the porch. He'd told Tachi before that he didn't care whether Tachi saw him nude, but as Xiao padded, barefoot, back onto the porch, Tachi's gaze made his cheeks burn.
Once Xiao entered the room again, Tachi jumped at the opportunity to wrap him in two warm layers of kimono. He stood behind Xiao as he draped them around Xiao's shoulders and pulled the front taut.
“Don't catch a cold,” Tachi said.
Xiao reached for his hand as it lifted away.
"Hm?" Tachi hummed.
“Share a futon with me tonight."
Xiao only had the courage to say that when he knew Tachi wasn't looking at him.
He closed his eyes, bracing for a rejection, when Tachi said, "Alright."
That night, after dinner, some awkward conversation, and another change into fresh clothes, Xiao and Tachi settled down into the same bed.
Xiao pulled Tachi close and lowered his head until it hit Tachi's chest. Although he didn't hear a heartbeat underneath his ear, there was enough pulsing in his head to compensate. Tachi curled his arms around Xiao's waist and held the pose.
“Hey, Xiao.”
“Yes?" Xiao asked.
“What was your first name, the one you used before Zhongli gave you your current one?”
“You must promise not to tell anyone.”
“I promise,” Tachi whispered.
Xiao hesitated. He listened to the sprinkle of rain outside and shifted his hand across Tachi’s nagajuban, feeling the rough cotton of the fabric underneath his fingertips.
“My old name used to be Xuě.”
Tachi repeated it. Xiao sucked in a slow breath, trepidation traveling down his spine. He had not heard the sound of his own name in such a long time.
“It’s a beautiful name. It suits you well.”
“I have not used it since I was enslaved to an evil god long ago,” Xiao said.
“I’m sorry. I won’t use it,” Tachi said. “I just couldn’t help my curiosity.”
“Despite the trauma associated with it, I like when you say it,” Xiao said. “I like when you call my name.”
“When all of this is over, I look forward to the day that I can call your name and you’ll suddenly appear from thin air to greet me again,” Tachi said.
He sounded amused. Xiao hid a smile against his body. “Do not abuse it or I will stop appearing.”
“Of course. I would never think to do such a thing,” Tachi said. “Now get some rest. You must be exhausted.”
The truth was that Xiao was more hungry than tired. But there were at least a dozen other things wrong with him and he had burdened Tachi with enough trouble for the day. Although everything still hurt as usual, at least Tachi was there to keep him warm.
“Good night,” Xiao murmured.
Tachi provided no response. Xiao felt the sting of a hand against his forehead, perhaps feeling for a temperature, before it slid away again and Xiao sighed.
Notes:
Thank you so much for reading!
Last week, it was the heat. This week, smoky air quality. Girl can't catch a break!! But I told myself I'd make today a writing day so we'll see how it goes! Xiao still needs to
get his shit wreckedfinish the arc of his character but we are very close to a conclusion in my drafts...
Chapter 31: Entering the Gate Hand-in-Hand
Summary:
Tachi and Xiao spend their last day in Inazuma. Tachi teaches sword dancing.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Kabukimono played with the edges of his kimono, the silken white sleeves shorter than what he was used to, revealing his pure-white forearms. He noticed that a thin seam ran where the hinge of his upper arm met his elbow. He tugged the sleeve down a little, feeling self-conscious.
The room was quiet. He was alone save for the sound of the silk brushing against his skin and his footsteps on the tatami mats as he searched for a mirror hidden away in a dresser.
The deal had been that Niwa would come for him when it was his time. When he had initially agreed to the plan, the kabukimono had thought it sounded clever. But now he realized he had been so foolish for agreeing to this plan as it scared him a little to think that they wouldn’t be coming for him after all.
The Kabukimono found the mirror that he had been searching for. It was an old heirloom, gold dusted over its metal frame to make it look more valuable. The glass hadn’t been polished for some time, reflecting a smudge of dirt on the kabukimono’s cheek that he wiped away with the sleeve of his garments without thinking too much about the scolding he would get for getting them dirty.
“Kuniyuki!” Niwa called.
The kabukimono set the mirror back down and stood as the door to the room slid open with a wooden clack. Niwa had started calling him “Kuniyuki” because the kabukimono had kindly requested it, and each time, it made him more embarrassed. And yet, he couldn’t deny the smile that spread across his lips at the sound.
“It’s time for the sword dance,” Niwa said. He entered the room dressed in bright reds and browns. Kuniyuki missed his old worker’s outfit.
Kuniyuki nodded. “I’m ready.”
Niwa gestured toward the doorway.
Niwa and Kuniyuki had been training for this for months. Niwa had taken care of everything, from the costuming to the choreography of the blade dance that they were to perform together. Kuniyuki had tried to help out in any way he could, but he had often been rebuffed, encouraged to spend as much time as possible practicing.
When he approached the middle of the village in tabi and a silk-white kimono, he thought he finally understood why. Everyone had come out to celebrate Nagamasa-san’s new blade. Villagefolk sat around a low wooden stage just outside the canopied area where the workers did their daily tasks.
The women who had taught Kuniyuki how to play the flute were there. And the other’s wives, and even Kuniyuki's fellow workers and the humans he had made friends with. Even the children sat on their cushions, hands clamped down on their knees in anticipation.
When Niwa guided Kuniyuki onto the stage, he felt so wobbly. He had done all his recitals barefoot because the actual dance was done in tabi, yet somehow, he still felt off-kilter. The way the people’s eyes shined at him made him look shyly away.
“Start the music! We’re ready!” Niwa hollered.
He turned toward Kuniyuki with a blade in his hand. “Here, just like we practiced.”
Kuniyuki held out his hands and accepted the sword. It was heavy in his arms, heavier than the blades he had practiced with.
A drumbeat echoed over the fields, through the houses, and into the hearts of his audience. Although Kuniyuki had no heart, the rhythm of this drum ran just as quickly as he imagined his heart rate would have.
He lifted the blade above his head, brought his eyes up to the sky, and began to dance.
Kuniyuki had gotten the beginning part down to pinpoint accuracy. The other bladesmiths who had seen him practicing said he looked robotic in his movements and acted just as swiftly as the Raiden Shogun delivering divine punishment. That part made his spine tingle and he was not sure that was a good thing.
In the present moment, though, it felt good. He allowed the sword to become an extension of his arm, reaching out toward the heavens as he moved across the stage. Each step weaved him in the direction he desired to go, just as Niwa had taught him.
Quickly enough, Niwa joined him and Kuniyuki's eyes would not leave his. Kuniyuki's breath caught in his throat and he indeed forgot to breathe. He was too focused on this movement of his hand grasping the sword tightly enough, making swift enough movements with his body. Letting the music carry him away enough to still make the dance his.
Niwa moved around him, filling in each of his footsteps in the spaces he left behind. They circled each other, their blades both stiff above their heads but never bumping together. It felt mesmerizing enough being in the center of this movement; Kuniyuki couldn’t imagine what it looked like from afar. His only regret was that he couldn’t do it barefoot.
Kuniyuki’s favorite part of the performance began with a strike of the drums. He dropped into a crouch and brought the sword down in a swoop.
Niwa had taught him that sword dances were one way to test a blade. One could learn its center of balance and its friction this way. But to Kuniyuki, all he really learned was that it was beautiful.
The audience did not gasp. Maybe they were too respectful for it? But Kuniyuki had always found manners a little tiresome. He continued without the vocal encouragement, moving into another stage of the dance.
And so it went, each movement more exciting and satisfying after practicing them so many times. When the finale arrived and Niwa joined him one last time to compare their blades together in intricate movements, Kuniyuki kept his eyes as open as he could, wanting to treasure the moment as much as possible.
Then the final drumbeat hit. Niwa dropped his posture and exhaled a breath as the audience stood with hands and voices erupting in approving applause.
Kuniyuki remembered bowing next to Niwa, a grin streaked across his lips, as Niwa muttered, “You’re something else, you know that? Didn’t even bother to pretend to break a sweat.”
And with that, Kuniyuki had to laugh.
The next morning, Tachi and Xiao got dressed and cleaned up the room before speaking to each other. Xiao felt as if he was blistering all over. With some movements, it felt as though cuts had been torn open on his skin, bringing red, pulsing pain with it. But whenever he looked over at Tachi to gauge his reaction, he got nothing. That is how he knew that he appeared normal as usual and that the pain was still primarily inside.
It had been like this with the others, too, which made it all the more dangerous. If a deer injured its leg, the rest of the herd would recognize the injury immediately. But a pain that originated from the consciousness could go unnoticed for much longer.
Tachi had been giving Xiao steady doses of medicines that he had acquired from Traveler and Zhongli. As prideful and honorable as ever, Xiao never asked for any. He still wanted to latch as long as possible onto the belief that he could somehow manage this, that it was not yet so disastrous that he couldn’t deal with it himself. (He was fortunate, then, that Tachi knew this, and took matters into his own hands at regular intervals with his offerings.)
It would be well within his rights to inquire about the medicine. Today, in particular, he wanted to know how much they had left. He hated to be so dependent on it, and yet, the image of his fellow yakshas falling to the karma had become the more unpleasant outcome. Anything Xiao could do to prevent that for himself, he would do it.
Tachi and Xiao instead spent their morning breakfast discussing their future plans. Every unknown they could quash now would relieve some of Xiao’s tension later.
“Snezhnaya is about as far northwest as you could get in Teyvat,” Tachi said. “I can’t really fathom any easy means of getting there that aren’t completely ridiculous or very costly in a manner of different ways. The longest but simplest plan is to start here, return to Liyue Harbor, travel to Sumeru, go up through Fontaine, hitch a ride and take it as far into Snez territory as we can get, then finish the journey by foot to the palace.”
“And the more complicated plan?” Xiao asked.
Tachi smirked. “I was hoping you would ask. Some of my old… coworkers hid some special teleportation devices around other major cities in Teyvat for traveling to and from Snezhnaya. Dottore especially liked these, and it’s in fact probably how he traveled back and forth from Fontaine to Inazuma in the past. However, I don’t know which of these are active. Nahida’s the one who told me she found one in Sumeru and I personally had the privilege of destroying it.”
“Would you still be able to use them?” Xiao asked.
“It’s fairly basic rudimentary technology once you get an understanding of it. They’re similar to the waypoints Traveler uses. The only difference is the magic used to keep them hidden. Even deactivating the cloak isn’t the difficult part.”
“What’s the difficult part?”
“Knowing which of these are still in operation. I don’t have a detector or anything for them. I can only hazard guesses in places where the Harbingers used to frequent, like near the Tenryou Commission when they were still spearheading the Vision Hunt Decree. And even then, these devices are one-way. I’ve only used them a few times and I know they only spit you out in the same place every time, regardless of where you think you want to go.”
“I wish I could help more with this,” Xiao said.
“It’s okay, I have a few ideas of places to search. I don’t see why the ones in Inazuma would be deactivated by this point, so we can search here, too.”
Xiao nodded.
“But before all that… there’s also something else I wanted to do today.”
“What is that?” Xiao asked.
“I have one final thing I have to say to Kaedehara. I trust that’s okay with you?”
“Of course,” Xiao said. “Maybe Heizou and Kazuha could help me with another question I had.”
Tachi scoffed. “I don’t understand why you keep going to them for things. Am I not sufficient enough to help with… whatever it is?”
“I already burden you enough with my problems,” Xiao said. “And they’re humans. Their perspective is different.”
Tachi scoffed. “Sure, but… I’m…”
Xiao paused and tilted his head at Tachi. “Are you jealous?”
“No,” Tachi said. The chopsticks he had been holding abruptly smacked into the table. “I don’t even know the word. Let’s go find the pair before I change my mind about it.”
Xiao took the lead and guided Tachi to Heizou’s house to see if either of them were home. Tachi made some mumbling comment about the yard, which had not been tended to in quite some time it looked like.
Tachi stepped up to the door first and knocked on it a few times.
Xiao lingered by his side as he heard a voice call from inside, “Be there in a minute!”
It sounded like Heizou.
Tachi scoffed and crossed his arms.
A second later, the door creaked open and revealed Heizou on the other side. For a second, Xiao didn’t recognize the kimono around his shoulders.
But then Tachi said, “Oh, so Kazuha doesn’t know how to wear his own clothing properly, but you do. How interesting.”
Heizou crossed his arms. “What do you need from me?”
“Is Kazuha home?”
“He’s not in a place where he can receive visitors right now,” Heizou said. “Why? Did something happen?”
“No, just thought I’d bother him a little,” Tachi said with a smile.
Xiao ran a hand through the back of his hair and cleared his throat. “Um, Heizou. Do you have the time to spare today for some company?”
“I could make some time. You guys leaving soon?”
Tachi nodded.
Heizou pushed the door farther open and gestured them inside. “Alright, come on in. I’ll fetch Kazuha.”
Tachi and Xiao entered the room and Tachi took a straight beeline for the cushions in the living room with Xiao lingering behind him. They sat down next to each other facing a low table, their shoulders not even touching, yet Xiao still felt his skin prickle as he brought his hands into his lap.
Tachi was first to turn his head toward the hallway as Kazuha took short, small steps toward the living room. Xiao had never seen a human with such a ruffled appearance before. Perhaps he was not a morning person?
Heizou and Kazuha took the seats across from them with Heizou taking a seat first and Kazuha falling into the spot next to him. Kazuha pulled his knees up to his chest and dropped his chin onto Heizou’s shoulder.
“What did you need?” Heizou asked.
“Kazuha, tell me. Are you familiar with any fighting stances?” Tachi asked.
“A few,” Kazuha said. “Not many.”
“I want you to show me what you know.”
“After breakfast, right?” Heizou asked.
“You’ll get cramps if you dance on a full stomach. You’re better off doing it right now.”
Kazuha frowned. He unstuck himself from Heizou, taking a few steps across the cold floor. “Alright, I will be right there. Just give me a second to get dressed.”
Kazuha returned shortly afterward in a spare black kimono with one sleeve tied behind his back as usual. His skin was pale as though someone had splashed cold water into his face to wake him up. Xiao could almost see the droplets on his chin.
“You finally done?” Tachi asked. He gestured to the backyard. “Let’s go.”
Xiao wasn’t sure where Tachi had gotten it from, but he had brought with him a blade. Xiao was only familiar with Tulaytullah's Remembrance, the floating catalyst weapon that Xiao had only seen once in Tachi’s fight with Kazuha.
That backyard was a large square of weeds and dirt blocked in by a low wall of rocks. An old wooden picnic table sat near the back porch, stained green in some places by the nature that was beginning to reclaim it.
Tachi gestured for Kazuha to take the center of the field. Kazuha obliged and held out his open palms, accepting the blade that Tachi placed in them.
“Show me,” Tachi said and Kazuha nodded.
He approached the center of the circle and rose his sword above his head. He started out in slow movements, pacing around an invisible crescent. When he brought his sword down, it sliced cleanly through the air, leaving no sound behind. The movements were quick, faster than Xiao could track with his lagging eyesight.
It wasn’t all that interesting, however, aside from being a respectable show of his skill.
Before very long, Heizou turned toward Xiao and said, “Hey, can we talk for a second?”
Xiao nodded and stood from his seat. He spared one more glance at Tachi and Kazuha, who were discussing Kazuha’s posture in a certain move, then turned to follow Heizou back inside.
Heizou opened the door with a creak and padded across the floor toward a table in the kitchen. He picked up an envelope that had been sitting there and flicked it in Xiao’s direction. Xiao had fast enough reflexes to snatch it up. It was cream white, pressed shut with the electro insignia stamped on the back.
Heizou smirked. “Guess who was looking for Tachi yesterday.”
“The electro archon,” Xiao answered. It was an obvious answer.
“Would you believe me if I told you that she personally came to the Tenryou Commission asking for someone to find him and deliver a message to him?”
“Yes,” Xiao said.
“Good, then you already know that that’s exactly what happened,” Heizou said. “That’s the letter she wanted to send to him.”
“What does it say?”
“I don’t know. You could open it and find out yourself.”
Xiao grunted. Tachi didn’t need to be burdened with this sort of problem right now. He reached for his hip and slipped the letter into the strip of fabric that covered his waist.
“Where are you guys going next?” Heizou asked.
“Snezhnaya,” Xiao said.
“That will be quite the journey. And you’re prepared for it?”
Xiao shrugged. “Is there really a way to prepare for such a thing?”
“You have a point, although my question still stands.”
“I’m ready to see what lies ahead.”
Heizou nodded. “Good.”
A beat passed.
Xiao studied Heizou once more.
He had so many questions he still wanted to ask Heizou. Things he would never have the courage to ask anyone else, and yet, barely felt comfortable to ask Heizou about, either. Not that he was worried about Heizou judging him too harshly.
"How do you know that someone loves you?" Xiao asked.
Heizou's eyes popped open in initial surprise then crinkled under a smile. “They’re someone you’re able to put your full trust into. Someone who’s dependable, and no matter what happens, you know you can go to them for consoling. And they’ll go out of their way to do things for you and show that they care about you.”
"Is that how it was for you?"
Heizou nodded.
"I see," Xiao said. "So it is more than just saying it aloud."
"I mean, sometimes," Heizou said. "Usually by the time someone actually says it, they've been feeling it for a while. People can love each other for a long time without ever actually saying it.”
Xiao hummed in thought.
"If I might ask, why did you choose to ask me in particular about this?"
"There's no possible way I could have asked Tachi. And I didn't want to make things more awkward for Kazuha."
"Mm, so it wasn't that I was most suited for it. I was the only option," Heizou said.
"I'm sorry," Xiao said.
Heizou laughed. "Don't be. I never imagined I'd end up love guru to an adeptus thousands of years older than me! But I'm not mad about it."
"I am not sure what to do. Am I sure that he knows how I feel about him? Or should I say something?"
"Ultimately, it will be up to you to decide what to do or say. I can only provide a little of my perspective."
"I just don't want to die with regrets."
"You're not beyond saving just yet," Heizou said. "But that does beg the question, would you regret not saying something? Would it bring you closure to know he knows for absolute certain how you feel?"
"I think so."
"Then I think you should do it. Heck, if you want to be dramatic about it, you could even do it at a candle-lit restaurant. Pull out all the stops."
"Oh, right. Humans like that sort of thing," Xiao said.
"Now that you mention it, maybe you guys won't find the same appeal to it that we do."
"I will figure something out."
"I've actually got an idea," Heizou said.
"Yes?"
"Let's regroup with the others first."
It looked like Xiao and Heizou had missed very little since they’d been away.
Back with Tachi and Kazuha, Tachi stood at Kazuha’s side with a jitte in his hand. He smacked Kazuha lightly in the center of his back and said, “Straighten your posture.”
Kazuha groaned, a hand striking out to massage his side, as Heizou came up beside them and plucked the jitte from Tachi’s hand.
“Hey, Tachi, why don’t we try something else out for a while?” Heizou asked.
“Like what?” Tachi asked. He turned around, his expression deadpan.
“What about some sword dances?” Heizou asked.
“Oh, I see what game you’re getting at,” Tachi said. “Do you think sword dances will be easier? Because they aren’t.”
“Maybe you could demonstrate with Xiao,” Heizou said. “Give Kazuha a little second to limber up.”
“Me?” Xiao asked, his jaw popping open.
“Are you feeling well enough for that?” Tachi asked.
“I think so.”
Tachi sighed. “Then sure. Come over here.”
Xiao approached the other three and Kazuha handed him the blade he’d been holding. It wasn’t the same as his Primordial Jade-Winged Spear, but it would have to do. He hadn’t held a sword in countless years. He squeezed the handle as Tachi leaned in closer and touched his hand with an experimental brush of his fingers.
Xiao looked up. Kazuha and Heizou were already moving away to observe from a distance.
“Adjust your grip a little,” Tachi murmured.
“Okay,” Xiao said.
He adjusted his grip just as Tachi had told him then turned back toward him for further direction. Tachi knelt toward the ground, picking up a sword Xiao hadn’t noticed before. He was a catalyst user, wasn’t he? But the way Tachi held the sword looked very natural, too.
“Watch me closely,” Tachi said.
He took a step backward and rose the sword above his head. He couldn’t have been dancing for very long, and yet, it felt as though time had frozen. Soaked in lethargy, each shift of his muscles meticulously planned. The shortly chopped hair swayed on a breeze as Tachi moved down to the next pose, then the next after that, his feet forming a study stance in the gravel that shifted under his feet.
Once Tachi finished, he turned toward Xiao and asked, “Do you follow?”
Xiao swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.
“Do it together with me. All you need to do is mirror my movements.”
It didn’t sound too difficult, Xiao thought, as he nodded once more and took his place at Tachi’s side.
“Face me like this,” he said.
Tachi turned toward Xiao and posed the sword above his head just as he had last time.
Xiao followed the gesture. His muscles creaked under the shift of his arm above his shoulders, then his head, the weight of the sword becoming heavier and heavier the longer he held it up.
He didn’t know anything about sword art dances. He’d overheard some details from Tachi and Kazuha, but still, that hadn’t quite been enough to clear up for him what purpose this was all meant to serve.
It didn’t really matter. So long as it gave him an opportunity to stare into Tachi’s eyes, then he welcomed it.
Tachi didn’t say anything. His movements were so slow, so calculating, and Xiao took every effort to match them with his own. When he dropped the weight of the sword down all at once, Xiao followed, almost spraining a muscle at the weight shifting. His wrist hurt. His eyes hurt. Stars sparked in his vision and he withheld a shake of his head to clear them away. Tachi took a step to the side and Xiao mirrored it, taking a step in the opposite direction. Then he twisted around, their eyes meeting again.
All of the ferocity Tachi had been showing Kazuha vanished. His eyes were open, eyebrows more relaxed than Xiao had seen them in a long while.
Xiao wanted to get closer to him. He wanted to drop the sword and take Tachi’s hand instead in a slow dance. Xiao would lean his head on Tachi’s shoulder and press a hand against his chest where his heart would beat.
Tachi swung the sword up once more and Xiao shadowed him when he felt a sharp pang in his shoulder. His hand sprung open and he gasped, consumed by an all-over pulse of pain down to his nerves. It felt as though his veins were gunpowder that had been lit by fire that burned through him.
The sword clanged on the ground and Xiao was not long behind. He fell onto his knees, clutching his head between his hands.
“Xiao!” Tachi gasped.
Xiao felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder and looked up. A blurry image of Tachi shifted in front of him.
“…Okay? Are you okay?” Tachi’s voice faded in and out.
Xiao nodded. “Yes, I just… need a second.”
Tachi’s arms slid underneath his armpits and helped him back onto his feet. The movement was a little too fast for him, making his legs turn into the consistency of tofu once more. Xiao clutched onto Tachi as he led him over to the picnic table where the other two were seated.
When Xiao sat down, he felt another wave of nausea pooling over him and groaned, reaching up to hold his head in his hand. He sat completely still yet the world spun around him. He felt a light weight at his back, a hand coasting to rub light, comforting circles over and over his skin.
“Maybe we could finally break for breakfast?” Heizou asked. “Kazuha still hasn’t eaten.”
“Sure,” Tachi said, the voice floating above Xiao’s head.
Xiao reached up and gently rubbed his eyes. When he dropped his gaze on Tachi again, it stuttered in front of him, fizzing in and out. The arm closest to Xiao was lifted up, indicative that he was obviously the one trying to ease the nerves in Xiao’s muscles as the seat next to him settled with Tachi’s weight.
“You okay?” Tachi asked.
“I will be,” Xiao answered.
“We can bring it out to you,” Heizou said. “Don’t feel that you have to get back up again if you’re not feeling well enough for it.”
Xiao grunted in affirmation and then the weight of Tachi’s hand left his back. He heard the crinkling of a map then Tachi once more stretched the parchment out in front of them. Heizou and Kazuha stood and footsteps receded once more inside.
“Are you planning something?” Xiao asked.
He closed his eyes and sucked in a slow breath.
“Yes. I’m marking where I remember the Fatui teleportation device used to be,” Tachi said.
“Is it nearby?”
“Kind of. It was in Chinju Forest, which is north from here.”
“I see.”
“Do you really feel well enough to travel?”
“I already feel a little better. And anyway, we have to do it.”
“Alright…” Tachi murmured.
Xiao looked half asleep by the time Kazuha and Heizou returned bearing plates full of fruits, vegetables, and some cooked breakfast things like eggs and bacon. At his side, Xiao’s stomach growled, which made him smile. He rolled up the parchment he had been looking at and stowed it away, focusing instead on food.
Although they’d already had breakfast together earlier that day, Xiao took another plate of food from Kazuha and piled some things onto it. He plucked a strawberry from the plate in the middle of the table and brought it to his lips, swallowing the thing in one bite, stem and all.
“So, you guys are going to Snezhnaya,” Heizou said. “Have a doctor’s appointment to make or something?”
“Very clever of you,” Tachi said. “Yeah. We’re gonna be leaving after this.”
“And Xiao’s going with you?” Kazuha asked.
“Yes,” Xiao said.
Eyes turned toward him as he took another bite of his strawberry.
Tachi scratched an itch at the back of his neck, holding his tongue, as Xiao swallowed and added, “We won’t know how long we’ll be gone for. Thank you for everything you’ve done to help.”
“If there’s anything we can do to help, just say the word and we’re there,” Heizou said.
“It’s okay, we don’t need anything else,” Xiao said. “Tachi already has the next plans prepared for us.”
“Make sure to prepare lots of goulash,” Kazuha said. “That is one of the staple meals I used to eat to stave off the cold during the course of my adventures.”
“Noted,” Tachi said.
“It’s a shame you couldn’t stay longer and enjoy some of the other islands,” Heizou said. “When you guys get a chance to come back, hit us up and we’ll go together.”
“Okay,” Xiao said.
The table fell silent again and Tachi leaned forward, a hand reaching to rest at the center of Xiao’s back. Xiao briefly froze up, his shoulders tensing, before relaxing again.
His thoughts were already consumed by the future. Would the portal be there like he hoped? Or would they have to go around the other islands, as Heizou hoped, and search for a way in somewhere else?
Tachi didn’t really care if their last moments with Heizou and Kazuha were underwhelming, to say the least. Kazuha still looked half-dead across the table, bags under his eyes and hands grasping chopsticks that slipped between his fingers sometimes.
“Are you okay?” Heizou asked.
“Yes, just a little tired,” Kazuha said. “Tachi had been working me like a dog the last few days.”
“Hey, now, I’m just trying to make sure you’re set up for the future,” Tachi said.
“Yes. And I appreciate that. But still…” Kazuha said. He paused long enough to sigh. “Nevermind.”
“You mentioned being a wanderer. Have you ever been to Liyue?” Tachi asked.
“Yes, I have before.”
“And you, Heizou?”
“Naturally. We went together during the last Lantern Rite.”
“Ahh,” Tachi hummed.
“Have you guys ever gone before?” Heizou asked.
“No. Not to the harbor,” Tachi said.
“I look forward to next year,” Xiao said. “We’ll watch the lanterns together.”
“I hope so,” Tachi said with a bite on the inside of his lip, chewing on the skin there to keep himself mum.
“We will,” Xiao said, whipping his head toward Tachi. His eyes glowed in the morning sunlight and Tachi squeezed the fabric of his shirt underneath his hand.
“So, you guys are really leaving, huh?” Heizou asked.
“What? Is there something surprising about that?” Tachi asked.
Xiao stood beside Tachi as Heizou and Tachi got into a brief back-and-forth about leaving. It was just the usual bickering yet felt tinged with something new when considering this might be the last time Xiao ever heard such conversations. For all the hope he’d planted for himself upon mentioning Lantern Rite, how much of that dross did he actually believe? If he said it aloud enough times, would he begin to believe it?
“Alright, alright, let’s not stretch on goodbyes any longer than is necessary,” Tachi said.
“Good luck,” Heizou said.
“We don’t need luck,” Tachi said.
“I’m manifesting good luck for you as well,” Kazuha said. “May fate be in your favor.”
“Thank you,” Xiao said with a bow.
It was just like Tachi to make goodbyes strained. With another round of brief goodbyes, Tachi beckoned Xiao to turn with him and walk down a dirt path away from Inazuma City.
Xiao’s hands were sweaty.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this nervous. And why? What did he have to be worried about? It was just Tachi. The person he had already confessed to having feelings for before. Someone who admitted to feeling those same things. They’d even already confessed to each other, albeit that had been years ago and with someone who Xiao wasn’t sure he could call “Tachi” anymore.
They didn’t talk for most of the walk. Tachi led him through fields of grass, underneath sweet-smelling lavender melon trees, and over a slim bridge suspended above a riverbank.
The air got thicker as they went. Laced just lightly with electro and fog. When they arrived at the first bright red archway, Xiao turned toward Tachi and nodded.
“Stay close. I don’t want any bake-tanuki messing with you.”
“What?”
“They’re these little raccoon-like creatures that cause trouble for people. But don’t call them that or they might get upset.”
“Tachi,” Xiao murmured.
Tachi had been strutting ahead of him, his chin lifted up toward the trees. What was he looking at? Tachi was just a little too fast for him, moving in wide strides. Xiao reached out for his hand, effectively freezing Tachi between one step and another.
“Hm?” Tachi hummed.
“We need to talk.”
“Now?” Tachi asked. His jaw dropped. “Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”
“No, that’s not it. It’s something else.”
“Should I be sitting down for this?” Tachi asked, a little mischief edging into his expression.
“Perhaps,” Xiao said, a hopeful smile escaping his lips.
“Okay. Over here.”
Tachi approached an old stump and sat down. Something nearby skittered away, paws scampering across forest brush as Xiao joined Tachi at his side.
Tachi didn’t betray any of his thoughts as Xiao studied his expression. He didn’t look as worried as Xiao felt, with Xiao’s hands still clammy and his chest constricted with nerves.
Xiao swallowed but the lump in his throat didn’t disappear.
He’d already confessed once before. Why was this so difficult? He glanced down at Tachi’s chest for a second, trying to collect his thoughts, when he noticed the bright red of the knot he’d made for Tachi so many years ago.
It glowed from the plants and clouds around them, covering even his vision. Freedom— that’s what anemo symbolized. But the knot? Its significance Xiao could not remember. He hoped it reminded Tachi of love.
Xiao thought again about Lantern Rite and how lonely it had felt without Mochou. He thought about the qingxin Xiao had plucked for him and the way Mochou’s eyes lit up whenever he saw them. Xiao remembered the whisper of Tachi’s voice over late nights in his coma, how Xiao had unknowingly reached for it, exploring all manner of place as Tachi read descriptions aloud to him about them.
He loved the gentle whisper of Tachi’s voice, a sound reserved just for him, a secret pleasure he cherished without ever thinking twice how lucky he was to have it.
Tachi didn’t make him feel ashamed or embarrassed even where Zhongli’s words had brought him to tears. Tachi had done so much for him already, even willing to return to the deepest, darkest days of his past in the hopes of uncovering a brighter future.
“Xiao?” Tachi whispered.
“Tachiyaku,” Xiao said finally. His face felt warm. “Thank you so much for bringing me to Inazuma.”
“Why do you sound like you’re saying goodbye?”
“I’m not,” Xiao said, throwing his head back up quickly enough to cause whiplash. “It’s just, I don’t know to say it.”
Tachi didn’t say anything. His thin eyebrows drew up, his eyes wide and bright and worried.
He wasn’t supposed to be worried, too.
Xiao reached for Tachi’s hands and held them in his. His hands still shook, a little nervous, as Tachi ran a thumb over his knuckles. The tenderness only made him feel more self-conscious.
“I… I love you,” Xiao said. He averted his gaze, squeezing Tachi’s fingers instead. “And I want you to love me, too. I want you to kiss me like… like they do, and…”
Was Xiao allowed to be this selfish? Would Tachi understand? Or was Xiao being foolish, stating the obvious like this? Sure, Tachi had held him before and been nothing but the definition of his home away from home, but Xiao could understand if Tachi didn’t want to spend his love on a slaughterer.
Even if he wasn’t supposed to call himself that anymore.
“And?” Tachi whispered.
Xiao forced him to look at Tachi once more. He was much too good at training his expressions, the eyes staring back at him studious, the lips drawn into a thoughtful line.
“And I want to be your partner,” Xiao said. “I want to travel to Snezhnaya as your lover.”
“Oh,” Tachi said. “Oh.”
“You don’t have to come if you feel differently. I would understand if it’s only platonic to you.”
“No, this is good. I’m glad you had the courage to confess like this,” Tachi said. “I want that, too. More than anything. I’ve just felt so hesitant to do anything because I don’t want to encroach. Ever since I came back, I can’t get it out of my head how you must have felt while I was away.”
“Don’t hold back anymore,” Xiao said. “There is no more time for that. The past is in the past.”
“I know,” Tachi said. “If these are to be your last days, then I promise, I’ll love you as much as you can handle. No more restraint.”
“Thank you,” Xiao said with a sigh of relief.
“You’re much too good for me, being so patient while I try to figure out my own feelings,” Tachi said.
“I was going to say that,” Xiao said, this time exasperated, rolling his eyes.
Tachi laughed. “Some things still haven’t changed.”
He was so beautiful when he laughed.
Xiao squeezed his hands again. Before Tachi, Xiao had never encountered a human he considered “beautiful.” He didn’t understand what other people meant by it, but when he laid his eyes on that violet-indigo hair and the pair of bright, crystalline eyes flecked with red on the edges of his lashes, it made Xiao’s heart smile.
Xiao leaned in first, closing his eyes, as his grip tightened in Tachi’s hands.
His lips were soft. Sure. The hands that had been grasped in his slid up the length of his arm and rested against his tattooed bicep. A squeeze brought a flush to Xiao’s cheeks, and when he leaned away, Tachi was grinning.
“I’d been wanting to do that for a long time,” Tachi whispered.
“Do it again,” Xiao said.
Tachi pressed his lips against Xiao’s cheeks, then again and again, working his way from Xiao’s jaw and ending with a final peck on his lips. Xiao laughed, bubbles rising from his stomach, his diaphragm constricting with each chuckle. This was a sensation he was not sure he had ever felt before.
“How does your karmic debt feel about that?” Tachi asked.
“I feel okay,” Xiao said. “It will not last, but that’s okay.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling a little better,” Tachi said. He dropped his hands back into Xiao’s lap. “People back home are worrying about you. Madame Ping came to me in a dream to check up on you.”
“She did not need to go through that trouble…”
“I know, but she did anyway. How could anyone help it when it’s you? I would have done the same.”
“I… thank you,” Xiao said, pulling himself back to his manners before he fell into another negative slump. After all, he and Tachi had made promises not to talk bad of themselves anymore.
“Are we ready now? For Snez?” Tachi asked.
“Are you ready?” Xiao asked.
“Yes. I’m not afraid. After all, nobody’s going to recognize me, aside from Traveler if they really are already out there.”
“I hope we run into them.”
“I hope so, too.”
Tachi and Xiao exchanged another stare. And then Xiao leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss against Tachi’s cheek.
The next time they danced, he hoped it would be more fun.
Tachi rose onto his legs and pulled Xiao onto his feet after him. “It’s just a little farther this way,” Tachi said.
Xiao held Tachi’s gently in his as he followed him away from the path and into a field of grass where small bulblike plants glowed and painted the space bright blues and whites that matched Tachi’s outfit. They ducked under a tree, turned with needle accuracy around a rock, and wound up in front of an archway similar to the others. People not looking too closely would probably not notice, through the fog and gentle glow, that it was made of silver.
A thin sheen stretched across the gate and sparkled in the sunlight. Xiao felt energy pulsing through it. Apparently it was still active?
“Are you ready?” Tachi asked, turning toward Xiao once more.
“Yes.”
“Good. Then let’s go,” Tachi said, and took a step forward.
Notes:
That wraps up Part 3!!! tysm for reading, as usual!! I didn't post last night because I started rereading and couldn't stop. Gah, I hope you're ready to lose your heart at least two more times. 😭
Have a good day/timezone!
And goodbye, Heizou. Until we meet again. (I really liked the Heizou & Xiao friendship, what can I say 😭)
Chapter 32: In Snow-Tipped Lands
Summary:
Tachi and Xiao explore the frigid lands of Snezhnaya.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Part IV: The Past Shatters Like Glass
A rush of cold hit Xiao as soon as they stepped through the portal.
He shuddered, hand already leaving Tachi’s to reach around his shoulders and rub at his exposed skin to keep it warm. Wind lashed at his cheeks in a sudden gust that made him stiffen like a board.
“Hold on,” Tachi said, and before Xiao knew what had happened, Tachi squeezed Xiao’s ears into a black wool hat and slung a thick black scarf around his neck.
“What is this?” Xiao asked.
“It’s to keep you warm. I brought you a jacket, too,” Tachi said.
Tachi pushed the jacket around Xiao’s shoulders.
It was another hanfu only this time much thicker than the silk one Xiao had worn before. It stopped just short of his wrists, though Xiao had his gloves on anyway, so that was no issue. Xiao reached around, however, to pluck the armor off his shoulder to keep it from tearing any fabric. Xiao sent it away to the same place where he was keeping his spear for easy summoning.
“Does that feel alright?” Tachi asked.
“Yes,” Xiao said, shoving the scarf down to keep it out of his mouth. He looked around as snow dusted his eyelashes. He didn’t see much beyond the haze aside from silhouettes that looked like they might be buildings. “Where are we?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say the Snezhnayan tundra. There used to be a small village-slash-outpost in this area but I don’t know what happened to it. Probably it isn’t in use anymore so the place fell into disrepair,” Tachi said.
“Can you tell where we are supposed to go next?”
Tachi took another glance around. Xiao followed him. All around, all he saw was frost and white from impending snow. When Xiao felt the stinging fleck of cold on his cheek, he shuttered, drawing Tachi’s scarf closer. He felt the weight of Tachi’s hand on his arm and turned.
“Are you cold? Do you need my kimono?” Tachi asked.
Xiao shook his head. After all, he doubted that was going to be much use to him, as thin as it was. And Tachi had already given him a hanfu.
“Let’s just get going. There’s no time to dawdle.”
“Right.”
A hand struck out, stroking the ridges of a destroyed half-wall beside them. Xiao hadn’t noticed it at first, given it was as white as the ground and short enough to be mistaken for a mound of snow. Upon second glance, Xiao noticed more of the structures, destroyed rubble and cracked bricks underneath their feet. If he looked even closer, squinting through the fuzzing karmic pain in his corneas, he saw a gray haze on the horizon. Perhaps the treeline of a forest? Or the walls of a civilization?
“Okay, I know where we are,” Tach said. “There’s only wilds out that direction.”
He crossed what was left of the dusted pathway and stopped at an intact wooden sign.
“It’s spring but it seems that Snez didn’t get the memo,” Tachi said. He pointed. “We’ll go that way. It’ll be sundown soon and I don’t want us to be caught unawares. We need to seek better shelter.”
Xiao nodded and took a step forward. Tachi led the way, his steps sure as he tromped through the thin layer of white. More cold kissed Xiao’s face and he grimaced. It was already beginning to snow.
A million questions ran through Xiao’s mind but he raised none of them.
Wasn’t Tachi cold, too? Was it really okay to be walking around in just geta? And what about the path? Why walk directly opposite the copse of trees instead of toward it, unless that was the “wilds” Tachi had mentioned before? How long would they have before darkness arrived?
Xiao wondered how much Tachi held back or his sake. Tachi would probably already be there by now if it weren’t for his beleaguered partner. Xiao’s breathing became more labored with each step and his teeth began to chatter. Unable to help himself, Xiao reached up to stroke warmth back into his arms, hugging himself.
When Tachi stopped, shame settled in the pit of Xiao’s stomach. Xiao froze next to him, studying the flat, barren landscape ahead of them. It was getting darker out. Tachi’s hair looked more like a deep, rich navy than sun-kissed violet.
“Hey,” Tachi said.
Xiao hummed in acknowledgement.
Tachi stepped forward and swallowed him in a hug. Warmth surged into him, all-encompassing like an evening bath. Xiao sucked in Tachi’s familiar scent and curled his hands into his kimono, the fingers already beginning to swell from the sudden shock of the heat. He opened his lips and pressed a slow kiss to the nape of Tachi’s neck, catching hair in his mouth. But he didn’t mind.
Tachi pulled back, the comfort sucked from Xiao once more.
“Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” Tachi said. “Just a little bit longer.”
Xiao nodded.
“By the way, what do you want for dinner?”
“Whatever you make will be good. Although I don’t suspect you brought ingredients for much.”
“I have my ways,” Tachi said. “I’m no adeptus but I’ve managed to store some things in my own miniature ‘teapot.’ Do you have one, by the way?”
“No,” Xiao said. “I do not need one. Wangshu Inn is already my home and I don’t own so many things as to need a place to store them.”
“I suspected that.”
Tachi fell quiet and Xiao frowned. He stuck close by, body once more returning to trembling, as they trudged through accumulated snow.
Xiao saw the faint glow of neon on the back of Tachi’s hands when they arrived at their shelter at sundown.
“Shelter” might have been too generous a word.
But it was the best they had encountered in all the traveling they had done thus far, so Xiao would take it.
It was another cluster of destroyed buildings, though this time done seemingly intentionally. Only one two-story building near the center of the rubble remained largely untouched aside from a missing roof. Tachi entered first, conducted a quick inspection, then grabbed Xiao from the doorway to lead him to a tiny, but intact, room branching off from the detritus-filled living area. That’s where, Xiao learned, the ceiling had ended up on the weathered carpet.
In their new room, Xiao noted an intact ceiling and four sturdy stone walls. Even the door remained, though it had fallen off its hinges. Once Xiao entered, Tachi blocked the door back up.
Only a metal frame remained of the bed. A collapsed bookshelf and books would provide useful kindling, although Tachi only collected the old planks and left the books alone.
“I doubt it’ll take much to keep this room heated but we’ll see,” Tachi said. “It we need more, I can forage.”
Xiao frowned. “Is there anything I can do?”
“You can not freeze to death,” Tachi said.
“Let me help cook at least.”
“You can help me boil the water once I get the fire started.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re too independent?” Xiao asked. “We are doing this together. So, let me help.”
“You’re right. I’m being unreasonable.”
“It’s okay,” Xiao said. “Just tell me what to do.”
In hindsight, Xiao understood why Tachi hadn’t asked for help. The karmic debt made it difficult to do even small movements without feeling a pang of pain in the corresponding area. And the cooking that he once thought would be so simple was still as complicated as the last time he had tried.
None of Tachi’s instructions that he claimed would be so clarifying helped at all, especially when it came to making the broth. But Tachi supplied a patient, steady hand when needed, sometimes putting his hand over Xiao’s to guide the ladle through the pot or slice tomatoes into chunks using a sharp knife.
By the time they finished, Xiao’s warmth had been restored while the stiffness in his shoulders worsened after sitting in front of the pot for so long.
They moved onto the floor, Xiao’s legs stretched out to soak up the warmth from the fire. Tachi sat beside him, scooping spoonfuls of goulash into his mouth.
“How is it?” Xiao asked.
“You did a great job,” Tachi said.
Somehow, that affirmation stirred Xiao’s appetite back to life. He scooped more spoonfuls into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.
They ate accompanied by the wind outside, the crackle of the fire, and the smacking of their lips. Xiao leaned into the warm presence of Tachi’s shoulder at his side. Once his stomach couldn’t take any more, Xiao set the empty bowl aside and reached for Tachi.
Tachi hugged him again and he sighed.
“Are you feeling better?” Tachi asked as he pulled away again.
“Yes.”
“How bad it is?”
“Not as terrible as I had expected. I feel alright.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Tachi said. “It sounds like it’s stabilizing.”
Xiao had much the same thought. It had first occurred to him when he had visited Tatarasuna with Heizou and Kazuha. The voices, though still present, were not as loud. Xiao grew cautiously hopeful that maybe they would be able to complete the rest of this journey without any major issues.
“Is Snezhnaya always like this?” Xiao asked.
“Like what?”
“Always so cold and barren. I have never seen a place so abandoned by humans before.”
Xiao always knew humans to be an industrious, stubborn sort, willing to settle in places despite the risks it set for them. He thought faintly of the Chasm back in Liyue and of the lightning and thunder back on the islands in Inazuma.
“They still populate in some places, just not here because no crops will grow and there’s no water,” Tachi said. “No matter where humans settle, those are the basic two requirements. Or at least access to trade with people who have those resources. It’s no wonder there’s not really any cities aside from the capital. It’s difficult to establish settlements anywhere else.”
That made sense. Xiao’s lips drew into a thin line. Too used was he to people everywhere, traveling from the inn up to the harbor without any major worry of inclement weather or monsters getting in their way. Yes, it had been a little too ignorant of him to assume that other places would be the same. Sometimes he forgot about the war and all that he had fought to make that easier life in Liyue possible for its people. It had not always been like that.
“I haven’t been back since I tried to erase myself from Irminsul. Even as the wanderer, I had never traveled out this far,” Tachi said. “I remember I used to hate it, though.”
“Is there anything you miss about it?” Xiao asked.
“No, not that I can think of,” Tachi said. “I think there might have been a short period there where I almost convinced myself that I liked the solitude. But that feeling quickly passed. Any time spent by myself was just more time spent thinking festering thoughts about… about things I don’t want to talk about.”
“You don’t have to talk about them if you aren’t ready.”
“Thank you,” Tachi said. He reached for the bowl he had set at his side and returned it to his lap. “We should probably get ready to rest. It’s going to be another long day tomorrow.”
Xiao didn’t feel tired yet but he knew he ought to preserve as much energy as he could for tomorrow. He watched Tachi rise to his feet and fetch his bowl, too, before approaching the fire to deal with the remaining food.
He cleared his throat only once Tachi finished stowing their things away and stoking the fire. When Tachi’s eyes fell on Xiao, there was no smile there, although Xiao had the impression Tachi was hopeful for something. Or maybe that was just what Xiao wanted to believe.
“Feel okay?” Tachi asked.
Xiao nodded.
“Did you have a preference on where to sleep?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Here.”
Tachi extended his open palms to Xiao. A second later, a folded-up mat appeared in his hands. He knelt down, preparing to lay it out when Xiao cleared his throat.
“Let me,” Xiao said.
Tachi hummed and moved his hands away.
Xiao finished spreading out the mat and lay down on it. As expected, the thin material brushed against the cold stone floor underneath. At least it was smooth. Tachi pulled the kimono off his shoulders and moved as if to swathe Xiao in it.
“You don’t need to do that,” Xiao said.
“But I want to.”
Xiao sighed and closed his eyes. Tach placed the kimono over him and shuffled to sit at his side. Would there come a day where Tachi tired of doing that?
When Xiao opened his eyes again, Tachi had crossed his legs and stared at Xiao through slimmed eyes. Xiao stared into the faint glimmering lavender.
“What?” Tachi asked.
“Share the bedroll with me,” Xiao said.
Tachi got up and shuffled down to rest beside him. Tachi wedged Xiao in between him and the wall but he didn’t mind. The world already felt ten times warmer with him there.
“Better?” Tachi whispered.
Xiao hummed.
The first time they had embraced like this, things had been so different. With time developed a new familiarity to the weight of Tachi’s body beside him. The stillness that had once felt so alien now came as a unique comfort. Xiao closed his hands around Tachi’s waist and Tachi jerked. Xiao flinched, too, and retracted his hands.
“No, it’s okay,” Tachi said. “I was just unprepared.”
“I won’t do it again,” Xiao said.
Tachi tutted, a quick click of his lips, then brought Xiao’s hands up to his cheeks. Though blood didn’t pump underneath his skin, something did. Perhaps anemo? Electro?
“Do it again,” Tachi whispered. “Do it as many times as you want.”
Xiao swallowed the lump in his throat. His hands coasted toward the nape of Tachi’s neck and he rested the thumbs underneath Tachi’s ears. Violet hair brushed against his knuckles. It would never get longer than this since his hair didn’t grow. He didn’t blink and his cheeks didn’t flush with color.
But even Xiao, for all the times he’d struggled to read other people’s moods before, knew “this.” It was want, a desire settling tightly around Xiao’s heart that reflected in Tachi’s eyes like flickering lights.
Tachi closed the distance between them with a kiss. Tachi’s lips were chapped but warm. It went slowly, mouths working together, fingers pressing into skin.With anyone else, Xiao would be worried about the karma. But as with everything else, Tachi was an exception.
Xiao broke first to breathe. Tachi’s hands slid from Xiao’s clothed hips to underneath his shirt. But because his hands were warm, Xiao didn’t shutter.
Not even when Tachi’s lips returned, this time to peck his forehead where the huadian mark rested.
Tachi’s lips left a warm, sparking trail from Xiao’s forehead to his cheeks down to his collarbone. Xiao’s heart sped up, relishing in every brush, pulsing and stuttering in suspense at where Tachi’s affection would travel next.
Xiao rested his hands near Tachi’s bellybutton in the meantime. Er, or, where one would be if he had one.
Tachi’s kisses ended with Xiao’s arms. He started at a shoulder and traveled down only a short way, hands beckoning for Xiao to lift the warm skin for easier access.
Xiao seethed, accentuated by a wince, and begrudgingly remained in place.
“Sorry,” Tachi said.
“It’s okay. I’m just tired,” Xiao said.
“Today was a long day.”
Tachi reached for Xiao’s hips and pulled him close. Xiao gasped at how easily he slid into Tachi’s arms and how quickly Tachi’s legs folded around his. Tachi dropped his head onto Xiao’s shoulder and kissed the nape of his neck.
“Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning,” Tachi whispered.
Xiao hummed in agreement, sucking in more of Tachi’s warm smell.
“Hey.”
Tachi’s voice emerged underneath a thick cloak of exhaustion. Xiao’s jaw dropped open in a lethargic yawn. Cold swept in, traveling down his tongue and into his throat. Xiao jerked up in bed, hacking out a cough.
Xiao’s skin blistered over with an unexpected warmth. In his ears, a fire crackled. In his peripheral vision, a blurry hand receded.
“Morning,” Tachi’s voice called.
Xiao looked over.
Tachi stoked a crackling fire, poking charred wood with a stick. Only the thin mesh of his outfit hugged his slim frame. It felt as though the world was shivering. Though Tachi was standing still, Xiao thought he saw him moving. Xiao swallowed. It burned on the way down.
“Ready for breakfast?”
Xiao nodded. He crawled toward the fire, shedding the extra outer layers of clothing as he went.
Tachi tutted. “Are you asking to get hypothermia?”
“I’ll be fine,” Xiao snapped back.
Tachi sighed. Xiao reached for an unattended bowl Tachi had left nearby and leaned forward to fill it with stew from the pot in the center.
Tachi fetched his kimonos and other articles back. The letter Heizou had given Xiao slipped out and hit the floor. White cream stared up at them, stamped with the electro insignia.
Xiao met Tachi’s gaze and snatched up the letter.
“This is yours,” Xiao said.
“Oh, is it, now?” Tachi asked. In his hands, he straightened out the pan chang knot Xiao had made for him. “I can only guess who it’s from.”
“I intended to tell you at a better time.”
“I don’t think such a time exists,” Tachi said. “Go ahead, open it.”
“I didn’t think you’ll want to know what it has to say.”
“You’re right.” Tachi leaned forward. “You read it first, then we’ll see.”
Xiao sucked in a breath. His hands shook against his will, either from the wrath inside him, the cold, or both. The paper crinkled as he unfolded it, revealing the two sheets written in sharp penmanship.
Dear Tachiyaku,
In Inazuma, cherry blossom trees represent the impermanent nature of life. A long time ago, their blooming periods used to be very short. When they were in bloom, my sister, Makoto, would go out every day with her parasol and watch them.
Makoto admired many parts of life that I took for granted. She savored each moment as it happened where I thought there would be time to savor it later.
Looking back on it, I know that she was right to appreciate things the way she did. Do not take for granted the gentle pink of a sakura blossom tree, for as soon as its blooms have ended you will miss it more than you had when they bathed Inazuma City with their color.
Later, once Makoto passed, electrogranum began to preserve the blooms year-round. Although I did not know it at the time, the sacred sakura tree, too, contributed to this.
I suppose I’m writing to you about this because you remind me of her in some ways. I see my protectiveness in you for the things I care about. But I also see a passion Makoto oft kept hidden within herself. It shines so brightly in you— that way that you would go to any lengths possible to defend the things you care about, even if they are just some cherry blossom petals.
For too long I took for granted my position and the power it holds over my country. You, along with the rest of Inazuma, have moved on without me.
I don’t want it to be so. I see so much potential in you and it would be a waste not to at least attempt to foster it.
Ever since you left, I could not stop thinking about you. What does Inazuma look like through your eyes? What have you seen of it in my absence?
I think you would have liked Makoto. Likely more than you like me.
At any rate, however, I will keep in touch.
Sincerely,
Ei
Xiao looked up. Tachi’s fingers sifted through the red tassel, revealing short fingernails. Xiao remembered a comment long ago about fingerprints being carved into Mochou’s thin shell. How, even though he was a puppet, someone had gone through the laborious task of making sure he appeared human.
“It says that—” Xiao started.
“Wait,” Tachi interrupted.
He leaned forward and plucked the letter from Xiao’s hand. Xiao watched with hope as Tachi flipped the letter open again—
—And promptly tossed it into the fire between them.
Xiao bit the inside of his mouth, sending a shock to his sleep-addled mind.
“You can tell me after all of this is finished,” Tachi said.
“And what happens if I don’t make it?”
“Then what’s the point of paying her any mind? You had the letter because everyone knows I wouldn’t accept it. Get through this and as a special treat I’ll subject myself to as much of her as you want.”
“You should do this because you want to, not because I’m making you.”
“You’re the reason I do anything nowadays.”
“Tachi,” Xiao chided.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Just… never mind. Let’s finish breakfast and get going.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to let you get away with that.”
“With what?” Tachi asked.
“Be mature about this and say what you mean. Just refuse to talk to her.”
Tachi’s lips slimmed into a line that curved down into a frown.
“I’ll give it some time,” Tachi said.
Xiao’s eyebrows curled up in worry. Didn’t he just tell Tachi not to do this on his behalf? Then why still insist on considering it?
“Why are you not saying no?” Xiao asked.
“Because… because I believe in giving people second chances.”
“But you will only grant that second chance if I survive?”
Tachi sighed, long and heavy, and nestled his hands in between his thighs. He averted Xiao’s gaze at first, eyes glancing off to the door or to the snowed-over concrete beneath them.
“I don’t feel like I could face her without you there. If you don’t make it, then I don’t want to experience that confrontation alone.”
“Oh.”
Xiao frowned. He’d been expecting a more abstract explanation than that. Something more confusing that he’d have to dig to understand the meaning of. But that explanation made some sense to him, he supposed. He had felt similarly in situations in his own life. Even among friends, it could be difficult to get the right words out unless the right person was sitting at your side.
Tachi cleared his throat. “Are you ready for breakfast or not?”
Xiao nodded.
“Then let me work and I’ll have something prepared for us shortly.”
Tachi finished cooking them breakfast. He made more goulash, heating stew over the fire and then ladling spoonfuls into Xiao’s bowl until it was almost to overflowing.
Xiao struggled to lift the spoon to his mouth. It was not that heavy and yet his arm shook at the movement. When the first spoonful in his stomach, his body grumbled for more, so insatiable that he feared it didn’t matter how much food he put into it, it would never be enough.
The cold returned to his bones and he shuttered. Tachi slipped out of his kimono again and handed it over. With a hesitant glance, Xiao accepted it and pulled it on around his shoulders.
It didn’t make him feel any warmer.
His body was shutting down. It would not be much longer now.
How was he going to go out? Would it be an intense flurry of power, as it was with Indarias and Bonanus? Or would it be as it had been for Bosacius, more like the quiet fizzle of a candle’s last flame before it was put out forever?
For Tachi’s sake, Xiao hoped it was the latter. It felt more like the latter, too. He had felt the karmic debt climb into his soul once before and then it had been a furious sort of pain, blazing and scorching its way through him, leaving no coherent thoughts behind. He could not even remember how he had survived it the first time. So much of his life had been bloodshed then that he could hardly remember anything else.
Actually, the only other thing he could remember were the faces of his old family.
Regardless which way he went, the overflow of emotions was imminent. He could already feel the unmistakeable creep of fear edging into his mind, carving out a space where coherent thoughts used to go.
When Xiao heard the call of his name, he flinched and looked up. A blurred silhouette of Tachi looked at him and reached out to confiscate his bowl.
“We’re going to keep walking while you’re still capable of standing on your feet. You can still do that, right?” Tachi asked.
His voice, once again, sounded underwater. Xiao nodded, which threw his vision into a dizzy spell. He made to stand up, an arm extended to keep his balance as he rose onto shaky legs. Xiao’s hand reached out for the wall near him, which helped steady him and his dizziness.
“I didn’t mean right now,” Tachi grumped.
Xiao grimaced.
“Sorry. Just give me a second and then we’ll go.”
Tachi kept a wary eye on Xiao as he stood rigidly with his back against the wall. He brought out his spear, not to fight but to use as a walking stick. Overnight, the karmic debt had worsened. It hung from the tips of his hair like steam evaporating off the cool air. His eyes, usually so bright and sharp, looked glassier than usual.
A part of Tachi considered offering to carry him the rest of the way but anticipated the refusal he’d get from a prideful adeptus who had fought on his own for so long. Tachi knew that the trip to Inazuma had been its own exceptions to Xiao’s usual pride, and he didn’t want to risk Xiao’s wellness worsening because he got frustrated with having to rely so heavily on others.
He did, in fact, look more frustrated than usual. His nose scrunched up on his face and his eyebrows knitted over his brow in what Tachi could only assume was pain.
Tachi finished cleaning up the campsite quickly and stowed everything away. He left nothing of use behind and cleaned the pot and utensils with steamed water and a whirl of anemo. Once he sent them away to be stored, he stood and gestured Xiao out into the wilderness beyond once more.
Once they left the dilapidated room, Tachi and Xiao didn’t speak.
Tachi led the way, Xiao keeping pace at his shoulder. The world was brighter today than it had been yesterday and had this lingering feeling that they weren’t alone. Yesterday, it had felt like a barren wasteland, a place untouched by humans for decades, aged over with death and cold. But today, Tachi found shoe prints in the snow ahead of them. Human shoe prints, if he had to guess. He didn’t, after all, take the Tsaritsa as the sort to take trips out of the city often.
They encountered a small human encampment with one stone tower looking over what might have been a village at some point. But now it was only one of the Tsaritsa’s many lookout points, and a barren one at that, occupied by only five men taking turns at the top of it.
Tachi wanted to laugh when they approached and heard the deep-voiced “Halt!” coming from the top of the aforementioned tower. That guard was the most sturdily built of all the men but still a grunt. And despite them being in a position most suited for an archer, Tachi didn’t see a bow or quiver on the man’s back.
“We’re just passing through,” Tachi shouted up to them. “No need to get your undies in a twist.”
He had gotten so used to bossing the lower grunts around throughout the years that now having to literally look up to one for permission to do anything irked him. If he had blood, surely it would have begun to boil.
“What reason do you have to be passing through this area?” Another one of the guards asked.
He took a step forward and Xiao brought his spear out. Tachi had been hoping to avoid confrontation as much as he could. Not really for his sake but more for Xiao’s. For the sake of his sanity.
“We mean no harm. My friend and I are here on the behest of the ninth fatui harbinger,” Tachi said. “We’re returning from Liyue after acquiring documents he requested from Northland Bank.”
“Only classified men are allowed information about that. And you do not bear the appearance of Snezhnayan men,” one man pointed out.
“Pantalone requested that we go undercover. If you have a problem with his orders, you can take it up with him. Now. Do you want me to deliver these documents or not?” Tachi asked.
The men glanced at each other. After a second, one dropped the posture in their shoulders and gestured Tachi and Xiao toward the rest of the path.
“Go on ahead, if you’re so insistent. But just know that all awaits you out there is cold and death,” one man said. A chuckle followed his words and he waved his spear in their direction. At Tachi’s side, he noticed Xiao stiffen. “If you’re really here for what you say you are, then you’ll have no issue getting through the lands. But if you’re the cheater I expect you are, then rifthounds will be nipping at your ankles before you know it.”
The man had no right sounding so smug about that. He was, unfortunately, right. But it would be a moot point so long as they managed to get through the next leg of their journey quickly.
Without another word, Tachi took another step forward, Xiao trailing behind him, his footsteps crunching in the snow as more began to fall from the sky.
On the horizon, a gray mist began to settle and clouds rolled in where the sunlight had previously refracted off the snow and made the world blindingly white.
It looked like they would be in for a snowstorm.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!!!!! Welcome to the final part!!
I was literally editing the next chapter today, soo... Gotta light a fire under my ass 😭 I'm very excited for what's to come next, though!! Let's goo!!
I also had plans to draw more art but uhh I've been distracted lately with trying to write so we shall see what happens.
Chapter 33: Center of Gravity
Summary:
Tachi and Xiao encounter some trouble on their way to Snezhnaya.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The longer Xiao and Tachi traveled, the worse the weather became. Cold gathered on Xiao’s hair and clothing and began to melt from his warmer body heat, which only succeeded at making him wet and cold.
Xiao couldn’t bring himself to walk another step.
He felt his mouth pooling with liquid that he had first assumed was spit but upon swallowing realized was blood. The metallic taste could be nothing else. He found himself ramming his spear down into the cold earth as more snow fell, the chill snaking its way around his bones and leaving a frozen chill behind that stiffened his legs and made it difficult to wrench his heavy spear up.
He hated that he resorted to using it as one would a walking cane. He hated how Tachi’s footsteps stalled and he paused to look back at Xiao when he fell too far behind.
“We can rest,” Tachi was probably saying but Xiao could no longer hear his voice over the wind that steadily picked up around them.
If Xiao did not pay close enough attention, Tachi could easily melt away into the background, just like a raindrop in a puddle. He was already plenty of blue and white hues to blend in well.
Xiao dropped onto his knee, attempting to keep his position as noble as he could given the circumstances, and sucked in a breath. The air scraped his throat on the way down to his lungs. He seethed, once again feeling the sharp metallic taste on his tongue.
A hand touched his shoulder and he jerked away. Tachi’s voice found him beneath a mountain of other sounds and feelings.
“We’ll… soon,” Tachi’s voice sputtered into Xiao’s head.
Xiao nodded, his grip tightening around his spear as he attempted to keep from teetering onto his side.
Tachi lifted him onto his feet and supported his side as they continued walking.
Xiao couldn’t tell how long they must have been walking for.
Each second felt torturous. Would there be an end? When would it come? If he closed his eyes and gave in to the darkness, would it end as it had last time, with him waking to Tachi leaned over him in bed, resting? Or would it be the last time he ever sucked in air?
He did not remember much of the rest of their journey. He only regained some consciousness once they came upon a cave and saw the bright spark of embers as Tachi knocked flint together. Tachi managed to start a fire as Xiao reeled at the bright pulse of color still flickering across his eyesight.
He collapsed more than sat down with his back against the wall, his spear dropping beside him as he sucked in sharp breaths. His mouth filled once more with wet and he swallowed, feeling the burn as it traveled down into his starving stomach. Xiao’s eyes coasted to the place beside him where a pile of snow had gathered. Without another thought, he scooped some of it into his palm and brought it to his mouth.
The cold of the snow numbed his mouth as it traveled down his throat to his stomach. But it melted on the way, too, and the melt reminded him too much of the dreams he used to consume. Those times had come with much hardship. He used to often eat snow then, too, and it had been one of the only comforts he had been able to access to stave off not only hunger but the pain. Better to numb everything than to let it chip away at him until he was driven to insanity.
Xiao’s hand reached down again and scooped more snow from the pile at his hip. He brought more to his mouth, tooth catching on a piece of ice that crunched between his back molars.
“What are you doing?”
Tachi’s voice shocked Xiao back to reality and he flinched. He looked at Tachi’s blurred figure standing over him in what looked like a pose with his hands on his hips.
“I am eating snow,” Xiao said.
“Don’t do that. We have real food.”
“I will do what I want,” Xiao snapped back.
“Sure, I know that, I just—” Tachi interrupted himself and knelt down at Xiao’s side. He reached for Xiao’s hand and brushed melted frost off his fingertips. “You’re going to freeze your fingers off if you keep doing that.”
Xiao licked his lips as the craving hit him again. With it, too, he felt a surge of annoyance. Who was Tachi to tell him what he could and couldn’t do? It was his body. He could do whatever he wanted with it, and if that included doing what he could to relieve his pain, then he ought to be allowed it.
Near the entrance to the cave, something scraped against stone and Xiao flinched. Before Xiao could even turn his head from their conversation, Tachi shot out an arm and knelt in front of him. Xiao scrambled for his spear, nails scraping against stone as he caught the edge of it and brought it back into his hand.
“Leave this to me,” Tachi said, spurring a growl from that same direction. “I can take care of it.”
“What is it?” Xiao asked.
He got his answer in the form of another growl. Goosebumps sprouted across Xiao’s skin and he shot to his feet.
“No—”
Tachi shouted but it was too late. Xiao rocketed toward the first rifthound he saw, a gray and golden creature whose eyes glinted beyond the frost blocking them into the mouth of the cave.
If only they had moved a little quicker. If only Tachi had chosen something more secure than the wide open mouth of a cave to seek shelter or been more prepared with Tulaytullah's Remembrance at his side. By the time Tachi had summoned it to float at his shoulder, Xiao had already tossed himself into a fight with the first rifthound he saw.
Of course they couldn’t just waltz over to Snezhnaya. There had to be a pack of rifthounds prowling out in the middle of the tundra. During a snowstorm, of all things.
Xiao moved swiftly toward the hound and planted his spear in its pelt. His spear bounced against solid rock, though that didn’t dissuade him from striking again. The rifthound twisted to bite Xiao’s arm and Xiao darted away just in time. Tachi sent scythes of anemo in its direction, aiming to break the rifthound’s stance.
Tachi’s eyes moved, searching for the next ones. Where were the whelps and the other mature rifthounds? As if sensing Tachi’s confusion, a sharp pressure bore down upon his shoulders. He twisted around with Tulaytullah's Remembrance raised high as another growl sounded. The bell rang and a bolt of electro shot from Tachi’s palm, sparking across the rifthound’s pelt like fireworks. Tachi sent a swirl of anemo after the freshly applied electro, sending the sparks across the nearest wall in bright whites and violets, barely missing Xiao and his combatant.
With the help of the windfavored state at his disposal, Tachi didn’t have a problem with zipping out of the way. He found, however, that his fire had gone out and that his fingers were beginning to freeze, only the electro left to light up the dim gray cave. When Tachi looked toward Xiao again, he saw slumped shoulders, the bright glow of an opened rifthound’s jaw, and a Nou mask.
The whelps had found Xiao.
Tachi darted toward Xiao, hearing arrows from his gales of reverie hailing down on the rifthound behind him. Tachi flew to the whelp on the outermost edge of the combat and lifted his foot up in the kyougen attack he had long ago perfected. The black-blue swirling sphere formed, Tachi brought it down upon the enemy, and it fizzled away in a burst of black and gold. At the last moment, however, Tachi heard the tear of fabric then felt sharp claws digging into his outer shell and yanking.
Claws dragged through Tachi’s kimono and down his back, forcing his teeth to grit as he turned around.
The mischievous bastard popped out of existence through a warp portal and spat itself out in front of Xiao. Tachi cursed.
“Hey—”
“Stay back,” Xiao growled.
The karmic debt oozed from him as though he’d just been wrenched from an ichor-filled pool, swirls of it dripping from his shoulders. Xiao’s voice came out husky, his spear swift and reckless. The head of the spear became Xiao’s axis upon which the rest of his body pivoted. He threw the weapon down and launched the rest of his body into the air as a whelp’s claws sliced through where he had been standing.
Tachi opened his palm and squeezed the fingers tight to summon another bolt of electro down upon the remaining rifthound but the electro knocked off its pelt like water from a leaf. It dashed forward unimpeded, the corruption crackling around it as its jaw closed around Xiao's arm.
An explosion came, but it was unlike any explosion Tachi had ever experienced before. It was dark and cold. Someone had taken a needle and popped the sun, blotting the cave in darkness. Xiao screamed and flashes of faded light entered Tachi’s vision enough for him to see a figure falling to its knees. Tachi rushed toward it, using only muted hues to navigate his way.
Just as quickly as the “explosion” had happened, it began to fade, restoring Tachi’s eyesight. Xiao rose onto his legs, the Nou mask the only spark of anemo to indicate where his eyes were amid a dark, silhouetted form.
Tachi felt pulses of the debt sparking across his frame, seeping into the wound at Tachi’s back enough for it to actually hurt. Xiao finished off the last rifthound with a blink-and-you-miss-it stab to the chest, the creature letting out one unrestrained wail before popping out of existence, taking the suffocating pressure with it.
Xiao growled and brought his hands up to his face as Tachi dropped down to kneel next to him.
"I'm here," Tachi said.
"Stay back!" Xiao shouted, the mask fading from his face, exposing a flash of white fangs and a red mouth.
He turned toward Tachi and shoved him into the ground. If Tachi had air to spare, it would have been knocked out of his chest. Xiao had claws. He never used to have those. Tachi felt them on the thin outer casing of his cheek, grinding against the artificial flesh and tearing it open. The other hand went to Tachi’s shoulder, twisting the joint forward as if attempting to wrench it from Tachi’s body.
Tachi grunted and reached up to pull Xiao’s wrists away from him but they wouldn’t budge. It felt akin to a fly trying to open a window. Xiao ripped the flesh open, exposing Tachi’s wires to the bitter cold.
“Stop,” Tachi hissed as he heard the crackle of electro before he even felt it sparking across his skin.
Ugh, not this again!
Tachi brought his leg up from where Xiao had pinned it and kicked it into Xiao’s knees. Electro shot down, barely missing Xiao, sizzling into stone at their side.
Flecks of black debt flaked off Xiao’s face. Xiao clawed through it, revealing the white pallor of his skin, the dark flecks disappearing into the cold air. Xiao cried out and fell onto his side, clutching at his face, the breaths ragged and quick. More of the flecks drifted into the air, revealing the more familiar shadow around his form that Tachi had grown accustomed to.
Though the urgency of the rifthound’s attack had abated, new fear sparked inside of Tachi as he looked down. Adeptus blood traveled toward the inside of Xiao’s arm. The white of his shirt had been torn open, revealing another slice across his stomach. Tachi couldn’t tell how deep it was, only that it was bleeding heavily, the opening full of the bright, wet, glistening blood.
“C’mon, let’s find shelter,” Tachi said.
He took a step forward. Xiao backed himself into the wall, his shoulders hitting it with a wince.
“No,” Xiao hissed. He stared at the space above Tachi’s head, his eyes jolting as if following an invisible electro seelie. “Stay back.”
“You won’t hurt me,” Tachi said. “It’s okay. Just close your eyes.”
Xiao did as he said and closed his eyes. Tachi watched as the whites flickered until they closed behind the dark wisp of malevolent energy. Tachi took another few steps forward, making his progress as quiet as he could aside from his footsteps crunching in the snow, and pulled Xiao toward his back in a piggyback position.
Tachi’s left arm dangled at his side, exposed wires pulled tautly. When Tachi lifted it, he lost all feeling from the shoulder down, only half able to bend the fingers at the sake of a sharp pang up to his neck.
He held Xiao’s legs on either side of his hips, pulling them close to keep Xiao stably pressed against his back. This way, Tachi thought, he’d be able to fly without worrying too much about Xiao’s injuries. And he could hear Xiao’s breath right in his ear as Xiao rested his chin on his shoulder.
With Xiao secure, Tachi stepped out of the cave and lifted himself up on another gale of anemo, just high enough to avoid grazing the ground with his feet so he could speed across the plains toward civilization just a little faster.
Xiao dug his hands into Tachi’s forearms and sucked in a sharp breath. Tachi felt the pulse of Xiao’s overwhelmed heart pressed against the back of his spine through the thin material that flapped in the cold gales. Tachi had stopped flying, taking a brief break to summon enough energy before moving onward again, taking wide, urgent strides toward the foreboding wall he had started to see through the frost. They had reached a part of the region where tall pine trees grew, the path familiar to Tachi’s frozen-over spine.
“We’re almost there,” Tachi said.
He set to walking again.
He remembered all the other times he had made this trek. How he used to shuffle down, slumping his shoulders like some petulant human teenager, his hands hidden away in the deep pockets of the large fur coats the Tsaritsa had provided the Harbingers like some ridiculous uniform. He had always thought it asinine that she would waste so many materials on creatures who didn’t even need it. Well, all aside from—
From Tartaglia, Tachi thought with a bitter set of his jaw.
He approached the gates, which stood strangely open. The Tsaritsa with her powerful and oh-so-beloved army would never leave her city, her capital, unprotected like this unless something was terribly wrong.
They would soon find their answer as he stepped through the giant walls, the portcullis suspended above their heads like a guillotine waiting for the right moment to fall.
Tachi didn’t see any signs of war on the city beyond. No cannonballs littering the streets, no caved-in roofs or even a scratch on the ramparts. But also no people, although Tachi thought he heard the scuttle of a peasant boy’s feet across the icy ground as he hid behind a house.
Tachi ignored the apparent lack of lifeforms, strutting toward where he vaguely remembered the hospital being.
The buildings were just as he had remembered them, which sent a sick tingle down his spine. Why did the stones have to be caked in the same layers of snow and ice and why did the banners emblazoned with the Tsaritsa’s insignia still fly so high in a place clearly ravaged by something, or at least appearing to? He noticed barrels in the middle of the streets, unattended fires crackling to keep the walkways heated.
Where were the people? The one time Tachi wanted to see some of the buggers and there was not even a breath to be seen aside from Xiao’s. Eyes peeked at him from behind boarded-up windows and curtains once Tachi set to running past a residential district. He heard children’s laughter nearby and more voices.
Before Tachi made it all the way there, however, he encountered a pair of women walking past with a basket tucked under one of the women’s arms. Upon sighting them, the woman gasped, dropping her bushel of apples. An apple nudged against Tachi’s foot as the woman brought her hands up to her mouth.
“Monster!” she shouted.
She pointed an accusing finger in Tachi’s direction and claws dug into his arm as Xiao attempted to wrench himself out of his hold.
Tachi heard doors open. He felt Xiao’s blood down his arm as Xiao struggled and he heard more screaming as children appeared at the mouth of an abridging street. Tachi tightened his grip on Xiao’s legs just enough so Xiao couldn’t break from his grip.
“You— you are the one the Tsaritsa warned us about!” A voice shouted.
“I— agh—” Xiao grunted, his voice coming out in strained cries that the citizens only registered as growls.
“You don’t hear them,” Tachi said. “They don’t understand what they’re saying!”
“He’s the monster!” A voice repeated once more.
“You don’t understand,” Tachi snapped. “Silence your tongue before—”
The woman screamed again.
She clutched at the scarf she had wrapped around her throat and pressed her lips against it. Tachi saw a glint of metal; perhaps a locket she was kissing in prayer to get rid of them? Tach bit the inside of his lip hard enough to tear at whatever framework built the inside of his cheek. The complete insolence to even suggest that they were monsters just based on their haggard appearance as if they were any better! If he had not become a better person, if Nahida had not reminded him of how ignorant and misguided humans could be, Tachi would have wanted to shut her up himself.
In this one, though, he hushed Xiao with another whisper as a head of mussed orange hair approached the woman’s side and clapped a hand down on her shoulder.
“What seems to be the problem?” he asked.
“Tartaglia,” Tachi said.
He tried to keep the hiss out of his tone, but judging by the way Tartaglia jerked backward in surprise, Tachi hadn’t done a good job.
“Let’s get your friend some medical help, shall we?” Tartaglia asked as he took a step forward.
“Please be careful!” the woman cried.
Tartaglia shot her a reassuring smile.”It’s okay, I can take care of this.”
“I will carry him,” Tachi insisted.
“This way,” Tartaglia said and gestured down the street.
So, he was here, too. Why was Tachi not surprised? He bit once more into his lip as he followed Tartaglia to one of the larger houses on the avenue. Tartaglia opened the door, revealing rows of beds. This place had probably been an orphanage before but was now a sick ward.
Tachi hustled Xiao to the farthest, emptiest corner and set him down. Xiao attempted to stand, his breath quick and sharp, as Tachi pushed him onto his back.
“It’s okay, everything is okay,” Tachi whispered. “You’re just confused and hearing things.”
“Tachi—” Xiao hissed.
“Bring me bandages,” Tachi said, looking over his shoulder toward Tartaglia. He gestured with an impatient hand toward Xiao’s bed.
“On it,” Tartaglia responded.
The medical ward wasn’t exactly warm but it would have to do for the second. Tachi ripped away any fabric blocking his way, dropping the blood-stained strips on the ground. The smell of acid clogged his nose and the sound of a child crying occupied his ears as he grabbed the bandages Tartaglia handed him and dabbed them at the side of the injury.
How did you stop someone from bleeding? Didn’t the wound need to be cauterized? Could Xiao even get infected? Was it stopping at all?
“Apply pressure, like this,” Tartaglia said.
He took another rag and leaned over Xiao’s stomach with his hands clasped together. At Xiao’s side, his fingers dug into the fabric of the blankets and twisted.
Tachi hummed and repeated the gesture with Xiao’s forearm where the heavier bleeding was coming from. The bandages soaked through completely almost immediately and Tachi scowled, tossing them aside to try fresh ones.
“He needs stitches,” Tartaglia said.
Tachi’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Really?”
Then he paused. No, he already knew this about humans. He just never thought something like that would happen to Xiao. A long time ago, in Tatarasuna, he vaguely recalled someone talking about the same thing after a forging accident where Niwa had to get a stitch in his hand.
It followed the same principles as sewing up a doll, right?
“Do you know how to sew?” Tartaglia asked.
“Let me handle this,” Tachi said, summoning his sewing kit.
The air was frigid on Tachi’s skin but he had long ago stopped caring about the frostbite nipping at his fingers. He stood with his back pressed against the cold stone of the medical ward’s wall. Inside, he still heard the faint echo of a child crying. It was night, the streets lit with only the faded light of a barrel with burning kindle inside.
When he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he wasn’t here.
He blinked again. Water fell into his eyes from the ice defrosting on his lashes. With a grunt, Tachi reached up, sweeping his hand over his eyes enough to rub them raw.
“Did I come at a bad time?”
Tartaglia had no right sounding so amused when he sidled up beside Tachi.
Tachi released a sigh that sounded more like a groaning threat to murder someone.
Tartaglia only laughed.
Tachi did not miss the sound.
In the past, he might have turned around to stretch Tartaglia’s cheeks until they became deformed on his face or at least shook his fist in Tartaglia’s direction with a well-placed threat.
Of all things, why this? Why were the memories of his past bubbling up now, like boiling water that could no longer be contained within its pot?
When in the medical ward with Xiao, Tachi’s attention had been directed only at him. Tachi and Tartaglia had worked together in silence for a long time, punctuated only by stray commands here and there for different materials or requests to keep Xiao down as he thrashed in pain. It was seldom that Tartaglia showed a soft side with anyone except his siblings, but that side of himself had peeked out again when he’d placed an ice pack on Xiao’s forehead to help rein in a fever.
Xiao was still inside now. Alone, asleep. Tachi would go back inside in a few minutes. It wasn’t like he could stand Tartaglia’s company for any extended amount of time, after all.
Tachi spared a glance down at himself. He’d swapped out the usual light blue and white hues for black and red since the back of his kimono had been torn. The last time he’d worn these colors, he’d…
No, Tachi wouldn’t finish the thought.
“You sure like to brood, don’t you?” Tartaglia teased.
“And you make a point of being excessively annoying,” Tachi said.
“How’d you know?”
“If you legitimately expect me to answer that, I hope you’re prepared to be disappointed.”
“What’s your deal?” Tartaglia asked. “Did I wrong you in a past life or something?”
“You could say that.”
Tartaglia laughed. “You’re lucky you ran into me, you know. I knew there was something different about you.”
“You did, did you?” Tachi asked. “Thanks. I am glad I ran into you. Don’t get used to hearing that.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Tartaglia said. “In return, might I ask a favor of you?”
“You can’t be serious,” Tachi said. “Becoming more like Dottore, are you?”
“How do you— never mind. After we get out of this, promise to duel me.”
Tachi brought his hand up to his temple to pinch the skin there. “Of course you would—”
“Great! Then it’s a deal!” Tartaglia shouted.
He clapped Tachi once on the back, leading him to square his jaw up in a scowl.
“It’s getting late, so I have to head out for now. I expect to see you tomorrow, yeah?” Tartaglia asked.
“Yeah,” Tachi said.
Tartaglia’s lips split into a smile and he gave Tachi one more clap on the shoulder before turning on his heel and heading down the path toward the residential district.
With a small sigh, Tachi turned back toward the entrance and stepped back inside.
Tachi had saved the last of Traveler and Tighnari’s medicine for an emergency and no time seemed better than now. He burned the last of the incense on the bedside table at Xiao’s shoulder. He had given Xiao the last of the pills earlier, helping him swallow them with a glass of water.
It had been difficult keeping the medicine from Xiao. Tachi had seen him go through so much discomfort recently with the knowledge that he could stave it off temporarily at any time. But he had been right to conserve that medicine as his final trump card. Maybe— hopefully— it would be enough to return Xiao to a stable condition.
Tachi returned from outside and rubbed his hands over his shuddering arms, trying to spark some warmth. He pulled a blanket up around his shoulders then sat down to dab the sweat off Xiao’s brow and adjust the bandages around Xiao’s arm.
To ease Tachi’s own worry about Xiao’s condition, he kept steady pressure applied to Xiao’s arm. It didn’t matter that the stitches were holding; he needed more assurance than that. Tachi sat leaned over Xiao’s bed, pressing down, sometimes with his eyes closed.
This was such a stupid idea. Of course there would be fucking rifthounds. What had he been thinking? Xiao even told him that he would still fight if given the opportunity. And without a proper healer, look at him. His hair all mussed, blood staining his cold clothing. Tachi had already layered on the extra blankets he had brought with him from Zhongli’s house. But, because Tachi worried about causing Xiao to overheat, he hadn’t layered on too many.
Around the room, Tachi heard other people groaning in pain. At least the crying he had heard before finally stopped. Maybe… maybe they didn’t go to the palace. There would be time, wouldn’t there? At least for Xiao to recover a little before they decided to move forward with anything? Because he was going to recover, wasn’t he?
The chair squeaked as Tachi shifted to let go of Xiao’s arm. Xiao heaved out a tired breath that echoed across the room. Tachi flinched.
“How are you?” Tachi whispered. He leaned in closer. “Do you need anything?”
Xiao brought his hands up to his face and wiped his eyes. He slipped off his gloves and slapped them down onto the bedsheets beside him.
“Everything hurts,” Xiao said.
“But your breathing has evened,” Tachi said, “and your eyes aren’t glassy.”
Xiao sighed and pressed hands once more over his eyes.
Tachi’s thoughts floated away from him like wind gusting through clouds. Each one touched his mind for a second before disappearing again.
Do you still want to go to Dottore? I can handle this on my own if you want to rest. But I understand you want to do this together. Are you prepared if you can’t?
“You shouldn’t come,” Tachi said. “You should stay here. Preserve the last of your strength.”
“I can do this,” Xiao said. “I am going, whether it’s the last thing I do.”
Tachi slowly exhaled, folding his hands over each other in his lap. “I knew you were going to say that. Still worth a shot, though.”
“When are we leaving?” Xiao asked.
“Not yet. We have to talk to Tartaglia tomorrow.”
“Why? You know where ‘he’ is, don’t you?”
“In theory. Are you really so inclined to toss yourself directly into that hurricane? Finding the eye isn’t going to be as easy as just waltzing through.”
“I know that.”
“You also know it matters more that you’re alive now than risking your life before you even know whether it’s worth it or not.”
“I know it’s worth it,” Xiao said. He pushed off the blankets and shuffled his legs to the side of the bed. Before Tachi had even realized what had happened, Xiao loomed over him, staring down at him with bright gold irises that made his skin crawl. “Because it’s for you.”
Tachi made to open his mouth. Then he closed it again. For him?! This was for Xiao. The journey had always been about him. Although, yes, there were wrongs Tachi had wanted to right. Such as being away too long. But that was not the same.
“Don’t do anything for me,” Tachi said. “Do it because you want to. I won’t be able to live with myself if you throw yourself into a pit of snakes just because I told you I wanted you to.”
“And yet you are the one who said before that you were never alive to begin with,” Xiao said.
“Are you trying to bring out my bad side?” Tachi asked. “Lay back down and rest. I can take care of this.”
“We came here together and we will finish this together,” Xiao said. He winced, fingers finding his hair and digging into the side of his scalp. “This whole journey, I have been very welcoming of you acting as a retainer of sorts for me. But I can’t have you coddling me the whole way.”
“I know that,” Tachi said.
He crossed his arms and looked off to the side.
What else was there to say? Xiao had made his decision. And now Tachi felt the anemo stirring up inside of him, helpfully alerting the whole room of his embarrassment.
He shouldn’t have said it like that. But how else was he supposed to say it in a way that felt right? Did such a way even exist?
Tachi remembered the last time he had “coddled” someone. He remembered the way he had held the sick boy close to him every night, finding the flutter of his heartbeat fascinating. Finding that he had wanted that for himself. He had wanted nothing more than to hold that little boy forever and never have to be away from that warm, loving beating in his chest that said, “I love you.”
Would Tachi be able to stand himself if Xiao didn’t make it through this? It wouldn’t just be Ei’s letter that didn’t matter anymore. It would be many things. Before he had even realized it, Xiao had become the center of his universe with its own special gravity.
“Tachi,” Xiao said.
Tachi looked up.
Xiao sat down and sighed heavily. “You are so good at making it seem like things don’t get to you. Sometimes, I forget that I am older than you.”
“I thought our little dialog just now would prove otherwise,” Tachi said.
“Usually you aren’t like that,” Xiao said. “You don’t need to put on a strong face for me anymore. I understand the risks just as well as you do.”
“I know,” Tachi said. “But there will be time to be tired later.”
“Maybe it would help to think of something positive,” Xiao said. “Like all the things you’ve cooked for me. Or the places we’ve been together. And the friends we’ve made.”
“Mmm, I think that mostly just makes me sad,” Tachi said.
“Why?” Xiao asked.
“If something were to happen to you, those moments would be bittersweet.”
“But bittersweet is still a little sweet.”
“This is true,” Tachi said. “It’s been so long since I lost someone close to me. I… I don’t want to know what sort of person I’ll become if something like that were to happen again.”
“You promised to right the wrongs you made, did you not?” Xiao asked. “Keep on that path.”
“It’ll be a lot lonelier if I’m treading it alone,” Tachi said.
“I want to be there with you, too.”
Tachi nodded. He leaned forward to adjust Xiao’s blankets. “You should try to rest. Preserve your energy.”
As he spoke, the door at the other side of the room opened. Tachi saw the blond mess of hair first and then that annoying fairy floating at their shoulder, exclaiming, before he even had a chance to draw in an artificial breath, “Xiao and Tachiyaku?”
Notes:
Let me never have to attempt writing a fight scene ever again (spoilers: She writes a fight scene again 😭)
Thank you so much for reading! I forgot to mention before, but these upcoming chapters are not beta-read. Rest assured I will do my best to still make them pretty, though! 😤
I feel like Xiao's "bittersweet is still a little sweet" comment is a little dorky but it fits so I'm keeping it 😆
Chapter 34: Yakshas Do Not Cry
Summary:
Tachi and Xiao spend their last day together on the eve of meeting a certain someone.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was raining out today.
Xiao stood at the edge of Qingyun Peak and peered at the valleys below, fog pooling around the lower land masses, making it look as though they were floating. The heavier rainfall had abated since the incident, and although no blood remained on Xiao’s body, he still felt the shadow of it pricking him like leeches sucking on his skin. He squeezed the Primordial Jade-Winged Spear and turned when he felt the familiar pulse of a yaksha teleporting to his side.
The only other yaksha besides himself now. The thought still chilled him.
“He will be here soon,” Bosacius’s voice called.
Xiao looked up at him, staring at the deep shadows set underneath Bosacius’s usually electro-bright eyes.
“Are you prepared if Rex Lapis asks you for a firsthand account of what happened?”
“Of course,” Xiao said. He crossed his arms, fingers digging into his forearms.
“You do not have to answer unless spoken to. I can handle most of it.”
“I understand,” Xiao said.
It had always been Bosacius’s habit to speak more than Xiao. And… and some of the others, too.
Rex Lapis appeared with a flash of geo energy as though he’d just burst through a boulder, pebbles crackling before disappearing once his presence had settled. He stopped perfectly short of the cliff, and before Xiao had even realized what was happening, Xiao had reflexively dropped into a kneel in front of him. Bosacius did the same at his side.
“Stand down,” Rex Lapis said with a lift of his hand.
Bosacius and Xiao returned to their full heights as Rex Lapis asked, “What happened?”
“Bonanus and Menogias did not make it,” Bosacius said. “They fell to the debt this morning.”
“Both of them? How did it happen?”
Bosacius’s eyes darted over to Xiao. He had been the one to see it firsthand. He had been helpless to do anything but watch, the brutality of the attack swift enough to have ended before a cry could even be wrenched from Xiao’s lips. He could have intervened but at the risk of his own life, and had not wanted the regret of Bonanus’s actions resting on her conscious if she and Menogias survived and he had not.
As both Bosacius and Xiao knew, however, both of them had died in the confrontation.
“Bonanus was driven to madness and struck Menogias,” Bosacius said. “Xiao only managed to arrive in time to witness the final killing blow. By the time he could react, Menogias had already gone and the debt was tearing Bonanus apart.”
“Was there time for a mercy killing?” Rex Lapis asked.
Xiao swallowed. Spit gathered in his throat and dropped into his stomach like acid.
“No, there was no need.”
She had vanished into thin air before him, before he could even say goodbye.
“Xiao,” Rex Lapis called. He turned around, revealing the stern set of his jaw, molten-gold eyes falling on Xiao’s stiffened form. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Xiao responded, dropping his gaze onto the grass below his feet. “I am still able to fight.”
At his shoulder, Bosacius sighed heavily but did not say anything. Xiao swallowed again. Had he said something wrong?
“The times have not been gentle to the yaksha,” Rex Lapis said. “And the Archon War has passed. I would understand if you need to suspend our contract to take care of personal matters such as bereavement.”
“This is our duty,” Bosacius said. “Demons do not understand such things as mourning. We mustn’t let this discourage us from our responsibility.”
“Of course. I will leave it to you,” Rex Lapis said. “Was there anything else?”
“No, my lord.”
“Do your best to rest.”
“Yes, my lord,” Bosacius said.
Xiao echoed the words too, hating how they didn’t feel genuine on his tongue.
Rex Lapis left first with a blip of elemental power, leaving Bosacius and Xiao kneeling alone on the cliffside. Xiao clutched at his neck, feeling the pressure of air still passing through his air pipe. Something about Rex Lapis always made his throat feel like closing up.
“Are you sure you are alright?” Bosacius asked. Bosacius’s eyebrows worked upward on his forehead, the scar jutting out on the left side of his brow.
“I am fine,” Xiao repeated. “I promise this will not interfere with my capability.”
“It is okay to cry,” Bosacius said. “They were our family.”
“Yakshas do not cry,” Xiao said coldly even as he felt his nose sting as though warning for tears that did not come.
One of Bosacius’s arms reached toward Xiao but Xiao flinched away from him, keeping distance between them.
Was there something wrong with him that he didn’t feel the same sadness that Bosacius felt? He just felt… empty. Numb. As though a spear could drive right through his heart and he wouldn’t even feel it.
Bosacius opened his arms up and Xiao sighed tiredly. He didn’t resist when Bosacius settled his arms around Xiao and held him in a tight hug. His ribcage squeezed against forearms and he sucked in a sharp breath, just relishing in it for a second, hoping that it would be enough to melt the cold he felt inside.
When Bosacius let go, Xiao backed away.
“I need to go,” Xiao said.
“I will always be here if you need anything,” Bosacius said. “We should meet again soon.”
Xiao only nodded, the leather of his glove grinding against his spear as he looked off to the side.
He left without saying goodbye, knowing now how much goodbyes stung and how little they eased the worry within him.
“Xiao and Tachiyaku?”
Paimon's voice found Xiao's ear and before he knew it, she had crossed the room to float dangerously close to his shoulder. Xiao shifted a little closer to Tachi’s side and took another breath.
"Surprise, surprise. I expected to find you here," Tachi said.
"Xiao! Are you alright?" Traveler asked.
They reached out to touch Xiao's arm but he was faster, leaning away before they could make contact. Life seemed to bend around him as if to avoid the harmful energy and Traveler’s eyes thinned into squints as they noticed.
"You don't need to worry about me," Xiao said. “You need to worry about yourself. It’s dangerous to be this close to me.”
"You look like you're gonna pass out. Maybe you should lie down for a little while,” Paimon said.
"I have already done enough of that," Xiao said. "What are you doing in Snezhnaya?"
The door creaked open and Tartaglia emerged from the other side. As Xiao spoke, Tartaglia joined Traveler at their side.
"The room has been prepared as you requested," Tartaglia said.
“Good,” Traveler said. “Let’s continue our discussion there.”
“What room?” Xiao asked.
“Our war room,” Tartaglia said with a smile.
“Oh, come off it,” Tachi said with a scoff.
“Excuse me?”
“Childe, Tachi, there’ll be time to get at each other’s throats later,” Traveler said.
“It usually takes a few interactions before people start looking like they want me murdered,” Tartaglia— also known as Childe, apparently— said. “I know there’s more to that little grimace than meets the eye.”
“And what if I do know you?” Tachi asked. “Does that change your opinion of me?”
“If I don’t remember, then yeah,” Childe said.
“C’mon, guys. We’ll talk elsewhere,” Traveler said. “Let’s go.”
Xiao followed Traveler and Childe outside with Tachi taking up the rear. Xiao felt the warmth of Tachi’s stare between the back of his freezing shoulder blades and cast a backward glance at Tachi to find him grimacing.
Was he having memories about being here last as Scaramouche? What did it feel like to be back?
“Hey.” Tachi went up to Xiao’s side and tapped his shoulder. The sharper lines under his eyes melted away.
“You look annoyed,” Xiao said, his voice dipping into a mutter.
“What gave me away.”
“Don’t be sarcastic with me,” Xiao said.
“Sorry,” Tachi said as Childe reached a house and pulled the door open.
Xiao sighed. Tachi’s hand knocked against his. Xiao felt as though he might fall into two pieces at any moment, severed by the stitches in his side. His arm, however, felt even worse, the pain occupying the whole of his attention. When Tachi’s fingers found Xiao’s, it was on the bad arm, the arm that sensed the faintest touch and sent a sharp jolt to his mind enough to almost make him faint. He tried his best to keep his composure, to continue pushing his feet ahead as the muscle in his arm worked with the rest of his body. Just like clockwork, nothing else, he told himself.
Traveler walked in with the others following behind them. The new room was much smaller than the ward that had preceded it. But it was lived-in, spices sitting out on a counter near a sink and window with closed curtains. That would make this a dining room and kitchen then?
Childe took the seat at the head of the table and Traveler took the seat to his right shoulder. Xiao filled in the seat across from them and Tachi closed off with the seat beside Xiao.
“Before we get started: Tachi and Xiao, if you would introduce yourselves,” Traveler said.
Tachi scoffed and leaned back with his arms crossed. Xiao sighed.
“You really want to waste your precious time with that?” Tachi asked.
“Tachi, please,” Xiao murmured. He turned toward Childe. “My name is Adeptus Xiao and I am a yaksha from Liyue. I believe my friend Zhongli has mentioned you to me before.”
“Ooh, you know him?” Childe asked.
“And my name is Tachiyaku. I’m ward-of-sorts to Lesser Lord Kusanali of Sumeru.”
“So we’re teaming up with an adeptus yaksha and… some guy in a hat from Sumeru,” Childe said.
“Why are you so against telling him who you are?” Traveler asked. “What about your past, Tachi?”
“Alright, fine. Since that seems to be all you’re interested in, I used to be Scaramouche, codename the Balladeer, Sixth of the Fatui Harbingers. There. Happy?”
Tachi said it as he leaned back in his seat, the stream of words all leaving his mouth in one exhausted go.
Childe’s lips split into a grin and he snickered. “You must be kidding me. You? A Fatui Harbinger? I sensed you were strong, but that strong?”
“Why are you surprised? They let you in, after all.”
“You don’t look like you could be a day over sixteen.”
“As if age has ever been a requirement for entry with them. Again, they let you in,” Tachi said. “It’s astounding how small-minded you remain even after years of me not seeing it in action.”
“I don’t recall us ever meeting. I feel I would have remembered such an occasion.”
“I’m sure you would have had I not erased myself from Irminsul,” Tachi said.
“Woah, that’s pretty drastic measures,” Childe said. “What did you do, have something you didn’t like for breakfast?”
“That’s none of your business and I intend to keep it that way,” Tachi said.
“C’mon, guys. Childe, you got your answer. Let’s move on now while we still have time.”
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Tachi asked. “Let me guess, it has to do with the gnoses.”
“We’re saving the world!” Paimon shouted.
“We’re launching an attack against the Harbingers, who have holed themselves up in the palace. They’ve completely siphoned off any sort of aid or interaction with their own citizens ahead of using the gnoses to summon a path up to Celestia to keep anyone from interfering with their plans.”
“So you finally figured out what they were using them for,” Tachi said.
“Of course,” Paimon said, crossing her arms.
“At any rate, we need to get our team arranged. We plan to storm the palace tomorrow morning before they can launch a counterattack.”
“It’s going to be a close fight but we’ll be prepared,” Childe said. “After all, how could you lose when you have me on your side?”
To that, Tachi scoffed.
Traveler turned toward him and Xiao. “I know you guys have your own agenda that you’ll be occupied with but this is a great chance for us to help each other toward the same goal. You need inside too, after all.”
“Yes, of course,” Tachi said. “You leave Dottore to us. We’ll handle it.”
“Let’s get started then, shall we?” Childe asked. “Traveler, you brought the map as I asked, right?”
“Yep! Paimon’s got it right here,” Paimon said, then pulled it from her pocket and floated down to the table to stretch it open.
Xiao leaned back in his seat and rubbed his eyes as Paimon continued talking. The noise made his ears ring, the pitch too high for him to handle, and he brought a hand up to massage the space underneath one of his ears. That didn’t manage to ease the pain even a little. Traveler leaned over the table and pointed to a spot in the map as they began to talk about the finer details of their plan.
If this were the yakshas, he wouldn’t be missing a syllable of what they were saying. But with Traveler and Tachi, Xiao couldn’t imagine straining his ears to be worth whatever details they were already privy to. Tachi would tell him if it was important enough.
In the meantime, Xiao’s stomach constricted and grumbled from beneath the table loudly enough to make Paimon squawk in surprise and flail her arms as she insisted that she hadn’t made the sound. Traveler pointed everyone’s attention back to the map and Xiao clutched at his stomach in an attempt to silence it only for it to hurt worse.
He kept the bad arm rested in his lap, attempting not to move it, though it regularly sent sharp pulses of pain up to his shoulder. Xiao had noticed Tachi wearing a different set of clothing when he had woken, and from the way Tachi held himself, he had certainly been injured, too.
“Prepare for the worst scenario,” Tachi and Xiao had said in tandem when visiting Inazuma. Oh how he missed Inazuma now, wishing he were anywhere else but this freezing chair feeling as though he would not be able to unstick himself from it later.
He closed his eyes and attempted to meditate or sleep or do anything but feel the pain over his body.
When Xiao opened his eyes again, he saw Bosacius standing at the other end of the table at Traveler's shoulder. He blinked, hoping to not have to contend with it, but Bosacius's voice rang through the room over everyone else's. Xiao closed his eyes and squeezed them tightly, attempting to keep the voices out.
“He's injured, esteemed Rex Lapis. You can't let him go out and kill himself."
"It's his decision."
Rex Lapis?
Unable to help himself, Xiao opened his eyes again. And there Zhongli stood, on Traveler's other side, a cup of tea grasped in his hand.
"I understand your concern for his safety. But if he wants to go, then he must go. Let him see his fate for himself."
"You know as well as I that he is not prepared for it."
Xiao's blood ran hot. Not prepared? He had been prepared this whole time. He knew the risks; why did they think had he agreed to go to Inazuma?
"It is true that Xiao could do with more training," Zhongli said.
He wasn't in the attire he wore in the present day. He was in a long, black piece that stopped just below polished shoes. His gaze could cut easily through stone, the lips set into a bitter frown Xiao had never seen before.
Rex Lapis had never said anything like that before. They respected each other; Xiao wasn't some sort of child!
"Let him stay here with you. I will go in his stead with Menogias."
Menogias was already dead; what was he talking about?
"In the meantime, we will train. Maybe Xuě will actually learn something."
Xiao's stomach churned again and he brought a hand up to his mouth. That name... he knew he never should have told Tachi about it.
Bosacius turned and walked toward the door. Xiao's fingers clenched around the edge of the table as he said, "I'm going!"
Bosacius paused. When he turned around again, his eyes were set in a glare. "No, you aren't. You are not ready."
"Yes, I am ready! I chose this for myself!" Xiao said, knocking a hand against his chest in a prideful gesture.
"You are acting childish,” Rex Lapis quipped with another frown. "Sit down."
Xiao felt hands on his shoulders nudging him back into his seat. He bit his lip and strained against them, a knee knocking against the underside of the table as he growled.
"You can't make me."
"He's just throwing a fit," Bosacius said. "Don't pay attention to him."
"Xiao.”
A softer voice came, diluted under the shouting in Xiao's head. He turned to find Tachi staring at him, his eyes soft, the hand sliding away from his shoulder to rest on the table instead.
Bosacius and Rex Lapis continued staring at him with the same cold, hate-filled glares as Traveler’s brow furrowed with worry between them.
“Do you need to lie down for a while?” they asked.
"I... I am sorry," Xiao mumbled as he slid back into his seat.
Tachi turned to say something to the others.
Traveler summoned their teapot onto the table and Xiao sighed with dual relief and disappointment. His stomach growled again, sending another ache through him, and Tachi gestured him toward the teapot. Xiao rose onto his feet and closed his eyes, allowing the magic to sweep him away to some place that was at least warmer than Snezhnaya.
By the time Xiao opened his eyes again, Tachi was strutting past a gate and wrenching open the doors to Traveler’s manor. Xiao ignored everything aside from the sway of Tachi’s hat as he walked. They navigated around another dining room table, Tachi pausing and pointing for Xiao to sit, which Xiao obliged.
“Can you understand me?” Tachi asked.
Xiao nodded.
“Can you speak?”
“Yes.”
“Are you seeing things.”
“They are gone now.”
“Okay.”
Tachi looked back around the room. “I’ll make you something to eat then you can rest again.”
“Okay,” Xiao murmured as he slid into his seat once more and watched Tachi approach the cabinets in the kitchen. His stomach grumbled again as Tachi examined the fruits Traveler had left out and picked something from the assortment to add to a bowl.
“Do you like grapes? Something to tide you over until I have something more finished,” Tachi said.
“Sure,” Xiao responded.
Before Xiao had even blinked, Tachi slid a plate of fruit toward Xiao for him to pick from.
He withheld the urge to slip a bunch of grapes into his mouth at once, instead picking a few at a time to chew and swallow.
The hearth flared with a fire and Tachi prepared a pot of water to boil over top. Xiao finished his first few grapes, which tasted like nothing. His hands had started to swell from the difference in temperature, his fingers itchy. Xiao scratched the palm of his hand, feeling his over-sensitive nervous system bristle at the contact.
“It’s going to get loud for a second, okay?” Tachi asked as he placed a skillet over a different burner.
“Okay,” Xiao said.
A loud sizzling sound erupted from the skillet as Tachi added vegetables to it. Xiao brought his hand up to his forehead and closed his eyes, forcing more grapes through his mouth and biting down. He heard the shuffle of something in a pan then another hiss. More sounds followed: the thunk of a pot against a counter, the hiss of hot water being poured out into the sink, and then even more banging and hissing afterward. Xiao opened his eyes but all he saw was the set of Tachi’s shoulders.
Tachi turned back around holding the skillet in his hands. Xiao’s vision blurred enough that he couldn’t tell what was in it. He sniffled, hoping to catch a scent of whatever it was, but he only smelled burnt mushrooms.
He heard the scrape of a spatula on the skillet, the slip of the food onto a plate, and the clack of chopsticks against the wooden table once Tachi crossed the room and placed the plate in front of him.
Xiao picked up his chopsticks and plucked some noodles from his plate. It was definitely food, but aside from the fact that it stayed down when he swallowed, he couldn’t say much for the texture or taste. Tachi pulled up the chair across from him and dropped down into it, nestling his hands in his chin. His studious gaze made Xiao want to squirm but he resisted, instead closing his eyes again.
“Do you feel like throwing up?” Tachi asked.
Xiao shook his head as he swallowed. He shuddered as the stir-fry hit his stomach like a cold lump of slime.
“Okay. Does it taste alright?” Tachi asked.
Xiao paused in between bites, gazing up at Tachi from beneath heavy lashes. “It does not taste like anything.”
“Mmm. I should have figured.”
Tachi fell silent again. With conversation exhausted, Xiao turned toward the dish and tried his best to shovel more into his mouth. Tachi’s eyebrows curled up in worry once more and Xiao slowed incrementally to prevent any acknowledgement that he was rushing.
Once he cleared his plate, Xiao slapped down his chopsticks and seethed. He didn’t really feel any more full than he had before. But he had just finished a whole plate of food, so certainly he would be okay?
“C’mon, let’s grab a room,” Tachi said. “We’ll close out the curtains too so you can rest in relative comfort.”
Tachi led Xiao into a slim hallway and turned to face the first doorknob he found but it was locked. The second doorknob Tachi tried gave way to a room on the other side. Xiao crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. Tachi closed the door behind them and lingered by the entrance with his arms folded behind his back.
Xiao opened his mouth and then closed it again.
He felt like he hadn’t yet had any time to process what had happened in the cave. Why had Xiao yelled at Tachi like that? He couldn’t even remember what they had been arguing about. He only remembered how they’d been interrupted by the rifthounds and how much pain Xiao was in following their confrontation with them.
He had hurt Tachi. He had hurt someone he cared deeply about and now that someone lingered by the entrance to their room as if too uncomfortable of what Xiao might do to him to get any closer. Xiao remembered the people who had screamed and howled “Monster!” to him when they had first arrived in the city with Xiao on Tachi’s back. His arm and stomach still burned at the memory. And Tachi held his injured arm as if trying and failing to hide it from Xiao’s judgmental glance.
"You look upset," Xiao said when Tachi only evaded his gaze.
“Well, yeah, obviously."
"Why? Not counting the obvious reason."
"You've been more aggressive recently."
Xiao sucked in a breath. It stung his gums on the way down. No, not Tachi. He didn’t see him as a monster too, did he?
"I'm sorry for hurting you,” Xiao said.
"It's not that. It’s about when we were fighting in the cave."
"Oh."
Tachi crossed the room and sat down beside Xiao. He looked away, fingers working in his lap. "I hate arguing. Worse still, I hate when you shout. I understand that it's not something you can control but it still makes me want something more for you."
"I understand what you mean," Xiao said. "I am just worried that I did something to upset you.”
“It’s not your fault things have turned out this way,” Tachi said. “If anything, I’m the most frustrated at myself for not thinking more thoroughly about the risks. It’s my fault you got injured. I should have been thinking! Maybe it’s true what Nahida says and I need that dreaded sleep I’ve been writing off.”
“Did we not agree that we would do this together?” Xiao asked. “You do not need to bear the weight of everything on your shoulders alone.”
“Old habits are a little more difficult to convince otherwise,” Tachi said with a bitter grimace.
He could not even be bothered to pull a fake smile. Xiao frowned.
“I love you,” Xiao said, the tone lifted up with a hopeful lilt, pulling the phrase out like an old locket stowed away for safekeeping.
Tachi gazed at him, his eyes wide, before he looked away again with a smile.
“Thanks,” he said as he rose back onto his feet. He leaned down to press a kiss to Xiao’s forehead. “I was going to close the curtains.”
He approached the window overlooking the yard and pulled it shut. Xiao noticed the sky had started to dip into night such that the room was now awash in desaturated navy hues.
“Do you have any of your medicine left?” Xiao asked.
“Mhm. I have a little,” Tachi said. He sat down on the edge of the bed again, pulled a bag of medicine from thin air, and set it on his lap. He pulled out a tablet pinched between his fingers and turned toward Xiao. “Say ‘Aaah.’”
“That’s so foolish,” Xiao murmured. “I’m not saying that.”
“You might die tomorrow,” Tachi said. “Let me have a little fun, hm?”
Xiao cleared his throat then closed his eyes and said, “Aaah.”
He stuck his tongue out as far as it could go, feeling the mixture of shame and embarrassment on his cheeks.
“Good,” Tachi whispered.
Xiao felt the bitter sting of the medicine on his tongue as Tachi placed the tablet there. Once he felt the presence fade, Xiao closed his mouth and swallowed.
He opened his eyes again to Tachi handing him a glass of water that he lifted to his lips and swallowed. Then he handed it back, Tachi accepted it, and it ended up out of mind on the side table.
“You ready to try to get some rest?”
Xiao nodded.
Tachi hummed. “Me too.”
He leaned down and kicked off his shoes. He shuffled out of his shorts, Xiao opening his mouth to protest before he noticed that Tachi was wearing a bodysuit.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to scar you tonight,” Tachi said. “Unless that’s what you want.”
“Uh, uhm,” Xiao started, then grunted. “You are fine.”
“There,” Tachi said, pulling the black kimono from his shoulders until only the bodysuit remained.
Xiao cleared his throat as he reached up for the closures around his neck and began to undo them. He used only his good arm to do this, as whenever his bad arm moved, it still sent pangs of pain up to his shoulder and collarbone. Xiao glanced toward Tachi’s arm, too, now no fabric there to obscure the wires and exposed flesh that had been torn away by Xiao’s attack.
The guilt from the incident settled on Xiao and he looked away before he had thought about it too much, but Tachi had already caught his staring and heaved a sigh.
“It’s not your fault,” Tachi said.
“Yes, it is,” Xiao said. “If I had—”
“No,” Tachi interrupted. “Don’t be like me. Don’t throw yourself into that way of thinking.”
He turned around and pressed a hand against the side of Xiao’s face. The palm of his hand was warm, just like the swelling Xiao had experienced when they had first entered Traveler’s teapot from the cold winter land they were in before.
Xiao turned his cheek toward the touch and closed his eyes. Tachi hummed and his thumb moved up to brush against his lower lash line. The medicine had started to kick in; Xiao could tell. Although his arm still hurt, he didn’t feel as on-edge as he had hours prior. Noises and touches didn’t make him feel like crawling underneath Wangshu Inn never to come out again.
“Does your arm hurt?” Tachi whispered.
“Yes,” Xiao said.
Tachi cursed. “Are the stitches uncomfortable?”
“The nerves hurt. It hurts when I move, too,” Xiao said.
“Same with my injury,” Tachi said. He groaned. “It’s annoying as all get out, but maybe it won’t hurt as much once we wake up. Let’s lay down, hm? If anything else, we can’t say that rest will make it worse.”
“Mmhm.”
Tachi hit the pillows first and tugged Xiao down to follow him. Xiao acquiesced and reached to curl his arms around Tachi’s middle. Tachi hummed, concealing a mirth-filled laugh with a smile against Xiao’s collarbone.
Time passed. Xiao began to grow restless, shifting in bed and successfully managing to keep Tachi awake. To be fair, however, Tachi had had no intention of ever actually falling asleep. He had slept in spurts when watching over Xiao’s bedside earlier. That would have to be enough.
After what must have been only ten or so uncomfortable minutes of trying and failing to find sleep, Tachi’s voice gently cut through the silence.
“Did you know the stars are fake?” Tachi whispered.
“Hm?” Xiao hummed, still sounding sharp and lucid.
“Mmhm. All fake. It’s actually a barrier that rotates around Teyvat. That’s why they don’t change with the seasons. You would expect the world to see different constellations at different times of the year.”
“What a comforting bedtime story.”
“You’ve exhausted all of my other small talk, so it’s time to resort to the weird things,” Tachi said. “The conspiracies nobody is ready to hear are true.”
“We could talk about other things,” Xiao said. “Like Detective Shikanoin’s cases.”
Tachi barked out a laugh. “You’re going to mention him of all things after I just revealed the truth of the universe to you.”
“He is my friend,” Xiao said.
His eyebrows drew down and he frowned. Tachi sighed.
“I’m glad,” Tachi said. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like you’re not allowed to mention your friends around me.”
He unstuck his arms from around Xiao’s shoulders and moved to straddle Xiao’s hips. Tachi’s anemo glowed faintly as his weight settled on top of Xiao and he leaned forward to look into his eyes. They gleamed gold, warming the rest of his face. Tachi did not touch it for fear of making the debt worse, though he couldn’t tamp the want to touch Xiao more. Xiao acted first, grabbing his hand to press it against his cheek. Xiao’s lips found the edge of Tachi’s pinky and kissed it.
“I have a little story for you,” Tachi whispered.
“Yes?” Xiao asked.
“There once was a little puppet who had wandered the world looking for a friend. And then one stormy evening, he was set upon by a horde of dangerous hilichurls until the bravest, most gorgeous yaksha appeared out of thin air to rescue him. The yaksha led him back to safety in silence, and once he vanished into thin air again, the puppet had only one thought: ‘How do I meet him again?’
“He was, I’d argue, quite justified in his fascination. Because over time, he would learn that the yaksha was even more alike him than he could ever know, and yet so unlike the puppet in his compassion. Though the puppet had discovered their string of fate first, it was the yaksha whom had tied it so it would never unravel. One day, the yaksha gave the puppet his new name, and just like that, his future had been changed forever.”
Tachi had opened his mouth and said the words before it was too late to take them back. He was so stupid, telling the tale like a child would to a grown adult who already knew the story well enough without him needing to remind him.
But Xiao had closed his eyes and reached for Tachi’s hands, squeezing them in his. When he opened his eyes again, they continued to glow in the darkness. Those thin, kissable lips stretched into a frown and Tachi started at the sight of a… tear? sparkling down his cheek.
“You don’t need to cry.”
“Yakshas do not cry.”
“Do they also not kiss their partner when he pours out his heart for them telling them embarrassing stories about his past?”
Xiao yanked Tachi down and kissed the edge of his lips first. Tachi’s lips escaped into a wide grin and he peppered kisses across Xiao’s lips and to his chin.
“Tachi,” Xiao whispered, sounding fed up.
“What?” Tachi whispered back, pressed against Xiao’s chest, leaning forward to speak into Xiao’s ear.
Xiao pulled Tachi's face toward his and smashed their lips together. It was tactless and desperate but Tachi melted into the feeling anyway, working their lips together. Xiao's hands slid from Tachi's shoulders and up to the nape of his neck. When Xiao's fingers caught on the short strands of hair there, Tachi hummed his encouragement. He squeezed once on the legs resting underneath his thighs and Xiao grunted.
He tasted bitter like the medicine and warm like he had a fever. But Xiao didn't stop, so Tachi didn't either, closing his eyes when Xiao pushed in for a deeper kiss.
Tachi was beginning to tire of sitting over him like this, slouching to reach Xiao's face. He thought instead to drop onto his side, pulling Xiao down with him until Xiao hovered over Tachi, who reached once more for his face as his legs yanked Xiao’s hips flush against his.
"Make me forget about everything," Tachi whispered. A hand reached out, his index finger tracing the soft curve of Xiao's lower lip. "I only want to remember the shape of your lips tonight."
Xiao's cheeks flared as he found his position hovering over Tachi. He closed the distance between them once more as Tachi felt a hand cup his bum and pull the leg toward him. Tachi laughed through kisses, curling his legs ever-tighter around Xiao's waist.
Notes:
Thank youuu for reading!!
This is late because I was drawing something 👀 I will share soon! I've been feeling a little funky the last 24 hours and I hope it clears up so I can get back to finishing this. <3
Chapter 35: Underneath, a Vein Thrums
Summary:
Tachi and Xiao storm the Zapolyarny Palace.
Notes:
This chapter is sprinkled with some content warnings for: embryos/egg sort of situation (especially in the first section), needles (at the end of the chapter), and overall atmosphere of an operation room.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
“I also had a few questions of my own about something regarding your past, actually…” Nahida said.
Tachi frowned. Hadn’t they explored enough of his past already?
“I’ll try my best to help,” he said. “But be warned, I’m already in a foul mood.”
“I know,” she said. “But the information is crucial, I promise. You will not regret sharing it with me. It could even be of some use to you.”
Tachi sighed, briefly closed his eyes, then opened them again. “Alright.”
“Before you became a harbinger, I recall that you were sent on expeditions to the Abyss. If I’m also remembering correctly, that is part of why you were promoted to harbinger in the first place. Since you aren’t as easily to break as humans, you proved very useful to them.”
“Your point?” Tachi asked.
“I was curious about what you were doing in the Abyss.”
“Gathering materials for Dottore.”
“What kind of materials?”
“Really rare ones. The sort you only get from diving really deep down,” Tachi said. “Some expeditions used to take months to complete just to get one thing for his experiments.”
“Aha, so it’s as I suspected. You were the one who made it possible for Dottore to produce so many clones, weren’t you?”
Tachi tutted, shaking his head. “Nahida. If you wanted to claim that, you could have said it from the beginning. But yes, that’s right.”
“I thought it would be helpful to show you my line of reasoning before jumping to conclusions.”
“Why are you asking about that?” he asked.
“I have a bargaining chip in my possession that I wanted to give to you. I had a sneaking suspicion it might look familiar to you.”
Nahida summoned the aforementioned object to her palm and Tachi’s jaw dropped open.
It was a sphere just a little larger than her hand. It glowed a deep red, the object inside floating aimlessly until it knocked against the edge of its glass casing. Tachi swore he saw it twitch.
He swallowed, biting down on his lip. “That’s…”
“One of Dottore’s clones, yes. I erased all but one, just as an extra precaution.”
“Do you have any clue how many people he would be willing to kill to get that back?” Tachi asked.
Nahida giggled. “Perhaps. And that is why I’m giving it to you.”
“To me?! And what have I done to deserve such a treat?” Tachi asked.
“Don’t be so upset. The fact that he’d do anything for it is part of why I’m giving it to you. Imagine if you needed him to do something for you. Wouldn’t you like, then, to have something to gamble with?”
She wasn’t wrong. And that was a fact that, for once, Tachi wasn’t too pleased about.
“I always knew you had a twisted side,” Tachi said.
“I wouldn’t call it twisted,” Nahida said, her small lips set in a frown. “This isn’t some sort of game where there’s a fair way to play. Even I understand that we have to find any and every advantage we can, even if some of them are a little underhanded.”
“That’s the only way anyone manages to win at life,” Tachi said.
“Here,” Nahida said, taking a step forward with the sphere extended toward Tachi.
He opened up his palms, allowing her to slide it into them. It pulsed against his hands, dragging another grimace from his lips.
An embryo… an embryo belonging to him. Just the mere thought that with one stray flick of his palm, it could be obliterated forever. That Tachi had the power to keep one more stray Dottore from entering the world already much too full of the vile man.
“Keep it safe, won’t you?” Nahida asked. “You never know when you might have need of it.”
“Tch,” Tachi grunted as he sent it away to his pocket dimension to be handled later. For now, he had much bigger fish to fry.
When Xiao woke in the morning, it was to Tachi moving away from where he had been curled up around his middle. Xiao shuddered at the sudden rush of a cold, empty space beside him and turned around to find Tachi’s back facing him. Tachi’s shoulders slumped forward but otherwise he didn’t make any noise.
The door cracked open and Tachi lifted his head up, exposing the nape of his neck. Xiao’s hand snaked around to his middle, searching for a hand to hold.
Paimon's high-pitched voice squealed, nearly bursting Xiao’s eardrums.
"Hey! Traveler wants us t— aah! Where did your clothes go?" Paimon squealed.
“Shut up and give us a minute," Tachi said, sounding about as gruff as usual.
With no further encouragement needed, Paimon slammed the door closed, her high-pitched voice traveling down to the other end of the hallway.
Xiao retracted his touch, pushing up into a sitting position as Tachi rose onto his legs and stretched, the circular scars on his back flexing as he rose his arms above his head.
There were fewer anemo lines here than on his front although the thin lines around his throat went around the back like a collar, as did the lines drawn around his shoulders as if indicating where his arms had been joined to his body.
Xiao stared at the hair on the nape of Tachi's neck, just short of the electro insignia. He swallowed and rubbed his eyes.
"Enjoying the view?” Tachi asked.
He turned around and leaned down, Xiao feeling his face begin to heat wondering what he might do, when lips closed around his shoulder. Tachi's kisses peppered the tattoo on his bicep, trailing down to his elbow before Tachi stopped and pulled away.
"You are so embarrassing," Xiao whispered, his throat dry.
"And you're not?" Tachi asked. He leaned away again, setting his hands on his glowing hips. The insignia on his stomach sported a faint golden line through it, reminiscent of kintsugi repair where shattered pieces of ceramic were put back together using a golden resin.
"C'mon, it's time for breakfast. I'll even make your favorites for you," Tachi said.
Xiao sighed and slung his legs over the edge of the bed to rise onto his legs. The whiplash of moving too quickly came to him at once, sending his head literally spinning. Tachi stood beside him and set a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
“Let’s go. There’s no time to waste."
The almond tofu still tasted like dreams. And with Traveler and Tachi seated around him, it almost felt like a dream— maybe the last he’d ever have.
The voices occupied much of Xiao's attention as he tried to parse the sounds from each other. He knew Traveler and Tachi's voice, but so did his demons.
He hallucinated his friends staring at him, of them saying terrible things about the children in the city and the monsters beyond the gates. Breakfast had been a constant struggle of making the distinction between reality and nightmares until he felt a hand hold his from underneath the table.
They had remained in Traveler’s teapot for breakfast. Childe had joined them, filling the air with constant talk of strategy and warfare.
Tachi turned toward him, his jaw set in a tight frown, and said, "Are you ready?"
“We are leaving already?” Xiao asked.
“There’s not really anything else left to do,” Tachi said. “Don’t worry, Childe and Traveler will handle most of it. The people of Snezhnaya are tired of the Tsaritsa’s ‘love;’ they’re going to stage a rebellion.”
Is that what they had been talking about yesterday?
“It’s bound to get very loud. We can hang back if you want.”
“No, we should be there for it,” Xiao said. “It would not be the first time I have been involved in a war.”
“Even though it’s a civil war?” Tachi asked.
“That hardly makes a difference to me. It is all bloodshed regardless.”
“Are you guys gonna keep rambling or are we gonna do this?” Childe asked. “Come on, while the bloodshed is still fresh for the reaping!”
He strutted out ahead of everyone else, his hands set on his hips in a triumphant stance. Traveler, who had been seated across from Xiao and Tachi, rose onto their feet and looked toward the exit Childe had just stepped through. Then they walked around the table to Xiao’s side.
“Do you mind talking with me in private for a moment?” they asked.
“What, don’t want me eavesdropping?” Tachi asked.
“Not everything is about you,” Paimon pouted petulantly at Traveler’s shoulder.
“Alright, you guys go ahead and have your conversation about the end of the world without me,” Tachi said. “I can clean up the kitchen in the meantime. Not like I have anything else better to be doing.”
“No eavesdropping!” Paimon shouted.
Xiao stood and cast one hesitant glance in Tachi’s direction before following Traveler outside.
Traveler led him around the side of the building to the back, walking under a stone path and a copse of trees to stop at a small stone table not unlike Cloud Retainer’s in Juyeun Karst. Traveler sat down and Xiao sat down across from them, studying the bamboo trees and sakura blossoms blooming around them. Wasn’t it Tachi who had told him they bloomed year-round? Wasn’t it in Ei’s letter that she mentioned it didn’t always used to be that way?
Traveler shifted in their seat, glancing up at the trees too before settling their eyes on Xiao instead. He noticed shadows underneath their eyes that hadn’t been there before. Hair almost edged on the side of unkempt as if they tried to groom it then gave up partway.
“Are you okay?” they asked.
“I have been better,” Xiao answered. “And how are you? You look exhausted.”
“It’s not been an easy journey lately,” they answered. “It’s just been so much fighting. And I’m… I’m starting to get so tired. I just want to see my sibling again.”
They had mentioned that, too, years ago when they had first met. And times following then, too.
“I know what it feels like to yearn for someone you may never see again,” Xiao said.
“How is Tachi doing, anyway? Did he meet the Raiden Shog— erm, Ei?” Paimon asked. She floated at Traveler’s shoulder, more mum than usual, Xiao noted.
Xiao nodded. “They spoke. Ei tried to be forgiving with him but he was… he was very argumentative.”
“Sounds about right for him,” Paimon said with a huff.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Traveler asked.
“Yes,” Xiao said. “I will do my best to help you. Just because Zhongli ended his contract with me does not mean our promise has reached its conclusion. A promise to protect you is a promise for life.”
“I know,” Traveler said. They smiled, though the finer stress lines around their eyes did not go away. “I’m so happy I got to see you again before… before everything.”
“You are going to be fighting gods, aren’t you?” Xiao asked.
Traveler nodded.
“I fear that you will trod a path I cannot follow. One where great dangers will await you,” Xiao said.
“What else is new, right, Paimon?” Traveler asked.
“Yeah! At this point, ‘Danger’ is our middle name!”
“But I promise we will be careful,” Traveler said.
“Good,” Xiao said.
“You look so tired,” Traveler said.
“Promise me you will never let your guard down,” Xiao said. “Show any weakness and they will exploit it. Keep your senses and wits sharp about you. And most importantly, do not listen to their lies. Because they will lie. They are more scheming than the god of contracts.”
“I promise,” Traveler said. They pushed back from their chair and gestured back down the tree-lined path. “Are we ready to get going?”
Xiao sucked in another breath and nodded. “Yes, let’s go.”
Everyone left Traveler’s teapot and was dumped unceremoniously into the middle of a busy street in Snezhnaya. People had started to gather near the gate leading into Zapolyarny Palace. The streets that had once been oddly dormant teemed with life, surging with fists and torches raised toward the sky as chanting erupted over the crowd.
“…And we’re not gonna stand for it any longer!” Childe ranted as the shouting grew louder.
Xiao couldn’t make out a single thing they were saying. He saw eyes peering at him from through the crowd, hissing whispers and tight squeezes of Tachi’s hand over his. He closed his eyes, sucked in another breath, and lingered near the back of the crowd with Tachi.
Tachi let go of his hand when the first arrow rained down from the ramparts. Childe turned around, his bow and arrow readied. In another blink, the archer had fallen forward over the edge of the rampart and into the crowd.
A second later, more arrows, more screaming, and the clang of metal echoed in Xiao’s ears. The karmic debt inside of him pulsed, as if trying to escape the boundaries of his body to join in the bloodshed. Childe hopped off his soapbox and began to shoot more arrows as he walked to their spot near the back. The gate had been lifted; it would be seconds now before it was their turn to fight, too.
“How long have you wanted to do this, Scaramouche? Is it your first time raiding a castle?” Childe shouted toward them, a smirk streaked across his lips.
"Don't call me that," Tachi spat. Tulaytullah's Remembrance appeared at his side, splitting Xiao’s head open with a chime. Nearby, scythes of anemo knocked into a soldier’s side, pushing him into the blade of a sword.
“Why? Is it not the name I knew you as?” Childe asked.
“You seem to have overlooked the simple fact that I don’t go by it anymore,” Tachi said. “Get it right next time or I’ll rip your—”
Xiao cleared his throat and Tachi clamped his mouth shut.
Childe burst with laughter. “He has you by a tight leash, doesn’t he?”
“Shut it, you rotting tangerine.”
Noises and colors began to melt. People began to fall. Xiao brought out his spear when a stranger launched through the crowd toward him, muscle reflexes coming in time to deflect the blow. Tachi’s anemo sang through the air, knocking the man back, and Xiao hissed at the surge of debt within him. It wanted to break loose so badly, blistering and bubbling over his hands where they clutched the hilt of his spear.
“Push forward, forward! Into the castle!” a voice shouted.
Xiao followed the directive, slipping in line behind another human whose eyes glowed bright red in the snowy air. A blink and a rub of Xiao’s eyes and the glare disappeared.
He resisted the temptation to melt into the crowd of fighting still happening outside the gate. But bodies wormed against his, pushing him forward, and he followed them, keeping his guard up to deflect attacks as needed. No unnecessary combat; only enough to stay alive. He fought demons, not humans.
As they made it toward the entrance, people clambered with swords and bloodied hands to slap against the closed-off door. With one giant burst, it flew from its hinges at them, deflected by a cryo user and a shot of ice directed toward the unpopulated side streets.
A fatui skirmisher appeared toting his blaster in one hand. Not even a second passed before the tank on his back exploded in a flurry of ice and fire.
“Go, go,” Tachi’s voice shouted behind him, so Xiao obliged, pushing his way past the writhing crowd of screams and sword clashes to get into the castle beyond.
“Don’t waste any time,” Tachi called behind him. “Keep going!”
As assortment of Fatui agents stood guard in a row in front of them. Xiao drew back his spear and brought it up in time to deflect attacks as Tachi overpowered them at his side, appearing with the bell whizzing by his head.
Tachi broke the formation with a bolt of electro down the center of the group then took a sharp right turn toward a tall, unguarded door. Footsteps tromped behind them, boots echoing across the floor. Xiao heard only the swift zip of more anemo scythes in the air before their bodies hit the ground. Tachi wrenched the door open as Xiao reached it, panting through a burning throat by the time they had slipped onto the other side.
Tachi slammed the door shut behind them and cursed.
Xiao had not expected the hall beyond to be so quiet. Only his ragged breaths echoed down the hall as Tachi’s steps slowed at his side. A hand touched his shoulder.
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Good enough,” Xiao said. “Let’s keep going.”
Tachi’s eyes darted down the hallway as he took a step forward. He crossed his arms and ran his hands up and down his biceps.
“Are you- hah- cold?” Xiao asked.
“I’m just preparing myself,” Tachi said. “It should be this door.”
He stopped in front of a tall door that bore no indication of what stood on the other side. This time, it was Xiao who stepped forward first, pushing the door open with a slow creak.
Xiao opened the door and almost immediately a knife flew across the room. Xiao moved aside just in time, the knife landing in the door with a splinter-filled thunk. Tachi grit his teeth and strutted across the room, searching for the man who had thrown it.
The room was roughy how Tachi had remembered it: Filled with cabinets of medicine and tools used for experiments lit by thin, tall windows along a stone wall overlooking the wilderness outside the palace. There was also a desk with stacks of documents and a few cluttered bookshelves full of the driest material Tachi had ever read.
The ceiling was vaulted, as though the room had once been used for something else. It wasn’t large enough to be a ballroom, although it had the same circular formation and an intricate skylight high, high above their heads.
Il Dottore looked smaller than he had the last time they had confronted one another. The coat was no longer the thick shield Tachi had remembered it as. The mask hid nothing and neither did the languid smile painted on his lips as though he hadn’t just attempted to skewer someone through their cranium. He stood underneath one of the tall windows, faded winter sunlight tracing a white outline around his body and leaving his face cloaked in a dramatic shadow.
Tachi lifted off his feet as he sprang a series of anemo scythes at Dottore’s form. Dottore drew a fencing sword from a scabbard at his hip and brought it up in time to deflect the attack. He sliced through the anemo, which slammed into the window behind him and made the glass rattle.
“To what do I owe the enthusiastic entry?” Dottore asked.
“You attacked first,” Tachi said. “I’m just returning the favor.”
“We did not come to fight,” Xiao said.
Dottore laughed. It was a deep sound, one that made Tachi’s stomach curdle. He reached for the knife he’d kept in his obi, just as he had when he’d met Ei, and pulled it out to press against Dottore’s throat.
Now that Dottore realized they needed him alive, his composure changed. Subtly, but Tachi noticed. If he were in real danger, Dottore would never stand idly by with his arms folded behind his back like that. Knowing him, he probably had a dozen backup plans in case things turned south.
“What do you want?” he asked, tone as sweet as dango.
“You owe me,” Tachi said.
“You mean to say you are in need of my services, do you not?” Dottore asked. “Because your friend looks, quite literally, like he’s on his last leg.”
Xiao was looking once more like he would collapse any second, gripping his spear like a walking stick. As if on cue, upon Dottore finishing his sentence, Xiao’s knees buckled and Tachi darted forward to grab him before he hit the ground.
Tachi’s hand was surprisingly still as he sent away the knife in his hand to replace with something else, an item he reached for inside his kimono. He felt the warm glass of it underneath his fingertips and exhaled a relieved sigh. It was still alive, pulsing in that manner that made Tachi’s tongue taste of acid.
“You know how to transfer things to other vessels and you know how to create puppets,” Tachi said. He knelt at Xiao’s side, glaring up at Dottore from where he still stood under the window with that detestable smirk on his lips. “Do it. Transfer his debt to a new vessel.”
“And what would ever compel me to do that?” Dottore asked as his eyes raked back over Tachi’s injured arm, inspecting where the joint had come loose, Tachi’s forearm dangling detached from his upper arm by only a few taut wires.
He reminded Tachi of one of the rifthounds they had encountered, hungry for blood, searching for it with quick flicks of his eyes over their bodies.
“I have this,” Tachi said, pulling the embryo from his kimono. It glinted red in the faded light, the thing inside twitching once more.
Dottore’s gaze grew stern. “Where did you find that?”
“The moon gave it to me.”
“That despicable little—”
“She didn’t destroy everything,” Tachi said. “You especially would be foolish to assume she doesn’t have her own underhanded ways of dealing with you.”
Dottore sighed. Then the sigh turned into a low thrum of laughter, his shoulders shaking, a gloved hand stretching out to beckon his prize closer.
“The operation first,” Tachi said.
“You sure are demanding, aren’t you?” Dottore asked. He gestured to a door connecting to what Tachi knew was the operation room on the other side. “Undergoing life-changing surgery amid the throes of a civil war. What a fun afternoon.”
“Shut up,” Tachi spat, reaching out to support Xiao’s side and lead him through the door.
A shuddered ran through Xiao as they entered the room on the other side. The windows here were stained glass, as though belonging to the main room of a cathedral and not an operation room. It lacked all the pomp and circumstance of the room before it, occupied by a large column of metal — some sort of machine — and two metal beds with thin mattresses in the middle of the room. Dottore whistled as he crossed the room, messing with the only other furniture, a glass cabinet, on the other side.
“Go ahead, pick a bed. I will be with you shortly,” Dottore said.
The building shook. Xiao reached for Tachi’s forearm and squeezed as specks of rubble fell down. Tachi squeezed back as he led him to one of the beds and he sat down. The cold metal of the frame bit into his thighs, which hung off the edge.
“Are you okay?” Xiao whispered, looking up at Tachi, who still stood over him.
Tachi reached for the back of his neck, his fingers playing with the hair there. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve gone through much worse.”
He spoke in a quiet tone, perhaps trying to avoid Dottore hearing anything they were talking about. Tachi slid Dottore’s clone back into his kimono and Xiao reached for Tachi’s hands to hold them in his. He squeezed them, staring at the way the karmic debt swirled around them.
“I am so glad to have gone on this journey with you,” Xiao said. “Though I am sorry it came to this.”
“Me too,” Tachi said. “Don’t feel sorry. I should be the one apologizing; I wish the bastard wouldn’t have to touch you. But I’ll keep watch over you the whole time.”
“That is all I ask,” Xiao said.
“I’m back! I’m sure you two didn’t miss me.”
Dottore’s voice carried from across the room before he emerged at their side. He wheeled over a metal table with a tray of things on it, Xiao’s wary eyes inspecting the needle and other instruments he didn’t recognize.
“I prepared an anesthetic for your friend there, but I’m afraid you’ll have to remain conscious though this whole ordeal,” he said to Tachi.
“Of course I’m staying conscious,” Tachi said. “What, were you thinking of putting me under just for old times, too?”
“It would be most convenient for the transferral process if the receiving vessel stopped retorting to everything I say.”
“The— the receiving—” Tachi stuttered, his mouth dropping open, before he recovered his composure and took a step forward to close his hand around Dottore’s throat. “You’re not touching me with those revolting hands.”
“So, you would let your friend here rot away?” Dottore asked with a gesture toward Xiao. “This is the only way, I’m afraid. At least with the time limit you’ve given me. Don’t worry! I promise to make it as painless as possible.”
Tachi’s eyes widened. His hand slid inside his kimono again, as if considering his choices, holding his bargaining chip close to his chest.
“That’s hardly a promise at all coming from you,” he snapped.
This isn’t what they had agreed to. They’d agreed upon an outside vessel. An inanimate vessel. Xiao would never wish this debt upon anyone, especially his Tachi, who had gone through enough in his life already. If not this, then they would find some other way.
They had Tachi’s blueprints; maybe they could make another one of him and put it in that? No, there didn’t need to be a second Tachi. But there had to be something other than this. Anything but this.
“Tachi, it’s okay. We’ll do something else,” Xiao said.
“No, no,” Tachi said. “We can do it this way.”
“Are you sure?” Xiao asked. “We don’t have to. This isn’t what we agreed upon.”
“But of course something like this would happen,” Tachi said. “It was always in the back of my mind.”
“What will it do to you?” Xiao asked. “Will you be alright?”
“I would not worry about your friend’s wellness,” Dottore said. “I doubt there are many things that can cause him grave injury as a puppet.”
Tachi sent Dottore a death glare but Dottore only gathered his gloved hands in front of himself and grinned, jagged teeth glinting behind thin lips.
“With all of that protesting over, are we prepared to begin?” Dottore asked.
He turned toward the small metal table he’d brought with him earlier and played with a canister of some clear liquid he loaded into the syringe.
Dottore reached for Xiao’s arm but Xiao held out his hand in a “stop” gesture before Dottore could touch him. “I can stay awake, too.”
Dottore tutted. “How brave of you. Although I am afraid that you would rapidly regret the decision. Don’t worry, your partner will stay conscious to keep watch over you while I’m doing my work. You have nothing to worry about.”
Xiao looked back over at Tachi. He didn’t say anything; he didn’t need to. Dottore was right but the protector in Xiao still didn’t want to give up his consciousness. To allow an evil man credence to his body was a terrifying thought. The last time he lost consciousness for such a long time, Xiao had been lucky that Tachi had been the one to find him.
He remembered the promises he and Tachi made to each other then pressed his back against the cold metal.
“Disrobe for me. Just the upper half. I will need access for something I’ll be doing later,” Dottore said.
Xiao nodded. His skin sprouted with goosebumps as he reached up to undo the collar of his shirt and pull his arms from the sleeves. His skin hit the air and he shuddered. The building shook once more, the metal instruments on Dottore’s table clattering as they moved.
“Good. And hold out your arm.”
Xiao held his arm out and Dottore grabbed it, twisting it to have the inner elbow facing the ceiling. Xiao grunted.
“You better watch yourself,” Tachi snapped. “Make him wince one more time and I’ll have your head in a wood chipper.”
“So vicious,” Dottore tutted. “I’m only looking for a good vein, that’s all. And then he will be unconscious and it will hardly matter how I treat him.”
Xiao turned his eyes up, watching as Tachi reached out to grab Dottore’s arm. His face lit up with fury. His teeth gritted together, no emotion concealed from the frigid air.
“This is your clemency from death. Don’t take it for granted.”
“I understand that bit,” Dottore hummed. He yanked his arm from Tachi’s grip. “Now, if you shall let me work, you will see that I don’t mean him any harm at all.”
“Tachi,” Xiao called.
Tachi turned his eyes onto him.
Suddenly, he looked so young and innocent, the hard outer layer shattered like a clay pot, revealing the soft person who had been carefully stored inside.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” Tachi whispered.
“Thank you.”
“Yes, well, very sweet. Now if you shall let me…” Dottore cleared his throat.
Xiao sucked in another breath and stretched his arm out until it was as rigid as a board. Dottore brought up his needle and slid a hand across Xiao’s skin until a thumb pressed against a vein. He sunk the tip of the needle inside and pushed down on the plunger until it hit the front of the syringe and all of the fluid had been injected.
Xiao’s muscles tensed and a bright twinge of pain coursed through him. He bit down on his lip hard enough to feel the indentations of his teeth on the soft flesh.
His arm dropped down without him even trying. His body became heavy and he leaned backward before he fell onto the cold tile in front of him.
He wasn’t sure whether he hit the operation table or not. The room spun, but he couldn’t hear anything, not even the voices. He couldn’t feel his pain nor the cold on his skin.
As always, Tachi guided him into a laying position. Xiao knew he had done this because he was staring at his bright lavender eyes and the eyebrows curled up with worry. Tachi frowned and Xiao opened his mouth to speak.
“I’m… fine,” Xiao mumbled, the words jumbled and thick in his throat.
Tachi’s mouth moved but he couldn’t hear what he said.
He only knew that, when he closed his eyes, Tachi’s hands had been clutching both sides of his face.
Notes:
I haven't written the ending yet but I have figured out what it will be! Chanting to myself that it is a good idea and I definitely will not regret it later <3
Ty for reading as always!! Time for the part of the fic I have been dragging myself kicking and screaming to work on (the storming the castle was so hard but I'm pleased that it isn't awful re-reading it as I had thought!)
Chapter 36: Be Careful What You Wish For Pt. I
Summary:
Xiao gets swept away in a realm of dreams.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“He went faster than I expected. Excellent.”
Dottore’s voice rang in Tachi’s ears. His stomach churned at the sound; if he had eaten recently, he probably would have vomited. He twisted on his heel and glared at Dottore as he placed the used needle back on the tray and reached for the scalpel.
Tachi hovered over Dottore and Xiao as Dottore faced Xiao’s arm and made the first incision on his skin. Xiao didn’t move when it happened but Tachi still curled his lips into a tight grimace and turned his exacting gaze onto Dottore.
“I know, I know,” Dottore said. “Be more gentle.”
He turned toward the machine between their beds and adjusted some settings. A series of cords and tubes stuck out of the center console and Dottore reached for one of them, turning back toward Xiao with his eyes trained on his forearm.
Tachi watched the operation studiously. Xiao didn’t move through the whole thing, although that wasn’t quite the comfort Tachi had hoped it would be. To be fair, he didn’t think there was a way for this to be anything but eerie for either of them.
When Dottore leaned in close with one of the tubes he’d pulled from the machine between the beds, Tachi outstretched an arm to stop him.
“What are you doing?” Tachi demanded.
“Making a passageway for the connector to go,” Dottore said. “If you want his karmic debt so badly, I’m going to need to find a way to siphon it over. Hence why I needed him still to let me work.”
“And to cut him open,” Tachi seethed.
“Not to worry, his body’s made from flesh. It will be easy to find a channel to siphon the debt from. You, on the other hand, are made from the wood of Irminsul, no? The material is a little tougher than what I’m used to, but I will make do,” Dottore said. “There is a reason I chose not to create my other clones this way. Although sturdy, it’s not very flexible, is it?”
“Shut up,” Tachi said. “Just make it quick.”
“Of course,” Dottore said in a tone that Tachi didn’t believe for a second.
The rest of Xiao’s procedure went about the way Tachi had expected it would. Dottore finished sliding a tube from the machine into Xiao’s forearm to connect him to it then secured it with surgical tape. Once that was finished, Dottore turned back toward Tachi and gestured to the vacated bed.
“And now it’s time for the fun part. If you will, sir,” Dottore said with acid in his voice.
So much had changed since Tachi had last seen this room and yet too much had remained the same. Dottore’s demeanor was the same as it had been before— an asshole, all the way to the end. Even when threatened with death. And the reflex to lie down on the operation table still ran deep inside of Tachi as much as he wished he could forget those days.
“I assume you are familiar with these procedures?” Dottore asked as Tachi gritted his teeth and sat down on the edge.
Dottore, just like many of the other harbingers, was a clever, perceptive man. Without ever even explicitly saying that Tachi knew Dottore from his past, Dottore had been able to conclude as much from Tachi’s reactions to him. Or perhaps Dottore just assumed Tachi had met one of his clones before, which also would not be a lie. Tartaglia had been much the same when they spoke yesterday.
“I’m done with all the faffing around. Get started or we’re leaving,” Tachi said.
He struggled more to hold an assertive tone than he had expected. Where was Scaramouche when he needed him? But even Scara had always had secret fears about the experiments Dottore conducted on him.
Suddenly, Tachi wished he had been built with a stronger backbone.
Dottore didn’t explain what he was going to do before he did it. He just acted, with a scalpel and two cold hands, pushing Tachi to lay his back flat on the table and turning Tachi onto his side to reveal the arm that had been injured the days prior.
“Mmm, interesting,” Dottore said. “Then what about we just attach it here…”
Sparks of pain ran from Tachi’s arm up to the rest of his body as Dottore touched the cold scalpel to his inner wirings. He bit down hard on his lip, holding back a scream, insisting to himself that he would not give Dottore the satisfaction of knowing that he had brought him such incredible pain. His body wanted to twist and writhe but Tachi forced himself to stay still.
Dottore touched something and a bright pang shot to Tachi’s chest. He looked down; the circular anemo insignia on his stomach was glowing.
He felt the curl of cold and something wet against his back. He shivered. He thought he had put these moments behind him— moments of bracing for pain that would only come once he had exhausted himself so much he could no longer hold on so tightly to his artificial muscles.
When the first tube slid in, Tachi felt every inch of it touching his body. He knew exactly where it was as much as he didn’t want to, right down to where it stopped in his forearm, near his elbow.
Dottore turned toward the machine. Tachi heard the flick of a switch and the thrum of an engine.
“There we go.”
Dottore’s voice faded away as darkness briefly flickered over Tachi’s vision. When his vision returned, a shadow was standing behind Dottore. Tachi flinched, feeling an absence of response in his arm when he tried to move it.
“Already hallucinating. Good. That means the debt is transferring over as expected,” Dottore said.
“It’s what?” Tachi asked.
“It’s transferring over, as I said. Relax your muscles; it will all be over soon.”
“You said I would stay awake the whole time,” Tachi said through gritted teeth.
“Aww, that’s so cute of you that you thought I was telling the truth,” Dottore said.
“You bastard,” Tachi hissed.
He reached once more for Dottore but his arm refused to move. But Dottore hadn’t injected him with anything! How was this possible?
“What did you do to me?” Tachi asked.
“I did as you asked,” Dottore answered. “And now I want my reward.”
The building shook once more, and this time, Tachi heard the metal instruments rattle on Dottore’s small side table. Tachi blinked, as it was the only thing he could hope to do at that point, and sent Dottore a glare as Dottore’s hand slid inside his kimono and pulled out the clone encased in the bright red orb.
“You haven’t even finished with your end of the deal yet,” Tachi seethed, “and you’re already patting yourself on the back for a job well done. Why am I not surprised.”
“Interesting that you’re still capable of speech,” Dottore said. “I suppose when you hate someone so much, you’re capable of things you never thought possible. Isn’t that right?”
The shadow behind Dottore had grown larger. It took a step forward— or more like floated forward— until hands closed around his shoulders almost like in an embrace.
Neon-white swirls replaced the eyes in the shadow creature. Tachi’s mouth worked but he found that he could no longer speak. Why was Dottore so right? How had he determined these things about Tachi’s life that he had never told him in this reincarnation?
“You… stop…” Tachi tried, but the words stumbled from his mouth and onto the shaking floor.
Dottore laughed and once more Tachi’s vision faltered. He felt as though he was falling, as though he’d flung himself off one of the bridges in the Sanctuary of Surasthana and was now plummeting down to his death.
Tachi’s vision narrowed like looking through a gap in a doorway. He felt a twitch of his fingers and then stillness. Dottore took a step back; the shadow took another step forward.
And then it enveloped Tachi in the same cold, spine-chilling embrace it had given Dottore, robbing Tachi of all his senses.
Tachi’s mouth remained frozen with the jaw open, a silent scream falling on deaf ears.
When Xiao opened his eyes again, he was standing in a field of blue-green grass. Fog stretched across the terrain in all directions. In the distance, a single tree stood, a lavender melon dangling from a spindly branch, puffy white clouds licking the ground around it.
Xiao approached. He felt his feet shuffle against the grass and looked down.
His feet had disappeared, replaced by talons.
He reached behind his back and his long-nailed fingers met feathers.
Xiao remembered the last time he had taken this form, flying up to the Wangshu Inn-Jade Chamber amalgamation that he had seen inside his dreams.
He padded across the ground and toward the tree. He reached up, staring at the blue hue of his painted nails as he plucked a melon from a branch.
A hand knocked against his and he lifted his head.
A young man in a white kimono stared at him with wide eyes. A smile stretched on his lips as he drew his hand away. He pushed away a silk veil that fell down around his eyes and short hair that rested against the nape of his neck, the same hue as Tachi’s. As Mochou’s.
“Hi there,” he said.
“Hello,” Xiao responded. “Who are you?”
“My name is Kuniyuki, although most of the people of Tatarasuna call me the kabukimono.”
“My name is Adeptus Xiao, but you can call me Xiao.”
When the kabukimono smiled, happy creases formed underneath his eyes. He let go of the hand that had been grasping his veil and reached for Xiao’s face instead.
Xiao’s posture went rigid and he stared straight ahead, otherwise unsure of where to look. The kabukimono’s touch never landed on his cheek even when he had been secretly hoping it would.
“I don’t know what an adeptus is, but you’re very pretty,” he said. The hand hovered near Xiao’s face before he pulled it away.
“Thank you,” Xiao said.
He stared down at the ground, caught sight of his taloned feet, and looked up toward the sky. It was clear white.
Kabukimono gasped. “Your cheeks turned purple! Are you alright?”
“Yes, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me,” Xiao said.
So, this was what the kabukimono had been like? Xiao didn’t know how the people of Tatarasuna had stood it. He was even gentler and kinder than Mochou; or maybe time had just dulled Xiao’s senses over the difference.
He was also very, very cute.
“What are you doing out right now? Aren’t you afraid of getting attacked by monsters?” Xiao asked.
Kabukimono didn’t look like he had learned any combat skills by this point in his life. The urge to protect him came up fast and strong upon Xiao. And finally, after so long of having to depend on Tachi for defense, he could offer the same in return.
“Just like how I don’t have to worry about you, you don’t have to worry about me,” the kabukimono said. “My village isn’t far from here. Why don’t we go together?”
“Alright,” Xiao said.
The kabukimono stretched out his hand and Xiao accepted it. The other arm curled lavender melons close to his chest as he padded, barefoot, across the grass and toward Tatarasuna.
Xiao was not sure what was happening.
He had seen and experienced many different adeptal arts in his life, some of which included the ability to manipulate dreams and thoughts. This felt similar, although much more personal than anything he had done before.
Being inside someone else’s house was one thing and their head another. Xiao had hardly ever been over at another human’s house before other than Zhongli’s and Heizou’s. And this was even more intimate than that, another layer that made it difficult for him to know quite how to behave.
He’d always prided himself on his ability to read a situation and calculate how to react in a fight. Social situations were different. He remained perceptive, keeping his gaze trained on Kuniyuki the whole walk back to Tatarasuna. But Xiao could come up with no good procedures on what to do next.
He needed to find Tachiyaku. But if this space was indeed inside someone’s head, whether it be Xiao’s or Tachi’s, then normal searching would come up with no leads.
A part of Xiao did not want to rush the solution too quickly anyway. He had always longed to know what Tachi’s past selves had been like and this man in front of him now presented too good an opportunity to pass up.
Xiao was right that Tatarasuna looked about the same as it had been when he saw it last with Heizou and Kazuha, albeit not as advanced technologically. The giant furnace that floated over the town was strangely missing.
Xiao stared at the way the veil swayed behind Kuniyuki's head as he walked. Kuniyuki hummed, his head bobbing a little side to side.
Every step he took illuminated the area around them and flowers bloomed under the soles of his feet. Places in the distance remained shrouded in fog only until Kuniyuki got close enough to disperse it.
“Niwa, I brought a friend!” he called out.
In the distance, a man approached, his stubby brown hair decorated with a signature red streak. Xiao cocked his head at him as he approached. Tachi had been right; he did look a lot like Kazuha.
“Hello,” Niwa said. He set a hand on his hip and waved.
Xiao bowed, keeping his arms against his sides. “My name is Adeptus Xiao. It’s an honor to meet you.”
Niwa laughed. “You’re so polite! Are you new to Tatarasuna? Want a tour around?”
“I would appreciate it.”
“Kuniyuki, why don’t you show him around then we can have dinner?”
“Sure! Let’s begin on that end of the island.”
The kabukimono started walking and Xiao followed after him again.
All the women of Tatarasuna were not very good at concealing their gawking when Kuniyuki approached with Xiao at his shoulder. It would be embarrassing enough on its own, but knowing the people weren’t real and instead some figment of Tachi’s thoughts made him blush even worse. And every person he encountered was set on mentioning this fact to him.
“I hope this all isn’t too much for you,” Kuniyuki said. “It must be a little overwhelming considering how many people there are in Tatarasuna.”
“It’s okay, I’m just not used to meeting so many people,” Xiao said.
Kuniyuki led him to one of the edges of a floating rock in Tatarasuna. He sat down and swung his legs down below, patting the space next to him for Xiao to sit. Xiao sat down and placed his hand in the grass between them.
“Tell me more about yourself. What do you like?” Kuniyuki asked.
“I like almond tofu and tea,” Xiao said.
“I think my favorite is bitter tea. What about you? Which flavor do you like best?”
Xiao shrugged. “I think I like sweet things the most.”
“Hm, that makes sense. Sweet things are good, too.”
Kuniyuki turned his eyes onto the fog below them. He kicked his feet at a cloud.
“Did your hair used to be long?” Xiao asked.
“Yes,” Kuniyuki said. His eyes widened and he leaned closer. “What do you think? Does it look bad? Is it too short? I thought Niwa was looking at it funny earlier…”
“No, it looks good on you.”
“Oh, good,” Kuniyuki said, his shoulders dropping. “It felt so good when I cut it, like I had become a completely different person. Have you ever cut your hair?”
“Yes. Mine used to be a lot longer, too.”
“Where are you from? You’re not from Inazuma, are you?”
Xiao shook his head. “I’m from Liyue.”
“Do you like it there?”
“Yes. It’s very beautiful there and people are very kind.”
“That sounds true. You’re also very kind.”
Xiao cleared his throat. “Thank you.”
Kuniyuki laughed. Tachi never laughed like that. “Any time.”
“I have a question for you,” Xiao said.
“What is it?”
“Do you know where we are?”
Kuniyuki looked away. “I knew you were going to ask that soon…”
“Should I not have?”
“It’s okay, I just don’t have a really good answer for you,” he said.
Xiao’s eyes widened. “You don’t?”
“I know this isn’t really Tatarasuna and that I don’t really… I dunno. Exist?” Kuniyuki looked up into Xiao’s eyes. He dropped his hands between his legs and played with his fingers clasped together. “But I just thought, ‘Oh, Xiao is so pretty! I want to get to know him better.’”
“We know each really well,” Xiao said.
“Really?” Kuniyuki gasped. “Are we friends? How long have we known each other? Hundreds of years?”
Xiao couldn’t help but smile. The wonder in Kuniyuki's eyes was so sweet, so innocent. It sounded just like something Mochou would say.
“Not hundreds, but sometimes it feels like it. No, we’re lovers.”
He didn’t hesitate to say it. He said it surely, proudly. The kabukimono brought his hands up to his cheeks, concealing a blush that didn’t appear.
“We— we are?”
Xiao nodded.
“Oh wow, um. I must have gotten so lucky to grab your attention!”
“It was not that way at first, but with time things changed.”
“Oh. Well, at any rate, I’m glad,” Kuniyuki said. “When you first saw me, it looked like you were searching for someone else. I got a little worried.”
“The truth is I am. But I’m not sure how to find him.”
“You’re looking for the other ‘me,’ right? I could help you search for him even though I’m not really sure what I’m doing myself.”
“You know this space better than me. If we go together, certainly we will find something. What about Shakkei Pavilion? Have you been there?”
“Oh, I haven’t,” Kuniyuki said. “We could go there…”
“Don’t worry, I’ll go with you. You don’t have anything to be afraid of.”
“Thank you,” Kuniyuki said. “I’ll go if you hold my hand.”
Xiao smiled and reached for Kuniyuki's hand. “Alright.”
Kuniyuki led the way with Xiao at his side. They left Tatarasuna behind, exploring the rest of the island. Kuniyuki had gotten strangely quiet, a huge difference from the chatty puppet he had been before. Xiao glanced down at their hands and noticed the long, white sleeves that hung from his thin arms, concealing his wrists and shoulder blades.
It felt wrong to be thinking of Tachi’s other selves at a time like this, but Xiao could not help but wonder whether Kuniyuki had the joints that Tachi had once told him about. The little seams across his body indicating where he had been assembled. Xiao knew some of those had been replaced with the bright anemo that decorated Tachiyaku’s body in the present.
He had said, too, that they had faded over time. Between that and Dottore’s experiments, Kuniyuki's body was properly entirely different from his later reincarnations’.
Kuniyuki stopped below a tree and gestured. “It’s that way.”
A deeper, more violet-hued fog had started to roll in. Flashes of searing white streaked across the sky from behind a screen of gray.
“This is as far as I can go,” Kuniyuki said. “I don’t want to run into him.”
“I understand,” Xiao said.
He let go of Kuniyuki's hand and stepped forward.
“Wait, before you go,” Kuniyuki said.
Xiao turned toward him again. Kuniyuki played with the sleeve of his kimono, shifting on uneasy feet.
“What is it?” Xiao asked.
“Since we’re close, could we— I— maybe, um. Could I have a kiss?”
Xiao hardly smiled, let alone grinned, but he couldn’t help himself. Kuniyuki stumbled over his own words so badly he might as well end up with actual bruises on his knees. His face reminded Xiao of a clear stream, nothing there to obstruct the shyness in his eyes.
“Okay,” Xiao said.
“Really?!” Kuniyuki gasped. He summoned a fake breath, pulling his arms back down against his sides. “Alright then. Close your eyes.”
Xiao obeyed.
His nerves bristled. He kept himself as calm as he could, bracing for the feel of soft lips on his. What would a kiss from Kuniyuki feel like?
Xiao felt a peck on his cheek and then Kuniyuki's voice.
“Alright, I’m done.”
Xiao opened his eyes. Kuniyuki gripped his other hand’s fingers as he glanced away.
“That’s it?” Xiao asked, amused.
“I can’t do anymore. I wouldn’t want him to get mad.”
“You think your other self would get upset?”
“I know myself,” Kuniyuki said. “I don’t think I would want to share with anyone, even another ‘me.’”
So, he was showing a little of his true colors. Long, violet lashes brushed Kuniyuki’s cheekbones as he looked at Xiao again.
“Thank you, though. You should probably get going. I bet you’re really busy.”
“Stay safe. And thank you for helping me.”
“It’s no problem, really. I’m glad I could help.”
Xiao reached for Kuniyuki's shoulder and squeezed. Kuniyuki smiled and fidgeted again, shifting his weight onto his other foot. He stepped forward and pushed his hands into Xiao’s shoulders, but he would hardly call it a shove. More like a gentle nudge.
“Get going before I change my mind!” Kuniyuki shouted.
Xiao nodded, a laugh edging toward his lips.
“Alright, I’ll see you,” he said.
Kuniyuki waved him away and he turned on his heels toward the pavilion.
The large stone gate of the pavilion was already open when Xiao approached.
Lanterns, bright-red trees, and roots covered the space. Unlike Tatarasuna, which had some sense of order and similarity to the real world, when Xiao passed into the building, he saw crates and barrels floating up toward the sky. Some sat half-clipped through walls and in some places there were holes in the wooden floors or complete gaps into darkness.
Xiao entered a large tatami room with folding screens obstructing his view. He glanced up, catching a high ceiling and still more rooms above.
He unfurled his wings and listened to the feathers brushing against each other as he shot up into the sky. The usual anemo-powered leaps were exhilarating on their own, but even that could not compare to the euphoria that came when he flapped his wings on the wind.
The miasma was getting thicker. He was almost there.
Xiao landed on the edge of a tatami room and peered inside.
In the distance, a familiar figure sat, crumbled, on the ground. Three tall walls surrounded them. When Xiao glanced over his shoulder, he saw he had been closed in by the fourth wall.
Xiao approached and the head turned, revealing the slim, childlike outline of his face. Beneath him swirled a pool of ichor, purple and black like a galaxy.
“Come any closer and I'll skin you," the voice hissed, all too familiar in Xiao’s ear.
The closer Xiao got, the heavier the weight on his shoulders became. He was familiar with this sensation; he had encountered it often when staring into the eyes of demons and evil gods.
Xiao took another step. He studied the length of Scaramouche’s back. In the present day, round scars littered Tachi's back. Xiao had counted them before: one large one in the center, flanked by four other symmetrical markings, two on each side. The sixth scar rested just above the electro insignia on the nape of his neck.
Here, though, the wounds were fresh and ghastly. Scaramouche's back was like a shattered dinner plate, fragments of the shell littering the floor. Xiao saw wires and velvety black holes peppered with violet.
“Didn't you hear me? Stay the fuck away!"
Scaramouche bolted out of his sitting position and flung himself at Xiao's feet. Xiao caught only a flash of his face, electro-bright eyes flowing with tears tainted black by his blood. Scaramouche reached for Xiao’s throat but Xiao was fast enough to stop him, hand shooting out to hold Scaramouche’s wrist steady in front of his chest.
"I'm here to help you," Xiao said as he released his grip and Scaramouche’s hand fell away.
Xiao knelt down in front of Scaramouche and tilted his head to once more latch onto Scara’s eyes, making out more detail, capturing the sight of a fragmented cheek underneath frazzled hair.
"Save your lies for someone more naïve,” Scaramouche spat.
He forced himself into a sitting position and reached for Xiao’s arm. This time, out of curiosity, Xiao didn’t stop his reach. He gawked as Scaramouche forced him onto his stomach just as Tachi had done with the Raiden Shogun. A sting of pain traveled up Xiao’s spine and to his neck as Scaramouche gripped his wrist and yanked an arm behind his back.
This wasn’t real. Xiao had no need to worry about injury and it wasn’t like he had it in him to bring a hand against Tachi anyway.
“I don't deserve anyone's help! Don't you get it? I already screwed everything up! You must be a complete idiot if you think there’s anything left to redeem!”
“Stop saying that about yourself.”
Xiao’s voice came out steady. He felt two hands gripping his wrist now, as if he expected Xiao to spring any second from his capture. Scara was weak enough that it wouldn’t take that much force to break free. But there would be no point to doing that.
As more calculations ran in Xiao’s mind, the weight on top of him disappeared and Scaramouche backed away.
“Just leave before I change my mind.”
Scaramouche turned away, once more revealing the extent of his injuries. Xiao rolled over to face him and sighed, taking a second just to study him.
This must have been what he’d become after he was defeated. Tachi had told him before about this stage of his life. How he had fallen into a coma around this time after he had been torn from the “vile thing that had been keeping me alive” and sequestered away in the Sanctuary of Surasthana to recover.
Xiao knew that Tachi didn’t have fond memories of that time of his life. It was no wonder Scaramouche acted this way now, the thoughts flowing freely from his mouth.
If Xiao had been there for him sooner, things would not have ended up this way. Of course, that was all useless daydreaming, but it was a comfort to imagine happier possibilities.
He found it just a little amusing, too, that Tachi had told Xiao once that he wouldn’t get along with Scaramouche. He had to admit Tachi would probably be so smug to know he was right.
Xiao once more closed the space between them, crawling across the floor to wrap his arms around Scaramouche’s back.
“I am here to protect you,” Xiao said.
Scaramouche’s body trembled and he lowered his head farther toward the ground.
“Everything hurts… it hurts so much!”
Everything about him was loud and electric, crackling with the pain and torment he had just told Xiao about. He had never felt so alive nor so human than when he turned toward Xiao’s chest and hid his face in the folds of Xiao’s clothing like a child hiding from a bad nightmare.
When he spoke, the syllables came out desperate and aggrieved. Xiao stroked the back of his head just as Tachi had done for him.
He didn’t know how long they must have sat there, Scaramouche unraveling beneath him, fingers digging into Xiao’s clothing, giving him time to run scenario after scenario in his mind of how things might have been different had any stage of Scaramouche’s life been different.
Eventually, Scaramouche’s breaths drew heavy and Xiao let go of him to rest with his legs curled up to his chest. He wished he had something to cover him up with. He looked so vulnerable this way, the wounds so fresh across his artificial body, the tears still staining his porcelain face.
It was with a heavy sigh that Xiao rose onto his feet once more and looked toward the way he had come. The floor had fallen away, one thin bridge stretching off into fog once more.
Xiao sucked in a slow breath and walked down the path.
The bridge Xiao had taken started to become more solid with guard rails on the side, planks more uniform in shape and coloration. Xiao recognized these planks; they were the ones they used at Wangshu Inn.
He swallowed as he started a slow ascension up to the top. His feet echoed off the planks underneath him and the faint rustle of wind on trees that may or may not have existed.
A balcony began to take shape. And there, outlined in dawn sunlight, was a figure Xiao saw only in his dreams.
He chewed on his lip and swallowed. Tucked strands of hair behind his ear as if that could help ease the tension settling at the bottom of his stomach.
Xiao took a step forward.
"Mochou?" he called, like a whisper in his own ear.
The head turned. Deep violet looked almost indigo in the sunlight and his eyes glimmered lavender. He flashed a row of teeth as a wide smile graced his lips.
He turned fully and ran into Xiao’s arms, almost shoving him onto the ground. The air left Xiao’s lungs and his arms reached to curl around Mochou’s middle. Mochou pulled away with a laugh.
“Yes! Yes, it's me," he said. "Or, at least I think so."
Xiao’s lips worked to say something but no words managed to come out. He stared in awe as Mochou tucked some hair behind one of his ears and flashed Xiao a grin.
"Xiao? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"This isn't real," Xiao said. "You're not—“
He cut himself off before he could finish the thought. What good would it do to think this way? At least aloud? If he was interacting with the karmic debt instead of Tachi's consciousness, wouldn't Xiao have found more egregious signs by now? Scaramouche would have been a perfect opportunity to attack him while his guard was down. Even so, even with Mochou smiling so innocently in front of him, Xiao couldn't help but feel that something was wrong.
"Xiao?" Mochou said again.
Xiao dropped his gaze onto him. Mochou worked his fingers together and frowned.
"I'm sorry," Xiao said. "I'm just thinking about Tachi.”
"It's okay, I don't blame you. I'm sure nobody ever could have expected that we'd be able to meet again like this."
"Do you know what's happening?"
"Maybe... maybe sort of?" Mochou asked. "Come on, come over here. Let's sit a while."
Mochou tugged Xiao's arm toward the edge of the balcony. Xiao acquiesced, following him to the side where Mochou dropped down onto his bum and pushed his legs in between the railings to dangle off the edge, not unlike how Kuniyuki had done before him.
“I’ve missed you," Mochou said. "How long has it been since we last spoke like this?"
"Two and a half years," Xiao said.
Did he not know that? Did he ask as a sort of test?
"I thought Tachi's consciousness had merged into one person," Xiao said. "So, how is it possible that we're able to speak like this?"
Mochou frowned. He looked down between his knees. "I'm only one fragment of his consciousness, so I don’t what else is going on beyond me. I know only tiny bits and bobs about what’s happening outside of my world, like the names of my, uh, other selves, but not much more than that. From my perspective, it feels like I'm in a forever dream, but a pleasant one.”
"Interesting," Xiao said.
"Isn't it?" Mochou asked with a smile.
He didn’t say anything else. He just sat there, his lips split into a gentle smile, hands cupped over his cheeks.
Then Mochou turned his head toward the scenery below them. It was a sight Xiao sorely missed: marshlands from Guili Plains interspersed with sloping hills of golden yellows and oranges. The cool feel of an autumn breeze against his cheeks punctuated with the smell of home that he hadn’t felt in years.
“I missed you,” Xiao said like a reflex.
“Would it be mean of me to say that I don’t feel the same?” Mochou asked without looking at him. “Because for me, it feels like you never left.”
Xiao sighed, the sound steadily melting into a light laugh. “You’ve always been better at the sentimental things than me.”
“I learned everything I know about those things from you,” Mochou said. “Even if you don’t think so.”
“I will take the credit for it,” Xiao said. “You taught me many things, too.”
Mochou hummed.
The sun had started to set over a cloudy horizon, dipping the world in bright reds.
“Something dangerous is coming,” Mochou said.
“I should go.”
Xiao said it but made no move to get up. Mochou’s lips tightened into a frown as he whipped his head toward Xiao.
“And go where?” Mochou asked. “There’s nowhere to go. Please, stay with me. At least for a little while longer. We don’t have to say anything. Just watch the sunset with me, one last time.”
“When this is over, will you remember?” Xiao asked. “Will he remember? I still do not understand how you are here when I thought Tachi said all of you had formed into one person.”
“You think too much sometimes,” Mochou said. “It’s a human habit to compartmentalize, no? It’s a coping mechanism. I don’t think it would be difficult for him to have sliced up his memories into more manageable pieces to hide away the parts he didn’t like very much.”
“I thought he liked you,” Xiao said.
“Oh, really? He didn’t think I was embarrassing, or…”
Mochou didn’t finish the sentence.
Xiao reached for Mochou’s hands and brought them into his lap. “How could he dislike someone so amazing? Someone who was the whole reason he had a second chance at life?”
“Or third chance,” Mochou said. “Ugh, I don’t even know which number we’re on anymore.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Xiao said.
“Do you still like me? The ‘newest’ me?” Mochou asked.
“I love him,” Xiao said.
Mochou exhaled a sigh of relief. “I’m glad. It would seem I was worried over nothing.”
“It would have taken a lot for me not to like you anymore,” Xiao said. “Any version of you.”
“Even the evil one?”
“Tachi was right that I don’t think we would have gotten along but that does not mean I hate him.”
“That’s too bad,” Mochou said. “About not getting along with him, not the other bit.”
Xiao cracked a smile as Mochou reached to tug him a little closer.
Mochou cleared his throat and asked, “Do you mind if I lay my head down?”
Xiao shook his head. “Not at all.”
Mochou shuffled down onto his side and scooted closer to rest his head on Xiao’s lap. Mochou sighed and turned his head toward Xiao’s stomach. Xiao glanced down at him, staring at the way his fingers dug into Mochou’s hair, then glanced back up at the setting sun. It had become even redder than before, dipping below the horizon, shedding its faint rays across the rippling bodies of water below.
“Suddenly I feel so tired,” Mochou whispered. “Even though I don’t want this to end at all.”
“Whatever comes next, we can tread through it together,” Xiao said. “Leave it to me for now.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt afraid before, but I’m a little scared now,” Mochou said. He turned over, revealing knitted eyebrows and a small frown.
“Don’t be scared. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be with you, right here,” Xiao said.
He pressed an open palm against Mochou’s chest. His skin burned where they made contact and Mochou reached up to squeeze Xiao’s fingertips underneath his.
“Thank you,” Mochou said.
He closed his eyes as the sun finished setting on the horizon. Red turned to deep magenta and then indigo as Xiao sat and stroked Mochou’s hair. The tension that had once settled inside of him abated as his skin grew cold with a light breeze. Between the closing of his eyes and the opening of them once more, Mochou had vanished from his lap.
When Xiao looked up, he saw nothing but the cold white tiles of the ceiling far above him.
Notes:
I had a really sad Saturday thinking about sad writer things but I bought myself consolatory manga and re-read some of my favorite bits of this fic to cheer myself up. Tysm to everyone who has enjoyed this story and encouraged me!! 💕 Even I can get swept up in a bad spell.
The first artwork of this chapter was inspired by a Chainsaw Man volume cover art. And then the artwork at the end is just a lil collage with a vague attempt at the 2d art style genshin goes for sometimes. (kabukimono showed up already but here he is againnnn) I looked back at Mochou after so much time not working on it and I'm actually pretty proud of him. Can you tell I love him???
Did you think we were done with Mochou? Because I am NEVER done with him!!!! Ever!!! (okay but maybe that was the last time for real).
Chapter 37: Be Careful What You Wish For Pt. II
Notes:
Content warning for abuse at the beginning. Specifically (plot soilers) going on a little trip into Xiao's past abuse, including emotional and physical abuse and imprisonment. Also unreality and shadowy figures.
If you want to skip, you can begin reading at: "The pain eased immediately, just like the relief of a cool breeze on the back of Tachi’s nape."
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tachi woke up on his side on the ground. His body had curled in on itself, his knees pulled up to his chest and his hands nestled underneath his head. He felt a dry, scraping throat and cold, wet hair underneath his knuckles. His body trembled uncontrollably, the fingers so stiff it hurt to unfurl them from underneath his head.
He forced them to open up and press against the ground. Tachi’s palms met small pebbles digging into the fat of his palms. He seethed over the sound of chains and metal being dragged across the ground.
Tears burst from the edges of his eyes at the supreme cold snaking its way through his body. Tachi lifted a hand to wipe the tears away, hand shaking, and felt the weight of something on his wrist.
He looked down.
This was not his body. There’s no way it could be. The limbs were too thin and bruised in places, especially around the thigh and calves. Iron shackles hugged his ankles and wrists, the chain traveling to some spot behind him. He winced at where they touched his body, deep cold biting at him. The joints were so small, however, that it almost looked like he could slip a hand through if he tried hard enough.
So, Tachi tried. He reached with his left hand and curled his right hand into a beak shape to try and slim it enough to go through the shackle. The fingers cramped, however, and he saw in places where the skin had become faded gray or purple from hypothermia.
His thin shoulders trembled again. He glanced at the scrap of fabric that barely covered his body. Some sort of brown, torn cotton. But he had seen material like this before— it was stained heavily with probably all matter of thing, but the thing Tachi recognized the most were the dark teal stains.
This reminded him of Xiao’s blood.
Oh my, oh my, where’s my little demon hidden off to now?
A voice echoed through Tachi’s holding cell. He hadn’t realized he was in a cell at all, everything shrouded in dark except for his small square of faded sunlight. But the way the voice bounced off the walls gave texture to an area he otherwise couldn’t see.
He heard the echo of footsteps and then the shadow appearing in the mouth of the room.
That was the best way he could describe it— a heavy, suppressive atmosphere of a creature cloaked in darkness. He thought initially they were wearing a black coat, but as they approached, their energy crackled around them. Tachi's tongue went numb as they knelt in front of him and grabbed his chin.
Tachi jerked his head away. As punishment, a sharp hand smacked his cheek, the sound reverberating across the stone room. He heard the splatter of blood and felt a tooth ripped from his mouth. He gagged, sucking in a horrified breath, as they spoke.
How do you feel today, hm? Feel hungry? Want to eat something?
"No," Tachi gasped.
What was that? 'No'? Are you sure about that?
Their cold hand gripped his jaw and squeezed his mouth, forcing the lips into a puckered O. The tongue jutted out, forced against the lower row of teeth. Tachi attempted to wrench away, the chains rattling as he shoved the hands back.
"Don't touch—“
I'll do what I want, the voice hissed. Refuse me again and I'll chop off your arm!
They reached down for the chain on the ground. All at once, Tachi jerked onto his feet. And then even higher than that, until his arms were raised above his head and his legs dangled in the air. Tachi's hands curled into fists that the shackles ground against, burning at the flesh and making him cry out in pain. Certainly the muscles in his arms would break when the person shook him once, rattling his spine and throwing his mind into confusion.
You listen, or I'll tear your ears off, they hissed.
More tears stung at the edge of Tachi's eyes. His chapped lips worked together as he gathered enough saliva to spit in their face. He made his mark, evidenced mainly by the scream and extra lift to leave him dropping his head, too exhausted to leave it lifted up anymore.
Useless boy! You would be nothing without me. You ARE nothing without me. You do not understand how lucky you are to be in this position! To still be alive! And yet you dare test me, like a fly under the hoof of a horse.
"I'm not a fly," Tachi said.
Say what you want, you ilk, they spat. I will not be listening to any of it.
They let go of the shackles and Tachi fell onto his side. His head pulsed bright red; it was probably bleeding. There was no way to check.
His eyelids felt so heavy. But if he closed them, would they ever open again? What if he had to endure this for the sake of... of whatever they were doing?
A pang of fear coursed through him. Had he forgotten? They were in Snez, they were in Snezhnaya and Xiao was there...
But Tachi was also in his body now. In the... in the past?
Onto your knees, the voice hissed.
Tachi grunted as he did what they demanded and rolled onto his knees. He kept his head bowed low.
If this was a dream, then there had to be a way to break out of it. He just had to find his opening.
Chin. Up.
Tachi obeyed, keeping his eyes tightly screwed shut.
A cold hand once more squeezed his lips together. He struggled only once, being rewarded with a slap once more for his trouble.
Liquid dribbled into the back of his throat and he coughed. The voice snapped at him once more to swallow so he refused, attempting to spit it back out. But the second hand went to his throat, holding his head up so he had no choice.
It went down like lava, tearing his throat apart. He coughed, and kept coughing, choking on his own spittle in the process.
He caught only vague shadows of threats from the voice hovering over him. They barked at him and jeered, laughing when he shortly lost consciousness and his head fell back into their clawed hand.
Eyes on me, boy.
Tachi shook his head. No. No, no, no. No matter what, he would not look at them. He had known of Xiao's daymares enough to know he didn't want to see them.
A sharp-nailed hand closed around his eye and split the lids apart. Sharp, bright pain coursed through his cornea as he beheld them for the first time.
He didn't see much but he was grateful for that. He didn't need to see to understand the oppressive, dark force sucking the life out of his thin frame.
Whatever he had consumed bubbled in his stomach. His head sparked with more pain and the voice shouted at him once more. But at the glance of a bright, judgmental eye, Tachi suddenly felt his body giving out again, his spirit probably trying to escape from its physical hell.
This time, Tachi didn't close his eyes. But the body shut down all the same, the pupils rolling into the back of his skull.
Tachi opened his eyes again to puffy, white clouds that he could reach out and touch. He glanced down to find himself barefoot, his weight sinking beneath puffs of white and pink. He felt that warm, indiscernible feeling that only came with other human contact.
He found it surprising that he could tread across the clouds like stepping stones. He walked down the path toward a faded light in the distance.
The closer Tachi got, the more the image took on shape. They were dreams, dreams of someone's life. Like panes of a mirror, different shards floated near him, depicting different scenes. A family sitting down for dinner. Children laughing and playing in a small riverbank. A woman reading in her bed.
Tachi's stomach growled. Or, er, it wasn't his stomach, was it?
But this time, unlike the vision prior, his body knew reflexively what to do. It reached out with its hands and twisted at the images, like pulling threads of sugar together to make a cloud of cotton candy. Distorted, black holes remained in the places Tachi tore apart as he coiled the image tightly together and brought it to his mouth.
Tachi tasted, with startling clarity, the texture of tofu slipping between his teeth and dissolving into sugar on his tongue. The throat that had once been burning abated. The tears at the edges of his eyes dried.
Tachi glanced at the vacant space where a dream had once floated. It had left behind a dark void, a shadow. The same people who had once been sitting down enjoying dinner or playing outside were now dark, faceless figures with long, unnatural limbs and the same mistlike appearance the karmic debt had given Xiao. Tachi felt the pressure of their gaze on him and shrunk away when the figures began to move in his direction.
He turned his head, seeking a way out, but he only discovered more dreams that had been torn apart, oozing anguish and nightmarish figures that had once comprised such a pleasant-looking dreamscape.
They crept closer and closer, and yet, it didn’t occur to Tachi to scream. It barely occurred to him to push them away. It was as though the reflex had completely disappeared.
He squeezed his eyes shut as the first hand reached out and stroked his arm. His muscles tensed, his lips screwed into a disgusted grimace, and he clenched his hands tightly closed. Nails clawed into his flesh and his throat seized up into a wrangled cry as the shadows engulfed him.
Tachi had felt this sort of sensation before, hadn’t he? Down in the Abyss, scavenging for materials, treading into places that never should have been discovered to witness horrors far beyond his imagination.
Hands stroked his cheeks and down his throat, stealing the breath from his lungs. They curled between his toes and fingers, filling in all the gaps of negative space that once surrounded him until they consumed him entirely.
Tachi forced his eyes closed and willed himself not to move. Not to open his eyes again for anything.
With a sudden shock, he felt the sensation Xiao had once told him about. The feeling of someone taking his head and clutching it between their hands. The pressure was almost too much— vessels strained and muscles screamed.
Then it popped.
He popped.
He fell to his knees and succumbed once more to the darkness, the cold suddenly gone.
The pain eased immediately, just like the relief of a cool breeze on the back of Tachi’s nape.
When consciousness returned to him almost immediately, Tachi was tempted not to open his eyes. What torturous thing would he encounter next? The Archon War? Witnessing a Yaksha die? Some brutal injury?
Tachi wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He had not really been built to fight. But one could also argue he had not been built to love, and yet, he did both.
Tachi sucked in a slow, even breath. He imagined his ideal dream— sitting across from Xiao on the floor in his room back in Wangshu Inn, staring at him as he taught him how to meditate.
Tachi’s body started to take on more gravity. He felt the weight of his limbs— all of them, gleefully— and the sensation of air traveling in and out of his windpipe and out his nose. His tongue licked his dry lips as he registered the sound of someone talking.
The inside of his eyelids flooded with the bright red of sunlight filtering through his skin.
“Who is this? Is he breathing?”
A voice spoke that Tachi didn’t recognize. It was deep but gentle. Concerned yet not without its guard up.
“Yes, he will live.”
The second voice was one Tachi did recognize. Zhongli’s voice hovered over his head, just as deep and rich as Tachi had last remembered it. Tachi pried his eyes open and stared at the dizzying angle presented to him.
He saw clouds. He saw a light blue sky and thin strands of Zhongli’s hair shining golden in summer sunlight. Tachi felt little pains across his body but nothing as intense as the ones that had come before.
Tachi felt the strange compulsion to curl into the touch. To close his eyes again and continue the dream he’d already started to construct in his mind.
Is this what it felt like to be handled gently by a god? Not that Nahida’s touch wasn’t gentle but she wasn’t exactly large enough to hold him like this.
Zhongli lowered his arms and Tachi’s feet hit earth again. They were bare and tender, the flesh brushing against scratchy grass. Tachi noticed a flash of his hair— still green. Because it was Xiao’s, Tachi remembered with a start. He felt for injuries on his face and was met with nothing, although his legs started to give out underneath him and Zhongli reached out to steady him with a touch to his shoulder.
Tachi looked around him. Everyone was staring at him. There were more people he didn’t recognize— a woman with fire for hair, a man in a long coat, another woman with giant clawed hands, and a man with four arms.
”So he was the one the evil god was rumored to have enslaved,” the one with four arms — Bosacius, Tachi recalled — said.
“Can I entrust him with you for now? I still have other matters I must attend to before I am able to commit fully to any new contracts. And he needs medical care.”
"Come, we'll get you something to eat," the blue one— Bonanus, wasn't it?— said.
Tachi only managed a nod, bowing his head in a quick gesture, before following after them down a sloping hill.
Tachi lifted his hands to stare at thin cuts drawn all along the inside of his palms and curving down to his forearms. His skin looked like a shattered window, revealing small rivers of dried blood underneath. His tongue tasted of iron at the sight and he grimaced.
He had wanted so badly to exchange stronger words with the god that Rex Lapis presumably defeated. But in the moment, things had moved so quickly and he had been so exhausted in so many ways that the best he could do was just attempt to survive. Is that what it had been like for Xiao all that time ago? That unrelenting pressure and fear that he'd be in those shackles forever, shouted at and called that name that still brought a strange look to his eyes?
The only relief had been the dream-eating that the god forced him into. Xiao had never told Tachi much about it. Tachi never would have imagined it'd be like that. Like tearing the beautiful curtains off a window only to realize the utter turmoil waiting for him on the other side. It would be no surprise to Tachi if Xiao was still set upon by nightmares relating to it today. How many lives must he have touched with his scarred fingertips?
Tachi sighed and his nose stung. He let the tears come, suddenly realizing things about his own circumstances that he hadn't yet considered, either.
What if this was it for him? What if he was trapped here, left to forever relive Xiao's life? What if their lives were inextricably tied like this and Tachi was trapped inside his own mind? Or even worse, Xiao's? Would he have a body to go back to anymore if Dottore intentionally ruined the experiment?
More fear surged through him at the realization that it could even be the opposite. Xiao could be in Tachi's world right now too, witnessing him cut down hordes of innocents or—
"Bosacius, hold on a second! I think the little one is hurt!" Indarias called.
Their line stopped. Menogias turned around with a handkerchief in his hand and knelt to wipe at the tears that had gathered down Tachi's chin.
Tachi noticed the others gawking and closed his eyes. What a shameless display.
"We’ll get you in a bath soon to wipe off the grime," Bosacius said. "There will be centuries to wash off, I'm sure."
"Is there anything else you need?" Bonanus asked, lingering behind Menogias's shoulder. "Maybe a bed to rest?"
"I do not need sleep," Xiao's body said, still running on its own script, its own rules. This was his memory; perhaps that is how he had said it the first time.
"We will see if you're still saying that later," Bosacius said. "Indarias's meals can make you feel surprisingly lethargic."
"I hope you mean that as a good thing," Indarias quipped.
Maybe in a different time, Tachi would have wanted to join in the banter. But he could not keep his mind from drifting to places he didn’t want it to go, thinking about people and events both past and future that returned the pains to his body. No matter how wide the stretch of grasslands or warm the sunlight, a world without Xiao didn’t have the same touch of comfort to it that it had in the past.
When had that happened? That Xiao had become Tachi’s light-bringer, the one he thought about whenever he came up with something interesting to say or just wanted to hold his long, slender fingers and kiss the mark on his forehead to bring the joy back into Tachi’s life?
Tachi glanced down at those hands again. What could he do to ensure these hands remained unsullied in the future? What did he have to do to make sure scars like this never appeared again?
The yakshas brought Tachi to a cropping of trees by a river. Some stones had been fashioned into a semicircle around an old campfire. They were low enough to sit on, so Tachi did, taking the one on the far end nearest the river.
The other yakshas worked as a perfectly complete unit without him having to lift a finger. One lit the fire; another brought out a pot and put it over the flickering flames. And, finally, someone else fetched water from the river and even prepared a wet rag to press against Tachi’s forehead.
He felt so tired. Even if he tried to get up, he probably wouldn’t be able to manage it. He thought bitterly of the fact that this was probably his only chance to see what it would feel like inside Xiao’s body and he could not even attempt any of the yaksha powers he had been so infatuated by those few years ago as Mochou. He could only manage to close his eyes and hunch over uncomfortably, hand stuck against the nape of his neck, feeling more dried blood there.
The other yakshas kept casual conversation with each other. They trusted and very obviously loved each other. Tachi could almost imagine being jealous if he had been younger and more ignorant of the world. Scaramouche would have wanted to tear the smiles off their faces personally. It was the sort of joy and family he had been envious of for a long time. The sort he had thought nobody deserved because he could not have it for himself.
That, at least, brought Tachi some relief. To know that Xiao had found the thing Tachi had desired more than anything for so long, even if only for a brief moment, lessened the ache and fear in Tachi’s heart.
Tachi had wanted to snap when Bonanus sat down beside him and dabbed at his face again without warning. But he didn’t find he had the energy for it. Perhaps, after being manipulated by the fallen god for so long, he no longer felt the reflex to defend against unwanted touches across his body. But her touches were gentle anyway. If they hadn’t been, surely he would have tried to express the displeasure somehow.
“I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve had something good to eat,” Indarias said.
She had sat down across from him, working at stoking the fire. Tachi had been keeping close tabs on what she added to the pot, but after a while, he had lost track. Whatever they had for dinner was anybody’s guess.
They served Tachi first, filling the bowl to the brim. It wafted sweetly into Tachi’s nostrils and made his stomach growl. Bosacius laughed as he filled up another bowl and handed it down the line toward Bonanus.
“Everyone eat up,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”
Once Tachi emptied his bowl, he leaned down and set it on the ground. He thought absently how ironic it was that the positions would be switched like this— after so recently cooking Xiao’s meals for him all along their journey to Snezhnaya, it turned out it had been the same in the past, too, even if it were Tachi occupying his body for the moment.
He rose from his seat and walked down toward the water. It was a full moon; it gleamed soft blue-white reflections on the water. Tachi sat down and pulled his knees up to his chest. Being trapped inside one’s mind certainly was a special kind of torture. At least in the past, there had always been a path forward. A way that clearly said, “there’s something you can do to change the way things are.” But, looking around, this reminded him of the dream trawler power Madame Ping had used on him once before. Seemed a little too impenetrable from his position as a bystander pulled along by someone else’s plot.
At Tachi’s side, he heard someone shuffle to sit down next to him. He turned, expecting it to be Boascius, and found the blue shadows of Bonanus and her giant hands instead. When Bonanus set her palms down on the ground, one of the downturned claws brushed lightly against Tachi’s clothing. Clothing someone else had given him, he realized, when he hadn’t been paying attention to the progression of his own dream.
“I know you must be so terrified,” Bonanus said. “I’m sure it’s been a long time since you last saw the moon.”
Tachi didn’t say anything. He hadn’t thought about that. But upon hearing her say it, he knew she was right.
“But you don’t have to be afraid anymore,” Bonanus said. “We won’t let anything bad happen to you again. You’ll be safe with us. After all, as yaksha, we have sworn to protect Liyue, and each other, from harm.”
“How much am I meant to believe that?” Tachi whispered.
Bonanus laughed lightly. “That’s a fair question. I guess it’ll be mine and the others’ jobs to prove to you that it’s true.”
A flicker of red reflected across the water. Bonanus turned her head up toward the source. Indarias’s head flickered with flame still. She lifted a thumb, jutting it out behind her shoulder.
“Beds have been prepared,” she said. “Or… meditation mats, whichever your preference.”
The wink at the end of her sentence made Tachi roll his eyes. But under the fall of night, the others didn’t notice as he rose onto his feet and followed them to the beds.
The bedding was made of a collection of grasses and straw with a few blankets thrown over for good measure. When Tachi’s back hit it, he sunk down and his eyes closed of their own volition. He already heard Bosacius snoring deeply nearby and the others laughing at him as they sunk down into their beds, too.
“Is there anything we can get you?” Bonanus whispered once she had settled into the bed across from Tachi.
Tachi felt paralyzed to do anything. His body had been denied rest for so long that he was sure he wouldn’t be able to lift his head even if ordered. He cracked open his mouth, pushing with great effort the words he had wanted to say from the beginning.
“I want to go home,” Tachi whispered.
“I know,” Bonanus answered. “You’ll be there soon.”
And then Tachi closed his eyes again, breathing out an exhausted sigh as Indarias’s flames flickered and gradually tapered out behind his closed eyelids.
When Tachi opened his eyes again, he was laying down in bed and staring up at a ceiling. He sat up and looked over the room. He recognized the weapons hung up on the nearby wall. He also noticed the weight of hair still resting over his shoulders and the gloves covering his hands. It was bright and sunny out again, his skin kissed by warm springtime.
So, he was still in Xiao's body in his dream world but obviously further into the future if he was in his room in Wangnshu Inn now.
He exhaled a deep sigh. Once all of these past moments ended, would he finally be free of them?
A knock at the door drew Tachi's attention toward it. He pushed himself onto his feet, strode across the floor, and grabbed the handle. He squeezed it in his palm and gathered his courage before exhaling and opening it.
On the other side stood himself.
Tachi swallowed and took a step backward. His other self wore his outfit with the sleeves pulled back and a wide smile on his lips. In his hands he held a shallow wooden box that made Tachi's lips go dry.
"I hope I didn't interrupt your rest," Mochou said. "I brought something for you!"
Tachi’s heart dropped into his stomach and he swallowed.
"There's no need," Tachi said.
He made to close the door but Mochou stuck his hand in at the last second. Tachi froze and withdrew again, not seeking to cause his other self any legitimate harm.
This was all a dream anyway. What did it matter if he behaved himself? Why did he feel compelled to anyway? Perhaps because he didn't want to sully Xiao's image, even if it was from an interaction with Tachi's other self.
"I'll only need a minute," Mochou said.
He opened the door wider and trod into the room right up to Tachi to push the box into the middle of his stomach. "These are for you."
Tachi grabbed the box and looked down. He thought he actually remembered this. Was this another memory? One of those that had been too tender for him to reminisce upon once he had gotten recollection of his other memories back?
Tachi slowly looked down.
There were neat stacks of slips of paper inside.
"They're talismans," Mochou explained. "I made them for you to make your job easier."
"I don't need these," Tachi said. After all, Xiao didn't exorcise demons that way. He fought with his spear and had definitely mentioned that at least once in conversations with Tachi before.
"Oh." Mochou's eyes turned sad. He played with his hands and Tachi frowned. "Um, well, are you busy right now?"
Oh, how Tachi wished he could say “yes” and turn Mochou away. It wasn’t because Tachi hated him. That certainly wasn’t the emotion he’d pair with the feeling. But he wasn’t sure what worked better in its place. He only knew that he didn’t like when Mochou looked at him that way and that Tachi had been so occupied with Xiao’s problems as of late that it hadn’t even occurred to him that he might miss Mochou, too.
But now that Mochou stood in front of him like this, how could Tachi deny the small ache of longing it brought with him? And the similar undercurrent of apprehension that made his muscles tense up and his fingernails dig into the box in his hand?
“Xiao?” Mochou asked again. “Can I come in?”
Tachi exhaled slowly and nodded. He stepped aside, allowing Mochou to enter the room.
He’d gotten too weak to the influences of his other selves. He should have known all it would take was a gentle question posed in the right tone to make Tachi cave to its pleads, particularly done in a voice he felt sorry for or indebted to.
And yes, he might even call it love.
Mochou sat down on the edge of Xiao’s bed and swung his legs back and forth. “You’ll never believe what I did today!”
Tachi closed the door behind him and set the box down on the unoccupied side table.
Then he sat down beside Mochou and asked, “What?”
“I played with children outside!” Mochou said. “I think I like children. What about you?”
“They’re okay,” Tachi said.
They were a little annoying, to be honest. But they could be cute at times too and quite innocent. Being abundantly impressionable came with its advantages but its dangers, too. Dangers that Tachi knew all too well.
“Once I get older, I think it might be fun to take care of a child,” Mochou said. An uneasy laugh slid from his lips. “I say that as though I haven’t been wandering around for a few hundred years already. But sometimes it feels like I wasn’t really a person until I met you, if that makes any sense. I just feel like… since meeting you, so much of my perspective on life has changed.”
“Why?” Tachi asked.
“I think it’s because you’ve made me think about people in a way I hadn’t before,” Mochou said. “It’s actually kind of fun spending time with them, you know. You could try it sometime, if you wanted. The staff and I sometimes have dinners together and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you came along, too.”
“You know I can’t,” Tachi said. “I have my karmic debt.”
He said it reflexively. Now that Tachi thought about it, Xiao used to say those sort of things to him quite often. That he wasn’t able to go for one reason or the other. Always making excuses out of an abundance of caution or feeling like he’d be unsuited for that kind of company.
“You can just be honest and say it’s because you don’t want to spend time with them,” Mochou said.
“That’s not it,” Tachi said. “I just don’t want to endanger anyone.”
“You wouldn’t endanger me,” Mochou said. “Let’s go somewhere sometime, just the two of us. We’ll grab hot pot and you can eat as much as you want.”
Tachi wasn't sure when it had started to happen but the world had started to dip into a shade of red as though there was a wildfire nearby. Long, angular shadows stretched across the floor from behind the curtain. Tachi rose onto his feet and approached the window as Mochou spoke.
“I’ve always appreciated our time together," Mochou said. "Please agree to spend some more time with me?"
Tachi sighed. He turned around once more and stared into his eyes.
Mochou said it with a twinge of genuineness that hurt to listen to. But even so, Tachi had broken people's hearts before.
"I'm sorry, I have to go," Tachi said.
Mochou stared at him a long while. Was he processing being part of someone's dream programming? Or was this just how the moment had been like the first time it had happened? Tachi wasn't sure. Tachi only knew that Mochou rose onto his feet with a dejected air and walked across the carpet to meet Tachi in the center.
When Mochou hugged him, Tachi had been so unprepared that his arms flailed out at his sides before gradually lowering to rest on the curve of Mochou's back.
Mochou hid his face against Tachi's shoulder and sighed. When he was close like this, it was even more obvious to Tachi that Xiao's body was shorter.
“Be safe," Mochou said. "I know I can't stop you from leaving but please... be safe."
"I will," Tachi said.
Mochou pulled back and attempted to flash a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Tachi lingered just a little with his touch, craving that warmth, craving the closeness of someone whom he felt loved him, especially when it was himself.
But the world had dipped into red now. Whatever was coming, it would be here soon. He did not want to be around Mochou to witness the facade of his own self shatter in front of him.
Tachi crossed the room and slid through the opened door without saying a proper goodbye. A proper goodbye would hurt too much; he wouldn't be able to handle it. Instead, he hit one of the bridges circling the outer edge of the inn and took another look at the sky.
The sun had turned a dark, deep red, tainting everything in its bright shade. Tachi lifted his head to it as a sharp pang traveled from his head down to his feet, rippling and tearing through him like a surgeon's knife peeling him in half. He collapsed to his knees and screamed in shock as it happened once more, that searing, all-over pain beginning at the top of his head and shooting straight down to his feet.
Was this what it felt like to be electrocuted over and over again? His body shuttered and groaned, the construction coming loose along with his consciousness. He barely sucked in air for another scream before the pain had stolen Tachi’s consciousness, his last flicker of vision catching more of those elongated shadows lingering behind the curtains in Xiao's bedroom.
Notes:
tysm for reading!!
Next week: #pulverizedottore for real
Edit 10/09: I have published the raffle fic! "I'm Too Tired, You're Too Tired" is a short sickfic oneshot!
Below is a little something I've decided to do!
tl;dr: I'm doing a prompt raffle to write someone's scaraxiao story idea!!Saru’s Xiao/Scara Raffle
How it works:
- Leave a comment on this chapter to participate
- Can be a usual comment or prompt or both; I can ask for the prompt later if needed
- Next week, Wed, Sept. 20, I will do the drawing and announce the results at the end of Chapter 39 in the Author’s Notes
- If I do not have the person’s prompt at that point, I will ask for it in the announcements
- If there are 4 days of no response (meaning: no response by Sept. 24), I will draw again and announce again with the fic update on Sunday
- Worst-case scenario I will discuss the prompt with the winner in the comments. (This is also true if I have any clarifying questions)
- My goal is to write the oneshot quickly so it posts with the final chapter of my longfic but that depends on the scope of the prompt! It will be posted as a separate fic, so subscribing to me is the best way to ensure you see when it comes out!
- If I succeed and it posts on Oct. 1, I will include a link at the end of this fic
Rules:
- ONE admission per username (I am going by the honor rule and expecting you not to spam with guest comments)
- The prompt must focus on the scaramouche/xiao (or vice versa) relationship. I can’t guarantee writing any other background ships but if any are mentioned, I will consider them!
- One admission doesn't strictly HAVE to be one prompt, but know that if a singular person posts multiple, I will choose one to write.
- If you give me multiple, please be comfortable with me writing any of them but not ALL of them.
- It will be a minimum of at least 1,000 words with no maximum and a soft deadline of October 1.
- Please keep the prompts to the same as this fic’s content warnings. As in, No Archive Warnings Apply. This means no Major Character Death and no Graphic Violence, etc. It also means a T rating or less. I will not write Mature or Explicit content.
- Your prompt can be as big or as small as you want! I have a right to refuse to write something I find uncomfortable but for the most part am very open to writing various things. It does not have to directly relate to this longfic but absolutely feel free to ask for that if you want!!
- feel free to ask me questions in the comments!!
- If for any reason you don’t want to participate and just want to comment as usual, just let me know and I can keep you off the list for the raffle. <3
I am slightly sorry this is at the bottom of the fic and not in a social media post or something but this is the easiest way to talk to everyone, haha. You don’t need to have commented before to be participate. Have fun and good luck! I have appreciated all the comments I have received on this fic over the course of posting it and I want to give something back to those wonderful people who have encouraged me along the way. I also thought, perhaps there’s something I didn’t write in this story that people wanted to see, so I thought this would be a great opportunity to hear about those things
Chapter 38: Shadow of Sin
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Xiao woke to an earthquake.
The sensation had felt comforting at first, akin to a baby being rocked to sleep in a carriage. But then the lethargy had started to melt away when he reached up to wipe his eyes. He heard the high-pitched squeak of the operation tools rattling against each other on the rolling tray. He heard pebbles and other rubble falling from the ceiling and hitting the ground. He sat up, feeling a strange absence of any pain aside from a dull throb in his forearm, and looked around.
The earthquake stopped as Xiao's eyes landed on Dottore standing over Tachi's body. Xiao stared at the long, immobile legs resting at the one end of the bed. He stared at the high collar of Dottore's jacket and the shock of mussed blue hair splayed across the back of his scalp.
Xiao swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself onto his feet. The movement came easily; no dizziness came when he rose onto his legs. He felt light as air, a feeling he had long ago thought he would never experience again.
“What did you do to him?" Xiao asked.
"Oh, you're awake," Dottore said. His tone sound playfully intrigued.
He turned around, revealing a row of grinning jagged teeth as a gloved hand slid into his coat. But Xiao's eyes had caught on the bright red flash of the sphere before Dottore had been able to fully conceal it.
"You said you would keep him awake," Xiao hissed.
"Oh, you naïve little thing," Dottore said. "Do you believe everything adults tell you?"
"Don't you dare infantilize me," Xiao said. "I am not one to be trifled with."
"I do recall being told such a thing before, yes," Dottore said. "Now, if that will be all, I shall take my leave..."
He rolled his eyes as though bored of the whole ordeal and strode across the floor toward the door. Xiao darted forward using his wind cycling skill, space bending around him as he moved effortlessly through it. The way the energy surged around and teleported him made a burst of euphoria flutter in his heart. Xiao summoned his spear to his side, bringing it up to Dottore's throat once he closed the distance between them.
"You aren't going anywhere," Xiao growled. He glanced back down to where Dottore's hand clutched at his chest. "You have not finished your end of the deal yet."
"You may be from the land where people respect their little contracts, but I am afraid not all people are so steadfast to their promises," Dottore said.
"Wake him up."
"He is already awake," Dottore said.
Xiao breathed in slow and steady as he glanced to Tachi's bed. Tachi had risen to sit on the edge of the frame, his legs slung over the edge. Xiao stared at the thin material of the bodysuit just as he had so many times before, examining the curve of his spine and the scars from where the tubes had once been injecting poison into his body.
Tachi slumped over, holding his head in his hands, as a stream of karmic energy oozed from his figure. Xiao's heart pulsed with shock and he whipped his head back toward Dottore where the spear's sharp edge nicked his throat.
"What did you do to him?" Xiao hissed.
"I did as you asked," Dottore said. "Why? Is there a problem?"
A teasing grin snaked across his lips as he reached into his coat once more.
In a quick flash, Dottore struck out with a knife aimed at Xiao's throat. Xiao flicked his spear to teleport away into his pocket dimension, leaving him bare handed to grip Dottore's wrist and wrench the knife from his hand. Xiao grabbed it instead, white-knuckled and tight in his hand, as Dottore scrambled once more.
Before Dottore was given a chance to do anything else, Xiao reached Dottore's coat and wrenched the embryo from his fingertips.
"That is for Tachi," Xiao hissed as a startled gasp slipped from Dottore's lips and Xiao sent the orb away for safekeeping. “…And this is for Scaramouche."
Xiao grabbed Dottore's wrist, twisting it just as he had Xiao's forearm. Xiao brought Dottore's own jagged knife down upon his wrist, using enough force to cleave it in two. Xiao heard the sickening tear of bone split from bone and then the splat of the severed hand hitting the floor. Dottore screamed out in pain and reeled back, gripping the stub against his chest, blood spurting from the open wound.
"You absolute cur!" Dottore shouted. "You cut my fucking hand off when I have done nothing but as you asked?"
"Be grateful I protect others of your kind or I would have slain you where you stand. Now get out of my sight before I make it so."
"You will rue the day you crossed paths with me," Dottore spat, bloodied hand scrambling for the door, wrenching it open as Xiao stood and watched. "I will have my revenge against you!"
"I don't doubt that," Xiao quipped, perhaps a little under his breath, as Dottore slid out into the crumbling hallway beyond.
Xiao dropped the knife with a hasty clang and rushed to Tachi's side.
He wasn't breathing, which in and of itself was not strange. But it was odd how Tachi barely seemed to register Xiao's presence until Xiao touched his shoulder, eyebrows knitted together with worry.
"Tachi—"
Tachi jerked away from him as another tremor shook his bed. His features had twisted, the eyes hazy and neon-bright, the nails long and shaking.
"Don't touch me," Tachi hissed.
"The building is collapsing. We have to escape," Xiao insisted once more.
But Tachi had stopped listening. He held his head in a hand once more, the other pushing Xiao away with a half-hearted zeal.
"What is wrong?" Xiao asked.
"You— have— to go," Tachi choked out.
Another burst of karmic debt flowed from him. The arm that had been stripped open crackled with debt.
Xiao barely had the time to process that it crackled. Even when it had been within his body, it didn't do that. Was it incompatible with Tachi's body? Was it breaking free? What sort of form would it take?
Xiao reached once more for Tachi when he exploded, the only warning a bright flash accompanied by a rush of heat.
Xiao saw nothing. He staggered backward, reflexively summoning his spear to his hand, and braced himself. The ceiling began to crumble above their heads, and at first, Xiao thought Tachi may have been flung somewhere or collapsed. That was until Xiao realized the black he saw was the figure of a giant leg and clawed foot so close to him he could feel the bright, sharp sting of the debt sprouting across his skin like goosebumps.
"Tachi?" Xiao shouted, his eyes darting across what he could see of the floor. He zipped forward, searching more, as the giant creature loomed over him. A metallic crunch echoed through the room as something— either a column or foot— landed on top of the metal tray Dottore had been using.
"Tachi, we have to go!" Xiao shouted.
The ground that had been empty rapidly filled with random detritus. Xiao looked up once more, taking in the form of the beast he assumed was a manifestation of his debt.
There was something terribly human-shaped about the left side of the creature's chest. Tachi hovered in vines and tendrils of sin and debt that curled tightly around him.
Anemo and electro flickered through the dust-covered air, rendering it difficult to breathe. Xiao coughed, bringing up a hand to wheeze through the musk, and dashed away before a hand could swipe into his legs.
"Tachi! Wake up!" Xiao shouted.
The giant took a step forward, the earth shaking underneath him. He reached down and plucked the machine up that had stood between the beds, wires ripping and sparking with electricity. Tachi tossed it in Xiao's direction but Xiao was faster, darting out of the way in time to avoid it.
But he hadn't expected to run headfirst into a bolt of electro that shot him down, leaving him dazed a second too long.
Tachi's hand closed around Xiao's middle but it wasn't his hand as he knew it. It was clawed, larger than Xiao's whole body, and shockingly hot. Xiao's spear struck out against it, carving a line through the palm. The energy immediately closed around the would-be wound like thick mist on a rainy day, though it had flickered long enough for Xiao to fall through it and back to the ground.
“Tachi!” Xiao shouted.
Tachi didn't listen, only threw down another hand, attempting to sweep Xiao away along with the floor.
His palm connected, shooting Xiao across the room. His back hit stone with a solid thud and he gasped for air, throat and nose clogged with dust. Xiao forced himself onto his legs in time to avoid being trampled, training his eyes on Tachi's form.
Flashes of dreamscapes opened up in front of Xiao. He remembered dreams of flying, of taking to skies he had not tasted in countless years. He sucked in one long breath then exhaled, the air leaving his lungs in one deep sweep, as Xiao imagined wings sprouting from his back.
He heard it more than he felt it— a sharp rip of fabric and then a flutter of feathers as he shot into the sky toward Tachi.
Xiao's hands opened and he reached for Tachi through the dark energy. It felt like reaching into molasses, his hands sinking slowly into the black ichor.
“Come on,” Xiao grunted, his wings flapping, as Tachi’s form raised a fist and brought it down upon Xiao once more.
He hit the ground with another thud. His spine burned and he tasted blood. He spat it out and pushed himself onto his legs once more just in time to watch the ceiling collapse.
Xiao had precious seconds to act. When chunks of ceiling fell down upon Tachi’s head, they sunk into the black like stones into water. Xiao had seen the karmic debt do strange things— it bubbled, it crackled. And just as Xiao had seen moments prior, it burst.
Xiao had succumbed to the debt like this before. He was all too familiar with the black rays that shot out from Tachi’s form to cover the room. Xiao took flight once more, navigating through stone, and spotted Tachi falling quickly through the dust. Xiao shot forward with his arms open, Tachi’s limp body slumping into Xiao’s embrace.
Xiao lifted his head up, searching for a stray opening by way of square of winter sky.
One such window appeared and Xiao shot through it, listening to the crumbling continue behind him. The world outside burst with color, namely from a bright golden ray that shot from the center of the palace up toward the sky. It shrouded the world with its light, like a beacon up toward Celestia, which hovered half-hidden by clouds.
Xiao angled his eyes back down. He looked at where the city had become a smattering of corpses and smoldering houses. He dropped onto his feet at the steps of the palace as the rubble settled and fire continued to crackle, bringing some warmth back to his otherwise cold body. A familiar figure appeared at Xiao’s side quickly enough to give him a heart attack.
“Xiao—”
Xiao lifted his head to Zhongli standing at his side.
It didn’t matter how he had known Xiao would be here. It didn’t even matter whether he was upset. The furrow of Zhongli’s eyebrows suggested as much but there was no time to dwell upon it. Xiao caught Zhongli staring at Tachi in his arms and perhaps at a stray bloodstain on his cheek.
"Do not worry, it isn't mine," Xiao said. “It’s Tachi, he needs care. Can you help? What do we do?”
“How did he come to be like this?”
“He took on my karmic debt.”
“Tachi broke his contract not to hurt you,” Zhongli explained, “so I came at once. Let us go; I think I may know exactly what he needs. But we must act quickly before the debt overcomes him again.”
Xiao only nodded as Zhongli touched his forearm lightly, the gloved hand closing around his skin. They teleported away together, Xiao squeezing Tachi tighter underneath his hands.
Notes:
Hellooo!!!
It was a very short chapter this week because I wanted to cut it for a thematic sort of change come next chapter. Also, I wanted a Xiao-only chapter for once!!!! Is that too much to ask!!!!
In alignment with how I announced the raffle last week, this week I drew from the pool of anyone who had commented on that chapter!
And our winner is... farsei!!!! Let me know what ideas you have for a prompt or two and I will get to writing! >:)
Thank you everyone for reading and commenting as always <3
Edit 10/09: I have published the fic! "I'm Too Tired, You're Too Tired" is a short sickfic oneshot!
Chapter 39: Fragile but Strong
Summary:
Tachi wakes up in a place that feels strangely familiar. Xiao adjusts to new changes in their life.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Tachi opened his eyes to darkness.
At first, he didn’t move, as if moving would break the spell of falsified comfort he felt. His fingers trembled and he again closed his eyes. He had not woken from a dead sleep feeling this terrified since he had fallen from the Shouki no Kami and woken days later in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.
He didn't know where he was. Or when he was. His body hurt, a twisted, unnatural ache all the way down to his artificial bones that made him wonder whether he was conscious at all or still asleep and dreaming.
He blinked but still saw nothing.
When he tried to recall his last memory, all he could think about was Xiao going under after Dottore had injected him with the serum that had knocked him unconscious. Tachi remembered that final look they had exchanged and the way his— wires, he supposed— had been alight with tension and adrenaline.
What had happened after that? There had been dreams of people Tachi didn't recognize, dreams that came to him like looking through frosted glass and only being able to make out the shadow of faces on the other side. He couldn’t even tell whom he had dreamt about. He couldn’t tell if they were people he was meant to know or just vague shells of strangers.
Tachi moved his hand and heard fabric shifting before he registered it underneath his wrist, the muscles warming awake. He squeezed his fingers in it, palms pressing into a mattress. The void started to take on color, the same bright blue that he had always found annoying before now.
Tachi saw the rest of the mattress underneath his cheek and a figure sitting in a chair level with where his head rested on a pillow. He saw the dull glow of anemo reflecting off a familiar bicep tattoo. Then Tachi noticed the almost black tresses falling down past Xiao’s shoulders and the absence of armor over a thin white shirt.
Xiao had been sitting still, his eyes closed, hands clasped in meditation on his lap. Upon feeling the glow of Tachi's light on his face, Xiao opened his eyes, casting his golden irises down to him.
Tachi's skin felt alive. He was sure he had a heart then because his body throbbed with the suspense of catching Xiao's gaze.
In the likely chance that this was a dream, Tachi spared a second to study Xiao's small but firm lips set into a frown. He stared at the lashes, the cheeks, any little detail he feared he’d miss once the moment ended.
Xiao pushed the chair back and Tachi gasped. The tightness in his chest had felt so heavy. Nothing had ever felt so suffocating before and nothing felt as refreshing as the intake of breath he drew in.
Tachi tried to say his name. It came out more as an incoherent, blabbering sound of surprise, but for once he found himself too exhausted to care.
“Zhuh—“ Tachi tried fruitlessly.
Xiao pulled back blankets Tachi didn't realize he'd been sleeping under. A faint cold hit his bare knees and he sucked in a small breath as the mattress sunk down with Xiao's weight.
Being able to see him mattered more than being comfortable. Tachi struggled to push himself up, his arms weary and weak, before managing to turn onto his other side in time to catch Xiao settling into the space next to him.
"It's okay," Xiao whispered and Tachi's world lit with warmth and color.
All the questions, all the fears and frustrations and worries he had, suddenly didn't matter. Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes as Xiao grabbed his hands and pulled them close. He wasn't sure he had ever touched Xiao's gloveless palms before.
Calluses made small ridges over his palms and Tachi worked the muscles in his hands by running his fingers over Xiao’s palms over and over again.
Xiao was here; he wasn't going anywhere. Everything was alright. Whatever had happened, there would be time for it in the morning.
Tachi shuffled a little closer. Xiao smelled sharp and sweet, like qingxin flowers. Like the earth after it rained. So refreshing, capable of washing away every weight that had burdened him. Tachi nestled his chin against Xiao's shoulder and closed his eyes. A second later, he felt a leg knock against his, more skin together than he had felt in a long, long time.
But he would never possibly dream of moving away.
When Tachi woke in the morning, Xiao had coiled himself around Tachi's middle, warm arms pressed into his navel where his shirt had ridden up.
The last time they had shared a bed together, it hadn't been like this. Xiao had kept his guard up all through the night, as stiff as a board. By comparison, this time he felt so... relaxed. As though he didn't have a care in the world.
Tachi opened his eyes and surveyed the room from what he could see over Xiao's head nestled into his stomach. This was his room in Sumeru; the crown moulding on the walls and ceiling was one giveaway along with the green hues. At this point, so long as it wasn't Inazuma nor Snez, he was happy.
"You never used to feel so heavy," Tachi whispered when he tried to move and found that he couldn't.
He gave up and stayed still instead as Xiao hummed in acknowledgement next to him and moved away. Come to think of it, Tachi had always felt hollow inside. (Physically hollow, mind.) But when he had woken last night, and again now, it felt like someone had filled his arms and legs with sand. And lots of it. He found himself struggling to make movements that used to come so easily to him. It couldn't have been because he had gone for some time without his vision, could it? Had that bastard done something to him that he couldn't remember?
Xiao sat up and shuffled out of bed. Tachi stared up at him as he extended a hand down to him.
Oh, the irony. How Xiao had depended on him so long only for him to be the one standing over Tachi now. Tachi couldn't deny that he kind of liked it. At least he felt less ashamed accepting Xiao's help than he would anyone else's.
Tachi reached out for Xiao's hand and, before he knew it, Xiao yanked him into a sitting position. Tachi winced; why did he feel a pop in his elbow joint when Xiao did that?
"Sorry, I'm still getting used to having my powers back," Xiao said.
"Power?" Tachi repeated. "What— what power? My power?"
Xiao's eyebrows curled up in confusion. "No. Do you not remember?"
Tachi shook his head.
Xiao chewed on his bottom lip.
"Don't look at me like that," Tachi bemoaned. "I remember everything else. I just don't remember what happened after the operating room."
"Hm," Xiao hummed.
"What? What did I do?" Tachi asked.
"I am not sure how to explain," Xiao said.
He turned his head toward the door as though expecting the answer to come walking in. Then he turned back toward Tachi.
"Are you able to walk?"
Tachi scoffed. "Of course I'm able to—“
He began to push himself up to make a point only for his weight to drag him back down onto the mattress. He grunted.
Xiao approached and held out his hand again.
"I won't pull so hard this time," he said, which only made Tachi a little more grumpy as he accepted the help and rose onto shaky legs.
They felt so thin compared to the rest of his body as if he was about to crumble in on himself at any moment. But he managed to steady himself and gave Xiao a nod to step aside.
"Everything is so heavy," Tachi said.
"Does anything hurt?"
"No, aside from a headache."
"Hm," Xiao hummed.
Those damn furrowed eyebrows weren't giving much confidence, though.
"We're going to the sanctuary, aren't we?" Tachi asked as Xiao took the first steps toward the door.
Xiao cast a glance toward him and nodded.
"Where are my things?"
"Over here," Xiao said, then strode across the room toward Tachi’s dresser. When laying down, he hadn't been high enough to see his kimonos and other effects lying in a folded pile there.
"Did you need anything?" Xiao asked.
"My vision and my—“ Tachi paused, considering his words. "The red thing."
Xiao picked them out of the pile and approached with the blue strip of fabric and the trinkets hanging from it. Tachi slung it over his shoulder and adjusted the trailing strip to fold into the belt around his waist.
"Okay, let's go," Tachi said.
Tachi struggled to contain some disappointment that he hadn't been the one to introduce Xiao to Nahida for the first time. He hadn't gotten to be there to see what sort of expression had been on her face. Had she been impressed that Tachi had met such a person? Or maybe curious? Perhaps he'd never know.
The usual feeling of anticipation crept up on him the closer they got to the sanctuary though he staved it off by thinking about Sumeru.
Home. It wasn’t a word Tachi ever thought would suit a place again. But Sumeru had become his recent home, the second thing he thought when he heard the word. First being, of course, Xiao. The architecture, the smells and sounds, and even the damn humans in their gaudy Akademiya uniforms scattered throughout the city felt so familiar.
Tachi returned the hat to his head to block out the sunlight and walked behind Xiao up the winding paths to the Sanctuary. Xiao took a wrong turn toward the Akademiya and Tachi tutted.
"This way," he said, gesturing to the other path.
"This place is so complicated," Xiao said. "I understand why you fly."
He fell back into step with Tachi as they made it up another winding stone path together.
"After two years, it begins to feel more familiar than the back of your hand," Tachi said. "It's difficult for me to get lost anymore."
Xiao hummed. Tachi looked over at him again.
He considered something, anything, to say but nothing came to mind except the fear that he had hurt Xiao. He had promised himself. He had promised Zhongli that he would never do that. Xiao didn’t show any sign of injury but perhaps enough time had passed that he had healed from it.
They reached the large doors and Tachi lifted his arms to push them open. He faced more resistance than he expected, the weight suddenly more solid than it had been the last time he'd tried to open them.
Xiao made it look so easy when he approached and pushed the door open with what was essentially just a tap of his palm. The doors creaked open, revealing the chamber within, and Tachi stepped forward.
"Nahida, we're here," Tachi called to the room before he even spotted her down the small slope to its center, though Tachi closed the distance rapidly to find his eyes on her.
She turned around and his chest lit with relief. She looked just how he had remembered: Small, happy, and so, so important.
"Good morning," Nahida said. "How are you feeling?"
"Like shit," Tachi said as he approached, maybe a little too eager in his wide strides until he stopped just in front of her. "I don't remember what happened to me on the operating table and Xiao refuses to tell me anything."
"Does anything hurt?" Nahida asked. She reached out for the sides of his arms, running her fingers over his elbows.
"My pride, a little."
Nahida laughed. "No, I mean physically!"
"I'm a little sore but otherwise fine."
“Let's grab some breakfast and then I can explain."
"How long was I asleep?"
"Just overnight," Nahida said.
She looked back over him again. He suddenly became conscious of his appearance. Did he look okay? Was there something on his face to make her expression screw up in concentration like that?
"C'mon, we'll talk more over breakfast," she insisted.
Xiao followed Tachi and Nahida out of the sanctuary and back down into the city.
He had always worried about injuring others with his presence, about risking the health and safety of strangers just by merely standing near them. He hadn't yet gotten comfortable even breathing the same air as them, though he did his best to mirror Nahida and Tachi's lax demeanors.
Tachi grumbled under his breath and moved slowly. Xiao kept having to tamp down fears that something had gone wrong, reminding himself constantly of the conversation he and Nahida had had the day prior. Soon, Tachi would understand everything that had happened and he would stop having that unreadable expression in his eyes.
"I was already planning on eating with Zhongli, so I hope it's okay if he joins us," Nahida said.
"Do whatever you want," Tachi said.
He wasn't asking questions. Perhaps he'd consigned himself to his fate.
They entered the building and Xiao knocked his hand against Tachi's to test his reaction. Without blinking, Tachi's hand found his open palm and he intertwined their fingers together.
Nahida led them to their table and Xiao resisted the urge to bow upon seeing Zhongli already seated at a round table.
"Welcome, Lesser Lord Kusanali. And Xiao and Tachi," Zhongli said, lifting up his cup of tea by way of greeting.
"I hope we aren't too late," Nahida said as she slid into the seat next to him.
Tachi took the seat on Nahida's other side, leaving Xiao to close the circle with Zhongli at his left shoulder and Tachi on the other.
"How are you feeling?" Zhongli asked.
All eyes turned toward Tachi. He grunted. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? A little off but otherwise fine. Shouldn't you all be asking Xiao that?"
"The karmic debt transferral was successful," Nahida said.
Tachi fell silent. Under the table, Xiao squeezed his hand.
"So it's... inside of me," Tachi said.
"In loose terms," Nahida said. "It's a little more complicated than that. Drink your tea first, then we'll talk."
Tachi took his first real glance at the teapot left out on the table and let go of Xiao's hand to pour himself a glass. Xiao watched, swallowing the lump in his throat.
"Xiao, tell me. How was it in Inazuma? And Snezhnaya?" Zhongli asked. "Did you enjoy yourself?"
Xiao perked up at his name and turned toward Zhongli. The way he smiled made Xiao drop the tenseness in his shoulders.
"If I had to choose between them, I prefer Inazuma," Xiao said. "Snezhnaya was nearly inhospitable. I am not fond of that part of our journey."
"You traveled to Inazuma by boat, yes?" Nahida asked. "How was that? Did you enjoy it?"
Xiao remembered the flash of Tachi's smile when he put down chopsticks from Wanmin Restaurant for him to use. How he had gone through the effort of giving him small comforts during the hardest parts of their journey. How Tachi had caught him when climbing down from the crow's nest, and again, that one stormy night that had nearly unraveled him.
"It was..." Xiao started, then cleared his throat, unsure he had the words to succinctly describe the experience.
"Only a minute in and you're already bombarding him with questions," Tachi said. "I thought you wanted to order before diving into the details.”
"That's a fair assessment," Nahida said. "Alright, let's pick out our orders and then I will explain."
The table finished picking out what they wanted to eat and placed their orders. Then Tachi leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms, and said, "I think I'm owed an explanation."
Across the table, Nahida shared a questioning glance with Xiao.
He had never been all that good with words. Would he know how to say this properly? Would Tachi interrupt him at any point, or worse, would he listen in stunned silence as Xiao explained what had happened?
He supposed there was only one way of finding out.
"After I was put under, I had... dreams about you. And when I woke up again, he said that the transfer had been successful," Xiao said. "But it had done something to you. My burden was too much for you to carry and it consumed you with fallen demons and other sin. We fought and the ceiling caved in. You had fallen unconscious, so I carried you out to safety and we teleported to Sumeru.”
Tachi's eyes flickered over to Zhongli. "How long ago was this?"
"Two days," Zhongli said. "We acted with swiftness."
"How?" Tachi asked.
Xiao didn't say anything. Ever since Tachi had woken, he'd seemed annoyed at his perceived weakness. It didn't seem fair to mention how much stronger Xiao felt compared to before. How it had been easy for him and Zhongli to travel across large swaths of land together because of their adeptal abilities.
"We used the adeptal arts to travel," Zhongli said instead.
Tachi sighed.
"What's wrong?" Nahida asked.
"Nothing."
"Come on now, what is it?"
"I still don't understand why everything is so heavy," Tachi said. "Is this the debt? Has it changed me?"
"I'd like to show you something," Nahida said. "Lean a little closer."
Tachi followed her direction and leaned in.
Nahida reached toward his throat and pulled the locket off. She held it up, its gold glistening in the sun.
"This locket contains your memories from your other incarnations," Nahida said. "And thanks to Xiao and the blueprints he shared with me, I also figured out how to store most of the karmic debt in here. It isn't a huge risk to anyone so long as it never gets destroyed. In the process of adjusting things, however, some of it seeped into you. It has altered your composition tremendously, so it's understandable that your body feels some fatigue after everything it underwent. But given how bad things had been before, I can safely say you've been restored back to consciousness thanks to Xiao's fast acting. A second later, and the debt could have consumed you."
"Is that why I can feel pain?" Tachi asked.
Nahida nodded. "I believe you always had some capacity to feel pain. Perhaps you just didn't realize it. But you could consider the debt inside of you now part of your nervous system. You'll have to tell me after more testing whether it feels like it has influenced any other parts of your body, too. Xiao mentioned hearing voices but since your debt is on a smaller scale, I expect you won't have to worry as much about things of that nature."
“Great. I’d love to continue to not hear voices,” Tachi said.
Xiao’s stomach growled and he sighed, shifting in his seat.
“And how do you feel?” Tachi asked, turning his eyes onto him.
“I feel fine,” Xiao said.
“Really?” Tachi asked. He glanced down to Xiao’s arm.
“Now that you mention it, Xiao’s stitches need to come out,” Nahida said. “He has completely healed.”
“You have?” Tachi asked.
“I am afraid you’ve gotten a little too used to Xiao as he was before,” Zhongli said. “It is rare that his debt interferes with his abilities, especially now.”
“About that. Are you free of all of it now?” Tachi asked.
“So long as I do not encounter any more old gods, I should be able to manage it much better,” Xiao said.
“Then I can’t be too upset with this outcome,” Tachi said.
“Even if Dottore escaped?” Nahida asked.
Tachi scoffed. “I expected that. After all, some days— most days— I doubt he’s even capable of death. He’d probably come back as some spineless puddle of ichor or something.”
The table fell silent. Tachi rolled his eyes.
Xiao felt a hand reach for his underneath the table and squeezed it tightly in his.
“Anyway, it hardly matters. I’m just glad Xiao is well,” Tachi said.
From the way Tachi put things, that is always what had mattered most.
“Shall we toast once more to Xiao’s wellness?” Zhongli asked.
“Yes, let’s toast to our guest of honor,” Nahida said as she reached across the table for her cup of juice.
Zhongli met Nahida’s cup across the table and clinked his teacup against hers. Tachi joined them and Xiao followed lastly, clearing his throat.
“Thanks, everyone. Thank you especially, Tachi. None of this ever would have happened had you not done something,” Xiao said.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Tachi said.
“You did so well,” Nahida said. “I’m proud of you.”
Tachi rolled his eyes. “Is our food coming soon or what?”
“All in due time,” Zhongli said with a low laugh. He brought the tea up to his lips once more, hiding a smile behind its porcelain edge.
The rest of lunch passed with little circumstance. Xiao cast questioning glances at Tachi frequently, but in the company of others, Tachi had become guarded once more. Perhaps it also had something to do with being in public. When Xiao had first brought Tachi to Nahida and she had conducted the transferral on Tachi, Nahida had told Xiao that he didn’t need to worry about it behaving the same as it had in the past. She had sealed enough of it away that most mortals would not even notice it was there.
Tachi excused himself after finishing his food and stepped away for some air. Zhongli and Nahida both gave Xiao stares and Zhongli brought his hand up to his mouth to clear his throat.
“Oh, uh,” Xiao looked between them again as he pushed his chair back.
“It’s fine. We can handle the bill,” Zhongli said.
“Thank you,” Xiao said with a bow then turned on his heel and followed after Tachi.
He dashed forward to Tachi’s side, flickering through space to make it at Tachi’s side. He stood near a low railing overlooking a path below, his arms crossed on the cold metal with his eyes upturned. When Xiao appeared at his side, a small smile played on his lips.
“Why did you leave the table?” Xiao asked.
“I’ve been meaning to get some alone time with you,” Tachi said. “We fought, huh? How badly did we hurt each other?”
“We did not,” Xiao said.
“Are you denying the fighting part of the hurting part?” Tachi said.
“It is nothing that will not heal with time.”
“I hate that I brought a hand against you. I hate that it feels like there’s something I’m forgetting.”
“If you cannot remember, then perhaps it wasn’t important.”
Tachi snorted. “I’m pretty sure it was. But if you insist that you’re fine, then I can leave it be.”
“I believe Nahida said she wanted to do a quick checkup on you to ensure everything is performing properly.”
“Are you so eager to get rid of me? You don’t want to talk more?” Tachi asked.
“You said you feel like you’re forgetting something. Perhaps Nahida can help with this feeling.”
“Hm. Possibly,” Tachi said. His hand snaked around Xiao’s middle, tugging him closer until they were flush against each other. Xiao choked on nothing and his ears heated as Tachi added in a low whisper, “But you have to promise to make time for me later, okay?”
“Yes, of course,” Xiao said.
“Okay,” Tachi said, his eyes lowering into an amused glint, as he turned on his heel and returned to their table.
“It seems you and Tachi have grown close again,” Zhongli said. “Is it reasonable to say you two are on good terms?”
“Yes,” Xiao said.
He walked at Zhongli’s side, avoiding his steely gaze, as they meandered down whichever path Zhongli favored. They had never really gone on this sort of walk before. The only times they had spoken to each other and walked at the same time had been long ago when they were in throes of a war and did not have time for idle chatter.
They were friends now, Xiao repeated to himself. This was meant to feel natural, and yet, he could not help but remember the hallucinated fight they had had in Snezhnaya. The way Zhongli had so apathetically tossed Xiao aside had hurt even if it wasn’t real. Who was not to say that Zhongli truly felt that way? That he actually thought those things behind his back?
“You seem deep in thought about something. What is it?” Zhongli asked.
“I am thinking about how things transpired in Snezhnaya,” Xiao said.
“None of that is your fault,” Zhongli said. “You did your best given the circumstances. The yaksha would be proud.”
“There was a man — Dottore. Have you heard of him?” Xiao asked.
“In passing,” Zhongli said.
“He is the one who executed the surgery,” Xiao said. “He did something to Tachi.”
“Something beyond the transferral?” Zhongli asked.
Xiao nodded.
“Do you have any proof?”
Xiao shook his head. “But there is something about the way he behaves…”
“Give him some time. He has only just woken up, after all,” Zhongli said.
Xiao grunted in acknowledgement. His fingers itched for that item he had confiscated. The one Dottore had howled at him that he would be back for, with its glinting ruby surface and small seed of life inside.
With an opening of Xiao’s palm, he brought it to his hand. He stopped underneath a tree and gestured to Zhongli.
“Have you seen one of these before?” Xiao asked.
“I have not,” Zhongli said. “It appears to be an egg. Is it hatching?”
“What?”
“It has a fracture right there,” Zhongli said, pointing to a long, thin line running down the side.
“What do I do?” Xiao asked, curling his lips tightly shut.
Zhongli laughed. “There is not much you can do.There is no way to reverse an egg hatching as far as I am aware.”
“But I cannot care for it,” Xiao said. “I am a—”
He stopped before the word left his mouth.
Zhongli regarded him with a clear, slightly confused, gaze.
“I am not equipped for this kind of work.”
“You think it is beyond your means because you have never tried it before,” Zhongli said. “But you would be surprised at what you are capable of.”
“I cannot do this.”
“What do you plan to do about it?” Zhongli asked.
Xiao cleared his throat and looked around. He would never dare think to offload this sort of responsibility onto Zhongli. After all, it was Xiao’s fault he had not let Dottore escape with it.
“Xiao?” Zhongli asked.
“I have to talk to Tachi,” Xiao said.
“One moment,” Zhongli said.
He held up his hand in a “stay” gesture and Xiao heeded it, sucking in a nervous breath.
“If you are in need of my assistance, just ask. We can work this out together.”
“I cannot ask that of you,” Xiao said. “You have already done enough for me.”
“We are friends now, aren’t we?” Zhongli asked. “Friends do favors for each other from time to time. No contracts required.”
Xiao nodded.
“Good luck,” Zhongli said.
“Thank you,” Xiao said with a bow.
He turned his eyes toward vaguely where he remembered the Sanctuary of Surasthana being and set on a brisk pace in that direction.
The door to the sanctuary groaned as Xiao approached and pushed it open. He peeked his head inside, looking around to examine the area.
“Hello Xiao,” Nahida’s voice called.
“Hi,” Xiao said.
He walked down the sanctuary’s long bridge to the center of the room. He found Tachi laying on a low table with his arm extended toward Nahida. She was looking it over, small hands running along the length of it. Xiao noticed with some effort that it looked like the side of it was open and she was peering inside.
“Hey,” Tachi said. He gestured with his good arm for Xiao to come closer. “Keep me some company.”
“Okay…” Xiao said.
He looked around but there wasn’t anywhere to sit so he leaned himself against the giant stone flower in the center of the room.
“Hey, Xiao,” Tachi said.
“Hm?” Xiao hummed.
“We should go somewhere. Wherever you want, since you survived and all. Time to start picking away at that bucket list.”
“Bucket list?” Xiao repeated.
“You know, the list of things you want to do before you die,” Tachi said. “Some humans have them.”
“I do not think about such things,” Xiao said with a huff as he crossed his arms. “But…”
He paused. The one thing he wanted more than anything was to go back home. But he could do that whenever he wanted. Where should they go? What did he want to do?
“Ow,” Tachi hissed.
“Sorry,” Nahida said. “Just hold still…”
“I think we should return to Inazuma,” Xiao said.
“Want to appreciate it in its full glory?” Tachi asked.
“Yes.”
Tachi heaved a sigh. “I was sort of hoping you wouldn’t say that one, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Why do you want to go?” Nahida asked.
“I was not able to fully appreciate it last time,” Xiao said. “I want to try more public spaces now.”
“I believe there’s a spring festival happening around this time every year, too,” Nahida said.
“Oh joy,” Tachi said.
He seethed again. Xiao leaned forward, his eyebrows knitted with worry, and he searched to spot what Nahida was doing.
Nahida smiled as she pulled her hands away. “I think that should about do it. Try moving your arm?”
Tachi lifted his arm and waved it in Xiao’s direction. Nahida smiled.
“Okay, good.”
“And what do you look so worried for?” Tachi asked.
“I am not,” Xiao said.
Tachi snorted. “Alright.”
“All done!” Nahida hummed. “Xiao, it’s your turn!”
“Me?” he asked.
“You want your stitches taken out, don’t you?”
“I will be fine,” Xiao said.
“They’re not meant to be in there forever. You should let Nahida take them out,” Tachi said.
He threw his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, gesturing to the spot where he had just been lying down.
Xiao took his place sitting down and flinched when Nahida reached out to touch his arm.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“No,” Xiao said. “I was just surprised.”
“It won’t take long, don’t worry.”
Nahida summoned a pair of scissors to her hand and got to work.
Compared to things Xiao had felt in the past, this was nothing. He barely noticed any of what she was doing, training his eyes on Tachi instead, whose lips uncontrollably twitched up into a smile.
The teasing words “like what you see” echoed in Xiao’s mind.
“Who stitched this for you? They did a very good job,” Nahida said.
“Me,” Tachi said. “Naturally.”
“I should have known,” Nahida said with a little laugh. “He spoils you so much.”
Xiao cleared his throat.
Tachi snorted. “He deserves only the best.”
“Thank you,” Xiao said. “Both of you.”
“You’re welcome,” Nahida said in a cheery tone.
Tachi held Xiao’s gaze as Nahida cut more of the thread. Xiao felt a light tug in his arm but ignored it. Tachi didn’t say anything, and yet, Xiao could read so easily what he was thinking just based on his small smile.
With another sharp snip of her scissors, Nahida leaned back with a smile. “Alright, all done!”
“You look great,” Tachi said.
“Thank you.”
"Nobody told me I got a huge gash across my face," Tachi said.
They were standing in Tachi’s bathroom with Tachi leaned over the mirror picking at the side of his face where Xiao had clawed him. Tachi’s hair fell around his face as perfectly as ever, longer tresses resting against his shoulders to expose the nape of his neck. Xiao frowned and reached for Tachi’s hand, prying it away from his face. When Tachi turned toward him, Xiao tucked some of Tachi’s hair behind one of his ears.
"You would look attractive to me no matter what," Xiao said.
"But you prefer this form, right?" Tachi asked.
Xiao nodded.
"Good. Because I cut the hair myself, you know."
"When I met you in your dreams, Kabukimono had already cut his hair,” Xiao said. “But he reminded me that I used to have long hair, too.”
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Did you cut your own hair, too?"
"No. Menogias usually did it for me."
"Oh," Tachi said. "Lucky."
Xiao reached for Tachi’s chin and tilted his face toward him. Tachi allowed it, a hand already reaching to grasp Xiao’s palm in his.
“You look beautiful,” Xiao whispered, his eyes half-lidded. He leaned in, closing the distance with a peck to Tachi’s lips.
Tachi smiled. “My, my, you’ve gotten braver.”
“There’s nothing to hold me back anymore.”
Xiao’s arm followed Tachi’s hips and pulled him close. Tachi hummed as his eyes coasted down to Xiao’s lips. He traced a finger over his own, thumb pressing into his lower lip.
“Like what you see?” Tachi whispered.
“Always.”
Xiao kissed him again, then again, the next moving to kiss the corner of his lips. Each kiss after that started a slow trail along his jawline to the site of the fracture. Xiao’s kisses didn’t magically heal it, although the affection did bring a smile to Tachi’s lips.
When Xiao pulled away, he searched Tachi’s eyes for meaning, for something to say. But he wound up empty-handed with nothing but the same thought turning over and over in his mind: He’s so perfect.
“Have something on your mind?” Tachi asked.
“Just you,” Xiao said.
Tachi laughed. “I could have guessed.”
“I didn’t know someone’s flaws could make them more beautiful,” Xiao said.
“If you want something, you can just say what it is,” Tachi said. “You don’t have to butter me up first.”
“Did I say I wanted anything?” Xiao asked confusedly. “I just wanted to say what I was thinking. Is that wrong?”
“No. It’s just funny coming from you,” Tachi said.
“Because?”
“Because I didn’t know you could flirt.”
“I was just saying what I was thinking,” Xiao said.
“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before but I’m not upset about it,” Tachi said. “Now. I think I might lie down for one of those detestable things humans call a ‘nap.’ Do you want to join me?”
“No, I will be okay,” Xiao said. “I was thinking of going out for a walk.”
“Okay, so long as you don’t get lost,” Tachi said. “I’ll see you again again soon.”
Xiao walked down the steps from Tachi’s room and took a turn toward the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Before Xiao had made it very far, however, he encountered the person he had been planning on seeing all along.
He turned a corner and found Nahida walking the opposite direction, perhaps seeking out her own break away from the business of her day.
“Lesser Lord Kusanali,” Xiao called as he approached.
Nahida turned around and smiled. “Good evening! Were you looking for me?”
She tucked her arms behind her back and swayed back and forth a little, a smile streaking across her lips.
“Yes,” Xiao said. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to say that each time we meet, you know,” Nahida said. “That’s the third time today. But still, I’m glad you’re doing better.”
“Sorry,” Xiao said. “It’s just that I had a question for you about something.”
“Yes?”
Xiao took a quick look around and then walked to a nearby bench to sit down. Nahida sat next to him, curiously cocking her head to the side as Xiao summoned Dottore’s clone to his hand.
He held it in both his palms resting in his lap, feeling the warmth seep into his skin. It throbbed with life, a small beat flickering against his fingertips.
“What do you know about this?” Xiao asked.
“Can I see?” Nahida asked.
Xiao obliged and dropped the orb into Nahida’s palms.
The way she held it looked comfortable. It looked right. Xiao wished she would keep holding it forever and he’d never have to touch it again.
“What has Tachi told you about this?” Nahida asked.
“Very little,” Xiao said. “I know it is one of Dottore’s clones.”
“That’s right,” Nahida said. “I erased all of Dottore’s clones — all aside from this one. I had assumed it would end up used as a bargaining chip never to be seen again.”
“I confiscated it from him when he failed to uphold our part of the agreement,” Xiao said. “But what do I do with it now?”
“Have you spoken to Tachi about it?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you?” Nahida asked.
“I do not think he will react well to it,” Xiao said. “I wanted to speak to him about it after our visit to Inazuma.”
“The longer you wait, the sooner it will get to hatching,” Nahida said.
“How much time do we have?”
“I would give it only a few days.”
“That will be enough.”
“Do you need help?” Nahida asked. “Do you want me to help you talk to him about it?’
“No,” Xiao said. “I will tell him.”
“Before or after your trip to Inazuma?” Nahida asked.
Xiao didn’t say anything.
“I will trust whichever time you decide. But just know that no matter what, there will be ramifications for doing things that way,” Nahida said.
“I know,” Xiao said.
But didn’t Tachi deserve time away from having to think about Dottore? Didn’t he deserve just a second to himself, a second to just enjoy their company together without having to think about anything unpleasant? This was the happy ending they had worked so hard to achieve. Now they had a moment just to bask in the well-deserved sunlight.
Xiao looked back into Nahida’s eyes and swallowed. The bright white blossoms of her eyes nearly glowed. She smiled and leaned in close. Xiao let her touch his palms, her skin baby soft and warm as it coasted across his skin.
“Do you like children?” Nahida asked.
“I do not know,” Xiao said.
“Were you ever a child?”
“I do not remember.”
Xiao had tried to remember before, too, but the farthest back he could go in his memory always returned him to the shackles of when that god had enslaved him. He could access only memories of never-ending nights of bitter cold and pain. The closest he could relate to having a childhood was when he saved a child ghost and brought her to the inn to be cared for by Verr Goldet and the others.
“You know, if you wanted, you could give this child a good future,” Nahida said.
Xiao stared at her.
When it became clear Nahida wasn’t going to give him the answer he wanted, he spoke.
“I cannot. I would not even begin to know what it needs. It would only suffer if I cared for it.”
“Him,” Nahida corrected. “And he would not suffer. Even the most talented swordsman can also learn how to hold a bottle if he has a little guidance!”
“Mmm…” Xiao hummed, giving the clone a sideways glance.
Nahida laughed. “It’s okay, he’s not going to combust if you look at him a little sideways.”
“Tachi—”
Xiao started then interrupted himself, shaking his head. No, that was a stupid idea. This was a clone of his abuser. It would be ridiculous to even suggest that Tachi would be okay with taking care of it. Even if he was good at caring for others…
“You could care for him with Tachi,” Nahida said.
“That is not my decision to make,” Xiao said. “Anyway, now is not the time to be talking about such things. We can discuss it later.”
“Okay, but do you mind holding onto it for me?” Nahida asked.
She pressed the clone back into Xiao’s hands. He squirmed in his seat minimally as his hands closed around it. But not too tightly; he didn’t want it to burst by accident.
“You can do this,” Nahida said.
Xiao stared down into the sphere’s glassy surface and at the reflection of himself across the small body floating inside.
It was still warm; he feared a day that might not be the case anymore. Even though he should have wished for it to be gone, right? Even if it had the potential to turn into something evil?
But what if it could be good? Didn’t every human deserve an opportunity to be a good person?
“I can tell from that look in your eye that I’ve convinced you,” Nahida said. “If you need anything, I’ll be right here to help you.”
“Thank you,” Xiao said. “I will talk to him.”
After, he thought. After they were able to enjoy a day of peace.
Notes:
tysm for reading, as always!!!
I hope y'all are exciteddddThis is a scene that I cut but still wanted to show you all because I really, really loved it but it wouldn't make sense to keep with the way I wrote this chapter:
Xiao didn’t know why he felt so nervous. He had heard only good things about Nahida from Tachiyaku while on their journey, but some part of him still wasn’t convinced that she wouldn’t be disappointed when she saw him.
When they entered the sanctuary, Xiao had to blink away the bright sunlight that bounced off the green decorating every surface.
Nahida stood at the other end of the walkway. She turned around when she heard their footsteps.
She was so small but she had a kind, round face and white blossom-shaped irises that caught Xiao’s attention from across the room.
Tachiyaku and Xiao stopped just in front of her and Tachi reached for Xiao’s shoulder.
“This is Xiao,” he said, and his hand slid down, capturing Xiao’s fingers and intertwining them together.
Nahida lifted her head and smiled at him. “So, this is the adeptus who has captured Tachiyaku’s heart,” she said.
“Nahida,” Tachi grumbled in a warning tone.
Nahida laughed. “It’s good to meet you. Words cannot articulate how glad I am to have you in Tachi’s life, and now mine, too.”
“Thank you,” Xiao said.
Chapter 40: Secrets Secrets Make No Friends
Summary:
Ei and Heizou get guests in Inazuma. Tachi and Xiao talk.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The Plane of Euthymia smelled of roses.
Ei’s day had begun the way many of them had recently. She would break from meditation in the morning to join Yae Miko for breakfast and then return to the Plane of Euthymia, allowing the Raiden Shogun to once more occupy her vessel.
She enjoyed her jaunts outside, Ei realized. They made her feel more human, a sensation she sorely missed after sacrificing her physical form in favor of eternal meditation.
Just like the weather outside, the weather inside her plane oscillated. It always reflected her mood; bright and warm for joy. Dark and dreary for sad and upset. At least it had grown beyond simple arid lands of crumbling towers built upon memories long ago faded with time.
Something was different about today.
Ei had known from the first flutter of sakura blossoms in the morning air that today would be different. She wasn’t sure how, just that it was, and she patiently awaited her evidence.
She had been sitting cross-legged, hands rested on her knees and her eyes closed when Miko’s voice entered her thoughts.
You have a visitor, the voice said.
“I’ll be right there,” Ei answered.
She uncrossed her legs and opened her eyes.
The Raiden Shogun had become easier to control as of late. With just a simple change of posture, Ei claimed the puppet’s consciousness and found herself sitting at the front of her reception room.
Across from her, swathed in blues and whites with a hat clasped in his lap, sat Tachiyaku. The same red painted the edges of his eyes although she noticed a new fracture across his cheek that had not been there before.
“What brings you here?” Ei asked.
“What, don’t have time for your precious son?” he asked, his tone mocking, belying the otherwise neutral expression on his face.
“I had gotten the impression that you never wanted to see me again,” Ei said.
“People change their minds. Nothing is forever, Beelzebul.”
He said it as a mockery, as an attempt to tease and pick at Ei’s sore spots. He even used that name, the one that brought a squint to Ei’s eyes and a frown to her lips.
Ei sat in silence with him for a few seconds. She soaked in his finer features — the blues of his eyes, the indigo-violets of his hair in the sunlight.
When they had first met, it had been in the throes of conflict, electro bursting from fingertips and furniture rattling as they had fought to overcome each other.
But when Tachiyaku sat like this, his small features set in a relaxed way, Ei could barely imagine him being a slaughterer, of having innocent humans’ blood on his hands. But Ei had seen worse. She knew evil — how it could cloak itself in the face of a friend, even acting expertly to sell the part.
“Why don’t we go for a walk outside?” Ei asked. “I know of a great dango stall you might like.”
“I came with a slightly different idea of an itinerary,” he said.
“What is it?” Ei asked.
“Oh, why would I tell you and risk ruining the surprise?”
Ei rose onto her feet and looked over at Yae. “I trust you can handle things while I am away?”
“Of course,” Yae said. “Just call for me if there’s any trouble.”
Tachi scoffed as he stood and gestured her toward the exit.
Although Ei was first out the door, it was Tachi who took the lead. He made no attempt to walk slowly or even to look backward to make sure Ei was keeping pace. She was listening to his belongings jingle against each other as he walked. One of those was an anemo vision, she remembered, the symbol of freedom.
From what, she wondered?
They walked from the center of the city to its quieter outer fringes. And even from there, they did not stop until they had crossed into the Byakko Plains.
After the Archon War, a graveyard had been erected to house the sudden surge of death and loss from the fighting. Tachiyaku stopped just below the torii gate leading into that graveyard, his shoulder turned toward her, his eyes set into an expectant stare.
“Did you bring me here to pray with you?” Ei asked.
“I don’t know how appropriate it would be for a puppet with little faith in the archons to pray, but sure, I can humor that,” he said, then turned back around and resumed his trudge forward.
Ei followed him through the graveyard and past towers of stone, some mossed over, some polished and bright in the cloudy daylight. Tachi stopped in front of a mossy pillar and scraped some away with the palm of his hand to reveal the letters underneath.
This was not a monument Ei recognized. It had not been here the last time she had visited and it looked much larger than anything she remembered, too. But it had been hundreds of years since she left Inazuma City to even visit a site like this.
Tachi knelt in front of the monument and Ei joined him, bringing her hands together on her lap.
Ei concentrated her energy on her palms. She thought about all of her people and how much she loved them. She pictured Makoto’s face, the cheeks upturned with a smile, a parasol held delicately in one of her hands. It had been so long since she last spent any quality time with many of her people. What were their traditions like now? What did they see in their day-to-day lives?
Once they were done, Tachi lowered his hands and turned toward her.
“Who did you pray for?” he asked.
“I prayed for all of my people so that they may find peace and serenity,” Ei said.
“That’s very optimistic of you,” he said. “And how would you feel knowing that might never be possible for some of them?”
“So long as they live in my land, it will always be possible.”
“I don’t think there’s anything that could quite make me believe that,” he said. “How much do you know of my history?”
“You did not tell me much last time,” Ei said. “I know that I created you several hundred years ago. You almost destroyed the Raiden Gokaden and became a Fatui Harbinger. I recall you were around at the same time as the destruction of the Mikage Furnace.”
“The same furnace where people died and you went along your day never knowing and never caring. So much time has passed and yet still, in some ways, you remain exactly the same,” he said. “I might have done a million things wrong as an archon if ever I was given a chance. But I can say this much: I never would have abandoned my people as you did. I never would have hurt them or left them to fend for themselves with an unloving replacement.”
“I did not abandon them,” she said. “I have been here this whole time. The Raiden Shogun has watched over them all this time and ensured that they tread the proper path.”
“To eternity maybe, burning all other bridges along the way, even those with all your people standing right on them,” Tachi said with a scoff.
He ignored her gaze, turning his eyes toward the gravestones again instead.
He didn’t say anything.
“Were these your friends?” Ei asked.
“They were my family,” he said.
“I am… sorry for your loss.”
She reached out to touch his shoulder. He leaned away from her touch, turning to reveal an indiscernible, almost confused, expression. Tachi’s eyes coasted from hers to his chest.
“I understand that I might never truly remember what I had done to you or how it has changed you as a person,” Ei said. “I understand that no matter what I do or say, it may not feel sufficient to fill that ache in your heart. But I see in you something that I used to see in my late sister. I see how, instead of hiding away from your trauma as I had, you chose to do something about it. You did the difficult work of learning how to understand humans and learn their complex emotions, such as compassion and empathy.”
“Xiao said a similar thing, once,” Tachi murmured.
He clutched his chest where a bright red knot had lain along with the golden feather Yae had told her about before. The one that Ei recognized as a symbol of hers yet one she never remembered giving to him. It fit perfectly in his palm as though it had been made just for him. When he squeezed it around his hand, the sharper edges peeked out between his fingers.
They sat in uncomfortable silence for long stretches of seconds. Ei had long ago grown accustomed to this cold feeling. Of discomfort, of waiting for an answer that may never come.
She never thought she would get to see him again. A part of her did not believe she was worthy of it. Her lack of memory did not completely absolve her of her misdeeds. Although she was ignorant of them this time, there had been a time when she had been aware and had not cared.
If Ei had a chance to do things over again, would they return the same as before? Or would she have been braver and faced her fears more quickly? Would she have been able to save Makoto or learn the difficult lesson that life shall always move on, no matter how one wishes for it not to, that the only eternal thing in this world is change?
Ei swallowed. She had found that she could never be comfortable in this puppet’s body, with its posture so stiff and its shell half-empty of any organs. When she had occupied this body for the first time, Ei had been so fascinated by its resilience and lack of need for things like eating and sleeping. But now, she missed them. She wondered faintly what it felt like for Tachiyaku.
“Why did you come to me today?” Ei asked.
She feared the answer but she also craved it. To be understood was a powerful feeling indeed.
Tachi pulled the feather free and turned it over in his hand. He met Ei’s eyes once more as he ran his fingers over its ridges.
“I thought I would come here to say goodbye. But I…” he paused. A gruff sigh escaped his lips. When he looked up, his lips had twisted into a smirk. “I don’t have the heart to do it.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I waited so long for this moment. I used to dream of it all the time. The look you would have on your face while I towered over you as a true god. The way my people would adore me and make me feel as though my life meant something. But no matter how far ahead I walked, no matter how much progress I made, it didn’t matter, because it turns out you had been looking behind the whole time.”
“Things may have turned out differently had I not been so selfish,” Ei murmured.
“I don’t excuse you for what you did. And I certainly don’t forgive you for it. But I understand a little better what it feels like to be the one needing to do some apologizing,” Tachi said. “I appreciate… you saying something.”
“Of course,” Ei said. “Although you are a puppet, I can tell you have a heart.”
“I already thought so, but it’s nice to hear you agree.” He returned the feather to his chest and rose onto his legs. “I think it’s time I get going. I have another appointment to meet.”
On the way back, Ei lingered once more behind Tachi as they returned to Inazuma City. He strutted purposefully up toward the Grand Narukami Shrine but unexpectedly stopped below a cherry blossom tree, sidling up to the railing of a bridge to look into the water below. Children ran past, their shoes echoing hollowly against the planks.
“I have not heard this sound in a long time,” Tachi said. He crossed his arms over the railing and leaned forward.
“Which one?” Ei asked.
“The sound of geta on a wooden bridge,” he said. He turned toward her, and for once she felt no anger nor malice when he asked, “When was the last time you heard it?”
“Before the Archon War,” Ei said. “I remember Makoto and I taking walks like this often, watching the seasons change together.”
“Am I really like her?” he asked.
“Yes,” Ei said.
Tachi huffed. “Yeah, well, I have my own people who I can’t let go of. When I close his eyes, I still see him, especially lately, when I’m back in Inazuma. The way he used to smile. The way he used to talk with all of us with such joy in his eyes. He’s the one who taught me about human emotions. But then his death came and I…”
Tachi paused his speaking and fell quiet. He didn’t breathe; he didn’t move. Ei briefly worried that maybe he had somehow lost consciousness.
“I lost sight of everything when that happened. It’s taken so long.”
“Healing takes time,” Ei said.
“It’s not something that develops when you’re sitting idly by, though,” Tachi said. “I really do need to get going.”
He lifted his hand in a half-wave and turned on his heel to walk in the same direction he had come.
Ei let him go, only managing to release the tension in her shoulders once he had crested the horizon into the plains once more.
Nothing quite scratched Heizou’s itch for a good mystery than a case to work on just as he was getting out of bed in the morning. He’d crawl into the kitchen clutching case notes and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, fingertips still stained with ink from the night prior.
Today was no different. He had not yet finished getting the gunk out of his eyes by the time he heard a knock at the door and turned around in his seat to look at it with some hesitancy.
When the knocking came again, it came gentler than it would had it been Kujo Sara coming to drag him to work. So, Heizou rose onto his feet and crossed the room to answer it.
Xiao fidgeted in place, his arms crossed, his eyes slimmed down into an almost-glare. His posture suggested tenseness and the more Liyuan style of his clothing suggested he’d only recently returned to Inazuma.
Heizou lit up at the first glance of him.
"Good morning! To what do I owe the pleasure? Oh, before I get ahead of myself. Come in!"
Heizou stepped aside, making room for Xiao to enter.
"Sorry, I was just finishing up breakfast. Did you want anything?" Heizou asked.
"No, adepti do not need to eat," Xiao said.
Heizou's eyebrows furrowed. "Huh, didn't know that. What are you doing back in town?"
"Tachi and I are on a vacation and we took separate ways today to explore Inazuma independently," Xiao said.
"I'm flattered that of all things you could be doing, you decided to spend the time with me," Heizou said.
"Is Kazuha around?"
"No, he's gone."
"Gone where?" Xiao asked. Although subtle, Heizou noticed the way he tensed.
Heizou laughed. "Wandering. Adventuring. You know." He lifted a hand in the air and waved it back and forth a little. "We spend half of the year together and he spends the other half traveling. It's an agreement we made a few years ago."
"And you don't... miss him?"
"Well, not yet. He only left a few days ago."
"And that is normal?" Xiao asked.
"Define 'normal,'" Heizou said. "Cuz I'm pretty sure nothing about 'Zou could be considered 'normal.' But yeah, we agreed on this. And I'll probably miss him later, but he's only a letter away anyway. I just have to ask nicely and he'll come running right back over."
"Hm."
Xiao hummed as he stepped farther into the kitchen and looked around. He acted more like he was in a museum than in a house, not daring to touch anything, only browsing with polite eyes.
"Hey, congrats on not dying," Heizou said.
"Thank you," Xiao said.
“I assume everything is alright?”
“Yes, Tachi and I took care of it.”
Heizou waited for Xiao to expound upon the previous statement but after a few quiet seconds, Heizou continued.
"Is there anywhere you want to go?"
"What do humans usually do with their days? Could you show me?"
Heizou's eyebrow quirked up with curiosity. He goes on a vacation and he just wants to do the same old stuff?
"I'm almost out of some of my favorite vegetables. And oil for frying. We could go out grocery shopping," Heizou said. "Let me grab my keys and we'll be off."
Xiao followed Heizou around his house with polite silence. He regarded everything with a particular curiosity in his eyes, sending Heizou a look even the great detective couldn't parse. Heizou led Xiao out onto his front doorstep and Heizou was just finishing locking up his door when he heard the scuff of someone's shoes on the dirt pathway leading to his house.
Heizou turned in time to face his neighbor, the elderly Saimon Eri whom everyone called “Granny” standing in the doorway.
"Detective Shikanoin, could you please help?”
“What do you need?” Heizou asked.
She brought her hands together from where they had been behind her back, revealing a used handkerchief in her shaking hand, just barely dry of her tears. Her eyes were rimmed red with dried tears and she sniffled.
"Takeru and Futaba went off to play hours ago and haven't returned. I'm afraid that something might have happened to them. Please, you must do something before the chief discovers they’ve been missing.”
"Do you remember where you last saw them?"
"They were playing by the river. I'm afraid that they fell in."
"Don't worry, Granny. We'll take care of this."
"Thank you so much," she said.
“We'll have them back in no time or my name isn’t the Great Detective Shikanoin Heizou!” Heizou declared, turning toward Xiao with a smirk. "Isn't that right, my trustworthy assistant?"
Heizou had made it some distance away from Granny before Xiao spoke again. Heizou had taken them to where the children had last been seen and they now walked alongside the stream, following it around the curve of the land.
"Is that normal?" Xiao asked.
"Which part?" Heizou asked.
“The crying."
"Oh. Usually not. She's just worried about the kids. Which is fair— even though the Sakoku Decree has been lifted, Inazuma still isn't what I would consider a crimeless place. If anything, it's gotten worse now."
"Hm."
"Look here," Heizou said, stopping at a bank of sand.
It had been disturbed, leaving deep marks of displaced mud and water carved into the ground.
"Looks like there was some sort of scuffle." He turned in the direction of the markings then toward Xiao. "We're entering Ronin territory. Prepare for a fight."
Xiao summoned his spear to his hand and glared in the direction Heizou had pointed.
He behaved much differently than he had before, where Heizou had felt this tight tension whenever he was in Xiao's presence. Xiao had carried with him a certain amount of unease that had not been physically painful just yet, but almost was. It was gone today, though.
Heizou led Xiao deeper into Ronin territory. Heizou had long ago grown used to working his routes to bypass these areas, to avoid the uneasy pressure he felt at his backside whenever he neared a certain part of the road. But when they encountered their first Ronin, Xiao put him out of commission before Heizou could even open his mouth.
"Wow, you're really good at that," Heizou said to Xiao just as he put his spear away again.
"I have slaughtered for millennia. This is nothing new to me."
"Noted," Heizou said. "They're this way. I see prints."
Heizou wondered what Xiao must have been thinking. Was he having fun? Was this boring? Was he worried about the kids?
Heizou had not been very worried about the kids because it was likely Granny had overplayed the tears just to make sure he’d take the case. He would have retrieved the kids for her regardless, of course, but knowing they were related to the chief might have motivated Granny to ask.
This had happened once before. The children liked to explore old Fatui hideouts and play house with the abandoned belongings strewn about. In this particular area, there were only a few caves where they could still be lingering.
Heizou led Xiao to one such cave and encountered a surprise.
They were standing outside, near toppled-over barrels and a dilapidated cart bereft of any sort of useful supplies, when they encountered a figure Heizou knew all too well. A figure that often stood with a stern set in her jaw and a spine straighter than the ruler she sometimes drove down on the top of his skull.
"Kujo Sara? What are you doing here?" Heizou asked.
She turned around, the mask on the side of her face twisting away to reveal her stern expression. “Detective Shikanoin. I should be asking you that question. Shouldn't you be back at work putting a dent into your mound of paperwork?"
"Paperwork is forever but I'm afraid missing kids aren't," Heizou said. "I'm just helping a neighbor find them. Have you by chance seen them?"
"No, I have not. Look, I can handle this. You go back to the station."
"I'm afraid I can't do that until I know the children are safe," Heizou said.
It was always like this with her. She budged about as much as a solid rock.
...Good thing then, perhaps, that Xiao just happened to be by Heizou's side.
"Would it not be easier for us to search together? Then the children will be found quicker and Heizou will return to work sooner,” Xiao said.
"Wonderful deduction," Heizou whispered.
"I like the way you think," Kujo Sara said. “You two can explore the area south of here. I have already taken care of this perimeter. I have an ongoing investigation I’m handling right now related to a separate issue, so you’ll have to excuse me.”
With one flick of Kujo Sara’s hand, she had already set off in the opposite direction. Heizou shared a roll of his eyes with Xiao then set off down the aforementioned path.
The kids might as well have left a trail of breadcrumbs straight to where they were hiding. While Kujo Sara was more occupied with detaining the Ronin from the area, Heizou and Xiao turned their attention to following the trail to the beach Heizou had investigated last time.
It did not take long to find them. After all, they weren't exactly trying to keep themselves hidden. Heizou and Xiao approached one of the stagnating puddles of beach water near the ocean to find the children building muddy sand castles.
"Hey, mind if we join you?" Heizou asked as they approached.
Takeru and Futaba shot to their feet, revealing knobby knees cloaked in sand, and ran out of the mouth of their cave toward a nearby copse of lavender melon trees.
"We gotta grab them!" Heizou shouted.
That's all it took for Xiao to dart forward faster than Heizou could blink. A startled cry, a scuff of dirt, and Xiao returned holding the two children, one under each arm.
Heizou applauded Xiao’s work and approached the children with his arms crossed.
“That’ll make you think twice about going running off on your own. Now, what say you we take you back home?”
With the detour for the search for the missing children finally complete, Heizou led Xiao back into the city for something celebratory to eat. Xiao stayed silent as ever at his side, only opening his mouth to order something to eat before they were seated. They sat outside underneath the shade of a tree, its leaves rustling and its shade flickering across Xiao’s eyes. He sat straight in his chair, hands folded in his lap. Heizou leaned backward and slung an arm across his chair, watching people as they passed.
Heizou and Xiao hadn’t been rewarded with anything for their skillful child capture, although Xiao didn’t look bothered in the slightest by it. It seemed that, to both of them, thanks had been enough.
Without Tachi there acting as a buffer, Heizou found himself having to hold up most of the conversation. He didn’t mind, although he quickly found that it was mostly questions on a topic he hadn’t been anticipating.
"Do you remember your childhood?" Xiao asked.
"Yeah, perhaps unfortunately," Heizou said.
"Why?"
"It wasn't... the funnest thing ever," Heizou said. "It was actually pretty difficult. My parents were away a lot at work. It was essentially my older sister who raised us."
“‘Us’?”
“Yeah, me and my younger sister.”
"Did she treat you two well?"
Heizou shrugged. "She tried? We all tried our best. What about you? Do you remember your childhood?"
"No, I do not remember. Adepti are not produced like humans are. I do not remember my creation."
"Huh."
"Do you like children?" Xiao asked.
"They're alright. I love my younger sis who I cared for a lot. I send money back home often so she can have a better childhood than I did. I should probably go back home soon to see how she's doing..."
"What is it about children that you like?"
"Full of questions today, are we?" Heizou asked. "They're curious. They see everything with fresh eyes. They're not weighed down with the same burdens adults are, you know? They're allowed to just be kids."
"Have you ever thought about rearing a child?" Xiao asked.
"Not really," Heizou said.
He turned toward Xiao and stared. Xiao cleared his throat.
"Kazuha's too busy with travel to be able to commit to something like that right now and I’m way too tied up in my work, too. Why do you ask?"
"There is this situation..."
Xiao brought his hands onto the tablecloth and fiddled with his thumbs.
“Did you… acquire a kid or something?” Heizou asked as he dropped his arm from the chair and leaned forward.
“In a manner of speaking. There is this man who had created clones of himself. I have the last clone but it is just a seed. Lesser Lord Kusanali told me it would be born soon but I do not know what to do with it.”
“A… seed, huh?” Heizou asked. “And I’m assuming you can’t just give it back to the man?”
“He performed painful surgeries on Tachi and others. I believe he has also experimented on humans and tortured them,” Xiao said. “He is not suitable to care for a child.”
“…Huh,” Heizou hummed. “Yeah, you definitely shouldn’t be returning it then. So does that mean you plan on keeping him in your care?”
“I do not think it would be happy with me. I am ill-suited to care for humans since I only know slaughter and would not know the first thing a human needs.”
“There are plenty of parents who go into it not really knowing what they’re doing,” Heizou said. “You wouldn’t be starting very far off from what a lot of other parents face. I think the most important thing you can do to raise a child well is raise them with love. Although it’s a little cliché, if you do that, then I truly do think everything will turn out alright.”
“You put so much faith into something so small,” Xiao said.
“Just because it isn’t measurable doesn’t really make love ‘small,’” Heizou said. “After all, your love for Tachi is pretty large, right?”
“Hm, that is true,” Xiao said.
“Have you spoken to him about this?”
“I have not yet. And I would like to be the one to tell him.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow, once we are back in Sumeru.”
“Hmm…” Heizou hummed, giving Xiao a sideways glance.
“I will tell him,” Xiao said. “It just has to be the right time.”
“Topics like this don’t always have a good time,” Heizou said. “Are you worried?”
“I think that is what you would call this, yes,” Xiao said.
“Of what?” Heizou asked.
He lowered his arms from where they had been cupping his chin in intense interest in Xiao’s words. He straightened up in his seat and frowned.
“There is no possible way I can expect him to accept the child,” Xiao said. “But it— he— has done nothing wrong yet. How can it be fair of me to cut something down before it has done anything to deserve it? Knowing even what Scaramouche had done, would it be fair to cut down an innocent kabukimono?”
“You’re talking about Tachi?” Heizou asked. “Either way, I understand what you mean. But at the same time, if this older clone had really done all the things you said it did…”
Across the table, Xiao fell silent.
“It’s not uncommon for couples to separate over things like this,” Heizou said. “Sometimes, one half of the couple wants children and the other doesn’t. And that’s okay.”
“No. There is no way,” Xiao said. “This cannot be the wedge that drives us apart. I just need to find a way to make him understand.”
“This is Tachi we’re talking about, so surely he’ll keep an open mind for you, right?” Heizou asked.
“Tachi made exceptions for me in order to save me. But now that I no longer need saving, I am not sure he would extend the same charity to someone whom he hates,” Xiao said. “But I must make him understand somehow.”
“You know him better than I do but something tells me that if you were to make a sad enough puppy face, maybe he’d listen,” Heizou said.
Xiao simply frowned, and not exactly in the way Heizou had envisioned. Heizou laughed awkwardly.
“I mostly meant it as a joke. This sort of conversation is never easy and I can only imagine how difficult it will be once you try to breach it with him. But just try. You might even be surprised.”
“Ah. I am supposed to be meeting with him after this,” Xiao said. “He wants to have a picnic.”
“Great! That’s a great opportunity to investigate how he feels about kids,” Heizou said. “Look, we can even do some practicing together! I can coach you on what to say.”
Heizou’s stomach interrupted him with a loud growl and he cleared his throat, cheeks warming at the realization.
“…Maybe after some food first.”
Xiao could have spoken with Heizou for hours and still not felt prepared to confront Tachi as he crested a sloped hill peppered with flowers, petals fluttering by on a spring breeze. Tachi had told him that he would handle gathering all of the necessary materials. All Xiao needed to do was show up at whatever time in the afternoon suited him.
He found Tachi lying stretched out on a blanket, his eyes closed, a doll grasped in his hands over his stomach. Xiao had thought to lay down next to him and got as far as sitting down before he saw the glimmer of tears curving down the side of Tachi’s cheeks and leaned over him to search for signs of pain.
Tachi’s sleeping face looked so peaceful. Slack lips and eyelids, not a single hair out of place. But the tears still stirred some alarm inside of Xiao when he saw them. Did he dare risk waking him? Ah, but Xiao could not stand to leave him like this.
Xiao pressed the first fingertips against Tachi’s cheeks. Tachi flinched awake and sucked in a breath as Xiao yanked his hands back. Tachi scrambled up into a sitting position and wiped the tears from his face.
“Is everything okay?” Xiao asked.
Tachi looked around for a brief moment before his eyes landed on Xiao. He heaved another sigh of relief and pressed his hand over the doll that had slid onto his stomach.
“Yeah, I just— I had a realization,” Tachi said.
“What was it?”
“You were in shackles once.”
Xiao nodded.
“And I saw it. Just now.”
“Did you see anything else?”
“No, but I feel like there’s more. Why do you look like you understand?”
“I saw visions of your life when we were in the operating room,” Xiao said. “I believe we shared a consciousness.”
Tachi nodded. “Ah. That must have been it.”
“Is that alright?”
“Yeah. I just wasn’t expecting that.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Maybe some other time. I’d rather focus on something else right now.”
“Alright. Did you go anywhere interesting today?” Xiao asked.
"Oh, you know. Visited some old family. Took a stroll across a bridge."
“Did you have fun with them?” Xiao asked.
He had half known from the tone of Tachi’s voice and just from what Xiao knew of his life that meeting family could only mean trouble.
That was only confirmed when Tachi responded, “Most of them were gravestones.”
“I do not feel like this point of discussion is any better,” Xiao said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, yes. Look. Let’s just talk about you. What did you do?”
“Heizou and I helped find the Konda Village chief’s children,” Xiao said. “And then we had food in the city.”
“I assume he’s doing well?”
“He said Kazuha left a few days ago to travel but that he would not be lonely because he need only write for Kazuha to return.”
Tachi smirked. “I bet he wishes he could just call his partner’s name like I do for you, hm?”
“I had not considered that.”
“Hey, look at this. I sewed a mini you, see?” Tachi asked.
He uncovered the hand that had been hiding the doll in his palm, allowing it to roll onto the picnic blanket and a stack of carefully plucked yellow dandelions Xiao had not noticed prior.
Xiao picked it up, turning it over in his hands, feeling the tiny ridges of thread where Tachi had sewn the seam of the head together. Its eyes were two black dots with red markings for eyeliner that Tachi and Xiao both wore. A smile cracked at the edge of Xiao’s lips.
“It looks just like me. Thank you.”
“I like it when you smile,” Tachi said. “You should do it more. And you’re welcome, by the way.”
Xiao shuffled a little closer and Tachi eagerly slung his legs across Xiao’s lap. They sat close together as Xiao reached for Tachi’s hands and ran his thumbs into the soft inner flesh of Tachi’s palms.
“What do you think about children?” Xiao asked.
“They’re okay,” Tachi said. “Kind of annoying, but if you look at them from far away, they’re not really that bad. Why? Did the children today give you ideas?”
“Maybe,” Xiao said.
It was not a complete lie, although Xiao held back a worried frown at the prospect of lying. Heizou had insisted this would be a natural way for the topic to emerge. This way, they could discuss it in a more neutral way before Tachi understood the full context.
Tachi snorted. “Please don’t tell me you want a kid already. Isn’t it a little too soon to be thinking about that? And I’m assuming you’d task me with all the caretaking stuff so shortly after I just saved your ass from near death.”
“It would not be like that,” Xiao said. “I can— I can learn to be good at it.”
The words left his lips and he quickly regretted it. This was a lie. He could not do it; he was not made for it. He had never even been in the same room as a child before today without feeling immense fear of hurting it. He had feared his debt and its consequences for so long that he worried now that he would never be able to attend a social function without it still nagging at the back of his mind that something would go wrong.
“You really want to, huh?” Tachi asked.
Xiao lifted his eyes to Tachi’s. He hadn’t realized when the frown had started to hurt on his face, the lines drawn so deep that his lips almost wobbled at the weight of it.
“Yes,” Xiao whispered.
“Why?”
“I want to know what it feels like to foster something good out of nothing. I want to be the protector in someone’s life, the light they look toward when all they see around them is darkness. You have taught me how rewarding such a connection can be and how I never feel like a slaughterer when you look at me.”
“So you want someone else to do the same?”
“It is difficult, exactly, to put into words,” Xiao said. “But after Mochou left, I used to spend many long evenings on the rooftop of Wangshu Inn watching children play. I was never capable before of interacting with them because of the debt. Just like when we met, whenever there was conflict, I dispatched the threat swiftly then left. I never lingered to spend actual time with humans despite how much I wanted to.”
“I never knew you wanted to. Although I could imagine, actually, how difficult that must have been,” Tachi said. “But moving from that to being in contact with a baby all day and night is very much the extreme opposite side of the spectrum. Babies need constant attention and they wouldn’t suit your job at all.”
“The child would be my new purpose.”
Tachi’s jaw dropped and Xiao’s heart stung. He started to retract his hands when Tachi let out a small exclamation and grabbed them back.
“No, no, it’s good,” Tachi said. “This is such a selfless thing to devote a lifetime to. And the child would be in good hands.”
“Why do you speak as though you don’t feel the same way?”
“It was only when push came to shove that I left Sumeru to see you again,” Tachi said. “I had been hoping for more time to work on myself first. I feel closer to where I wanted to be than before but I’m still not sure if it would be enough for a child. I’m hard on myself and others. I just know that would make it very difficult.”
“But if we do it together, then certainly it will not be as strenuous,” Xiao said. “And it may even teach you new things about yourself. I believe this would be true of both of us.”
“I understand how much this means to you,” Tachi said. “So much of the world is open to you now that the karmic debt isn’t holding you back. But I need more time to think about this before committing to anything.”
“Okay,” Xiao said. “I am glad you are even considering it. I’m sure you have your reservations about my capabilities, too.”
“You’re not the one I’m worried about,” Tachi said. “When you love something, it’s obvious you would protect it with your life. A child would be the safest possible in your hands. I’m the one I’m worried about.”
“I want to do this with you or I don’t want to do it all.”
“I’ll give you this much— you don’t do things by halves. That’s something we have in common.”
“Just consider it,” Xiao said.
“I will,” Tachi said.
He heaved a sigh and then looked across the blanket at the basket he had placed on the other corner. He squeezed Xiao’s hands then let go to reach for the handle, dragging it closer.
“With all of the heavy talk out of the way, what say you to a little late lunch, hm? I promise it’ll be much lighter than any of our recent conversations.”
“Of course,” Xiao said, making space for Tachi to begin laying out the ingredients for a sandwich.
It didn’t take long for Tachi to finish making the first one and for Xiao to bite down on it. He had braced for it to taste terrible or rancid, but it was the perfect balance of sweet and savory.
Only his knowledge settled like a stone at the bottom of his stomach, uncomfortable and unavoidable for the rest of the afternoon.
Notes:
Yoooo, thank you for reading!!!!
It's only slightly Monday in my timezone so I will count this as a win!
Chapter 41: Sheltered Under Stars
Summary:
Xiao reveals a secret. Tachi doesn't take the news well.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was raining when the pair returned to Sumeru three days later.
Xiao didn’t want to do anything. It was rare for him to feel this way— that he just wanted to crawl underneath Tachi’s bedsheets and never come out. Because if he never came out, he would never have to worry about the child. He would never have to worry about Heizou’s words keeping him up at night.
It’s not uncommon for couples to separate over things like this.
Tachi said he would consider it but there was no way he would stay neutral about it once he heard the other half of the story.
Once they returned to Tachi’s room, Tachi had set the hat back on the top of his head and said he needed to drop by the Akademiya for some business. He had regarded Xiao with a small tilt of his head as though Xiao was transparent.
“Do you want to come with?” Tachi had offered.
But Xiao had refused, opting instead to leave shortly after Tachi, his eyes set on the giant tree that stretched its arms over the city. The canopy was wide and thick enough to shelter people from the rain. Xiao set off with his head lifted upward, searching for the highest branch he could find to settle his weight on.
He found a secluded corner of the world where the only sound that reached his ears was the rain splashing against leaves. He heard it drizzling down mossy bark as he relaxed onto a branch with his back pressed against the giant trunk. He lifted one knee up to sling a hand over, rolled his head back, and meditated.
Xiao sucked in a long, slow breath and held it. When he exhaled, he imagined all the stress leaving with it. All of the weight that had bore down on his soul slipped out between his lips.
The world seemed to slow. Even the sound of the rain faded from his mind after some time.
For the first time in a long while, he heard nothing.
He lost track of how long he sat there listening to the rain as it pattered on the foliage. His legs had started to become damp with the water but he barely noticed. Xiao liked the silence, the serenity. He didn’t have to think about anything else when he lifted his head to stare at the clouds.
“Xiao?”
When Tachi called his voice, Xiao pulled his legs away from where they dangled on the tree branch and stood. He teleported down, feeling his body lift with the energy through space. The world surged with warmth and then the humid air returned. Tachi stood in front of him with the white kimono folded over his arm. The inner blue kimono sagged over his frame, splattered dark with rainwater. Xiao swallowed as he glanced to the bookshelf nearby.
He was in Tachi’s room again.
“Yes?” Xiao asked, turning his eyes onto Tachi once more.
“I think you have something you need to tell me.”
“Did you speak to Nahida?”
“I didn’t have to. You’ve been walking around like you’ve had a limp the last few days. Is there a weight on your conscience that’s finally getting to you?”
“Are you prepared to talk about it now?”
“Why else did I call you? Just to look at you?”
Xiao cleared his throat and glanced down. He was also drenched.
“Would it not be better if we changed out of our wet clothing first?”
“You’re stalling,” Tachi said. He took a step closer and placed a hand on Xiao’s shoulder. “Whatever’s going on, please, just say it. Clearly and to-the-point. I don’t have the patience for games.”
Xiao sucked in a breath. He listened to the weather as it grew more ferocious outside, rain battering the windows enough to make the glass rattle. He studied Tachi’s face, from that hand still grasping the kimono to the curious lift of his eyebrows.
Xiao lifted his hand and opened his palm. It was empty until he summoned the clone to it where it pulsed warm and small, the glass smooth against his skin. He could already begin to feel his fingers bead with sweat.
Tachi stared at it and for a second said nothing. When he finally broke from his staring, it was to gaze into Xiao’s eyes with furrowed brows.
“I saved it from Dottore while you were on the operating table,” Xiao said. “I think I would like to care for it.”
“You must be kidding. You saved it?” Tachi asked. “You want to ‘care’ for it?”
“Yes.”
“That thing is an abomination,” Tachi spat. “There’s nothing to save. And you brought it with us to Inazuma? You’ve had it this whole time and not told me?”
“I told Nahida about it,” Xiao said. “I decided to wait before saying anything. I just didn’t want it to be the only thing you were thinking about while we were on our vacation together.”
“You should have said something. You should have told me. But you decided it was better to keep it a secret? What made you think you could make that decision for me?”
“I was in pain for so long,” Xiao said. “Are you not happy that we had a fun time together? Am I not allowed to enjoy even one simple pleasure in my life not tainted by conflict?”
“You are able to have both,” Tachi said. “You can tell me the truth and have a fun time sunbathing on Nazuchi Beach if it makes you happy.”
He said it with a twinge of acid in his tone that pulled a grimace onto Xiao’s lips.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Tachi snapped.
“Tachi, you’re being unjustly cruel.”
“I’m not being cruel. You’re the one who chose not to tell me.”
“I wasn’t lying to you. I just wanted time before we spoke about it together.”
“Well, we’re talking about it now, aren’t we?”
“No, we’re not. You’re just shouting at me.”
“I’m not shouting. I haven’t raised my voice at all.”
Xiao seethed out a frustrated sigh. “Tachi…”
“What?” Tachi asked, crossing his arms. He all but tapped his shoe impatiently, his eyebrows drawn down close over his eyes.
“Let’s talk about this later.”
“When’s later? Another week after it’s already hatched or… whatever it does? Since you haven’t told me shit about any of this?” Tachi asked with another disgusted gesture in Xiao’s direction.
“Talk to Nahida and we’ll discuss it afterward.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” Tachi snapped. He made to turn around, hesitated, and then strutted away.
Xiao sucked in a slow breath and then exhaled, bringing his eyes down to the bright red sphere still in his hands. The fracture he had shown Nahida had begun to grow. He ran a thumb over the seam and bit the edge of his lip. If nothing else, at least he could take this time to do something useful.
He curled his hands over the sphere once more and set off through the door after Tachi.
For a small archon like Nahida, the grand sage’s office felt like it was built for a giant.
The table was at least five times larger than her bed, she had to all but jump to sit in the chair, and the whole place felt stuffier than a sumpter beast’s pits at the peak of the rainy season that they were just entering. Rain pounded the stained glass that left bright blue reflections across the driyosh insignia on the cold stone floor.
Nahida had to admit, though, that she could not have chosen a better successor for this role. Alhaitham had already filled his desk with scrolls and tomes of varying thickness, though most were too heavy for Nahida to even lift. Alhaitham had brought up a chair for her across from his spot at the front of the table. He pinched a feathered pen between his long fingers, scouring the manuscript Nahida had given him.
Alhaitham preferred to work in silence, sparing only upward glances or comments when he came across something he had feedback for.
Nahida sat with her hands in her lap and a forced smile pulled on her lips. Tachi was supposed to return today. Had he and Xiao gotten caught in the rain on their way back? What was the weather like in Inazuma?
Another curtain of rain slammed into the windows and Nahida flinched. Alhaitham leaned forward in his seat and stowed the fountain pen away in its inkwell when something akin to thunder boomed behind her back.
She turned in time for a bolt of lightning to shoot through the sky outside, shaking the building. The doors to the study burst open, revealing Tachi standing on the other side, his face screwed up in repulsion. His eyes found Nahida’s from across the room and she hopped off the chair onto her feet.
Nahida hadn’t even made her first step by the time Tachi crossed the room.
“We need to talk,” Tachi said.
Alhaitham cleared his throat and rose from his chair. “I will take my leave then.”
“This is your office. We can do this somewhere else,” Nahida said.
“No need. I was just wrapping up with work anyway,” Alhaitham said. “I don’t mind if you borrow my office for your appointment.”
“Oh, well, thank you,” Nahida said.
Alhaitham shuffled some papers into a neat stack then strode across the room toward the exit. Alhaitham gently closed the doors on his way out as Tachi dropped into the chair Nahida had just vacated. The room echoed with the dull thud of him dropping his forehead onto the table and bringing his arms to cover his face as he began to sob.
“Tachi?” Nahida whispered gently.
Tachi’s crying was heavy and dramatic, rivaling the sound of the storm outside. His shoulders shuttered with the effort as a strained wail echoed off the walls of the House of Daena.
“It’s okay,” Nahida whispered. She reached out and touched her small hand to the center of his back, smoothing her fingers over the cold wet fabric.
She didn’t have anything to swathe him in and her clothing was too small to share. But Tachi had never pushed her away the last two times it had been like this.
“Let it all out,” Nahida said.
Tachi sucked in a few sharp breaths then lifted his head and drew his arms up to prop his elbows on the table. Hands covered his eyes, wiping his face of the tears. He’d gotten better at recovering quickly from outbursts, Nahida noted.
“So, Xiao told you,” Nahida said. “It’s okay to be upset. I know the clone was unexpected.”
“It’s not just that,” Tachi said. “It’s everything.”
“What else is it?” Nahida asked. “Tell me.”
Tachi sniffed through a congested nose. “It’s too much.”
“You can say as much as you’re comfortable with. Even just a little bit.”
“You should just read my mind.”
Nahida shook her head. “You know I don’t want to do that.”
“I don’t care. Just do it— it’s easier anyway.”
“Are you sure?” Nahida asked.
Tachi didn’t say anything. He only nodded, brushing fingertips against his lower lash line. The red usually dusting the edges of his eyes had been washed away, leaving him looking especially miserable.
“If it’s really the only way you will agree to speak with me, then okay,” Nahida said. “Even your breaths and try to relax. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you by being too forceful.”
Tachi sucked in a slow, deep breath and dropped his shoulders as he exhaled. He leaned back into his chair and threw his head up toward the ceiling. Nahida nestled his hand in hers, brushing her fingers over his to bring some warmth back to his shuttering frame.
Nahida sucked in a breath, too, then gazed at Tachi’s face, focusing her attention on his forehead. She let go of his hands and hesitantly formed the picture frame with her fingers, pointing it at his face. She whispered the words to herself, bracing herself for what she would see on the other side.
Nahida seldom ever actually entered people’s minds when she read them. With children especially, in the old days when she used to give them good dreams, their minds were pretty simple. They would come to her like looking into small pools of water, images and thoughts reflected back at her. Adults could be more complex but followed a similar principle, although perhaps that one pool of water had been replaced with a mirror or shard of glass through which Nahida could see events play out.
Tachi’s mind was nothing like that. From the outside, it was a proper palace planted among a white void, similar to how a palace might look in Snezhnaya. Black tendrils of the remnants of karmic debt traveled up the thick, mahogany doors but did not infiltrate inside.
The noises from outside filtered in as faint echoes. Mostly it was rain. She also heard a whisper of crying.
Nahida approached the doors and pushed them open.
The room beyond looked like a giant museum. The last time Nahida had been in here, it had been half dilapidated, with shattered glass on the polished floor and canvases ripped from busted picture frames. The hues of the floor and walls reminded Nahida of the Sanctuary of Surasthana, although she thought Tachi had only bitter feelings toward the place. But then, the markings on the tinted green floor and the faint taste of padisarah spice on her tongue suggested otherwise.
From Nahida’s vantage point at the entrance, she saw hallways branching off from the main room and neatly lined framed images.
The largest of all the paintings was a picture of Niwa behind a golden frame and velvet rope at the end of a narrowing hallway. It was done up in a traditional way of mourning, banners draped over the top edges of the frame. The canvas flickered through various scenes: One with Niwa's hammer raised and driving it down on a piece of metal, another of him holding up a mirror and smiling at the kabukimono's teary-eyed reaction, and lastly, one of a hug, Kabu-chan's arms wrapped tightly around Niwa's middle. A spotlight somewhere shone on his face.
One of the adjacent hallways had been corded off with more rope, although a box sat nearby with picture frames peeking out of it. Nahida tucked her arms behind her back and approached to examine the fuzzy faces of strangers. An old doll of the kabukimono’s nameless friend sat on the heap of frames, a faded smile sewn onto his face.
Nahida’s feet echoed across the polished floor as she passed the first few portraits. She saw a painting of Xiao sitting on the rooftop of Wangshu Inn, his posture relaxed, his eyes cast up toward the sky. His voice echoed through the room, gentle and quiet.
I see someone who is compassionate and willing to protect the things he cares about with a fervent zeal. He does not let anything get in the way of what he wants and he is vocal about his thoughts and feelings. When I see him, the world does not feel like such a dark place anymore. He’s like sunlight.
Nahida turned her head and saw a more worn-out image, like something that had been captured on a Kamera and been left in the sunlight to desaturate some of the more vibrant colors.
It was Makoto standing in the sunlight, a parasol resting against her shoulder to keep the sun out of her eyes.
I think you would have liked Makoto. Likely more than you like me.
Farther down, Nahida passed more paintings of Xiao, the sick boy, and Niwa.
What if hearts can be born from ashes?
If you give him… my heart… tell him that both Nagamasa and I see him as one of us. He has nothing to prove to anyone. Because not everyone just wants to use other people.
Her mouth dropped open at an image of herself sitting across from him, humming some unheard song as she kicked her legs and shoveled candied ajilenakh nuts into her mouth.
I love you, Tachiyaku. And whatever happens, I know that you will be able to persevere through it. You have already grown so much from the wanderer I first met so long ago and I am proud of how far you’ve come. Forge ahead with conviction and trust that everything will be alright.
Although Nahida still believed those words, they made her cheeks heat just a little. It had really meant that much to him, huh?
She finished crossing the floor and stopped in front of the red rope that cordoned off the last section of the room. Behind the rope materialized two figures— the kabukimono and Niwa. This felt similar to the sort of thing Nahida had seen in the Akasha terminal. Lifelike figures moved and spoke as though they were really there only to fuzz and flicker at random intervals like holograms.
"Do you want to see him?" Niwa asked.
"Can I?" The kabukimono asked.
He rocked onto the backs of his heels and clasped his hands underneath his chin.
Niwa laughed. "Okay, but you have to be gentle."
A baby carriage appeared at his side as he turned to extract the baby from inside. He faced Kabu-chan once more holding a bunch of blankets in his arms, bending down enough for Kabu-chan to get a glimpse. Nahida stood on her tippy toes, too, but it was no use. This clearly was not a scene made for her to see.
"Can I hold him? Please?" Kabu-chan whispered, his voice full of wonder.
"Sure, but you'll want to do it properly," Niwa said. "Let me show you. Support the back of his head like this."
Niwa lowered the child into Kabu-chan's awaiting arms and helped adjust his grip. Niwa tucked the blanket in around Kabu-chan's arms as he worried his lower lip.
"There you go, it's all done," he said.
"He's so... light," the kabukimono said. "And so soft."
"He is only a few days old, after all."
“And so cute," Kabukimono said.
"I know, right? I can't take all the credit, though."
"Can I hold him a little longer?"
"Please, be my guest. He hasn't cried once in your arms, which must mean that he likes you."
"Then can I keep him?" Kabu-chan asked, a more mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
Niwa scoffed. "Okay, that's going a bit too far. By that point, you should get your own!"
The vision began to flicker as soon as it appeared. In the picture frame, Niwa's smile had eased into a more stoic frown.
Thinking about Niwa and what Escher did to him hurts so much, Tachi said, his voice echoing off the walls. I wish Xiao hadn't made me go back to Inazuma. I couldn't stop thinking about him. It was driving me mad. I'm sure Ei thought I was crazy when I suddenly had to leave because I realized I had said too much.
The picture frame shifted to a scene of the kunikuzushi staring at a crowd of men with their swords drawn at him. The kunikuzushi gripped a blood-soaked sword in his hand, droplets landing at his feet next to a fresh corpse. Instead of engaging with the men, however, he pulled his hat tight over his eyes and walked away.
I always knew there was a part of me that cared about preserving what he had left. The adopted child and his ensuing lineage that would never understand what Niwa meant to me. I doubt they saw my mercy as a blessing.
The sick child from before materialized holding a doll in his hands. His smile, though small, was pure.
Children are ephemeral. They do not stay children. They become ill and die or they grow up into adults who become ill and die. Or evil and murdered. I don't want involvement with such a fate. It was enough when it was caring for Xiao and his illness, treasuring every day fearing it would be the last. Questioning whether every moment was lived to the fullest to preserve his life as much as possible. But a Dottore clone? I can't promise that same devotion. How could I? After everything he's done to me?
A pained scream echoed from one of the branching rooms. Something metal hit the polished floor afterward and rang out like a spinning quarter on a table before finally quieting.
I once loved children. But they leave you just as everything is eventually bound to leave you. I can only take so much pain for one eternity. This sheet of paper has already become complex enough without more recorded.
"Do you think there is a part of you that would enjoy it?" Nahida asked.
Of course, Tachi's voice echoed.
More figures of himself materialized in front of her.
Images of him skipping jump rope with children as Mochou and playing with swords as Kabu-chan. Even obediently allowing a Snezhnayan child to hold his hand and walk with him as Scaramouche.
I always adored children and their innocence. I see a part of myself in them.
Kabu-chan returned sitting in a rocking chair in place of where Niwa had once been. The chair creaked gently as he rocked backward and adjusted the bottle he held to a baby's mouth.
I don't have my innocence anymore. But that doesn't mean I can't still wish it for others.
Nahida turned her head. Other paintings had changed. They were all Xiao now-- Xiao sitting on the rooftop or eating almond tofu or smiling quietly at a joke he had made.
I would do a lot of things for you and for Xiao. But I’m not sure I want to do this.
The painting at the front of the room melted into Xiao frowning disapprovingly at him, his arms crossed, words Nahida couldn't hear streaming from his lips. The room grew dimmer and the painting began to fade.
"That's enough," Nahida said. “I think I understand the situation better now. Let’s talk in person again.”
Nahida opened her eyes again and dropped her hands. Tachi dropped his head and turned to look at her. His cheeks still had streaks of dried tears trailing down them. Nahida tutted and reached out to wipe her small hands over them. She held his face in hers for a moment, regarding him with a frown.
“I’m sorry that it hurts so much right now,” Nahida said. “It must feel like someone went over and tore open old wounds you thought had healed. But then it’s a good thing I brought aloe vera with me.”
Tachi laughed, a strained, hiccuping noise, and joined her hands in his at wiping away the marks of pain still strewn across his face.
“It’s okay, I just… wasn’t sure how to say it.”
“What do you want to do next?” Nahida asked.
“Forget that he ever told me about the child,” Tachi said. “But I’ll settle on talking it through as a more likely alternative.”
“When I spoke to Xiao, he sounded pretty determined to care for it,” Nahida said. “Can you see yourself in that sort of future with him?”
“I think Mochou was planning on something like that,” Tachi said. “He even wanted us to get married. But I haven’t thought about it much beyond knowing that I want nothing to do with that scumbag Dottore aside from seeing him dead.”
“Even if they’re alike only genetically?”
“You can’t possibly be advocating in favor of him.”
“What about I ask you this: Do you believe an evil person is born evil?”
“Yes,” Tachi said, his response immediate and strong.
“Do you believe that you were born evil? Or was it only due to certain events that happened to you that made it so?”
Tachi grunted. “Very clever of you.”
“I am almost certain that if the baby stays with Dottore, he could very well become another evil being. But if you give him the opportunity to be fostered with love and care, then perhaps there is an opportunity for him to tread a different path in life,” Nahida said. “Were you not the one who sought a similar second chance in your own life? And you and Xiao have both expressed separately to me a desire to protect a child’s innocence. Is that not something you would like to do together?”
“It’s still Dottore, Nahida. If it were any other normal child then perhaps a few years from now, once Xiao has begged me enough, I would be amenable to it.”
“This is just my opinion, but an extraordinary child better suits extraordinary parents anyway,” Nahida said. “And that is just what you two are.”
“Your flattery isn’t going to convince me this time,” Tachi said.
“I’m sorry if I’m showing my bias a little too obviously,” Nahida said. “No matter what you choose, I will respect your choice. But I just want you to consider it from all perspectives. If nothing else, wouldn’t you want to do it because you know best what danger he could inflict upon others if he really does grow up to be a threat? You could be the one to ensure that doesn’t happen. You could be the one to make sure that what happened to you never happens to anyone else.”
“We can’t take care of it some other way?”
“When Xiao showed the clone to me before you two left for Inazuma, it looked close to ‘hatching.’ It’s a little difficult to determine exactly what’s going on with it biologically, but I would conjecture that it will break from the container I sealed it in soon and require incubation. It would be a premature birth, but the Bimarstan is well-equipped to see to his needs.”
“Okay, okay. I don’t need to hear any more specifics,” Tachi said. “What I’m hearing is it really is a human child.”
“Yes.”
“And he’s being ‘born’… soon.”
“If not right now.”
Tachi cursed.
Nahida patted him again on the shoulder. “This isn’t a decision you have to make overnight. You deserve some time and space to consider this before jumping to a decision.”
“He’s going to live whether I interfere in his life or not.”
“Yes.”
Tachi seethed. “Why does it have to be me?”
“The more important question is, why wouldn’t it be?”
The Bimarstan smelled of antiseptic and iron.
Xiao approached the building and an intern doctor guided him to a bench to sit and wait. He watched the humans as he passed, trying not to think too much about the warm pulse underneath his palm. He drew his legs tightly together and when a blond-haired man holding his hand sat down next to him, he scooted farther to the edge of his seat to make room for him.
What would the doctor say when they saw it— erm, him? Would they be able to help? What if it was already somehow beyond saving?
To keep his mind off such things, Xiao once more passed his gaze over the man at his shoulder. He appeared to have some sort of cast wrapped around his forearm and wrist that he held gingerly on his lap. Xiao never allowed himself to forget how truly fragile humans could be sometimes.
When a new voice emerged, Xiao lifted his head.
“I knew I’d find you here.”
Immediate disappointment washed over him at it not being anyone Xiao recognized and he dropped the tenseness in his shoulders. A silver-haired man had stopped to stand and talk to the man with the broken arm.
“Only you would manage to break your wrist just from drawing.”
“It’s not broken, it’s sprained. And for the record, I have young-onset rheumatoid arthritis. You know this.”
“And that somehow excuses how malnourished your bones are?”
“Um, Mr. Xiao?”
The call of his name made Xiao shoot to his feet. A man in long gold and green robes approached with a clipboard.
“What can we assist you with today?” he asked.
“There is this, um…” Xiao cleared his throat and proffered the orb.
“And what is this?”
“A child.”
“Is it really? Oh, archons!” the doctor exclaimed and grabbed it from Xiao’s hands. “This is incredible! How well-preserved! And where did you find this?”
“Nahida,” Xiao said.
The two other men’s heads snapped to stare at him.
“You will have to excuse me. I’ve never seen anything quite like this before! If we don’t act quickly, I’m afraid there could be some complications. Are you alright with—”
“Yes,” Xiao interrupted. “Whatever you need to do, please spare no hesitation in doing it.”
“Please hold tight here for a moment. I’ll have my intern bring out the paperwork for you. I will be right back.”
The doctor bowed and slipped away into a side door. Xiao glanced back down at his seat and dropped into it again.
“Did you say Nahida gave that to you? You mean the dendro archon?” the blond-haired man with the broken arm asked.
“It is a little complicated,” Xiao said.
“And that was… a child?”
“Yes.”
“Not like any child I’ve ever seen.”
“Technically, it’s a clone,” Xiao said.
“If I had to guess, I would say it was done using somatic cell nuclear transfer,” the silver man said. “Using chromosomes from—”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough. I wasn’t asking for a crash course on how to create clones,” the blond-haired friend snapped.
“I do not believe I gave you my name,” Xiao said. He extended a hand. “My name is Adeptus Xiao.”
“My name’s Kaveh, and the other one’s Alhaitham. You’ll have to excuse me for not shaking your hand,” Kaveh said. He gestured to his cast. “I’m a little wrapped up at the moment.”
“Sorry.”
“No harm done,” he said, cracking a smile. “So, what are you doing with a clone given to you by Nahida?”
“It’s a long story,” Xiao said.
“But we have a lot of time,” Kaveh said.
“Technically, she did not give it to me. She gave it to my partner.”
“Tachi, right?” Alhaitham asked.
Kaveh almost fell out of his chair and he cried out in pain at something he’d done to his wrist.“Hat Guy?! He has a kid?”
“No,” Xiao said.
“Good. I’m pretty sure that guy is half insane,” Kaveh murmured. “What do you see in him?”
“I see everything,” Xiao said, cracking a small smile.
The rain had stopped by the time Xiao left the Bimarstan at the end of the day. Kaveh and Alhaitham had long gone home. Xiao had lingered on that bench for what must have been hours. The paperwork had arrived shortly as promised by the doctor but what followed were infrequent updates about the care of the child. They were setting him up in their neonatal intensive care unit and Xiao refused to go home until he could see him again.
Even then, the visit had been brief and uneventful. Xiao was not sure what he had been expecting. He had been so used to seeing the child in a red orb that to see him laid in a bed both frightened and intrigued him. The doctors and nurses told him many things about their plan for the child’s care. He regretted not bringing someone else with him to remember it all.
Xiao knew that the child would be staying at the Bimarstan for at least a few weeks but likely months. Xiao would not be allowed to touch him for some time as he was still too fragile for it. Xiao could visit whenever he wanted or at the discretion of a doctor if the child was undergoing any routine tests.
There was more about medicines and symptoms and things that Xiao didn’t understand. But the doctors said the outlook was very good so he eventually decided to go home and return tomorrow.
He hadn’t cried but his eyes hurt. His empty hands longed to feel the cool, smooth porcelain of Tachi’s skin against his. He didn’t care how many times he had to apologize to make it happen; he would find a way to bring the smile back to Tachi’s lips, the smile that made him think, “you are everything.”
People were out enjoying the evening weather as Xiao stepped away from the Bimarstan and teleported to the street Tachi lived on. The cool air and smell of petrichor followed him past the familiar row of houses as he trod toward Tachi’s door. He imagined for a moment what it would feel like for there to be no tension between them, no hard feelings or words clogging his throat struggling to come out as perfectly as he imagined them in his mind.
Xiao stopped for only a second at the front door before trying it and finding it open.
He pushed it open and stared.
In the room beyond, Tachi had curled himself up in the farthest corner on a window sill lined with cushions. His head was turned away toward the window. It was a slow, tired sunset today, the sort that does not go out in a blaze of glory but a silent melt into nighttime. Like a mother slowly tucking a child to sleep under a blanket of stars.
Between Tachi’s fingers he clutched a book Xiao had recognized on nightstands before: Yakshas: The Guardian Adepti. Decorated with annotations and creased on every page, the book had left Xiao wondering not for the first time if that is what people called yearning.
Xiao closed the door behind him with a small click. Tachi turned his head to study him, his lips still in a small, neutral frown.
In one flash, Xiao crossed the room and dropped to his knees to squeeze Tachi’s middle. It felt like diving into the deep end of a pool of water, all the sensations assaulting him at once. Tachi’s perfume. His warmth. The way he simultaneously released all of Xiao’s tension yet coiled some more tightly around his middle just by virtue of him being close.
“I’m sorry,” Xiao whispered. His fingers dug into Tachi’s kimono like a life preserver to a drowning man. “Please do not leave.”
“I wasn’t gonna go anywhere,” Tachi whispered. “After all, we promised we’d stick together, didn’t we?”
Xiao only pulled him closer. He pressed his ear flush against Tachi’s chest but heard only his own high adrenaline pumping blood throughout his body.
“I should be the one apologizing,” Tachi said. He heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to hurt you. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“It’s okay,” Xiao said. “I should have told you sooner.”
“Yes, you should have. But there’s no changing the past. And it’s not your fault I have some trust issues.”
Xiao sighed slowly. He closed his eyes as Tachi’s hand smoothed over his hair. He stayed like that for some time, so exhausted he could almost sleep.
“You went to the Bimarstan?” Tachi asked.
“Mmhm.”
“And he…”
“He will live.”
“Right.”
“I was foolish for so readily basing myself around something we had not even spoken about,” Xiao said. “I don’t know what came over me. I was just being unreasonable.”
“But you can’t deny that a part of you felt those things genuinely, can you?” Tachi asked. “That a part of you saw that child and chose to hold onto it when you had the chance.”
“Yes.”
“And in that moment, doing that felt right.”
“You have felt this way before,” Xiao said.
“Of course,” Tachi said through a sigh. “Your thoughts and feelings are coming from a good place. I’m just very tired after our trip and need some time to clear my head.”
“The child will be in the Bimarstan for some time,” Xiao said. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
“Same applies to you,” Tachi said. “C’mon, let’s leave that discussion for later. I feel like there’s some more pressing matters we need to attend to, like reassuring you that I’m not going to fly away into the sunset just because we had our first argument.”
“You are not the only one with trust issues,” Xiao said.
“Okay, but you still don’t need to grab onto me like I’m going to float away.”
“Just a little longer,” Xiao said.
He shifted his weight and Tachi leaned down to make it more comfortable.
Tachi snorted. “Okay, just a little longer.”
Notes:
I can't believe this fic is finishing on Sunday...
I've been writing these last few chapters as the posting due date approaches, which is why this is also late, but I'm determined not to let this one rot away in hiatus hell. It's been difficult churning out these chapters because I'm very self-conscious about this ending and its reception. I considered not saying anything, but in fact I am very sensitive about it. I really hope writing it still gives me the satisfaction I felt when I first thought about the idea no matter what people might think of it. I had a lot of support along the way, which I will always appreciate 💕
Thanks everyone who has been commenting! I hope you're excited for Sunday! 🤭
Chapter 42: It's Okay, I'm Here
Summary:
Tachi and Xiao settle into a new life in Sumeru with a few loose ends tied up.
Notes:
FIRST THINGS FIRST: Thank you so much to everyone who has been following along with this story! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm going to go out and buy myself some wine and cake tonight.
To anyone who commented, you have made so many of my days. A comment I got even recently motivated me a lot when I was holed up in my apartment writing 6k yesterday 😳 I hope that even though this fic is finished, you continue to share your wonderful words with other authors because I loved every single one I got!!!
I'm going to be writing a little scaraxiao oneshot soon. I had hoped to post it with this but ran out of steam so it will probably come Wednesday (in place of where the slot used to be for posting this fic 😭😭)
This is the longest chapter by far. I hope you enjoy.
Edit 10/09: I have published the raffle fic! "I'm Too Tired, You're Too Tired" is a short sickfic oneshot!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Tachi began to wake with a gentle puff of his breaths against Xiao’s skin. Limbs heavy and tangled, hair in his mouth, sunlight in his eyes, and the world could not be better. He cracked open an eye and caught himself staring at Xiao’s tattoo, the teal markings bright on his skin. His lips split open and he leaned forward to kiss it.
"Good morning," Xiao whispered, sounding all too lucid.
Tachi scoffed. "‘Morning."
Xiao didn’t move away, so Tachi didn’t, either. He dug himself deeper into his bedsheets, foot knocking into air, Xiao curled up too tightly to let his shorter legs dangle down.
"Hungry?" Tachi asked despite knowing he wasn’t, despite knowing they wouldn’t get up to grab anything.
A kiss to Tachi’s forehead.
"No."
Tachi laughed and closed his eyes again.
"What’s on the agenda today?"
"I’m going to visit the child again."
"Mhm."
"I want to talk about him with you."
"I can make time in my schedule," Tachi said, "this afternoon."
After at least another hour of cuddling, he thought.
Xiao huffed as a hand found his hair and sifted through it, lifting tresses up and allowing them to cascade back down over his shoulders. Tachi loved this sound of Xiao touching him, his gentle fingertips coasting past hair follicles and down to the nape of his neck where the sensitive electro marking embraced the feeling of his thumb gently pressing into it.
Tachi thought vaguely what sort of matching tattoos they’d ever get if he could convince Xiao to do it.
Xiao asked with a confused murmur what Tachi was huffing so amusedly at but he said nothing, only sniffled at the warm, almost stuffed feeling of his nose, and curled his hand over Xiao’s arm.
Tachi leaned back in his seat and adjusted the placement of his ramen bowl on the table. The breakfast rush was beginning to fizzle out, customers finishing up their meals and strolling back out into the warming cobblestone outside. Pollen floated in from their seat by the window and Tachi swatted it away with a protecting glare.
Xiao had already grabbed his chopsticks and begun to eat, no customs between them to stop him from executing any manners beforehand such as prayer before digging in. Tachi hid an amused smirk. Always so well-behaved in front of Zhongli, but when it was just between them, he could show how much he just wanted to eat. It was pretty fun to watch; he clearly knew how to use his chopsticks when he wasn’t racked with debt.
"So, this kid," Tachi said.
"Yes."
"He's at the Bimarstan right now."
"Yes." When Tachi didn’t say anything after a quiet beat, Xiao added, "Would you like to see him?"
Tachi's face screwed up. "Not particularly."
He picked at his noodles then leaned down and slurped up a generous portion. Broth splashed against his lips and he licked it away.
"I’m still going to do it whether you join me or not," Xiao said.
"I kinda figured. But things will be ten times more enjoyable with me around, right?"
He said it with a mischievous tone, lips quirked up into a half-bitter, half-amused smile. Xiao looked like he wasn't going to say anything, instead contemplating the broth in his bowl.
"Yes," he murmured in hesitant admittance. "It would be."
"What are your plans? Would you go back to Wangshu Inn?"
"We would go wherever you want," Xiao said. "If it's me alone, Zhongli has extra rooms in his house. We would stay there or at Wangshu Inn. If it were you and I together, we could find a house in Sumeru."
"A house would he nice..." Tachi murmured. "And he would go to school with other children?"
"Yes. And I would train him in the adeptal arts."
"Really?"
"Of course."
Tachi’s lips angled into a frown. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Because you are afraid of him becoming evil and abusing the power."
"Right."
"I will not allow it to happen."
"It's rumored that Dottore killed his own parents, you know."
"That’s only a rumor. And besides, we are nearly unkillable."
"There are ways. They're just not very enjoyable," Tachi said. Not that such a thing could ever be considered "enjoyable" in the first place.
"Anyway. Beside that. He's human, which would mean housing, education, and meals for eighteen years give or take," Tachi said. "And on top of that, who knows how much mental anguish."
"But in terms of an eternity, it is not that long," Xiao said.
"Speak for yourself. I'm only a few hundred compared to your thousands."
"Still young enough to make a difference."
Tachi nodded. "Yes. Because erasing any recollection of Scaramouche from this world's memory wasn't enough."
Xiao shrugged. "You're putting up a lot of resistance for saying that you would have an open mind."
"Sorry," Tachi said. "I'm just making sure I consider every angle."
"Come with me to visit him today. It might help inform your opinion."
"Give me a little bit more time. I was supposed to have another appointment with Nahida today. Were you just going to stay with the child all day?"
"I was thinking of visiting a daycare," Xiao said.
"To adopt… a not-evil kid?"
"To volunteer."
Tachi paused his noodle-slurping to give Xiao a sidelong glance. "Is that like child caretaking training?"
"Of a sort, yes. A friend suggested it to me."
"Where do you keep getting all these friends from?"
"I met him at the Bimarstan," Xiao said.
"Interesting. Well, good luck today. You’re going to need it."
"It can’t be any worse than fighting demons," Xiao said.
Tachi should have gone with him.
He should have gone with him, and yet he did not, winding up instead in the Akademiya’s House of Daena all evening until it was time to go home. As soon as Tachi had seen the first suggestion of bright-orange rays from through the vaulted ceilings, he’d packed up his scrolls and pens and left to go home.
Curiosity had gotten the better of him. He couldn’t stand not knowing how Xiao’s day had gone. What had he seen? What had he done? How annoying had the children been and how had he reacted to them?
Without even having to try, Tachi imagined Xiao attempting to hold a child in his arms only to fumble awkwardly, his notched eyebrows shot up in concern. Or him standing dumbly as children ran in circles around him. He wondered if Xiao had Zhongli levels of patience or if he would get annoyed at a child’s simple questions like why the sky was blue or grass green.
Tachi returned home and reclined in his favorite spot by the window with a few pieces of paper in his lap. He had started on another academic paper for the School of Vahumana and was in the process of writing up the first draft.
He was not built with idle hands. Every second could be spent doing something, of improving somehow. If there was one good quality Scaramouche had that Tachi had kept, it was never to be satisfied with the way things were. There was always more he could do.
The door opened and Xiao stepped inside.
Tachi’s lips split into an amused grin.
"Good afternoon," Xiao said as he approached.
One of the long, half-neon bangs that fell down around his shoulders was moving a little more stiffly than usual. Tachi cocked his head at the pinkish stain that glued the strands of hair to the side of his face and down his neck.
"You have a little something there," Tachi said.
He reached out and poked at Xiao’s cheek where the stain had traveled up.
Xiao cleared his throat. "I was hoping you would not notice."
"Considering you spent all day with children, I’m surprised it’s not worse. What did they do to you? Try to glue you together?"
"They wanted to share their strawberry jam with me."
"How considerate," Tachi said. He swiped a finger against Xiao’s jaw and sucked the strawberry off.
Xiao stared at him then cleared his throat, his cheeks warming. "Could you help?"
"As payment, I’m expecting a full rundown of the rest of your day," Tachi said. "I want full details. Now. Let’s get the bath running for you."
The faucet hissed and sputtered as Tachi plugged the drain and turned toward the cabinet to rifle through their options of soaps and body washes. He didn’t own much— he kept fairly clean usually. Xiao, on the other hand…
Tachi leaned back and drew up an eyebrow as Xiao entered the room. There were more stains than he had first thought on his clothing. And another tuft of hair sticking out of the side of Xiao’s head.
Tachi turned back toward the cabinet, grabbed a bottle of bubble bath soap, and squirted it into the tub.
"C’mon, out of those old clothes with you," Tachi said. "Don’t make me do it for you."
Xiao removed the shoulder guard first then the necklace, approaching Tachi’s side to leave them on the bathroom counter. Everything clacked together, the pearls on his necklace rolling toward the basin of the sink.
Tachi undid the bow on his shorts, sighing as the obi came undone in his hands.
"You will be joining me?" Xiao asked.
"Yes? Unless you didn’t want me to?" Tachi asked.
"No, no, it’s good," Xiao said.
"Here, let me help," Tachi said.
He turned toward Xiao and slipped his hands into Xiao’s waistband to yank him closer. A strangled cry split from Xiao’s lips and Tachi burst into cackles.
"You just stand there and look pretty. I’ll take care of these pesky clothes," Tachi said.
"Allow me to do the same for you."
"Gasp! You don’t mean— undressing me?" Tachi asked.
"When you say it like that…"
"You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed!"
"Please, let’s just get in the bath already," Xiao said.
"Your wish is my command."
Xiao sat between Tachi’s legs with his head thrown back, nestled against Tachi’s right shoulder. They were just small enough to fit into the tub without spilling any bubbles onto the bathroom floor, Tachi’s legs drawn up just a little to make the position work. Xiao hummed as Tachi splashed more water onto the back of his head and worked the soap into his scalp.
"How was your day?" Tachi asked.
Water steadily dribbled from the faucet into the water behind Tachi’s back. Other than the intermittent plops of water and Tachi’s fingertips scrubbing Xiao’s hair, the room was quiet.
"It was good. The child didn’t look any different from yesterday."
"So he’s stable."
"For now."
"Then that’s good," Tachi said.
Solely in terms of Xiao’s happiness, though.
"And then you went to the daycare for the rest of the day?" Tachi asked.
"Yes."
"And they smeared strawberry jam all over you."
"A little."
"And you don’t care?"
"They looked like they were having fun."
"You are so nonplussed," Tachi said. "Maybe you really do have the patience for this."
"You think so?"
"I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t."
"I’m glad," Xiao said.
"It takes a lot of patience to deal with children. They will find ways to get on your nerves, just you wait. Your sanity is crucial."
"Is that something I really should be concerned about?"
"With you? Maybe not as much. But it’s still something you have to be conscious of," Tachi asked. "The last thing you want is find out you upset a child so badly they throw a tantrum and won’t come out of their room to eat."
Not that he had ever done such a thing, Tachi thought, as his hands slid from Xiao’s hair down to his shoulders. Then down to Xiao’s biceps where they squeezed once. Xiao made a half-choking sound and the water rippled, disturbed, as Xiao’s hands felt behind him for Tachi’s stomach. His fingers glided over Tachi’s abdomen but no lower.
"Watch where you’re touching," Tachi whispered, an amused huff passing through his lips.
"And what if I’m doing that intentionally?"
"Then you should do it again."
So Xiao did, his calloused fingers stroking the ridge of where the circular marking began on his stomach. Was he searching for the scar where Kazuha had stabbed him or just trying to be seductive? Either way, The touch felt good. Tachi hummed his approval and leaned farther back to encourage him to continue.
Xiao half turned around in his seat and a hand lifted up to reach for Tachi’s chin. Tachi grinned and kissed him on the tip of his nose.
"No," Xiao grumbled.
Tachi laughed. "Is that not enough for you? Thinking of something a little more?"
He dropped his gaze onto Xiao’s lips and Xiao followed the gesture, mimicking it with his own.
Xiao turned half around, as magnificently flexible as always, and pressed a kiss to Tachi’s lips. Fingers found his hair and stroked slowly, slipping against the nape of his neck to curl his fingers there.
Tachi sighed softly and closed his eyes. He closed his teeth down on Xiao’s lips, expecting the small gasp of surprise that dusted his cheek. The kisses continued, this time hungrier, impatient. Xiao didn’t give Tachi a chance to bite him again, his lips too occupied, his hands too tangled in Xiao’s limbs to care.
A few weeks later…
Tachi reclined in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d tucked his arms behind his head as he thought about waking up. The sunlight on his face felt good; maybe he wouldn’t get out of bed today and just curl back up in the blankets. After all, when was the last time he had actually taken a full weekend off? Next to him, Xiao rolled onto Tachi’s stomach and propped his elbows up on either side of him.
Most nights, Xiao stayed out late doing who-knows-what. Probably fighting demons or what have you. Tachi still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that he didn’t need to eat or sleep. He had thought Xiao had been joking the first time he had said as much to Mochou. But no, it seemed to be true. Sometimes, Tachi would find Xiao up meditating at night. Or, when Xiao often "slept" curled around his middle, Tachi would wake to find Xiao idly playing with his hair.
Just like today.
Xiao, lain across Tachi’s stomach, reached for the longer wisps of hair near Tachi’s ears and twisted them in his fingers.
"You’ve been playing with my hair all morning. Do you want something?" Tachi whispered, his lips edged with an amused smile.
"I want you to look at me."
"I’m looking," he said, taking the invitation to stare at the way Xiao’s messy hair almost got into his mouth and eyes. How those eyes glowed warmly and his cheeks glowed lightly with that telltale teal yaksha blood.
"I want you to visit the child with me today."
Tachi heaved a slow, resigned sigh. He made a show of doing it, but to be honest, he had been planning on saying "yes" for a while now.
Because living with Xiao had fallen into a routine. Wake up. Go back to sleep for at least an hour. Actually get out of bed, clean up, have breakfast, and be asked, without fail, if he would like to join Xiao at the Bimarstan.
The difference about today, however, was that Xiao had finally perfected his puppy-dog eye look. He’d been working on it steadily for a while now, Tachi had suspected. He had probably been hanging around that blasted architect too much, who practically lived in this look.
"I’ll go with you. Happy?" Tachi asked.
"Immeasurably," Xiao said, and it was true. A wide smile graced his lips, one of those rare ones that reached all the way to his eyes and made him squint up with joy.
He grabbed Tachi around his middle and hugged him enough to make ribs crack. Tachi wheezed and laughed as Xiao nuzzled into his sun-warmed skin.
The Bimarstan was fairly quiet when Tachi and Xiao arrived after breakfast. Tachi kept his lips tightly sealed, reminding himself that he was doing this for Xiao. He wouldn’t say anything rude or judgmental without giving the kid a chance.
Even though he half hated his guts.
Every day that passed was another day closer to the baby being released into their possession. Every day, Xiao dropped a few more hints that he was really planning on just showing up on their doorstep one evening with the baby swaddled in his arms. It didn’t feel real, this liminal space between death by karmic debt and eighteen year suffering by Dottore clone.
They hadn’t even bought any baby furniture yet, Tachi thought with dual shock and disgust. Ah. Because Xiao didn’t know children needed such things…
Now Tachi felt bad on top of everything else. As if he didn’t feel enough regret for turning down Xiao’s pleas to visit for the last month and a half.
Xiao led him down the hall to the proper ward. Tachi lingered behind, allowing himself to take curious glances at everything and soak it in. Soak in the fact that he’d be seeing the baby he was going to be expected to devote his future to.
Unsurprisingly to himself, though, he didn’t feel nervous. He just hoped the kid didn’t look as close to Dottore as he feared he might.
Xiao stopped in front of a counter with Tachi at his shoulder. Off a branching side hallway, Tachi heard bare feet on the floor and nearly whipped his head around quickly enough to dislocate his head.
Nahida and a doctor approached and before they had even finished approaching the counter, Tachi cleared his throat and called, "Hello, Lesser Lord Kusanali. Didn’t expect to see you here."
"I’m actually here on business," Nahida said. She tried to avoid his eyes but still stopped next to him, which made him smile. All business, but still family.
The doctor cleared his throat. "Good thing you’re here too, Mr. Xiao. We were conducting some tests and discovered that the child has a genetic match to a dangerous individual and former student we have blacklisted from ever returning to the Akademiya, so we summoned the archon for her decision on how to proceed."
Tachi’s lips split into a grin. "Really?"
At his side, Xiao rammed an elbow into his middle.
"We can explain," Xiao said.
"We could, but I’m afraid it’s classified information," Nahida said. "I hope you’ll excuse us for not disclosing the information sooner. I was hoping to avoid this conversation altogether."
"Okay. If that is case, we have some paperwork we need the guardians to fill out. And written approval from the archon allowing the child to stay will also be required."
"Okay," Xiao said. "Is it a security issue?"
"The genetic match was exactly the same," the doctor said. "We were half concerned that he had infiltrated Sumeru somehow. But if Lesser Lord Kusanali already understands the situation, then we can put it to rest."
"Can we see him?" Nahida asked.
"Oh, of course. Right this way."
The doctor turned on his heel and gestured for them to follow him. At Tachi’s side, he felt Xiao knocking their hands together. Tachi looked up; Xiao’s eyebrows knitted with worry.
Tachi glanced down to Nahida and found her sneakily hiding her stare from him, too.
Ugh, the last thing he needed was everyone worrying over his reaction.
The doctor reached a door and opened it.
"Oh, Golshan. Do you mind helping these three with their visit today? I’m terribly sorry Lesser Lord Kusanali, but I have other matters to attend to so I will have to leave you here," he said.
"No worries," Nahida said. "After all, I’m not visiting in a professional capacity anymore. You can consider me this baby’s… ‘godmother.’"
"Hmm… is that so? Either way, thank you. Please do not hesitate to ask Golshan if you need anything," he said, then turned on his heel and walked away.
Golshan turned out to be a youthful-looking nurse who smiled when they entered the room and rose from where she had been seated next to a bassinet.
"Welcome back, Xiao. I didn’t know you’d be bringing guests to— oh! Lesser Lord Kusanali!"
Golshan dropped into a deep bow with her hands in front of her. When she lifted her eyes again, they fell on Tachi.
"And her assistant! How may I help you?"
"No need to be so formal," Nahida said. "We just came to see how the baby’s doing."
"He’s doing very well, thank you for asking," Golshan said. She turned toward Xiao and clasped her hands together. "I actually had a question for you. I know in the past you’ve left the baby cuddling for other people, but now that he’s gained some weight, maybe you’ll reconsider? I promise you won’t hurt him, really."
"You’ve been refusing to hold him?" Tachi asked.
"Not refusing, just—" Xiao grunted and turned his eyes toward the bassinet again. "I was worried about hurting it. Erm, him."
Nahida laughed. "You should give it a go, Xiao! It might make you feel good."
Xiao turned toward Tachi. Tachi jutted his chin in Nahida’s direction. "What she said."
Xiao cleared his throat and took another look at the bassinet. "Okay, I would like to try."
"Don’t worry, I’ve held plenty of babies. I’ll show you how it’s done," Golshan said.
Golshan crossed the room and the others followed. Tachi led the back of the pack, keeping his arms folded tightly over his chest. He guarded the door, practically blurring his vision to avoid having to see what the baby looked like. Ignorance was bliss and all that.
But the first glimpse of bright baby blue left him freezing up. Xiao looked similarly shocked, although for entirely different reasons.
Golshan whispered some words of encouragement to Xiao as she extracted the baby from the bassinet and gestured for him to open his arms up. Tachi’s nails dug into his skin as Xiao turned around holding the baby in his arms.
Xiao stared at the baby, curling a palm to fit around the back of his head. He hummed once and smiled softly as a finger drew small semicircles over the baby’s forehead.
The baby didn’t seem to notice. He looked to be asleep, one of those tiny sausage arms curled to press against Xiao’s chest. Tiny fingers opened and closed on nothing.
"Are they really supposed to be this small?" Xiao asked, his voice lower and quieter than usual.
"Yes," Golshan said.
"And he is still breathing?"
"Yeah. See? His body’s just very small so it’s a little more difficult to see."
"Is it—"
Xiao began another question then stopped. The baby’s fingers had closed around one of Xiao’s fingers and he froze again, his eyes finally grabbing Tachi’s from across the room.
No, something so silly would not undo him.
"Tachi," Xiao said.
"What?" Tachi asked, just to tease.
"Tachi," Nahida said, and somehow Xiao looked even more worried despite the baby not moving another iota.
It was almost laughable how worried Xiao was over being bad at this. And yet somehow extremely adorable that he was trying so hard and doing so well even if he didn’t think so.
Tachi sighed and dropped his arms as he crossed the room. Xiao visibly relaxed once Tachi joined his side. His heart soared at the feeling of being able to bring that sort of change just merely by being close, and it was only doubled when he touched the side of Xiao’s arm and Xiao leaned in closer toward him.
"You’re doing fine," Tachi whispered. "Try rocking him. Just sway back and forth a little bit."
"Okay…"
Although still a little stiff, Xiao made an effort, swaying back and forth on his feet with the baby pressed close to his chest. Tachi stared at Xiao more than the baby. He would have plenty of time to look at him later but these expressions of wonderment, that wide-eyed surprise and interest in the banal, was something Tachi would never tire of when it came to Xiao.
"It’s your turn," Xiao said a little too eagerly, turning back toward Tachi.
Tachi’s eyes went wide. "Me?"
"If we are to do this together, I want to see you do it, too," Xiao said.
"Go on, Tachi! I know you’ll be great!" Nahida said.
With a roll of his eyes, Tachi opened his arms wide. "Alright, hand him over."
Xiao pulled his finger from the baby’s grip then stared at Tachi’s arms warily before looking back at his own predicament.
"Uhh…" Xiao mumbled.
Tachi laughed. "Alright, I’ll extract him myself."
He took another step forward and curled his hands around the torso of the child. He pulled carefully, just enough to loosen Xiao’s grip on him before Xiao let go and Tachi was able to maneuver the baby into a more comfortable position.
Wow, it had been a hot second since he held a baby. He forgot how weird it felt. Niwa had always liked it when Tachi offered to hold his child because his joints didn’t really tire of being in the same position for hours at a time.
He opted to hold the baby up, supporting his bum while he faced Tachi’s shoulder.
"Can I see?" Nahida asked.
"Mmh," Tachi hummed and knelt down so Nahida could get a better look at him.
"Are you the father?" Golshan asked.
"Excuse me?"
"The way you hold him is very natural."
"No, I’ve just had practice," Tachi said.
"Oh, while you’re here! Xiao, I heard from Dr. Zakariya that you have some forms you need to fill out. I’ve been asking Xiao for weeks now but we still haven’t had an answer: What is his name?"
"Name?" Tachi repeated.
He hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest. He turned toward Xiao.
"I was hoping you would name him."
"Why me?" Tachi asked, but then he caught Nahida’s gaze. "Don’t say it."
"It is a bonding activity," Xiao said.
"That’s one word for it," Tachi said.
"Did you have any ideas or did you two want to discuss it more first?" Golshan asked.
"You’re fine with me naming him? Really?" Tachi asked Xiao.
Xiao nodded.
Tachi glanced back to the head of light blue hair and reached with a tentative hand to stroke it.
"Ichi," he said. "Short for Ichiro."
Beside him, Nahida giggled. "I can tell that you named him."
A few days later…
"…And we don’t even own a bed, dammit. Where is he supposed to sleep? In the bed with us? Who knows? I might roll over and crush him by accident in the middle of the night."
Tachi sat across from Nahida, swirling his cup of tea and taking intermittent sips of it. She plucked the sweet things off the plate in the center of the table and stored them in her cheeks like a chipmunk.
After swallowing, Nahida said, "I was actually wondering whether you and Xiao were going to stay in Liyue with the baby after he was put into your care."
"Liyue? Why? Don’t tell me you’re firing me."
"It would be a sort-of paternity leave," Nahida said.
"Paternity leave," Tachi repeated.
"How long has it been since Xiao’s been back home?"
"For all I know, he was back yesterday."
"For an extended time," Nahida amended.
"You make a point."
"While you’re away, you can still work on your papers, too. If I remember, Xiao wanted to talk with Zhongli about finding some property in Liyue, right?" Nahida asked.
"Liyue-Sumeru border is more specifically what we agreed upon, but yes."
"Then this works out well."
"It does," Tachi said.
"Is something else bothering you?" Nahida asked.
"No, not really. Just the usual. A whole child."
"Well, Sumeru hasn’t caught on fire yet," Nahida said.
"Emphasis on the ‘yet’," Tachi said before taking another sip of his tea.
They’d come out today for the usual round of gossip and life-related talk, which they met up for weekly. Things had been ramping up a little more since Tachi’s first visit with the baby.
Ichi, Tachi amended in his mind bitterly. Why had he so spur-of-the moment decided to give the kid a name so similar to his own? It was going to drive him crazy from how much Xiao had already said it in the few days the baby had had the name, with Tachi’s ears twitching at the thought that Xiao was talking about him.
But it had felt good to do it. At least he wasn’t "Dottore’s clone" in Tachi’s head anymore.
"We can probably make arrangements to visit Liyue soon then. That’s ideal. Don’t want to wait on this sort of thing. I heard that Ichi’s supposed to be out of the Bimarstan next month," Tachi said.
"That’s great! It means he’s healing well," Nahida said.
"And too quickly, some might say. I knew Dottore bounced back easily from injuries but I was hoping for a little more time."
"Just don’t forget that this isn’t Dottore we’re talking about," Nahida said.
"I know," Tachi said. "I’ll talk to Xiao about it tonight."
"Great!" Nahida said.
"By the way," Tachi began then rose from his chair and walked around to Nahida’s side.
She briefly looked up at him with her eyebrows curled up before Tachi knelt down to her height and swallowed her in a hug.
He pulled away quickly, clearing his throat as he said, "I love you."
Nahida laughed and reached to squeeze his hand in hers. "I love you too, Hat Guy! You’re doing an amazing job."
A few days later…
Tachi would never understand why humans found gathering in dim buildings late at night so fun. But, upon looking at the man who had invited them out tonight, maybe it made sense.
Kaveh had squeezed himself into the window seat at the end of their table, his arm slung over Tighnari’s and Alhaitham’s shoulders as he sang out off-key notes to a tune nobody else could hear. At Tachi’s side, Xiao’s hand sneaked around his glass of fruits of the festival, a spunky blue drink he had ordered for the alcoholic content and the interesting gradient. Turns out he had grown bored of it quickly but, as seemed to have become a trend, Xiao adopted it and had started taking steady sips of it throughout their dinner.
It had gotten late enough into the night that now all that was left were the drinking games. Cyno— seated on Xiao’s other side— had brought out cards and began to distribute them around the table.
Tachi took a second to study Xiao’s expression again but he was making no indication that he wanted out of the social entrapment just yet. This was a torture of his own requesting; after all, it was Kaveh who had invited Xiao out and Xiao who had asked Tachi to come.
"I want to understand humans’ social habits more," he had said before showing Tachi the invitation he had received.
"Do y’know how to play poker?" Kaveh asked presently.
"No," Xiao said.
"Don’t worry, I can teach you," Tachi said.
"Where did you learn to play poker?" Xiao asked.
"The Harbingers. Look, sit this first game out. I’ll show you how it’s done."
"Fatui? Like the Tsaritsa’s military?" Kaveh asked. "And you’re right-hand man to Lesser Lord Kusnali?"
"And I’m the Shogun’s son," Tachi said. He leaned across the table and picked up his cards from where Cyno had dished them out. "It’s pronounced Kusanali, by the way."
"I’m afraid he’s not thinking clearly anymore," Alhaitham said.
"Did he ever to begin with?" Tachi murmured under his breath. "Let’s just get this game over with. I have a therapy appointment early tomorrow morning."
Kaveh snorted from across the table and Tachi shot him a glare. In his peripheral vision, he saw Xiao throwing a drink back. If adepti didn’t need to eat or sleep, could they even get drunk?
"What? I’ve lived a long life. It’s a lot of trauma to work through," Tachi said. "You should try therapy. You look like you need it."
"Hey! Don’t tell me what’s good for me," Kaveh grumbled, his speech slurred, as he slapped down his hand and pulled his cards closer.
"Okay, duly noted," Tachi said. He glanced back at Xiao again. "Are you paying attention?"
"Yes," Xiao said.
"Good."
"Shall we start out easy?" Cyno asked.
"You don’t need to go easy on me, I’ll assure you of that much," Tachi said, a grin already streaking across his lips.
"Pretty confident, aren’t ya?" Kaveh asked.
"And why wouldn’t I be? I’ve never lost before," Tachi said.
"Oh, challenge accepted," Kaveh scowled.
"Seconded," Cyno added.
Tachi might have been a bold-faced liar and he might have nearly folded but it was fun. If for no other reason than because he found every opportunity he could to sneak whispers to Xiao from behind his wall of cards that he left splayed open like a fan, hiding their faces behind hearts. He swore to Celestia above that he even managed to make Xiao laugh at one point, which was enough to throw Kaveh into a fit whereupon he threw his losing cards down and declared that he quit.
Just as the game was coming to a close, Tachi felt a weight beside him and found Xiao resting his head on Tachi’s shoulder with his eyes closed. Ugh, was there a sweeter sight?
"So much for an adepts who doesn’t need sleep," Tachi said as he consciously dragged the last dredges of his drink across the table to his lips and emptied the glass in one gulp. "Blegh."
"Is it true that you guys will be leaving Sumeru soon?" Tighnari asked.
"Yeah, that’s right," Tachi said.
"Thought you just came back from a vacation?" Kaveh asked.
"It’s not a vacation this time. It’s strictly business," Tachi said. "We’re going to get a contract done up."
"What kinda contract?" Kaveh asked.
"Wouldn’t you like to know?" Tachi sneered.
"Yeah! Otherwise why would I ask?"
"It’s boring so I’m not going to tire you with it," Tachi said. He pushed his chair back a little but Xiao didn’t stir at his side. "We really do have to head out before Xiao poisons himself. By the way, Tighnari, thank you for the medicine you shared before."
"Oh, I had almost forgotten about that," Tighnari said. "You’re welcome."
"C’mon sleepyhead, up," Tachi said.
He pushed the chair back the rest of the way and rose onto his feet. Xiao slumped against him then caught himself right before crashing to the ground. His hand shot out and gripped the edge of the counter as his golden eyes sparked under the soft glow of the lanterns overhead.
"We’re going home," Tachi announced.
Xiao slipped out of his stool and onto his feet. He turned toward the rest of the table and together they rattled off the rest of their goodbyes before Tachi opened one of his arms up, indicative of the sort of drunken stumbling a friend might do with the other person half-supporting his side as they dallied down the street together. Either Xiao understood or made a good attempt to act, because he easily dropped his weight onto Tachi’s arm and followed him out the door.
It wasn’t until they had made it down the street that Xiao pushed back a little and stood on his own feet again.
"You don’t need to be carried after all, huh?" Tachi asked as Xiao broke away.
Xiao didn’t say anything, although the way his eyes raked over Tachi certainly made him feel a certain way.
And then, before Tachi had even realized what was happening, Xiao took a step forward and grabbed him by his middle. Only one stray scream managed to leave Tachi’s throat before Xiao had slung Tachi over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.
Tachi fell silent after that, clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle the worst of the laughter threatening to echo out over the rest of the city.
Xiao teleported them to inside Tachi’s room where Xiao dumped him unceremoniously onto the edge of the bed. The fall was enough for Tachi to almost bounce back onto the floor and the laughter finally burst from his lips.
"What are you doing?" Tachi asked.
"I want you to myself."
"In that case, you have me right where you want me," Tachi said.
He hadn’t even managed to kick off his shoes by the time Xiao leaned over him and kissed him on the nape of his neck. Xiao’s lips were hot, leaving behind a trail of pain where he bit down too roughly. Tachi gasped but didn’t push him away. If anything, he hadn’t expected this side of him at all.
"Hey, don’t bite so— ohhh," Tachi sighed dreamily when Xiao licked up the spot he had already bit then brought his lips close again to suck on the skin.
What was he doing? Ah, who cared? It felt good.
The bedsheets stirred again as Xiao leaned over to straddle him. Eager hands found fabric and peeled it away, eyes latching together, lips turning up in easy smiles.
It seemed the night was young yet.
A few more days later…
Tachi adjusted his posture but couldn’t find a position that didn’t feel at least a little awkward. His feet somehow felt sore in their shoes despite him not having the muscles to complain about it and his nose itched though he had started to make a game of not scratching it. At his side, Xiao stared straight ahead, his hands resting in his lap. Tachi reached out to poke at his fingers, which earned him a sideways glance but no move to hold his hand. After all, Ferrylady was just down the hall.
Wangsheng Funeral Parlor must have become twice as dusty compared to the last time he had awoken from a coffin he thought he recognized through peeks of an opening and closing door down the hall. They were just waiting for Zhongli to come out of a meeting with Director Hu, which Ferrylady reassured would only be a few minutes.
When Zhongli emerged from the end of the hall, Xiao shot to his feet so quickly that Tachi almost thought he was going to teleport to meet him over there. But instead, Xiao waited until Zhongli got closer to almost bow before realizing his mistake and settling for a brisk "Hello" instead.
"I wasn’t expecting both of you here," Zhongli said. "How can I help you?"
"We had some important life updates for you," Tachi said. "And I had a question about a contract."
"Hm, I see. Director Hu, I will be taking my lunch early today," Zhongli said, throwing his head over his shoulder to look back toward the room he had emerged from.
"Got it," a female voice drifted from the other end of the hall.
"…But ‘death do us part’ sounds a little unrealistic, don’t you think?"
Tachi reclined back in his seat as he read back over the contract Zhongli had showed him. He had never read wedding vows before but from what he saw, they were all abundantly verbose and a little cliché. Covert glances in Xiao’s direction suggested that he didn’t have any substantial hangups on the wording, however, so Tachi had resorted to general nitpicking to make sure Zhongli didn’t have any better contributions to make to wording that he otherwise found was pretty lackluster.
"It’s just the typical boilerplate but you can replace with whatever you feel suits you better, such as perhaps ‘for yours evermore’," Zhongli said.
"That sounds good to me," Xiao said.
"If you like that, then we can go with it," Tachi said. "Was there anything else?"
Xiao shook his head.
Tachi tapped the contract once, poking it into the center of the table. "Then I think we’re ready to sign."
He had expected the declaration to feel a lot more substantial. But then again, the marriage contract was just a thin little piece of paper. He couldn’t expect its impact to shake his whole world or anything.
Zhongli didn’t even pull out any elemental abilities. He was using plain paper where Tachi had always imagined something swirling with geo infusion or something else cheesy. Instead, Zhongli plucked a fountain pen from a collection on his desk and offered it to Xiao, who accepted and leaned over the contract to sign his name in small, sweeping cursive.
Once Xiao finished, he turned toward Tachi with the pen still pinched between his fingers and an expectant look in his eyes. Tachi took the pen from him and looked over the contract again. Xiao’s signature was gorgeous. Who had taught him how to read and write, anyway? When was the next time Tachi would see his handwriting, if ever?
Enough stalling.
Tachi signed his line with swirling cursive too then handed the pen back and stared as Zhongli lifted the paper from the table and showed it to them. He had not noticed before that the ink sparkled with small specks of gold in the daylight.
"Congratulations," Zhongli said.
"Thank you," Xiao said.
To Tachi’s shock, he felt Xiao’s hand find his underneath the table and bring it up to his lips. They had not yet gotten rings; Tachi wasn’t even sure he wanted one. But when Xiao kissed his skin like that in such a blatant public display of his affection, it made him nearly melt into the back of his chair for Ferrylady to pick up with a dustpan.
After their dealings with Zhongli at the Funeral Parlor, Xiao and Tachi spoke outside about their plans for the evening.
"I think I’m going with Zhongli to see a show," Tachi said. He hadn’t let go of Xiao’s hand since he grabbed it to kiss the knuckles. "You should come with."
"I wish I could but I had plans to speak with the other adepti," Xiao said.
Tachi heaved a sigh but Xiao could tell it was mostly just his usual flair for the dramatics surfacing. "Alright, but you have to be at the inn like we promised before sundown."
"I know."
"Good. Because otherwise I’ll be screaming your name from Qingyun Peak."
"Please don’t."
"Then keep to your promise and I won’t have to," Tachi said with a grin.
"I really do have to go now. I will speak with you again soon," Xiao said. He took a step back and prepared to teleport before adding in a belated, "enjoy your show."
"Make sure to tell Cloud Retainer I said hello," Tachi said with a wry smirk.
Mountain Shaper, Moon Carver, and Cloud Retainer were waiting for Xiao when he arrived outside Cloud Retainer’s abode. Dishes of adeptus’ temptation and universal peace had been placed around the low stone table although the adepti didn’t sit in the vacant stools. Xiao had half been hoping to see Streetward Rambler at the gathering but tamped his disappointment with a bow.
"Sorry I’m late."
When he lifted his head, the other three only stared at him.
"Where is he?" Cloud Retainer asked.
"Tachi stayed back to talk with Zhongli," Xiao said. "He says hello."
"No, one is talking about the child."
"Oh," Xiao said. "He is still healing at the Bimarstan."
Cloud Retainer’s wings flapped indignantly. "One thought you would be bringing him to us! How discourteous!"
"Ichi isn’t suited for travel yet," Xiao said. "But I can bring him later."
"So his name is Ichi?" Moon Carver asked.
Xiao nodded.
"What does it mean?"
"Tachi told me it means ‘first’," Xiao said. "Ichiro means ‘first son.’"
"One is surprised at how practical the naming is," Cloud Retainer said.
"This is Tachi," Xiao murmured. The man who had named himself after a young adult male role in classic Inazuman theater. He could be… startlingly on the nose.
"When will you begin his adeptal arts training?" Mountain Shaper asked.
"Oh, um, I am not sure," Xiao said. "Tachi and I have not yet decided."
"You should start as soon as possible! We shall assist!"
"I will let you know when we start," Xiao said.
He shifted on his feet uncomfortably. Although Tachi’s trepidation about Ichi had simmered in recent days, Xiao had grown too accustomed to Ichi being met with derision. He knew that Streetward Rambler was master to Yaoyao, a human child. And similar had been the case for Cloud Retainer with Shenhe.
But he still didn’t know how to talk about child-rearing with them. The only people he shared those thoughts with were the other volunteers at the daycare he had been working at.
"Are you feeling okay?" Mountain Shaper asked.
"Hm? Oh, yes, I am fine," Xiao said. "Just thinking."
"One heard that you have been volunteering to care for other children. You must be exhausted! Come sit, eat with us," Cloud Retainer said.
Xiao shuffled into a chair and sat down.
"I am not that tired," Xiao said.
"Really?"
"Yes?" Xiao asked.
"Child rearing is very difficult work," Mountain Shaper said. "But you will do well. You have changed since last we spoke."
"I hope you are right," Xiao said. "Last week when I held Ichi, it felt so strange. They are really supposed to be that small?"
"Try doing it with wings," Cloud Retainer said with a little accentuating flap of them.
Trying to imagine that made Xiao’s lips twitch. That sounded… somehow humorous. Tachi would probably be laughing if he were here.
"Tachi has agreed to help, so everything will turn out alright."
"You have placed quite a lot of trust into him," Moon Carver said.
"We were finishing our vows right before this."
"Congratulations," Cloud Retainer said with a flap of her wings that he had to imagine was her attempt at applause.
"Thank you," Xiao said.
"Is it true that he now carries your debt?" Moon Carver asked.
"Yes," Xiao said.
"Fascinating. One regrets not helping. If you need anything, feel free to come to us."
"Thank you," Xiao said. "In fact, I had some questions about children…"
"One will do her best to answer them," Cloud Retainer said.
The adepti had a way of taking one hour and making it feel like five.
It had always felt this way with them. It was part of the reason Xiao tried to avoid meetups with them as much as he could. They often managed to make him feel impossibly old and yet embarrassingly young that he never found their conversations as enjoyable as they seemed to.
If Tachi were here, certainly that would not be the case. With Tachi, time always flew. No time was enough. They had parted not even two hours ago and Xiao was already itching to see him again.
He kept a studious eye on the sun until he felt it was appropriately close enough to sunset for him to get away with another respectful goodbye and then a teleport away.
The adepti didn’t seem to mind the more hasty departure. They probably thought Xiao was tired and wanted some rest.
What he really wanted was to come back home.
The teleporting had dropped him down the road from Wangshu Inn. That had been intentional; Xiao wanted to tread the same path Tachi had when he had returned after Mochou left. He retraced Tachi’s steps and lifted his head the same way to look toward the balconies overlooking the plains.
Xiao’s heart ached for them. And despite just finishing his meal with the adepti, his stomach hungered for almond tofu. The almond tofu Tachi made.
Xiao began his walk up to the inn, children and adults passing him on their way to Liyue Harbor. A little girl in a red dress clutched a doll to her chest and cast Xiao a sideways glance. Children always liked when he smiled at the daycare, so he smiled at her only for her to turn and shyly hide her face in the pleats of her mother’s dress.
They finished passing and Xiao gazed up at the balconies. He saw a few people standing near the railing and among them was a certain wide-brimmed blue hat that brought another smile to Xiao’s lips.
Tachi had slipped down from the upper balcony to the front entrance of the inn to receive Xiao when he walked up the path toward him. He tipped his hat down low over his eyes, though it wasn’t enough to shield the wide smile from his lips.
"You know, it was quite fun watching you walk all the way here when I know you can teleport."
"Does Zhongli not also take time to do this sort of thing?" Xiao asked. "I thought I would try it."
"And how did it feel?"
A little boring, to be honest. "You kept me moving the whole time," Xiao said.
"Aww, you flatter me!" Tachi shouted and pushed a hand into Xiao’s shoulder.
Xiao reached for the fingers and brought them up to his lips for a kiss.
"Verr Goldet was asking about you. We should go say hello."
"Okay," Xiao said.
Tachi intertwined their fingers together and turned back toward the stairs leading inside.
Xiao heard the other worker’s voices before he saw them mulling past with fresh stacks of folded laundry and cooked dishes they delivered to patrons waiting outside. Verr Goldet was standing, as always, at the front desk with her ledger and a sharp-nibbed pen.
"Welcome home," she said when her eyes fell on Xiao.
"It’s good to be back," Xiao said.
"You’ve changed."
She set the pen down and pushed the things aside. It was seldom that Xiao smiled and even more seldom that Verr Goldet did. He had missed that about her. Always so straightforward with her feelings, not unlike himself. When she was happy, everyone knew.
"Well, he hasn’t gotten taller," Tachi said.
"Hey," Xiao mumbled. Just because Tachi was right did not mean he had to say it.
Verr Goldet burst into laughter. "It’s good to see that you’re doing well. What was Tachi telling me about a child?"
"Ichi isn’t with us today," Xiao said. "We’re still planning on where we will be staying with him once he gets out of the Bimarstan."
"Why not here?" Verr Goldet asked.
"That’s one of the options we were considering, yes," Tachi said. "Don’t worry about it. Wherever we settle down, we’ll be taking frequent trips. Both Zhongli and Nahida are asking about seeing him regularly."
"It’s rare to have such a popular baby," Verr Goldet said.
"Sounds about right with parents like us," Tachi said. "Xiao still has his old room, right?"
"Of course. It would not be Wangshu Inn without Xiao."
"Then let’s go. I want to see how dusty it’s gotten."
"I’m glad to see you again," Verr Goldet said. "Don’t stay out too late. That’s when the monsters come out."
Tachi stifled a scoff as he turned on his heel to climb up another set of stairs. Xiao lingered behind just a second long enough to utter another "thank you" before turning to follow.
Tachi took the steps two at a time and Xiao lunged after him. They stepped out onto the uppermost balcony, which the setting sun had already touched with its bright pinks.
Xiao’s heart skipped a beat. The last time they had been at Wangshu Inn during a sunset, it had been a dream. He squeezed Tachi’s hand more tightly in his as they walked out onto the landing. With a burst of anemo, Tachi shot up into the sky and floated toward the edge of the rooftop. Xiao let go of his hand as he drifted away.
"You coming?" Tachi asked.
Xiao hopped up on waves of anemo of his own, his feet landing on the edge of a shingle. Tachi strode across the rooftop until he found the spot he had been searching for and sat down again, patting the spot next to him for Xiao to join.
Xiao sat down and crossed his legs. Tachi dropped a hand onto Xiao’s knee and squeezed. With a flick of his hand, his hat disappeared. Hs hair glimmered deep indigos against the nape of his neck, the sun painting edges of it bright pink. Faded feathered violet markings peeked at Xiao from underneath his collar. At Xiao’s glance, Tachi cleared his throat and Xiao’s cheeks heated.
"You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed," Tachi whispered.
"I wish you had a shred of dignity," Xiao said.
Tachi laughed. "Well, nobody’s built perfect. And for your information, I happen to have a lot of dignity."
"Mhm," Xiao said. He pressed his fingers into Tachi’s collarbone and curved up to the markings on his throat.
Tachi stared at him, his lashes low over his eyes, and leaned in close. Xiao lavished that brief, questioning pulse of whether they would kiss or not. But then he couldn’t help himself and closed the distance between them first, his hand tangling in the back of Tachi’s head and pulling him close.
Tachi kissed with a flick of tongue as his hand kneaded Xiao’s side, coasting around to his front to pinch his stomach, eliciting a startled gasp from his lips.
"You need to eat more," Tachi whispered against Xiao’s ear, making hairs stand on end along the back of his neck.
"You do, too," Xiao said.
"Afraid there’s not much I can do about that," Tachi said. He let go and shot a glance down at Xiao’s lap. "Do you mind?"
Xiao hummed and stretched his legs out. Tachi slid down, the shingles grinding in protest against him, and settled his head on Xiao’s lap. Xiao stared down at the strands of hair that had fallen out of place with his moving and brushed them out of his eyes. In return, Tachi stretched a hand up and cupped his warm palm against Xiao’s cheek. Xiao closed his eyes and hummed.
"You know, ever since we returned from Snez, life has been so busy," Tachi said. "But it’s not a bad busy. It used to feel like such a chore to wake up each morning and run errands for Nahida. But so long as I wake up by your side, I feel like I can keep going."
"You really need to stop reading my mind," Xiao said. "I never thought I would be able to feel comfortable around other humans. But I am around you all the time, so I think I was worried for nothing."
"I can read your subtext," Tachi said with a smirk. "You’re so cute. I just want to bite your cheeks off."
"Don’t even try it," Xiao grumbled.
Tachi laughed. "I love you so much."
"I love you, too," Xiao said.
"You have this clarity in your eyes now, like I can always tell exactly what you’re thinking just by looking at you," Tachi said. "And your eyes tell me that you’re happy."
"You’ve been improving every day," Xiao said. "I feel like I’ve started to see who you really are with other people. You don’t treat me like the others."
"That’s because you’re my favorite," Tachi said.
Why had Xiao known he would say that?
"I know," Xiao said. He threaded his fingers through Tachi’s hair once more, staring into his eyes.
"What’s so funny?"
"Hm?"
"You look like you’re laughing," Tachi said.
"Do not worry about it. I just think you’re beautiful," Xiao said.
"I’m glad you think so," Tachi said.
He closed his eyes and puckered his lips. Xiao laughed, a full, loud sound, and leaned down to plant a kiss to the center of Tachi’s forehead.
No matter what happened, no matter where they went, he would always carry these memories with him. He would never be alone again, tearing through flesh and sin with nothing but his spear gripped in his hand. He had Tachi now, his sunlight, his warmth. With his long fingers and gentle words, his teas and tofu. A presence that could never do anything but bring a warm flutter to his heart.
Xiao cleared his throat when the first tear slid down his cheek and dropped onto Tachi’s face. Tachi flinched, his eyes popping open, before he exhaled and lifted a hand up to swipe the tear away.
"It’s okay," Tachi whispered, his hair splayed behind his head but still perfect. His hand stilled against Xiao’s cheek but still pulsing with life. "I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere."
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