I Think All Content Creators Can Relate To This.

I think all content creators can relate to this.

In my opinion, I don’t think followers really understand how much your requests/likes/reblogs/etc. and random asks mean to me. It’s just so refreshing and nice to know that people enjoy what I’m doing and support me.

People that go the extra mile and send an ask or message letting me know they liked my stuff honestly makes my day. I love reading tags and stuff…it’s honestly so cute….

And people who ask about how I’m doing or send me random questions or cute asks….I just want you guys to know it honestly makes my day. I just love all the interaction and such. It makes running a blog so much more enjoyable.

And Fanart/Fanwork? Honestly that’s one of the greatest things to receive. To everyone that draws or writes, please don’t feel too insecure to send it end! No one is going to criticize you over quality. It’s so sweet that you even thought about making something…I will always appreciate it no matter what, and I’m sure all other content creators feel the same.

So, in conclusion, don’t be afraid to talk to your favorite blogs and show them some love, guys! We always appreciate it! ☺️

The next best thing.

✿ Remember to read part one first!

❀ Prologue/summary: Desperate to get away from your memory of Scaramouche, you left in search of a new beginning. Can you really escape your past with him as easily as it is ideal?

❀ Pairing(s): Harbinger! Scaramouche x gn! reader

❀ Themes/warnings: Spoilers for Scaramouche’s backstory/main archon quest, mentions of violence, Angst.

❀ Doll’s note: Ahh hello! ( ･∀･)/ Sorry for the wait, but I’m really excited to finally present what I’ve been working on! Some of your replies gave me a good chuckle, they’re really motivating! But seriously, thank you<3

❀ word count: 2.2k

✿ masterlist (not yet posted) ✿ requested by: N/A, original concept

It’s been around a week since your last encounter with Scaramouche.

The plentiful amount of time to yourself has allowed you to reflect on all the poor decisions that led you to your current position. Love has truly made you lose sight of who you were and blinded you from your original motives. It was something that you, out of all people, could never have imagined falling victim to.

The passing fields you’re walking through were finally losing their familiarity, as the only thing pushing you to keep on moving is the wish to be somewhere far from a place that reminded you of your shared memories with him. Over time it has been cultivating many mixed emotions, which, although intense, you couldn’t quite identify as good or bad ones. All of it together was becoming incredibly frustrating because feeling so much emotion has always been foreign to you.

Despite your pitiful situation, the archons seemed to do their damn best to send even more troubles your way. You were just oh-so-lucky enough to receive your very own version of typical winter Inazuma weather on your way out, which was somehow even more unforgiving than usual.

Perhaps as a means to cope with your pain, you were slowly starting to grow numb to hurting. You quickly went from mourning over your loss to seeing red all around you. Every misfortune you experienced throughout your travels was his fault to begin with, it only made sense that the grief gradually seeped in as anger. It was all too overbearing, your sanity was merely hanging on by a thread.

“Mercy… please.. archons… save me….”

It only enraged you further to watch the treasure hoarder before you to plead for mercy after witnessing the brutal deaths of their comrades. He was just like you to Scaramouche, a pathetic resemblance of someone who thought they were special enough to be granted an exception.

When the glowing ashes of his corpse dissipated away, silence took over in your returning solitude. You thought your mind would finally be relieved of this frustration, for you to be finally feeling something else, anything else after murdering those pitiful people.

Why has it done absolutely nothing?

“I thought I heard people yelling here but I don’t seem to see anyone else, are you alright miss?” A male voice spoke out from behind you.

The man introduced himself as Tighnari, an Avidya Forest Watcher who was in the middle of a research report on the nearby area. The sudden realization that you’ve already made it to Sumeru makes you wonder how you even lasted so long without resting.

“It’s our responsibility to aid travelers in need.”

He smiled gently as he offered you a hand. You eyed his tall animal ears with a moment’s curiosity before getting up yourself, dusting off your clothes from the debris of your short-lived battle.

It took quite a bit of unwanted conversation to cover up your deeds, you didn’t want to stir up additional commotion to the situation at hand. Yes, treasure hoarders weren’t the best kind of people but that alone was no justification for being the subject of your wrath.

“I was.. just looking for something to eat.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, it’s been about three days since the time you last ate. Even so, that instance could barely even be referred to as a proper meal because berries aren’t considered the most satiating.

Tighnari took pity upon your weak appearance and offered to take you back to Gandharva Ville with him. Despite the fact that you didn’t want to follow him at first, you can only ignore your looming exhaustion so many times until your body eventually gives out. You might be tough, but still human nonetheless. With the help of his assistant, he provided you with medical supplies and dinner, which you hesitantly accepted.

The next two months went by rather slowly. You have begun to live amongst the rest of the people in Gandharva Ville along with Tighnari and Collei, as a forest ranger yourself. It wasn’t a job that made the most out of your vision potential, but you had nothing to use them for anyway. Your past with the Fatui and Scaramouche has been less insistent on plaguing your mind once you settled down in a new environment, it was a pleasant change of pace. Your heart was gathering up its pieces, yet the emptiness you’ve felt before has made its way back into your daily routine. This peaceful way of living would always be infinitely better than the mental torment that he would have put you through.

Anything would be better than that, right?

It wasn’t until you heard his name again, that you have managed to keep your emotions at bay.

The sages from the Akademiya have come to attempt to convince Tighnari to return to Sumeru city. The prestigious institution took notice of his exceptional intellect and thought of his current position as a waste of his talents as a scholar. It just seemed like a minor inconvenience at first, so you decided to tend to your assigned duties a little earlier.

Just as you were returning to deliver your updated report to Tighnari, the sages were on their way out. You were just about to dismiss their presence when you overheard a familiar name.

“Dr. Dottore needs us to go later tonight, to help with their project with the Balladeer.”

“His name was Scaramouche, right?”

Your report scattered all across the forest path, your trembling fingers unable to hold on to their delicate pages at what you just heard. You could feel your chest begin to heave rapidly as your mind became a jumbled mess. Everything to do with this man should have been behind you, never to reappear in your thoughts again, so why now?

Why?

Why, why, WHY?

You had to find out for what wretched reason the Akademiya was included in a scheme associating with such a painful part of your memory, so you abandoned your original plans to follow them back into the city.

It turns out that the sages have been working together with Dottore in the late stages of developing Scaramouche’s artificial god form. You didn’t know what your plan was before, but it was never your goal to come this close to actually encountering him.

…

You stepped into the forest cavern, right before where he is held from the information you collected. Do you really want to see him again? Why are you even here?

In spite of the voices in your head, his face etched itself into your mind. You were brimming with emotions, your weakness for the man never left you after all.

There wasn’t much logic left behind your thoughts, the only force driving your actions being an unreasonable craving. You revealed the hidden entrance by copying the procedure you witnessed Dotorre perform earlier, taking a final deep breath before crossing the threshold.

Your steps echoed throughout the large chambers of the Joururi Workshop, examining the large pieces of what you assumed were unfinished equipment in their creation of this “artificial god”. The Fatui really does work quickly, you’d at least have to give them credit for their efficiency.

“(y/n)?”

Your heart stopped the moment you heard your name, but not because of how it belonged to you.

“What are you doing here?”

You turned to face the black-haired harbinger, the one that you only ever allowed yourself to remember in your dreams.

He looked just as gorgeous as before.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash, the sound of thunder hitting the spot where you once were before your reflexes barely preserved your life.

“What a coward you are, showing up before I can even finish my project.”

You hid behind a pile of various mechanical materials, trying to process the fact that Scaramouche was now trying to kill you. It shouldn’t be the most surprising because of how you acted during your last meeting.

“I guess I should finally pay you back for being so disrespectful, hmm?”

Scaramouche’s laugh was dripping with poison, making your reality now clear.

You were just so sick of it all, you were never going to find peace with the presence of this awful man’s existence in Teyvat. Your suppressed feelings after so long, resurfaced as the same bloodlust you felt the day you met those poor treasure hoarders.

“I have been dying to see you, Scara.”

You approached him with a smile, the rest of the confrontation was merely a blur.

…

The sword that was given to you on the same day you joined the Fatui, was now pierced through your former superior’s chest. His eyes widened, unsure of how he had ended up being on the losing end of this exchange. After all, he never paid any attention to your abilities, if only he was as observant of you as you were of him back then. You knew of his every blind spot, every little weakness that bought you just an adequate amount of time to pin him right where you wanted him.

It was an extensive fight where you applied all those years of experience by his side, performing the final accumulation of your feelings as a rendezvous of death.

I have always been watching you.

You dug your blade further in, causing his legs to give out and collapse to the ground. It was far from what would kill him instantaneously due to his lack of a real heart, but enough to sufficiently incapacitate him.

I have always longed for you.

You kneeled next to him, watching his surprise twisting into rage. Shadows from his hair cast over his face as he gritted his teeth.

But I can’t have you.

“I was so close…”

So I’ll choose the next best thing.

His frame shook when his devastated eyes stared into yours.

“I WAS SO CLOSE DAMNIT, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN IT?”

He was lashing out at you now, upon the realization that his premature death would ultimately rip him away from what was about to be his godhood. He screamed hateful, terrible, words at you. Yet, you still pitied his helpless state.

He has never been kind to you, barely even grateful for anything you’ve ever managed to accomplish for him.. Yet there were moments when he appeared so lonely. He was like a lost soul craving for something beyond what he felt was even possible, hence his want to reshape a new world.

Tears were streaming down his face, his crying voice now barely above a whisper due to the spreading fatigue. You could tell he no longer had the energy to be angry, and gently held his hand in yours. He wept quietly on the floor, relishing in your comfort within his vulnerable state.

You were aware of the three betrayals that shaped Scaramouche into the bitter person he was. He suffered being the abandoned subject of his creator, being viewed as if his existence as a monstrosity by the only friend he’s ever made, and the loss of a child he’s come to care for after making unkept promises to one another. You didn’t want him to have nobody in his final moments, despite his flawed pessimism, and no matter how bad he used to treat you.

You both savored the stillness of the Joururi workshop’s solitude, that is until he was the one to break the silence, much to your surprise.

“..Why do you think my creator has yet to get rid of me, to allow me to wander as far out of her grasp as to even become a harbinger?”

He was now reflecting in deep thought, the focus of his gaze on the intricate ceiling of the domain. It’s like he read your mind.

“…My former friend might have been right, for me to have soon become someone who hurt the lives of so many.”

You didn’t expect him to ever find forgiveness, for him to finally realize that there is more to living creatures than just misery. The hopeful glint in his eyes vastly differed from the characteristics you’ve come to know rather well.

“…I suppose the boy’s mortality wasn’t necessarily his fault, it was cruel of me to shift the blame for my loss on him.”

He finished his declaration with a small sad chuckle, a genuine one.

“…hey.. (y/n).”

He called out to you, asking why you continue to remain by his side after his continuous exploitation of your feelings.

You explained to him that you cannot pick and choose what you feel. Why people care so much about seemingly unreasonable emotions was something you couldn’t comprehend either.

This was something only he has been able to have taught you for the first time in your life, but you kept that last part to yourself. His cold fingers gave yours a light squeeze, and your chest tightened at his melancholic expression.

“For my new understanding, I’m eternally grateful to you.”

His chest rose and fell slowly, his trembling gradually coming to a halt.Turns out your efforts have brought him peace, one that he was unable to achieve on his own.

“……Maybe things would be different for us if I was born human too.”

With those words, he used the last of his strength. You felt his hand loosen its grip on yours, as he succumbed to his rest. You’ve helped him move on from his past and achieve his true goal, to see a world that wasn’t just filled with deceit and lies. What a truly bittersweet way for your first love to come to an end.

..But what was in it for me?

A sob escaped your throat as you cradled his unconscious form, hushed cries escalating into painful wails that resounded in the large room.

You refused to leave his side for hours after, you weren’t ready to part with him just yet. Your reunion was so brief after all.

…

Small taps of footsteps were heard behind you as you came face-to-face with a little, white-haired girl.

“(y/n), right?”

@ 𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘳 | please credit if reposted! ♡

✿ Taglist: @smdroplvr @niasyndrome @shotgunsona @bananapowersrangers @ki–mi

476 notes View Post

xiaotopia

3 years ago

Vigil ✤ Kazuha

V i g i l

A/N: Here is the Kazuha angst, sweeties :')) I wrote this with my prepared angsty playlist hehe- I.. well, my heart cracked..

✤ She/her

Words: 3.9k

"Text in this format means dialogue in flashback!"

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

The memory of peering into the crib with excited blabbers remains fresh, untarnished with the passing of time.

It feels like it’s just yesterday when your mother reached for the wailing baby laying inside to hand him in your caring touch.

“This is your little brother, [Name].” you squealed when the boy clung unto your finger, “His name is Kazuha. Be a good sister for him, understand?”

“Yes!”

Ah, that did feel as if it was just yesterday.

“Nee-chan!”

Dropping the basket of laundry, you frantically looked around.

“Nee-chan!”

“Kazuha-!?”

He was sprinting, arms flailing as tears spilled past his eyes and panicked exclaims left his lips. His friend was chasing him from behind, laughing as he waved an undercooked fish—your brother’s worst nightmare.

Comedic but understandable.

“Tomo’s making me eat it!” your younger brother mumbled behind you, pointing accusingly towards his friend who sheepishly spluttered excuses at your stern gaze.

Taking the skewered fish in Tomo’s hands, you hummed, patting his and Kazuha’s heads.

“How about I cook something for the both of you, instead? How’s that sound?”

“Yes, please! Nee-chan’s cooking is the best!”

You can never get tired of cooking for the two of them, even if your sibling eventually asked to be taught, you find yourself still taking over cooking duty. Lovingly whipping up dishes is your forte.

It stuck around when the household eventually lost the attending servants following the fall of the Kaedehara clan. It even stuck through the grim times of your parents’ passing.

Kazuha had went through so much at a young age, changed little by little—and you aren’t oblivious to it. With his growth, you are a witness to his budding shell of maturity.

Single years fold into a decade and all of a sudden, the mirthful silverette who doesn’t last a day without calling you ‘big sister’ has grown up.

Far too quickly, to be honest, but who are you to hold him back?

“You don’t call me ‘nee-san’ nowadays,” you laugh jokingly, “My, you’ve grown so much, Kazu!”

He stares at the plates of food you set on the dining table, his sigh small and feeble as you continue gushing. Albeit he has a smile on his face, it appears tight. Forced.

But you turn a blind eye to that—you’ve always been doing it.

Now, however, it seems that your brother has grown tired of humoring you. It has been going on for too long.

“I’m not some child anymore..” his monotonous voice is so unlike him—it’s as if he no longer is the person you grew up with.

Having him address it bluntly prompts you to pause, the only sound being the sizzling of unagi meat, frying to perfection. The richness of its color, however, dulls when you process what your sibling has mentioned.

As if its vividness is an illusion meant to shield you from present-day reality.

Still, you shake it away, keeping the smile on your face as you set the fried meat on a new plate, turning to put it down on the table beside the other dishes.

“Oh, Ka-“ you stop, seeing the look in his eyes.

The way his carmine optics bore against your [c]s is foreign.

It’s scary.

It’s different. It’s new.

You sit down in front of him, trying not to show how restless you’ve become. Such an attempt is futile, of course, since you’re in front of the person you’ve been with for years.

“Kazu-“

Thud!

Silence zips your lips when he lays his chopsticks down. It isn’t by any means a slam—but someone like Kazuha doesn’t need to be outright with anything in order to express a negative opinion.

“So please refrain from initiating unnecessary coddling,” he cuts you off with a swivel as he leaves for the door. “I have grown up now, sister. I... need you less.”

What?

A multitude of emotions hit you at once, all coming from his sudden statement that feels like it can tear you apart. But oh—who were you kidding?

You know that this will eventually come.

The very day where he admits that he is capable of being alone. Without you.

The opening of the door causes you to stand from your chair, “Wait!”

He does as you said but doesn’t look back. His hand remains on the handle of the knob, unchanging of his decision to leave.

You tug the black and red scarf from your neck, inching close to the man so you can wrap it around his neck. “It’s cold outside.. won’t you at least eat something?”

It takes him a moment to respond—but his decision does not change.

He detangles the fabric on his neck and, without looking you in the eye, sets it in your hand, rejecting your offer.

“Later.”

And he’s gone.

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Nothing changed much after he left with that declaration.

Often times he still returns in the dead of night, a smile on his face. It will only ever droop when you come in the room greeting him a lovely evening, and he will sigh.

“I told you not to wait up for me.”

He will depart for his room before he can hear your explanation.

It leaves you hanging, hollow with bitter hope and refusal to believe that you both have reached that time in life where he doesn’t need you as much.

Each time he turns his back, you are filled to the brim with sorrow you didn’t know you’re capable of holding.

Retreating to the upper floor of your home, you will stay at the balcony sighing your concerns away to the stars. To the place where you believe your parents are staying, listening to your bouts of frustration and worry.

“Was I a good sibling for him, mother? Father?” you’ll sometimes mutter as you play with your silver locks, the only thing you share with your sibling other than the forgotten name of a once esteemed clan.

And as you vent all these to the stars, you remain oblivious to the lone figure hiding by the shadows in the adjacent room. His frown is tiny. Sad, but not guilty.

Kazuha will leave once again before he’ll hear his sister’s frustrated cries.

Sometimes, he will chew over it when he is wandering Inazuma—thinking, pondering if perhaps there could’ve been a way to say it without hurting his sibling. But as he contemplates over and over, he finds that there is no easy method to admitting the truth.

His friend Tomo, albeit not being told anything, is naturally cognizant of the things revolving around the silver-haired siblings. The older sister’s presence has been diminishing and he can count her appearances at Kazuha’s side getting less.

He has implied several times to make up with the female even if they had no outright argument, and when faced with a baffled question of ‘why’, Tomo only smiles.

“Because you’re family.”

So simple and yet—when Kazuha thinks of the matter a minute longer, the taste in his tongue becomes acrid.

“What upsets you?” his friend questions as he coos over his white feline, “You’re not the Kazuha who’s always crying for big sister, heh.”

The silverette cannot even find it within him to send a retort. His silence, to others, is a message that typifies a want to be alone—but to Tomo, who has known him since they’re both children, that silence is different.

With a hum, he stretches his limbs, yawning as his cat rolls around the grass.

“You know, [Name] won’t hate you for wanting it,” he starts, “You want to wander, don’t you? But you feel like you’re tied down. You’re grounded—because [Name] is here.”

Kazuha flinches and his friend snickers.

Spot on.

“I’m just going to repeat what I said because I meant it, Kazuha. Tell her the truth. She’s literally the most understanding person I know—it’s not like she’s going to despise you for wanting something.”

“… I’ll think about it.”

Tomo sighs. It’s not what I was hoping for but it’s a start.

Remembering something that moment, Tomo lets out a loud scream that nearly sent his friend toppling in the nearby stream of water. Kazuha looks on with slightly wide eyes as the other man jumps to his feet, violet eyes gleaming.

“Oh, right! I plan to initiate another challenge!”

Another challenge…

Kazuha closes his eyes with a hum, “I do hope you’ll last another. You’ve been faced with the worst of the worst.”

The chuckles that leave his friend’s lips are excited and sort of expectant.

“It’s going to be the ultimate one of all! So if you’ll excuse me~”

≿————- ❈ ————-≾

Perhaps a talk with your brother will do you both good.

You’ve both been acting like strangers walking on eggshells underneath the same house and it is driving you insane. He’s not even looking you in the eye anymore!

Given his quiet personality, confrontation will be difficult, but he’s a cooperative person. Besides, he always hears you out.

There isn’t any reason for him not to when he knows that this will be done only for the betterment of the future.

So, with a nervous disposition but eager heart to settle things right, you lift the basket from its place with plans to head over to the market. It’s an hour or two before dusk, just the perfect time to shop for dinner.

“Mm.. some dry-braised salted fish for tonight sounds lovely.” You muse, remembering how the dish is your brother’s favorite.

Ah, the number of tries he takes to perfect and stylish it into his own can’t be forgotten.

It doesn’t take too long to cook it, but you’ll be making tons of other side dishes and dessert, so it’s best to start early!

You exit the abode, the smile on your face present as ever even when you’re greeted outside by a couple of Shogunate Soldiers. Their features appear sterner, their hold on their naginata rock solid.

“Are you Kaedehara [Name]?”

Hm?

“Yes. Can I help you?”

The soldiers lunge forward, spears falling to a position pointing at you from all possible angles, cutting any means of escape as you furrow your brows. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Your brother has defied the Decree of the Shogun and was hereby declared a criminal. Going against an Imperial Decree results in punishment inclusive to his immediate family.”

Your basket falls to the ground.

Thud!

Kazuha’s feet create a loud sound following his landing, a breath of panic expelling past as he rushes away.

The warmth in his hand escalates to a scalding degree, burning and searing like the fading power of Electro held within the golden casing.

To think that that was what Tomo meant.. !

He does not feel anger, no, just the burn of desperation and want to hide his friend’s Vision because he doesn’t want it to be taken away—to be placed in that statue that displays the lost ambitions of many others.

He’ll be damned before the Shogunate can take it… !

The criminal evades those at his tail, making swift maneuvers on rooftops and alleys without a second thought. His limbs are answering his every command, be it to duck, to jump—or to even draw his blade.

He is still ways away from the port but getting there won’t prove to be too complex for someone like him. He’s cut down plenty of the samurai in his escape from Tenshukaku,

Tomo…

“You’re family. Tell her.”

Family—

“This is the first one in a long time I’ve heard of it being extended-! To whom again? The clan that has lost its prestige a decade ago, right?” he almost trips in his sprinting, darting to an alleyway so he can further eavesdrop.

Did I hear that correctly?

A relieved sigh escapes when those chasing him run past his hiding spot.

Sucking in his breath, the silverette tightens his grip on the faded Vision of his best friend as he listens in the hushed conversation.

“Be quiet!” someone hisses, “If someone overhears us, what next? Still, I do feel bad.. they lost so much already. I can’t believe they’d drag an innocent person into it, too..”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do. The Shogun issued the penalty to immediate families, right? As far as I know, there are only two Kaedeharas left—”

Kazuha feels his heart stopping. Kaede..hara?

There’s no mistaking it.

But why—?

Why would a punishment meant for him extend to her?

She’s innocent!

Going off-course, he sprints in the direction of his house. The house that he lives in with his sister who takes great care of him—the same sister he’s willing to leave in favor of chasing what he wants in life.

He’s willing to, but he doesn’t.

Because perhaps—perhaps if he stayed and buried his desire, then he will amount to the same greatness she has done for him. But he cannot stand it, either. As patient as he is, as kind and ‘gentle’, [Name] can always see through his face.

He’s always been antsy—always itching to wander and he’s stumped that his sister is well-aware of that fact. Still, she’s always playing the ignorant one, pretending not to care- still coddling him as if he’s little and he’s had… enough of it.

But now that the situation has pinned this misfortune upon them, the ronin realizes that she’s only pretending for his sake, as well.

“Cut that out, I don’t need it. I fear that.. you will only embarrass yourself.”

Wasn’t it him who refused to tell her of his want to roam free in the first place?

“I understand that I am your brother—but there is no need to worry over me all the time. I can look after myself, [Name]. Do worry about something else, instead.”

Wasn’t it him who stuck around, still?

The bitterness in his tongue increases with each leap of his feet. He doesn’t even process the race of his heart as he’s carried through the same path that leads him home. To his family—to his only sister.

Everything seems to pass by slowly, in a blur, like the specks that decorate his vision the more his mind throws stacks and stacks of memories. This is madness.

Complete and utter madness.

He rounds the corner to see the figure of his only sibling, her back turned to him—she cannot see him, but he can see the armed soldiers flanking around her.

His throat tightens and certainly, he wouldn’t have been able to utter a word due to how it feels like his throat has been crushed.

“[Name]!”

Yet, the furious scream that tears past his lips denies all kinds of ‘impossibility’ the instant he sees the female falling to the ground, the sight of red splatter making him draw his blade.

Whoosh!

The summoned wind is opposingly gentle to the brewing storm in someone’s beautiful carmine eyes.

“[Name]-.. !”

That voice.. Kazuha?

Sometimes, the depth of emotion in Kazuha’s eyes is too deep for you to understand. Despite being so silent, he’s so, so expressive with his stares.

That even when he isn’t trembling when he lifts your torso, you know how much he’s quaking from within.

“What are you.. doing here? You have to go,” you cough red when he adjusts you in his arms, the sight of the fallen soldiers reminding you of the situation at hand. “Quick—before they.. catch you.”

He shakes his head,

“I’m taking you with me, I have a boat prepared, come, let’s—”

“Don’t lie to me, Kazuha.”

He pauses, flitting his gaze down to meet yours. You hate how you can’t seem to focus on him, though. Your sight is blurring in and out, only providing small intervals of clarity where you can see the panic in his features.

A sight you didn’t think you’d see on him until now.

“I know you made it for yourself. You’ve been planning to leave home, weren’t you? I’m not..” you’re not oblivious to his wish, “I’m not mad. I was only holding you back, wasn’t I?”

He sucks in a breath.

“I-I-“

What was he supposed to say?

Weakly tapping his arm, you start taking quick breaths—just to take in all the air you can while tolerating the gaping wound from being impaled.

It hurts. You want to scream. It hurts.

But you don’t—because you do not want to appear weak to your brother.

You promised mother and father that you will not cry when faced with problems—he mustn’t see, Kazuha mustn’t see. But at this moment, you just want to break apart. Disbelief is kicking in, you can’t believe this is happening.

When—where did everything go wrong?

“Besides, I’m not of use to you anymore. As if I’ll last the journey to Liyue-“

“Don’t say that!”

You blink owlishly, gasping out in pain when his hand presses against your wound, futilely attempting to hold back the bleeding.

“K-Kazuha?”

Your own hand shakily plants itself atop his own, helping him press—as if his hand isn’t heavy enough to stop the flow—it down. It will hurt, but you can’t say for sure. You’ve already grown numb and your head is swimming.

Still, you focus on him.

Still, you help him apply pressure even if you know—even if he knows—that it’s too late.

“Don’t say that. You’ve..” his voice cracks, “You’ve done so much, [Name], you-“

You took over the clan household when our parents died. You struggled to make ends meet for both of us. And yet.. all I do.. all I do is… !

Kazuha angrily bites on his lip, his hold on his composure beginning to slip as his mind throws in a reel of olden days.

“I’m leaving, [Name]. Please don’t wait up, I may take longer.”

“I’m grateful, but I don’t need that anymore.”

“Stop that, already.”

He dips his head with a muffled cry. All I do is wander and desire for a future where I can roam freely. I haven’t even thought of you..!

“You’ve grown, Kazuha,” he snaps back into this harsh reality when he feels the hand atop his disappear, presently moving to brush his messy locks.

He doesn’t know why all of a sudden his sight is becoming misty, but perhaps—perhaps it is because he remembers when his sister used to brush his hair the same way with a loving smile.

It is the same touch he flees from nowadays.

The same touch now—the same loving smile.

“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right—you’ve grown so much.. and I’m still clinging onto the past.”

So lively, so beautiful and yet—

“You’re strong now..”

Yet it’s dying.

He presses harder on his sibling’s wound, almost sadistically—as if he’s hoping that it’ll ignite a painful reaction. “[Name], please, let me-“

Because if it hurt—then it means she’s still okay. She’s still responding.

“So capable.. so independent, you are.”

So why—? He almost chokes out a sob. Why are you not reacting to it!?

“Mother and father would be so proud of you. I am sorry if I was lacking in any way.”

“Please, [Name], you can’t do this.” He trembles, the composure he created so, so close to breaking as he gives up on endeavors that are pointless, to begin with. Instead, he tilts his head up, wishing to curse the heavens above.

For everything.

“I’m happy to be your sister, and.. I’m proud of you… Kazu..”

“Wait-“ he stumbles over his words, catching the falling hand of his sibling and registering how deathly pale she has gotten in a matter of seconds. “Wait, please—I-“

As much as he wants to voice out he’s sorry. For many things; for turning his back on her, for being distant when all they have is each other, he’s unable to find his voice when he sees the tears dripping out of his sister’s [c] eyes.

His strong older sister—weeping. It’s the first time he has seen her cry.

Her smile trembles—

“I love you. My nice.. little.. brother.”

—And her [c]s are then hidden forever.

The way she endearingly called him in her dying breath has him freezing, his heart pausing as if he had died along with her. But then the spark of pain welcomes him back to reality—to life.

And then he is leaning over her.

“[Name]..” breathless whispers escalate into panicked murmurs. “[Name]?”

His heart is pounding in his chest as he tries to shake her awake, like when he’d do when he’s eight and awake from an awful dream.

“Nee-san.. can I sleep by your side tonight?”

And although her [c] eyes are tired, she will still smile. “Okay.”

And she’d keep watch over him the whole night.

He’s reminded of it when he hopelessly shakes her awake, to no obvious avail. But he keeps grasping her arms, anyway, like he used to many years ago.

But things are different now.

“[Name]—[N-Name]!?”

He said it himself—he’s no longer a child.

“Please, don’t leave me- I- you’re all I have left!” The ronin’s composure finally breaks loose and his tears begin landing like a profuse waterfall. His uncontained sobs remain unheard.

This time, there is no one to wake him up from his nightmares.

“No—no, no- no, please..!” Kazuha weeps as he holds his sister’s cold hand, shakily pressing it to his forehead, imitating the sweet action she has always given him. A hand on his head, on his shoulder—or on his cheek if he’s tearful. “You can’t!”

She’ll tell him not to be sad because it’ll make her sad, too.

And he’ll hurriedly wipe his tears because ‘no! big sister mustn’t feel sad because of me!’.

Then [Name] will muster a smile as bright as the sun and hold his face in her warm hands, and press a kiss on his forehead. He’ll get red and thrash around, whining, ‘onee-san!’. And about how embarrassing it is so she mustn’t do it anymore.

Now, he is holding her hand in his own, trying to remember the same warmth it emitted just a day ago. Just a few hours ago. How long has it been?

And when he doesn’t feel the warmth—when he doesn’t remember the warmth, when all he feels is the cold and the obvious lack of love, Kazuha breaks apart.

His heart squeezes and his tears spill more, his lips parting to release the honorific he has dropped a long, long time ago. “Nee-san!”

“You don’t call me ‘nee-san’ nowadays,”

“Onee-san!”

“My, you’ve grown so much, Kazu!”

“Onee-san!”

I’m calling you. He cries, like a picture of misery. So why aren’t you waking up? Sister! He cries, like a heartbroken child.

The winds around him pick up, warning him of incoming men sent to apprehend and penalize him the same way they did to his sibling. It’s suffocating—maddening, even, and he wants to tear them all down himself.

But [Name] wouldn’t like that.

So, with a muted cry and bolster of willpower, he tears himself from the body of his kin, trembling.

He can hear the thundering steps of the samurai as he hurries to untangle the same black and red scarf [Name] has once attempted to give him. The same fabric he has rejected.

“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry.” he hugs her with all his might, with his soul, and with his heart before he’s back up on his feet and running. I love you, too, nee-san.

“Get him!” someone roars from behind.

And although he wishes to turn and slice them away, he couldn’t—because he’d be seeing the fallen figure of the same person he had neglected to cherish. So, instead, he nestles the scarf around his neck whilst clutching onto the Vision of his friend.

Down the path, he runs.

Years ago, he will be accompanied by the people he loves, chasing a faraway future.

Now he is running on the same path alone, running after a dream that can now be turned into reality.

Far from Inazuma.

Far from home.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

a/n: did it hurt-

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　Return to the Scrying Glass　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

≿————-　taglist　————-≾

@lehra @melkxsh

1K notes View Post

xiaotopia

4 years ago

Chicken Mushroom Skewers

Ingredients

2 large chicken breasts, cut into large chunks

12 oz small mushrooms, such as baby bella

1/4 cup soy sauce

1/2 cup bbq sauce

1/4 cup sake or mirin

1 tsp ground ginger

1 tbs ground garlic

Pour all ingredients except chicken and mushrooms into a pot with 1/2 cup water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium and simmer for 20 minutes

Put chicken and mushrooms into a container. Pour liquid over chicken and mushrooms, marinate overnight

Slide chicken and mushrooms onto skewers. Alternate between chunks of chicken and mushrooms, be sure not to load too much onto one skewer, 4-5 pieces of chicken for a large skewer is ideal.

Pour leftover liquid into a pot and bring back to a boil, you can add 1/3 cup BBQ sauce if desired. Reduce heat to medium and summer until thickened, about 20-30 minutes.

Brush sauce mixture over one side of skewers, broil at 500 degrees F (260 degrees C) for 8 minutes

Flip skewers, brush the other side, and broil for an additional 8 minutes

This dish goes great with some rice

217 notes View Post

xiaotopia

4 years ago

the idea of being married is so weird like what if I’m having a sad moment late at night and I wanna cry in bed and then there’s just some guy there??

81K notes View Post

xiaotopia

4 years ago