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razzle-zazzle · 9 months ago

Text

6561 Words; Between AU, TBT, JD's arrival

AO3 ver

“All right, Rhonda, we’re here.”

John Dory stepped away from the wheel as his armadillo-bus and main companion came to a stop at the edge of what he really hoped was the main settlement of the Pop Trolls. With a grunt, John Dory opened the door and hopped out, giving Rhonda’s side a small pat before heading towards where the pods were thickest.

It had taken him weeks to properly track this place down, and even longer to actually work up the courage to visit. If it wasn’t for Floyd’s letter, John Dory probably would have kept traveling for years, only ever thinking about Pop Village—or was it Trollstopia?—as a place on his map he could visit someday.

But now John Dory was here on a mission. He had a brother to save, and to do that, he’d need to track down all the rest of his brothers. Might as well start with the easiest—all he had from Spruce were unmarked postcards, he’d heard nothing from Clay at all, and Floyd was the brother in need of rescuing. Which left Bitty B, who up until a few months ago John Dory had been pretty sure was dead—but now wasn’t the time to think about that. John Dory had a baby brother to find.

As he made his way past pods and Trolls, tail nervously lashing behind him, John Dory took in the sights and sounds of a place that was all too familiar and all too alien all at once. It brought him back to his days in the tree, even though the community here was much more spread out. And it wasn’t just pods—John Dory could see all kinds of Trolls walking about, could see Country housing and Funk spaceships and even lights coming from within the larger bodies of water scattered about. And ooo, there were even Rock and Classical! Not exactly John Dory’s style, as a Pop Troll through and through, but it wasn’t as unsettling to see as John Dory had feared.

John Dory came to a stop before a large mushroom serving as a central pavilion, looking around. How in the world was he going to find Bitty B from here? He supposed he could ask around, use his natural charms to get the answers he needed, but… there were so many Trolls, all around, so much color and life and music going on that John Dory wanted to retreat back to the calm of Rhonda.

John Dory shook his head, dispelling his anxieties. What was he thinking? He had this in the bag! He used to be the leader of Brozone, of course he could handle a crowd.

With a laugh, John Dory launched himself up onto the mushroom, opening his mouth to start calling out for his brother—

“Oh, you’re new!” Pink filled his vision, darting in and out of his line of sight as an excited blur circled around and looked him over. “I’ve never seen you before, which is weird because I thought I knew everybody who lived here! Which means you must be new which means we haven’t gotten to know each other yet which means we get to get to know each other and become friends if you’re okay with that and oh my hair I forgot to ask your name!” None of the words were registering, coming out so fast that they all blurred together into an aural sludge that went right in one ear and out the other.

John Dory reflexively stepped back from the deluge of sheer energy coming off of what resolved itself to be a Troll, bright pink and bouncing excitedly. Her tail was whipping back and forth with a frenetic energy as she bounced in place, holding out her paw.

“I’m Poppy!” Poppy introduced herself. “And you are?” There was something so bright in her eyes, an energy that John Dory could only remember seeing in the happiest of Pop Trolls. Wow, he really had been on his own for a while, hadn’t he?

John Dory held out his paw to return the pawshake, but the moment he opened his mouth Poppy squealed again as recognition hit her, her eyes alight with vicious glee.

“Oh! My! HAIR! You’re from—you’re from BROZONE!” Poppy squealed again, clasping her paws together in excitement. “Oooo, but which one?” She pondered, leaning in to examine John Dory more closely. “No, don’t tell me! I wanna guess!” She hummed contemplatively, walking a slow circle around John Dory.

“You’re not the Heartthrob,” Poppy commented, the words hitting harder than John Dory was expecting. He could be a heartthrob! “The Fun Boy? No, you seem kinda uptight…”

“Weird thing to say about someone you just met,” John Dory commented, but Poppy continued to theorize.

“Definitely not the Sensitive One…” Poppy’s face lit up, “Oh, I know!” She cheered, certainty in her voice. “You’re John Dory!”

John Dory nodded. “The Leader—”

“The Old One!” Poppy finished, hopping up and down in place. Her paws were clasped together in excitement. “So what brings you to Trollstopia?”

John Dory’s tail was flat against the floor. Sure, he was in his forties, but barely! He wasn’t old! He still had so many decades left in him! He was in his prime!

“I’m here to find my brothers.” He said. “It’s…” Did he want to confide in Poppy about Floyd’s imprisonment? She certainly felt trustworthy, but this was more of a family issue.

“You brothers… the rest of Brozone?!” Poppy lit up, grabbing John Dory’s paw in her own to drag him from the mushroom pavilion. “Well, you’re asking the right Troll! I know everyone here!” She ran along, leaving John Dory little choice but to be dragged in her wake.

“Wait.” She came to an abrupt halt, “I don’t…” Her demeanor turned sheepish as she turned back to John Dory. “I don’t know anyone by the names of Spruce, Clay, Floyd, or Bitty B.” She admitted.

Well, that was a bust. John Dory shrugged. “‘S okay.” He nodded, stretching his arms up above his head. “I already know that Spruce isn’t here, and I know where Floyd is.” Something about Poppy’s words hit him, and he frowned. “You said Bitty B.” He pointed out. “But… would you happen to know a Troll who goes by Branch?” They had never used Bitty B’s full name in promotional material—he was just a baby, after all. It was safer that way.

“Branch…” Poppy’s face lit up with recognition. “I do!” She leapt up, “He never told me he had other brothers!” She gasped, “HE NEVER TOLD ME HE WAS IN BROZONE! Ohhh, I can’t believe this!” She ran in a tiny circle, tail waving wildly as she gestured with her paws.

“So you know where I can find him?” Oh, thank Troll. Now all John Dory needed was to find Bitty B’s pod, say hello to Grandma, and then they’d set out to find the rest. Easy.

Poppy nodded. “Yep!” She grabbed John Dory’s paw again. “It’s a few days’ travel by critterbug, though. Or just one day if I can get a caterbus…” Her tail flicked as she considered the options. John Dory swore he even heard her mutter about wormholes at one point.

“That’s… far.” John Dory frowned. He thought Bitty B would be living with the rest of the Pop Trolls, here in Trollstopia, not… wherever he was.

“I know the way, though.” Poppy assured him. “Just give me a little bit to get some things in order, and I can get you there!” Her tail curled behind her as she turned—

John Dory grabbed Poppy’s tail just below the hair. She froze, and he hurriedly let go. “No, wait, you said a few days by critterbug, right?” He laced his hands together and stretched his arms out in front of him, tail stretching behind him. “Rhonda could probably cover the same distance in an hour or two, tops.” Really, all he needed was the destination. He appreciated Poppy’s offer to come with, but, well—it was a family matter.

But Poppy kept following along as John Dory made his way back to his armadillo-bus. “Rhonda? Who’s that?”

John Dory picked up the pace. Poppy kept up easily.

“She must be really fast…” Poppy was theorizing, tapping her chin as she skipped along. “Oh! I bet she’s a bird, right? Birds can cover big distances fast!”

John Dory chuckled as he came to a stop. “Not quite.” He gestured to the armadillo-bus in question, patiently waiting in the underbrush. His most trusted companion, means of getting around, and beloved home: Rhonda.

Poppy squealed, bouncing over to Rhonda in excited delight. Her enthusiasm was infectious; John Dory couldn’t help the chuckle building in his throat as Rhonda greeted Poppy back with similar enthusiasm.

“Whoa!” John Dory called out, as Poppy made her way over to Rhonda’s door. “I appreciate the help, but you don’t need to come with.” It was a family matter, after all—

“Eh, I’ve been meaning to visit Branch again soon.” Poppy waved off. She paused. “But if you really don’t want me coming with—”

John Dory shrugged, and hopped up into Rhonda. “If you really want to.” He had the feeling he wouldn’t be able to stop Poppy, if she really put her mind to accompanying him. He’d only known her for half an hour at most, and she was already rocketing up his regard through her sheer energy and excitement. So John Dory shrugged, happy to have some company for once.

“Alright, Popster.” He sat down in the driver’s seat as Rhonda started to move, “Get me to Branch.”

+=+=+=+=+

Poppy’s enthusiasm, John Dory was finding, was infectious. Maybe it was the Pop Troll in him, maybe Poppy really did have so much energy that she couldn’t help spreading it everywhere—either way, John Dory couldn’t resist the amusement starting to dance in his chest as she took the wheel, going on and on about the adventures she had had with Branch. She had mostly focused on the Rockpocalypse, as that was where most of John Dory’s questions focused on—but even then she had a lot to say.

John Dory wondered how Poppy and Bitty B knew each other. They must be childhood friends, he figured, with how well they worked together in Poppy’s retelling. Maybe they were even closer—would John Dory find himself with a little sister in Poppy, someday? He sure hoped so—Poppy was a delight.

“So why’re you looking for Branch, anyway?” Poppy asked, as Rhonda made her way from the underbrush to a dirt path.

“Well, I’m looking for all my brothers,” John Dory began. “Because Floyd is in trouble.” He didn’t know if he should say more—he’d rather be telling all of this to Bitty B, if only so he wouldn’t have to tell the story more than needed.

“So you’re getting the band back together to rescue him?” Poppy asked, paw pressed to her face. “Aww, that’s so sweet! And exciting!” She smiled, big and bright. “I know I’m not really family, but if you need any help then you can count on me!”

John Dory chuckled. “Just helping me find Branch is more than enough.” He really wanted to show her the baby pictures—but Poppy was busy driving, directing Rhonda in following the trail as it shifted from dirt to cobbled stones. Rhonda jolted slightly at the terrain shift, but quickly adapted, following Poppy’s driving even as the surrounding forest thinned out to a yellowed field.

John Dory looked out the windshield, watching as the field gave way to an imposing metal fence, far too large to have been made by Trolls. There was something familiar about the looming structures, some distinct feeling of foreboding beginning to curdle in John Dory’s gut.

At once, recognition hit John Dory like a bucket of ice. “This is—this is Bergentown.” He nearly growled, his knuckles paling as he gripped the back of the seat. He leaned forwards to correct the course, or to demand to know what was going on—

“Yeah.” Poppy agreed, her voice firm and quiet. It was such a change from her sugary energy that John Dory hesitated, and she turned to him, expression gentle. “I guess I should have thought about how scary that’d be…” She shook her head. “But we made peace with the Bergens more than a year ago. And I promised I’d get you to Branch.” She urged Rhonda forwards, the armadillo-bus weaving around the streets under her direction. “I just need you to trust me for a little bit longer, okay?”

“I…” John Dory looked out the windshield, fighting down the urge to haul the young Troll from the driver’s seat and turn Rhonda around. He could see Bergens out and about on the streets, looking content—no, happy. That… John Dory’s intuition really didn’t like that. The last time he’d been here, it had been to find the tree withered and empty and the few Bergens he could spot looking absolutely miserable. It didn’t matter what Poppy said—if Bergens were walking around with uplifted spirits, then Trolls were clearly back on the menu.

But Poppy pulled Rhonda up to the central plaza with nary a care in the world, and none of the Bergens harassed or otherwise waylaid the armadillo-bus as she picked her way through the town. As Rhonda came to a halt in the grass, John Dory finally took in the state of what had been his home for the first twenty years of his life.

The cage was gone, and the tree looked even more colorful than John Dory remembered it. He could still see blackened bits on the trunk and branches, and some of the pods were as dull as last he’d seen them, but—

There were Trolls happily going about their business. As Poppy slipped out the side door, John Dory watched as the nearby Trolls noticed her, and started to rush over.

Slowly, goggles firmly over his eyes, John Dory exited Rhonda, keeping his back to her side as he shuffled as far away from the safety she represented as he dared. He could make out the conversation going on towards the base of the tree, and that was enough—if things got ugly, he could probably snag Poppy with his hair from here.

“Well, Branch did make his usual rounds this morning.” A green Troll with pink hair was saying, Poppy listening with rapt attention. “But he left a while ago.” They shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, I can’t tell you more than that.”

“Oh, no problems!” Poppy waved off. “Thanks for the help!” She bounced back over to John Dory and Rhonda, a pep in her step despite the fact that they were still in Bergentown. She slowed down as she came close, holding her paw to her face contemplatively.

“Hmmm, where would Branch be at this time of day? He’s got a pretty set schedule, but with his brother’s wedding coming up…” Her voice dissolved off into mutterings, but John Dory’s brain snagged on the words “brother” and “wedding” and everything after that failed to register.

“Wedding?” He grabbed Poppy by the shoulders. “Clay’s here, too?” He couldn’t possibly imagine Clay of all people getting married—but when he knew that Spruce was elsewhere and Floyd was being held captive, there was only one brother left.

Poppy’s face scrunched in confusion. “...Clay?” Her voice was void of any recognition, then she snapped her fingers. “Oh, right, you mean Brozone Clay!” She shook her head, already skipping off to Rhonda. “No, it’s not him—before you showed up, I didn’t even know that Branch had older brothers!”

John Dory followed Poppy back into Rhonda, his head spinning. “But you said brother?” He pushed his goggles back up, forehead creasing as he tried to work out what the hair Poppy meant.

“His younger brother, duh!” Poppy waved off, already directing Rhonda away from the tree. She said it so casually, like it wasn’t the most out-of-pocket statement John Dory had ever heard. And he was quickly approaching forty-three—he’d heard a lot of insane shit.

“Younger—” John Dory was right up next to the wheel, now, not even caring that Poppy was directing Rhonda down streets alongside Bergens like it was nothing. “Explain?” Mom and Dad were both out of the picture before Branch’s egg even hatched—how in the name of all that was Trolly would Branch ever have a younger brother? It made no sense.

“Well, Gristle and Branch are adoptive brothers,” Poppy clarified, “But that still counts! They pretty much grew up together, from what I know.” She brought Rhonda to a stop, completely oblivious to the fact that she had just brought John Dory’s world to a screeching halt. It hit John Dory like a sack of bricks, how long he had really been gone—Bitty B had found himself a family. Branch had found himself a family, and John Dory had no idea.

With a start, John Dory realized that Poppy had already exited Rhonda, the door flipping shut behind her and leaving him all alone. And while he certainly felt safe inside his dearest companion, John Dory didn’t fancy letting sweet young Poppy walk around Bergentown alone.

Yeah, that was it. That he was barrelling out of Rhonda to catch up with Poppy was purely over concerns about her safety, and not at all because he felt unsafe. Not at all.

Poppy had parked Rhonda near a nondescript… boutique? And had already slipped in through a Troll-sized cutout in the door proper. With a deep breath, John Dory pushed his goggles back down over his eyes, and followed.

Inside, he looked around—there! Poppy had made her way up onto a clothing rack, walking along a strip of metal wide enough for three Trolls. She was face to face with—John Dory stopped in his tracks, deciding to come up to the top of the rack through the clothes. He did not fancy being the subject of a Bergen’s attention! As he slowly made his way up, he caught the conversation Poppy was having with—with the Bergen—

Ohhhhh, John Dory did not like this, nor what it might imply about his baby brother.

“The wedding’s not for four more days.” The Bergen commented, as John Dory finally hauled himself up onto one of the clothing hangers. “Did Bridget need help with some last-minute planning?”

Okay, John Dory was officially lost. Just what had happened in the time he’d been gone? It had only been twelve years since he last came to Bergentown!

“Oh, no, nothing like that.” Poppy waved off. “I just wanted to visit Branch, that’s all.” Her tail flirted back and forth as she spoke, not an ounce of fear in her body despite how close she was to the Bergen’s massive teeth. John Dory only found himself growing more concerned about the safety of his people—was Poppy simply insane?

The Bergen chuckled, a low rumble that had John Dory discovering he could tense up even further. “I see.” She commented. “Well, I couldn’t say for sure where he is right now,” She held a massive claw up to her chin as she hummed contemplatively. “You know how he gets when he’s stressed; always finding more work to do and people to yell at.”

Poppy nodded, looking contemplative. “Well, thanks for the help anyway, Bernice.” She turned to where John Dory was balanced on a hanger, tail curled around the metal, but not before waving to the Bergen one last time. “See you at the wedding!”

The Bergen—Bernice? Bernice?—smiled, shaking her head. “Always nice to see you, Poppy!”

John Dory let Poppy take him by the paw and lead him out of the boutique and back to Rhonda. If his head was spinning before, it barely even felt attached now. Was this a fever dream? Oh, god, he must have taken a wrong turn on his way to Pop Village and crashed Rhonda, and all of this was just some weird coma dream his brain had come up with to torment him—

“Right!” Poppy was saying, as Rhonda got up and ready to move again. “We’ll check the castle next, I think—and if he’s not there, we start looking for King Gristle.” With that decided, she directed towards Rhonda towards the castle in question.

John Dory didn’t even have words with which to protest, at this point. With a resigned sigh, he watched as Poppy guided Rhonda up the steps of the castle. His nerves were shot, every fiber of his being frayed with anxiety, but there was no persuading Poppy to turn back. There was little he could do at this point but let Poppy lead him around, Rhonda coasting down the halls easily. John Dory’s thoughts turned inwards, following the same cycle of fear and self-loathing that he’d been avoiding for decades, and it kept coming back to one thought:

Just what had happened to Bitty B in his absence? Living in Bergentown? It had to—it had to have been something recent—Poppy had mentioned making peace with the Bergens, after all, and that must be when Bitty B took up residence in this wretched place, but—

But why? John Dory still wasn’t clear on how, exactly, peace could exist between Trolls and a species hellbent on eating them all. With the way the Bergens he had seen today carried themselves, there was no doubt in his mind that Trolls were on the menu—was it some kind of deal, some kind of willing sacrifice on the Trolls’ part in order to appease the Bergens? But that made no sense, who in their right minds would ever—

Rhonda came to a stop, and John Dory followed as Poppy disembarked. His goggles were still firmly over his eyes, and he had no intentions of removing them. So Bitty B had moved to Bergentown—overseeing the peace, maybe? Sacrificing himself in place of some other Troll?

John Dory shook his head as he followed Poppy in using his hair to launch himself up the wall. No, he refused to think about that. Poppy said Bitty B was okay, and John Dory had agreed to trust her. Maybe her definition of okay was different—

No. John Dory followed Poppy along what could only be described as a path along the wall, perfectly sized for Trolls to run along. He was not going to think about that. Floyd’s life was still on the line—John Dory could figure out what the hair was going on with Bergentown once he had all his brothers back.

Rhonda followed along as the pair made their way through the halls, seemingly unbothered by the occasional Bergen that passed through the halls. The Bergens in question all seemed to recognize Poppy, and she returned their greetings in kind.

Just as John Dory was sure he would implode—

“BRANCH!” Poppy took off along the pathway with a speed that made John Dory’s knees ache just watching, her tail whipping behind her as she bounded over to a Troll a short distance away. The Troll in question turned from the pair of half-sized Bergens he had been talking to, processed the pink blur that was barreling at him, and yelped as Poppy knocked him over with the force of her hug.

“Queen Poppy!” The Troll—Branch, John Dory realized, those blue eyes unmistakable—wheezed, prying himself from Poppy’s grasp. He hurriedly straightened his cape before bowing, silver crown glinting in the light. “I didn’t know you were visiting today.”

The Bergen with the gold crown and red cape smiled similarly. “Hey Poppy.”

Poppy turned to the Bergen and waved. “Hey Gristle! Good to see you!” She and the other Bergen launched into a much more energetic greeting, trading nicknames back and forth. But John Dory wasn’t paying attention to that anymore, pushing his goggles back up to fully drink in the sight of his baby brother. There he was, standing tall and proud, watching Poppy fondly…

A rush of pride crashed into John Dory’s chest. He rushed forwards, shoving his still-frayed nerves to the side. “BABY BRANCH!” His brother! His baby brother! Little Bitty B!

Branch yelped as John Dory scooped him up—or rather, as John Dory tried to scoop Branch up. “Ohhhhh you’ve grown—wow! Charlie horse!”

“Put me down!” Branch kicked and flailed until, gracelessly, the both of them tumbled to the floor. John Dory was slower to get up, joints creaking with the motion. Branch was already brushing off his cape and fussing with his crown, his face a mix between annoyance and something John Dory couldn’t decipher.

The crowned Bergen—Gristle, Poppy had called him—sidled over to look up towards Poppy. “Should I leave…?”

The other Bergen—Bridget? Was that what John Dory had heard her called? Why was he bothering to remember Bergen names—shook her head. “I wanna see where this goes, babe.”

“Who—” Branch backed away, face scrunching in what might have been recognition. “Oh. You.” Not the enthusiastic greeting John Dory imagined, but that didn’t stop him in the slightest.

“Branch, c’mon,” John Dory urged, “It’s me! John Dory! Your brother!” He stepped forwards, but Branch only narrowed his eyes and stepped back.

“Brother—” Gristle gasped, leaning forwards. Bridget had a hand over her mouth, eyes alight with curious excitement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Branch sniffed, arms crossed. “I have a brother, and he’s right there.” He nodded his head towards Gristle, who nodded in satisfaction.

John Dory wanted to scream. The Bergen? The Bergen was Branch’s brother? Branch had—but—

“So you weren’t in Brozone?” Poppy asked, tail starting to droop.

“Of course he was!” John Dory interjected. Okay, so he’d been thrown for a solid loop, real funny. But he was on a mission, dammit! He turned his attention back onto Branch, “You were Bitty B!”

“Brozone?” Gristle asked, peering at Branch suspiciously.

Poppy gasped. “You don’t know about Brozone?” She bounced in place, flapping her paws. “Brozone was only the boyband, like, ever! Even now their music is super popular, and the band broke up before I was even born!” She turned her attention onto Branch, almost launching herself at him in her fervor. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that you were in BROZONE?!”

As Branch hurriedly tried to fend off Poppy’s excitement, Gristle and Bridget turned their attention onto Branch. “You were in a band?” Gristle asked, voice tinted with incredulity.

“I can kinda see it.” Bridget commented, squinting. “It would have been during your years in the Troll Tree, right? Before the Great Escape.” She leaned in a little further, brow drawn in contemplation. “You do kinda look like you’d be related to them.”

Everyone looked at Bridget in surprise. “What?” She shrugged. “I pay attention when Poppy and I share music and hot goss. She got ‘Baby Baby Girl’ stuck in my head for weeks.”

“I dunno,” Gristle interjected, turning his scrutiny to Branch. “Were you really in a band as a baby?”

“Barely.” Branch snorted. “It was only a few songs and one live show.” There was something bitter in his tone, some hidden accusation that flew over John Dory’s head entirely.

“So you were Bitty B!” Poppy confirmed, grabbing Branch by the shoulders. “Oh my Troll!! You can’t just—I can’t believe you never told me!”

“We’ve only known each other for a year…” Branch commented quietly. He turned to John Dory, back on the defensive. “Why are you even here? No, wait—” He pressed his paws to his temples with a groan. “You’re here because you need something, aren’t you?”

“I do need something.” John Dory nodded.

Branch groaned. “Of course you are.”

Unfazed, John Dory barreled on. “It’s about Floyd.” He continued, letting his words spill out. The letter, the trip into Mount Rageous, the state of their brother in that awful diamond prison—it all spilled out in a rush before John Dory was fully processing each word. The more he spoke, the less his nerves about being right next to a pair of Bergens ebbed away, until his mind was lost in the task set before him.

By the time he finished, Poppy’s expression was one of quiet horror, her paws over her mouth. Even Gristle and Bridget looked upset, and Branch—

Branch’s expression was unreadable, his paws clenching and unclenching rhythmically. There was something stormy in those blue eyes, some deep reminder of the years spent apart.

“And why do you need me?” Branch asked.

John Dory almost laughed. What a silly question! “If we’re gonna pull off the Perfect Family Harmony, we’ll need to get the whole band back together. And since Floyd is trapped in a diamond prison, the only way to save him is with the Perfect Family Harmony.” He frowned at Branch. “It’s not complicated, Bitty B.”

“Yeah!” Poppy added. “You’ll get to see your brothers again! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Not a chance.”

John Dory stumbled back at Branch’s words. “What?” That… there must be something wrong with his ears. He must have misheard. There was no way that Bitty B would—

“You heard me.” Branch’s voice was eerily calm, almost detached.

A growl started to build in John Dory’s throat. “Bitty B—”

“Don’t call me that.” Branch snapped. He stepped forwards, “You leave me behind for more than two decades, without a single note, and then when you return you expect me to just act like nothing happened?” Branch’s voice rose in pitch with his incredulity, his paws gesturing wildly as he spoke. “I have a kingdom to help run, my brother’s wedding is in four days, and you want me to toss that all aside to go on an adventure for some Trolls I barely know?” He leaned forwards, teeth bared in a snarl. “Not. A. Chance.”

John Dory gasped, affronted. Yeah, okay, so he’d been gone a while. But he was back! And Floyd was in danger! What in the world was Branch thinking?

“He’s your brother!” Poppy protested, dragging Branch several paces down the path. “You of all people should get how important that is, Branch. I mean, if Cooper, the best little brother in the whole world—no offense, Gristle—”

“Some offense taken.” Gristle responded, though he was smiling.

“—was the one in danger, I would stop at nothing to help him. “ Poppy continued. “And I know you’d do the same for Gristle.”

“Poppy.” Branch held up a paw, putting a pause on her impassioned speech. “I see where you’re coming from. Really, I do. But…” He sighed, heavy and tired, dragging a paw down his face. “All of my brothers left when I was two. Not once, in the near twenty-three years that they’ve been gone, have I so much as received the slightest indication that they’re even alive.”

“But they’re here now…” Poppy started. “At least, John Dory is.”

Branch shook his head. “That’s not the point.” He said. “The point is that I don’t know them. They were in my life for the first two years and then they were gone.” He glanced past Poppy to where John Dory was trying not to watch too obviously, several paces away and close to the wall. “Twenty-three years, Poppy. Anyone can become a totally new person in less than half that.” He shrugged, turning his gaze away to a particularly interesting torch-holder across the hall. “I’m not risking my neck for a couple of strangers, Poppy. Not when there’s so much already on my plate.”

“But—” Poppy started, “They’re your brothers.”

“No, they’re not.” Branch’s voice rose as he spoke, and he breathed deeply, paws clenching and unclenching.

Poppy gasped. “That’s not how blood works, Branch!”

“Blood isn’t everything, Queen Poppy.” Branch murmured. He turned away fully, idly waving a paw as he spoke. “You and your… guest have full access to the castle, as usual. I have business to attend to in the Eastern Quarter.” And with that, he walked away, cape swinging slowly with each step.

John Dory stepped forwards, paws clenching into fists. “Branch—” He stopped, staring down at the bright pink paw thrown out in front of him.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Gristle sighed, turning to follow after Branch.

The two of them turned the corner, Gristle’s exasperated exclamation quickly fading as they went out of hearing range. John Dory watched the two of them go numbly, barely even aware of Poppy and Bridget talking to each other.

This was supposed to be so simple. Branch was supposed to be the easiest brother to find and pick up. Just go to Pop Village and find Bitty B. Simple. Easy. The perfect way to start the onerous task of bringing them all together for Floyd.

How had it gone so wrong?

+=+=+=+=+

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Branch picked up the pace, his shoulders hunching as he ignored Gristle’s question. Anger buzzed in his veins while new worries joined the constant flow of concerns in his mind, his paws clenching and unclenching as he walked towards the castle doors. Branch really did have business to attend to out in town; he hadn’t been lying about that. There was always something that needed to be done, as Prince of Bergentown.

“Hey!” And there was Branch’s big-little brother, matching pace with him easily. “I know you can hear me!”

Branch broke out into a run. Undignified? Yeah. Obvious? That too. But Branch didn’t care. He couldn’t let himself care—there were too many other things he needed to care and worry and think about, he didn’t have the time or energy for this—

“Are you…” Gristle panted, still keeping pace with Branch. “Are you just going to keep running? You’ll run out of castle, dude.”

Branch slowed down, if only so he could properly glare at his obnoxious big-little brother. “Shut up.” As far as retorts went, it wasn’t his best—but what else was he supposed to do? Pull a witty comment from his ass?

Gristle rolled his eyes. “Real clever.” The two of them came to a halt—there was no point in running around; Branch wasn’t going to shake Gristle. “But really, Branch, what’s going on with you?”

Branch crossed his arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He huffed, turning his head to the side.

Gristle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Berg give me patience…” He muttered. Why was dealing with Branch in a mood always worse than trimming claws?

“When Dad died,” Gristle started, “When his body was falling apart from illness…” He had to pause, here, the memory heavy on his shoulders. “He was suffering, right there in front of me, and I was helpless to do anything about it.” His hands trembled, gaze firmly locked on the floor.

“Your point being?” Branch refused to be swayed by a sob story. He was as much a Bergen as a Troll, after all.

“It sucks to lose someone.” Gristle growled. “You know that as well as I do.”

“It sucks to lose someone close to you.” Branch snarled back. “Grandma was everything to me. Your Father was everything to you. But my former brothers are nothing to me.”

“Okay.” Gristle shrugged. He fixed Branch with a steady gaze. “But when your older brother dies on Mount Rageous, slowly and painfully…” He waved his hand dismissively, “I’d say I hope it doesn’t haunt you, but we both know it will.”

Branch’s shoulders hunched, his paws clenching and unclenching.

At Branch’s lack of response, Gristle cleared his throat. He walked over to the corner of the hall and pulled one of the colored cords, ringing a bell. A moment later, one of the serving staff—Hilda—arrived, bowing in greeting. “Your Majesty. Your Highness.”

Gristle spoke, “Inform Groth and Bernice that they have the remaining days before the wedding off. Paid leave.” Hilda nodded once and rushed off with her orders.

“What?” Branch’s eyes widened as he realized what his brother’s play was. “You did not just—”

“Branch.” Gristle’s voice was imploring. “You actually have the chance to help. To save your family.” Gristle clenched his hand into a fist, gaze resolute. “I’m not letting you waste this.”

“You—” Branch swallowed. His paws clenched and unclenched, and he wrested his gaze away from his big-little brother. After a long, drawn out moment, he threw his head back and sighed.

“I hate you so much.”

Gristle waved it off. “Yeah, yeah, love you too. Now go save your brother!”

+=+=+=+=+

John Dory stared at the album cover in his hands. He had always been more of a doer than a thinker—sitting around doing nothing only ever let in the thoughts he didn’t want, the thoughts that crept up his brain and haunted him for decades.

He, Rhonda, Poppy, and Bridget had moved to one of the castle’s two drawing rooms, the plush couches and craft-covered coffee table oddly Troll-like in design. Rhonda was curled up in Bridget’s lap—she’d taken a shine to the Bergen, which John Dory refused to acknowledge. Him and Poppy were both sitting atop Rhonda’s carapace, Poppy and Bridget talking about the upcoming wedding in a rapid-fire deluge of words that John Dory wasn’t processing.

Every inch of John Dory wanted to burst into action, to track down Bitty B and make him understand what was at stake here. But he didn’t feel ready to wander the castle halls alone with Rhonda, for all that Bridget had become less and less of an immediate threat in his mind.

“Okay, fine.” Branch’s voice cut through the room, and John Dory looked up to see his brother padding across the floor towards them. He launched himself onto the table with his hair. “Let’s go save Floyd.”

Branch had swapped the fur-lined cape for one made of a tougher fabric—well, no, this one was more of a cloak, actually, covering his shoulders fully. There were two clasps, one at his neck and one slightly lower—only the belled upper clasp was closed. Under the cloak, Branch had swapped his shirt for a leaf vest that John Dory vaguely recognized. It was an ensemble that screamed travel, even with the embroidered gray swirls lining the hem of the cloak.

The crown was still the same, though—same silver ring of leaves encircling Branch’s head. John Dory wondered if Bitty B ever parted with it. How long he had it.

Poppy was already moving, already on the table by the time John Dory was even standing. “I knew you’d come around! Oh, you’ll have to tell me all about it when you get back—”

Branch held up a paw. “Why would I do that? You’re coming with.” He said it so simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was, to him.

“Fine by me.” John Dory stretched before sliding down Rhonda’s side to her open door. Poppy had grown on him like moss on a stone—having her and her energy along would be great.

Poppy squealed. “Oh my hair! Yes! Yes yes yes!” She grabbed Branch’s wrist, yanking him over to Rhonda with ease. “Brozone 2.0! Brozone Reunion! Brozone, Here We Bro Again! Brozone, Where’d They Bro? I don’t know, WE’RE GONNA FIND THEM!”

“Have fun!” Bridget called out as Rhonda sped out the room. “Don’t die!”

John Dory grinned as Rhonda made her way down the castle steps. Finally, time to get this show on the road!

#zaz writes #dreamworks trolls #john dory trolls #rhonda trolls #poppy trolls #branch trolls #gristle trolls #bridget trolls #bernice trolls #between au #wooooooo!!! more between au!!#WHY IS. WHY IS THIS MORE THAN 6K WORDS WHAT #been working on this bad boy on and off for the past week or so #had a bit of trouble with jd's characterization but i think i managed something passable #yeah sure in canon he was just fine walking around the wedding venue full of bergens #but i thought it'd be more interesting if the trauma of living in the troll tree while trollstice was still a thing for the first 20 years #of his life was like. still a thing for him.#and he's a survivalist who lived largely in isolation while the formal removal of trollstice was pretty recent so it's very plausible #that jd didn't hear about trollstice no longer being a thing #and then for branch... he has a point but also. branch. buddy. you put everything aside to go on an adventure in wt #true there wasn't an upcoming wedding in that movie but like. branch. none of these adventures take more than a few days you'll be FINE #the travel cloak branch wears makes its first appearance in world tour but i haven't written anything for that movie yet whoops #bridget's final line is a ref to a joke i make all the time in the discord server. it's not a funny joke to anyone but me tho

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nariism · 1 year ago

Text

i'm fine. i'm fine....

all stars must die one day

SYNOPSIS: it’s always been him- stupidly perfect and handsome Alhaitham who you saw as the bane of your academic achievements. Three years later and now so much has changed. He misses you. He misses your endless bickering and meaningless fights. Why did you change so much? It’s a mystery he makes up his mind to resolve.

CHARACTERS: Alhaitham, gossip circle consisting of Kaveh, Tighnari, and Lisa + the rest of the Sumeru cast

TAGS: heavy angst w/fluff, academic burnout, burnt-out gifted kid, mild profanity, gn reader, reader is briefly mentioned to be shorter than Alhaitham, toxic family dynamics, 15.7k+ word count

NOTES: college decisions and my experiences from the past two years really compelled me to write this. If you’re going through burnout, know that you’re not alone and that you can do this.

this took me almost half a year to finish wtf

There’s a comet that crosses Sumeru’s skies only once in a lifetime.

Alhaitham had heard some Rtawahsit students discussing it the other day. They were practically buzzing with excitement over the news of its reappearance.

“Isn’t this the perfect opportunity?”

“How lucky are we to be able to witness it?”

“Even our professors are excited about it!”

Alhaitham couldn’t care less. The phenomena of celestial events, while dazzling, are easily explained by science. It’s not like they were anything special either. At their heart, they’re composed of ordinary materials- rock, dust, water, and ice, plus other chemicals.

He puts it out of his mind until he’s rudely awoken one night by loud noises outside the window. A flash of annoyance runs through him as he gets up and looks out to glare at the crowd of students passing through. A glance at their berets tells him they’re Rtawahsit students. They’re trying their best to be quiet, but when it’s practically an entire Darshan on the move, that becomes a difficult task.

It seems as if he’s not the only one that was woken up. Other familiar faces are peeking through cracked-open windows. Lisa, Cyno, and Tighnari all yawn while watching the crowd of students pass by before looking at each other and following them. Kaveh, who has just woken up from his spot across the room, gives Alhaitham one last look before leaving.

Alhaitham closes the window and flops back onto his bed. He covers his ears with his pillow and closes his eyes, attempting to fall back asleep. He never cared for what other people thought or did, so why should he blindly follow the crowd? He wasn’t even curious anyway.

But for some strange reason, he can’t seem to fall asleep. He tosses and turns, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, before finally getting up to put his restless mind at ease.

It’s easy to figure out where everyone has gone. All he has to do is follow the sounds of chatter. It leads him to the top of the Divine Tree the city is built upon. There, Rtawahsit students are busy setting up their telescopes while others have pen and paper at their disposal for note-taking. Professors guide said students while those from other Darshans watch on in curiosity and gaze at the sky in anticipation.

Tighnari and the others beckon him over. He squeezes himself into the secluded corner they claimed for themselves, poking Kaveh with his limbs intentionally in the process. To his surprise, you’re there too. You lean against Lisa’s arm and shoot him a little glare that lacks any real hate before turning back to the sky, glaring at him when he decides to sit in front of you and block your view.

“Look!” shouts a student. “It’s started!”

Almost immediately, everybody goes silent. Only the sounds of birds and wildlife can be heard, along with the quiet breathing of everyone searching wildly for it.

(He’s acutely aware of the warm puffs of air that tickle the back of his neck when you exhale. It shouldn’t be this distracting, but it is. Is this your way of getting back at him?)

There’s an excited gasp from a girl with her telescope. She wildly gestures toward the sky and Alhaitham sees a bright speck of light out of the corner of his eye. Several smaller meteors zip through the sky, but everybody’s attention is on the largest one. It outshines all the other stars in the sky as it speeds by, heating up into a white-hot glow and leaving a glittering trail of blue stardust behind. It is a star not of this world, speeding onward toward its destination- toward something greater.

“Look,” he hears Lisa whisper. He briefly tears his attention from the sky to see her lean toward you. “Make a wish.”

Alhaitham sees you close your eyes for a moment before opening them again. What did you just wish for?

It’s gone in just a few minutes, heading toward the horizon until not even a pinprick of its light can be seen anymore. The sky is now dark again. With the main event over, most people begin getting up to return to their rooms. His eyes linger on your form, now walking away. Lisa’s voice from earlier repeats in his head.

“Make a wish.”

It’s a childish belief not rooted in reason- he knows that. But for just a second, he closes his eyes and makes a wish.

He met you at the start of his first year.

It’s too loud here. I want to go home already.

From his seat in the back of the room, he watches as spots gradually fill up as the start time draws nearer. Much to his delight, everybody leaves his spot in the back of the classroom alone, instead opting to sit toward the front.

That is until someone sits down in the row in front of him. He looks up from the pages of his book, slightly annoyed. Curses, now he couldn’t be by himself anymore. But they leave him alone and keep to themselves as the professor walks in and introduces himself and the class, so he tolerates it.

There’s a light tap on his desk. He looks up to see you watching him expectantly. He’s able to get his first good look at you now. Your Akademiya uniform is a little too big on you and the sleeves drape over your hands. Your green hat sits lopsidedly on your head and you have the air of a starry-eyed and enthusiastic first-year student.

“Yes?”

“The professor told us to introduce ourselves to those around us,” you explain. “I’m (Name).”

“Alhaitham. Pleased to meet you.”

You nod in response and turn back around. Your professor is explaining the course and handing the syllabus out, but your mind wanders toward the guy sitting behind you whom you’ve just met.

He’s cute, you think to yourself. In like, a little kid or puppy kind of way. He’s still a little short and scrawny- wait, how old is he anyway? Don’t tell me he’s one of those child prodigies that got in at a super young age… Or maybe he’s just a late bloomer, who knows?

A few weeks later, the results of your first test roll around. The 98 scribbled and circled in red ink at the top of the paper makes you nod in satisfaction. It’s indicative of a good start, but when you take a look at the board in front of the class, you see someone has gotten a perfect score.

And it turns out the culprit himself sits right behind you.

You glare at the 100% in red ink at the top of his page as if it has personally offended you. As if to further insult you, there was a small “good job!” written in the margins by the professor that you didn’t have on your paper.

“A 98? Good, but not perfect. Perhaps you should have studied more,” he nonchalantly remarks after seeing yours. Your eye twitches in irritation.

Oh, it is so on.

From that day onward, you swore to yourself that you would beat Alhaitham, no matter what it took. Even if it meant sleepless nights spent hunched over your notes and textbooks, they were all a price you were willing to pay to prove that you were the undisputed best.

Soon after, you don’t see Alhaitham in class anymore. His seat behind you is left unoccupied and you hear rumors that he opted for self-study instead- whatever that was. Despite that, he still gets top marks in everything, only serving to annoy you and spur you onward.

However, you still see him at the library, and frequently at that. It’s somewhat surprising, considering that the Akasha Terminal has the same function and is more convenient. As a result, the library is mostly empty save for the few students that are there to study materials that aren’t entered into the Akasha’s database. You’re there because you prefer the quiet, focused environment of the library to your dorm, which despite the Akademiya and its students' almost religious devotion to academics, can get a little too rowdy for your liking at times. Plus, you prefer the feeling of a physical book in your hands over its digitized counterpart in the Akasha. It makes it easier to take notes and learn that way.

Recently, you’ve found a spot in the library that you’ve taken a liking to. It’s located in the back and obscured by bookshelves, giving you some much-needed privacy while you study and it’s located by a window, allowing for ample natural light.

But apparently, someone else has already claimed it, unbeknownst to you.

“This is my spot.”

You don’t even look up from your book. The voice alone was a dead giveaway as to who was speaking.

“And? I didn’t see your name on it.”

Alhaitham sits at the seat across from you, purposefully spreading his books and other materials across the desk to push yours off to the side. A satisfied smirk twitches at the corners of his lips when he sees your eyes narrow in irritation.

“Are you here just to bother me?”

“If I wanted to bother you, I’d find other ways to do it.”

You huff in annoyance and turn the page. He watches you over the top of his book with intrigue as you alternate between reading and taking notes.

“... Will you quit staring at me like that? It’s distracting.”

“Oh? So you’re admitting that I’m a distraction?”

“You-!”

A sharp hiss to be quiet from a librarian passing by silences you both temporarily. You glare at him accusingly, which he merely brushes off.

There’s a reluctant compromise that arises between you after that. Every day after class, you would meet at the same spot in the library to study. You would sit across from each other and work independently from each other until it was time to go, where you’d then say your goodbyes before heading your separate ways. Rinse and repeat and that was what your average day looked like.

“So, what’s up with that thing between you and (Name)?”

You pause from your studying after overhearing that line and look up. Across the clearing are Alhaitham and a blond-haired man. Kaveh, if you recall his name correctly.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply,” replies Alhaitham.

“Is there some sort of competition between you two? Whenever I see you guys, you’re basically at each other’s throats over test scores and stuff.”

“There is no such competition. That would be a pointless waste of my time and energy.”

The urge to throw your book at his head across the clearing is strong, but you’ll settle for Kaveh giving him a doubtful expression.

“You say that and yet you’ve been putting more work into your studies than ever.”

“That’s none of your business.”

But for all your efforts, you can’t seem to catch up to him. He was always one step- or rather, one point- ahead of you. He’d always be there, subtly rubbing his achievements right in your face even though the difference is practically negligible at least half of the time.

It gets to the point where you begin to rant about your troubles to Lisa.

“Can you believe this guy? It makes me wonder if he’s a sadist of some sort that gets a kick out of annoying me.”

You’re sitting outside in one of the many gazebos around the Akademiya. Despite studying under a different Darshan, you quickly became friends with her.

She laughs lightly at your words.

“To me, it sounds like your poor heart is troubled! Shall doctor Lisa perform a checkup on you?”

You swat her hand away.

“Don’t play with me like that. And you’re not even an Amurta student!”

You hear footsteps coming down the pathway and speak of the devil, the topic of your conversation is walking toward you, his book in hand as always. You watch him out of the corner of your eye. He meets your gaze and holds it for several long, agonizing seconds before looking forward again and disappearing out of sight. You shudder and look away, Lisa chuckling lightly at your actions.

“Asshole,” you grumble. “What’s his problem? And did you see how cold his eyes were? Makes me wonder if the rumors of him having a heart of ice are true…”

Lisa hesitates at that.

“I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong, (Name).”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

She purses her lips and looks off to the side.

“It’s hard to explain, even for me. But you’ll see and come to understand in due time how acutely aware he is of the emotions of those around him, especially those he is close to.”

You think you understand the meaning of her words a few weeks later when the results of a particularly rough test greet you.

75%

Damn it, you think before roughly shoving the papers into your bag, away from the prying eyes of your classmates. I can’t falter here now. I still have so much more to do.

“I can tutor you if you’d like. I don’t offer this to just anyone, so I’d advise you to consider it,” Alhaitham says in the library later that day. You know that most people would kill for this opportunity and you weren’t blinded by jealousy to the point where you couldn’t see the benefit of his offer.

But your pride prevents you from accepting it.

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’d rather do this myself.”

Another time, Alhaitham has to get up at a time when he should be asleep. Earlier that day, he had left a book of his behind and forgotten about it until now, leaving him to search the now-dark and empty halls of the Akademiya for where it might be.

He happens to pass by the House of Daena on the way and sees a solitary lamp lit in the back corner where he usually frequents. Out of sheer curiosity, he steps inside to see there’s a familiar figure hunched over the desk, clearly fast asleep with piles upon piles of books and notes stacked around them.

Alhaitham gazes down at you with his ever-impassive eyes, silently wondering what to do next. A cold gust of air blows through the library and he shivers slightly. He looks down at your exposed arms, then at his jacket, before taking it off and draping it over your form. Catching a cold would serve you no good and you’d most likely return it to him later tomorrow.

Before he leaves, his curiosity gets the better of him and he takes a quick peek at your notes.

His eyes widen ever so slightly. Much of the material scattered around your desk was far ahead of what you were and needed to be learning. Did you borrow these books and notes from upperclassmen? The handwriting is a mix of yours and someone else’s… He doesn’t see the point in you doing so- it’s all just unnecessary work, in his opinion. Either way, it’s none of his business and you can do as you please, but Alhaitham can’t help but wonder if you were doing all of this just to stay ahead- to keep up or even surpass him.

He leaves and you wake up soon after to something warm and soft covering your shoulders. It’s a standard Akademiya-issued jacket for the fall and winter terms. It’s way too big on you and the sleeves completely cover your hands. Curiously, you pull it tighter around your form. It smells nice- like old books and coffee- and you suddenly realize who it belongs to. Your face suddenly flushes and it’s not from the warmth of the jacket.

Alhaitham-!

The next day, Alhaitham arrives at his usual spot in the library. You’re sitting across from him as usual and interestingly refuse to make eye contact with him.

Sumeru’s climate has always been temperate, but the days are getting longer and warmer now. You’ve finally shed your winter uniform for your spring one and with the end of the year rapidly approaching comes major tests. The library is the most packed it's ever been with students everywhere cramming last-minute. It’s rare to find an empty table now, but thankfully your spot in the back with Alhaitham is still left unoccupied. If not, Alhaitham’s cold glare is more than enough to scare them away.

For one of your classes, it’s a project instead of a test. You have the option to choose the type of project, but for some stupid reason, your professor was still assigning partners instead of being able to choose.

“And (Name), let’s see… hmm, I’ll pair you up with Alhaitham. How does that sound?”

Your blood runs cold and you hear your classmates snicker around you. You want to scream at the prospect of it. Sumeru would sooner freeze over before the two of you cooperate and he knows it. You catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye, daring you to say no.

You swallow your pride and nod. The tips of your ears burn and at that moment, you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“... That sounds fine.”

How humiliating.

Later that day in the library, he’s even more infuriating than normal, if that’s even possible. His face betrays nothing but you can hear the smugness dripping from his voice and mannerisms. His arms crossed in front of his chest, the way he would subtly look down on you with that know-it-all gaze… it all made you want to punch his (handsome) face.

“Don’t fall behind now,” he says once you’ve finally settled on a project.

“Let’s see if you can even keep up with me.”

Your project is relatively straightforward but involves a lot of cooperation between you two. As you work, it becomes an all-too-common sight to see you arguing everywhere you go, much to the irritation of others.

“I’m telling you, this character has to be symbolic of rebirth! Why else would we see it so concentrated in scripts that were dated toward the end of that civilization?”

“You seem to be forgetting that this has also been seen elsewhere. Besides, there are reasons to believe that it means something else.”

“What, did it get lost in translation? If you think you’re so smart, then go ahead and enlighten me.”

You glare at him as he sips his coffee (with milk and two sugars, you note. Just the way he likes it).

“God, can they just kiss already?” grumbles Kaveh from where he sits across the room. Lisa and Tighnari sitting at the same table nodded in agreement.

“Meeting up to work outside of class is normal, but over lunch? Sounds like a date to me,” complains Tighnari while not-so-subtly eyeing the way you animatedly bicker with him.

“Hey, isn’t this Alhaitham’s treat as well?” asks Kaveh. Tighnari’s ears twitch and perk up at his question. He glances at the both of you- Alhaitham just paused to ask if you’d like a refill of your tea, and you said yes- before groaning.

“It sure looks like it…”

Lisa decides to take matters into her own hands.

“Are you two arguing or flirting?” she asks in a loud voice.

“Arguing!” you retort. Alhaitham merely rolls his eyes and steals one of your samosas while you aren’t looking.

“I saw that! Give it back!”

“Too late.”

Two months, lots of bickering, and lots of coffee later, you present the culmination of your work to the class. For all the headaches and lost sleep you had to endure, your efforts are handsomely rewarded with a perfect score and rare compliments from your professor. And for that alone, it was well worth everything you went through.

“Good job. It was a rewarding experience working with you. I daresay that our arguments aside, we make for a decent team.”

You look up to see Alhaitham.

“Oh? A rare compliment from the stoic and sharp-tongued man himself?”

“Don’t make me retract my words.”

“Ouch, how cold of you.”

When you return to your dorm later that night, there’s a note addressed to you from Lisa.

I overheard one of your professors talking about you and Alhaitham with someone else today- Professor Behnam, I think that was his name? I’m fairly sure this was after you guys presented because they mentioned that briefly. I wrote this down in a hurry as they were speaking, but here’s what he said:

They complement each other perfectly. While they both have unmatched erudition and wit, one has the creativity and uninhibited ambition the other tends to lack. However, he is more pragmatic and logical. Despite their differences, they make for a perfect team.

They will surely be among some of the best scholars the Akademiya has seen in a long time.

You end your first year tied for the top of the class with him.

“I’m home!”

“Welcome home, (Name)! How were your last few weeks at the Akademiya?”

Your parents’ home is as warm and welcoming as always. The house has been freshly cleaned and is practically shining. They take your bags and usher you into the kitchen, where your favorite dishes are sitting on the kitchen table, freshly cooked for dinner with steam still rising from them.

“It’s been fine,” you say. “Stressful, but also enjoyable. I like my classes and I get along with my classmates and professors.”

“How are your grades? Have they been finalized yet?”

You nod and beam them with pride.

“Ended the year at the top of the class.”

Your parents’ eyes widen and they clap excitedly.

“That’s our child!”

“As brilliant and talented as always!”

“Good, keep going! Remember to study for money!”

“I will!”

Your mother leans in close and clasps your hand in hers. “After these four years, you should continue your education and become a sage! Maybe even work your way up and become the next Grand Sage!”

You balk at the prospect of it.

“A-A sage? Mom, there are tons of talented people in the Akademiya- that’s where the best of the best go to study! The chances that I’ll make it to that point are slim!”

Your father clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

“Nonsense!” he exclaims. “You ended this year at the top of your class, you know. Besides, you inherited the intelligence of both your parents- I’d imagine that this would be a doable task for you. Also, imagine how amazing it would be if you were to become a sage! You’d be the first one in the family! Wouldn’t that be such an achievement for us?”

“That’s not even true! There was someone else who tied with me for the top of the class as well and if I’m being honest, he has a better shot at it than me!”

Your mom’s eyes sharpen and you instantly regret saying that.

“He? So… a guy, huh?”

You mentally brace yourself for a barrage of questions.

“What’s his name? What’s he like? How smart is he? Is he good enough for you? Does he have-”

“Dear, stop it,” your father says. “Look, you’re overwhelming them.”

You sigh and shake your head. “For starters, his name is Alhaitham-”

“Alhaitham? I’ve heard that name somewhere before… wait, I remember now!” exclaims your father. “His grandmother was a Ksharewar scholar. His mother was a renowned Vahumana scholar and his father was a mentor in Haravatat.”

“Was?” you ask. Your father bites his lip and looks away.

“... His grandmother passed away a few years ago and from what I heard, so did his parents when he was young.”

“Oh.”

The kitchen is silent for a few moments before your father breaks it.

“Wait, (Name), why do you look so surprised? I thought you knew this already, considering he’s your rival and everything! I thought you would at least know something about him.”

“Dad, that’s exactly the point- we’re rivals and I don’t want to know anything about him! All that matters is beating him at his own game and that’s that. Besides, he never tells me anything about his personal life, so why should I do the same?”

“They’re right, you know.”

Your father merely rolls his eyes at your mother’s remark.

“You know the rules, don’t get too close to him now,” your mother warns. “You have to do whatever it takes to be the best, whatever? That’s what you promised us.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, mom, I know. I’ll do my best to become a sage.”

Your parents lean in to hold you close, your mother giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.

“That’s our child. Make us proud, ok?”

“I will!”

After a lovely three months of summer vacation (and not being forced to see Alhaitham every day save for the rare occasions where you’d run into him in public- you’d immediately turn the other way and act as if nothing happened), you head back to the Akademiya for your second year. Like last year, you share many of your classes with the bane of your existence, although things are… less tense than they were before. The underlying spark of competition is still there, but not as prominent as before.

Alhaitham is pleasantly surprised at how you’ve mellowed out over the summer. Something in your eyes has hardened and the way your mouth is set is different now. You’ve lost some of the baby fat in your cheeks (shame, he enjoyed poking and prodding at them, much to your annoyance) and you’ve grown a bit taller as well. He’s grown taller as well and to your irritation, he’s gaining on you. He’s put on some muscle as well and according to Kaveh, who you befriended over the summer, he’s started learning the art of the sword.

(“What for?” you had asked back then. He had merely shrugged.

“Too much free time on his hands, I guess. I thought he was training to be a mercenary at first.”

“I just can’t imagine him with a sword. In my mind, I see him toppling over from the weight of it.”

“Same here.”)

On the first day back, you merely greet him with a nod and you’re less opposed to working with him than before- although you can’t seem to break the habit of making a sarcastic jab at him now and then.

As the year progresses though, Alhaitham notices a change in you- namely, your test scores. He catches a glimpse of them sticking out of your folder at the library.

85%. 75%. 83%. 79%. They’re not as good as they were last year but they aren’t a concern for Alhaitham. As far as he knows, you’re still doing good overall and your classes are getting harder. It’s only reasonable and he hasn’t observed any noticeable or drastic changes in your personality, so it doesn’t warrant any concern.

That is, in his eyes. The same can’t be said for you though.

You didn't realize how much time you had spent studying until the library was closed one day. Sitting at your cramped desk with your roommate you barely know nowhere in sight, you’re suddenly aware of how quiet it is. Normally, you’d hear at least something- people arguing down the hall and music playing, among others. But today, it was eerily silent.

From the back of your mind, you recall news of a party that was supposed to be happening around this time. Lisa extended an invitation to you but you turned it down, claiming that you had to study. It was a bullshit excuse, now that you think about it.

(Lisa had looked at you knowingly when you said that, but not in a good way. Worry was present in her eyes, resigned to the fact that she couldn’t do anything.

“Alright,” she had said. “Just… don’t head down the path I think you’re on.”)

Your pen freezes mid-stroke as a horrifying thought crosses your mind. You now finally understand the true meaning of her words.

Have I… been making the right decisions? How much have I missed out on?

Your books and the allure of good grades tempt you, but you force yourself to evaluate your life so far. You have some of the highest marks in the entire class but you realize you have almost no experience or connections, and that was what really mattered.

All of the studying in the world can’t compare to pulling a few strings, after all.

Not long after the year starts, Alhaitham notices that you’ve started going out more. You’re spending less of your time at the library during weekends and instead spending time with friends in the city.

(“You actually have a life outside of the Akademiya. I’m surprised.”

“I should be the one telling you that.”)

“Come on, (Name), come join us at the tavern tonight! We booked the place and everyone is going to be there! You’re missing out if you don’t, just saying…”

The familiar voice belonging to a certain blond makes you look up. You huff a sigh and set your notes down to glare at Kaveh, who has been pestering you to go to a party at Lambad’s Tavern tonight. You’re about to tell him you’re not interested when you stop just short of saying so.

Will I regret saying no?

“(Name), you’re young right now! Take some risks and live life a little, otherwise, you’ll have nothing to look back fondly on once you’re all old and wrinkly! That old dusty rock-of-a-friend Alhaitham would say the same thing, you know… although, maybe he’d phrase it differently.”

Kaveh’s right, you realize. I can make up a test. I can always study later. But I’m only young for a little while. I can’t make up for lost time.

“Just curious- what’s in it for me?”

“Oh, the usual. Free food, entertainment, a break from these stupid books, alcohol- oh, and you might get to see a rare drunk Alhaitham there! Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

“No need to venture into that territory. You already had me at the free food part. So, what time?”

Later that evening at the tavern, you realize Kaveh wasn’t kidding when he said everyone was going to be there- he really did mean everyone the moment you step inside. Lisa is the center of attention with wide-eyed students gawking at her alcohol tolerance- seriously, how is she not drunk yet?- while Tighnari stands in the corner with his ears folded over and eyes squeezed shut. Cyno’s glare is more than enough to scare anyone away as he leads the fox hybrid upstairs toward a quieter spot.

There’s enough alcohol being passed around to knock a Sumpter Beast unconscious. You only have a few drinks, not wanting to be hungover on a weekday. At one point, a familiar voice drifts its way over to you.

“(Name), over here!”

It’s Kaveh, and… Alhaitham next to him is drunk from the looks of it? His face is flushed and he stumbles as he walks with Kaveh being the only thing stopping him from faceplanting onto the floor.

“I thought Alhaitham could handle his alcohol?” you ask as you sling one of his arms around your shoulder and make your way out the tavern.

“He does, but he tried a new type of alcohol tonight that was stronger than he expected. Fire-something… it’s from Snezhnaya, if that explains anything.”

You glance at his heavily flushed face again and sigh.

“Yeah, that explains everything.”

After lugging Alhaitham across Sumeru City and up the many steps leading to the Akademiya, you’re prepared to say goodnight to Kaveh and head back to your dorm when you feel something latch onto your shirt. It’s Alhaitham and even in his drunken stupor, he’s surprisingly strong.

“Wait.”

“What is it?” you ask after a moment of hesitation. His answer is instant.

“Don’t go,” he slurs out.

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. Don’t take anything he says at face value.

But even so, you spot the opportunity to tease him.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because… you’re one of my only friends.”

You go quiet at that. Nothing could have prepared you for that response. Every witty remark and sarcastic jab you had prepared on the tip of your tongue fizzled out instantly. Even Kaveh, who has no shortage of words when it comes to Alhaitham, falls silent.

In the year or so that you’ve known Alhaitham for, he’s never been one to get close with people, instead preferring to keep them at arm’s length. Most likely, it’s the alcohol inhibiting his filter, but you can’t ignore the little flutter in your stomach at his words.

“I guess you are one to me as well, Haitham. I-”

“Say that again.”

His sudden demand makes you pause. Despite his drunken state, there’s a fire in his eyes that briefly makes you question whether he’s sober.

“... I guess you are one-”

He stops you. “No. Not that. Repeat what you said at the very end of it.”

“Haitham?”

“Call me that again.”

“Haitham.”

“Again.”

A smile creeps onto your face now that you’ve finally caught on. How cute.

“Haitham.”

“Again.”

And secretly inside, you’re happy. Happy that someone considers you a friend for the first time. You no longer feel dehumanized from idolization or isolated from everyone else and you realize it’s what you’ve been secretly wishing for this whole time.

“Goodnight, Haitham.”

It’s now a common occurrence between you two to drag each other to activities on the weekends. One day, it’s Alhaitham camping out with you late at night to go stargazing. (“(Name), this is boring.” “You can go home if you want. I won’t stop you.” “Hmph.”) Another day, it’s him inviting you to the various coffee shops throughout the city and sampling their beverages. (“The shop we went to last week does a pour-over better.” “You think so too?”)

Another time, you’re heading back to the Akademiya after a day of shopping and playing Genius Invocation (he lost miserably several times in a row to you, much to his embarrassment). It’s been overcast the whole day and the air has been humid but you nervously brushed off the weather’s warning signs.

Something wet lands on your cheek. You blink and look up, then at the ground where raindrops are rapidly dotting the surface. You meet Alhaitham’s gaze, the rising panic in your eyes apparently visible because he pulls you toward the souvenir shop, where you both seek shelter against the escalating downpour. Sheets of rain crash against the ground and the sides of buildings and the gusts of wind make the trees sway violently.

(You both, like idiots, forgot to bring your umbrellas. In the middle of Sumeru’s rainy season.)

You can barely see past your two feet but you can make out something moving nearby, and it’s getting closer. Small, gray, and most definitely sopping wet, it’s… a cat?

The small creature pauses and runs as fast as it can toward you. You take your hat off and scoop it up, where it meows pitifully and sneezes. A quick check tells you that the cat is a girl.

“(Name), what-”

“Look, Haitham,” you whisper as you shrug your jacket off and dry the cat. “Poor baby must have gotten stranded and lost in the rain. She came running to us for help.”

The cat shakes off the last of the rain clinging to her fur and now you can see that she resembles Alhaitham quite a bit with her gray fur and green eyes. You wonder if she has his attitude as well…

“I wonder if she’s someone’s pet cat that ran away.”

“She’s probably one of the city’s many strays. I don’t see a collar on her.”

“She’s well-fed for one…” you grumble, noting her plump belly. “So, can we keep her?”

“(Name), you know animals, unless they’re service animals, are not allowed in Akademiya dorms.”

“That hasn’t stopped people though. Someone on my floor snuck their pet cat into the dorms and it’s an open secret among all of us.”

“But still-”

And then you hit him with puppy eyes. The edges of your mouth quiver and turn down, while your eyes soften and go wide.

“Please?”

His resolve crumbles instantly.

“Fine. But you’re keeping it.”

You sheepishly smile. “About that…”

What now?

“My roommate is a blabbermouth and a stickler for the rules. If I kept her, she would be gone and back on the streets before noon tomorrow.”

“Are you suggesting that I take care of her?”

“Are you against it?”

“Taking care of an animal is a big responsibility, (Name). One that requires time and-”

“I can help you take care of her. With the two of us looking after her, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being optimistic or oversimplifying the problem here.”

You roll your eyes and Alhaitham looks off to the side.

“I’ll have to ask Kaveh-”

“Kaveh would be over the moon at the prospect of you bringing home a cat. You know how much he loves animals. This cat will be in good hands under his and our care.”

Looks like he now has no other choice but to say yes. He heaves a deep sigh and looks back up at you.

“Fine. I’ll keep her in my room.”

Your face lights up.

“But first, we need to give her a name.”

You scrunch your brows and think for a moment.

“How about Thamina?”

“Thamina,” he repeats. “Meaning valuable or priceless. It fits well.”

You become a frequent visitor to Kaveh and Alhaitham’s dorm after that. It gets to the point where Alhaitham gives you his copy of the spare key so you could come and go as you please (to which Kaveh gives him a knowing look that he pointedly ignores for his own sake). At first, you primarily visited to take care of Thamina, but at some point, you began visiting primarily for him.

Study sessions slowly move from the House of Daena to his room, with him at his desk and you sitting on his bed. Thamina bears witness to the heated debates shared between you two in the late hours of the night and the quiet moments of studying. Alhaitham is there to keep her company throughout the day, but she patiently waits for you after a long day of classes. She watches as you two steal each other’s belongings and food (occasionally joining in if she smelled fish in the box you brought home from a late-night dinner). When there is a disagreement between you two, she’s there to help you reconcile in the form of demanding affection and cuddles.

But when she and Kaveh are fast asleep, only you two are privy to the heavy conversations that happen once and are never brought up again.

“Tell me more about your family, Haitham.”

He freezes, then casts a suspicious glance at you over his shoulder.

“Where is this question coming from? And why?”

You shrug.

“I just wanted to know more about the people that raised you to become the person you are today.”

“... My grandmother raised me,” he says after a moment of hesitation. “I admittedly don’t know much about my parents- only that my mother was a renowned Vahumana scholar and my father was a mentor in Haravatat. They both died in an accident, thus leaving me under my grandmother’s care.”

You make yourself comfortable on his bed and nod, urging him to continue.

“My grandmother was a Kshahrewar scholar. By the time I was born, she had already retired. As such, she had a lot of free time. We did a lot of things together.”

He pauses to recount his fading memories of her.

“She liked to bake. Her desserts were on the sweeter side, but I have the recipes. I can tweak them so they’re less sweet for you.”

“I’d like that very much.”

“She liked to cook as well. I’d often wake up to the smell of food in the kitchen and she’d be there at the stove. She’d make my favorites and always save most of it or the best parts for me. Unlike with baking, she never used any recipes for her cooking. I’ve tried to imitate her dishes, but it’s never exactly the same as I remember.”

Haitham’s bed is comfy, you note. You pull the covers over yourself, feeling your eyelids grow heavier.

“Were you a chubby child who was spoiled by grandma?” you tease.

“Yes,” he admits.

You giggle. “I wish I could have seen you as a kid, chubby cheeks and all.”

There are baby photos his grandma kept that he now has, but he’ll never tell you that.

“Like you, she was more of a tea person than a coffee person. She liked hers sweetened while I liked mine more plain. She never knew where she left her reading glasses and she’d always ask me to find them. When I was younger, she’d read a bedtime story to me every night. If there was nothing we were doing, I’d spend the whole day on her lap as she read the books of my choosing aloud to me. One of the last things she told me was that I was so similar to my father, both in nature and appearance. And more than anything else, she was kind.”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“Yes. I miss her a lot.”

“Your grandma sounds like an amazing person,” you sleepily mumble. “I would have liked to meet her.”

The last thing you hear before finally drifting off is Alhaitham’s whispered response.

“She would have liked to meet you too.”

And the next night, the conversation is equally as heavy.

“Hey, Haitham.”

“What is it?” he whispers back.

“Do you think that.. I don’t know, that I’m not quite who I used to be?”

Alhaitham sets his pen down.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Do you think I’ve changed in more ways than one?”

“Well, you’re less annoying now.”

You give him a well-deserved jab on the bicep with the end of your pen. Much to your annoyance, he doesn’t even flinch and continues.

“The way I see it, change is inevitable. We all fight and run from it, but it eventually catches up with us. It is neither good nor bad. Rather, it’s what you make of it. But to answer your question, yes. You’ve matured more mentally. You’ve realized there’s more to life now. You’re learning how to live life on your own terms now, aren’t you?’

Your silence tells him everything he needs to know.

“Tell me, Haitham. What do you wish for?”

Alhaitham is a simple man with few desires. If all his basic needs and simple wants of books and time to himself are met, then he is content. But your question has him thinking. Is there anything else he wants in his life?

And it turns out the answer is yes.

“Regardless of how things turn out in the future, I’d like to be able to continue talking to you like this. That’s my wish.”

Kaveh stirs in his sleep. Thamina rolls over and makes biscuits on your lap. A small smile creeps onto your face. You turn away and resume your work. He does the same.

It’s a mundane scene- two Akademiya students pulling another all-nighter to complete their work. And yet…

Yes, this is what I want, Alhaitham thinks to himself. Everything I could ever want means nothing if you aren’t here.

The spring semester comes around and with that comes the finals grind. You’ve thrown yourself into your studies in a last-minute attempt to save, in your opinion, your failing grades since you aren’t at the top of your class anymore. (Alhaitham thinks you’re insane- you’re still in the top five.) As if to rub it in your face, you get a letter from your family one day.

We heard that you’re no longer at the top of your class. What happened?

Your eyes and mind glazed over the rest of the letter until the end.

Study harder. You can end it the same way you did last year if you would spend more time on it. Don’t get distracted now.

A rare instance of frustration flashes through you and before you know it, you’ve ripped up the letter and tossed it in the trash.

Who told them that anyway?

“Lisa… graduated early?”

The news comes to you over dinner one day when you ask where Lisa is upon realizing she’s not there. You’ve just finished all your finals and you want nothing more than to relax and catch up on some sleep, but news regarding your best friend makes you temporarily forget about those plans.

Cyno nods. “It’s a whole thing now. They’re saying she’s the best student the Akademiya has had in the past 200 years. Once in a generation is what they’re calling her now.”

You bite your lip and look away. A weak “tell her I said congratulations” is all you can get out as envy begins festering deep within you. You’re ashamed of yourself- she’s your best friend, for Archon’s sake, you should be feeling excited for her- but you just can’t.

Why couldn’t it have been me instead?

You end your second year third in the class, with Alhaitham at the top.

“Welcome home, (Name).”

The house is a little chilly when you step inside. Dinner has already been prepared- it’s sitting on the table- but it looks like it was made some time ago. Your father ushers you into the kitchen, where your mother waits expectantly, her lips stretched into a thin smile when she sees you.

There are the usual dinnertime conversations- how has your day been? Fine, yours? Same old, same old- but they feel stiffer than usual. It doesn’t flow and you find yourself internally wincing at the heavy silence between you.

“So.”

You pause and look up at your mother, who has finally broken the awkward silence surrounding the kitchen table.

“We heard you… didn’t do so well at the Akademiya this year.”

You freeze and internally brace yourself for what is to come.

“Only third this year? (Name), you were first last year, how come you couldn’t place first again? That’s not so hard, is it? You just have to put some effort in, stop being so lazy, and you’ll do fine! Besides, it’s only your second year, what could be so difficult about it? We know you’re smart and that you could’ve easily been first again. You’re just getting complacent, that’s all! Do you really want that Alhaitham to beat you at your own game? How humiliating would that be for us? Think of the embarrassment we, your poor mother and father, would face from others in the Akademiya- our golden child (Name), who was once someone people aspired to be, but now nothing but a disappointment!”

“Your mother’s right, (Name),” says your father. “We have high expectations for you, or should I say, had.”

Their disappointment cuts deep into your soul, yet something quietly snaps inside you. You glare at them one more time before slipping away.

“I’m not hungry anymore. I’ve lost my appetite.”

You go to your childhood room and lock the door behind you. Your parents’ voices- most definitely talking about you- drift up the stairs and you do your best to tune them out. As if to mock you, hanging on the wall across from you are all the awards you won at academic competitions throughout your life. Trophies, ribbons, certificates, and medals line every bit of space available, all of them with your name and a first-place title proudly engraved onto them.

Now that you think about it, were you really happy with being the best? Your younger self would laugh and say “of course!”, but why exactly?

And then the realization hits you. You personally felt nothing being the best at everything. The title, the fake smiles, and the forced compliments from others- they couldn’t mean less to you.

You were only happy because your parents were happy. Were you ever happy with yourself- with who you were as a person? You don’t know.

Stars live for an incredibly long time, but they too must die out one day. Their reserves of hydrogen gas will inevitably run out and they will either go out with a bang or a fizzle depending on their size. Larger stars go out in a blaze of glory, expanding up to several times their size before exploding and bathing the universe in the remains of their supernova for eons to come, while smaller ones condense from the gravity pushing inward and shrink down into a cold white dwarf, destined to drift across the universe alone for the rest of time. That is your fate, yet you do not know it yet. The last of your fuel has finally been spent, and the end is nigh. Whether you will go out with a bang or fade into obscurity is something only time will tell.

You’ve had enough of the stifling atmosphere in the house.

It’s only been a few days since summer vacation began and you’re already at your wit’s end. The heavy silence hanging in the air and their passive-aggressive comments toward you make you want to tear your hair out. Or run away. Maybe both.

There are still lots of days left before you start class again. Surely there’s something you can do until then…

And then it hits you: traveling throughout Sumeru! You were born and raised in the city, but you’ve rarely ventured outside of its borders. This could be a good chance to expand your horizons and gain experience!

So without further ado, you pack your bags, plan a route, and begin your adventures. Most of the time, you’d leave at dawn before your parents woke up and return late at night after they’d fallen asleep. Sometimes, you wouldn’t return for days, instead choosing to camp outside or stay at a friend’s house for a while. From what you’ve heard through your neighbors and friends, your parents don’t seem to care what you’re doing either. Some of your friends even say that they look happier now that you’re out of the house. The notion stings, but you don’t dwell on it for too long.

There’s a strange sense of peace you feel throughout your travels that’s foreign to you. Whether it’s camping out underneath the stars or scaling a rocky cliffside, you’ve never felt more attuned to yourself than now. You gradually discover more about yourself that you otherwise would have never known. You like stargazing even more after seeing the expanse of the night sky and all its stars for the first time without the light pollution of the city. You like to swim, as demonstrated when you dove headfirst into a river for the first time and felt the cool waters wash over your skin. You’re decently skilled with a bow and arrow after Tighnari gives you some lessons and his old bow to keep yourself safe on your travels.

Most importantly, you discover how to find happiness by yourself. After being told your whole life what you could and couldn’t do, being able to take control of your life was a liberating feeling.

You end up seeing Alhaitham quite a bit during this time. Strangely enough, he was always one of the first people you’d see returning back to Sumeru City. He’d always give you a subtle nod when he noticed you staring at him before leaving. Sometimes, he’d even be there to wish you a safe trip- no, not sometimes- almost all of the time. It’s basically a given that he’ll be there to see you off at this point. How he hears about it every time, you have no idea but you aren’t complaining.

“Leaving early as always, I see. Where to this time, (Name)?”

You pause from checking your supplies to see Alhaitham standing behind you.

“I’m heading down to Gandharva Ville to spend some time in the rainforest. But you’re up this early just to wish me a safe trip? I didn’t take you for a morning person.”

“I’m not. But someone should see you off each time, and if your parents won’t do it, then I will.”

“Y-You… how did you know?”

“Know what?” he asks while stepping around to help you with your bag. “All I know is that I’ve never seen them send you off or welcome you back.”

“So be it then,” you grumble. “It’s not as if I care.”

So he doesn’t know about our strained relationship yet, you muse to yourself. That’s surprising, considering how big mother and father’s social circle is…

“You’re all set now. Best you head off before it gets too hot.”

“I will. You take care as well.”

He watches you leave through the city gates until you’re no longer in sight. A rare expression of longing crosses his face then and only after lingering for a few more moments (with his eyes trained on where you once were) does he leave.

He was lying when he pretended to be unaware of your family situation. When you’re hailed as one of the best scholars in recent times in a land that has a borderline fanatical dedication to academics, everything pertaining to you will be scrutinized and monitored. Your sudden decision to leave Sumeru for extended periods of time, and the way your parents refused to talk about you or changed the topic whenever you came up… it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

For your sake, Alhaitham hopes you would return later rather than sooner so you wouldn’t have to hear what was being said about you.

“You seem to have gotten good at this,” he remarks over coffee and desserts when you return several weeks later. Alhaitham notices you’ve put on some muscle. There are some new scars and the bow slung on your back is an unfamiliar sight as well. “You would be a perfect candidate for the Adventurer’s Guild.”

You laugh. “Nah, it’s not for me. As much as I enjoy traveling, I don’t think I could earn my living through it, plus I won’t be able to keep it up once I’m all old and wrinkly.”

“Tell me about your adventures though. Where did you go?”

Your eyes light up and you begin rambling excitedly about your travels. You go into great detail about your time spent in the Avidya Forest and your spontaneous decision to travel to Liyue, which catches him off-guard.

“Liyue?” he repeats when you mention it. “So that’s why you were gone for several weeks instead of days. I’ve never been there before. Tell me, what was it like?”

Your smile grows even bigger and your eyes may as well have been stars from how brightly they were shining.

“Oh, you should’ve seen the architecture- actually, wait, I should be telling Kaveh this- but it was so pretty! The food was super good too and a friend I made shared some of her recipes with me. I have a feeling that you’ll like them so I can teach you some other time! Ooh, and you can’t miss the scenery for the world! Personally, my favorite was…”

You’re so caught up in reliving and telling your adventures that you fail to miss the fond look in his eyes and the rare hint of a smile that stretches across his face.

You’re halfway through recounting your way back home through the Chasm when you happen to glance at the clock and the realization begins to set in.

“I have to get going now,” you explain as you hurriedly gather your belongings. “I’m meeting up with some other friends in a bit. But thanks for the coffee and sweets. Hopefully, I’ll see you around again sometime soon?”

The chime above the door jingles as you rush outside and Alhaitham is left alone with his thoughts. With a deep sigh, he takes a look out the window and decides to address the thoughts about you that have been on his mind lately.

You’re annoying, there’s no doubt about that. You love to push his buttons and purposefully irritate him. You’re an overachiever and you care too much about what other people think. For the longest time, your whole personality consisted of your academic accomplishments and nothing else. You’re a people pleaser and you long for acceptance and praise from others- two things he thinks are utterly useless coming from other people. The moment someone questions your abilities, regardless of who it is, you begin to second-guess yourself and waver. Ridiculous, in his opinion. You know your worth and skills better than anyone else, so why are you letting their baseless accusations affect you? You’re easily affected by rumors and your self-worth is determined by what others think of you.

But you have a warm and welcoming demeanor that’s rare in the cutthroat halls of the Akademiya that draws others to you like a moth to a flame. You enjoy traveling and you have a major soft spot for animals, especially cats. Whenever you’re in the city, you always stop to pet all the strays roaming around, no matter how long it takes. You enjoy sweets- not the overly cloying kind, but the ones that have a touch of sweetness to the point where you can just taste it. Your favorite dessert is the Padisarah Pudding sold in the Grand Bazaar and he’s stopped by so often that the vendor knows his name, face, and order by now. You’re more of a tea person than a coffee person, but he has your coffee order memorized just in case (iced, with two sugars, a splash of milk, and rosewater) and he’s the one that has been mysteriously supplying your favorite tea whenever it’s running low. He notices you like to ramble about things you’re passionate about (and he willingly- gladly- listens too).

And he’s come to realize that maybe you’re not as insufferable as he thought you were. You have a brilliant mind and you’re one of the few that isn’t put off by his blunt nature. You don’t just tolerate him- you appreciate him, flaws and everything.

You’ve always been envious of him- he’s known that ever since he met you. Because of him, you have strived to prove yourself as better in all aspects. A stupid rivalry is what it started off as with your pride getting the best of both of you. But throughout these three years, you’ve only brought out the best in each other.

At this point, he doesn’t feel complete without you.

He’s well aware of the question hanging over people’s minds whenever they see the both of you together. You are the sun, the golden child of your parents who are renowned within the Akademiya and held to the highest level of scrutiny. Their judging gazes, eyes that fixate on every move of yours, comments whispered behind your back- you take them all in stride. Meanwhile, Alhaitham’s presence is glossed over when you’re there. To many, he is just another Akademiya student that they will see in passing and forget about immediately. In that aspect, he is the moon that hides from others. Those who were acquainted with his parents or his late grandmother may recognize him and speak with him, but he mostly goes unnoticed and ignored.

But free from the prying eyes of others, Alhaitham is able to sleep peacefully at night. Your fitful sleep, on the other hand, is plagued with dreams of what-ifs and the looming fear of disappointment from others. You’ve always succeeded, not because you craved success, but because you feared failure and how others would react.

The rising moon admires the sun because of the boundless love they receive from others. On the other hand, the setting sun is envious of the moon for his sweetest dreams that they can only long for.

You enter your third year with a sense of apprehension that wasn’t there before. Your high hopes for yourself are still there, but they’ve been dashed considerably. But despite your lack of ambition now and your experiences from last year, you still (attempt to) throw yourself into your studies, knowing that this year is where the challenge begins. Your first two years were just warmups, or nothing, according to your parents.

Your first few weeks go well, but before you know it, you find yourself lost and overwhelmed by the material.

I… don’t understand any of this. But how could this be? I’ve spent so much time.

Your test scores don’t reflect your efforts either.

45%. 50%. 63% 67%. 55%. 38%.

“Damn it!”

You slam your fist onto your desk table as the results of another failed test greet you. You had spent so much time preparing for this one, only for your efforts to be rewarded with a slap to the face.

You can’t keep going like this. You need help, and desperately at that, but you can’t bring yourself to ask for it.

You’re smarter than everyone else, you don’t need help, a familiar voice comes into your mind. You’re the pride and joy of our family because of your grades. Don’t let us down now.

You look out the window, the heat still simmering in your stomach.

“What a load of bullshit.”

“... I saw your test scores earlier today.”

You glare at Alhaitham with poison in your gaze that was never there until now. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he feels strangely uneasy, like his body is warning him to stop.

“And? Here to mock me for it?”

“No. On the contrary, I want to offer you my help.”

Oh, the humiliation. Look at how far you’ve fallen.

“Forget it,” you snap. “I don’t need your help.”

You get up and leave, slamming the doors shut behind you. It echoes through the House of Daena and the other students there turn to stare at Alhaitham in silent shock. He’s stunned too. Although you can have quite the sharp tongue at times, you’ve never lashed out at him like that before.

A few weeks later, the results of another test are announced. Alhaitham’s name sits at the top like it always has. His name is on everyone’s tongue as they jealously grumble over the results once again. His eyes examine the list, searching for one name in particular, until he finds yours at the bottom of it.

He pauses, then turns around in time to see you storming out. He doesn’t miss the looks your classmates give you- mocking, ridiculing, scornful, and disgusted sneers that relish in your downfall. The jealous grumbles about him now turn into titters and sneering whispers with your name now being trampled upon by those that used to extol your virtues. It’s all noise and it grates his ears until he can’t stand it anymore.

“What a waste of time.”

The noise stops and everyone turns to look at him.

“You all have the energy to complain about your own scores while making a laughing stock of someone else. It’d be better spent on improving your own scores- unless you’re just that incompetent?”

Later that night as you’re studying, you get a message from your parents through your Akasha. It’s the first time you’ve gotten anything from them all year. After hesitating, you open the message.

It’s short and simple but your heart sinks and your temper flares after reading it. You rip your Akasha Terminal off and toss it to the side.

Don’t come home this year.

“I need your help. I’m asking for a friend.”

Alhaitham looks over his book at you. It’s the first time he’s seen you all week and to be frank, you look awful. Your hair is a mess, your uniform is wrinkled, and your skin looks dry and dull.

“Do I know them? If not, then I won’t help.”

You roll your eyes and throw your hands up exasperatedly. “Ok fine, yes, you know them.”

“Well, why won’t they just ask me themselves? Why trouble you?”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter right now. Just answer the damn question.”

He leans back and knowingly looks at you.

“They’re going through a tough time right now,” you explain, choosing each of your words carefully. “They aren’t doing good in their classes and they’re trying to get back on track, but they don’t know how to.”

“... This is for you, isn’t it?”

Damn, he saw right through you. Were you that obvious?

Alhaitham goes back to reading his book. “I can’t say I would be of any use here. After all, I’ve never been in that position nor would I let myself get there.”

You feel your temper flare once more. You clench your jaw and try to reign in your anger before speaking to him.

“Well, duh. You’re also not helping either.”

“Really? I think it’s a perfectly reasonable answer.”

“Put yourself in my shoes for once, would you?”

He sets his book down and looks at you.

“You asked me for my advice and I told you what I would do in that situation. I don’t understand why you’re getting upset.”

“That’s because it’s not the answer I’m looking for!”

“That’s on you for expecting others to somehow know what you want without telling them.”

“You-!”

You groan and run your hands through your hair. Is it just you or is he being more insufferable today? Can’t he read the room for once?

He continues. “If you wanted someone to only tell you what you wanted to hear, a mirror would be a better audience.”

“Alhaitham, all I’m asking from you is a little empathy. Is that so hard to have?”

“And is it so hard for you to stop throwing a hissy fit just because I didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear?”

His words are all spite and knives meant to hurt. They lack the usual lighthearted tone he has with you. You feel it coming- the barbed words that are poised to strike and cut deep, but it doesn’t help when he begins speaking again.

“You asked for my help and I gave you advice. You’re not in a position to be complaining here.”

“Yeah, well, your ‘advice’ isn’t what most people would consider as help.”

He scoffs and looks away before looking at you once more- like he’s looking down on you, you realize. There’s something akin to disgust and impatience in his gaze that makes you freeze despite all your sharp words earlier.

“How irrational could you be? You reject everyone’s help even though you need it and you don’t listen to anybody’s suggestions. You’re too caught up in the conception that you’re always right and everyone else is always wrong. You’re childish, (Name), that’s what you are. You’re like a child still naive and ignorant, content with playing with their toys and games and ignoring reality. You’re not cut out for the Akademiya. You never were.”

He laughs and now you realize just how much it hurts when it’s directed toward you.

“And you’re telling me that my ego is overinflated. No wonder you’re failing everything. Archons, (Name), you’re utterly hopeless. What did I ever see in you?”

The silence that fills the space afterward is enough to make Alhaitham immediately regret his words. You angrily glare at him and Alhaitham’s heart sinks when he recognizes the emotion present in your eyes.

Utter hate.

“... For all these years, I've heard so many rumors about you but chose to brush them off,” you begin. “I was so stupid! I should have listened to them! They say you’re cold and heartless and only now do I realize that they were right. They say you’re not human from how cruel you are- archons, dammit! Look at me!”

The sudden demand makes Alhaitham nervously glance toward you after avoiding your gaze this entire time. You sniff and wipe away the few tears that managed to spill over. Losing your composure in front of him, the perfect and poised genius, was already humiliating enough, but you hold his gaze long enough to let him see. Let him witness the results of his own actions and the prospect of losing someone he cared about (all over again).

“You’re an absolutely horrible person, Alhaitham. I hope you remember this.”

Alhaitham. It’s the first time you’ve used his full name ever since you befriended him and the implications of it sting.

He reaches out toward you. “Wait-”

You slap his hand away.

“No, we’re done here. I thought you could at least understand, but you’re just as uncaring and self-centered as everyone else here. And I once thought that you were better than anyone else here, but only now do I realize how stupid I was."

You laugh sardonically one last time.

“My parents were right. They would have been so much happier if you were their child.”

Alhaitham doesn’t see you again for several weeks after that. It’s as if you’re purposefully avoiding him and it gets to a point where he’s beginning to get concerned about your health and safety.

Currently, he’s meeting with Tighnari. Out of everyone, the fox hybrid had the highest chance of knowing with his keen sense of hearing.

“I’m concerned about (Name).”

Tighnari’s ears twitch in response.

“They aren’t the same person anymore. You’ve seen it too.”

The fox hybrid sadly nods. “They’ve been consumed by rage and self-hate. I see it in their eyes and the way they lash out. They’re angry at themselves and at everyone around them and it’s completely understandable considering the situation and the response of those they trusted most. Still, it’s not healthy if they continue like this. Speaking of which, were they always this temperamental?”

Alhaitham shakes his head. “No. To be clear, they’ve always had a sharp tongue but it was always lighthearted. They only started getting truly angry this year.”

“Lashing out or displaying signs of anger is often a common symptom of burnout. I’m fairly confident that’s what (Name) has. Specifically, academic burnout. But I’m sure you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Alhaitham uncomfortably avoids Tighnari’s prying eyes.

Tighnari’s eyes narrow. “Look, (Name) is a great friend to me as well, but why are you telling me about this? You’re in their Darshan so shouldn’t you know more?”

“I haven’t heard anything about them either. I got concerned after they didn’t show up at the library for a week. From what I’ve heard, they haven’t been showing up to class either for the past few weeks, which is strange for them. I’m asking around- maybe I’ll find something out that way.”

Tighnari shakes his head. “Sadly, I don’t know why either. If it helps, some people have said they haven’t even seen them. Not just at the library or at class but in general. It’s almost as if they’ve just… disappeared.”

There’s a moment of silence that passes between them. Tighnari stares at Alhaitham curiously and he rests his chin on his hands.

Alhaitham doesn’t have a good feeling about this…

“Speaking of which, does the fight from earlier have anything to do with this?”

“You knew?”

“Please. When two of my closest friends get into an argument as big as that, I’m bound to find out eventually. So, did it have anything to do with this?”

“... Yes,” he admits. “I feel guilty and I want to apologize to them.”

“Well, better late than never,” grumbles Tighnari under his breath. The stink eye he sends his way doesn’t go unnoticed by Alhaitham.

“Why do you care for them so much?”

The question comes out of nowhere and leaves him reeling.

“I suppose it’s… because I consider them a friend?”

Archons, that answer sounds even more pathetic out loud than it did in his head and Tighnari knows it.

Tighnari heaves a long sigh that makes Alhaitham pause.

“You absolute lummox!” he snaps. “I always knew you were somewhat emotionally constipated but I didn’t think you’d be this dense…”

He suddenly stands up and stares the ashen-haired male in the eye, his tone softer this time.

“You’re in love with them, Alhaitham. That’s what you’ve been feeling lately.”

Alhaitham immediately scoffs. “No, that can’t possibly be-”

“You, who hates sharing what you consider yours, share your notes with them.”

“It’s a win-win situation for both of us. We’re in the same Darshan and we’ll be able to learn better from each other.”

“But them, specifically, when there are countless others that would kill for the chance to learn from you?”

“They can figure the material out themselves. Plus, I stand to gain no benefit from what they have to offer.”

“What, so only (Name) can keep up with you?”

“Precisely.”

Tighnari sees the opening Alhaitham has created and takes advantage of it.

“Are you sure that you’re still rivals? Even though (Name) is…”

“Of course. It’s been like that since day one.”

“Huh, that’s interesting. Because from what I know, academic rivals don’t go out to lunch together. They don’t go stargazing even though a certain someone finds it mind-numbingly boring. They don’t sneak out past curfew and break Akademiya rules on a daily basis, and they certainly don’t spend hefty chunks of Mora to make the other happy.”

Tighnari has Alhaitham backed into a corner and he knows it.

“Kaveh knows as well.”

“And?”

“And you still let yourself get roped into his schemes to make them happy. Look, I know this isn’t a good time to bring him up considering…”

He gestures at the empty space, a silent indication of Kaveh and Alhaitham’s broken friendship.

“But there’s no denying that Kaveh did and still does care about you. Why else would he be willing to put in so much time and effort to make them happy? Because in addition to being their friend, he knows that when they’re happy, you are as well. And if that doesn’t mean something, then, I don’t know what else does.”

“We’re just friends,” he argues once again. Tighnari glares at him.

“You’re an idiot to think it doesn’t go deeper than that. You also saw them off every single time during the summer.”

“That’s what friends do. Besides, their parents should have-”

“Uh-huh. Go on, keep lying to yourself like that. Do I have to hit you over the head with a brick in order for you to realize your own feelings? You’re sounding like a broken record here.”

“I-”

“There’s no use in denying or lying to us, Alhaitham. We’re your friends, after all. But the one who’s going to have to decide what to do next is you.”

He gets up and gives Alhaitham a pat on the shoulder. Before leaving, he looks at him one last time.

“It’s going to hurt even more when you lose them for good. You’ll only wish you could have done something sooner. But I think you already know that by now, right, Alhaitham?”

“Do you know where (Name) is?”

It’s a rare occasion today- Alhaitham actually showed up for class. But it wasn’t to listen to whatever the professor had to say- no, it was to ask your classmates where you went. He’s been trying every day to find you, but only to no avail.

He’s gained some valuable information, however. Your roommate moved out a while ago, leaving you the sole occupant of your dorm room. He also managed to find your dorm room number after asking some of your “friends”, who after relentless prying, reluctantly opened up.

“I can’t say for sure, but I heard they’re in the hospital. They somehow ended up there over the weekend.”

“The hospital?” he repeats. “Do you know why?”

“No idea. Sorry.”

He shows up at the Birmarstan after the class ends, fully expecting to see you. He gives the nurse his name and a few minutes later, she returns with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, but the patient is not accepting visitors at this time.”

A slight pause. Barely perceptible.

“I see.”

You look at the window to see Alhaitham’s retreating form. The nurse enters your room a few minutes later and crosses her arms.

“He’s the first person who’s asked to visit you ever since you came in. I’m surprised- I thought you’d get more. Most people usually do.”

You pull the covers over your head and roll over. Such is the way of life in the Akademiya. Friendships were formed out of convenience as a way to climb up the ladder later in life. As soon as you were no longer useful or fell from grace like you did, others were quick to abandon you without a second thought.

So why did Alhaitham visit then? To you, your relationship (as enemies? Friends? Or even…) was built solely on how you could assist each other, and nothing more. By your prior logic, there is no logical reason why he should visit you.

Unless…

“Is there any reason why you didn’t want to see him in particular?”

Even if your hypothesis proved to be true, it doesn’t excuse or undo the hurt he caused.

“He’s the last person I want to see right now.”

A few days after being discharged from Birmarstan, there’s a knock from the door that wakes you up from your sleep. Still disoriented, you look up and roll over, opting to ignore it and go back to sleep.

The knocking continues. You cover your ear with a pillow and squeeze your eyes shut even more.

“I know you’re there, (Name). Several people told me so.”

Shit, it’s the last person you want to see right now. Your mood sours instantly and now you’re fully awake.

“What do you want?” you snap.

“I just want to talk.”

It doesn’t seem like he’ll be going away anytime soon, so you get up, kicking the trash that litters the floor to the side, and carefully cracking open the door. He looks down to see you. You pull the sleeves of your shirt down as he does so.

“Can I come in?”

You look behind at the mess that is your dorm.

“... It’s not exactly clean right now.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

You flick the lights on and hide the worst of the trash underneath your bed. He follows you, his gaze traveling around the room. He notices the side with the unoccupied bed is considerably cleaner (that must have been your roommate’s before they moved out, he reasons) and your desk looks like it hasn’t been used in a while. He takes a seat at it and examines the table. Your Akasha Terminal is lying in the corner and collecting dust. Your textbook is open to a section that was taught a while ago and it looks like you just started taking notes.

(Although, the frustrated scribbles that occupy most of the page have him concerned. Additionally, certain parts of the paper are wrinkled, as if they have dried after getting wet. The shape and spot where they are concentrated in is another cause for concern as well. Were you… crying?)

You pull the covers over your form and glare at him.

“Well? What did you want to tell me?”

“I’m sorry.”

You pause, then shake your head.

“That alone won’t be enough.”

“I know. And that’s why-”

He gulps, his voice shaking toward the end. It’s just a simple apology, so why is he so nervous?

(But deep down he knows the real answer: this is his last chance to ask you for forgiveness before losing you for good. And it was the thought of losing you, the one that had managed to worm their way into his heart and appreciate him that scared him the most.)

“I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t have said those things back then. I should have been more understanding of your struggles and, like you said, had some more empathy. I realize that I am far from an ideal friend in many people’s eyes and if you feel the same, I will not hold that against you.”

His chest tightens and he subconsciously looks away.

“I’m aware of how people see me- valuing logic above all with a mind fueled by equations and facts over feelings. A genius with no regard or need for others. But I’m still human. I feel regret and remorse the same way as anyone else. I know when I’ve messed up and when I need to apologize. Now is one of those times, more than ever.”

You turn around and open the blinds, letting the light flood the room before sitting back down, watching him carefully.

“I don’t want to forgive you. Do you have any idea how long your words lingered for?”

The words sting Alhaitham. Your voice shakes and you feel the familiar burning sensation in your eyes.

“But I know you. I know your bluntness and sharp tongue. You often say hurtful things but don’t mean them. You’re stubborn and slow when it comes to apologizing, even if the guilt eats away at you. You don’t wear your heart on your sleeve and you’re not one to dish out praises, leading others to believe that you’re cold and unsympathetic.”

You suddenly lean in, staring into the eyes that had kept you awake at night for so long. His eyes widen slightly and you smile faintly to yourself.

“But I like to think that I’ve gotten to know you a bit. You show that you care with your actions, not your words, but that takes time- time that most people aren’t willing to give because of their first impression of you. You take the time to learn about the people you care about and prefer acts of service to words of affirmation and physical touch as your love language. You show that you care in a way of your own.

“So yes. I forgive you.”

Alhaitham finds himself sighing with relief. Yet a question still lingers in the back of his mind.

“Why?”

And there it is again, for the first time in a long time. Your smile. It’s a little stiff and awkward, as if you haven’t smiled in a long time, but it’s undoubtedly yours.

“The same reason. I missed you too.”

And now begins the uncomfortable process of recovery.

“How long were you gone for?”

“... Longer than I’d like to admit. Catching up is going to be a difficult task, isn’t it?”

“I won’t sugarcoat it; you’ve missed a lot.” Alhaitham flips through your books and notes from prior years. “However, you have a strong foundation from your earlier years. That should help you. But first, let me ask you a few questions so I can outline a study plan for you.”

You raise your eyebrows at his statement.

“You’re taking this quite seriously, aren’t you?”

“Naturally,” he replies. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Knowing you, you’re not the kind of person to go out of your way for others,” you grumble. “So going to such lengths just for me…”

“You discredit me if you think that I would do that. But why do you think you felt burnt-out in the first place?”

You look out the window and think for a bit.

“... I think it’s because of my own pride. Had I asked for help earlier on, I have a feeling I wouldn’t be in this position, or things would be better, at least,” you admit.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”

You sigh and hold your hands out in defeat. “You surely know more than you’re letting on. But I think it’s also because I never learned how to study.”

Alhaitham pauses at that. “Really?”

There’s no mockery or derision in his question- just curiosity.

“People goaded me on as a gifted child and I was expected to somehow know how to do everything perfectly the first time, you know? It’s just how things were.”

“Well, that’s something we can fix for sure.”

Your first few days back are the worst. Whispers and stares follow you wherever you go and your professors, who once showered you with praises, look at you strangely or even ignore you.

“Don’t mind them,” he says when he notices you sulking in the library later that day. “You and I both know that’s just the way the Akademiya is. We’ll see who gets the last laugh.”

Much to the envy of your classmates, he also personally tutors you in all your classes. He accompanies you to all your classes (even the ones he isn’t taking) and sits in on them, whispering and writing little notes of clarification and elaboration.

Bit by bit, you see your scores slowly improve. Alhaitham teaches you an array of study techniques, many of which have been personally vetted by him.

“Try each of them out,” he says. “Different techniques work for different people. There is something out there that works for you.”

He’s able to bear witness to the fruits of your labor one day when he hears your excited footsteps running toward him.

“Haitham, look!”

You practically shove several papers into his face. “I got a perfect score on the latest exam! And guess what? I tied with you, meaning that I also placed first!”

A rare smile, solely reserved for your eyes, creeps onto his face.

“Good job. Your score is well-deserved after all the hard work you’ve been putting in.”

He sees it now. Slowly but surely, you’re regaining bits and pieces of your old self. You’ll never be exactly who you once were, but that’s ok. You’ll pick the broken yet salvageable parts up and put them together to create something new yet still distinctly you.

He only looks forward to seeing what you’ll become in the future.

You’ve finally graduated.

It’s a joyous occasion today, filled with speeches, hugs, and promises to keep in touch. Families and friends crowd outside the Akademiya to congratulate their loved ones. The diploma in your hands and the cords around your shoulders are a sign of your achievements and your persistence despite all the roadblocks you faced along the way.

Your heart feels simultaneously burdened and relieved. You had graduated squarely in the middle of the class. You knew it was something to be proud of, yet that part of your former self that you could never suppress couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

Not that it really bothered you anyway. When you walked across the stage to the smattering of applause accompanying your name, you had immediately locked eyes with Alhaitham in the crowd. He was clapping, but what caught your attention the most was the smile he sent your way. It wasn’t one of his once in a blue moon microscopic ones.

No. It was one where you could see a sliver of his teeth and where the edges of his eyes crinkled from it, the sight of which sent your heart ablaze. There was pride in his gaze and in that moment, you felt as if everything had been worth it- even if it wasn’t the outcome you expected.

And when he walked across the stage, you were the one to clap for him the loudest.

You push your way through the heavy crowds, searching for one person in particular. He’s not anywhere in the crowd, so you head down the walkway and there you see him. He’s waiting for you with a large bouquet of flowers in his arms.

“Took you long enough,” he remarks. Alhaitham holds out the flowers to you and you accept them gratefully.

“Oh, you remembered my favorite flowers!” you exclaim as you examine the bouquet. “I have something for you as well.”

You hand him an envelope and he eyes it curiously when a voice interrupts you.

“(Name).”

You hear an awkward cough behind you and you turn to see your parents. They stand there awkwardly, fidgeting with their hastily-purchased bouquet of flowers that pales in comparison to what Alhaitham got you.

(You don’t even like the kind of flowers your parents got for you and you’ve told them that before…)

“Congratulations on gradu-”

“Oh, you must be Alhaitham!”

Your mother’s sudden remark takes all of you by surprise. She rushes forward and eagerly shakes his hand.

“I’ve heard so much about you! You just graduated and you’ve already made a name for yourself in Sumeru as a genius! How incredible is that? Ah, if only my child here could learn from you, but they’ve already graduated, so it’s a little too late for that now…”

You bite your lip and look away. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Alhaitham. He retracts his hand.

“It was nice to meet you. We’ll be taking our leave now.”

“We’ll?”

Alhaitham ignores them in favor of holding your hand and leading you away.

“I think a celebration is in order. The owner of the stall that sells your favorite Padisarah Pudding is offering us free dessert today.”

The heaviness that was hanging over you just a moment ago is now gone.

“Free desserts? I’m in!”

“Then it’s settled.”

Later that night, Alhaitham remembers the letter you gave him earlier and pulls it out. He glances at the clock. There’s still time before he has to leave and meet up with you.

Dear Alhaitham,

Thank you for being by my side throughout these four years when no one else was. I owe my entire academic career to you. Perhaps even my entire life. I don’t know if I’d be writing this letter if it weren’t for you.

When I saw you on the first day, I wondered what you were doing here. You were short, scrawny, and shy back then. I thought you were one of those child prodigies. Who knew you’d turn out to be the buff man skilled with the sword that I know today…

Honestly, I didn’t think that you would help me. You were the envy of our class, unlike me. I wouldn’t be surprised and I wouldn’t blame you if all that praise got to your head. I guess I didn’t know you well enough back then, though, because you defied all of my expectations. Not only did you not care for status or fame, you also took time out of your own day (which I know you hate doing) for me.

You really are an enigma, Haitham. You’re a person with several layers and hidden secrets like an intricately-designed mechanism. But I think that’s one of the reasons that drew me to you. Everyone has their own secrets and burdens. By slowly learning more about each other, you learn more about yourself.

You and I, we are inseparable now. Earlier today, I had someone come up to me and ask where you were. They were surprised that you weren’t next to me like always. At first glance, we seem more different than similar, especially with our contrasting personalities. But take a closer look and they’ll see that we share more in common than in differences. Opposites attract, but similarities bind.

Like those dusty old philosophers and figures that we had to learn about in class, we are parallels of each other. You are simultaneously my biggest critic and supporter. My biggest rival and confidant. My biggest headache and source of comfort.

But most importantly, you are my biggest friend.

Remember that one night where I asked you what you wished for? You had said that you wanted to keep talking to me regardless of how things turned out in the future. I didn’t really have a response at the time, but now I finally do.

My wish is selfish. I wish for you to stay the way you are. A little arrogant, blunt, curious, and caring in your own way. Because I can’t imagine a future without you in it now.

With all my love,

(Name)

The house is too quiet for Alhaitham’s liking. He appreciates silence when working and Kaveh’s incessant noise from working on projects at midnight is downright irritating, but there is a time and place for everything.

Now is not that time. Thamina is sleeping on the cushion next to him. Kaveh is out in a meeting with a client (for once) and you’re-

“I’m home!”

Speak of the devil, there you are. Thamina’s eyes open and she jumps off the cushion to greet you with a loud meow and a head rub against your legs. Alhaitham takes his headphones off and sets his book down before getting up to greet you after a long journey back from Mondstadt. You’re tired, your uniform is wrinkled, and your Kamera has been hastily shoved back into its case, but Alhaitham has never been more grateful to see you.

“Missed me?”

“You’ve been gone for too long,” he grumbles before pulling you into a tight hug and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Love, it was only for a month!”

“My point still stands.”

You scrunch your face up and eventually manage to wiggle your way out of his grasp. It’s been a few years since you’ve graduated. Alhaitham has dutifully taken on the responsibilities of the Akademiya’s Scribe while you now work as a reporter for a newspaper company. You love the job because it puts your Haravatat degree to good use and you get paid to travel, although you don’t like the part of being away from Alhaitham for extended periods of time.

“Are you still up for dinner and dessert even though it’s getting late?”

“At my favorite place?”

“Our favorite place,” he corrects.

“Oh, you like it now as well? Did some of my tastes rub off onto you?”

“The pudding runs I went on for you did that a long time ago.”

Comets are ephemeral in nature. Some of them are only seen once and then gone, lost in time and never to be seen again. But occasionally, in a twist of fate, they can be rediscovered although it may take hundreds or even thousands of years for them to return.

That comet he had wished upon several years ago had finally returned to him.

#oh. my god #yeah i'm fine i'm ok im fine (im not)#where do i even BEGIN with a masterpiece like this??#the way you write is so beautiful and digestible and just... god wow #the characterization and the interactions they're all so spot on #'whether you will go out with a bang or fade into obscurity is something only time will tell'#➡️ god. head in hands. crying. sobbing.#the recurring theme of comets and stars is so beautiful and the way you use it to describe burn out is incredible #this piece hits close to home and it's so deeply relatable that i felt my heart drop #alhaitham is just so well written in this #the way he balances between actively keeping the reader's feelings in mind while also not being able to control his sharp tongue #AND the observational skills when reader doesn't think he knows what's up but he does ...#why isn't he real why can't i marry him why why why why i love him and i LOVE the way you wrote him #genuinely i don't know if a fic has ever resonated with me so much #i'm both hurt but also comforted at the same time #this is my alhaitham kisser coming out fic now (i formally apologize to ellie for calling him ugly)#can we talk about tighnari/kaveh/lisa gossip club please they're so funny #and CYNO being tighnari's dog making sure no one gets too loud around him i love them so much #little details sprinkled into this story that just crack me up yet don't take away from how heavy the theme is #this is a 10/10 like actually. my new comfort fic. /srs #thank you for writing this and encapsulating what mine and what i imagine is a lot of other people's experiences in such a beautiful story #everyone shut up and read this rn if you can relate to academic burnout 🙏🙏🙏#❀。• *₊°。 soph's favs!#no this is more than a fav this is everything to me 🙁🙁

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