Somewhere in a quiet corner of the Akademiya's library, a bookworm caught the Wanderer's eye. After an unexpected encounter, she unknowingly begins to unravel five hundred years of solitude. Wanderer is unsure how to feel about that.
Wanderer never saw himself as the type to pry or meddle, but something recent has stirred an unwelcome curiosity.
It all started when one of the other students came up to him, asking for a moment of his precious time. He was fully prepared to tell them to scram, when they clarified that it’s a matter concerning you.
Outright agreeing to a conversation that will likely amount to nothing but trivial gossip is beneath him.
So he just waits for the scholar to continue talking.
“About that person you’ve been hanging around…”, the concerned student started carefully, contemplating their words, “People have seen her act weirdly.”
“Elaborate”, he says with annoyance in his tone, his arms folded over his chest.
“I don’t know how to phrase it properly…”, the student says. They must have sensed his impatience, ending their hesitation with a hurried, “Just beware that she’s a bit… disconnected from reality.”
You had never gone out of your way to hide your oddness, anyone who spent as much as a minute in earshot of your speaking can attest to that. That student is not only wasting their own time, but also his by trying to gossip under the pretense of concern.
The whispers along the Akademiya halls have always been uninteresting to him. One has to have a monotonous life and be remarkably intrusive to partake in those.
But somehow his mind still wouldn’t rest.
So he started investigating.
“I think she just… lives in her own world. Some people think she’s weird, but she’s actually been really nice whenever I talk to her”, a student who wants to seem oh so nice says.
“Her? She hardly belongs into the Akademiya. I get that some people talk to themselves but this girl is crazy, she talks nonsense into the air and acts like it responded. It can be really creepy sometimes”, some arrogant student that has a really stompable face says.
“I don’t know what to make of her, honestly. She’s normal… until she starts talking about something that makes only sense to her”, a student that is apparently too dull to understand the action of thinking out loud says. It might be annoying but it’s no groundbreaking concept.
He’s walking the hall to exit the Akademiya, letting all the accounts of the different students run through his head. The pointed rhythm that some of the students talked with earlier is like a patting in his head, getting louder and louder until—
He stumbles a few steps backwards.
“Sorry, sorry– are you okay?”, you frantically ask him. You just bumped into him. The sight is almost cute, you sitting on the floor, rubbing the side of your head, slight furrow of your brows, pained whine, what was he thinking again?
He doesn’t even tilt his head down as he crosses his arms and eyes you like he’s above you— which he kind of is, in the most literal sense possible.
“Do I look hurt?”, he asks flatly.
You tilt your head to the side, taking a proper look at him and then answering with an unsure, dragged out, “…No?”
He’s unscathed, not even a scratch on his porcelain skin. Of course you’d think a mere collision like that would injure him.
Your eyes focus on something far behind him. Come to think of it, you were running after something before you unceremoniously fell.
He turns to see an Aranara waving something around. So you can see the Aranara, and apparently this is not the first time, judging by the earlier students’ words.
He hears stirring from where you were sat, his sharp gaze falls back on you as you stumble back onto your feet.
“Hey, get back here–“, you yell, glaring at the forest spirit as you motion to chase after it again.
Only for him to quickly grip onto your wrist, preventing you from doing so.
“You just fell and hit your head”, he states flatly, “You will not be chasing after an Aranara.”
Your eyes flicker between Wanderer and the far forest spirit, the urge to capture it written all over your face.
“But that stupid raddish thing has stolen my bookmark”, you whine in protest, “Since when do you get concerned anyways?”
“You can just buy a new one at the Bazaar”, he says, the grip on your arm not loosening at all.
Humans are fragile and he’s dealing with a stubborn one at that.
So unbelievably stubborn, in fact, that he is now being seen dashing over unassuming students’ heads in the Akademiya halls, hunting down a mischievous Aranara for a nuisance of a bookmark. Worst of all, the other students don’t see the teal pest, making them think he’s just as out of mind as you are.
At some point, he almost caught it when it suddenly took a left. The loud thud of his feet meeting the wall coupled with the instant breeze following his acceleration startled some students. You’d think there’s a fight or something.
He glances back just to make sure none of the students were accidentally harmed, then immediately continues his pursuit.
The forest spirit hit a dead end, making it effectively impossible for it to escape. Still, Wanderer tackles it full force, making sure it won’t find a way to slip past him and yet shielding it from the fall with his body. He doesn’t half-ass things.
He stands up swiftly, holding the Aranara with one hand and prying the bookmark out of its clutches with his other.
He takes a closer look at it. “Nilotpala Teashop, White Tea: 120 Mora, Thank you for your purchase!"
The temptation to drop the ‘bookmark’ again is hard to resist.
You really made him speed through the entire Akademiya for a crumpled receipt. How irritating.
And just then, you finally round the corner, head in the clouds as always, if your look is anything to go by. At least, until the Aranara meets your eye.
“Oh, you caught it!”, you clasp your hands together in delight, then pluck the bookmark from him like you’d pluck the petal of a pretty flower. You look at him like he’s all pretty, too.
“Next time”, he starts, his exasperation evident in the way he almost grumbles his words, “Actually, there won’t be a next time. I’m not going on a pursuit for a piece of trash again.”
You look at him for a beat, then at the receipt. “I guess I’ll be extra careful with it then”, you mumble, putting it back into your book.
Extra careful with a crumpled piece of paper. Utterly ridiculous, considering the slip has no economical value attached to it.
You continue to stare at him holding the Aranara, saying something unbelievably absurd, “The radish looks just like you.”
He lets out an offended noise. “It doesn’t.”
“It’s teal with a big hat. That’s practically your twin”, you insist, eyes flickering between him and the creature like you just reached a life changing conclusion.
“Does that make anemo slimes your twins?”, he shoots back flatly, “Considering you’re an airhead.”
“That’s not nice to say”, you point out with a frown. “Anemo slimes are cute. Does that mean you’re calling me cute too?”
The way you blink at him almost makes him want to agree. Almost.
He sighs and averts his gaze, finally letting go the Aranara. Then he replies, “Your creativity knows no bounds.”
“You didn’t deny it”, you again point out.
His arms cross as he counters, “You didn’t deny being an airhead.”
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