#feliscus

but...he's not sure. after so many birthdays spent with just he and lynette, large parties and family gathered around cake is the odd thing. the greatest gift he could ask for, when so rarely could he ask for gifts at all. but the secret he can never reveal is that lyney needs to recharge just as often as his sister does, weariness long since worn into his bones. and he does it faster—better—when lynette is here. as he does most things.

lyney shakes his head and sinks into a seat, reaching for a conch madeline to chew on. “...nothing. i just thought we could have some tea and snacks together before the day is officially over.” he cracks a small smile, faint, but more genuinely lyney than any other that has graced his lips today. “why don't we just rest tomorrow? we've been working hard, after all. we can get some fried fish from a street vendor—i'll eat just as much as you do, so it should be fine.”

one day, will these quiet, normal birthdays be just out of reach too? another thing lost to the flames of a hearth and the crown he must bear?

that is for the heir to wonder. just for today, a brother simply leans back in his seat and closes his eyes with a content hum, listening to the clockwork count down the minutes until the day ends. “happy birthday, lynette.” i hope all your future birthdays will be happy.

and lynette knows.

when does she not? she knows it is lyney before he even arrives, and alongside the conch madelines she knows exactly which snacks to set out that pair best with the blend he brings—even if, of course, her pate de fruit is not nearly as good as his. his beckon is met with a flick of ears and a drone that nobody but her other half himself could know the fondness in.

“welcome back, lyney.”  silly lyney. big brother lyney. spreads himself thin and thinks he can fool her lyney. lyney, whom she holds most dear—her only truth in a life of falsehoods, even if he vies to leave her behind a little further and further each year. lynette acknowledges his humble offering with a hum, gloved fingers pinching the handle of her prepared cup. it may not be her tea, but it is lyney's. after exhausting himself on his own birthday, he still makes time for this.

lyney is the only one in this world who understands her without a single uttered word; in turn, she is the only one in this world who sees through him every time. all the time. (“of course i can, but this matter is top secret.”) and this time, too.

there is no use in lecturing him. she is not keen on doing it, besides. because lyney is no longer her brother alone, and beyond all of the hearth’s dealings, this is the true price of ‘home’. the world they live in is give and take: when you gain something, you also lose something. you gain food in your stomach and a soldier’s itinerary. you gain a crown of flames and lose a piece of your sister trying to protect her with it; you burn her, the embers dust her cheeks like stars, like teardrops. (and still, she returns to him like the wind that stokes fire. she will return to him every time.)

lynette does not announce herself. soundless, her movements, but that should not startle lyney except when she means to. a quiet snap of her fingers—his hat, wherever he might have laid it, vanishes in a plume of smoke and reappears on her head. she steps before him, arms unfurling like two wings, and leans forward to fold her weary brother within their embrace. no matter how high the tower, no matter how high the throne, she will catch him just like this. this time, too. every time, too.

“i want two skewers.” you need to recharge, right? 

“and then some lakkaberry cake...” it’s alright. rest here.

“for that place we’re headed to next, i hear there’s a local specialty called ‘sweet bun trio’. let’s bring one back to share with freminet.”

as long as i’m with you, they'll always be happy.

lynette’s chin rests atop his head in lieu of any crown. in this moment, at least, they can just be. and before she forgets:

A... puppy?

This-- wait. There's no way that's just a puppy. Right...? A beat of silence passes before Acheron glances down at her script, completely confused as to what's happening. But... She's supposed to follow her lines. Anything less, and she'd be doing both her partner and the audience a disservice. And so, she chooses to go with the flow, and try hard to make any sense of the situation they're in now. "A pet? Surely you're not serious," Acheron speaks in a tone higher than usual, throwing a hand up as a gesture of incredulity. "This one... It's not normal. It..." Violet eyes narrow as she studies the creature's face, and something about it seems ... off. Its dark, beady little eyes hold a bloodlust unlike anything she's seen before, and part of it reminds her of some story she's read in the past. Perhaps it's a shapeshifter, or perhaps it's simply a being full of malice. "The fear that burns inside me will leave me hollow. When I am but a shell of myself, I will have to find something else to fill the void of nothing under my skin. This creation..." Her mouth twists into a grimace, eyes full of a rage that cannot be put into words. Perhaps, with enough prodding, Acheron can be convinced to divulge her persona's trauma with... animals. She thinks. "We're not keeping it. Get rid of that thing. It bears a striking resemblance to a creature that took my Father from me. We had the same eyes, and yet he saw his daughter in the wide black eyes of an animal behind our house. The animal that hurt me, while he did nothing... and when I hurt it, I became nothing."

“oh? i thought i spied a familiar face. why, if it isn't madame kujou sara herself!” certainly, this is a more peaceful reunion than that dream where they once met, though whether it be here or there, the magician beholds her with the same ease he'd performed his tricks for their foes. “i didn't take you for a tea connoisseur.”

a pause, a glance down at the cup in his hand, and then a laugh. “admittedly, i'm not much of one myself—that title ought to belong to my sister. but i thought i'd sample some before i bought any as a gift. anything you recommend?”

⁀➴ LANTERN RITE 2025 !

When she’d first stepped into Liyue, Sara never expected she would be met with so many former companions. It had turned out to be… a most pleasant experience. It was as though fate had finally offered her the long-awaited opportunity for closure—to finally learn what had become of those she had once fought alongside, and those she feared she might never see again.

And indeed, she certainly never imagined she would run into him again. She could still recall how that dreadful dream of theirs had ended. The feeling of being struck down, helplessly watching, praying for Lyney and Robin’s safety… then waking up in her room with a start, forever unsure of what had truly happened to them.

But here he was. Lyney, as vibrant and full of life as ever. The confidence in his words, the certainty in his movements... Sara had always admired it, the way he seemed to command the space around him with such ease.

“I wouldn’t call myself a connoisseur, but tea happens to be an important part of Inazuma’s culture as well.” She did her best not to let it show, but Sara could feel her heart tighten, an overwhelming warmth flooding her chest. It was all that she could do to offer him a small, but most genuine smile.

He is well. Despite the horror they faced in that dream, that awful nightmare that felt all too real, Lyney was well.

Truly, to see him again—alive, well, and radiant—was a boon beyond anything she could have prayed for.

His chuckle grows ever so slightly, a snort held back by a contented sigh. ❝ Is charming me part of your next trick, magician ? ❞ With words as sweet as his anyone would fall right on the palm of his hand. Anyone except Sethos. It would take him more than that to win his favor. ❝ You've been staring at me for quite some time now. Tell me, is there something in your mind ? ❞ Perceptive, is he not ? A natural talent fit for his peculiar upbringing.

Out of all the guests present for the show, Lyney had coincidentally chosen the hardest target in the room. He, who is aware of the spared glances thrown his way, acts foolish enough to blend with the crowd. When Lyney smiled, he did so as well. When he pointed, he nudged with the rest. An spectator like any other right until the spotlight is set on him. Even when it's not his intention, he always ends up standing out amongst the rest. Call it another natural talent of his, one of many it seems.

❝ If you need a volunteer you should just say so. I can help with that. ❞ Though that's more of a wild guess from his part. ❝ But try not to stare too much or else, you might get distracted mid act, blondie. ❞ An added wink comes to place, consider it a generous tip for his services.

“here. have some of this too, freminet.” then, no pause for an answer as lyney slides the bowl in his brother's direction. “last time we were in liyue you said you liked the black-back perch stew we had, right? you can have my share.” the magician, for his part, seems perfectly content to slowly pick at his stir-fried fish noodles anyway, far more occupied with his people-watching than eating.

“anyway”—his gaze flicks back to his brother after a few more minutes pass and stays there, smile curling at the corner of his lips—“i've been practicing some old tricks from lynette and i's days as street performers. here, want to see one?” the magician holds both hands—bare, for once—wide open in demonstration, then takes a coin from his pocket and tucks it into his fist as his fingers curls shut. it's a simple trick, one of the first lyney ever learned. the mora is gone when his palms open again. “ah,” he laments dramatically. “how will we pay for our meals now? you wouldn't happen to have your wallet, would you?”

a pause. one second passes, then two, then three before lyney finally laughs. “just kidding, of course. what kind of older brother would i be if i let you pay?” a snap of his fingers, an expectant glance at his hand, and an confused blink when it comes up empty. “hmm...” and here, at last, he turns and leans over to freminet, reaching behind his ear. he's always loved plucking volunteers from the audience for his tricks, after all. “ah, here it is.” when he leans back, there's a red envelope in his hand instead of the mora that vanished, held out to freminet. lyney smiles—a brother's smile, not a magician's. “i heard it was tradition in liyue to give these out at this time of year. why don't you explore the festival buy yourself something nice? i'll go cover our bill.”

Freminet opens his mouth to politely refuse, but the black-back perch stew has already been pushed in his direction, and he can't help his mouth involuntarily watering, remembering the flavor distinctly in his mind. Knowing his older brother, he's sure this is just one of his roundabout ways of getting the younger to finish up the portions they've over-ordered, and he obliges, especially because the food is truly delicious.

Mouth full of fish stew, he nods silently as he chews, his eyes following the magician's sleight of hand, playing the perfect part of an audience member and giving Lyney enough time to set up a mini-predicament, then - ta-da! A magical reveal.

lyney volunteers without waiting for lynette's word on the matter. of course he does, and with the charm and confidence he does it with, who could deny him? it matters not how actually dangerous a task might be—if there is a chance, even the slightest risk that she will come to harm, he will eliminate it entirely.

this way, often, is the easiest.

“well, what do you think? isn't it convincing?” it should be. after all, they've their fair share of tricks that rely on the fact that one twin can just as easily pass as the other, though lyney has a harder time of it for a few, glaringly feline reasons. when a hand raises to flick the fake ears atop his head, they do not twitch as lynette's might have, and the tail simply drags lifelessly behind him. “convincing enough,” he amends. it's not as though such details will be the subject of notice when he falls.

lyney is used to falling. he practiced it hundreds of times to perfect cesar's trick. and so the magician and brother merely smiles at his assistant and sister and says, “i know how to fall—it'll be just like a magic trick. i practiced, remember?”

cats always land on their feet. stupid big brother. defensive big brother. doesn't-even-let-lynette-be-lynette now big brother. and his dear younger sister makes no effort to disguise her ire, carved jagged into every mirrored feature that stupid lyney beams at with his stupid star-marked cheek instead of the teardrop she knows.

her half-lidded stare and silence holds for a number of seconds that any normal person would call uncomfortable. lynette lets it marinate on purpose. stares at lyney for some moments longer, unblinking. unsettling. she really wants him to feel awkward, really wants him to stew in it. but at long last she finally speaks.

"and? i practiced, too."  arms cross in front of her chest. unlike that sad, inanimate tail attached to her twin, the one behind lynette swishes precariously.  "i can do my own stunts, you know. ugh. the way you even went to butt in without asking me..."

of course the coordinators would say yes to him. everybody else in the world says yes to lyney. lynette does not mind being his check, his control, his reason where he is her rhyme, but being the killjoy tires her.

"just because you can fall doesn't mean you always should."

(she was always meant to be his partner in crime.)

"whatever. can you at least go get me a coffee before you shoot, big brother?"  then there's a petulant turn of her head in the opposite direction, hmph-ing into the sky. it's the least he can do for her.

some minutes later, lynette's stinky stunt actor is approaching the producer, 'tail' limping lifelessly and 'ears' stiff as felt. ahem.

violet eyes, fully open and glimmering with life, crinkle in preface to the chirp that follows.

"well, everyone, are we ready to begin?"  a wink, a dazzling grin.  "my dear sister is ordering me a coffee as we speak, and i wouldn't want it to get cold!"

cat-eared head turns in the direction of distant café lutece. as the scurrying film crew prepares its props behind 'lyney', eyelids shutter halfway while that grin crumbles to ash in the mouth.