#mersault x reader

― it catches him off guard more than anything. after all the unforgivable sins he believes he committed against the lineage, there is still someone who looks up to him, let alone in such near-familial terms.

― even so, he does little in response. sooner or later, he assumes, you too will lose faith in him like the others did; worn down by endless wandering with no destination in sight. that is how these things always end.

― and yet. . . the light in your eyes has not dimmed. not once, even as time passes. even after his scoldings whenever you praise him regardless of whether he truly ‘did well’ in the field or not; even after you continued to support his choices, though they led to anything but a steady place to stay; even after those relentless battles, where you still trail after him like some stubborn little duckling. 

― he finds it difficult to understand. at first, he mistakes it for blind trust placed in a weak-willed mentor like him - something that, from time to time, causes no small amount of trouble for the both of you. but the longer he watches, the more it seems the feeling you hold for him is genuine. at least in some measure, he supposes.

― but there are also complications. the more he looks into those starry eyes that regard him as someone worth following, with such faithful hope no less, the more aware he becomes of his own dishonor and failure. the brighter the stars shine, the darker the sky seems by contrast after all.

― thus, at times - if not often - he avoids you. avoids so he need not feel that pressure against his ribs, need not be reminded with every passing step of a bitterness that still feels as though it happened yesterday.

― yet as waves gradually soften the sharp edge of stone, he slowly begins to grow somewhat more mindful of you, though the process is unquestionably long. painfully long, in fact.

― patience goes a great way with a man such as him, for you are not the only one under his care; merely the one who clings to faith in him so stubbornly that it outweighs the doubts of the rest of the salsu.

― with enough companionship, and that unwavering trust of yours - that enthusiastic support no matter what hardship crashes across your path - it’s possible to see where such persistence may lead.

― should the bond take root - he, to say the least, detests that his own conduct has begun to resemble favoritism. to him, it is less that and more a foolish, selfish mindset - to preserve your admiration as proof that he hasn’t wholly failed as a mentor to those beneath his wing; an anchor that grants him strength enough to endure the distrust and disappointment of his students; and one of the few good things amid a journey otherwise steeped in regret.

― however, that “favoritism” is subtle to the point that unless one possesses a very keen eye, there is little chance of noticing it.

― meursault pays just a touch more attention to looking out for you during battle - gaze always finding its way back to where you position yourself, his blade that much readier to cut down any enemy that proves a formidable threat to you. only a tad, however; he’s a man who knows the line between being protective and being coddling.

― in daily survival, he always finds some way to make sure you have something to fill your belly. the difference here is that he does not place it directly into your hands, nor make any gesture grand enough to be thanked for. instead, your portion is quietly set aside before the rest are divided, or a better share happens to end up nearest your reach as though by chance.

― speaking of which, meursault becomes weirdly invested in correcting your manner of eating - be it sit up straight, chew properly, do not speak with your mouth full, and so on. 

― he also listens to your ramblings too - whatever they may concern, from the sky to the earth and all things between. he may mask it as mere passing noise while focusing on his work, but you know well enough that he is paying attention to every word. (he once asked, mid-yapping no less, why you were so certain ‘dragons’ existed somewhere out there, after all.)

― speaking of humor, you may well be one of the very, very few people capable of prying dry humor out of him. he isn’t aware of it himself, either. it’s amusing regardless - seeing a man like him deadpan at the most obvious joke you made with such grave sincerity.

― if you’re someone prone to mimicking another’s habits, then congratulations - none of it goes unnoticed with this man. while, regrettably, he does little about it - your actions are seen, noted, and remembered every single time after.

― when you get overly excited and start tugging him toward something “worthy to be seen”, he suddenly gains the gift of foresight, knowing full well it is bound to be either trouble or nonsense. depending on the day, he’ll either answer with a long sigh or follow along with your scheme anyway. 

― apart from those softer sides of his - which, admittedly, are not so different from his usual demeanor - there’s also his stricter side.

― he’s strict, that much is a crystal clear fact. for instance, when you take an unnecessary cut - a rather serious one, mind you - he grows more curt and sharper with certain members nearby. including you. especially you.

― not only on that occasion, though - frequently, in fact. partly because you, a salsu with no small measure of enthusiasm, require somewhat firmer direction to balance that spirit against the harsh reality you all live in; partly because meursault himself knows little else. leniency is something distant to him, something like a faint echo long since faded.

― he does lecture. you know the sort of old man lecture that sounds so cryptic and verbose their kids fall asleep midway through it? yes, meursault is much like that, and one must also account for the solemn tone he carries into every word.

― he grows rather disheartened - which somehow stings more than if he had simply scolded you outright - when you let his advice pass through one ear and out the other. too obviously. so for your own sake, it’s wise to listen to at least some portion of it. 

― or, in other cases, his lessons may come in the form of a “time-out.” kim is a stern and solemn man, yes, but there are times your bold energy may or may not wear upon even his patience. when that happens, punishment is simple: either double training drills or sitting in place with your hands raised until he says otherwise. no in-between.

― he never calls you by anything resembling a familial term, nor does he agree when you use such words yourself. but it’s still clear he’s grown aware of the fatherly role you place upon him, and in his own subtle way, has begun to fit into it.

― meursault is a stern, stoic, serious, and near-emotionless man, but perhaps with those he has taken beneath his wing - especially someone akin to you, so quixotic and, to an extent, innocent -  some trace of that expressiveness has begun to rub off on him.