Chongtao Supremacy

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

yae miko -`✮´-

the soft glow and flicker of lanterns bathed the shrine's central courtyard in a warm amber light, shadows looming along the stone pathways. yae stood poised at the entrance of the shrine, her eyes scanning the gathering crowd with a calculated gaze. tonight was a special festival, with dignitaries and guests from far and wide attending.

truthfully, yae was not very focused on the crowd. instead, her gaze followed a certain someone through the swarm of attendees. she found amusment in the way you weaved through the mob, dodging hands and elbows. but, her eyes narrowed slightly when she noticed you approach another guest- a scholar, whose hand briefly brushed yours as they spoke. the way they smiled at you, the easy way they leaned in, and the sincerity of your laugh- it was a sight that unsettled yae. she continued to observe, but her patience quickly whittled away. with inhuman grace and silence, she swiftly moved closer, slowing only when she in talking distance

"you seem...quite popular tonight" yae teased softly, her voice like silk with just the faintest edge of something more. she reveled in the way you jumped at the feeling of her breath on your neck, quickly whipping around to face her. the scholar straightened quickly, bowing in flustered respect

"ah, guuji yae-"

but miko's gaze slid past him, landing on you instead. she stepped into your space, her faint smile never faltering

"i see you've been working very closely with our guest...how diligent of you" she said, her fingers brushing your sleeve as if to casually brush it off "...though, you know, i've been in need of your assistance myself"

you opened your mouth to explain, but miko gently presses a slender finger to your lips to silence you

"i do hope you haven't forgotten who keeps you busiest around here" she murmured, her tone lilting a playful threat

the scholar, clearly sensing an unspoken undercurrent, quickly excuses themselves, muttering about needing to fetch something. miko straightened, watching them go before turning her full attention to you

"they were just funny" you defend, trying to be as relaxed as possible, until you see the tiny crease of something like possessiveness at the corner of yae's mouth

"oh...is that so?" yae sneers, pressing a fingertip to your chin and guiding you to meet her gaze, "you will have to do much better than that if you want me to approve of your amusements"

your breath hitches at the sharp glint in her eyes, the air between you suddenly thick with tension. for all her usual playfulness, there's something in the way she's looking at you now that makes your stomach knot

yae tilts her head ever so slightly, reading your unease with a flicker of something softer beneath her gaze. her hand lingers under your chin, but her touch gentles. "ah, i've gone and startled you haven't i? i apologize little one....my, what a cruel guuji i must seem"

she withdraws her hand slowly, as though to give you space, but her eyes never leave yours. "very well," she sighs, "i'll offer you my forgiveness, but only if you're willing to be completely honest with me. no coy deflections, no clever little half-truths"

"f-fine...if you really want the truth, i...i like it when get jealous. when you're a little possessive"

for a moment, there's only silence, then yae's ears give the faintest twitch, her eyes narrowing with sharp amusement. the corners of her mouth curl into a knowing smirk, one that tells you she's already filing this little confession away for later use

"oh? my, my....what a dangerous little taste you have," yae purrs. without warning, she cups your cheek, pulling you just close enough for her lips to firmly press against your neck. when she finally leans back, a bold crimson mark is left just below your jaw, her gaze glinting with satisfaction

"there..." she purrs, fingers gently tilting your head so the light catches it better. "now everyone will know who you belong to for the rest of the night"

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

lisa -`✮´-

you had been staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes, the soft, insistent ticking of the library clock making your eyelids heavier by the second, with nothing to show- no sudden flash of understanding, no clever association. the textbook in front of you might as well have been written in a language you couldn't understand. as if she had read your mind, lisa suddenly peeked her head around a nearby bookshelf

"darling...you look like you're trying to wrestle an octopus with your bare hands. perhaps you would like some assistance?"

lisa settled in beside you, the fabric of her dress brushing against your arm. her perfume was a soft, floral scent that enveloped you, and immediately made your head feel fuzzy

"what exactly is the trouble?" she asked, eyes gliding over the page

"everything..." you admitted, "i can't keep the concepts straight"

lisa hummed, a sound that might have been of amusement

"well...shall we start from the top?" she tapped a sentence with a well manicured finger. when she did, her palm gently grazed your wrist, causing the hairs on your arm stand up and your attention snap like a twig. "see? that first clause connects to the second by way of implication, not causation. you cannot approach these texts too literally. try again, but this time, read it as if it's a story"

you tried, as she asked, muttering a shaking interpretation. she nodded, pleased, giving your head a couple gentle pats "nicely done dear". you instantly flushed

she began to explain the next section, but your mind was already starting to wander. lisa's proximity, scent, and touches were the only thoughts in your head. you shook yourself back to reality. you were here to learn, not to memorize the scent of lisa's perfume

lisa wasn't helping either. each one of her "helpful" touches was a small, deliberate invasion. her hand would rest on the small of your back to nudge you closer to the paper, or she would adjust your grip, fingers brushing against yours in a way that made your pulse skip

"focus darling...you have a tendency to daydream" lisa chided. you attempted to answer her most recently asked question, but her eyes pinned you with that combination of amusement and teacherly severity that you couldn't even form a coherent sentence. when she let out a soft laugh at your flustered expression, the sound was a small, private thing that made it harder and harder to assemble thoughts. "oh dear, you're awfully tense," she murmured, letting her hand trail ever so slowly along your forearm, "and here i thought we were here to study..."

you finally started to realize that lisa had read you like one of her books, sensing how wound up you'd been lately. instead of drilling concepts into your head, she'd decided to melt the stress out of you entirely

eventually, she closed the book with a soft thump, her eyes glinting knowingly. "that's enough for today. come here dear." before you could even respond, she guided you into the plush chair by the window, drawing you into her lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. her arms wrapped around you, and you felt her heartbeat through the steady rise and fall of her chest. the world outside blurred into muted sounds, the only thing sharp and clear being the gentle warmth of her embrace and the faint lavender that clung to every breath you took

"you needed this more than the lesson" she whispered against your ear, her voice laced with that same quiet, knowing amusement. and in that moment, you couldn't argue

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

mavuika -`✮´-

the night had blurred into a warm, stumbling haze. faces had long blurred together, and you remembered laughing too loudly at jokes that weren’t all that funny. you started with a couple drinks, and then another, then another, until the world tipped and you could no longer convince your legs to obey

just before you were about to black out, a steady hand slid beneath your elbow and guided you away from the press of the crowd

"easy there, had one too many drinks huh?" the stranger chuckles. "lean on me, ill get you somewhere quiet"

you tried to protest, but the words came out as a sleepy jumble. instead, you slurred a sleepy warning: "don't-don't make her angry. my girlfriend...she'll kill me if she sees me leaning on another girl." the woman who held you froze for one breath

"your girlfriend?" she repeated, voice low and amused. "she must care for you a great deal" you muttered something that sounded close to "tell her I said sorry," and draped one arm over the stranger's shoulder as if anchoring yourself. you sank into her, heavy and grateful, while the woman- mavuika, though you would not recognize her then- murmured, "we will see to that"

she guided you away from the crowd and down a narrow side street, carrying you like a cherished, sleepy relic. while mavuika slowly moved you back to your home, you babbled on

"she gets these freckles when she's flushed" you slurred. "she steals the covers and calls it a service" you go on. "she hums when she's fixing things." you move on to praises, and mavuika nearly stops in her tracks. she had been walking steadily, one arm firm around your waist to keep you upright, but now her pace slows, the corners of her lips tugging upward in a mixture of surprise and indulgent amusement

"mm? is that so?" mavuika murmurs, her voice low and silky smooth. when you call her "the most beautiful girl in teyvat," her breath leaves her in a small laugh, shaking her head. "i see...so my dear thinks so highly of me they'd even brag to strangers about it" she says softly

and when you slur out that you're lucky to have her, that no one else could compare, mavuika's eyes soften in a way you'd only recognize if you were sober. she lets out a quiet hum, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with her free hand. "careful now," she chides, "if you keep talking like that, your 'angry girlfriend' might just forgive you before she even sees what trouble you've gotten yourself into tonight," but the way she holds you even closer and a little tighter says she's already melted <3

and when you wake up tomorrow morning, you'll find a neatly arranged plate containing warm bread and fruit, a glass of water beading with condensation, and a folded note tucked neatly underneath the rim.

you drank too much. i got you home safe next time, lean on me before the wine, not after

but it's the faint smudge of deep crimson you find on your right cheek that truly makes your heart flutter. you might not remember the details of last night, but somehow, with the warmth of her lingering care still wrapped around you, it doesn't matter

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

xilonen -`✮´-

you found xilonen curled up on her workshop's makeshift bed, as she often did, sunlight pooling over her like a blanket. her hair spilled over mattress, and her tools lay scattered around haphazardly. in this moment, xilonen looked small, almost soft and foldable

you padded closer and grabbed a blanket from a nearby chair. it was one she had once woven herself, the threadwork uneven, the mark of a beginner. you draped it over her sleeping figure delicately, being very careful not to stir xilonen awake. without really thinking, you lowered yourself onto the bench beside her to tuck the other edge of the blanket under her elbow. a long, soft exhale left her lips as your arm brushed against hers. you lightly moved a stray lock from her temple and smiled at the small crease of contentment that settled there

just as you where getting up to leave, the bench dipped as xilonen shot her hand out startlingly fast. her fingers curled around your wrist, tugging you forward with surprising strength for someone half asleep. the world tilted, and you let out a quiet gasp as you tumbled onto the bed. xilonen didn't even open her eyes, only shifting lazily, guiding you closer until you were beneath the blanket with her. she gave a soft, contented sigh, draping one arm over you and pressing her forehead lightly to your temple, as though this had been her plan all along. you reached to adjust the throw, and when your hand met the back of her neck, xilonen nuzzled deeper into your embrace

at first, you told yourself you were only going to stay a minute, but the steady rythm of xilonen's breathing, the weight of her arm, and the warmth of her body made if harder and harder to think about leavimg. your eyelids grew heavier with each quiet second, and somewhere between counting her breaths and trying to sync your breathing with hers, you slipped into a gentle sleep

you blinked awake to the sounds of...mumbling? you quickly adjusted yourself to get a better of view of xilonen's face. was she having a nightmare? her lashes fluttered as she drifted around in her dream and then, unexpectedly, she mumbled again. "stay...never let you go" the words were so plain yet honest that your chest warmed as if someone had poured tea into it. you couldn't control the smile that bloomed across your face, and you also couldn't resist planting a featherlight kiss upon xilonen's soft lips. for a second, nothing happened.... then the faintest curve tugged at the corner's of her mouth, a sleepy smile blossoming as if she'd just been given the sweetest secret

when xilonen finally shifted awake, she expected to find only the usually stillness beside her, only to freeze when her gaze landed on you, nestled close, sound asleep. her surprised softened into something warmer, her lips parting into a disbelieving smile. as if on queue, you blinked awake

"morning..." you murmured

"it's almost dinnertime dummy" xilonen chuckles, gently brushing a stray lock out of your face

you stretched languidly, a sly smile curling across your lips as your memories slowly returned. "you know...you were saying the cutest things in your sleep" you teased

xilonen froze, her eyes widening for just a split second before narrowing in irritation. "i-what? no, i didn't" she quickly defended, pulling the blanket as if it was a shield

"oh you definitely did," you pressed. "something about...never letting me go?"

xilonen's ears went pink, and she turned her head away with a huff. "you must've been dreaming. i don't say sappy things like that." the lack of eye contact only made her defense less convincing. as you continued to corner her with your sly grin, she finally surrendered. "fine...maybe i was being sentimental in my sleep. do not tell anyone, okay?"

you promised and xilonen playfully shoved you back onto mattress, falling on top of you

"i meant everything i said, you know?"

you nod gently, careful not to bonk xilonen with you head. xilonen tucked her arm around you and shifted to distribute her weight more evenly

"let's stay like this for a little bit longer...shall we?"

Most nights end with her face down, hair fanned out across the tabletop like fine silk. Sometimes she mutters to herself, others she just snores into the wood below. Either way, it’s always clear that she couldn’t make it home if she tried. In the past that meant relying on the kindness of strangers (or in some cases, an overzealous Varesa) to drop her off on her doorstep, or at the very least to look the other way while she slept it off. The thought has always made you sick.

For this reason, you ensure that you are always the proverbial “last man standing”. When the barkeep signals for last call, you wordlessly wrap her in your coat, collect her things, and carry her all the way home. You make sure to avoid the main roads- Citlali insists that her reputation is already irreparable, but you know better than to be so careless with her. So you take the long way around, the hum of cicadas mingling with her quiet mumbles into your shoulder. It’s a song in its own right, one you’ve grown accustomed to.

And without fail you do take her home. You avoid discarded bottles and sidestep Citlalin and Itzpapa, kicking her front door shut with the kind of ease that only comes with practice. Only after placing her on her couch do you kneel by her feet. It always starts with unlacing her sandals- why she chooses the most involved footwear for a night out remains a mystery. Steady hands undo her jewelry and accessories, stacking them one by one on the coffee table. Her eyes follow your touch, waning crescent moons peeking from under thick lashes. There’s a quiet reverence to it; a gentleness, an honesty that she rarely allows under any other circumstance. It hurts to leave her there each time, curled up amongst throw pillows and the softness of your coat.

Neither of you ever speak of it.

But there are other nights, those when she’s still able to stand and the moon is full. She’ll corral you somewhere up high above the rest of the world, pulling you along by the hand. Her chatter and the chime of bottles clinking fills the air, and you do your best each time to commit the sound to memory. She gleams like polished silver under moonlight, a white hot star dutifully guiding you home; at times like this, her name has never felt more fitting.

From above, nocturnal packs of Iktomisaurs can be seen navigating the rough terrain. Blue feathered heads appear and quickly vanish into the inky blackness below, bobbing along like bubbles skimming over rushing water. Their calls to one another mingle with the world’s natural drone, a familiar symphony of humming cicadas and rustling dry brush. Citlali always seems pleased with herself when she catches you watching them. Wine stained lips pull up at the corners in a way she reserves only for your moonlit nights, the tails of her skirt billowing outwards like feathers of her own when she perches on the craggy ledge.

It never matters how much distance there is to start with. Sometimes you’re convinced you could sit on an adjacent cliff side and the results would still be the same, the two of you collapsing into one another the way a dying star folds in on itself.

Whether it’s to pass a bottle or whisper conspiratorially— because some secrets are not meant for the world and all of its ears, but only for each other’s— something inevitably brings the two of you crawling together over blades of dry grass. Ceremonial incense perpetually clings to her skin, and you only feel close enough when the heady scent envelops you whole. There’s a routine to it; it’s a coordinated kind of bashfulness, where at least one of you pretends to hesitate before the inevitable collapse. Most nights you have to take the initiative. Otherwise she sits there with pleading moonstone eyes, frustrated and awkward well into the next week. It’s endearing, in a way. Or at least it would be, if it didn’t mean she’d avoid you later over the perceived rejection.

And so you do take initiative, guiding her to you with open arms and a kind of evident affection that lets her pretend to hesitate. Her cheek presses into your shoulder or the top of your thigh depending on how much she feels like holding herself upright.

Once she’s settled, she resumes telling you stories of the world long before you came into it. She speaks of inauspicious stars and constellations that no longer exist, great battles that uprooted the land, and of histories that would otherwise be lost to time. She tells you all the ways the world could end with the sureness of someone who knows it will not.

Regardless of what hill you’ve climbed under her direction, Mictlan gleams in the distance like a vivid mirage. Her gaze follows the adjacent cliff sides and brightly colored graffiti, all lines leading back to the center to guide her.

Ukumbuko, Memory— a fitting Ancient Name for the woman resting against you.

Citlali’s calloused fingertips map out patterns in the heavens you can’t quite see, but not for lack of trying. And you do try— you’d give anything to see the world through her eyes. Telling her such just makes her laugh into the night, something short and humorless but not entirely unkind.

For a while, your position is as easy as breathing. You absentmindedly trace shapes of your own as her words drift in lazy spirals, fingers grazing along each of the tattoos that wrap around her shoulders and frame her face. Her hair pours over your lap and into the grass below, a shimmering blanket that begs to be deftly untangled strand by strand.

This is the only other time she allows you to be honest with your hands.

It always ends abruptly, though you’ve never quite figured out what does it. Maybe she finally gets a good look at you under the brightness of the moon, its light illuminating you just enough for her to notice the changes. A new freckle, a laugh line, how you’ve parted your hair differently.

Maybe it’s when she almost calls you by a name that isn’t your own— you’ve seen the way her stained mouth fixes around the wrong syllables, but the sound always dies before making it to you. You don’t have to hear it to know who she’s calling for. You’ve heard Huitzilin’s name enough on much tougher nights, those when Citlali can’t steady her own two feet or her wandering mouth. It makes something twist in the pit of your stomach, hard and vertigo inducing.

Whatever it is, it never fails to sober her all at once. Sometimes she tries to fight it for a bit longer. Others, she jerks away from your side like she’s been burned. Either way, you both know the moment has passed. Like overripe fruits that have gone unpicked, sweetness turns to cloying rot as natural as the changing seasons. It weighs you both down until branches break and you’re sent careening back to earth— back to reality.

All that’s left to do is pack up and go home. You know better nowadays than to prolong it, than to ask her for just a few minutes more. That only works to push the wedge deeper until it splinters between the two of you, and you’d rather not watch her avoid you for the next few weeks (not again, at least). So you let her back away and fix your gaze on Mictlin’s shimmering lights for a long while.

The trek down is always silent; there is no chatter, no laughter to be swallowed up by the night. But the cicadas still sing, and the Iktomisaurs call to one another uninterrupted, and the world has not ended no matter how much you’d like to believe it has.

You take care to walk beside her instead of behind her, but you never try to bridge the gap between your idle hands. That sort of thing makes her accuse you of pity, or worse. So you keep a respectable distance, never straying too far but never reaching out. Instead, you opt to pretend that your want for her isn’t trying to claw its way from your chest like a trapped animal, like you aren’t suffocating at her side. Frustration rolls off of her in waves, but it’s easy enough to understand.

You both know that you’re running out of time.

Your mortality is not a frequent topic of discussion— in fact, you keep it as far away from Citlali as possible. But it’s an inevitability that hangs over the two of you, one that colors every interaction she allows herself to have. There’s no way around the fact that you will die one day. Just like the others, just like Huitzilin, you will leave her behind to join those long dead constellations she so often describes. Once you’re gone, it will be her job to remember you, too.

At the same time, it’s not lost on either of you that she’s wasting what time she has left by mourning your loss. It’s an endless cycle, one neither of you seem to have the nerve to break. So you let her simmer, muttering and fighting with herself each time you make your descent.

Each time, the journey inevitably ends on her front porch. Scattered birdsong joins the world’s perpetual hum, the coming dawn coloring the horizon in shades of gray.

She never says anything, though not for lack of trying. Her lips part and close again, like the words just won’t come no matter the cost.

You don’t interrupt her. She doesn’t speak, but you still listen as intently as ever. It’s frustrating, of course, but not enough to do things differently. The day’s coming light bathes everything in a wash of pale blue, reminiscent of the spirits she describes in her sleep. Judging by how she can’t seem to look at you, you’re sure it isn’t lost on her either.

Under the haze of another coming dawn, the veil between your worlds is at its thinnest. If you were to reach for her, she might just let you in for what’s left of the night. You could fall into routine as you remove her sandals, her jewelry. In your ideal world, she reaches for you herself.

All that’s left is for one of you to step forward, and more importantly, to take responsibility for what comes after.

But the two of you freeze without fail, as if remaining landlocked is the only way to keep the sky in its rightful place. The tension only breaks when she turns to face her front door, when her mouth finally stills and her nails dig into her palms hard enough to bruise. You know without seeing that purple crescent moons bloom beneath her grip, divots and valleys you’ve run your thumbs across more than once.

You’re always the one to say goodnight, though you can never recall exactly how you’ve done it in the past. The sounds feel foreign in your clumsy mouth, falling onto the pavement between the two of you only half formed before dying at her feet. It doesn’t matter, though— her only acknowledgement of your parting words is a lazy flick of her wrist.

You would take more offense to it if you didn’t know how her voice would betray her. She’s honest with you in that way. Even with her back straight, shoulders drawn up tight like a bow string, you both know speaking would split her open at the seams. Turning away is her only means of keeping it together. The act is another clear look at her through all the bluster, and you can’t ever help but feel a bitter sense of honor.

Awkward and uncomfortable, an alien familiarity, blindly fumbling for connection only to shut it out once it’s close enough to grab ahold of— Citlali is honest with you in every act, whether it counts or not.

To you, it does.

And so you take it all. Her silence, her abrupt goodbyes, how her scent clings to you long after she’s left you alone on her doorstep. In the same way you haunt her with your every remaining breath, she’s made sure to do the same in return. You’ll take it over and over again if it means you’ve earned another chance to see her as she is.

Once she’s retreated into her home, the lock of her door sounding into the night with a final click, all that’s left to do is wait. You stay on her porch until she’s settled for the night, lights behind shaded windows dimming down low. Like everything else, it’s a routine you know well. Only when you’re sure she’s gone quiet do you turn to face the coming dawn.

"Humans don't have wings, sweetheart."

What an absurd thought. Sure, your kind was no stranger to walking—hence the existence of your lower extremities—but to only be able to walk? To remain eternally shackled by gravity, never feeling Mother Nature's blessing of the winds carrying your body as effortlessly as leaves floating down to the earth? Humans must have upset her somehow, you thought. Surely that's why she refused to allow them to fly in the air she breathed out for you all.

Once, after many years had passed, you looked back on that memory and chided your past self for believing something so childish. Now, you're starting to wonder if maybe you were right all along. Not having the ability to fly is a punishment bestowed upon sinners by Mother Nature, and you're her latest victim.

Fairies and humans are never meant to get too mixed up with one another, you see. It's the only reason you've survived their massacring nature, albeit still facing casualties such as littering and pollution to interfere with your daily lives. If they can't see you, they can't trap you. Snatch you up into containers. Hunt down the rest of you for their own sick amusement. If you stay far, far away, or at least use your disguising magic with due diligence on the occasions you do end up in their line of sight, they can't hurt you.

And yet you tempted fate. You knew that sneaking out to watch that girl and her round, fluffy cat companion was a bad idea, and yet you continued to do so, getting closer and more careless with each passing day. Really, it was only a matter of time until something went wrong. It just so happened that today was your unlucky day.

That damn cat just had to notice you for the split second your disguise went down and pounce on you from behind, shredding your wings in the process. And, of course, the girl had to take notice of all the commotion and turn her head right before you returned to invisibility. Why couldn't she have waited one more second? If she'd reacted even a little bit slower, you wouldn't be caught up in the predicament of hiding from both her and her demonic hellspawn. You find a tree to take cover behind and slide to the ground.

"It's okay, little one. I don't mean you any harm."

You know better than to believe human lies. Still, she continues to call out for you, all while kneeling on the dirty ground with her pristine, white tights.

"You're injured, aren't you? Poor thing... Please, let me make up for what Little Ica did."

Rustling noises come from her direction. Despite the pain, you have enough strength to force yourself back upright and check what all the ruckus is about. When you peek over, you find that she's in the process of opening a bag of hers—one you've seen plenty of times, courtesy of her shoving countless herbs in there during their expeditions. Bandages come spilling into your vision, among other medical supplies.

"I just want to help you. That's all."

You bite your lip. Truthfully, even with the knowledge of how terrifying humans are, you also know all too well how dangerous heading home in this state would be—if you could try at all, given how blurry and distorted your vision's grown. Passing out means the magic wearing off, and seeing how that went for you a moment ago... Yeah, that's not a risk you're exactly keen on taking at the moment.

Not only that, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't painfully curious about the girl. Humans are evil, violent creatures. They hunt and they hurt and they sully the very land that nourishes them without a care in the world. That's what you've always been told. That's all you've been told. But watching her day after day, dutifully gathering herbs and whatnot with a gentle smile permanently etched onto her face, always careful not to disturb the wildlife... It makes you wonder.

"I also have berries, if you'd care for some."

You know what? Screw it. You've already committed the sin of letting yourself get dangerously close to a human. Might as well go all the way and walk up to one.

She lets out a gasp as your stumbling form reveals itself and you collapse onto her knee. You can barely make out the sound, though, only the sensation of a warm wall blanketing your backside and scooping you up into itself. The last things you see before your consciousness gives out altogether are two seas of teal, swimming with tenderness and tranquility.

-

When you next open your eyes, your sleep-hazed mind instinctually attempts to float up into the air for a good morning stretch. Only once this fails miserably—and brings you plenty of pain to stop you from giving it a second try—do the memories of before flood back in. As does the panic.

"Careful!"

A gargantuan finger blocks your squirming. Good thing, too, considering how inflamed your already dreadful pain became from just a few seconds of it. The girl's head pops into your side view.

"Please don't be scared. I don't want to hurt you. I'm just trying to tend to your wounds." She sighs. "They look pretty bad, though... I'll do my best to properly disinfect the area, but with how deep it is, we'll need to monitor it carefully over the next few days. Tell me right away if the pain gets worse or you feel off at all."

You blink a few times.

"Why?"

"Hm?" She tilts her head to the side. "Why what?"

"Why are you trying so hard to help me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

You aren't sure how you're supposed to respond to that. Probably because there's no answer you can think of that doesn't strike even yourself as childish and overly simplistic. Because your parents told you that humans are mean? Because other humans have come into the forest you live in and acted cruelly towards its inhabitants? You could say that, but then you'd just loop around to the same problem: they aren't her. And so, all you can do is keep quiet and look around this room—hers, you assume—as she continues tending to your injuries.

If you were asked to guess what kind of room this girl has based off her appearance, you'd certainly have earned a passing grade. Plushies litter every nook and cranny they've been able to shove themselves into, while other varieties of cute, typically pink decor fill up the spaces the plushies forgot about. The only part of her room that catches you by surprise is the copious stacks of thick books.

"Alright, I'm done for now. How does it feel?"

Not great, honestly. It's still far too tender to be worth trying to fly once more, much less to expect any positive results from it. Still, the way her eyes expectantly watch as you maneuver around tugs at your heartstrings a little too hard to not give you pause.

"It's... better than before."

"Thank goodness!" She beams and clasps her hands together. "I tried my best to go off of what we've been learning at school, but they don't exactly teach us how to treat patients like you."

So that's what all the books are for. You nod along aimlessly as she speaks, failing to come up with anything important enough to be worth saying yourself. Despite that, her smile continues beaming down at you just as brightly.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Are you hungry?"

And that's how you wound up sharing a meal with a girl about ten times as tall as you. In your eyes, at least, it was a meal; most of your kind struggle to so much as force down a single berry in one go. The girl, however, seems perfectly fine shoveling nearly half the basket's worth down as a light snack. In between bites, she tries to relight your poor excuse of a previous conversation.

"How's your berry?"

"Fine."

"Good, good." She smiles—or, to be more accurate, she smiles harder than she already was. "My name's Hyacine. What's yours?"

"Um..."

Reluctantly, you offer your own. It may be true that sharing your name with strangers is a tad bit taboo back home, but it's not like you've really got another choice right now if you don't want to make things awkward. Thankfully, she doesn't seem to notice your apprehension. Probably because there's a very, very loud cat meowing for her attention.

"Not now, Little Ica!"

Her bedroom goes silent. And then becomes filled with the echoes of war cries so unholy only soldiers and cats could produce.

"Oh gosh..." Her gaze flickers back and forth between you and the door. "I'm really sorry. Ica's just been so worried about you ever since what happened earlier."

Even though it's the one that got you in this whole mess? You keep the words to yourself but can do little for the primal shuddering taking over your body. Hyacine leans in closer.

"Don't worry. I'll be sure to keep you two separated, unless you ever decide you want to say hi."

"Thanks..."

As if you would want to be anywhere near that monster again. It certainly wants to be near you, though, as its incessant screaming and scratching implies. You frown. How are you ever going to make it back home if that stupid thing's blocking your way out of this room? Perhaps you could ask Hyacine to open her bedroom window and fly home that way—

Oh. Right.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Hyacine calls out. "Is it your wing? Here, turn around and I'll take a look."

"It's not that."

Her eyes squint a little in confusion before following your gaze over to her window. You can't be quite sure if she understands the exact train of thought chugging through your mind. What you can tell, though, is that she's adept at healing far more than simple physical ailments.

"Would you like to stay the night?"

"...If that's okay."

"Of course it's okay. You need a safe place to rest and recover."

A safe place, huh? Dwelling in the same home as the beast who savagely attacked you hours prior doesn't exactly sound like a safe place to you. And yet, as she oh so gently scoops you into her hand and sets you down in a makeshift miniature bed by her own, full-sized one, your body releases its pent-up tension all the same. Before you know it, your eyelids start to flutter shut.

"Goodnight. Rest well."

"You too."

-

It's warm. So, very warm. You'd love to stay like this for the rest of eternity, if only you could. Alas, you have to get up and get ready eventually. Still... Five more minutes couldn't hurt, right? With a satisfied hum, you cuddle deeper into your pillow.

Except your pillow giggles in response.

"Hm?" Your eyes flutter open. Based on what you remember of last night and the bed Hyacine offered you, the color greeting you should be a pastel pink. It shouldn't be such a warm tone, nor should it be coated with strange ridges from top to bottom.

You shriek and pull away. How long had you been clinging onto her finger like that? You hope not too long, although there frankly isn't any answer to that question that doesn't make you want to crawl into a hole and die. Her gleeful expression only rubs salt into the wound.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just trying to check your temperature, and, well..."

"I-it's fine."

"If you say so. In that case, how about some breakfast?"

You nod, expecting nothing more than the simple delicacy of a ripe berry just like last mealtime. She, on the other hand, seems to have other plans. While you're busy staring off into space and wiping the sleep from your eyes, clinks and clattering fill the air. Your portion of the desk soon grows far less empty than it was mere moments ago.

"How did you...?"

She giggles as your eyes widen.

"I used to collect dollhouses back when I was a kid. Oh, and don't worry. They may be old, but I made sure to clean each piece thoroughly."

Your eyes scan over the assortment of plastic tableware in front of you, or more accurately, the nestled and properly portioned goodness they're containing. A slice of fruit, a cup filled with water (and perhaps a hint of honey, going off the smell), and some mushroom to top it all off...

"Can I really have all of this?"

"Of course. I made it for you, after all."

Hearing that's all you need to rush forward and fill your greedy hands and stomach with bite after bite of deliciousness. She does the same, albeit with a breakfast much more fitting for a creature of her size.

"How are you feeling today? Is your wing bothering you at all?" she asks in between bites.

"Not really."

"That's wonderful! I will have to tend to it again after we're done eating, though, if that's alright."

"Sure."

You finish the remaining bites of your meal and silently turn your back towards her as she does the same to reach for her medical supplies. The sensation of your bandages being undone makes you wince.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah..."

So you say, and yet the sting the sudden touch brought on quickly morphs into a pounding ache, reverberating more and more violently through your back with each touch. Hyacine lets out a harsh gasp.

"Does it look that bad?" You try to turn to gauge her expression, yet the pain stops you midway, preparing you for her answer.

"The outer parts of the wings are alright, but the base, it... It got infected overnight. I'm really sorry. I must have not cleaned it well enough."

"It's okay. It's not your fault."

It's that damn cat's. With razors shaped like hooks as its weapon of choice, you suppose it's only natural that some grime got buried too deep for her to get it all out. Unfortunately, that knowledge isn't enough to stop Hyacine from sulking and apologizing every step of the way as she desperately tries to clean out the wound once more—difficult when you're not exactly doing the best job at staying still. By the time a fresh set of bandages are wrapped around your wings, both of you are too exhausted to do much other than sit idly, waiting for time to tell you how successful her efforts were.

It doesn't take long to get an update. Unfortunately, it's not the kind either of you were hoping for. As soon as the pain floodgates opened, nothing seemed quite enough to shut them—not stillness, not distractions, and certainly not waiting for your situation to miraculously improve. The only reprieve you can find solace in is the company of your giant companion.

"Do you mind if I take another look at it?"

You hesitantly nod and attempt to offer her your backside, except you wind up too busy doubling over and hissing in pain to make much progress. She, in all her grace and kindness, does the rest of the work and repositions you herself. The bandages come off. She winces. And then she grows silent. Part of you wants to ask why, but the intelligent half knows better. You hear shuffling and the soft click of a container being opened.

"This might sting a little."

A little's one hell of an understatement, but it honestly doesn't compare enough to the pre-existing pain to be worth complaining about aloud. Her voice softens into a whisper.

"You're doing great. I know that must have hurt a lot, but that gel's going to numb that area over the course of the next few minutes. Please be patient."

There's not much else for you to do. Even replying feels so Herculean a task that, once the area's gone numb enough to not feel her test touches, you can only force a faintly affirmative hum.

"Good. Now, I want you to relax as much as you can and try not to move. If you feel any pain, let me know and I'll stop right away."

One of her fingers nestles right in front of you. Without a moment of hesitation, you lean forward until your body weight's resting upon it. It's warm. So warm that your eyes begin to flutter open and shut before you know it.

"You're doing such a good job. Just a little bit longer, okay?"

But you've already stopped listening.

-

The first thing you notice is the sound of humming, rhythmic and as eternally gentle as the person making it. Next is how alert you feel, juxtaposed to the terrible fog that had crept into your mind before whatever it is that happened earlier. That memory prompts you to notice one last thing: somehow, your body feels... different. Better, perhaps. There is much less pain, which you're more than happy to accept. But it's still different. You can't understand why.

"Hyacine?"

She turns so fast her neck nearly snaps.

"You're awake! I was starting to get worried. Thank goodness..." She wipes a tear away from her eye, and then more as they continue filling the former one's place. "How are you feeling? You look much better, at least."

"I don't really know. It doesn't hurt, but I feel weird."

"That's to be expected after all that you went through." Her smile turns grim. "Speaking of, I never did get the chance to explain what was going on, did I?"

You don't like where this is going.

"As you know, I tried everything in my power to keep your wound clean, but it still got infected. I was hoping I could simply treat the infection, but... At the rate it was going, it was at risk of spreading and putting your life in danger."

Was?

"The only way I could make sure it didn't do that was by extracting the infected area, and since it was located at the base of your wings..."

This can't be real. It just can't.

"I'm so, terribly sorry."

The world around you goes blurry. You can't be a fairy with no wings. That's practically a death sentence for your kind. Sure, in the daytime you could hide your life away, but what of the night? With no invisibility or proper shelter to nestle into, how could you possibly hope to survive out there? You can't. You just can't.

The you of the past was right all along. Mother Nature really is punishing you for your stupidity, and now here you are, paying the price in full.

When you feel yourself being scooped up and plopped onto her thigh, you don't have the strength to do anything but slide forward and lean on her lower stomach, soaking up its warmth like the sun you're not sure you'll ever be able to enjoy again. Her fingertip strokes the top of your head.

"You know..." she begins to whisper. "Little Ica used to live outside too. They loved watching as I went about my day, picking berries and herbs and whatnot. Until one day, I heard meowing outside my door."

The monster howls and slaps at her bedroom door, as if to confirm her story.

"When I opened the door, the poor thing bolted inside—as well as they could, given their leg was hurt. Ever since that day, we've become a little family of sorts. I help them out, and they help me in turn by keeping me company."

Now that you think of it, you faintly recall witnessing many such occurrences. For as swift an attacker Little Ica's proven themself to be, they often straggle behind on their walks, forcing Hyacine to slow down and wait for them to catch up. You've even seen them being carried like a baby once or twice.

"What I'm trying to say is, Little Ica and I would be more than happy to have you become part of our little family if you'd like."

"Is that... really okay?"

"Of course it is."

Again, the cat loudly voices its agreement through the wooden door. Hyacine giggles. You follow suit.

"Would you be okay with me letting them in? They really are a sweetheart once you get to know them. I'll be sure to keep you safe though, just in case."

"Sure."

You're already regretting that response, dread seeping into your abdomen with each step she takes. At the same time, though, you'll be living with that thing for the rest of your life whether you like it or not. Besides, it's not nearly as dangerous this time around; not only is Hyacine vouching for Ica's pacifism, but she's also got you firmly wrapped up in one of her palms on the off-chance you're an unlucky exception. The doorknob turns. You inhale.

The millisecond the door opens, the cat bursts through and beelines straight towards you. You close your eyes and brace for another round of pain. And yet none comes. When you gain the confidence to reopen them, you find yourself greeted by the fluffiest butt in the universe.

"Sorry. It's a cat thing." Hyacine sighs. "It's a good sign, though. I think they're trying to show you that they mean no harm."

"Gross."

You scrunch your face at the sight. What a weird creature. While it may be true that the two of you will have to learn to accept one another's presence, now you're even more certain: there's absolutely no way you're ever becoming anything other than reluctant roommates with that damn cat.

-

"Where is it..."

Hyacine rushes around the room. No blanket or pillow goes unturned as she continues on her frantic hunt for what she's looking for. She groans. It has to be in this room. She knows it does. Just as she's about to give up and restart her search from the beginning, a gleam of golden glitter catches her eye.

"There you are!"

Her fingers wrap around a notebook before shoving it into her bag. Good thing she found it in time. Showing up late to school's not exactly her favorite way to start the day. Her eyes dart over towards Little Ica.

"I'm heading out—"

She stops mid-sentence at the sight of her beloved companion, or rather, companions. You just can't help yourself from falling asleep in warm places, can you? Not like she can blame you. She imagines that anyone would jump at the chance to cuddle with such a fluffy creature, especially one that's intent on hugging you like a newborn kitten into its belly.

MIKO

As a young kitsune, Miko was unable to transform into her human form due to a lack of strength and natural willpower. So, it was common for the yokai to be seen wandering around the shrine as a small fox, eating little snacks given to her by the shrine maidens, and terrorizing tiny children like the menace she was.

You’ve heard stories of a pink fox roaming the Narukami Shrine, but you didn’t think much of it when you sat down at a nearby bench to enjoy your lunch. Pulling out a small packet of your favorite chips, you tore it open before hearing a slight, rustling sound coming from within the bushes.

Rustle rustle rustle. 

You looked up to see one of the bushes in front of you moving, the branches shaking wildly before something pink and fluffy tumbled out from below.

A pink, fluffy, fox.

Miko had stumbled out of the plant with her fur all messy and tousled with leaves. A small yip leaving her mouth, as she shook like a wet dog and growled. Oh no, you’ve heard of this fox before. This was the terror of the Narukami Shrine, the infamous child attacker of Inazuma, the one, the only:

Yae Miko.

She sneezed as leaves blew out of her fur, before twitching her nose at the smell of your food. Once she caught a whiff of what you had in your lap, her eyes narrowed and she started glaring at you. Damn, even as a child, Miko still had that intimidating glare that could put an archon in their place, intimidating you with just a scowl before strutting up to you with confidence.

“…Hello?” You timidly say, looking down at the fox with worry. “You’re…you’re the fox that attacks kids, right? Please don’t hurt me, I’m just trying to eat my lunch.”

She narrowed her eyes at you. Even though she couldn’t speak, it felt like she was degrading you. 

“…Uhm. Do you want some? I can give you some if you like.”

Her tummy grumbled at an embarrassing time, causing her to only flatten her ears.

“…Okay.” You timidly reached into your bag and pulled out a small chip. Hesitantly, you held it out to her and waited for her to crawl up to you. “I hope it’s not that salty. I know kitsune taste buds can be pretty sensitive, so it’s okay if you don’t like it—”

She lunged forward to sniff the chip before biting onto it and gnawing like a dog. Cronch cronch cronch. She had crumbs spill all over the floor, but she seemed pretty satisfied overall, looking up at you for more. “Oh! Do you want some more?” She nodded, her tail starting to wag. “I can give you more, then!”

You ended up sharing half your lunch with the kitsune. Throwing her whatever you found in your lunchbox, and watching her devour it on the floor of the shrine. After a while, she seemed to have taken a liking to you and jumped on the bench beside you to lie down, letting out a content, purring noise. After that little interaction, you started coming to the shrine more often to feed and hang out with the little fox. Weeks passing by of this little friendship, you didn’t think your routine would change until one, fateful, day.

As you climbed up the steps leading to your favorite spot, you saw not the fox you’ve grown so accustomed to, but a small, pink haired girl around your age. She was waiting patiently on the bench you always sat at, before her ear twitched, indicating that she noticed you. 

Turning around, she had those same lilac eyes as your little foxy friend, as  they glimmered in a way that felt so familiar to you the more you stared.

“Finally, you came!” The girl said exasperatedly, folding her arms and pouting at you. “I was waiting all day! You keep a girl hungry, you know.” 

“I— sorry?” You looked so confused when she ran up to you and grabbed your lunch. “Hey—!”

“So, what did you bring this time? Fried tofu for Friday? I hope so…”

“Hey! Those are for my fox friend!” You exclaimed, snatching your lunchbox back. “I don’t even know you!”

“Are you dumb? I am your fox friend!” The girl yelled back, tugging the lunchbox back. “It’s me, Yae Miko!”

“Miko?!” Your eyes widened and you took a step back. No way, how could this bratty and sassy child be Yae Miko? “No way…”

“Yes way! I was able to transform into my human form the other night. I’m strong enough now!” She grinned proudly and showed off her canine teeth. Although a bit bratty and too overconfident, you could tell it was actually her due to her unique markings and fluffy, pink, ears. “Now, hand over the tofu! I’ve been waiting all week for this!”

You pouted and handed her the takeout box with tofu inside. “…Fine.”

She grinned and looked at you smugly before taking the carton out of your hands. “Thank you…!” She began eating with the elegance of a toddler before pausing her chewing mid way. “By the way, since I can talk now, I’ve been wanting to ask you something.” 

“Huh?” You gasped when she suddenly jumped on top of you and looked at you with those curious eyes. 

“I’ve decided I want to marry you when we get older.”

“What?!”

She smiled at you before hugging you close. Wanting to feel you in a way that had your little heart beating. “You heard me, I want to marry you! That way, you’ll feed me yummy food forever!” She exclaimed, staring at you in a way you couldn’t refuse. “Please?”

“I— o-okay…” your tiny kid's heart didn’t have the guts to refuse, so the moment you said yes, Miko smiled and nuzzled you close. “Hurray! Now you can feed me fried tofu for the rest of our lives!”

If only you knew, she would marry you for reasons other than fried tofu…

HU TAO

Funerals were typically held on rainy days like in the movies, so why was yours held on such a bright and sunny day?

You stared at the coffin in front of you with regret, regret for not being with your grandmother more, as she passed away in her sleep due to old age. The funeral was directed by Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, which meant you had an untimely encounter with the director’s eccentric granddaughter.

She was so…strangely upbeat. Of course, she paid her respects to the dead, mourning in a way to convey her sadness. But she was still quite the spunky one and you couldn’t help but get irritated at how nonchalant she was. 

There she was, prancing around the funeral giving jolly orders like it was nothing. You knew it was a part of her job, but did she really have to be so happy about it? You were slightly annoyed and went to sit by the pond to take a breather, pulling at the itchy black clothes your parents made you wear, before feeling the tears well up in your eyes. 

“Grandma…” your tiny voice trembled, sniffing and wiping away your tears, trying your best not to cry in front of all your family members.

“Yoo-hoo? Does someone need a tissue?” You heard a voice call, gentle footsteps walking up from behind and dangling a napkin in front of your face. “Better wipe up that runny nose, your face is too cute to be all snotty!”

“Hu Tao…” you frowned, taking her offered napkin and looking away. “Please go away, I’m not in the mood to play right now…”

Her face softened at the sight of you trying to hide your tears. Shamelessly trying to wipe your runny nose while hiding the fact that you were crying. “Okay…I guess I’ll go…”

Before she could leave however, your hand instinctively reached out to grab her sleeve, tugging her back. “No wait, I…” you grimaced and stared down at the floor. “I’m sorry, please stay…” Even though you were still annoyed, you still wanted the comfort of another person. Even if that person was Hu Tao. 

“Oh? Ah, okay…” Hu Tao immediately sat down beside you and looked at you with worry. “…Your eyes are really puffy, you know.”

“I know.” You mumble tiredly, wiping your nose with your sleeve and staring at the water. “I haven’t cried like this in a while.”

“Understandable. I mean, your grandma pa—” she stopped herself from saying more before slowly hugging her knees. “Ah…sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You mutter, a deafening silence overcoming you two. “You’re just trying to help.”

Another awkward silence. Usually Hu Tao was more talkative when it came to the two of you, but right now she was quiet as she sat down beside you and picked at the grass. While the adults in the background talked amongst themselves, Hu Tao finally snapped out of it and reached a hand out for you to take.

“…Hug?” She asked softly, opening her arms like a baby bear cub. 

“…Hug.” You say quietly, moving over to hug her while trying your best not to sob all over her shoulder. “There there. No need to hold back.” Hu Tao says reassuringly, squeezing you tightly. “You can snot over my shirt if you want. I have others.”

“No, ew.” You chuckle through your sobs. “That’s disgusting.”

“Well, I don’t mind if it makes you feel better…” she murmurs against your ear. “I don’t like seeing you so upset.” 

“I don’t normally get so upset, sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. I just want to cheer you up.” 

She patted your back comfortingly, before placing her hat on top of your head. “You know, I wish we could hang out more often. You seem like a pretty cool kid.” She smiles brightly at you before pulling away from the hug. “I wanna be with you more! Not just at the funeral parlor.”

“Sniff, really?” You blinked your tears away and looked up at her. 

“Really.” She says with a smile, cupping your hands. “…Actually, I have an idea!”

She plucked a dandelion sprout from the ground and got down on one knee, holding out the flower to your face. “Let’s get married when we’re older! That way, I can cheer you up whenever we’re together!”

Your face flushed at the sudden proposal and you immediately panicked. “Ah, wait! Aren’t marriages a serious thing? Don’t you have to be in love for that to happen?”

“Pfft! Who cares? Marriages make people happy, so I wanna make you happy too…”

She slipped the dandelion between your ear and smiled, giving you a smile you would soon see walking down the altar…

DEHYA

You ran down the streets of your hometown, trying to avoid all the bullies chasing your tail and diving down random alleyways to lose them as quickly as possible. Unfortunately for you however, you found yourself at a dead end with nowhere else to go, a bunch of big kids getting ready to make you their next target, as they took the liberty of picking up rocks to throw at you.

“Ah, come on! Can’t you leave me alone just this once?” You looked aggravated and fearful for your life, backing up against the hardened brick wall that led to your demise. “Don’t you get tired of picking on me all the time? Find something else to do!”

Your desperate pleas fell on deaf ears as they got ready to launch their rocks. You sighed and crouched down on the ground, trying to cover your head for the inevitable pain you were going to feel.

“Okay, just please make it quick…”

You squeezed your eyes shut and resisted the urge to cry, bracing yourself for the impact that…strangely never came? 

Instead, you heard the loud yells of a rugged and tomboyish girl, the sounds of kids screaming in fear, before footsteps sprinted away from you. The sounds slowly grew quieter and quieter, leaving you to open your eyes and see a pretty, short-haired girl standing in front of you.

“They’re gone now, I chased them away for you.” Was all she said before extending her hand out. “Are you okay? Did they hit you or anything?”

Your cheeks flushed hot at the sight of her trying to help you, as the girl was very pretty and the way she was staring at you with those piercing blue eyes made your heart leap with relief. What was this feeling? Could it be? Did you finally develop one of those things called crushes? 

You realized she was still staring at you and shook your head no.

“Ah, no…they didn’t.” You slowly took her hand and stood up. “I’m okay, thanks.”

“You sure? Your knee looks pretty bad.”

You looked down to see what she was pointing at and sure enough, you had somehow scraped your knee during the chase. “Oh, I guess I didn’t notice…” you brushed off some sand that had gotten on it and winced. “Don’t worry, it’s just a scrape. It’ll heal.”

“Not if it gets infected.” She huffs, grabbing your hand with her own. Wow, even for a kid as young as you, she sure was strong. “Come on, I’ll take you back to my tent. My name’s Dehya by the way.” 

She tugs you down to follow her to her camp and makes you sit down, grabbing all the medical supplies her arms could carry before setting them down in front of you.

“Uhm, do you know how to use these? Only grownups should use alcohol.” You scrunched up your nose at the sight, causing Dehya to laugh beautifully. 

“Pfft, you’re thinking of the wrong kind of alcohol,” she grins, applying some on a piece of gauze. “That’s drinking alcohol, it’s the kind that makes grownups all dizzy and say funny things. This is rubbing alcohol.”

She gently applies the gauze to your scrape and watches you hiss in pain. The moment she sees tears well up in your eyes though, she immediately grabs your hand.

“Ah—! I’m sorry, but this has to be done! My dad told me you have to disinfect wounds so you don’t get germs on it!” She squeezed your hand in comfort, helping you push through the pain before setting the gauze down to begin bandaging you. “I know it hurts, but adults go through scary injuries all the time and have to go through the same thing. You can be brave for me, right?”

She looks up at you with those piercing blue eyes and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

“Hah! That’s the spirit!” She smiles and finishes wrapping up your knee. “There, all done! Can you walk?”

You shakily got up on wobbly knees before almost falling backwards, if not for Dehya instinctively catching you. “…Huh. Seems like you need a bit more recovery.”

She helps you sit back down before frowning after a few moments. “Actually, I have to ask, how long have you been bullied by those bigger kids?”

“Ah, for a little while…” you mumble in response, hiding your face in shame. “It’s okay, they’ll get bored of me eventually.”

“Eventually?” Dehya’s face furrowed with anger. “No! I’m not gonna let them keep bullying you! You deserve better!” She huffs and grabs your hand, before dramatically getting down on one knee. “I’m going to protect you till the end of time. My dad said that you should always protect those who can’t protect themselves, so I’m doing that for you!”

“But—”

She looked at you with such fiery determination and you shut up immediately.

“No buts. I’ve decided I’m going to stick with you for as long as I can.” She smiled and held your hands, leaning in close with a grin. “Perhaps we’ll even get married…”

Your eyes widened at the idea. Married to Dehya? I mean, it’s not like you were opposed to it…

“Married? Oh, uh, alright….” Dehya smiled and patted your head.

“Good. I’ll make sure you’re safe as long as you’re with me.”

She bows down to you like a knight would before taking your hand and kissing it. 

“That’s what a good wife does after all…”

NINGGUANG

Due to living in poverty, little tiny Ningguang had to make a living by selling seashells on the beach. She didn’t have time to play with the other kids, or go eat lunch with them by the pier, so she ended up not having a lot of friends to talk to, due to her poor upbringing and determination for money.

She would’ve ended up alone if not for you, a humble, yet curious child who took interest in what Ningguang wanted to sell. They were mostly handmade wares and shells she found lying on the beach, so there wasn’t really anything of high value. Despite that however, you were intrigued, and moved a little closer to take a look at what Ningguang had to offer.

She noticed you, standing up abruptly to present whatever she thought would interest you. “You seem rather enveloped by my jewelry,” Ningguang says, lifting up one of the trays of rings. “They’re all handcrafted and personally made by me. The pearls you see are freshly harvested from oysters found by the Liyue docks.”

She looked proud of her little business spiel and gently took your hand into hers. “Would you like to try one? I can help you find your ring size.”

Despite her living in rags and dirt, you couldn’t help but find her beautiful as she looked up at you with gemstone-brimmed eyes. Blinking up at you in a beautiful shade of scarlet, as her warm smile brought you newfound feelings you’ve never felt before. What were those feelings you may ask? Perhaps something akin to fascination, or perhaps…a small crush? 

Nevertheless, you knew this girl was beautiful, and wanted to get to know her better. After browsing around her selection of wares for you to purchase from, your eyes landed on a particular set of jewelry. “Are these a set? They both match…” you ask with curiosity, picking up one of the rings.

“Yes, I made those two in mind for a couple who happened to be walking by.” She picks up the second one in the pair and holds it out to you. “They are matching rings and can symbolize anything. Romance, friendship, familial bond…”

She smiles at you and gently slips one of the pairs onto your finger. “Here, it seems to fit onto you perfectly. Do you like it?” 

You did. It was absolutely beautiful and you admired the glittering pearl like it was the second prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. (The first one being Ningguang)

“It’s beautiful. But…” your eyes moved down to the matching pair in the set. “I don’t have anyone to match with…”

Ningguang raised a brow at this. Well, you could always buy another ring, so it’s not like this was a big deal.

“Oh? That’s a shame. Then perhaps you could get something else? Or, even just take one of the pairs and leave the other.” She thought quite logically about the situation and didn’t seem bothered by your dilemma. After giving her suggestion, she was a bit confused as to why you looked so upset. “Uh…is something the matter?”

“We can’t just separate the pair!” You exclaim, your childishness shining through. “They’d get lonely knowing the other pair is somewhere else…”

“But they’re just…rings?” Ningguang looked confused as to what you were throwing a fuss about. “Rings don’t have feelings!”

“You don’t know that!” You shout back, holding one of the rings close to your chest. “It needs to know it matches with someone. Then it’ll fulfill its purpose in life…”

Poor Ningguang looked so confused at the whole ordeal before sighing in slight disbelief. Perhaps she was a bit too mature for her age to understand, but it seemed that splitting the rings apart was troubling you to a great degree. 

“Alright, I have an idea…” Ningguang murmurs, taking the second half of the pair and slipping it onto her finger. “You can keep that one, and I will keep this one. That way we will match.” 

Your eyes lit up at this solution. “So we can be…a bonded pair?” You ask quietly, looking at her with intrigue.

Dammit. Little Ningguang’s face blushed and she couldn’t help but grow flustered. “Yes, we can be a bonded pair…” she grumbles, ignoring the way you were starting to look cute. 

“Hurray!” You smile gleefully, slipping the ring on and handing you some mora. “Now we can pretend to be married! Like real couples!” 

She felt the blood rush to her face as she looked down at the matching ring in her hand, a spur of newfound feelings bubbling in her chest, as Ningguang had never felt this way before. 

From that day forward, Ningguang vowed to become the richest woman in Liyue. All for the sole purpose of potentially buying you a real ring to marry…