jikan_rpg | Nov-Dec Catch-All

[Diluc never really uses the network but has found it to be very useful as a means of gathering information. It's almost as if people don't realise that others can see what they're talking about if they look in at the right time. For that very reason, he generally declines to post on it himself.

Kazuha steps in and Diluc closes the door behind him, and has a momentary double-take at what the other man says.]

Suns-... Oh. The maple. [Gods. One of these days he'll remember that Kazuha went ahead and named the tree. He hadn't discouraged it. It wasn't doing any harm to let him give the tree a name, after all. With a little shake of his head, he smiles and gestures for Kazuha to follow him.]

Do you want some tea?

[At the very least, Kazuha doesn't blame Diluc for not remembering that he'd named the maple. As far as he's aware, it wasn't a tradition that was practiced in Mondstadt. Not that it had been practiced in Inazuma for some time, until he'd revived it again in his wanderings.]

Please, I would like that immensely.

[He steps after Diluc, and while he's warm and clearly happy to see his friend, his demeanor is quite serious. It's fairly apparent this isn't just a housecall of pleasure, though reflecting on that himself, Kazuha feels a bit guilty for meeting up with Diluc only in times of need so far.

He makes a note to specifically ask the taller man for leisure time in the future before he leaves.]

I was hoping that you'd have some time to have a conversation with me. There's been some things on my mind and I'd like the advice of someone who feels similarly.

Edited (i did not want to use the same icon twice in a row) 2021-11-28 05:11 (UTC)

Of course. [Stated lightly to the acceptance of the tea. As he leads the smaller man through the house to the kitchen he watches him with an expression that slowly shifts into a concerned frown as Kazuha speaks.]

I'm sure I can always make time for you. [He says kindly, offering him a seat at the small kitchen table before he moves to begin putting some water in the kettle so he can heat it on the stove.

There aren't that many things that he and Kazuha feel similarly on. This hasn't impacted their friendship, Diluc feels, but he knows that the things they do feel very much the same about are not things that one simply pops by for a casual chat over.

While the water heats Diluc sits down, resting his elbow lightly on the table top.]

It sounds serious. What's on your mind?

[With most things, he and Diluc didn’t share much in common, and Kazuha is aware of this. He’d chosen his words carefully, knowing this, as there were few things that they’d share opinions on. It was more even just the implication they feel similarly than outright— another thing Kazuha is seeking confirmation on.

He settles as the table, taking care to lift his sword and haori to sit properly, then folds his hands on his lap.]

It’s more a conflict or morality and emotions. Admittedly, I am seeking multiple opinions.

[He needed various insights to help him decide how to press forward. He looks down at his lap, his lips pursed, and it’s more emotion than the samurai generally lets people see. He’s clearly embarrassed and also frustrated.]

There are two Harbingers here and generally I hold no love for the Fatui. However I feel that I am… growing close to them, and I fear that it may compromise my sense of code.

[Diluc's expression shifts immediately. The relatively calm and almost open look he had been wearing when he sat himself down and asked that question darkens, like a candle being snuffed out, and as if to avoid letting Kazuha see too much of it he stands up immediately and moves to where the kettle is slowly beginning to steam.

He keeps his back to the samurai and he lightly grips the counter with one hand, tapping one fingernail against it.]

Nothing good can come of association with the Fatui, Kazuha.

[It's like night and day (or perhaps day to night would be a more appropriate comparison), with Diluc's voice having gone quiet and level if only to force any shake of emotion out of it. He doesn't turn around, but shakes his head.]

They seed destruction and death wherever they go. Everything they touch turns to ruin.

[Perhaps... Perhaps Kazuha had underestimated the depth of his feeling when it came to the Fatui.

Though it's not just that. The fact of the matter is that he has met the two individuals that the samurai speaks of and his inability to be able to hate them as strongly as he wants to is something that both confuses and deeply troubles him. He hasn't spoken of it to anyone and he doesn't wish to speak of it here either.

His friend would find no positivity with regards to the Fatui when it came to Diluc Ragnvindr.]

[The taller man’s reaction is a bit more extreme than he expected, though he had expected a negative reaction to the topic of conversation at least mildly. Diluc had implied as much that some interaction with the Fatui had caused him to abandon the winery and leave Mondstadt for a time— a feeling he’d empathized with.

The samurai curls his hands tighter on his knees and swallows, his eyes still turned down.]

I… yes. I agree.

[And so it was more troubling that he found himself overlooking it, his heart warmed by their presence. It wasn’t good. He wasn’t sure if he was being played with, manipulated maybe.

He sets his jaw, saying nothing for a few more tense moments. Kazuha came here because he values Diluc’s thoughts. He needed to explain.]

I’ve spoken to the Shogun a bit ago. She shared that the Vision Hunt Decree had been largely due to foreign plot and Fatui meddling. Diluc, I… hm. [Normally so eloquent, he struggles for words for a moment.] Do you remember how I burned my hand?

[He had skimmed over so many of the details pertaining to his dealings with the Fatui that of course Kazuha couldn't have known... There was no way he could have known the sudden and entirely visceral response he would get from mentioning them. That Tartaglia and the Balladeer are here hadn't escaped his notice from the beginning but he hadn't tried to confront either of them because it hadn't seemed worth it to put himself at that kind of risk.

Both of them have surprised him, and he dislikes that intensely.

And the Shogun is here too? He had missed that, but it concerns him far less than anything regarding Harbingers. And yet news coming out of Inazuma was rarely good, when news made it out at all.

He shakes his head - at himself, not Kazuha's question - then turns around to the samurai and nods.]

I do remember.

[They had only spoken of it briefly, but--

Diluc closes his eyes and exhales slowly, then forces himself to resume his seat at the table. No, this was fine. He wasn't about to embarrass himself by being overly emotional about the Fatui. He can see that Kazuha is struggling with his own thoughts without adding more to the mix.]

Go on. I'm listening.

[It's almost a ritual now; Kazuha reaches for the decorative laces tying his visions to his shoulder, tugging the bow loose so he can slide off the milky white Inazuman Vision into his hands. He holds it gently, the cloudy surface shifting as he cups it in his palms.

Sometimes he finds himself lost in looking at the Vision for ages, his thoughts lost in the memories of its wielder. He doesn't regret his doomed mission to the Tenshukaku, even if it had spelled noting but a future of strife.

He can hardly tear his eyes from it to look up at Diluc as he speaks to him, but when he does his brows are creased, his face open with some of the burden he feels in his heart.]

This Vision belonged to my best friend. My... soulmate. [A smile tugs at the side of his lips, bittersweet.] When the Decree was enacted, I went into hiding. He challenged the Shogun to a duel.

[The outcome was clear. He thought he didn't need to elaborate.]

I think he wanted to be an example of courage, a beacon of light cutting through the stormy sky, but if it was all a Fatui plot he died for nothing. They murdered him.

[He remembers Kazuha telling him of why he was unwelcome in Inazuma. That he had stolen this masterless Vision from her. This must be the other half of the story.

The pain on his face is obvious and Diluc reaches both hands out, not seeking to touch the Vision the samurai holds at all but rather sliding his hands beneath Kazuha's smaller ones, cupping them gently. A frown creases his brow. The harm the Fatui could do with their interference across the whole of Teyvat truly knew no bounds.]

That can't be easy to consider. [He replies quietly.] And I know how you feel.

[To lose someone so precious to you because of the Fatui, finding that in the end they had died for nothing. It's a very specific kind of pain.]

But you don't sound certain.

I wouldn't wish this feeling on anyone.

[Diluc’s hands are supportive and empathetic. It reminds him that since he set off on his journey for justice and someone who could activate the Vision he’s met many kind people who’d helped him. Kokomi, Gorou, Ayaka, Beidou, Aether… just to name a few. Diluc now too.

He’s grateful.

This is a new and different sort of burden. Kazuha isn’t unfamiliar with questioning his choices and his path in life, but this one is a complicated matter of heart. He lets out a sigh, looking back down at the cold Vision.]

I was surprised to learn Tartaglia considers me a friend. I suppose it’s not unusual that I’d feel somewhat warm towards him. He shares a few qualities with my dear friend.

[Oh honey no.

He looks away, out a window. Anywhere but Diluc right now, as if he fears his judging gaze.]

It isn’t really Childe that’s complicated. It’s Scaramouche. He’s the Narukami Ogosho’s creation. He embodies many things I should find displeasure in, but I find myself receptive to his company. The Fatuus was… the only one to show up for my birthday, risking his life for it. Afterwards he insisted on making it up to me.

[Kazuha struggles again, shaking his head, but it’s at himself.]

What am I supposed to do with this? It feels like a storm is building inside me.

Edited 2021-12-04 06:39 (UTC)

[Something twitches across Diluc's face at the mention of Childe, easily missed if Kazuha isn't looking at the right moment. He hates that his feelings towards that particular harbinger are so complicated. Hating him should be easy, but it's turning out to be an unexpectedly difficult task.

Otherwise, he stays quiet. Numbed, almost, by the topic of conversation as he does little else but look down at the blank Vision and lightly move his thumbs against the sides of Kazuha's forefingers.]

I could tell you what I think you should do. [He murmurs a few moments after the samurai asks his question. For Kazuha, who has come to know Diluc as a more gentle and emotionally animated person than he was when he first arrived here from Mondstadt, the change in him must be jarring. There's very little on his face or in his voice to betray his thoughts.]

But I don't think it's something you would want to hear, nor something you would act on if I did say it. I prefer not to waste my words in that manner.

Edited (hate repeating myself lmao) 2021-12-04 15:04 (UTC)

[Even used to it, the lack of warmth from Diluc right now doesn’t bother Kazuha. Everyone had their own burdens, and he does not fault Diluc for being shaped in certain ways from his past. The samurai is a bit wrapped up in his own turmoil, the stress a heavy lump in his chest that seems to make breaths just a bit harder. It was nothing like those nights right after he stole the Vision, the pain of his charred hand a shadow to the pain in his heart.

He keeps his eyes focused on the calming sight of nature out the window for a few more moments, letting himself reflect and gather his thoughts before he turns his eyes back to Diluc’s.]

I prefer when people speak frankly to me, Diluc. Even if I don’t take your advice, your words are never wasted on me.

[He looks down at the Vision again. His right hand knows the shape of it; if he opens his hand enough, it almost fits perfectly into his palm like it’s become a part of him.]

I’m speaking with you because I find your advice valuable.

[The redheaded winery owner always makes a point of saying he dislikes idle chatter. He has bent this particular preference several times with Kazuha - a man with whom he finds passing the time with casual conversation to be unobjectionable - but right now the words he could say sit heavily in his chest and he would not want to say them if the breath he would use to do so would be wasted.

But Kazuha insists, so Diluc closes his eyes and breathes out a sigh that has an unsteady catch to the tail end of it.]

Then my advice is this. Stay away from Tartaglia, and stay away from the Balladeer. The Fatui are dangerous, and even when alone they remain so. Especially the Harbingers. They only care for one thing, and that thing will never be you or I.

[Though Diluc does have a firm and sharp-eyed gaze levelled on the smaller man there's little judgement to be found in it. People will make their own mistakes, their own choices, and Diluc has made enough poor or questionable ones of his own to not judge someone else for doing the same.

He lets go of Kazuha's hands, sliding them free and sitting back in his seat. There's a shift in his tone to something slightly more casual, though it sounds forced.]

I've been able to hold myself back from any impulsive actions when it comes to those two. Perhaps because they've haven't done anything to me directly. [Diluc has considered this often and he's certain the only reason he finds them less offensive than he might is that he holds no personal grudge against them as individuals.]

Should Dottore appear, I can't guarantee the same restraint.

[Though his eyes lack judgement, the coldness of it all is enough for Kazuha to place that upon himself instead. He knows he's a fool, and he wonders what his dear friend would think, what he'd say.]

The tea, Diluc.

[The samurai's voice is soft. The nobleman across from him has been restless since this conversation started, moving between the table and the kettle while Kazuha kept his head bowed low. He lets the masterless Vision settle on the table.]

I have considered I am just being played with and will be discarded as soon as soon as my apparent entertainment value has run out.

[Is his value of himself so low that he'd allow it to happen anyway? Kazuha has considered this too, on the thought of chasing present happiness rather than what may happen in the future. He looks up again, but his eyes flick back down as he pinches the Vision from the table, instead deciding to restlessly thread it back onto his shoulder, where it belongs.]

Why do you think I won't act upon your advice? I attacked the Balladeer the moment I realized what his nature was. I admit it was impulsive of me. It was also the first time we manifested kizuna between each other.

[Kazuha hadn't expected mercy, yet he received it. Looking back, it was maybe because the other feared damaging the gnosis he'd swallowed without thinking.

As he tightens the knot, holding the Visions in place, he looks back up.]

Dottore has hurt you personally.

[Diluc huffs out a soft, humourless laugh and shakes his head. Though he can't be certain if Kazuha doesn't realise what he has already said or if he's hoping that Diluc didn't notice, either possibility has its own kind of endearing quality.

But he does push himself up from his seat to attend to the now boiling kettle, pulling two cups and a teapot down and deftly putting everything together. A few minutes later he returns, setting the cups and teapot on the table and resuming his seat. The time away had given him a few moments to organise his thoughts into a less chaotic order, and hopefully one that Kazuha would not find insulting (however unintentional that insult would have been).]

I think so because I've been listening to what you've been telling me. [His expression is tinged with soft fondness as he says this, but then it subtly darkens as he looks away and sighs quietly.

There's a weight to that sigh. One that doesn't shift off him as he exhales.]

Dottore... [A tightness in his throat as he says the name again, drawn down with everything that man represents to him. He sinks back in his seat, attention fixed on a knot on the table.] I didn't find out immediately, but he was the one behind the events that led to my leaving Mondstadt. The death of my father. I'd kill ten thousand of the Fatui if it meant I could have Dottore's wretched neck in my hands.

[The few minutes while silence descends seem to stretch on forever. Usually, Kazuha enjoyed the quiet. He could spend hours of silence in a friends' presence if the situation called for it, and often times when traveling it did, save for when the scenery struck the samurai with inspiration and stirred his poetic soul. This silence was less welcome.

Perhaps Diluc might find his cluelessness endearing, but it left the samurai feeling frustrated with himself.]

I wasn’t aware a decision had been made already.

[His tone is mild, though Kazuha was clearly perplexed by this. He likes to think that if his fears were correct, he would not hesitate to remove the doll’s head from his shoulders. Though there were other complications— he might invoke the wrath of the Narukami Ogosho again, or that the killing might spell his own doom as well as the Harbinger warned him about the violent thoughts he’s had towards his creator.

He realizes he’s making excuses.

Pale brows knit, and he busies himself with his tea as Diluc elaborates on his hatred towards Dottore. It’s hardly unexpected that a Harbinger would have caused such pain — they’re known for causing chaos and destabilizing nations — but his eyes are kind as he turns them on the other man. Apologies and sympathy wouldn’t restore his father, so he spares him of useless words.]

Loss is a pain I empathize with. It’s understandable to want justice. If you got this chance, and you killed Dottore, what will you do then?

Edited (lmao i typoed a whole word) 2021-12-22 23:47 (UTC)

[Maybe Kazuha hadn't made a decision already but Diluc could read between the lines and he knew that turning on somebody that you already had warm feelings towards, even if turning on them was entirely deserved, was harder than it sounded.]

If I killed Dottore, my own personal need for vengeance would be satisfied. That matter isn't about justice. [What he has against Dotttore is personal. What he has against the Fatui themselves is far more than that. When Kazuha is done with the teapot he takes it in turn, pouring out a cup and curling both his hands around it despite not being cold.]

But the destruction of the Fatui isn't an entirely personal mission. It's something I'm now part of for other reasons. [He won't elaborate too much on the network he's involved with, but he doesn't see the harm in letting Kazuha know a little.] Before I returned home, the person who saved me brought me into an intelligence network spanning all of Teyvat. I know better than most what a risk both the Fatui and the Abyss Order pose.

[He turns the cup in a half-circle on the table, an idle gesture of distraction.]

So what would I do if Dottore was gone? I'd continue my work with them, as I have for the past year.

[Kazuha likes to think that he'd be capable of dealing with Scaramouche should he need to, though the ache in his chest at the thought is alarming to him in itself. He has to stick by his principles, of justice, his code. He should buckle for no one.

Kazuha makes a displeased sound, though he's listening to Diluc. The other man is far more knowledgable about the Fatui than he is— in his wanderings, he's killed some, though not without them attempting to engage him first.]

You are well connected. I'm not surprised in the least.

[The samurai looks down to his tea, watching stray tea leaves at the bottom like he could decipher the answer to his feelings from it.]

After spending time at war, I've chosen to dedicate my sword to saving lives over slaying them. However, I've taken many lives and understand the necessity of it, for every samurai is a killer. There's nobility in the path you've chosen.

[He takes a sip of his tea, holding it in two hands to help calm the slight tremble in his right hand. He closes his eyes.]

I'm sorry to have brought up hard memories, Diluc. I have few friends, so your willingness to speak with me despite them I am grateful for.

[Diluc doesn't really see the nobility in it, but he does see the necessity in it as far as he's concerned. He never chose the path he's on out of a sense of nobility, but it was certainly duty and a love for his country that kept him on it. In the end he would do what he had to do to protect Mondstadt, even if he could never tell anyone else about his work and could never really bring anyone else into it.

He wouldn't put another life at risk for the sake of having company in the darkness.

Kazuha apologises though, and he looks up with a small shake of his head. He catches sight of the tremble, considers it for a moment, then slides his hand across the table to cup it gently around the back of the samurai's knuckles.]

I'll admit I don't often find myself so willing to speak. There have been others, though very few, and... I haven't always found myself the best judgement of their characters. [Sometimes, even Diluc can think he can entirely trust somebody only to be proven wrong. At least here it isn't as dangerous.]

But... [He looks down then, lowering his eyelids slightly.] I will never be able to forgive the Fatui for what happened to my father. What I--

[The redhead trails off. He takes a deep breath in then lets it out slowly, as if shifting a great weight on his shoulders.]

The Delusion didn't kill him. I did.

[Had he known Diluc’s thoughts, Kazuha would reason that his sense of duty is a noble one— there is not much a difference in this scenario, where the Rangnvindr’s motives were out of his love for his people. After all, if that was not a noble purpose, then Kazuha’s purpose for returning to Inazuma and rejoining the war effort wasn’t either, and he needs that sense to justify the blood of fellow countrymen on his hands.

His eyes fall to where their hands are touching. With his hand resting, the tremor isn’t quite as noticeable; even with time and healing, the reopening of emotional wounds seems to bring back the weakness in his hand.

Kazuha doesn’t say anything at first. Diluc’s confession is heavy, and a circumstance he cannot compare to. He failed to save his friend, though it’s far different than having to provide the final blow himself. He can reason, with the heavy weight that seems to bear down on the outlander’s shoulders, that it was not a choice he had wanted to make. He can offer little comfort.

He turns his fingers, rubbing against his palm. His gaze is gentle, without judgement.]

It does not define you.

[He doesn't say anything at all for a couple of minutes. His voice feels stuck in his throat, held there by the admission he had just made - the first person he had ever told. Kaeya knew, but Kaeya was there. Diluc's expression is almost unreadable, his gaze unsteady as it stays fixed on where their hands are touching.

Strange, how Kazuha could become such a trusted part of his life that he could allow him to know something like that.

But he hadn't told him to gain comfort. He had said it so that Kazuha would understand the true heights of his hatred of the Fatui. Of everything they had done to his family, and to him.]

... It does. [He replies quietly, shaking his head.] It does, and it has ever since it happened. My ambitions died that day, Kazuha. All I had ever wanted to do in my life was make my father proud.

[It's likely that he would have left Mondstadt even without the response that the Knights inspector had had to the incident, but perhaps not in so dramatic a fashion. Even now, though... they had never investigated it, and he had kept his silence about what had truly happened that day.]

The Delusion... did something to him. When he used it against Ursa. I knew that he was dying and that it wasn't going to be quick, or painless. He knew it too. So, I...

[He goes quiet again. Still. Brings up the hand that isn't curled around Kazuha's to swiftly brush a hot, damp track off his cheek before it falls too far.

Sniffs slightly.]

It was the right thing to do. The merciful thing to do. But it changed me. That whole day changed me.

[The heavy grief that falls on Diluc's shoulders makes the samurai regret unwittingly leading him down the path of this conversation, if just for the way it visibly affects the other man. Being touched he trusts him enough to share it doesn't even cross his mind— his sole focus is on Diluc and the shifts of his body language.

This is, unfortunately, a feeling he does understand. Kazuha is not the same person he was before he'd witnessed his friend's execution. He is not the same person he was before his father died. The difference is, while he had failed to do anything to save them, it was not at his hand. This is a feeling he can only imagine.

He lets Diluc have his moment to collect himself, his fingers stroking against the palm of his hand, and then he pushes his seat back. Kazuha slips to his feet, his height making it more of a hop than a smooth stand, his hand still entwined around the taller man's. Standing at the edge of the table, he tugs him gently.]

Come with me.

[Sometimes things need to be said. Despite the weight it looks like he's carrying now something else has shifted - the kind of shift that can only come from a grief shared. The pressure against his shoulders is familiar, one he can take and will eventually lift up again, though that doesn't make it that much easier to deal with in the moment.

He's grateful for the moment that Kazuha gives to him and for the lack of reaction, more than anything else, to what he had said. Diluc looks up, confused, when he stands up and tugs on his hand but he nods and pushes himself up to his feet.

Like a trusting child, almost, being led by the hand by someone a foot shorter than himself.]

All right.

[Kazuha is mostly silent as he leads Diluc through the house, away from the kitchen and down to the entranceway. He steps down to the genkan, pauses, and then turns around slowly to look up at the redhead from their even more emphasized height difference. Instead of letting his hands go, he raises his other to join it in cupping his hand.]

We are going for a walk in the garden.

[He only lets go of his hand then, reaching for his scarf and haori. It's still cold out, after all.]

... Oh.

[That's... unexpected, but fine with him, and he reaches for his own coat and scarf in turn, pulling them on. Diluc feels strangely brittle and shaken, but he trusts Kazuha to handle him gently until he's able to pull his shields back up again.

Once they're ready and stepping outside, he reaches for the other man's hand again. He doesn't quite look at him as he does it, still flushed a little pink about the tops of his cheekbones, but he tucks Kazuha's smaller hand into his and squeezes his fingers around it.]

Are you warm enough?

Nov-Dec Catch-All

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wow dw thanks for eating this notif.

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