Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sethos doesn’t die in the duel that ruined his life, but part of him does.

Part of him dies in the split second that he registers Cyno standing in front of him, his spear brandished down at his face. Slowly, the tension in his body fades, and his hand falls to his side when he watches his own spear land upwards in the ground far behind his opponent.

“Fight’s over,” Cyno states with a deadpan face, “Do you yield?”

I lost. I lost the duel that meant the most.

Despite the turmoil in his mind, Sethos sighs after a moment, sighs out all the hurt he knows he will hold.

“You won.” And he offers the tiniest smile, trying to seem genuine.

But his heart has cracked in the center, breaking into thirds, and he decides then that he will hand over the first of the third. Despite it being part of himself, he knows he cannot keep it.

It was a fair fight. He deserves the Ba Fragment. If I am not strong enough to hold it, then he deserves to have it, and I don’t.

Cyno sheathes his weapon in a showy move, regarding him as he steps down. “Well then, looks like you found your answer.”

Sethos lets out a breathy “Heh,” knowing that that couldn’t be anything but false. He did not find any answer. He lost any grasp of understanding what his purpose is, just right now, as if it had been torn from him. He pushes himself up, his gaze lingering on the platinum-haired man who he thought he once knew, but who has forgotten everything they shared. Then he turns, turns to watch his Grandfather - more morbidly curious to see if he’s disappointed in him, or if he still loves Sethos at all.

He can’t focus on his Grandpa’s expression in the slightest. Perhaps he dreads knowing what Bamoun feels about him now, now that he’s weak, now that he can’t live up to anything he was destined for.

And in that moment, he decides that it doesn’t matter. Because Bamoun will still be there. Chasing after divinity is pointless. If he’s not destined, then he just isn’t. 

He’d rather live simply anyways.

Sethos nods to himself, his mind made up. Lifting his hand, he watches it as he activates the power inside of him for one last time. Electro energy fills his field of view, crackling in the air around him and making it difficult to sense anything else. Still, through the haze, he glances over at Cyno, reminding himself once more who this power will be going to.

And as Cyno meets his gaze, he looks away once more, reaching deep inside of himself to draw out the Ba Fragment once and for all. His fingers tremble, and his vision goes blank white, all senses leaving him for a split second before he is finally truly alone.

Sethos becomes coherent not moments later, and though he feels like he’s lacking something as vital as his own veins, he does not dare let it show. Because he has an audience.

“I give his glory to you,” He states, giving the power meant for him to the other who it was ultimately meant for more. 

Cyno receives it with grace, expertly activating it and joining it with his own in a spectacle of light. Sethos shields his eyes, but starts when a voice, not just any, echoes into the room.

“I’ve seen that light.” Bamoun starts, his voice shaky and his eyes glimmering with reverence.

And Sethos feels his finger twitch, as he watches his Grandpa, the one who loved him the most, staring in complete awe at a stranger - a traitor at worst. In that moment, Sethos can tell what he was unable to give to his Grandfather. His heart aches, another piece threatening to leave him fully. He breathes out a shaky breath, glancing between Bamoun’s eyes as he does not register any of his words, begging wordlessly for Bamoun to just look at him.

Bamoun does not spare him a single glance. For the whole last five minutes of his life, he does not spare a glance to Sethos, who is right in front of him, and why? Why will he not look at me? I thought he loved me. Was all he loved Hermanubis? Was that all I was to him?

The light fades, and Sethos tears his gaze back to the man standing next to him. The traveler, the fairy, and the man with ears also run up, but he does not register a thing. All he notices is the way Cyno’s eyes narrow when they land again on Bamoun, and Sethos follows his gaze immediately, seeking out desperately what he sees.

He knows what he will find. A second section of his heart, missing.

Sethos’ eyes remain wide as he staggers up to the throne, only in his stride not bothering to put on an appearance. His guests’ eyes are closed anyways. He only stops when he’s a few feet away, staring. His mind is fuzzy, a million thoughts creating nothing but an incomprehensible, muffled buzz. His head pounds, his ears hear nothing.

He does not quite recall when he shut his eyes, or when he kneeled, or anything at all that ended up following. He knows he cries against Bamoun’s prepared casket before anyone else arrives, and he knows that he collects himself for the actual funeral, as much as he can. 

In front of the outsiders, he’s shaking with the effort of seeming kept-together. His voice is hoarse as he converses with the others, and all he can think about is getting through this. He cannot think about the implications when Cyno hands the reign of the temple over to him, and he cannot think about the genuity behind the kind words handed to him in the same breath.

His head is swimming. He lets slip one of his thoughts, “Doesn’t that render everything that we’ve been through up until now, meaningless?” And he doesn’t even care about Cyno’s reply. He’s too lost in his head. In the end, he just lies. He says it’s all okay. That this outcome couldn’t be better.

He doesn’t care to focus on what happens next.

Because his heart has broken into thirds, three of three are lost. And he may have only lost three things, but it was so much more than just that.

Sethos did not just lose a Ba Fragment, he lost his strength and the hope of conquering anything. He lost something that has been with him since he was a child, as long as he can remember. He lost something that held every promise to its heart, to his.

Sethos did not just lose Bamoun, he lost his Grandfather who loved him more than any. He lost peacefulness, community, understanding, the part of him that could love and be loved. He lost the one he cared for most.

And with that, he lost himself. It’s as simple as that, nothing more, nothing less. He lost himself - the person he has always been, and the person he thought he could finally become.

Devoid of his strength, his love, and his self - the three pieces of his glass heart - he has nothing left.

After all, when this glass heart, broken in thirds, is lost of all three pieces,

What does that leave you but an empty man?

…

Sethos leaves to his room first. He does not bother to watch his guests leave, he does not bother to indulge the questions of everyone around him. He’s shaking, stumbling, coherency and all thought lost behind everything that he lost.

Maybe he lost his mind, too.

He shuts the door behind him and breathes, trying to release the tension that wraps around him like a taut rope, trembling in his muscles and pounding in his blood. It doesn’t work, so he cries.

This time, alone in his room, he lets everything out. He sobs in place for an eternity, his thoughts growing into daggers that stab him in the back, in the head, through the heart, through the mind.

Then, he moves. Because he can never stay still when things get this bad.

He starts by pacing. In his room, he paces in circles like his mind keeps going in.

I lost. I couldn’t live up to his expectations. He died with someone else in his gaze. He was disappointed in me in his last moments. Because I lost. Because I couldn’t live up to his expectations. And he died with someone else in his eyes. He was disappointed in me, even up to his last breath. All because I lost.

It’s not long before his guilt segues into anger. Anger like he used to feel in intense bouts, now pooling heat in his gut. And his fingers itch. His room feels too nice, each happy photo and clean vase mocking him for everything he’s done wrong.

He first knocks off the books from his shelf. They fall loudly onto the ground, and the noise pierces his aching head with a horribly satisfying feeling. So he knocks the next row over too, then taking a book and ripping a few pages clean off. Throwing them across his room, he laughs, then sobs, then screams. Another book, more pages, crumpling a few of them, the corners poking into his hands, and again it is not enough for him.

He tears a carefree photo off the wall, it crashes on the floor, the glass pane shattering. It’s not enough.

He throws the small table to the ground, a thud echoing through his room, and it’s not enough.

He screams, clutching his hair as if he could ideally tear it off of his head. It’s too quiet.

Sethos turns around again, his clouded gaze landing on the pretty porcelain vase gifted to him by a friend. He strides towards it, then kicks it over. It shatters beautifully on the ground, but Sethos, in his daze, still cannot help but feel like it’s not quite enough.

He reaches down and picks up a shard of porcelain; it digs sharply into his tight grasp, cutting into his skin, and he is suddenly reminded of something he used to do.

I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t resort to old habits.

This thought tries to make itself known, but everything is too fuzzy to even spare it some consideration. His gloves have already been discarded, his skin shines, too clean, too nice. Old scars have disappeared by now, and his skin begs for new ones to litter this beauty it doesn’t deserve.

Sethos’ thoughts fall quiet - not silent, no, just quiet - when he realizes he’s already gone through with it. His adrenaline is high, and it takes him a moment to register the tingling pain, but it’s there. It’s not just one, too. Blood trickles from about four gashes in his arm, two up by his shoulder and two down on his wrist.

Hell, I cut deep. I’m bleeding everywhere.

He hates that this works. It always does, shocking him out of whatever breakdown he’s been seized by that has stopped all rational thinking, or thinking in general. He hates that it works so well, because it’s easy to resort to and so hard to stop.

But right now, he drops the shard in a corner, pulls his water out and pours it onto a rag to wash the cuts. His first aid kit follows shortly after, and he falls asleep with a crude bandage job.

…

A few days pass, and he’s off to the city of Sumeru for the first time. He marvels at the opportunity, the glorious Akademiya towering over him, the bustling city around him.

Though the scars have collected on his arms, even in these past few nights, his eyes are sparkling with something new. A faint glimmer of hope, of excitement.

With a grin, he greets everyone he meets. A wave, a smile, a word or two, after a while, even the introverted students seem to not have trouble talking to him. He starts running errands, staying in a small inn as he waits for a meeting day with the Akademiya staff to coordinate collaboration between the Temple of Silence and the Akademiya itself.

Everyone is so nice here! In this city, in Gandharva Ville, in Port Ormos and even in Vimara Village, which he only has visited once or twice so far. Each person he meets is kind in return, and running errands, he starts to collect many little trinkets.

Still, nights are hard. Because nothing distracts him, left alone with his thoughts, with his safety dagger that has contradicted its purpose. The scars collect, build even. And after five nights in a row, he knows that he’s in too deep - deeper than the cuts he makes in himself.

It’s an addiction.

After a particularly difficult day, he meets someone. A guy with a large hat who he’s seen flying around the city piques his interest, and they converse. After one chat, the man disappears without so much as a goodbye, and Sethos sets his mind on one thing.

He’s interesting. I want to get to know him.

So Sethos sets his mind on tracking the guy down - Hat Guy, he’s heard him called - and talking with him as much as possible. He learns very quickly that he is the one blatantly unkind person in the city, and he smirks at the opportunity to dismantle the theory that he’s heartless.

They talk, and talk, and talk. Sethos has become adept at finding him, and Hat Guy has practically given up running. Which is a start - even if there are still no meaningful conversations being had.

One thing brings them closer in the end, despite it being dreadful for Sethos.

“Waaah, It’s so hot~!” He whines, tugging his scarf off as he leans against the tree bark, fanning his face with the end of the fabric. The tassels occasionally hit his face.

Sitting next to him on the branch with a less-than-pleased grumble, Hat Guy glances over. “Surely this isn’t worse than the desert?”

Sethos feels himself tensing up, but forces it away as he meets Hat Guy’s gaze with a grin, “Is it that obvious I’m from there? Or have you done your research?” He knows his attire is a hint, but surely it isn’t a dead giveaway. Only some of the Akademiya staff should truly know.

“Shut up. I’m not wrong, am I?” Hat Guy still insists.

“No, It’s just a lot more humid here! I would’ve thought it’d be cooler, but I suppose not.”

Hat Guy leans over, his fingers latching onto the top of Sethos’ sleeve and his hat knocking against his forehead, “I’m sure you wouldn’t feel so hot if you took these damn things off-”

Sethos frantically grabs Hat Guy’s hand, preventing him from pulling down the fabric. They both still for a moment, until Sethos composes himself and lets out a laugh.

“Ah, Haha, I’m fine. I promise.” He tries tugging away the other’s hand.

Hat Guy frowns, not moving his fingers. “What reason do you have to hide anything?”

“Hiding? I’m not hiding anything. What about you, huh? You wear black sleeves in this weather, too. Anything to hide?”

“I don’t have anything to hide, unlike you.”

“Where do you get the notion that I do?”

“Nobody without something to hide gets defensive like this.”

“I’m not defensive, you are. How come you don’t show me what’s under there, huh?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Me neither.”

Hat Guy goes quiet, though not from surprise or because he’s stumped, more with a ‘Are you serious?’ sort of expression. Suddenly, he tugs on the fabric of Sethos’ sleeve, pulling it down and revealing the first of the many scars that have incessantly plagued his skin as of late.

Sethos gasps, pushing away Hat Guy’s hand - which has fallen weak - and pulling his sleeve back up, covering his scars once more. “Y- You can’t just-!” His eyes remain wide, he trembles slightly, fear seizing his heart. A block in his throat prevents any more words.

The other man is watching him intently, staring at his fingers clutching the top of his sleeve. Sethos can see thoughts turning in his mind, before he finally meets gazes. “Those are not old. Did you…”

Sethos tenses, though his gaze is locked intensely with Hat Guy’s, knowing the damned question that’s about to leave his mouth. No, please, just don’t make me admit it.

“...Did you get into a fight recently?”

Sethos is still. Before his thoughts falter and he laughs at that. Laughs once, sharp, forced, because really, he wants to cry. But he can’t, not here, not in front of him. This is absurd. “Yeah, sure. You could put it that way.”

Frowning, Hat Guy crosses his arms, “You need to take better care of yourself. Those could get infected.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll have my doctor look at it.” That’s a lie. He can’t see these, I’ll probably get sent to a mental ward. He changes the subject, reaching his own hands forward to find the origin of the other man’s sleeves, seeing as they aren’t connected to the bodysuit he wears. “Anyway, you have yet to show me what you say you aren’t hiding! Let me see!”

As soon as he touches skin, Hat Guy swats his hand roughly away with a scoff, then vanishing in a whirlwind of bright anemo energy, leaving Sethos alone in the tree with nothing but his heart and his scars.

He laughs again, louder, multiple times, until it dissolves into sobbing. The transition is gradient, so he isn’t sure when exactly he starts crying, but eventually it becomes very clear that that’s what’s happening. He sobs without tears, having cried so much lately that it seems he has nothing left. So he just hurls out cries as if regurgitating them, feeling nauseous. Without reason, without purpose. He can’t help it at this point.

That night, there are no less scars.

… 

Sethos can’t always avoid Cyno. He likes his cousin, yes, and can tolerate small talk or get-togethers, but he can’t stand TCG.

It’s complicated why he doesn’t like it. He could say it’s because it’s pitting the two against each other, or because he’s so bad he can’t enjoy it, or because he knows he’s just going to lose again. 

Today, he’s been roped into a game at Tighnari’s house, one he couldn’t deny since they wanted him to meet Collei, too.

He sighs before opening the door, announcing his entry though both Tighnari and Cyno seem to have noticed his approach first. The two of them are sitting at a table, already engrossed in a game.

Tighnari stands to greet him, walking over, “Hi, Sethos-” He hesitates halfway through, his nose scrunching up. “You smell like infection. Did you get sick?”

Caught. He chuckles, attempting to seem nonchalant as his fingers start to fidget. Guess being Valuka Shuna means exceptional hearing AND scent. Maybe he can see super far away, too. “I’m fine, Tighnari. Thank you for worrying.”

“What do you mean, you’re ‘fine?’ Don’t just brush something off! Are you ill? Wounded? Let me look.” He comes closer, and Sethos stiffens under the pressure.

“A- Ah, no, it’s really fine. I have my own doctor, he said, uh… that I’m okay.”

“I don’t think I trust that doctor. Since you’re here, just let me take a look. Free of charge.”

Sethos squeezes his arm, glancing between Tighnari and Cyno. I… I can’t…

“No, I don’t…”

“Come on, Sethos. Don’t be like this. I’m a doctor, I have to help. You aren’t leaving until we talk about this, okay?”

I can’t… He can’t see. Cyno can’t see. Nobody can see. They will know. I need to get out of this.

“It’s… uncomfortable. It’s in an uncomfortable spot. I don’t want to show it to you.” He manages, his grip on himself tightening.

“We can go in the other room,” Tighnari offers, his voice softening.

That won’t help. That won’t do anything. Sethos thinks, but the ear-twitching man is already leading him into the back room, and his throat closes as he can’t do anything but follow.

He sits down on the bed, not moving for a long time. He stares down at the floor, knowing he must look dreadful with the expression he wears. Eventually, his voice is found when Tighnari cocks his head. Still, he only whispers. “Don’t… Don’t be mad… And don’t tell Cyno.”

Sethos’ sleeves come off, then slowly he unwraps the bandages he remembered to apply as an extra layer of protection after yesterday. He stares down at his own fingers, unable to meet the other’s gaze. His thoughts tighten around his neck, his throat closed like a rope has cinched it shut. He hears a gasp from Tighnari, an “Oh archons…”

And he knows why. The sight must be appalling. He’s collected scars like TCG cards, stacks of them lining his arms. You can’t go four inches up without finding a new one. He’s mangled himself, diced his own skin to bits. He can’t look in the mirror anymore.

“Oh archons, Sethos,” Tighnari repeats, “Oh archons. This is… horrible. Are all of these… self-inflicted? Each one?” His voice is shaky, probably horrified.

Sethos can only nod. I might throw up.

His arms are lifted by gloved hands that carefully look them over. “Oh, Sethos… Archons… These are fresh . I’d say all under two weeks? Like, since we… since…” His voice trails off, and Sethos lifts one hand to cover his mouth, bile rising inside. “Oh… I should have known. I’m sorry, Sethos. Really. I’m going to get you some medicine. Wait here.”

Tighnari drops his arms, exiting the room, and Sethos can hear conversation on the other side.

“How bad are they?”

“Patient confidentiality, Cyno. You know I can’t tell you details if he doesn’t want me to.”

“You believe that, but these walls are thin, and my hearing is almost as good as yours. I already know the cause. How bad are they?”

That’s all Sethos needs to hear. He tugs his sleeves back on and stands, almost dizzy from how fast he gets up. He goes to the other room, walking straight down the middle, straight to the door. “I forgot I had somewhere to be…” He chokes out, his hands itching to cover his mouth in case he actually vomits like he feels like doing.

“Wait, Sethos! Your meds - I haven’t finished getting them!” Tighnari’s voice calls after him as he exits, passing a bubbly young girl with green hair whose gaze follows him curiously, and he envies her for not seeming to have a care in the world. Tighnari shouts after him again.

I don’t care. I need to get out of here.

That night, there are no less scars.

But he’s too guilty to add many more.

…

“So, yeah. Just another day.” Hat Guy rolls his eyes at the end of his spiel, crossing his arms as they walk aimlessly.

Sethos, by his side, listens with a smile. He’s surprised that the other has grown more open, warming up to him and finally revealing more about himself. Surprised, but he likes it. It’s comfortable.

“Yeah? Sounds pretty eventful to me.” Sethos offers, indulging in his ramblings. Seeing this side of Hat Guy is nice, really. Despite usually being the one to fill the silence, he feels peaceful just listening for once.

Hat Guy groans, “Yeah, well every day is like that. It’s just annoying.” After he seems to finish, a silence falls over them, and he clicks his tongue. “What about your day?”

Sethos blinks, surprised that the conversation is being handed over to him. Still, he smiles. “It was uneventful. Literally nothing has happened… except that I saw you, of course. So that was nice.”

Hat Guy turns his head away, scoffing a little. “Well… Don’t get used to it.” He manages, his voice acting as a bite even though the tone is softer than the usual insults he slings around.

They come up to a North Sumerian shore, and Sethos realizes how far they’ve walked, having come all the way up near Bayda Harbor. Watching the water lapping upon the sand, the great waterfalls from Fontaine sending clear water to the Sumeru beach, he smiles again. His steps cease, he closes his eyes, the cool breeze sifting through his hair and making something feel special about this moment.

The sound of the footsteps from the other man halt. Sethos opens his eyes again with a contented sigh, his gaze finding Hat Guy staring at him as if dumbfounded. A pink dust graces his cheeks, and Sethos cannot help but chuckle. “What’s the matter? You’re staring.”

Hat Guy frowns, his lips pulled tight, and he tilts his head downward, touching the brim of his hat to hide his expression. He clicks his tongue again. “Tsk! I was not.”

“Yes you were~!” Sethos teases, stepping forward with a bounce to stand next to him, hands behind his back as he grins. His own head leans downward, underneath the hat so that he can meet the other’s gaze. He locks eyes with the flustered man, seeing red cheeks and wide eyes. Sethos just laughs again, unable to help it.

“Stop that! I was not!” Hat Guy’s voice is almost a whine, his frown contorting further and his face flushing a deeper shade of red that has Sethos unable to do anything but laugh more. Hat Guy scoffs again - a habit of his, Sethos has noticed - and pushes him away lazily by the shoulder. “I said stop. You’re so annoying.”

He has to collect himself before trying to speak again, but seeing again the pout on Hat Guy’s face has him laughing all over again. He takes a few deep breaths, his smile hurting his cheeks. And the fact that it is, is nice. I like this. “You were, though. Anyways!” He steps back, kicking off his boots and starting to make his way towards the shore, “We’re at the beach! Let’s have fun!”

The water runs over his bare feet, the coolness spreading through him. Being here is stunning, the view incredible, especially since he’s only seen the ocean for the first time recently, in Port Ormos. This beach is the only one he really knows, with sand and all, just like he’s heard it’s like. He wiggles his toes, letting the wet sand get between them as he stares at the water, still smiling uncontrollably and holding his shoes by his sides.

Hat Guy is quiet, still not having answered. So Sethos turns to look at him, stepping backwards further into the water, the coolness splashing around his ankles. Hat Guy is staring at him again, the edge to his expression gone for a split second before he shifts when he notices Sethos’ attention. He frowns, glancing away as if he doesn’t know what he should even look like right now.

Eventually, the man sighs, lifting the intricate hat off of his head, indigo hair shining in the sun. He pulls off his zori sandals, then discarding both articles of clothing onto the sand. Then, pausing, as if it’s an afterthought, he tugs off his kimono, which lands next to the other clothes on the sand. He steps towards the water himself, wearing only his bodysuit and shorts. “Fine.”

Sethos feels frozen in place, this time he’s the one staring. His gaze lingers a little too long on the man’s figure, so he just chuckles. He tugs off his own scarf, untying the cloth around his waist, throwing both back onto the sand - along with his shoes - though they don’t quite reach and end up landing halfway in the water.

“What’s so funny?” Hat Guy frowns, kicking Sethos’ clothes away from the water as he steps into it, his feet splashing into the cool waves that lap around his ankles. He glances down at them, maybe noticing the light’s refraction.

“Nothing.” Sethos giggles again, turning back to the expanse of the ocean. The sun is still fairly high in the sky, but only above the plateau of Fontaine, casting a yellowish hue over the glimmering water. He walks further forward, the water soaking through his capris, and soon into his shirt around his waist as the ground drops, sending a spike of chilliness through him.

“Where are you going?” Hat Guy’s voice reaches him, and he turns around to see the man stopped where the water goes up to his knees, whereas Sethos is already up to his chest.

With a smile, Sethos bounds back to meet Hat Guy, the water dragging him back until he is able to splash through it. When he’s right in front of the other, he leans down to catch some water in his hands, then splashing it up onto Hat Guy, who yelps.

“What the hell was that for?!” Hat Guy snaps, kicking water back up at Sethos, catching him in the face. Sethos sputters a bit, then dissolves into laughter as he splashes Hat Guy back again, stepping behind so that he can avoid another attack.

He continues laughing, ending up choking on some of the water that enters his mouth, but it only makes him laugh harder - even though it makes his stomach churn. He just ignores that.

The two of them splash back and forth, stepping deeper into the water as their little altercation becomes more intense - it’s difficult to even see who’s splashing with all the water that’s being thrown. But still, Sethos keeps laughing, and Hat Guy is letting himself do the same.

Sethos predicts the dropoff of ground beneath them, but Hat Guy doesn’t, and he yelps as he falls forward onto Sethos, the two of them landing in the water.

There’s a rush of water around him, his eyes and mouth shutting tightly as he falls in, then starts simply sinking, his hands easing into the silt underneath. He can’t open his eyes, lest the saltwater damage them. He feels Hat Guy’s hands on his chest for another moment before they suddenly disappear, and he hears a splash of water over him as the other man emerges.

Sethos stands as well, coughing water up and pushing his hair out of his face. He rubs his eyes of the saltwater before opening them, finding Hat Guy standing awfully close, staring at him with concern and soaked indigo hair. Sethos flashes a little grin as water runs down his face, and the other frowns, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. “Geez, don’t scare me like that!”

“You were worried~? How come?” Sethos grins, leaning in.

Hat Guy leans backwards in response, his eyes narrowing. “You looked like you had drowned underwater or something. It’s only natural that I would worry I had murdered you. I don’t want to become a wanted criminal again.”

This is intriguing, multiple of his points are. Sethos tilts his head. “You saw me underwater… while you were also underwater? Saltwater is bad for your eyes, you know. Didn’t it hurt?”

Hat Guy pauses, turning to face away. “...I… Uh, don’t have those human reactions.” From his tone, it seems he knows he’s just revealed something huge, and expects an equally large reaction.

“Oh.” Sethos’ eyes widen, he searches Hat Guy’s expression. That’s… certainly interesting. I should ask about that later. Instead, he smirks. “And is that why you took so long to stand up? Cuz you were looking at me?”

Hat Guy glares at him, some deep confusion and bewilderment swirling in his expression. “Wh- Huh? N- No, no.” He pauses, glancing down at the water. “You don’t even care that I’m not human?”

Sethos shrugs, hesitates a little, as he doesn’t know if he doesn’t… care. “Uh, well… It doesn’t change much, I guess. It’s interesting you were hiding it, though. It makes me wonder what else you’re hiding.” He smirks a little, flicking a bit of water at the other.

He doesn’t get a nice segue into the third thing he wanted to ask about, (being the fact he said “become a wanted criminal again ”) as he’s rudely interrupted by Hat Guy grabbing his wrist.

“Have you… gotten into any battles recently?” He asks, the edge in his voice softening like it’s been brushed away into a background of concern.

Sethos tenses, trying to pull his hand away as he forces a guilty smile onto his face. “Are you gonna ask that every time you see me? I… Yes, I did.”

Hat Guy’s eyes lower, gazing off to the side with a small air of something simply sad. He lets go, and Sethos just hurts. That hurts, the quiet sadness of the man in front of him, his violet eyes dull.

Finally, Hat Guy’s voice is found. “That’s not good. Take better care of yourself. Wash those so that they don’t get infected after today… if they aren’t already. Have you spoken to your doctor?”

Oh, I should do that.

He remains quiet, unable to lie to Hat Guy and his dull, violet eyes. Usually, he doesn’t struggle to lie, it comes like second nature. But not in front of him, somehow. So he is silent, unable to lie, and still unable to admit his fault - his fear.

Hat Guy lets out a small groan, turning back to the shore and starting to walk.

A pang of a stronger fear seizes him, and he follows, chasing after Hat Guy, his legs heavy and somehow he feels as though he can’t catch up. His words stagger in his throat. “W- Wait, Where- What- Where are you- Wait, I’m- I’m sorry-”

Hat Guy doesn’t meet his gaze, continuing to walk forward until he steps onto the sand, which clings to his wet feet. “I’m going home. You should, too. It’s getting late.”

Sethos feels like he’s stumbling through viscous syrup, almost tripping on his own feet until he reaches the sand himself. His mind is hazy and hot, dizziness swaying him. His gaze never leaves Hat Guy, as if the other man will escape if he isn’t watching. “Wait, no, I’m sorry. Please… I’m sorry.”

Pulling his kimono back on, Hat Guy sighs, finally glancing back at him, his expression unreadable. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I just want to go home, okay? Not because of you.”

Sethos stops, watching as Hat Guy turns towards the rainforest, his hat placed on his head and holding his shoes and socks, walking barefoot. Sethos watches, his mind clouded and nothing registering at all except for the fact that he’s walking away.

Hat Guy stops suddenly, a long pause lengthening between them like a string rolling from one to the other. He sighs, then turns to face him. “I’ll hang out with you again some other time. Today was…” Another pause, and he turns away again as he murmurs something that Sethos doesn’t even catch. And he walks away, disappearing into the foliage.

Sethos’ shoulders slightly sink, but he doesn’t feel a lot better like Hat Guy likely intended the words to make him feel.

He just stands there, unable to even move. Thinking is difficult, too. He hates feeling like this, because it’s just the same thing he’s been feeling for days, almost weeks. The moments of respite, of joy, of distraction, don’t even work at this point. Sure, he’ll feel happy for a while like earlier, but also like earlier, it just gets crushed within moments. It can so easily get crushed.

He doesn’t leave the beach until the moon is high in the sky, tracing lines in the sand since he can’t on his skin just yet.

But when he gets home, there are no less scars. 

…

His scars hurt, and Sethos knows he hasn’t been taking care of them. When he reads a book on wound infection and how to prevent and treat it, he winces at almost each and every thing it says to do or not do, knowing he’s neglected to follow very simple instructions like these.

Wash hands before treating . Whoops.

Clean the wound by running warm water over it for several minutes. Yikes.

Allow skin to air dry before covering. Oh.

Make sure the wound is free of dirt before applying bandages. Ah… I think I did that?

Change dressing at least once a day. Replace immediately if damp or dirty. Do not pick at scabs or scars. 

See a doctor if the wound does not show improvement within one to two days.

Sethos groans, shutting the book and resting his throbbing head on the table. He knows that it's unavoidable now. He has to see a doctor. So he weighs his options. 

One, he could go back to the temple and visit his usual doctor, but he might get in serious trouble for what he’s done. He doesn’t really want to deal with that right now. Or ever, preferably.

Two, he could go to the Bimarstan. Someone he doesn’t know, someone who won’t judge him or hold any knowledge of what led him to do this to himself. But still, they’re far more strict with putting people at risk of “hurting themselves or others” into hospitals for extended periods of time.

Three, he could visit Tighnari. He already knows about the scars, and probably won’t hold him hostage for it… but that’s scary. Someone he knows personally, a friend even, dealing with something as serious as Sethos’ struggles with self-harm. 

Sethos shudders as the word pops up in his head, self-harm . That’s what he’s been doing this entire time, but it’s so hard to think about, let alone say aloud. He hasn’t dared utter it; each time he tries, it gets stuck in his throat. He just can’t.

He fishes his attention back into the matter at hand, deciding maybe the third option would be best. Even if it’s hard.

On his way out of the city, he stares up at the clouds, full and light. It feels nicer than he does. His head still hurts, it’s hotter than usual but he’s shivering slightly, and he can taste the acid in his stomach. I think I might be getting sick.

Still staring upwards, he almost trips when he runs into a small child at a market stall, yelping as he stumbles. He catches himself, then turns to look if the young girl is okay, worry spiking through him.

He doesn’t expect to see the curious eyes of the Dendro Archon herself peering at him.

Stammering, Sethos bows his head immediately, offering an apology and a greeting at the same time with rushed words. “I’m really sorry, Lesser Lord Kusanali! Good morning, I hope you’re having a good day so far!”

A light chuckle reaches him, and she holds out her right hand for a handshake. “Do not worry, Sethos, I am alright. And yes, it is a lovely morning. My day has been swell. How has your health been?”

Sethos gingerly takes her hand, shaking it politely yet with care, his nerves getting to him. Even though they’ve conversed before, she still has a somewhat overbearing presence. “Ah- Uh, yes, that’s good to hear. I’ve been alright? Why do you ask?”

She smiles brightly, glimmering. “Is it not polite to? Oh, and Hat Guy has talked plenty about you.”

His head feels like it’s swimming, trying to grasp hold on the meaning of this whole conversation with slippery fingers. “Is that so? Um, How is he, then?”

“He’s been doing better recently. I’m very happy for him.”

“Ah, I see.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did the two of you meet?”

Sethos hesitates, not knowing exactly when they first met at all. Sure, he took interest after seeing him around the city, but he started chasing after the elusive man as an attempt to distract himself from everything. Even after they had their first conversation, it felt like they already knew each other, and still after it, it felt like they hadn’t even interacted.

Before he even says anything, Nahida nods as if she understands, putting a thoughtful finger to her chin. “You two must have very naturally bonded, no? Like a smooth gradient from black to white, it’s hard to see where one color ends and the other begins.”

Sethos blinks, the analogy taking him by surprise but kinda still making sense. He nods, tilting his head as he thinks to himself as well. “Mm, somewhat. There were lots of overlapping factors that may have shifted the values of the colors, too. So it’s hard to tell.”

“I see. Thank you, Sethos, for helping me understand. You are fun to talk with. Don’t be afraid to say hi if you see me in the city like this again.” She grins, and Sethos almost gawks at the compliment from someone like her. “Until then, I must be off. Thank you again!”

He waves as the young girl pads off, disappearing somewhere further down the road. The person in the stall next to him was gaping at the entire interaction, and he glances at her before hazily turning back to the direction he was headed earlier.

In a daze for his whole journey, it’s surprising to him that he gets to Gandharva Ville with no trouble. He arrives at Tighnari’s door after a while and just stands there, almost forgetting what he was doing. He shakes the fatigue off, a little frustrated that he’s so out of it for what seems like no reason.

Before he can knock, Tighnari pushes the leafy door open to meet Sethos, looking curiously at him, one ear of his twitches. “Sethos? I didn’t expect to see you here. Did something happen?”

“Oh,” Sethos starts, blinking as he remembers what he has to talk about if he wants to get this over with. “Uh, yeah- Well, no. I just wanted… you to look at my… uh… injuries.”

Tighnari’s ears flatten backwards, his eyebrows furrowing as he seems to think over something. Still, he just steps back inside, holding the canopy open. “Of course I can, come inside.”

Sethos steps inside hesitantly, making his way to the patient bed in the immediate room, but Tighnari stops him, pointing a thumb at a green-haired girl sitting at a desk. It’s the bubbly one he saw last time he was here, a week ago. “Ah, Collei is studying in here. Let’s go to the other room.” Tighnari mentions, and Sethos nods, following him.

In the far room, Sethos sits down again, carefully removing his sleeves and bandages as well, wincing. It hurts, not just to see, but physically aches a lot. He hears a long sigh from the other man.

“There are significantly more than last time. Do you mean to tell me you haven’t even visited a doctor since then?” He mentions pulling on some medical gloves before taking his right arm and looking it over.

Sethos grits his teeth at the touch, shaking his head.

“Ugh, Sethos!” Tighnari frowns, touching the freshest scars gently. “Tell me if this hurts.”

“It does.”

“Any aching when you aren’t touching it?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you have any fever?”

“I think so.”

“Nausea?”

“A little.”

Tighnari groans, getting a thermometer and checking Sethos’ temperature. He mumbles to himself, quiet enough so only he can hear, performing a few other checks. When he’s all done, he searches through medicine cabinets for something. Probably medicine.

Finally sitting down across from him, Tighnari watches him with a mildly frustrated expression as he begins to present his findings.

“Ahem. Not only do you have a pretty bad infection, since it’s gone untreated for who-knows-how-long, you also have contracted an underlying disease called cellulitis as well.” He looks more generally annoyed at this than particularly concerned, but it’s still there.

“Is that… uh… fatal?” Sethos asks, his voice trembling with a hint of nervousness.

The man’s tail lashes. “No. You’re lucky, it can be treated with antibiotics and by taking proper care of the wound. So! Here’s what I’m gonna need you to do.”

Tighnari begins walking him through his new nightly routine of cleansing and dressing his scars, as well as the antibiotics he will need to take for the next two weeks. He demonstrates how to do it and goes through it all with him, mentioning he might feel worse for one or two days before it starts to feel better. Tighnari also makes sure he knows basic first aid in case it happens again so that he can prevent infection before it sets in.

But the tall-eared man makes sure to state that it must not happen again. His voice is firm as he says this, but softens along with his expression soon after.

“I don’t encourage it, obviously. If you need any resources, anyone to talk to, please reach out to me and I can put you in contact with somebody.” He pauses, glancing to the closed door leading into the other room. His voice becomes quieter, “Collei… went through the same thing for some time. It was difficult, but we got through it. So I believe you can too.”

Sethos feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he wipes them with fingers connected to freshly bandaged arms, feeling clean and a little better. He doesn’t quite regret this as much as he expected he would.

He nods, offering a smile. “Thank you, Tighnari.”

That night, he falls asleep before he can even do anything.

So there are no less scars, but he guesses no more either.

…

A few days later, he’s out and about again, looking for his friend.

It's suddenly become increasingly difficult to track down Hat Guy, almost as if he's avoiding him again. But he just can't figure out what he did wrong. It takes him even another few days until he finally locates the man. Finding him walking through the city, Sethos walks alongside him, matching his pace as he starts conversation.

“Hi, Hat Guy! Haven't seen you in a bit, how's it going?” He asks, forcing his usual cheerful demeanor though his tone shifts as he mentions how long it’s been.

Hat Guy rolls his eyes, “Worse now that you're here.”

“Aww, don't be like that~!” He whines, still with a smile, but the words don't sting any less. “What did I do wrong?”

“Follow me around in the first place.”

“I thought you were alright with my company!” He tries.

A shift in the air. “I never agreed to anything, did I? And you were the one using me for your own benefit.” Hat Guy snaps, stopping and turning to face him.

In the middle of the street, Sethos stumbles at the words, baffled as he meets the other's gaze. He searches between his eyes, searching for meaning or basis behind the accusation. His voice has dropped slightly, losing the joviality he inserted into it. “...What?”

“You're using me - to distract from your own problems. I was foolish to think you actually…” His voice trails off, leaving silence hanging in the air as tension builds between them. Two hearts pound hard in their chests.

Sethos tries to wrap his head around all of this. “...What? What, no, that's not- That's not it at all. Where did you get that from? I promise you that's not…” Sethos’ own voice falters, because really, he doesn't trust himself at this point. Maybe he's right. Was I just using him as a distraction? And only that?

Hat Guy sure seems to believe it. His voice is a bite, chewing up and spitting out the thoughts as if they don’t deserve grace. “You were. Don't lie to me. You… You fucking traitor.”

And with that, he starts off again, and Sethos can tell he’s about to disappear like he loves to do. He lunges forward, grabbing Hat Guy’s arm, before a whirl of energy and light flow around them, and Sethos feels his heart drop in adrenaline. His knees go weak and he falls down, his hands finding grass instead of the street they were on moments ago. It takes him a long second to recover, his head spinning and stomach sick.

“I'm…” Sethos chokes out, his tongue sticky in his mouth. Tears prick behind his eyes. He wants to just get out of here, to never have to deal with this again.

But no, actually. He doesn't run, because he reached out earlier, wanting for the other to not run away either. He doesn’t run, because really, he doesn’t want to. He looks up and meets Hat Guy’s gaze, determined to make this right. Because he doesn't not care for him, in the way that the other is so convinced of.

Sethos stands up, his voice is soft as he starts, holding Hat Guy’s eye contact. “You're right. I was only talking to so many people because I needed a distraction. But… I do really want to get closer to you. It's not just a distraction that I need. I… need some friends, too.”

Hat Guy has turned away, arms crossed in sort of a hug. “Why should I believe you, at this point?” He’s trembling.

And Sethos, suddenly, realizes something hugely important about the man in front of him. His breath, his words, both stop, and he stares as if seeing right through him for the first time. Right through him, like he’s made of the same material as…

…Oh.

His heart is like mine. 

Glass, maybe porcelain, broken into thirds. Each piece missing, and left an empty man. Except he is not empty, something sparkles in his eyes, and Sethos realizes like another gasp of air, that the sparkle is himself. Hat Guy has Sethos in his eyes, in his heart. He has this, his fourth shard, and he’s afraid that it’s dangling out of reach, ready to fall and break at any moment. Scared of loss, like Sethos is, even though they both know it’s the most natural part of life, the only guarantee of this world.

Sethos has this fourth piece, too. The sparkle in his eye, the bounce in his step, the sun flowing into the canyon, casting light on the air that once was dark. He has this fourth piece, even though hadn’t seen it before, but he has it. It contains room for all of his friends, and Hat Guy’s fingers hold the shard gently, smoothing out the edges.

Sethos steps forward, walking a semi-circle around the wanderer - who remained still, turned away and tense - to properly face him. “Why? Because… Well, I care about you. And I know you care about me, too.”

Hat Guy’s fingers clench on nothing as they drop to his sides, tightening on only themselves, fingernails digging into his palms. His voice, shaky, betrays his emotion. “You don’t. You don’t really care. I do- Actually, fuck you. Fuck you, because you’re right, okay? I do care, as much as it pains me to admit it! I care about you and you don’t even care about me!” The man’s voice has risen, cracking slightly. His face has contorted, his eyes have become watery, and Sethos’ heart aches, but does not break.

And Sethos steps forward, slowly, bringing his arms around Hat Guy and pressing him into a hug. It’s warm, cool, awkward, natural, everything. His words come out with a breath, “I do care. With everything inside of me.” His own voice remains soft, and though Hat Guy is completely stiff, Sethos does not pull away for the world.

There is silence for a while. Sethos can feel trembling in himself and in the man in his embrace. He hears sniffing, crying. And after this while, Sethos feels a hand on his back, the other one too, and Hat Guy rests his head against his shoulder, holding him with a sense that is asking for something so simple, but hesitant as if he should not be allowed to even fathom it. Asking for acceptance.

Sethos’ breath catches in his throat. He hasn’t been held like this ever, and the last affectionate touch he can remember was even years ago now. This feeling, he could get used to. This warmth, this coolness, this awkwardness and the natural way it comes. It feels more comfortable than anything ever, and he melts like something frozen within him has finally been let into the sun that seeped into the canyon. He knows he’s been asking for the same thing this whole time.

“...You are the worst.” Hat Guy finally croaks out, and Sethos chuckles as he slowly rubs the man’s back. It seems the other is just as unused to the touch as he stiffens, but still tightens his grip on the back of his shirt.

“‘M sorry, lotus.” Sethos murmurs, coherency lost as he lets himself give what they both want. Acceptance, love, care.

He feels really content, here with Hat Guy, standing and hugging like the two of them and their feelings, their glass hearts, are the only things in the world. He rocks slowly side to side, and the tension in Hat Guy slowly, faintly dissipates, leaving only a calm silence.

Of course, it doesn’t last forever, but it’s still okay when they finally pull away. Sethos smiles, unable to simply contain the joy swelling in his heart for the first time since that day, weeks ago. Hat Guy, though hesitant, returns the smile, his gaze finding his hands. He takes Sethos’ in his own, a thought crossing his mind.

“Have you been in any more battles recently?” He asks, his tone different but soft, in a way that makes Sethos’ chest tighten.

The smile lighting up Sethos’ face dulls, and his gaze follows down to their fingers intertwined. His answer is written on his face, shame curling in his eyebrows. His voice lowers when he speaks, dropping low. “Ah… Um… Kinda, yes.” 

Hat Guy frowns, looking hurt, but different, again. His grip tightens, his expression worried, though heavily masked by frustration. “That’s… You need to stop! I keep telling you to take better care of yourself, don’t I? We both know that- Ugh, I just wish…”

Guilt and discomfort coiling around his lungs and pounding in his ribcage, Sethos chokes on his own words. “I’m… sorry.”

“Don’t…” A sigh, and his demeanor shifts. Softer, “Don’t be. I just said I care about you, didn’t I? I just… want you to be safe.”

Those words are enough to get him to break. Not like his heart did, just a small crack allowing tears to flow, for once in front of another person. He closes his eyes and lowers his head as he cries without sobbing, tears loosening from his eyelashes and falling down his cheeks. A hand, ungloved, comes up to wipe his tears, and he can’t help but chuckle only from the touch.

“Since when did you get so affectionate? This is totally new.” He comments, returning his gaze to meet Hat Guy watching him with a completely different look than he’s ever seen. But it’s gone a moment later, replaced with some sort of frustrated pout as his hand drops to join the other - which is holding his glove - at his side.

“You’re unbearable. Am I not allowed to care about you, now? I thought you liked it, but I guess I won’t if it makes you cry.”

“No, please do. I said it was new, not that I didn’t like it.” He lets his eyes flit to the finally bare arm of Hat Guy, noticing a few faded scars identical to his - that causes him to just melt, comfortable, safe, seen.

Best of all, he feels trusted. It’s really nice. So he takes off his own sleeve, carefully unwrapping the wound dressing he applied that morning.

As if telepathically, both of them simultaneously hold out their wrists, side by side. They match. Sethos just chuckles to himself, something about this is not so bad when Hat Guy, his closest friend, is right next to him. It’s quiet for a long time, but not awkward, just cozy and simple.

He does remember something as Hat Guy’s hands take his own gently, thumbs rubbing over his skin. Sethos glances up, his voice softening, “What made you think I didn’t care about you?”

A sigh from the other. He mumbles a little. “I… It just made sense at the time. If you were only using me as a distraction, then you must not have valued anything that… that we had.”

“Of course I valued it! You’re probably the one I’m closest to at this point.” Sethos hums to himself, thinking this over. “I mean, there’s Cyno - who I’m related to, and my Grandfather - who was my guardian. But I feel like me and Cyno still don’t understand each other, and my… My Grandfather… Isn’t around anymore.”

Hat Guy pauses, tilting his head and regarding him curiously. “I get that. I think I only have the Traveler and Nahida, but the Traveler and I are only close because they know too much about me and I need to keep an eye on them. As for Nahida, she’s… kind to me. I owe her a lot. You, though… I care about you differently.”

Sethos chuckles. “Really? No, I actually… you know. I get that too. I… me too.” He squeezes Hat Guy’s hands before asking one last thing, “How did you figure out that a distraction was what I was looking for?”

“Well, Nahida told me how we met from your perspective. After that, everything sort of fell into place like a puzzle… I guess I was making the wrong picture.”

“Lesser Lord Kusanali must be rubbing off on you, look at you with all these analogies~!” Sethos teases, grinning at the other man briefly. “How did she know, though? I didn’t even say that.”

“She… has a remarkable intuition. Bordering on clairvoyance.” Hat Guy says simply, and Sethos releases a bout of laughter.

“I would believe it if she did!”

And a chuckle is pulled from Hat Guy’s lips as well, his expression softening into a smile. Seeing him like this, unrestrained, content, just creates a softness around them that tenderizes the moment. Sethos smiles again at him, the two of them just quiet and together and simply that and nothing else.

The two of them lock eyes warmly, then both laugh again for no reason, holding each other by the hands. And feeling full. A piece of Sethos’ heart once thought missing has rebuilt itself as the base to hold up the fourth he recently discovered.

He has the third that is himself once more, in the soft fingers of Hat Guy, a delicate glass heart intricately joined in the cracks by a gold lacquer. Now only one piece is missing, one he can recognize as his past, something he will never get back, but is content with leaving behind.

And because of that, the edges are not so sharp anymore. He breathes a sigh, searching the eyes of the man in front of him and finding a similar acceptance, a similar satiated feeling, something that is just the exact same as him.

A sort of lazy contentment draws between them, just silence, unnecessary to fill. He leans forward, his head resting against Hat Guy’s shoulder and the latter’s hands letting go to wrap around him in a leisurely embrace.

“Thank you, Hat Guy.” Sethos murmurs, this oh-so-comfortable touch just meaning more than the world; he would not trade it for the missing slots in his heart.

“You’re still calling me that?” Hat Guy huffs a bit, but each and every hint of annoyance has seeped out of him completely. “You’re ridiculous.”

“What else am I supposed to call you? I don’t know your real name.”

“Make one up. Or call me Wanderer. That nickname is just annoying.”

“Well sorry, and thank you, Wanderer.”

Wanderer is silent for a moment, remaining still. “For what?”

Sethos smiles against the wanderer’s shoulder, “I just feel a lot better. I feel comfortable. So for talking to me, thank you.”

Hands slowly rub his back, and he feels like dissolving against the touch, pressing further against Wanderer, who speaks quietly. “I… do just want you to be okay.”

That night is much nicer than every other for the past month, the warmth and the memory lingering in his fingers and throughout his body. Sethos smiles to himself.

There are no more scars that night, and he sleeps soundly.

…

“Right. Then, if you’ve already been doing everything you need, I see nothing else we need to do.”

Sethos shifts in his seat, pulling his sleeves back on and staring down at his fingers. “Mm.”

“I’ll have to monitor you for some time, of course. If they get worse, talk to me.”

“‘Kay.”

“Sethos.”

He looks up when his name is called, head tilted slightly away though his eyes meet the gaze of the Temple’s doctor. It’s quiet, the only sounds being from outside - kids running down the hall, elders yelling at them, chatter and everything usual - until Sethos finally replies, “What?”

The doctor places his hand on his shoulder. “We’re here to support you. You know that, right?” Sethos nods. “Your friends, too. Everyone wants you to feel okay. And I’m very proud of you for talking to that Avidya doctor and me.”

Swallowing the lump growing in his throat, Sethos nods again, not quite sure why he still feels so emotional. Maybe it’s just the relief, the weight lifted off of his shoulders that had been dragging him down so heavily as of late.

He wears a smile around the Temple of Silence, waving to each person who greets him and stopping to say hi to the littler kids as well. Watching the community move around, he feels warm and safe, like his home is one large bonfire everyone’s sitting around. His smile is more than genuine.

Still, he keeps walking until he reaches the entrance, stepping outside to greet the blazing sun, shielding his eyes from the glare.

“I don’t know what’s brighter, the sun or your dumb smile.”

The voice emerges from in front of him some distance, and as Sethos’ eyes adjust, he sees a figure with an incredibly recognizable silhouette that makes him beam even brighter. “Hat Guy! You got my letter!”

Wanderer rolls his eyes just to do it, before he steps forward to meet Sethos. “Yeah. I thought I’d… visit. For study, of course.”

“And to see me, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

They continue chatting, Wanderer not entirely devoid of conversation as Sethos leads him through the temple, occasionally stopping to introduce him to a curious child or an observing elder. Wanderer is surprisingly more polite with them than Sethos expected, and he can’t help but grin widely the whole time.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Wanderer asks when they reach the records room, which visitors are rarely permitted to enter. Sethos plays with the keys in his hand, remembering how different keys to a hotel room in Sumeru City are from the ones they’ve always used here.

“Nothing~!” He hums, smiling again as he unlocks the door and brings them inside. “I can just tell you’re excited to be here, is all!”

Wanderer laughs with his fingers pressed against his face, and the sound of it takes Sethos aback, and he watches intently for the glimmer still remaining in the other man’s expression. It almost seems as if he’s going to outright deny it, just like always, but he hesitates, his hand sliding down his face. “Mm, I guess you wouldn’t be wrong.”

Between his fingers, Sethos can grasp the strings of a real, genuine smile remaining on Wanderer’s lips before he turns away, deciding to go forward and look for whatever records he needs. Sethos remains still for a moment, slightly baffled by how carefree Wanderer seemed to be acting, a complete contrast to his usual demeanor.

Ah, well, we’re all changing. His shoulders relax, and he smiles again before bounding after the other.

Sethos sits against the wall as Wanderer goes back and forth from shelf to shelf, looking through text after text. He indulges Sethos’ chatter, even about the things he would usually point out as trivial and unimportant. And Sethos, he is just comfortable yet again, warm and safe, like that bonfire that makes up his community. Even as the hours tick by, and it gets darker, he just stays, enjoying the moment enough as long as he’s with the other man, needing absolutely nothing else in the world than the one who holds the sparkle in his eyes between his fingers.

Sethos decides that he feels alright now. He lost something recently, and he'll never get it back, but that's okay. He's okay with knowing that his grandfather will watch over him from somewhere better, and okay with the friends he's made and the heart he has grown. Wanderer, Tighnari, Cyno, all have become the special people of his life. He has forgiven the world.

Eventually, he and Wanderer stay just talking. There is no more work being done, just the two of them in the dying light, talking about those trivial things. Even the glow is orange like this bonfire now, sunset casting shadow over them so they rely slightly on a single candle.

Wanderer pauses at the wrap of a conversation, his eyes drifting elsewhere. “...Sethos?”

And already, Sethos knows what he’s about to ask. Nothing hints at it, he just has a premonition that he almost brushes off because there’s nothing to back it up until he’s proved right at Wanderer’s next words.

“Have you been in any more battles lately?”

Sethos shifts, something proud blooming in his heart and his grin reaching all the way up to his ears. After all, his answer is different this time, different from all the times before. And his heart is no longer empty, that fourth piece has grown fuller, healing from being shredded by self-inflicted scars. Like the sparkle in his eye, held in the fingers of the man with the soft voice next to him, talking about trivial and non-trivial things, his heart is whole and happy.

He knows he’ll never again have what he has lost. But this new addition is something he thinks he can grow to love, as he’s already been doing. Already growing, and loving.

“No. No battles.”

END