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Kazuha let out a small gasp at the sight of the Wanderer who was sitting on a rock nearby.
He had smelled him on the wind, following the scent, but he hadn’t expected to see a man with purple hair and a big hat of all things.
He’d seen the man before— prior to his gaining an Anemo vision, prior to his Wanderer status.
When he was still a Fatui Harbinger.
He knew the man as nothing but the Balladeer back then, in passing conversation about Watatsumi’s delusion issue. He’d seen him only in glances as the Harbinger had snuck around Inazuma; the blue and white color scheme of his new outfit was a drastic change to the purple and reds of the old. The black stayed consistent, as if to say there was still darkness amidst the change.
Although, no one else seemed to remember this Wanderer’s prior status. (Maybe they just didn’t care?)
It was unnerving. Sometimes Kazuha would think about the Balladeer, wonder about how one could change so much in so little time, and he would get migraines. Kazuha didn’t really get those, it was weird.
As he watched the other man sit calmly on the rock, he wondered if the Wanderer knew who he was. Surely— surely the Traveler (who was well acquainted with this Wanderer) had mentioned him, mentioned him taking on the Raiden Shogun’s Musou No Hitotachi, at least his family name, how he’d helped them enter Inazuma, something to make the purple-haired man aware of him.
They’d never spoken. Of course not. The Wanderer was a Harbinger and then— well, a wanderer. So was Kazuha. It was by chance that their paths crossed at a peaceful waterfall in Sumeru. Kazuha wasn’t sure if he’d know what to say if he approached the other, but the Wanderer was much too intriguing for Kazuha to not want to approach him.
Slowly— cautiously even, Kazuha walked nearer to the Wanderer, forgetting everything he thought he knew about the other, delicately sitting down on the rock above the Wanderer. He didn’t flinch, unsurprisingly. Instead, the Wanderer looked up at him, squinting suspiciously, which turned into a brief look of wide-eyed recognition, before his face settled on a careful, disinterested glare.
“What do you want.” It was more of a statement than a question, annoyance clear in his smooth voice. Kazuha’s breath caught, and he amusedly watched the man’s mouth move, studying his face for a minute before he responded.
“Kaedehara Kazuha. Pleasure.” The Wanderer seemed surprised by his introduction. Kazuha’s face twitched into a small smile as he held out his bandaged hand for the man to shake. Once again, the Wanderer eyed him suspiciously, but his face twisted into a smirk as he grabbed the offered hand and gripped it tightly, giving it two firm shakes.
“Call me whatever you’d like. I’ve gone by many names, but none have stuck.” The Wanderer raised an eyebrow, as if he’d just made a joke, and Kazuha smiled back down at him. He watched the Wanderer’s ears turn pink and felt warm inside.
This man was nothing like the way he had been previously described. Kazuha was thankful. The old Wanderer wouldn’t have scared him off, not in the slightest, but as he sat peacefully exchanging pleasantries with the Wanderer, Kazuha thought he would have much preferred the new one anyhow.
His face was much younger-looking than Kazuha had expected. His eyes were tired and his eyebrows had formed faint wrinkles on his forehead, yet… the rest of his face was smooth, jawline soft and cheeks squishy. He had definitely lived as a Fatui Harbinger, but it seemed like leaving that behind was benefiting him for the better. Kazuha wanted to make him tea and fish.
So he offered to make tea and fish, which was graciously accepted. He didn’t expect the Wanderer to be so friendly, though maybe… maybe he was lonely.
“Tell me about yourself,” Kazuha mumbled absentmindedly as he made a fire and put a kettle over it. The Wanderer scoffed.
“There’s nothing to tell. Trust me. Though I have to say, I am fascinated by you. A descendant of the Kaedehara clan? That must be interesting.” Kazuha felt the Wanderer’s indigo eyes on the side of his face, observing his expression and possibly the red streak in his hair. He turned to meet the others eyes so he could answer, but his breath was stolen from him when the Wanderer leaned in slightly. The man’s eyes took in every detail they could, and Kazuha felt uncharacteristically shy. Swallowing thickly, he resisted the urge to brush the Wanderer’s bangs out of his face, and focused again on the tea and fish he was making. He ignored the other’s huff when he turned to the kettle, waving him off, not particularly wanting to talk about his family.
“‘ts not all that interesting. These days I’m just a wandering samurai.” The conversation ended there, as the Wanderer went quiet, choosing to stare at Kazuha some more.
Kazuha let him. He smiled down at the kettle as it finished boiling, pouring the water into the cups he’d gotten out, stirring them until the liquid was a dark brown. The fish was almost done grilling as well. Kazuha offered one of the cups to the Wanderer, who was still observing him quietly. He nodded a thanks at the cup of tea, idly sipping on it while Kazuha took the fish off the fire, seasoning it easily, handing a plate to the other man.
“The— the Traveler mentioned you.” It was only after they had both finished eating that the Wanderer spoke up again. He scowled at himself for stumbling over his words, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “They said you opposed the Shogun’s Musou no Hitotachi.” Kazuha nodded slowly, wondering where the conversation could possibly be going, feeling warm at the prospect of the Traveler talking about him.
“Yes, that did happen. What about it?” As Kazuha spoke, he noted how the Wanderer turned away from him, tilting his hat down to hide his face. He couldn’t hide his wide grin, though.
“I’m impressed. You seem to be a very powerful man.” It sounded as though it physically pained the man to compliment him, and yet.
And yet the Wanderer’s ears were red, and Kazuha could practically smell the way his heart was beating, could smell the hint of desire.
It filled his stomach with something, flowing like the wind, fluttering like autumn leaves, and he was rendered speechless.
The man in front of him was inhuman. That had been made clear when Kazuha had first smelled him in the wind, but it hadn’t mattered until Kazuha realized he was experiencing a human emotion such as desire over— over Kazuha. It was kind of sweet.
“Thank you. It took a lot of courage, but I trusted the wind to guide me.” The Wanderer seemed to chance a look back up at him, eyes scanning Kazuha’s entire face, before indigo eyes met red ones. A more shy smile made its way onto the Wanderer’s face, and Kazuha matched the expression.
He thinks he could get used to this.