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Perched high up the swaying branches of an Adhigama tree, Wanderer sat in solitude, gazing upon the lights of Sumeru City twinkling like stars along the edge of the forest, a stark contrast to the barren, empty road stretching out below.
A gentle breeze brushed against his skin, but instead of the expected tropical warmth, it carried an unnatural chill. He let out an involuntary shudder, the cold seeping through his clothes and settling deep in his bones. Quiet, tranquil nights like this always had a way of drawing the past up into the light.
Wanderer let out a soft, derisive scoff, the sound swallowed by the rustle of leaves. Even now, after everything he could not let go of the man who held his heart. He shook his head, his expression settling into a lingering melancholy. It was infuriating how the ginger man still occupied the quietest corners of his mind.
He looked back down at the desolate path, where no soul dared to wander at such a late hour. The silence was absolute, save for the rhythmic pulse of his own heart.
Wanderer began to wonder, when would he finally face the man again. Would he play the part of the indifferent traveler? Acting as though the thought of their reunion hadn't haunted his every waking moment or rather, every moment of his restless, artificial existence. Not that a puppet truly required sleep, yet he found himself caught in a state of perpetual, hollow stasis, his mind looping through a thousand impossible scenarios.
Would their meeting be a warm embrace of long awaited solace, or a collision of sorrow and unspoken regrets? He braced himself for the sting of Childe's laughter, wondering if it would be a welcoming melody or a sharp, mocking blade of hostility aimed at his very soul. The uncertainty gnawed at him leaving him in unease
How much has changed? he mused, his gaze drifting toward the horizon as if he could see the ginger haired warrior through the veil of distance. And more importantly, how much of 'me' is left for him to recognize?
He tightened his grip on his shirt, the fabric a grounding reality against the dizzying swirl of his own anxieties. He was a creature of storms and silence, while Childe was the sun and he couldn't decide if he wanted to bask in that light or be burned away by it entirely.
He caught flash of ginger from the corner of his eye, a sudden, blinding flare of color against the verdant landscape that made his heart leap painfully against his ribs. Wanderer froze for a heartbeat, certain that the sheer weight of his longing had finally fractured his mind, conjuring a ghost of the man he so desperately craved. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his palms against his temples to banish the hallucination, wondering how Childe was faring in the distance. Would he be laughing, or fighting, or simply existing in a world that Wanderer was not a part of.
High above the world, under the thick canopy and sheer altitude, he watched the figure approach the tree. No mortal man could have seen him this high and yet the silhouette moved with a familiar, rhythmic grace, coming closer and closer until the vision was almost within reach, but Wanderer remained a silent, invisible observer in the heavens.
"Isn't it a bit uncomfortable up there, comrade?"
The voice cut through his reverie, warm and teasing, and vibrated with a cadence that sent a bolt of electricity straight to his core. Wanderer's eyes flew open, his breath caught in his throat, as he looked down to see Childe walking towards the trunk, looking up with that infuriating, knowing smirk that implied he had known Wanderer was watching all along.
Wanderer’s entire body freezes. His breath hitches in his throat as if the very air of Sumeru had suddenly turned to stone. Is he hallucinating? seeing things from lack of sleep? The thought races through his mind, frantic and disbelieving. How could Childe be here, in the middle of the warmth of Sumeru, far from the frost of Snezhnaya? He stares down, paralyzed, only to find those ocean blue eyes staring back at him with familiar clarity.
"It's... rather comfortable," he croaks out, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. He had spent countless sleepless nights spiraling through a thousand different scenarios of their reunion, but none of them involved him perched precariously in a tree while Childe looked up at him like a lost traveler.
"Star gazing?" Childe asks, tilting his head with that infuriatingly easy grin.
"Not quite," Wanderer mutters, forcing his limbs to move as he leaps down from the branch. He lands with a soft thud, though his knees feel uncharacteristically weak.
"Whoa, careful there! That's quite the height" Childe teases, reaching out a hand as if to steady him.
Wanderer ignores the hand, instead choosing to simply stare. He drinks in the sight of him the unruly orange locks, the warmth radiating from his skin, and those eyes that felt capable of swallowing him whole. Childe really hadn't changed much, had he? He was still a force of nature, the chaotic sun Wanderer's world revolves around
"Have we met before?" Childe asks, a playful, curious glint dancing in his eyes. "You look incredibly familiar."
"I'm just a Wanderer. You must be confusing me with someone else. I simply have a... very familiar face," he muttered, ducking his head as he tried to retreat into the wide, protective shadow of his hat.
"I'm Childe," the man replied, his voice brimming with an easy, unbothered warmth.
"Childe," Wanderer repeated, the syllable feeling strange and heavy as it lingered on his tongue.
"Child, with an 'e'," he added with a light, melodic chuckle that seemed to vibrate in the air between them. "You can call me Ajax." He extended a hand, an invitation for connection that felt startlingly bold.
"Ajax..." Wanderer paused, his gaze snagging on the peculiar, unsettling intense depth of the man's eyes. The world seemed to narrow until there was nothing left but that intense stare. "I'm... Wanderer."
He caught himself, the name feeling too hollow, too transient for a moment this visceral. A sudden, uncharacteristic impulse seized him, a need to bridge the distance the stranger had offered.
"But you can call me Scara," he corrected, his voice gaining a sudden, sharp clarity. He reached out, his fingers curling around Ajax's hand and squeezing with a firmness that belied his small stature, as if trying to anchor himself to the reality of the man standing before him.
"Well then, Scara... it's getting quite late. What's keeping you awake?" Childe asks, his voice dropping into a warm, honeyed register that seems to vibrate in the quiet night air. He leans back slightly, a playful but curious glint dancing in his eyes as he studies the figure before him.
"I could ask you the same, couldn't I?" Wanderer retorts, though the sharp, biting edge of his usual sarcasm is conspicuously absent, replaced by a softness that betrays his composure. "Is it not far too late for a traveler to be wandering aimlessly through the dark?"
Childe lets out a low, melodic chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as if sheepishly admitting to his own disorientation. "I suppose I must have lost track of time. Sumeru is a vast place to get lost in, after all."
"It is indeed," Wanderer murmurs, his gaze lingering on Childe a moment too long before he regains his dignity. He offers a graceful, measured bow of his hat, the brim casting a fleeting shadow over his eyes. "Good night, then. I wish you the best of luck with your endeavors tomorrow."
"Good night, Scara." Childe pauses his eyes glancing over Wanderer "And thank you," he replies, his smile lingering even as the silence settles between them.
With a final, playful wave, Childe turned on his heel, his silhouette retreating toward the grand, glowing gates of Sumeru City. The night was peaceful, the air heavy with the scent of saffron, cinnamon and various spices. The world itself had fallen into a deep, unbothered slumber at this ungodly hour.
Wanderer feigned a casual departure, stepping into the deepening shadows of a nearby tree to hide his presence. He stood motionless, a silent sentinel in the dark, watching until Childe’s footsteps faded into nothingness. He watched and watched, his gaze anchored to the spot where the ginger haired man had last been visible, refusing to look away until Childe’s back finally vanished into the city's embrace.
He stepped out from his hiding place, the silence of the city felt heavier than before, leaving him with a restless ache that no amount of solitude could soothe. He found himself wondering did Childe sense him? Did he know that even when he turned away, he was never truly alone?
Some questions were destined to remain unanswered, yet for the first time in a while, Wanderer found himself not just enduring the passage of time, but actively anticipating the dawn.
He began to walk, his steps aimless as he navigated the winding streets, but his mind remained elsewhere. The warmth of Childe's touch still lingered on his hand, a phantom sensation that made the cool night air feel suddenly, jarringly lonely. He needed to find a place to rest, yet the idea of sleep felt like a waste of time when the memory of that smile was so vivid.