Hello. I wanted to write something for Kazuha's birthday.
It's already the case in Japan at this hour, but not yet here in Europe.
It's a very short drabble, but hey, I'm writing my other fiction at the moment. It's the one about Itto & Sara (+ others), you can check it out if you want.
I'd appreciate it.
Enjoy, and happy birthday in advance, my beautiful boy.
"The maple leaf before the eyes.
The swallow intercedes.
A flight and naked trees."
The words of a haiku, whispered by a young, platinum haired man. Without a doubt, a samurai based on his appearance: he is wearing a short sleeved kimono of gray nuances, an obsidian coat one would know as the very region's haori, and a shoulder plate.
On a cliff giving a magnificent view of the sunset and Liyue Harbor beneath him, the wanderer from Inazuma is taking in the scenery. It's been a little while since he's last been in Liyue. On this relaxing interlude, he's reminded that today is his birthday.
"I wonder what you would say, were you to be here. I feel like a burden has been lifted from my shoulders that fateful day... the day the Traveler confronted the Almighty Shogun. The day, I, Kaedehara Kazuha, dared to face the thunderous glow of the Musou no Hitotachi, as you once wanted to."
Breathing deeply, Kazuha sits down on the waving grass. Graced by the autumnal breeze currently sweeping over the heights of the rocky cliff, his choppy hair dances briefly, as he resumes his verbose monologue; his words carried away by the wind all the same.
"I withstood it, with your help, I am sure. I feel pride not in myself, but in the bond we share, even to this day... your presence is what keeps my wits about me. You know me, friend... if it was only up to me, I would probably let my mind drift away in daydreaming, an occurrence I seem to often fall prey to. That may have made us reunite sooner, but not on a joyful occasion. You'd berate me for that."
Kazuha misses his friend but never voices it. He knows it wouldn't be matter-of-factly, were he to say that; his subdued, mastered and rather stoic personality would be at odds with the concept of showing too much emotion. His training as a samurai taught him that his mind must stay as cold as the steel he manipulates, even if his heart is ablaze... or weeping. So his verbal detours is what he settled for.
"I found new friends in the Resistance... and in Traveler and Paimon. Don't worry about me okay...? Speaking of these two, I'm planning to send them a letter today. Not to specifically tell them about this day being the one I'm born on, but to thank them for everything. Properly. And, if the whimsical thing we know as fate allows it... that our paths cross again as soon as possible."
His face's fair features arbor a smile, as Kazuha's eyes are cast heavenward. A watery pearl makes its way onto the unseen winds, stolen away from the corner of his eyes. No one could witness this peculiar thing happening... besides, mayhap, a swallow riding on the appropriately compassionate yet invisible currents.