A quick breath of relief whooshed from my lips upon seeing who joined me on the branch.

"I apologize for startling you," Kazuha said. "The chances of you occupying the same perch as me are quite low, don't you think?"

No longer alarmed, I relaxed back into my little nook—only to realize that it wasn't Kazuha who interrupted my peace. I had interrupted his.

Patting the wood beneath me, I prepared to rise. "You have a good eye for trees. First come, first served. I can easily find another."

Kazuha lowered himself so that his legs dangled in the air. "No need. There is more than enough space for you, me, and the curious woodland creatures around us. If it is solitude you seek, I do not mind taking my leave."

Solitude was, in fact, what I sought at the moment. Oddly enough, I felt just as peaceful with Kazuha here as I had been when I thought it was just me and nature. Seeing him now, I remembered that this wasn't the first time I met Kazuha in a tree. It made more sense for him to be here than anyone else. Because it was Kazuha, the personification of peace, there was no problem with him staying.

As a matter of fact, in the times I spoke with Kazuha in the past, our conversations had always given me some form of clarity—the exact thing I hoped to achieve in this forest today.

"No, no, stay. You're right. This tree is big enough for the two of us."

He dipped his head in an accepting nod. "Well, then. I hope you do not mind if I take this opportunity to satisfy a recent curiosity of mine."

He wanted something from me, too? That worked out perfectly. We'd be even.

"By all means, ask away. As long as it's not about the complicated meaning of life, I think I can handle it," I said half-jokingly, but Kazuha really did seem like the type to strike up that kind of question.

"In regards to your brother…" Kazhua's words trailed off meaningfully, and I noted that he was watchful of my reaction.

"Right, him. You're not the only one curious about us being siblings," I sighed, not surprised that even Kazuha wasn't immune to the intrigue of rumors and gossip. "What do you want to know? I do have to warn you, it's been a while since I last saw him up until recently. If it's Champion-related stuff you're after…"

"The Grand Tournament has piqued my interest, but that is unrelated. I can't help but wonder if the two of you were intentionally given the names that you possess."

Our names? My eyebrows rose at the unexpected topic, and Kazuha nimbly transferred to a sturdier branch while I gave it some thought. The removal of his body weight caused my branch to ease up, and I bobbed along with the limb until it settled once more.

I hadn't given the meaning of Aether's name much thought before. It was more natural to attribute it to who he was—just Aether. It helped that I'd never met another Aether before, nor had I crossed paths with someone else named Lumine. If my name referred to light, what meaning did Aether's name hold?

"What do you mean by 'intentionally?'" I asked, realizing that Kazuha might know the answer.

"Brightness," he stated and tipped his chin upward, looking at the clouds above. "A bright, upper sky."

"Brightness and light. Aether and Lumine." I chuckled softly at the obvious connection. "Sounds pretty intentional to me."

Kazuha idly brushed his fingers through the pines hanging in his face. "There are some who believe that bestowing a name to a child will predetermine who they become in adulthood. The development of their personality, their achievements in life, what they are known by…the power of a name might influence it all."

I never made it a habit to think about our parents. The circumstances of our birth and how we ended up at the orphanage—that was something Aether and I had long forgotten. Instead of imagining a tragic backstory of abandonment or wishfully thinking that our parents would return one day, it had been enough to focus on the fact that we had each other.

Of course, when I first learned what parents were, I had bugged Katheryne about it constantly. Her response had always been the same—while some children had guardians connected to them by blood, others had guardians with a bond forged by love. I hadn't understood what she meant until I was well into Madame Ping's care. Though I couldn't deny that part of me was still curious about who my parents were, there was no sense in dwelling on it.

So, there was no way of knowing why we were given these names.

"Brightness and light," I murmured again. "I don't think a name can completely determine someone's life, especially if they don't know the meaning themselves. At the end of the day, the decisions I make aren't for some intentional personality trope. Any similarities between me and my name are coincidences, I guess."

"And for your brother?"

A brightness in the sky. Though only by a little, his name had a more specific meaning. The literal brightness in the sky was the sun, a shining star that people depended on for survival. Even at night, the sun is what illuminated the moon. Thinking about it, Aether was raised to be a shining star—though perhaps not his ideal version of one.

"Another coincidence?" Kazuha prompted.

"Two coincidences for a case of twins doesn't seem so coincidental after all."

"I would have to agree."

"Then, what does it mean?"

Kazuha smiled softly. "I thought you weren't keen on exploring the meaning of life. This topic is straying dangerously into that territory."

"Now that you mention it, my head is starting to hurt." I squinted my eyes and rubbed at my temple for show.

"We can leave it as something to think about."

"I'll add it to the list." And boy, was that list growing.

The conversation naturally ended there, and we both sat in comfortable silence. Though it was easy to relax in this space, the act of hanging in a tree kept me alert at all times. With my body aware of its physical balance, my mind returned to the reason why I had climbed up here. I was no closer to deducing a solution for Thoma, yet the anxiety within me had soothed.

As inconspicuously as possible, I cast a sidelong glance at Kazuha. His eyes had fallen shut, legs swinging in the air. It struck me that, for as deep as our conversations got, I didn't know much about him. Other than being a wanderer and possessing a fancy way with words, Kazuha was a mystery. His level of wisdom surely wasn't an inherent gift. Kazuha must have endured difficult situations of his own to reach this state today.

There would be plenty of time in the future for us to become closer friends, and I felt no need to press into his past. What I could do, though, is make use of that wisdom. Now that I'd indulged in his curiosity about names, he might be able to help me.

Breaking the peace, I vaguely asked, "How long would you endure a difficult path before giving in and taking an easier, though less rewarding, route?"

Kazuha didn't stir. If it weren't for his swinging legs, I would assume that he fell asleep. The question hung in the air, and it was only after a few birds gave their reply in short chirps that he spoke.

"It depends. Is this a journey taken on my own, or is it shared with others?"

"It could be both, but the journey's outcome ultimately depends on you."

"And what is at the end of the path?"

I paused, not sure how to phrase it without giving too much away. Though it might be useful to tell Kazuha the full details of Thoma's situation, that would only open the door for more questions to be asked. It wouldn't be wise to reveal the whole Enjou dilemma to anyone willing to lend an ear.

"Survival."

Kazuha didn't hesitate to reply, "Then, I would take the easy route."

That surprised me. I gripped my branch tensely. "Why?"

"When it comes to survival, having the option to choose my own path is a luxury. The real question arrives after the journey is complete. Is surviving enough on its own? Will those who have accompanied me still be there for future journeys to come? If I am content to survive, then I will only do what I must. If I seek to live…the easy route is reduced to a false shortcut."

"And if there are multiple setbacks?"

Kazuha hummed lightly. "It goes without saying that a combined effort will be more effective than facing the problems on my own."

"We've been trying, but there's always the same problem for different reasons."

"If that's the case, then perhaps what you struggle with is not multiple setbacks but one roadblock. Chipping away at the problem can be frustrating if, bit by bit, the mountain is wholly unaffected."

I nodded energetically. Frustrating was putting it lightly.

"Even the most formidable mountains can crumble," Kazuha added after a moment. "Whether it be the passage of time or great power, nothing is immune to the forces of nature. Am I right to assume time is not on your side?"

With less enthusiasm, I nodded again. We were past speaking in hypotheticals, and I was grateful to Kazuha for not inquiring about the specifics. He'd gone silent again, undoubtedly stuck in the same place I was. The stress that I'd become so familiar with began to creep back into my muscles, but then I heard a sharp snap.

Kazuha had broken a twig from his branch.

"A single twig is weak." He snapped it in two. "But a twig does not exist on its own. It's part of a larger limb, connected to an even larger branch, and held up by a grand tree that can withstand the hardiest of storms. What you need is a tree."

The analogy held its ground, but trees took too much time to grow.

As though he could read my thoughts, Kazuha said, "Even so, twigs will suffice."

"But you just said—"

"Together, they can be strong."

"You want me to…combine my twigs?"

"Does that sound possible?"

Our twigs—the holy water and the vitanova. Separately, they weren't effective enough to counter the corrosion. Barbara had said that the holy water served as merely a blanket of protection and the vitanova's targeted effect was too weak. Together, though, they might work. Professor Kreideprinz was already researching the holy water's properties, and Sucrose had a thorough understanding of her own experiment. With all the knowledge prepared, it was only a matter of determining if the two were compatible.

Our twigs could be synthesized into a tree.

"That's it," I breathed softly. "That…that could work."

My heart fluttered at the revelation, and I nearly fell out of the tree when I sprung upwards. Kazuha was fast, darting back to my creaking branch with an outstretched arm. I grasped his arm with one hand and the tree's trunk with my other.

"Kazuha, you're a genius."

He shrugged. "I was merely commenting on our surroundings. Such praise should fall on whatever deductions you have made on your own."

I refrained from insisting that he take the credit. More importantly, I needed to get out of this tree and relay the idea to Sucrose and Professor Kreideprinz.

Making haste, I let go of Kazuha and sat on the branch, prepared to climb back down. "You can have your tree back. I have to go."

I heard him sigh. "It does not belong to me."

"And—even if you won't accept it—thank you. You have no idea how helpful you've been."

"In that case, please update me once you cross that mountain."

Crossing the mountain? No, I was going to crush it.

"Lumine, you're a genius," Sucrose gasped once I explained the idea to her. "Infusing the holy water and vitanova together is brilliant and well within the capabilities of alchemy. Professor Kreideprinz's office is just down the hall. Please, come with me. We haven't a moment to waste!"

I was relieved to hear Sucrose so readily accept it. She had prepared a second batch of vitanova while I was out, and she snatched it up before we left her station. Upon reaching the closed door to Professor Kreideprinz's office, Sucrose hesitated. Her fist hovered above the wood.

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"No, it's not that. I just…Professor Kreideprinz is going to be upset when he learns that I've been overworking myself again."

"It's to save a life. I'm sure he'll understand."

Because she'd gotten nervous, I knocked instead. A moment later, the handle clicked, and Professor Kreideprinz swung the door open. Without even asking why we were there, he welcomed us into the office filled with alchemy activities. It looked the same as I remembered, though with slightly more books stacked all around. Still, the area was far neater than Sucrose's station.

"Sucrose, Lumine, judging by how the two of you have come to see me together, I imagine the matter regards a certain patient in the infirmary."

As always, he was astute in his observation. Professor Kreideprinz's sharp intellect didn't falter for a second when we dove into our explanation. First, Sucrose went into lengthy detail about the vitanova, and I followed up with the combination plan. He stood there with folded arms as we took turns speaking, and he spared Sucrose a pointed look when she tried to gloss over the time spent on the experiment.

"I have to commend you on your contribution efforts, Lumine. Even as a novice to alchemy, you've surpassed many of the basics. If you choose to take one of my courses in the future, I would be very keen on having you as a student. As for you, Sucrose…"

She blushed sheepishly, looking down to the floor. "I know. I shouldn't be—"

"Well done," he said. "Under any other circumstance, I would have preferred that you paced yourself in experimentation, but time is of the essence. Epsilon-series vitanova, variation sixty-three is no small feat, and I am eager to study your notes in preparation for a sample test."

"Really?" she stammered. "Then, does this mean the holy water is compatible?"

He nodded, and I shared an excited look with Sucrose.

"Yes. In many respects, holy water is comparable to typical water. Though it holds certain…eccentric qualities, the substance is naturally balanced and should have no issue with synthesis."

This wasn't the first time we'd reached a breakthrough, but the impact I felt was just as strong.

With Professor Kreideprinz now in charge of combining our resources, Sucrose and I were left to our own devices. For me, that meant showing up for dinner before my friends began to worry—again. For Sucrose, well, I dragged her along. No nutritious cube could beat the satisfaction of a hot meal.

Though I had intended to eat a proper dinner with Sucrose, she'd caught the attention of Timaeus and was all too interested in the tidbits of his budding experiment. We'd barely gotten our food before he stole her away from me, but I knew she'd be more comfortable discussing alchemy, anyway.

Around me, I had an audience of friends that demanded an update. Explaining what I'd been up to strangely hadn't gotten tiresome—probably because this time, I'd experienced enough trial-and-error to gain a realistic, positive expectation. Their eyes slightly glazed over at the talk of alchemy, yet they listened intently without touching their food.

"That's amazing!" Bennett cheered, nearly knocking over a glass of water while doing so.

"You should have let us join in," Amber tutted. "It's no wonder you've been all sulky-tired recently. You've basically picked up an extra class."

Xiangling waved her spoon at me. "Cooking is a lot like alchemy. I'm sure I could have helped in whipping something up or at least brought you real food to eat. Everyone works best on a full stomach, you know."

"All good points," Childe agreed. "Now, what punishment is fitting for Lumi neglecting her own well-being and leaving us out of the loop?"

"Excuse me?" I drew back from my plate and gawked at him.

Xiangling was the first to make a suggestion. "Hm, I think she should let us try those meal cubes. I've never heard of anything like it."

Amber chuckled mischievously. "I say we collect as many blankets as we can find and roll her up into an inescapable burrito. Then, she'll have no choice but to stay in her cozy cocoon—forever."

"Isn't it bad enough that she's worked so hard for Thoma's sake? Cut her some slack, guys. I went on an emotional rollercoaster just hearing about the holy water failing and then the vitanova failing." Bennett patted a hand over his heart in earnest.

"Thank you, Bennett." I gestured to him. "Everyone, be more like Bennett."

"Plus, you know what they say!" Bennett exclaimed and went back to eating his food.

We all waited for an elaboration that never came.

I prompted him. "What do they say?"

"Who are they?" Amber whispered.

"Oh, the third time's the charm. I mean, I don't know if the saying is exactly true since I've never experienced a good turnaround after only three tries for myself. You know me, though. I'm sure it'll be different for Thoma!"

I needed to hang around Bennett's positivity more often. Out of everyone here, he probably dealt with the most daily hardship, yet he's found a way to stay smiling no matter the unlucky situation he's landed in. I should follow my own advice and be more like him, too.

"Cheers to that." I lifted my cup with a smile. "Third time's the charm."

Our drinks met in the middle as we wished well, and the conversation broke up from there. Ironically, I had chosen a crab, ham & veggie bake for dinner—the exact meal Sucrose replicated with her invention. As far as taste went, it was impressively the same. I couldn't deny that the texture of chewing on real food was better than that chunky cube, though.

Childe drew my attention with a hand on my knee. "You're not off the hook quite yet, girlie."

"What do you mean?"

"I rather liked Amber's blanket idea. We can roll you right up so that you're never out of my sight again."

I snorted. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious." His fingers flexed. "You shut me out today."

It hadn't been long since I was at risk of drowning in my own worries, mind lost and heart too fragile to be prodded at. To protect myself, I thought I had to block everyone out—especially Childe. I shouldn't have. I knew that then, and I knew it now. It was impossible not to feel guilty—not with the hurt in his eyes or after hearing what my friends had said earlier.

Though they realistically couldn't help Thoma, they could have helped me. It was foolish to shoulder the emotional burden alone in an attempt to spare other people, but I truly thought I could handle it at the time. If it hadn't been for the mandatory break Diluc insisted on, I might have completely fallen apart by now.

"I'm sorry," I said and laid my hand on top of his. "It won't happen again."

"That's not enough. This requires a pinky promise."

Rolling my eyes at the childish—though not-so-childish by Snezhnayan standards—demand, we hooked pinkies and recited the haunting oath together. Childe's finger squeezed harder with each word. I squeezed back, determined to triumph in this twisted pinky-wrestling game.

"Now, seal it with a kiss."

Startled, my hand went lax. Right here and now?

Already knowing there were plenty of people around us, I still turned to glance at who might be watching. This would be our second kiss, and I blushed at the thought of so many eyes on us. Xiangling and Bennett were too distracted to notice anything, but Amber was suddenly very interested in the space directly between me and Childe.

"Really?" I asked quietly, hoping this was only a tease.

He leaned close, his breath tickling my nose. "Really, really. Unless…you're not actually sorry?"

I rolled my eyes again. He knew I was.

"Hey, looks like Aether is on his way here," Bennett interjected. "I was wondering when he was finally going to stop by. Your brother sure is popular, Lumine. He's like this for every meal—hanging around all the tables and making conversation with everyone under the sun."

My pulse quickened as Bennett spoke, though my eyes didn't leave Childe's challenging stare.

He inched closer. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"Don't you want to go somewhere more private?"

"I'll come up with other things for us to do when that time comes." Childe flashed a wicked grin. "Any day now, girlie."

That's it.

I shut my eyes and pretended it was just the two of us in the room. Mustering every ounce of courage within me, I reached my hands forward to grasp Childe's face gently, pulling him close until our lips met. His hand on my leg fell away, and I felt it return to cup the nape of my neck.

Our first kiss had been a sweet affair, but now I made sure to send a message to Childe. Molding my mouth to his, I deepened the kiss for an extra second to prove my point. I meant what I had said, and I wasn't too shy to show it. For good measure, as a way to share how his provoking had vexed me, I nipped at his bottom lip before ending the kiss.

He resisted when I pulled away, but not by much. When I dared to look, there was a satisfyingly dazed expression on his face. It cleared away far too soon, morphing into a triumphant smirk. His eyes flicked back down to my lips, and I had to resist the internal pull demanding more.

"I'm ready to go somewhere more private now," Childe said, his voice husky.

Childe's hand, still at my neck, had begun to swirl lazy circles on my skin. The intimacy of his touch warmed my ears, my cheeks, my—

The sound of a throat being cleared snapped me out of it, and I lifted my head to see Aether standing stock-still by our table. The intensity of his glare, blazing like the sun at high noon, seared straight at Childe.

"Tartaglia, I think it's time we finished our duel."

there's a week left in windblume, and i want to share a beatmap i made for the rhythm game! it's the raiden song :) the code is: 1104420077530 (america server)