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proxycrit · 3 months

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Part 1 / Part 2

Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.

“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”

“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.

Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.

Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.

“Elesa? What do you think?”

Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”

Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.

Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.

Like right now.

The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.

“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”

“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.

“Elesa, help!”

Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.

“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.

Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.

The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.

“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“

“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.

“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”

Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)

“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.

“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”

And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.

And here’s the thing—

— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.

The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.

He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.

But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.

—-

So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-

-the sound of laughter-

-EMMET! Elesa cried-

-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.

(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)

—

Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.

Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)

Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:

“Are you real?”

Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.

“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-

“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“

Elesa reaches. Hesitates.

Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.

She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming

You came back

You’re here

I’m not alone anymore.

Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.

The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.

You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.

“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.

AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.

YOU LEFT!

Emmet winces.

You- You left us, you left me-

Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.

Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.

You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.

“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”

Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.

And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.

(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)

“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.

Hope, he thinks. So he says this:

“I know how to get Ingo home.”

NOTES:

AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)

Thanks for reading this monster of a post!

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m1d-45 · 1 year

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remorse

-> warnings: spoilers for kazuha story quest as well as general kazuha lore, kazuha’s friend is named tomo for convenience, mention of blood near the end, kazuha attacks you but it’s a brief memory, standard issue imposter sagau things

-> lowercase intended!

tomo was an avid believer in the creator.

most people are to an extent, kazuha included, but it’s more of a soft reverence for him rather than the burning devotion for tomo, whose belief is that the creator didn’t make inazuma for it to be hidden! they didn’t make the shogun for her to do this to her nation!

that combined with his other beliefs sent him to face her. ever a man of faith, he held firm that he was doing the right thing. even as his body fell to the floor and his vision flew into the awaiting grasp of his friend, his heart stood strong.

kazuha carries that faith with his memory, and does his best to honor it just as well. if he finds a pretty flower he’ll drop it at a shrine, always murmuring his friend’s name as he does so. he doesn’t hold you to as high a bar as other do, as high as tomo did, but it’s hard not to be religious in teyvat, where the gods literally walk the earth. he settles for a quiet reverence, and perhaps a prayer that his friend may find peace at your side when the storm winds howl and lightning strikes close.

and then beidou.

who thanks you daily for calm seas, for large hauls, thanks for the life created for her anew.

and he thinks. and thinks a bit more, and decides that well, his life has been remade too, hasn’t it? and like beidou says, he’s a poet, he’s been gifted with a form of creation, hasn’t he? so he starts leaving more than a few folded poems at the on-ship shrine—it’s kept in the back, a little tucked away both for safety and in case the crew has problems with religion or just doesn’t follow, but that just makes it all the easier to slip things onto it.

and he thinks that maybe tomo had the right idea.

so when he hears of an impersonator, somebody who utilizes both magic and their mind to take the place of the highest of gods…. he’s more than upset.

how dare you? how dare you try to take the place of his god- if the entire of teyvat’s god? how dare you try and swindle your way to the top, try to trick and scheme and deceive the innocent beleivers into serving you instead of the creator you fail to even imitate? he hasn’t even met you and he knows that you’re a stale copy, a fragile semblance even with your spells and alchemy, a careful house of cards that he longs to topple.

the alcor is docked in liyue, waiting for a shipment. he’s sitting on an empty crate while beidou leans on it, groaning about the merchant.

”come on! we’re gonna be late, and he had a week to prepare! who is this guy, even, thinking he can do shit like that?”

he’s about to speak—likely to admonish her for swearing when there’s children playing along the docks—when he spots you approaching. you have messy, shaggy hair and a face covered by a blue mask, dressed oddly for somebody in liyue. he doesn’t spot either vision nor weapon on you, but it’s hard to tell. at the very least, you don’t look hostile.

he decides not to get beidous attention, letting you do so as you walk up to her.

“pardon me?”

your voice is rough and coarse, like ore dragged into the light of the sun after growing underground for millennia.

she looks you up and down, deciding that you aren’t the merchant she needs. “what can i do for ya?”

“i w-as told you could provide passage to inazuma?”

she tilts her head. “huh? but the saokoku decree was lifted recently, there should be proper passenger boats leaving every hour.”

you swallow, and kazuha listens to the wind around you.

it’s afraid. apprehensive. tense, like you expect them to turn you down.

which he’s pretty sure beidou’s about to if you can’t save this.

“theyre full, and i heard you were leaving immediately. and besides, everybody knows the alcor’s one of the fastest boats on the waves.”

ah. you’re smart.

beidou laughs. “you’re right about that, kid, we certainly can get you there the fastest! but it ain’t gonna be cheap…”

you brightened, standing a little straighter. the wind lifted into a gentle breeze. “i have mora! na-ame your price.”

while they sorted that out, kazuha inspected your odd character. your voice was rough, strained over certain syllables, and occasionally you’d scratch at the side of your neck. he’d initially assumed that the mask was for anonymity, like shinobu from the arataki clan, but now he thinks it’s more for an illness.

one that could spread throughout the crew.

“well, you’ve got yourself a deal! any problems?” she turned back to kazuha for his verdict, and he checked over you once more.

dirt on your boots, but hands in the pockets of your jacket. you were more relaxed now, the air speaking of possibility.

“you sound sick,” he says simply, and your eyes widen.

“a-ah, i- it’s just disuse. i d-ont really talk often.” the mask lifted in a weak smile, your hand coming up again. the skin there was quickly turning red.

“then if there’s nothing else, welcome aboard, uh- whats your name, again?”

you give a name and dip your head in thanks. “thank you for your k-indness.”

kazuha took up the task of showing you around the boat, for no reason he could explain. you were nice to talk to, funny, and your voice was smooth after youd taken some of the medicine you carried.

you were easy to be around. it was like reuniting with a friend he hadn’t seen in years, an indescribable sense of comfort filling him at your side. you felt like home, like campfire chats around crackling wood, or the soft sound of waves on a shore. a clear sky, a cool breeze over a sun-warmed rock.

he was almost- no, he was sad to see you off, waving goodbye as you rushed onto the docks of ritou.

you would go far. whatever you wanted to do, kazuha was sure you would succeed, and extended you his blessings in your endeavors.

now imagine his reaction when, after settling the deal, beidou brings him a flyer. her jaw is set and her shoulders are tight, and he’s quick to see what irritated her.

it’s you.

the flyer has your posture more intimidating, a long staff in hand, eyes cold and calculated instead of the warm glow he remembered.

but it’s you. undoubtedly. even your picture tries to pull a smile from him- and then he sees the charges below.

and he wants to shiver despite the comfortable air.

how?

how can this be?

how can such a kind soul be so deceptive?

but isn’t that the thing? it says you utilize spellwork- that has to be it, right?

(but how can the wind lie?)

he leaps from the side of the alcor, barely able to tell beidou not to wait for him before he’s gone.

he’s in a confused daze for the next few weeks, constantly on your trail- but the wind guides him in loops.

you’re everywhere.

your aura is permanently in the air, giving him a shot of nothing short of pure bliss before he gets his wits about him.

he’s almost afraid, because the wind doesn’t lie- but it has to be, because you can’t enchant the air- but that’s the only way-

his mind is confused, constantly in a state of conflict, his instincts saying you’re a friend while rational thinking says youre foe. his heart calls for your safety whilst the careful shell around it reminds him of your crimes. of the way you’ve tarnished his god’s name, of the way you’ve disrespected captain beidou and her crew, of the way you took advantage of kindness to serve yourself.

of the way you took advantage of people like tomo.

he’s on a beach, preparing up some fish for dinner in a cave, when the wind suddenly smells sweeter.

it’s the scent he’s been following.

he stands and rushes onto the shore, unsure why he’s not reaching for his blade but not thinking too much about it, looking around. sand slides beneath his feet as he races towards a familiar figure: you.

you—his mind supplies him with the name you gave, but is it even yours? or was it just another layer to the lie?—jump as he approaches, but quickly relax. you slip down the mask to sip at the medicine the same shade as the sky, smiling at him.

“kazuha.”

his skin prickles, suddenly feeling hot just at the way you say his name. it’s so kind, so loving, almost, and any response flies from his mind. it’s so hard to be mad when your voice sounds like silk and the light…

the sun shines on your skin, nearly glowing, outlining every curve and angle of you and with a gentle hand. if you catch the light just right he can catch lines of something yellowed across your skin. it’s odd, he didn’t remember that on the… boat…

the flyer.

right.

you were a criminal.

a criminal of the worst kind.

a fraud, somebody who tried to take advantage of the people, using spells to try and garner attention and wealth from people-

people like tomo.

he grit his teeth and ignored the stab of pain in his chest as he drew his sword.

instantly, every ounce of happiness drains from your figure, replaced by an ice-cold tension that makes him want to shiver despite the warm breeze. “ka..zu…?”

the nickname falling from your lips begs him to reconsider, to stop.

its his last chance to.

“how dare you disgrace the kaedehara name?”

your eyes turn glossy and you back away, shrinking in on yourself. a choked-off sound crosses the short distance between them, and kazuha forced himself to ignore it.

you are not an innocent. the beautiful sunlight across your skin did not mean that you yourself were as good as it, the lovely scenery around you no indication of whatever rot lied in your soul; something that had to be there, for you to try and imitate the creator.

and it was rot. you were rotten, bitter, deceitful, using the magic you’d have to have bought—for no being could grant somebody like you that power—to try and warp mildew into meadows. he had to remember that.

he was being charmed.

and then he’s in liyue.

he’s going to a meeting with ningguang with beidou, where the news is broken.

the normally ever-steady tianquan looks shaken up, asking beidou first for her promise to utilize her crew and connections to spread what she’s about to say as far across liyue as she can.

and then she says it.

and kazuha leaves.

he’s in the crows nest of the alcor—it hasn’t left the harbor in months due to the awful storms over teyvat and the cruel waves—and curled into a ball, hands tangled into his white hair, undoing his ponytail in the process.

he tried to kill you.

he’d had you pinned to the beach- you didn’t even fight back. you’d just laid there, tears beading in your eyes, just staring up at him even as his sword was resting in the hollow of your throat.

he’d-

he’d nearly drawn blood.

he’d almost killed the very god he worshipped.

the shining light in his best friend’s life, the new beginning he’d found alongside his new home with the crux, the-

the flush across his skin whenever you were close, that sense of calm and serenity- of course. it all made sense, now that he put aside his blade.

you were a god.

his god.

and he’d tried to kill you.

he tries to soothe himself—you’re okay, you didn’t hurt them too bad, did you? imagine how the killer feels—but it’s in vain. the very wind turns against him, biting and cold despite the warm sun, and he’s shivering.

shaking, about to cry, because you… you were only seeking a new opportunity. you wanted another chance. you just wanted to live- ningguang had said your memory was likely damaged if even there at all, you didn’t even know you were a god at all. you didn’t even understand the nature of your sins, you didn’t understand the world you were in in any form, you didn’t understand why you were being chased, persecuted, hunted.

and kazuha, alongside the entire world, had decided that was a crime punishable by death.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #kaedehara kazuha #sagau kazuha #spoilers under the tags’ ‘see all’ button be warned #hi hello welcome to spoiler territory: did you know you can find tomo’s grave ingame #tp to the artifact domain by narukami shrine and head east to the little gorge #head south down the gorge #who cares if nobody reads these bc they’re my tags and i get to infodump all i wanna #within the archive #specifically the ‘living beings -> wildlife’#you can find cats. nearly all are named ‘[descriptor] cat’ with the exception of one: the pure white cat #the pure white cat entry in the archive is simple named ‘sapphire’.#= their cat is now named sapphire in my mind #i hope you have learned something today even if it’s just ‘midas collects and reads archive entries unironically’

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