TW: This chapter contains mentions of suicide and similar themes. If this discomforts you, please do not read for your safety.
Chongyun had continued his work back as an exorcist. Aloof, quiet and more of a ghost than the souls he had been exorcising, but alas he dragged his feet to the direction his clients sent him in. It wasn't easy, he lugged around his exhaustion with a heavy heart that seemed to spiral even the most disturbing of thoughts. The guilt and overbearing sadness he felt day to day was heavier than any claymore he could possibly wield, but hell, he was still moving. That was an achievement in itself. His pale, frostbitten eyes downcast at another half crunpled commission paper, likely tossed into his mailbox halfassed and uncared for. He knitted his eyebrows together with a hurt sigh. This wasn't exactly a proper commission, nor an exorcist referral sent from another "agency." He squeezed the delicate paper lightly in his palms and read with a passionless expression.
"Dear Chongyun,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. It was no doubt you were my sons closest friend, and I do not mean to bring you fresh misery, but I would like to talk to you personally. I feel you were the closest person in this universe to know his heart, soul and personality most. Speaking to you would clear up all questions I have.
On another note, you're welcome to our estate whenever you need. You've been close with the family for years I can't reject.
Sincerely,
Feiyun Xiuying."
He let out a low sigh, hands shaking. He had been close with their family, always finding himself shyly standing in the doorway while Xingqiu led him inside chatting comfortably with whatever family member was present. He'd self consciously check his posture, pick at his clothes, and god forbid hope he didn't smell like a barbarian. But, they had taken a strong liking to the timid exorcist despite their major class difference. It became a common occurrence, Chongyun shyly seated at the polished, very fancy, dinner table with delicately crafted silverware and silk napkins that were folded beautifully into fabric flowers. Chongyun always felt very awkward about unfolding his, it just felt wrong to disturb the carefully folded napkin.
They would always tell him he had the work ethic above people his age, and that maybe Xingqiu could learn from his endeavors. This spiraled the embarrassed reddening of both of their ears, stinging proof of their opposing thoughts. Xingqiu would always protest he's not disobedient or lazy, but rather he's just embracing his passions at a pace he's comfortable with.
Chongyun would silently agree, relishing entirely in the notion Xingqiu was a very talented individual, sculpted pale skin with golden eyes so breathtakingly beautiful you could not trade them for the most valuable pearl sleeping away at the bottom of the deep blue sea. He himself was a treasure, one of Liyue's finest creations. If Chongyun hadn't met his kin, he'd believe he was sculpted from the hands of Morax himself.
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"A vermillion red dawn peaks it's ardent divine sunlight over the astonishing peaks, fulfilling it's indefatigable duties. The celestial glow can't be held by even the most vigorous of grasps, nor could it captured by the most adept of thieves. His counterpart- a complete contradictory paradox, seems to be in a slumber under the perplexing dark blue waves. She rests on the ancient timeless sands like a pearl. She is captured lovingly, embraced in the sanctuary of her own safety. But when she rises, she doesn't jest to guarantee the security the ocean has over her to ourselves. So, we are bound to search forever in visionless trail, our futures an utter mystery."
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Chongyun kept that written poem hanging on his wall, signed his lover's name in an almost illegible signature. Chongyun had a difficult time wrapping his brain around the short writings, but now he understands clearly. The moon shadows what taxing and debilitating tasks his future holds ahead of him, almost taunting his losses. All of the progress, all of the times he spent chasing spirits he couldn't fathom to see, seemed so effortlessly useless now. It was a painstaking game where he was poked and prodded at for the enjoyment of what? He didn't know.
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𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿, 𝘅𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗾𝗶𝘂
Fanfiction[Major Character Death] What happens when stars go out? Does the gas dissipate into the atmosphere? Does it linger in the universe as a forgotten and alluring memory swept away by the excruciating pain of time? Chongyun doesn't know. He might never...
