genshin short stories ig

xingyun angst 1

The book's pages flew gently in the wind, stained red. Their words unintelligible, just black scribbles on a page. The pen that dutifully scratched out those words lay abandoned on the cold freezing ground, just like Xingqiu.

Chongyun opened up the flyer he had snatched from the billboard, hoping for something, anything to exorcise. Recently, there hadn't been many cases, it's like they had all dried up and disappeared.
Just like Xingqiu.

Chongyun hadn't seen his close friend in a week or so, his door never being opened. The outside of the buildings owned by his family were starting to have cobwebs, and vines were growing up the walls surprisingly fast.
 The flowers that grew on the vines were a similar shade to Xingqius's hair, the dark blue noticeable against the vanilla-colored walls.

He smiled slightly at the memory of his friend.

Memory.

That made it seem like he was gone. Which he wasn't. Right?

He looked down at the crumpled paper in his hand.

"Recently, a hooded figure has been seen scaring off adventurers in the Dunyu Ruins. The figure has been reported to be holding some sort of writing utensil, with a small feather attached. If any experienced exorcists could rid the ruins of this spirit, they would be paid back generously."

 He sighed. It was worth a shot, and there was something odd about this case as well. He had never heard of a spirit that could hold objects, let alone be seen by normal people. He shouldered his pack and set off towards Dunyu Ruins.

As he reached the old ruins, a cold feeling, dread, washed over him. It engulfed his entire body, making him, someone who was accustomed to cold, shiver.
He continued to walk towards the source of this cold, shivering with every step. Chongyun saw them. A hooded figure, twirling a pen in their slender hand.

The movements seemed familiar, but he didn't let that bother him.

His claymore flashed and he stabbed the figure, waiting for the effects to kick in.

Then he saw the blood. Dark red blood seeped from the hole he had created in this person.

The figure fell to the ground, the pen rolling out of their hand. The hood over their face fell down.

Xingqiu.

It was Xingqiu.

A small scream escaped Chongyuns lips, echoing off the sad and empty ruins. He rushed to Xingqius's side, examing the wound that he himself had inflicted. The tears on both of their pale faces froze to their cheeks, leaving crystals on them.

"Xing- Xingqiu- I- I'm sorry I should've- Xingqiu please just-"
"Yun? Yun it's- it's okay. You exorcised your first spirit! You- You did it!"

The smile on Xingqius's face quickly faded as he coughed up more blood than was coming out of his wound.

"He- Hey. Yun. It's- It's gonna be okay."

His hand left Chongyuns and fell to the ground, making a hollow noise against the frozen terrain.

A book fell out of Xingqius's cloak, and one singular page fell out.
 
"As light as the stars at night,
As bright as the sun during day.
Your smiles lights up my life,
bringing joy wherever you may play."

 In messy handwriting below, there was a note.

"To Chongyun."

It was. For him.
He pulled Xingqiu closer to him, his eyes hurting from crying so much. He was shaking so violently the Xingqiu himself was moving.
Hours he sat there. Maybe even days. He didn't know, or care.

Not anymore.

Chongyun was found, half-dead, a week later.

His eyes had frozen shut and he had severe frostbite.

He never exorcised another spirit again.

Xingqius's body is buried near the family house, and Chongyun visits every day, practicing poetry, which he had taken up in honor of Xingqiu.

Every year during winter, when your nose turns pink, you can see him talking to a gravestone.

Although, of course, if you're someone special, you may see the spirit with dark blue hair floating not so far away, listening to his every word.