Honkai: Star Rail oneshots

🟡 [blade] by the edge

cw: Blade-centric, Stellaron Hunters, depression, implied suicide

i have not done Kafka's companion quest by the time of writing this, so it might be ooc? up to u

🚂 _ _ _ _ 💫

First it was his own sword. Then Kafka's gun. Silver Wolf's glove was a bit more difficult to figure out, but he got it to turn on eventually. Just that he wasn't aware of where the blade would come out of; if he'd known, he definitely would not have done it right in their game room and left the mess for the young hacker to deal with.

Now, Blade has a spoon to stir his soggy cereal around with. He struggles to break the near-complete silence. "I'm sorry for all the trouble."

"That's okay," Kafka says. She's probably smiling, but Blade can't bring himself to look at her. His eyes are glued to the tabletop, where her bare hands lie, fingers loosely interlaced. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"I'm afraid it's too late for that." He sounds so dry, bitter. Blade squeezes his eyes shut. The scent of milk adds to his growing nausea.

"Why..." Silver Wolf starts. The possibilities strike fear into him. Why do you hurt yourself? Why do you want to die? He doesn't know how to verbalize to her the self-loathing he feels, how to clarify the burden that is him being alive. How to make sense of when or how it all started, because even he himself can no longer remember. Death to him is like a leap of faith, except he's always harnessed at the top, looking over the edge but never allowed to jump. Blade tries not to think about who strapped him in in the first place.

"Why don't you go out with me this afternoon? And you don't have to eat that if you don't want to." Silver Wolf reaches over and pushes his bowl aside. A pang of guilt hits Blade since Kafka has personally prepared that, but he does feel better once it's gone from his sight. "It's just a snack run. You don't even have to do anything. Just get some fresh air — I know that helps me feel better."

Blade's first instinct is to find an excuse to reject, but Kafka is faster than him. "I have some work to finish, so I'll be here anyway. You two are free to go." He glances up at her, catching her expectant smile. You're not going to turn Silver Wolf down, are you?

"... Sure." Speaking feels easier this time around. Not easy, just easier. "When are we leaving?"

"I'll grab my jacket and then we can go, if that's fine with you," Silver Wolf replies casually. She stands and clears away his bowl in one smooth motion, bringing with it part of the tension that has been weighing him down. Blade glances at Kafka again. She seems unbothered by the fact that her handiwork is being dumped down the drain.

"Um." He dislikes how his voice is coming out so hoarse, but Blade forces himself to continue. "In the future... if you two could not leave your weapons lying around, I would appreciate it."

"Noted," Kafka says straightaway.

Silver Wolf is less lenient. "And your sword?"

"Uh...." Blade's mind immediately goes to the sheathed weapon underneath his bed. Kafka made him swear off of using it outside of combat situations a few months ago, when she discovered him after the act with a shard of it by his side. He hasn't broken the promise, so far. Silver Wolf has every right to be suspicious though — and it is Kafka once again who swoops in.

"He can take care of that himself." She extends her hand out to him. Supple skin against crisscrossing bandages. "Right, Bladie?"

He feels undeserving of her kindness. She squeezes his hand anyway, mangled flesh and all. He wordlessly nods.

Silver Wolf brings them to the convenience store just as she said. The air outside is cool, earthy, signifying a rain shower not too long ago. As he navigates shallow puddles and muddy patches of grass, Blade does feel his heart becoming lighter.

"You know," Silver Wolf begins, before pausing and gesturing toward a pack of chips on the top row. Blade grabs it and brings it down to her. "I should hook you up with some video games. Nice escape from reality, and fun to boot." She winks at him while pushing the shopping cart to the register.

Blade isn't sure what to say. His habit makes a comeback. "I wouldn't know how to play them."

"Gah, excuses!" Silver Wolf swipes her card with a flourish. Blade frowns. "Hey, we're told not to—"

"Quit worrying, will you?" She whips around, almost startling him backward. There's a seriousness in her eyes that he's only ever glimpsed during particularly hard missions. "If you aren't sure about something, ask. And if you need help, I'll be there." Her jabbing finger turns into a firm hand on his shoulder, though admittedly it's a reach. "We'll be there."

Blade doesn't think she knows what she's committing to. He couldn't possibly ask that of anyone, anyhow. Regardless, the lump in his throat grows the more Silver Wolf's eyes bore into him. He forcefully clears it away. "Uh, let me—"

"Stop it." She slaps his hand away from the grocery bags. "Just stand there and look menacing, okay? You clearing the path is helpful enough."

"Excuse me?" Blade mutters. But his companion is already leaving the store. Clicking his tongue, he chases after her, wondering what shenanigans she's going to rope him into when they get back.

High above, pale rays of sun slip through the dissipating clouds....