𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗶𝘀 - genshin impact oneshots

furina, the weight of quiet comfort

you heard soft cries coming from the room to your right. it's late at night; who would be awake at this hour? curiosity tugged at you, so you pushed the door open slowly. there, in the dim candlelight, you saw lady furina huddled in the corner, clutching one of her pets close to her chest. her shoulders trembled with each quiet sob, her face half-hidden in the soft fur as her fingers gently stroked its back, as if seeking comfort.

you hesitated, unsure if you should intrude. but before you could turn away, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "why... why do they always leave?" she murmured, her gaze distant, almost as though she were speaking to herself. her pet nudged her hand with a soft whimper, and she let out a shaky sigh. "you're still here, aren't you? you won't leave me... like the others." the weight of her words hung in the air, each one heavy with a sorrow you rarely saw from her. she finally looked up, her eyes red-rimmed but wide, noticing you for the first time. "oh..." she paused, quickly wiping her eyes. "you didn't... you didn't see anything, did you?" you opened your mouth, unsure what to say, but finally settled on a gentle response. "i'm here if you need someone, lady furina." she looked down and spared a small, sad smile. "thank you... but i don't think anyone can help with this. i fear im too far gone." her gaze drifted away again, lost in a place you couldn't reach. "lady furina..? can i get you anything?" you spoke softly.

she looked at you, eyes softening with something between gratitude and exhaustion. she opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, her gaze falling back down to the pet in her arms. "it's... it's silly, really," she began quietly, a fragile laugh escaping her. "they all think i'm strong... that i'm so put together. but sometimes i just... i just want someone to stay. someone who won't... disappear." a silence settled over the room, gentle but profound, as her words lingered in the air. you took a careful seat beside her, close but not too close, letting her decide if she wanted the company. finally, she spoke again, her voice softer, almost inaudible. "thank you... for not leaving." 

slowly, as if testing the waters, you reached out, placing your hand gently on her shoulder. her body tensed at first, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, but she didn't pull away. instead, she let out a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, leaning ever so slightly into the warmth of your touch. her small, hesitant movement felt like a surrender, a silent acknowledgment that, perhaps, she didn't have to hold everything by herself. "i'm here," you murmured, letting your hand rest lightly, offering a steady presence. "you don't have to go through this alone, not tonight." her head tilted ever so slightly, resting against your shoulder. for a moment, she seemed unsure, as though struggling with the idea of allowing herself this moment of closeness. but slowly, she let her weight settle, her cheek brushing against your shoulder, her breathing deepening as if finding a small measure of peace. her pet curled up between you both, its warmth adding to the fragile comfort of the moment. you let her lean against you, holding her gently, your presence a quiet promise that, for tonight, she didn't have to bear the weight alone. her hand found yours, fingers curling tightly around it, clinging to the warmth you offered as if it were a lifeline. and as you sat together in the silence, you felt her breaths become steadier, her heart finding calm against the steady beat of your own.

"i don't even know what to say," she whispered, her voice raw. "i always think i can handle it, that i'm strong enough. but some nights..." she trailed off, her voice catching in her throat. instinctively, you wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, grounding her in the quiet reassurance of your presence. "some nights are harder," you finished for her, your voice soft.

she nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek as she sank into the comfort you offered. "it just... it just hurts sometimes, more than i'd like to admit."