Honkai Star: Rail x Reader Oneshots

I Love You, I'm Sorry ~A letter from Aventurine

Dear [Name],

The sound of your voice still haunts my thoughts—sharp, biting, and final. Two Augusts ago, that moment carved itself into me like the searing heat of Sigonia's sun. I told you the truth. A gamble, of course, like all things in my life, except this time I lost.

You didn’t like it, that truth. You left.

I remember standing by the gate of your home, the sharp scent of ozone from the desert storm overhead mingling with the iron tang of regret. Your car idled for a second too long. I thought—hoped—you might change your mind. But you drove off, taillights disappearing into the storm.

You in your Benz, and me, well… I stayed behind. Always behind.

Now, I fill my nights charming rooms full of people who adore my tricks and laugh at my lies. They think they know me—the dashing risk-taker, the lucky gambler. But luck had nothing to do with us. With you.

And what’s worse? I meant well, I really did. I just aimed low, didn’t I? Played my hand with all the finesse of a child at their first roulette table. I wanted to keep you, but my methods… I’ll make it known now: I failed.

Still, that’s just the way life goes, doesn’t it? Slam the door, spin the wheel, wait for fate to mock you. Trust me, I know—it’s always about me.

But I loved you.

And I’m sorry.

Two summers from now, I think we’ll be talking again, though not much. Just enough to pretend we’re “cool.” You’ll have your life, maybe someone who looks at you like I should have. I’ll be out on a boat somewhere, distracting myself with the sunset, the water, the drinks that never quite drown me.

I’ll wonder where you are—on a plane, I’d bet. Off to somewhere better, somewhere safe. Somewhere I could never take you.

And I’ll think, for just a moment, how surreal it all feels. Losing you.

Then I’ll remind myself that it’s okay, because that’s the way life goes. Push your luck until it breaks.

I wonder, do you remember the good parts of us? Because I do. And sometimes, they make the bad parts even harder to stomach. You were the best—and the worst. The way you could see through me, strip me bare with a single look, that sharp wit of yours like a scalpel. It terrified me.

As sick as it sounds, I loved you first for it.

But I was a dick, wasn’t I? It’s what I do, this age-old curse of mine. A gambler’s folly, thinking I could bluff my way through love the same way I do through life. You called me out, and I folded.

Now, when I laugh, it’s too loud. Too hollow. It’s the only way I know how to fill the silence you left behind.

Two years. That’s all it took for us to crash. And I stare at that wreckage every day, wondering what I could have done differently. But the truth? I don’t know if I’d have had the courage to be the man you deserved.

I try to make amends, sometimes. Not with you directly—I wouldn’t dare. I hurt you enough already. But with the world, in small ways. It’s a pathetic gesture, I know, but it’s all I have.

I’m wrong again.

Wrong for you, wrong for me.

And yet, when I joyride down the roads we once traveled together, I can’t help but lay on the horn, just to hear the echo. To prove, to myself more than anyone else, that the past still haunts me.

I love you.

And I’m sorry.

As I sit here now, pen in hand, this letter will likely never reach you. But maybe that’s for the best. You’ve moved on—I hope you have. You deserve peace.

Me? I’ll stay behind. Always behind. Watching the roulette wheel spin and wondering what might have been if only I’d played my cards right.

Because that’s the way life goes, isn’t it?

And in the quiet of my thoughts, in the shadows of my regrets, I’ll whisper the words you’ll never hear.

I love you, I’m sorry.

Yours Truly,
Kakavasha