Honkai Star: Rail x Reader Oneshots

"I loved you like the sun, yet you loved me like the eclipse." | SundayxReader

"I loved you like the sun, yet you loved me like the eclipse," he whispered, his voice as soft and fleeting as a memory. Sunday stood before you, his eyes dimmed, the navy pupils lost in a sea of unshed tears. His halo flickered faintly, its once vibrant glow now a trembling reminder of his fractured divinity.

You couldn't look at him—not fully. To meet his gaze was to confront the truth you had both tried to outrun. So, instead, you focused on his trembling hands, gloved in black, clenched tightly at his sides. You remembered those hands as a refuge, their warmth steady even when his words faltered. Now, they were trembling barriers, guarding the chasm that had grown between you.

"I gave you my light, my constancy, my everything," he continued, his voice breaking as he took a tentative step closer. "And yet...you only came to me in the moments when your world was in shadow."

His wings fluttered, the feathers catching faint light as though they, too, were straining to hold him upright. You wanted to reach out, to say something—anything—but the words tangled in your throat like a knot you couldn’t untie.

"I never asked for more," he said, his tone sharpening with an edge of bitterness. "I knew what I was to you—a fleeting comfort, an illusion of peace. But even illusions have limits."

You flinched at his words, the truth of them cutting deeper than you’d thought possible. He wasn’t wrong. He had always been there, unyielding, while you drifted in and out, carried by tides of your own fear and longing. You had loved him, hadn’t you? Or was it simply the light he offered, the way it burned away the shadows you couldn’t face alone?

Sunday turned away, his shoulders taut with restrained emotion. His scarf fluttered, the golden underside catching the light like a thread of hope unraveling. "I loved you like the sun," he murmured again, the words more to himself now, "steady, unyielding, radiant. But you—"

He faltered, his voice cracking as the weight of his emotions bore down. When he spoke again, it was quieter, a whisper trembling with sorrow. "You loved me like the eclipse—beautiful, fleeting, only when it was convenient to forget the rest of the world."

His words crushed you, their truth unbearable. You had basked in his warmth, his constancy, without realizing how deeply you had wounded him by taking it for granted. And now, faced with the fragility of what you had shared, you could see the fractures you’d ignored all along.

"I didn’t mean to—" you began, but your voice broke under the weight of your guilt.

He turned to face you again, his golden eyes glistening, filled with a sadness so profound it stole the air from your lungs. "I know," he said softly, a faint, weary smile gracing his lips. "You never meant to. But intention doesn’t erase the pain, does it?"

For a moment, silence stretched between you, vast and aching. The tension in his wings softened, and his halo steadied, though its glow was dim. He reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours. It trembled, caught between yearning and restraint, before finally retreating.

"I need to let go," he whispered. "For both of us. Maybe, one day, we’ll find the balance we never could before. But not like this. Not now."

And with that, he turned away, his steps light but unyielding. You watched as he disappeared into the distance, his presence fading like the final rays of a setting sun. All that remained was the echo of his voice and the crushing realization that you had loved him too late.