Pushover | Aether x Reader

Thirty-Three

The two teenage boys stood side-by-side, their opposing colored eyes fixed on the crosswalk in front of them. Their hands fiddled with anything they could possibly fiddle with, be it their backpack straps or the edges of their shirts. Despite both having agreed to discuss one mutually acknowledged topic, it seemed neither was willing to properly begin the conversation.

Kunikuzushi cleared his throat once, then twice, then thrice, till he had done it so frequently it sounded almost suspiciously fake. He looked at Aether through his peripheral vision, wondering if Teyvat High's golden boy would take his charity case and maybe say something as absurd as, "Alright, I'll stop getting in your way. You can have her."

Aether looked back at him in a similar hesitant fashion

"Are you gonna say something, or should I?" he finally asked, voice quieter than usual.

Kunikuzushi scoffed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Depends. Are you planning to say something stupid?"

Aether frowned. "That's a bit harsh, considering we're both standing here avoiding the obvious."

"The obvious?" Kunikuzushi echoed, tilting his head. "You mean the part where you keep getting in my way?"

For a moment, neither said anything. The sound of passing cars filled the air between them, heavy with everything they weren't willing to admit.

Aether wanted to shoot something back—something like, "She wouldn't have chosen you either way, not with your arrogance and spite."

But that was the thing about Aether Zeus: he almost never fought fire with fire.

And that was when Kunikuzushi finally found his moment of clarity. He had known all along that he was fighting a losing game, yet he still believed he could defy the tide and rewrite fate. That was exactly where he went wrong.

You see, there were two essential differences between Aether Zeus and Kunikuzushi Rai when it came to (Y/n) (L/n). Other than the fact that (Y/n) (L/n) had already completely resigned to vulnerability with Aether Zeus, their priorities greatly differed.

Kunikuzushi yearned for the warmth and happiness that (Y/n) alone could bring him. Nothing in this world compared to his fervent desire to finally fulfill the years-long ache within him—to hold her close, to call her his.

Aether, on the other hand, was the very opposite. All he ever wished for was that (Y/n) would stop sacrificing her own well-being for the sake of others. Though he wrestled with his own people-pleasing nature, he tried to be better for her—so that, in turn, she might learn to be kinder to herself.

Kunikuzushi sighed as the crosswalk stoplight finally turned green.

Aether took the first step ahead, but then halted when he realized the purple-haired fellow was not walking alongside him. 

"...Rai?" Aether turned around when he noticed the purple-haired boy still standing at the curb.

"Fine," Kunikuzushi said, arms crossed, his tone somewhere between irritation and resignation. "You win, Zeus."

Aether frowned. "What are you talking about?"

Before Kunikuzushi could respond, Aether's phone buzzed in his pocket. He hesitated before pulling it out—her name flashed across the screen. His thumb hovered over the answer button.

Kunikuzushi let out a quiet, almost amused breath. "Go on. She's probably waiting for you."

Aether looked up, uncertainty flickering across his expression. "Rai, I—"

"Don't," Kunikuzushi cut in, gaze fixed on the crosswalk ahead. "Go home. Be with her. I'll handle the speech."

There was a pause. Then Aether nodded once, quietly, before walking off.

Kunikuzushi stayed behind, the glow of the traffic lights shifting above him. 

Somehow, that felt too anti-climactic for a fight he did not even win, and Kunikuzushi was not used to losing fights.

Kunikuzushi sighed again, running a hand through his hair as he reached the other side of the street. 

"Whatever," he muttered. "No use fretting over what's already done."

________

Aether ran till his lungs burned. 

He ran so fast he tripped on a crack—but he was on his feet again in an instant, ignoring the searing pain in his knee as he pushed forward. So fast it almost felt like he was flying.

The early morning air was cool and clean, stinging his lungs with every hurried breath. The sun hadn't fully risen yet, and the world was painted in soft golds and sleepy blues. His footsteps echoed faintly across the quiet street, the only sound in a neighborhood that hadn't quite woken up.

A bird took off from a nearby lamppost as he passed, startled by his pace. He barely noticed. The only image in his mind was her—shoulders drawn, eyes weary, pretending that she was fine because that's what she always did.

Not today.

His pulse drummed in his ears as he turned the corner, sweat beading at his temples despite the chill. The faint morning light touched the rooftops, stretching longer shadows across the ground. There, just ahead, was his house—their house, technically. Her room's window was open, curtains swaying gently with the breeze.

He slowed at last, chest heaving, the ache in his knee finally catching up to him. For a moment, he just stood there—breathing, trembling, realizing he didn't even know what he'd say when he saw her.

But he knew he had to.

Because after all this time, she deserved someone who wouldn't just wait for her—someone who would run.

He reached the front door and tried the knob. It turned easily. She hadn't even locked it. A quiet laugh—half relief, half ache—escaped him. Maybe, deep down, she'd known she'd call him back eventually.

He stepped inside, the soft creak of the floorboards echoing in the still morning air. The apartment was dim, curtains half-drawn, dust motes drifting through the golden light.

Then he heard it—a shaky breath, followed by a quiet sniffle.

"(Y/n)?" he called gently.

Before he could take another step, she appeared from the hallway, eyes swollen and wet, hair slightly disheveled like she hadn't slept. When she saw him standing there, her lips quivered—then she broke.

She stumbled forward, tears spilling over as she crashed into his chest. He caught her instantly, arms wrapping around her trembling frame.

"Everything's so unfair, Aether," she cried, voice cracking as she clung to him. "Why can't we all just be kind to one another? Why do we find the need to constantly push others down? What's wrong with us?"

Her words came in gasps, raw and uneven. "What's the point of running this anti-bullying campaign when the real bullies are our families?" Her voice faltered, shaking. "They called just to remind me I'll never be welcome there. They'll formally disown me at court next week."

The blonde boy held her tighter, one hand gently resting on the back of her head as she wept against his shoulder. 

He didn't tell her it would be okay. 

He didn't try to fix it. 

He just stayed there, steady and silent, until her sobs began to slow, her breathing syncing with his.