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All she wanted was a weapon.
A tool to hold the Gnosis.
To shape him like a swordsmith would shape a lump of steal.
Nothing else mattered.
So why was it so hard?
When he cried, something inside her ached. When he fell, she wanted nothing more than to run to him.
She never did. All he was good for was being a weapon. There is no room for tears, for mistakes. He was not a replacement for Makoto, he wasn't even truly alive.
Just a puppet.
Just a puppet, made with one goal in mind. Every mistake he made. She could hear him sobbing every night.
He was weak.
Every day she'd try again. Push him through harsher training by the day. Maybe it wasn't a mistake? Perhaps he just needed more time. One of these days, surely, he'd be perfect.
With time those fake emotions would fade. When that happened, when he realized his true purpose. Maybe then she could do it. She could finally turn him into the perfect weapon. And she could do it without regrets.
Each day.
Every night.
His crying persisted.
Whenever night fell, the weeping would begin. It would echo inside her head, make her heart hurt in a way it hadn't since she lost her sister.
Somewhere down the line the training eased. Not being able to force a child (puppet, she'd have to remind herself) to be put through the borderline torture.
At some point the puppet child, started approaching her. It started with small things. A small smile in her direction. Or a wave from a distance.
As time passed he would go out of his way to talk to her. In one case he even asked if they could eat together.
Despite herself she found she was agreeing, even offering to make some dessert herself. She had to admit it was nice. No one had been there this way, not since her friends and Makoto.
They ate together in relative silence. While neither needed the food, she always enjoyed it, he seemingly shared the trait.
She found herself excited when it was time for the boy to try her dessert. No one ever would eat what she made, always saying something about "not being proper for the Archon to cook for those lesser than her."
In the end she had eaten most of it herself. She had learned he hadn't actually eaten food before. Apparently he did not enjoy sweets, a trait they did not share.
Sharing meals, or short conversations became more common between the two. Each time Ei could feel something inside her defrost. The boy had stopped crying every night, opening up to her as if she was his mother.
She couldn't be.
They had gotten too close, too soft. He was supposed to be her perfect weapon, a puppet of her creation. Not a child, not her child. A puppet. A weapon.
He was too weak.
She was too weak.
The young Kitsune had warned her.
Yet she didn't listen.
Time was moving forward without her. If she didn't put a stop to it, there would be no eternity.
Abandoned.
Left in the Shakkei Pavilion.
Something inside her broke all over.
He was a failure.
She was a failure.
But it wouldn't stay that way. She'd restart. Make a stronger weapon. One who wouldn't break. Wouldnt break her. She would get her eternity.
~
All he wanted was a mother.
Family.
A creator who would hold him.
Who would hug him.
Someone who'd share their warmth with him.
What he never wanted was to be a weapon.
From his very first memory he spent day in and day out "training." Horrible training that would leave him trembling.
Locked away from the outside world, the nights were long and lonely. Everything he did couldn't prevent the sobs that shook his body each night. Uncontrollable. Making his aching body hurt so deeply he was never sure where it hurt.
The servants would look at him with emotions he couldn't quite place. Maybe disgust? Or pity? They always chose to avoid him when possible. The broken puppet who couldn't even fulfill his original purpose.
He was replused by himself.
Of course he knew why he was here. Every day he could feel the pain in his chest. A hole fit for a Gnosis, for his heart. He wanted nothing more than to take it.
To be worthy.
To be strong.
While he never wanted to be a weapon, he wanted her to be proud of him. All he wanted was her to notice him. Pay more attention to the child she created. Not just toss him to the wolves day after day.
Why couldn't he have both?
It wasn't fair. He was missing his heart. She left an empty space and refused to fill it. It caused him so much pain. She caused him that pain.
So why...
Why did he still want her love?
Surely it was erroneous. Something was horribly wrong with him. Maybe it was the difference between himself and a human? No truly living, breathing being would still think this way.
So the tears continued to flow.
What he never expected was her to change. One day she ended his training early. While only a few minutes it was something she'd never done. Some days it was longer but never, ever was it shorter.
The strange behavior continued. Almost everyday they'd stop sooner and sooner, even if by nothing more than a minute. He could tell, this was his dream for so many years.
So why did it feel wrong?
One day he took a chance. His mother creator was being strange, so what better time? He started reaching out. Waving to her in passing, or offering a small greeting with the largest (albeit small) smile he could offer.
She never rejected them.
At first he could tell she was confused? Or apprehensive maybe? Soon however she began returning his gestures. He had never seen her smile at him before. Most days she wouldn't even look at her failed creation. Now he saw her smiles, and heard her voice softer than he ever knew it could be, almost daily.
This new routine continued. Slowly he would initiate more contact. Short conversations became normal. One day he even risked asking her to share a meal. Like a real family would. He didn't expect anything more than rejection, so his shock to her agreeing must have been painted on his face like a Maiko's makeup.
Overjoyed was the only word he could use to accurately describe his mood that day. His mother? (He could call her that now right?) even offered to make a dessert for them. While people never bothered feeding him, he could hear the servants of the house preparing meals. Trying food, especially something his mother made special for them, made him feel warm inside.
The food was amazing, he couldn't even begin describing it. That wasn't the best part of the night for him. Spending time with his creator, his mother. He could feel something inside him being filled. Some hole beyond perception, near his missing heart.
When dessert came he couldn't help the excited, inpatient, shaking. Well at first...
While he never had food, not to mention dessert before. Something about his mother's burnt smelling "dessert" was off putting.
Despite the strange look and the horrid smell he took a large bite.
That was a mistake.
Not wanting to ruin this for himself he gagged down the "food" using all his will power to keep it down. When offered more he politely refused.
It was that moment he decided.
Desserts were the worst evil in Teyvat.
Their relationship seemed to be getting better. Each day she'd smile more, and he could feel that hole getting smaller every time. His training had all but stopped. He no longer cried during those long nights.
This was what living had to feel like.
It was so unexpected.
The previous day they had yet another meal together. She had told him stories of his aunt Makoto.
He was happy.
She was happy?
So why did it turn out this way?
Maybe he did something wrong. That had to be it. He made her mad, she opened up and he broke her trust. It was the only explanation.
Why...
Why did she abandon him?
He could do better, he never meant to make her upset. All he wanted was a family.
A mother.
Day after day, he waited for her to return. She had to come back, she couldn't just leave him.
His body grew cold, the hole deep inside tore open. A wound he could not repair.
It hurthurthurthurthurthurthurthurthurt.
He curled in on himself, trying to keep any remaining warmth inside.
There he laid.
Time became meaningless as he waited. Hoped. She would one-day return.
She never did.
The failed creation, finally abandoned by its creator.
Just a puppet.
~