Archive of Our Own

“Durin, did you hear me?”

Durin blinked, realizing that he had been zoning out. His attention had drifted to something entirely different from the conversation he was having with the person wearing a hat in front of him.

“Sorry, I…” Durin searched for an excuse, but before he could find one, a sigh had already escaped from the other person.

“If you were tired, you should’ve said so,” Wanderer muttered as he lowered his hat, making it harder for Durin to see his expression. But from the tone of his voice, Durin knew Hat Guy was disappointed.

There was something Durin wanted to say, but his instincts told him that saying it now wouldn't end well, so he kept his mouth shut. He fidgeted with his fingers before forcing a smile instead, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Hat Guy, let’s have dinner together!” he offered.

“…”

The man in front of him finally met his eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he turned his back. His hat dissipated, becoming a bright halo behind him.

“You can have dinner with someone else instead. I’ll be leaving.”

Wanderer rose from the ground. As if he knew Durin would try to grab his hand, the man merely turned his head and quietly whispered,

“Good night.”

That was the cue. It really was a goodbye for the day.

In a small voice, Durin could only reply, “Good night. See you tomorrow.”

He was left alone at the lighthouse of Dornman Port.

As Wanderer's figure quickly faded from view, an immense sense of regret welled up inside Durin for reasons he couldn't quite understand. At the same time, he felt there was nothing he could do. His mind was too occupied by something else to focus, even when he was with his best friend.

Durin slowly lifted his left hand. Tied around his wrist was a red ribbon, fastened into a simple bow. His eyes remained fixed on it alone.

A few hours ago.

Before meeting Wanderer, Durin had been playing with Klee. The little Spark Knight was showing him all sorts of items that her mother, Alice, had brought back.

Most of them were contraptions he had never seen before. But among those items, his gaze settled on an ordinary red ribbon instead—the only thing that felt out of place, as if it had ended up in the box simply because Klee had forgotten to put it away.

“Are you interested?”

The sudden woman’s voice startled Durin.

“Mommy!” Klee shouted happily.

Alice was sitting on the frame of the open window, her arrival completely silent. She hopped into the room and walked over to Klee, gently stroking her head. After spending a moment with her daughter, Alice approached Durin, picked up the red ribbon, and held it up in front of him.

“How nostalgic. So this ribbon was here…” she murmured. Her gaze then returned to Durin. “Do you want to know what this is, Little Durin?” A knowing smirk spread across her face.

“…Um, isn't that just an ordinary ribbon?”

“Of course not! Here, try it yourself.”

Alice suddenly knelt in front of him and tied the ribbon around his left wrist.

“W-Wait, Aunt Alice…?”

Durin was startled by her actions, but he was too late to stop her.

“Done!” She smiled proudly. “Now, what do you see?”

“…What do I see?”

He frowned in confusion. Durin looked around the room, but nothing seemed to have changed as far as he could tell.

“No, no.” Alice snapped her fingers, drawing his attention back. “Look at me, or Klee. Do you see anything?”

Following her instructions, Durin shifted his gaze between Alice and Klee. Then he noticed something on Alice's finger that hadn't been there before.

“…A string?”

Alice’s face lit up. “What color?” she asked eagerly.

“Red?”

“Ohoho~”

Her laughter echoed throughout the room, even catching Klee's attention.

“The magic hasn't faded after all!”

“What is it? What is it?” Klee peeked over beside her, curious about the conversation.

Durin turned toward Klee. He saw the same string on her finger, except this one was white instead. Tilting his head in confusion, he quickly looked down at his own hands, inspecting each finger.

The string was there too.

It was tied around his pinky.

“Mine is… red too? But…”

There was a difference between his and Alice's.

His red string was short, reaching only as far as his elbow, just like Klee's—albeit a different color. Alice's, however, stretched far beyond the window, extending somewhere Durin couldn't perceive.

Alice then began explaining the ribbon's purpose—why it allowed Durin to see the illusion of colored strings.

She told him the string he saw was called the "Red String of Fate." The ribbon was a magical item that allowed its wearer to see their fated partner. Although the legend surrounding it was often exaggerated, it remained quite popular among young ladies. Many counterfeit versions had been sold over the years, but Alice had somehow managed to find the real deal.

She said the ribbon's magic had its limits, though no one knew exactly what they were, and Alice hadn't thought too deeply about it. She had simply found the item interesting enough to buy. Then, after so many years, she completely forgot about it.

Barbeloth had apparently been skeptical about the ribbon's credibility, but Alice had simply brushed it aside. It was still a “fun” little item, after all. Besides, the ribbon had shown that her own string was red and already connected to another person—her husband. She argued that, while the legend might be embellished, there was still some truth in it.

According to the story, a red string indicated that a person had already met their fated partner at least once. If the red string was connected to another person's, it meant their lives had successfully intertwined, and they would be blessed with a "happily ever after." That was how the tale went.

Alice also explained that a white string meant you had yet to meet your fated partner.

Durin hadn't taken his eyes off the red string around his finger. Alice seemed intrigued that his string had already turned red. She was quite curious about who the other person might be, though that was something none of them would know until the day it finally happened.

But what had distracted Durin throughout the entire time he spent with his best friend was something else entirely.

He had definitely seen a string on Wanderer's finger.

He had blinked countless times and rubbed his eyes over and over, yet the string neither disappeared nor changed.

The problem was that it didn't match anything Alice had told him only a few hours ago. Because the color of the string wasn't red.

Nor was it white.

It was black.

“…What does that mean?”

Sadly, Alice had already gone off to who knew where, so his question never received an answer.

His whole body shuddered under the cold night wind. He should head back to his accommodation for the night. Before jumping down from the lighthouse, Durin glanced toward the direction where his friend had disappeared. If he stubbornly went looking for him now, he was sure it would only upset Hat Guy even more.

At the very least, they had already promised to spend some time together tomorrow, so Durin didn't feel too sad about Wanderer leaving. Still, not being able to have dinner together was a pity.

But he would try again tomorrow.

Ever since the magic ribbon had been tied around his wrist, Durin had witnessed many kinds of strings. White strings. Unconnected red strings. Connected red strings. Some of the red strings even stretched a long distance, branching off in many different directions.

Honestly, it was almost distracting; but fortunately, after wearing the ribbon for a few hours, he slowly got used to navigating the countless strings dangling across his vision. As long as he didn't focus on them too much, the strings would gradually fade and become transparent, allowing him to see clearly again. On top of that, they were intangible, so he didn't have to worry about tripping over them.

At the port, he had also seen a pair whose red strings were already connected, yet one of them seemed to be happily spending time—or rather, being unusually close—with someone whose string was still white. Durin tried not to stare, though he couldn't help feeling as if he had witnessed something he was never meant to know. That was definitely too much information for him.

Many of the people he knew also had red strings. Some of them were already connected to someone. Keeping that knowledge to himself, Durin silently promised that he would forget everything he had seen and take it to his grave. Once Alice came back, he would tell her this magic ribbon needed to be sealed away.

Is this what scrying fate feels like? Like how Aunt Barbeloth does it? Catching a glimpse of destinies already intertwined...

Though unsurprisingly, it wasn't something he enjoyed doing.

Durin tossed and turned in his sleep. His thoughts kept drifting back to the black string tied around his best friend's pinky. The color bothered him that much. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he should tell Hat Guy about it. Hat Guy was smart. If Durin explained everything, perhaps he would know the reason behind it.

But there was also a chance that whatever conclusion they reached wouldn't be a pleasant one.

Morning came in the blink of an eye.

As promised, Durin got ready early. If possible, he wanted them to have breakfast together this time. And sure enough, his wish was granted.

“Waking up early?”

The moment he stepped outside the inn, someone was already there, casually leaning against the wall. Recognizing the voice, Durin's expression instantly brightened.

“Hat Guy! Since when have you been here?” he asked as he hurried over.

His gaze briefly fell on the crossed arms, where the black string was still tied around Wanderer's pinky.

Durin tried not to make it obvious this time.

“Just a few minutes ago,” Hat Guy replied casually, his voice already back to its usual tone.

Durin secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

“Wanna eat breakfast together then?”

“…Sure.”

Durin led the way to a nearby tavern.

They talked while leisurely eating breakfast—or rather, it was Durin who kept talking while Wanderer patiently listened. Durin also brought up the crisis in Sumeru.

After hearing about what had happened, he had been genuinely worried about Wanderer's well-being. He had even wanted to fly across the sea to look for him, but Albedo had stopped him before he could do anything reckless.

Then he received a letter from Hat Guy saying that, after settling everything in Sumeru, he would visit Mondstadt for a short "break."

Durin had been overjoyed by the news.

Once they met again, he wanted to make sure Hat Guy was truly doing well, so he suggested they visit Dornman Port together.

After breakfast, they took a leisurely walk, gradually reaching the quieter part of town. The scent of Windrest Flowers drifting on the breeze caught Durin's attention. He remembered his brother mentioning that perfume made from those flowers was quite popular. Maybe he could buy one as a souvenir for Hat Guy.

Wanderer walked a step ahead of him. The wind was particularly strong today, so Durin watched as his friend reached up to steady his hat. The small ornaments dangling from it produced a faint chiming sound.

Durin found himself oddly fascinated by it—like a cat captivated by a dangling toy—but his attention quickly shifted when his eyes landed on Wanderer's face.

The man beneath the hat was staring out toward the sea, his gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the horizon. Somewhere Durin couldn't understand.

An uncomfortable twinge suddenly tightened in his chest.

Before he realized it, his hand shot forward and grabbed Wanderer's wrist, abruptly stopping him.

Wanderer turned to him with a questioning look, silently demanding an explanation.

The moment Durin realized he had acted on instinct, he slowly let go.

Why had he done that? His body had moved on its own. The uneasiness still lingered inside him, yet he couldn't pinpoint exactly what was bothering him.

“What is it?” Hat Guy prompted.

“W-Want to visit Millhaven?” Durin quickly pointed toward the small village in the distance, surrounded by flower fields. “We came by boat yesterday, so we didn't get the chance to stop there.”

Hat Guy studied Durin's face, as if searching for something hidden beneath his words.

Durin did his best not to waver.

Fortunately, after a moment, Hat Guy simply looked toward the village and shrugged.

“Lead the way, then.”

Taking the opportunity, Durin reached over and held Wanderer's hand again, more gently this time. He immediately noticed the frown forming on his friend's face, yet Wanderer neither protested nor pulled away.

The uneasy feeling from before slowly melted away, replaced by a comforting warmth.

A quiet giggle escaped Durin. Of course, it didn't go unnoticed.

“…How childish,” Wanderer grumbled.

The air in Millhaven was noticeably different, its atmosphere much slower than the bustling port. Surrounded by fields of Windrest Flowers, it was a pleasant place to escape the busy town.

“Hat Guy, do you wear perfume?”

“I don't.”

“Then let's make one! I heard we can pick the flowers ourselves, and they'll turn them into perfume.”

“Did you not hear me?” Wanderer retorted. “I don't use it.”

“Come on, you can still keep it as a souvenir!” Durin pleaded.

“It seems to me that you're the one who wants the perfume.” The man in the hat crossed his arms, looking at Durin expectantly.

“Yeah, you're right.”

In all honesty, Durin simply wanted to give him one. It didn't matter whether Wanderer decided to use it or not. So Durin decided to take matters into his own hands instead.

Without waiting for his companion, he walked toward a lady picking flowers nearby to ask whether they really could make perfume from the flowers they picked.

Unable to stop him, Wanderer ended up following behind as Durin eagerly searched for blooming flowers throughout the field. Although they were all the same species, each flower surprisingly carried a slightly different fragrance. He had to choose carefully to find one that suited his companion.

“Is it really that serious?” the companion trailing behind him commented. “You've been comparing those two flowers for five minutes…”

“Yes.” Durin nodded in seriousness. “I have to carefully consider the scent that will go well together.”

Wanderer merely hummed before quietly watching him again.

Durin glanced over his shoulder. Wanderer was still following a few steps behind, much to his surprise. He had thought Hat Guy would simply find a place to sit and wait, yet there he was, standing with his arms crossed while absentmindedly looking elsewhere.

“Hat Guy, you should pick a flower too,” Durin encouraged. “You'll be surprised by how different each one smells!”

“…Is that so?”

Durin caught the slight tilt of his head, accompanied by a scoff. He hoped Hat Guy would at least choose one. He wouldn't force him, though. Even if Wanderer refused, Durin would still pick one on his behalf.

In the end, it took him nearly an hour to choose flowers from the field. His knees were almost numb by the time he finished, but it was worth it.

Carefully cradled in his arms were six flowers he had chosen one by one.

Just as he was about to show Hat Guy his selection, Durin realized the man in the hat was nowhere in sight.

A wave of panic immediately surged through him.

No—his heart sank. That same uneasy feeling returned.

Before he could take flight to look for him, something soft brushed against his cheek. Startled by the sudden tingle, Durin turned around.

Someone was holding out a pair of flowers from behind him.

“Hat Guy!!”

How had he not realized Hat Guy was standing right behind him?

Durin had become so absorbed in choosing flowers that he had completely lost awareness of his surroundings.

The man in the hat raised an eyebrow at his outburst.

“What are you fussing about?”

“I thought—I thought you… left.”

Durin froze at his own words.

At the same time, he finally understood. The moment those words left his mouth, he realized where that uneasy feeling had come from.

But was he feeling this way because of what happened last night? No, that couldn't be.

Even though they had parted rather abruptly yesterday, Hat Guy had still wished him good night before leaving. He hadn't just disappeared.

The glimpse of hidden emotion Durin had seen on Wanderer's face earlier had made his body move on its own.

Now he finally understood why.

He had felt that if he hadn't stopped Wanderer at that moment, he would somehow lose him—as if he were nothing more than a feather that could be carried away by the wind.

But that wasn't the only reason.

Right.

He didn't want to admit it, but Durin was still bothered by the black string hanging from Wanderer's finger.

If a white string meant a future that had yet to come, and a red string promised a "happy ending"...

Then did a black string mean...

A bad ending?

“Hey.”

Wanderer's voice gently pulled Durin out of his spiraling thoughts.

“I wouldn't just leave without saying anything. I'm not that inconsiderate…”

“Yeah... I know...”

How could he have doubted him? Durin felt disappointed in himself for letting those negative thoughts consume him.

It was all because of the magic ribbon!

Because he had seen an anomaly—especially one connected to his best friend—he couldn't stop worrying that it meant something terrible.

“Here. Take it.”

Hat Guy held the flowers out in front of Durin.

The subtle fragrance drifting from them immediately soothed his heart. Even more surprising, there weren't just one...

There were two!

“What? You don't want them?”

Durin almost missed taking the flowers because he had zoned out again, but fortunately, he caught himself in time.

“I do!”

Wanderer huffed. “Use them however you want,” he said in an indifferent tone before pointing toward the bench beneath the large tree a few meters away.

“I'll wait over there.”

“It will be quick!”

Durin's eyes sparkled with determination. He hurried toward the upper part of the village, where a woman named Annick lived. It was the place where the flowers he picked could be turned into custom perfumes.

He carefully divided the flowers into two sets, including the ones Wanderer had picked.

“Good choice!” Annick said enthusiastically as she looked over his selection. “It'll take about a few minutes to finish. Would you like to wait, or come back later to pick them up?”

Durin glanced toward the place where Wanderer was waiting before making his decision.

“I'll wait.”

After receiving his answer, Annick immediately got to work.

Meanwhile, Durin looked around for somewhere to sit. He paced back and forth, conflicted over whether he should return to Wanderer or simply stay near the perfumer's shop.

Maybe this was a good opportunity to step back and sort through his thoughts.

The magic ribbon was still stubbornly tied around his wrist. Durin had already tried removing it himself, but nothing worked. He concluded that only Alice could untie it.

Surprisingly, throughout their outing, Wanderer had never brought it up. Durin had caught him glancing at the ribbon once or twice, but since the man in the hat never said anything, Durin simply acted as if it had always been part of his outfit.

“Oh my…”

A familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Why do you look so gloomy, Little Durin?”

“Aunt Alice!”

Durin nearly shouted in relief.

“Aunt Alice, I have a question! I saw a string, but its color was—” The words spilled out all at once. Everything he had been keeping bottled up inside his chest came pouring out.

Finally, the source of his troubles had returned. For a moment, he almost wanted to cry. It felt like he had been trapped in the dark, questioning everything with no one there to answer him.

After all, this had all started because of Aunt Alice. Surely she would know something.

Durin quickly told her everything he had seen over the past two days, though he deliberately left out his friend's identity, just in case.

Alice first calmed him down before inviting him to sit together on a nearby bench.

From where they sat, Durin could still see the side of Wanderer's hat, partially hidden behind the large tree.

“A black string... I see.”

Alice nodded thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her cheek. After a moment of contemplation, she looked back at him with a faint smile.

“To tell you the truth,” she began, “this is new to me as well.”

Durin felt his heart sink.

Alice continued.

“You see, as the name 'Red String of Fate' suggests, people usually focus only on what the name tells them.” She shifted one leg over the other. “So anything that isn't red tends to be dismissed.”

A regretful sigh escaped her. “In all the years I've used it, I've never seen any string besides white or red. So I can't tell you whether this function was always there... or whether what you saw was an anomaly,” she admitted.

“After all,” she laughed lightly, “I've only used it a handful of times before tossing it aside~”

Alice clearly meant to lighten the mood. But Durin could only stare blankly at the ribbon around his wrist, as if it might somehow answer his questions.

The sound of the wind rustling through the leaves and turning the windmills quietly filled the silence.

Alice hummed to herself before speaking again.

“But, Durin... there is one more thing I forgot to tell you.”

Those words immediately caught his attention.

“Do you know what allows a red string to become connected?”

Durin tilted his head.

Come to think of it, Alice had never explained that part. She had only said that an unconnected red string meant two fated people had already met.

Then why were there two different kinds of red strings? It felt too inconvenient.

“…By getting to know each other?” he guessed.

“Almost correct!”

Alice smiled brightly.

“The actual answer is... by knowing each other's names.”

Something inside Durin stirred.

“You already know how deeply a name is tied to a person's fate, don't you?”

After all, Durin himself had experienced it.

He had needed the help of many people just to continue existing in this world, simply because he shared a name with another significant being.

“I wonder...” Alice closed her eyes. “If the ribbon's magic truly weaves together fates through a person's true name... then what would happen if someone didn't have a name?”

Durin suddenly felt his heartbeat quicken. For some reason, the warmth slowly drained from his hands. He instinctively clasped them together, trying to stop the faint trembling.

“That... can't be...” he whispered. “How can someone... not have a name?”

“It is more common than you think.” Alice quietly watched him. “Most eventually receive one as they go through life. But every now and then... there are exceptions.”

“…”

“What if, from the moment they were born, a higher being—a god, perhaps—declared, 'You shall have no name,' knowing that names bind one's fate?”

She paused.

“Would that person truly be free? Or… would it become another kind of shackle?”

The seriousness in Alice's voice made Durin unconsciously hold his breath. A chill slowly crept through him. He was slowly becoming aware with the implication of this story, but his mind refused to believe it.

“Aha—we're getting sidetracked!”

Her cheerful tone returned as if nothing had happened.

“Anyway, the ribbon only has one function we can actually confirm: knowing each other's names allows the strings to connect. As for everything else... we're only making educated guesses. After all,” she chuckled, “we can't exactly ask the creator ourselves~”

Alice gently patted Durin on the shoulder.

“As I told you before, don't look too deeply into what the ribbon shows. Who knows? Maybe it simply has a little bug in its calculations, and that's why you saw a black string. We really can't say~”

Even after Alice tried to reassure him, Durin remained silent.

The quiet was broken only when Annick called his name. His perfumes were finished. Durin quickly stood and collected the bottles. After thanking the perfumer, he returned to where Alice was still sitting on the bench.

He was just about to tell her that his friend was waiting for him when Alice asked one final question.

“Do you believe in bad endings, Durin?”

That had been his first assumption about the black string. But after hearing Alice's theory and thinking it through again...

Perhaps he had been mistaken.

“I don't know...”

Maybe it had nothing to do with the ribbon anymore, but one thing he was certain.

“If there truly is a bad ending... I'd like to prevent it.”

“Then do what you believe is right.” She met his eyes with a gentle smile. “Did you forget? Barbie once said that your very existence is something special. So... what are you afraid of?”

Durin fell silent. His gaze lowered to the two small bottles of perfume in his hands. After taking a quiet breath, he held out his left wrist.

“Aunt Alice... please untie the magic ribbon.”

“Hm~?” She smiled knowingly. “You don't need it anymore?”

“Yes.”

Durin nodded.

“I think I'll be fine without it.”

“Well said.”

The red ribbon that had remained tied around his wrist for the past two days was finally undone. A quiet sense of relief washed over him as he watched it come free.

He blinked a few times. The countless strings that had cluttered his vision disappeared one after another.

Such a thing had never been necessary for Durin in the first place. After all...

He already possessed his own blessing of fate weaving. The answer was simple.

If it doesn't connect... then tie it together yourself.

Whether the knot would last forever... Only the future could answer that. But Durin preferred living in the present. Just as his best friend had once said:

“Speculating about ‘what if’ has no meaning.”

Durin had made his decision a long time ago. It wouldn't change simply because he had gained the ability to see the strings of fate.

Taking a seat beside his best friend, he held out a small glass bottle that fit neatly in the palm of his hand. A label tied around its neck read: Homebound Wind.

“Here. This is for you.”

“Even though I said I don’t need it?”

“Yeah.” Durin nodded without hesitation. “It’s okay if you never use it. As long as you keep it, I’ll be happy.”

Before returning to Wanderer, Durin had sprayed a little of the perfume on himself to test the fragrance. He liked how it turned out, but now he worried he might have used too much.

“Sorry… is the scent too strong?”

“No,” Wanderer answered immediately. “It's... nice. It seems that whole hour you spent searching for flowers wasn't wasted.”

Durin was relieved to hear that.

Meanwhile, Wanderer quietly examined the bottle in his hand.

The silence gave Durin the courage to ask the question that had lingered in his heart ever since he noticed the melancholy hidden behind his friend's eyes.

“Hat Guy…”

Durin took a quiet breath.

“…Once your stay is over, where will you go next?”

It sounded like an ordinary question. Yet both of them knew the answer wouldn't simply be, "Back to Sumeru."

Wanderer lifted his gaze for only a moment, acknowledging the question with a quiet hum before looking back down at the bottle. He then leaned against the bench and turned his eyes toward the distant horizon.

“Somewhere… far from here.” He paused. “I have… something I need to do.”

“Can’t I come with you?”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“Then... you will visit again after you're finished, right?”

A brief silence followed.

“That's...” Wanderer lowered his head, letting the brim of his hat hide his expression. “...That's not something I can decide.”

Durin fell silent, he simply didn’t know what else to say. Should he keep pressing until Wanderer agreed to let him come?

He bit the inside of his lip, trying to suppress the thoughts that had begun resurfacing. He tried to hold it in, but they spilled out anyway.

“Are you going to do everything alone again?”

“…”

“When I couldn't stay tethered to this world... you searched for a solution all by yourself without even telling me.”

“That was because I thought it had something to do with my—”

Wanderer stopped midway, not even trying to make up the rest of it. There had to be something he couldn't bring himself to tell him.

Durin’s chest ached a little. The abrupt silence reminded him how little he knew about his best friend. His thoughts drifted back to the day Wanderer had accompanied him into his storybook. He still remembered the narrator's words.

The Stray Cat tore apart his own story and was forgotten by the world beyond the castle.

Durin had always wanted to ask him what those words truly meant. But... would Wanderer answer this time?

Wanderer had shared a little about his origin as another creation like himself—though Durin hadn't realized it at the time—before smoothly steering the conversation back toward him.

Wanderer had once told him not to lose heart if he ever strayed onto a dark path. Because at the very least, he had people around who would help him…

But the way Wanderer had said it, it sounded as if he was speaking from experience. If that was true…

Was it connected to this past he refused to speak about?

“You watched… and even became part of my story,” Durin whispered. “Yet I’m still missing so much of yours…”

“I did tell you part of it, didn’t I?”

“…And what happened after that?” Durin asked softly. “How did you ended up in Sumeru? I know you’ve written many papers about Inazuma… is that your hometown? And what was your relationship with the Doctor? You seemed to hate him so much back in Nod-Krai…”

Durin hesitated and held his breath.

“And also… would you tell me…“

Your true name…?

The question died in his throat.

Alice’s words resurfaced in his mind. He wasn't ready for the possibility that her theory might prove true the moment he heard the answer.

“That was quite a lot of questions.”

A dry laugh escaped Wanderer. He left his questions hanging, not even looking Durin in the eye. Honestly, it stung. Perhaps this really was the limit.

But before the silence could drag on any longer, Wanderer spoke again in the same calm and steady voice.

“Regarding the story of my life, it isn’t a simple matter. Let me tell you on a secret. Do you know why I’ve stayed in Sumeru all this time? Sure, I’m a scholar of the Akademiya, but besides that…”

Wanderer finally looked at him. A smile rested on his face, but it wasn't a gentle one. Instead, there was something almost sinister about it.

This was the first time Durin had seen that kind of expression from him.

“I am also a prisoner of Sumeru.”

Durin's pupils trembled at Wanderer's words. For a moment, he was completely at a loss for words, while Wanderer seemed to find his silence almost amusing as he continued.

“And the journey I’m about to take… is connected to mistakes I made long ago. They’re mine to settle, once and for all. So it isn't something you need to concern yourself with.”

He finished with nothing more than a casual shrug.

Durin dislike the way Hat Guy treated this matter as if it were something insignificant—whether to Durin or even to himself. More than that, there was one thing he needed to correct.

“But you stayed with me when I tried to make up for what happened in Simulanka.” His voice rose before he realized it. “So why can't I do the same for you?”

The frustration he had been holding back finally slipped through, and he didn’t stop there.

“I've never asked you to tell me everything, because I know it isn’t something simple. And I'm not trying to interfere if it's something you have to face yourself.” He clenched his fists. “But I just…” His teeth gritted together. “…want to be someone who's there when you finally look back.”

Wanderer held his gaze, silently waiting for Durin to finish everything he wanted to say. Gathering his breath, Durin continued.

“And I want to be a part of your present… and your future, I don’t want to leave you behind. Just as you flew to catch me when I fell, I want to do the same for you.”

His last words earned a scoff from Wanderer.

“You know... I already fell once. And perhaps it was only fitting that no one was there to catch me.”

“Then I won’t let it happen again.”

“…”

“I promise.”

“…”

After a moment of silence, Wanderer quietly mused, “Have you ever heard the story before… that if you make a promise with a puppet, it will never end well?”

The sharp look in his eyes almost made Durin flinch, but he held his ground.

“I’ve never heard that before,” he rebutted.

“Is that so?”

Wanderer looked away again, or rather, lowered his gaze to the perfume bottle still resting in his hand.

Durin watched as he slowly lifted it, blinking in surprise. He hadn't expected Wanderer to use it immediately.

A soft mist drifted into the air.

The fragrance spread with the freshness of wind after rain, carrying the gentle sweetness of blooming Windrest Flowers beneath it. A faint woody note lingered at the end, grounding the scent without overwhelming it.

As the breeze carried the fragrance toward him, Durin felt his heartbeat quicken. To his surprise, Wanderer's expression softened ever so slightly.

He knew the fragrance suited him perfectly. Durin found himself quietly enchanted by it, until Wanderer broke the silence.

“Is this what you thought of me?” he mused.

Heat slowly crept onto Durin's cheeks. He hadn't realized just how embarrassing his choice would sound until Wanderer said it aloud.

The man beside him let out a quiet chuckle.

“I suppose… this scent will become a reminder for me, for this moment.”

Honestly, Durin thoughts so too.

“…Very well,” Wanderer muttered at last.

“At the very least… perhaps I do need someone to accompany me when I visit my fri—” he corrected himself, “…My family’s resting place.”

When Wanderer turned toward him again, there was no trace of the sinister smile. Instead, it was the familiar, sincere expression Durin knew so well.

“Will you come with me, Durin?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Durin nodded.

“Yes!”

Relief finally spread through his chest.

The result might not come immediately. But the door had finally opened, and Wanderer had asked him to come along. From here onward, they could walk forward together, one step at a time.

That alone was enough.

“…By the way, you finally untied the ribbon.”

Durin’s eyes widened.

“You noticed?”

“Well, duh. It stood out like a sore thumb.” Hat Guy rolled his eyes. “The red was way too bright, it didn’t match the tone of your outfit at all. Black or silver would’ve been much better…” He ended it with a grumble.

Durin couldn’t help but laugh at his complaint.

Beside him, Wanderer shot him a puzzled glance, clearly questioning what was so funny.

“Yeah,” Durin admitted between soft laughs. “I should've taken it off sooner. It didn't suit me at all. Maybe a blue one would've been better.”

“That would’ve been worse.”

“Hahaha!”

High atop the edge of the cliff, someone wearing a hollow-brimmed hat stood with an easy posture. Around her wrist, a bright red ribbon was tied into a neat bow.

The merry-witch quietly watched the two figures walking side by side below.

Between them stretched a red string and a black string.

It wasn’t connected in a way that one string tied to two people.

Instead, the red string had tied itself around the black one with a small bow.

It was a fragile one, a single tug would be enough to undo it.

Yet the merry-witch believed those two would simply tie it back together again, every single time.

A quiet chuckle was carried away by the wind.

“Look at you… already writing your own happy ending.”

—fin