Bang...
As the door closed, Elliot and Kazuha exchanged glances and let out a deep sigh of relief.
The sheer social embarrassment of the moment completely wiped out Kazuha's earlier anger and sapped his will to move. With a helpless expression, he lay down on the bed.
"Well... should we sleep?" Elliot asked.
"Mm."
Elliot turned off the lights and sat cross-legged on the floor.
"You're not sleeping?"
"Later."
"Alright."
In such a quiet environment, Elliot's Meditation Mantra became much more effective.
So nighttime meditation was always a case of getting twice the result with half the effort.
...
"The long night drags on... hard to sleep."
The stillness was broken by a quiet voice.
"What, you want me to lull you to sleep?" Elliot joked, sensing his meditation was nearly finished.
"I was just thinking about something."
"What is it?" he asked.
"Why are you so optimistic?"
Elliot paused, clearly puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"I can hear the voice in your heart—just like I hear the wind. Your heart is already riddled with wounds. So how can you still smile?"
Elliot fell silent at Kazuha's words.
Kazuha wasn't impatient. He simply waited quietly for an answer.
If none came, silence itself would be one.
"You can't let the past interfere with the present."
"Besides, people have to look forward." Elliot replied with a smile.
"Elliot."
"Yeah?"
"I asked why you can still smile."
"..."
A long silence.
"Maybe..."
"If you wear a mask long enough, you just can't take it off anymore."
Elliot reached up and touched the corners of his smiling face as he answered.
"Aren't you tired?" Kazuha asked.
"I've gotten used to it."
"Why not take it off?"
"It's not time yet."
"I see..." Kazuha paused, then turned over in bed. "Well, get some rest."
"Mm."
Kazuha thought Elliot was the most unique person he'd ever met.
He had never heard an inner voice so complex.
Under all that grief, Elliot's wish was as insignificant as a grain of sand in the ocean.
Anyone else would've long since collapsed—forget smiling, even functioning normally would be a miracle.
Of course, Kazuha didn't know what Elliot had been through.
Family, lovers, brothers, cherished disciples...
They'd all left, one after another.
Each departure left another crack in his soul.
If only the gaps between each reincarnation were longer, maybe the erosion would lessen with time.
But...
Reincarnation was unending.
One after another.
Before one life's emotions had even faded, the next had already begun.
It left him no time to breathe.
...
The next morning, Elliot and Kazuha bid farewell to the kind-hearted hosts and resumed their journey.
The path of a ronin has no destination—just walk wherever your feet take you.
They ventured into the forest and filled their stomachs with wild berries they found along the way.
The journey was lighthearted and easy.
"Treading on red leaves deep in the mountains, the cry of deer echoes in my ears." Kazuha recited off the top of his head.
"Wild bamboo parts the misty green; flying streams hang from jade peaks." Elliot followed up seamlessly.
Hearing that, Kazuha's eyes lit up with admiration.
"What beautiful lines! I didn't expect you to have such poetic talent."
"It's not mine. A poet from my homeland wrote it," Elliot replied modestly.
"Oh? For such elegant verse, that man must love wine and freedom."
"Hah... you got that right," Elliot laughed, a bit surprised.
"Really now? What's his name? If I ever get the chance, I'd love to share a drink with him."
"Afraid that won't be easy... I can't even find him myself," Elliot said with a sigh.
"Well, at least you know his name, right?"
"Li Bai. The poem's called Visiting the Taoist Priest at Mount Tianshan and Not Finding Him."
"Never heard of him," Kazuha nodded thoughtfully.
"Do all you poetry types love drinking that much?"
Elliot suddenly remembered—there was a certain lazy drunk in Mondstadt who was also a brilliant poet.
Kazuha being an Anemo user made perfect sense.
After all, those two were pretty alike.
"Drinking and reciting poetry—it's romantic, isn't it?"
"I prefer tea," Elliot said, bearing a surprising resemblance to Zhongli.
No love for wine, only tea.
"Anyway, how about a spar?"
Elliot suddenly remembered he had planned to test sword skills with Kazuha.
"But you don't have a sword."
"That's easy."
He stopped walking and scanned the trees nearby.
Soon, he found two sturdy, straight branches of similar size and used Kazuha's blade to cut them down.
Roughly the length of a sword, and surprisingly well-balanced.
"Not bad. This should work." Kazuha weighed the branch in his hand and found it quite acceptable.
With that, the two began sparring with wooden sticks.
Elliot didn't think his sword skills were bad, but once they clashed, he quickly realized that memory loss had impacted him far more than he'd expected.
Though he was under constant pressure, he refused to go down easily.
"Did you only learn how to defend? No offense at all?" Kazuha's strikes came fast and relentless, like a whirlwind.
Normally he looked like an easygoing young man—but once in battle, he exuded a fierce intensity.
After holding out for over ten minutes, Elliot was finally defeated.
"Phew... I lost."
"Your swordplay is odd. I can feel your technique is impressive, but you can't seem to bring it out. Were you holding back?"
Kazuha sensed something clearly off during their bout.
"Of course. If I beat you too easily, it'd hurt your pride."
"Well, thanks for that," Kazuha muttered dryly.
Then again, with Elliot's personality, if he really were that strong, he probably would've flattened Kazuha and then laughed about it mercilessly.
"Have you heard of Raiden Shogun's Musou no Hitotachi?" Elliot asked.
"Yeah, I've heard of it. Why?"
Recalling his own earth-splitting Demonbane Slash, Elliot's lips curled into a grin.
"That technique... might not be as unreachable as people think."