five days at war | genshin impact | gorou & kazuha

before and after

To die in battle is a tragic honor. The rebels of the resistance, the soldiers of the Shogun's army, and even the wandering samurai know this, at the very least. To die in battle is to die for something larger than oneself—to die as one's bravest, strongest, most eminent self. Though many soldiers are forgotten in unlabeled graves, their battles and battlefields are remembered. 

Those who die off the battlefield rarely share the same honor. So when members of the resistance begin greying and wilting, their skin sagging and bones creaking, Gorou's heart begins sinking. The resistance will do their best to remember the fallen, but with their numbers shriveling up and dying of old age, they do not have the luxury of spending much time on memory. 

The traveler takes it hard. It has only been a matter of days since his arrival in the resistance, and yet his expression contorts into something painful and heartrending as he speaks to Teppei. Her Excellency asks the soldier's condition—likely more out of courtesy than anything else; surely, like Gorou, she knows from the tightness around the traveler's eyes that there is no hope. The traveler runs off after the Fatui, sprinting towards danger without a second thought, and Gorou realizes for the first time that the rumors and stories about his ability and power may be true. Her Excellency leaves Gorou in charge, and he is alone once more. 

A breeze tickles his ears, skating across the tufts at the tip, and he looks around. Gorou knows only one person so deft with the wind. 

"The tide turns not in our favor," Kazuha says as he approaches. The slight frown that adorns his face looks out of place; Gorou doesn't like it. Those lips are meant to curl knowingly, or peacefully, or gently—this frowning thing is most unsightly. 

"We'll push forward," Gorou replies, his voice coming out almost as it does on the battlefield. "We recoup, redistribute, and make new plans. The fight is far from over, even with—"

And then Kazuha laughs. He laughs, and Gorou stares. 

"Do you think I'm wrong?" Gorou asks, voice as incredulous as it has ever been while directed at the samurai. "We still have a chance."

"Sure," Kazuha muses, and there is not the slightest note of insincerity in his voice. "I merely mean to express the absurd nature of our dilemma. After all, who among us is prepared to fight a war on two fronts? Certainly not Her Excellency." 

"Her Excellency is a brilliant strategist—she's brought us this far, and I trust her abilities," Gorou argues, but his voice falters, wavering the tiniest bit on the last few words.

Kazuha raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. 

"It's—" Gorou begins, huffing out a short sigh and tugging his fingers gently through his hair. "I don't understand how the Fatui could trick her. She's brilliant. The only reason we've gotten this far is because she predicts and prepares for everything. She always knows what to do, even—especially—when I don't."

"I could help you compose a serenade to express this, you know," Kazuha offers, and Gorou can't decide whether he'd rather punch or hug him. 

"I am expressing respect, not love. Or at least, not like that. The resistance is—"

Kazuha laughs again, a hand coming up to gesture lazily in the direction of Gorou's face. "Red as an apple," he comments, and only then does Gorou become aware of the heat rising in his cheeks.

Before he can speak, Kazuha's laughter trails off, and a calm air settles around his shoulders. "Her Excellency is all of those things, but she can be too focused on her goals," he explains. With a deep breath, he continues, voice growing airy and poetic. "Desperation for victory eclipses sense and strategy."