Chapter Text
“How has realizing your ideals gone for you?”
Alhaitham looks at Kaveh up close for the first time in four years. The architect is a drunken wreck, and he gets loud when he’s wine-drunk. It would’ve been harder not to hear that Kaveh has found himself homeless and bankrupt. Alhaitham doesn’t need further context. It’s been four years, but he can guess exactly how it happened.
Kaveh finally looks up at him, and rubs his drooping eyes like he isn’t sure if he’s imagining Alhaitham there. And then, he cries.
Alhaitham sits opposite him at the table and waits for him to collect himself. He’s never been a person for comfort, and history shows that he’s no good at talking to Kaveh when he’s emotional anyways. No use trying, even if Kaveh surely is thinking how this is just another display of cold uncaring.
“I don’t have anywhere to go,” Kaveh finally says, tears drying out. “I sold my parents’ house, gave up my entire savings. And I– archons, I don’t have friends I can call.”
Alhaitham orders Kaveh a glass of water.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?!” Kaveh pleads, fresh tears threatening to spill.
Alhaitham continues to say nothing. Kaveh may be wanting a fight, or comfort, or a scolding – none of these are things Alhaitham has any interest in giving.
Kaveh decides to stop talking as well, and he drinks the water that’s brought to him. Once he’s done, Alhaitham pays the bill and stands from the table. He starts to leave, and then turns to look over his shoulder.
“Are you coming?”
Kaveh trails after him like a stray puppy, through the streets of Sumeru City, until they reach Alhaitham’s home. They sit in the living room, silence thick and tense over them.
“Why won’t you say anything?” Kaveh asks.
“What do you want for me to say? I told you so? How do you respond to someone who has spent four years avoiding you, now begging for you to let them live with you?”
Kaveh flinches.
“To live with you, in a house that could have been half theirs. Which they refused, and didn’t even have the decency to offer that refusal in person.”
“Alhaitham–”
“I don’t care,” he interrupts. “You might want me to say it, but I’m not going to tell you things you already know. You’re the one who left without a word.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care.”
“Of course not.”
The silence returns, heavier than before.
“You’re not going to stay here for free,” Alhaitham says finally. “Your name isn’t on the deed anymore. This is my house. You will pay me rent, as your landlord.”
“Fine,” Kaveh mumbles, defeated.
“Fine.” Alhaitham stands from the divan. “Your side of the house is that way. There’s a spare bedroom.”
Kaveh’s mother sets out for Fontaine for good shortly after his twentieth birthday, to start her new life. To be free of the grief that haunts this now-empty house. Kaveh can’t blame her. She stayed as long as she needed to, and she didn’t deserve to keep suffering. He doesn’t want to be in this house anymore either.
It was a long time coming. Over the last decade, she spent more and more time there, and she was a brilliant architect. Kaveh wasn’t surprised that she got a job offer – he wishes her the best. He’s an adult now, after all. He can care for himself. It’s just… lonely.
So, he spends his time in the House of Daena. When he’s not in class, he studies, reads, and helps underclassmen with their work when they need it. He only goes home to sleep, and on lonelier days, to eat. It’s just enough to feel somewhat normal.
It’s one such day where he doesn’t have much of his own work to do, so he looks for other students who may need a hand, or just some company. And that’s where Kaveh first sees him: an unfamiliar face with ash blond hair, sitting alone at a table further away from the rest. He must be new, Kaveh thinks, making his way over.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
The guy glances up, looking around as if questioning why Kaveh had addressed him specifically.
“Fine,” he settles on, then turns back to his notes.
Alright, so he’s not a talker. Still, having company never hurts, Kaveh can work silently! He could always go back over some of his own notes.
“Do you mind if I sit here?”
The other guy’s pencil stills over the paper. He looks up again, at plenty of tables either empty or full of people who are chatting. Then, he looks back at Kaveh and shrugs.
“Fine.”
Wow. A man of many words, Kaveh can see.
He sits down across the table and brings out his own notebook. The pair work in silence until the evening, and then, the other guy leaves without another word.
Maybe he’s shy, Kaveh wonders, before packing up his own things to leave as well.
The next day, Kaveh sees him again, still alone, still at that same table. This time, when Kaveh approaches, the other guy moves some of his stuff out of the way without looking up. Well, that seems like enough of an invitation, he thinks. Kaveh matches energy, going into his own studies without a word.
After a couple of hours, Kaveh decides that it won’t hurt to introduce himself.
“My name’s Kaveh, by the way. I’m a student from Kshahrewar! I’m hoping to graduate within the next two or three years.”
The other guy looks up with a barely audible sigh.
“I’m Alhaitham. Haravatat. I just started here last month.”
“I hope you’ve had a good first month! Adjusting to the Akademiya pace can be brutal when you start as an adult, so if you need anything!”
Alhaitham hums, then turns back to his notebook.
Maybe he’s not shy… maybe he’s just quiet?
Kaveh started at the Akademiya when he was eight, just a year and a half after his father’s death. An unintended side effect of this was leaving his grieving mother alone for extended periods of time. It was by the time he was ten that she began taking trips to Fontaine. Kaveh missed her when she was gone, but… it seemed to ease her pain.
He’s met a great deal of people these last ten years, but he’s not sure how many he’d truly call friends. Acquaintances, trustworthy research partners, a few flings… but when he goes home at the end of most days, it’s alone.
It wasn’t so harsh when he knew that his mother might come back in a day or two. But now, it’s… certainly different.
He lays in bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s been a month, and his mother hasn’t written him. Kaveh has a feeling she may never write. It’s what he deserves. He’s the reason his father went off to the Interdarshan Championship, and then, his father never returned. He can’t blame his mother for leaving him alone. It’s what he deserves.
Kaveh doesn’t get much sleep, but studies must continue. So, he does his best to look alive, practices his smile, and sets out for his classes.
He’s barely awake for taking notes, but he’s practiced at not letting it show. Kaveh writes notes in a shorthand only he’d be able to decipher, and hopes that after some coffee, he’ll be able to turn them into proper notes.
A quick trip to the café, then it’s back to the House of Daena.
Kaveh drinks his coffee fast on the way back, hoping it might hit his brain by the time he arrives. It’s… mildly successful. Nothing he hasn’t dealt with before, at the very least.
Out of newly formed habit, he goes to the furthest table to begin his work. It takes him a moment to realize that Alhaitham is nowhere to be found. Most likely, the younger man is still in class. Kaveh doesn’t dwell on it much.
He starts parsing through his rough notes, and slowly gets into a routine. Rewriting notes can be such a grounding task. The exhaustion melts away as his brain focuses, and soon, his notes expand to three pages. He’s so zoned in on the task at hand that he doesn’t notice someone walking over until they’ve dropped a book onto the table.
Kaveh looks up, startled, and Alhaitham sits across from him. Other than the unnecessary drop of the book, there’s no hello, no how are you today, none of that. But Alhaitham glances up at Kaveh and gives a little nod, then proceeds to get into his own work.
At this time of day on a Thursday, the House of Daena was rather empty. Alhaitham could have chosen an empty table to work at, as he had in the beginning. But just four days in, and it seems Kaveh may have already gained some friendship points with him. Or perhaps he’d just become part of Alhaitham’s routine as well.
Either way, there’s something comforting about it. Kaveh doesn’t think about it much until he’s on his way home, contemplating the feeling. He’s brought back to his childhood, sitting around a table with his parents, all silently working together on a puzzle.
Oh, dear. He can’t go and attach himself to some poor underclassmen just because that underclassmen is the closest thing to the feeling of home that he’s had in years.
After three weeks of silent co-working, something changes.
Kaveh gets to the House of Daena first, as usual for a Thursday. When Alhaitham gets there, he doesn’t drop his book to announce his presence. Instead, he opts for:
“Hey.”
To be honest, Kaveh had kind of forgotten what Alhaitham’s voice even sounded like from their first two brief exchanges.
“Oh, uh– hey, Alhaitham. How’s it going?”
Alhaitham sits down and opens his notebook. “Fine.” And then, after a beat, “You?”
Kaveh can’t be sure, but he thinks this means they’re friends now.
“Tired,” he admits, because that’s neutral enough, but still honest. Alhaitham doesn’t seem like a guy who’d appreciate small talk that wasn’t at least honest. “All my classes are before noon on Thursdays.”
Alhaitham hums. “That sucks, I guess.”
Four words in a row, that’s got to be a record.
“Yeah… but it’s not too bad, really. I love my studies, at the end of the day. I’m studying to be an architect.”
Alhaitham nods. “I had gathered as much.”
“But we never talk?”
“Your notes,” Alhaitham says, gesturing at the array of textbooks and notebooks and flashcards on Kaveh’s side of the table. “They’re not exactly Sumeru’s most hidden treasure.”
“What are you studying to be?” Kaveh asks, discreetly neatening up his mess.
Alhaitham shrugs. “Something that pays the bills and doesn’t make me wish I was dead.”
That’s… blunt. Simple. But respectable, in a way.
“Fair enough,” Kaveh laughs. “What made you want to talk to me today of all days?”
Alhaitham shrugs again. “It’s not terribly different from not talking to you.”
Kaveh isn’t sure if that’s an insult or not. He doesn’t really mind.
From there, it flows. Small conversations every day quickly turn into deeper ones, talking about their studies and the things they’ve learned and the things they feel they may know better than their teachers. It’s wonderful, and also confusing. Kaveh wasn’t expecting someone who’s only looking to “pay the bills” and “not wish they were dead” to actually be a genius in their field. But there was Alhaitham, unambitious yet not stagnant either.
“If you’re a genius, why weren’t you enrolled in the Akademiya sooner?” Kaveh asks him once.
“I sat in on some classes, but they were boring,” Alhaitham replies simply. “So instead, I was homeschooled.”
Homeschooled. Of course Alhaitham would have taken a non-traditional route.
“But now it’s less boring?” Kaveh prompts.
“…An adult has a better attention span than a ten-year-old, don’t you think?”
“So it is still boring,” Kaveh laughs. “It’s okay, I won’t tell your teachers that you feel that way.”
“I prefer reading to learn, over listening to someone who thinks that they know everything explain it. Not boring, just annoying.”
“So… why did you decide to enroll?” Kaveh asks, cheek propped up on his hand.
“…” Alhaitham frowns, like that’s a difficult question to answer for him. “Most well-paying jobs are locked behind higher education, aren’t they?”
Kaveh thinks it might be deeper than that, but he doesn’t press the matter. He’s learned that Alhaitham doesn’t say anything that he doesn’t want to say, and certainly won’t answer a question if he doesn’t actually know the answer. And then, Kaveh feels something warm and fond in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he’s talked to someone enough to pick up on their mannerisms like this.
Yeah. They’re definitely friends now.