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“Sir, I wanted to get your opinion on the current state of affairs in Inazuma.” You stood somewhat anxiously in Al-Haitham’s office, the bright sunlight from the window making your nervous flush even more apparent. A quick glance around the room showed little change from your last visit, save for the slight increase in the height of some of his plants and the shift of papers and books on his desk.
The man in question was seated behind it, hands clasped in front of his face as his aquamarine gaze met yours. Despite being the head of the Akademiya, it wasn’t uncommon for researchers to seek his insight and guidance on their research and studies. You were no different; it was expected that Al-Haitham would be aware of events all across Teyvat, and you simply wanted to take advantage of a wise opinion like his.
“What kind of opinion are you asking for? Or rather, what would you like me to give an opinion on?” His smooth voice was patient and calm, choosing to let the answers to his questions come naturally from the other person rather than forcing them out; although he was known to do that as well given the right occasion.
You shifted on your feet, not entirely comfortable despite your many visits to his office. Swallowing thickly, you spoke in what you hoped was a confident voice. “Well, during my research I found conflicting opinions on the true meaning of the Raiden Shogun’s vision of eternity, and I wanted to know what you thought of it.”
Taking a chance at actually meeting his eyes rather than looking between them, you felt as if something flashed in them before he removed his hands and stood from the desk, walking over to the window. The view outside was very picturesque of Sumeru; the seemingly endless desert that stretched for miles and the blazing heat of the sun.
Al-Haitham said nothing for a moment, simply observing the scenery and letting the dry breeze ruffle his cape and the ends of his hair. You watched him with a mix of admiration and apprehension, worrying your bottom lip over what his answer might be. When he finally spoke, you paid rapt attention to his words.
“Each archon holds their values close to their hearts and single-mindedly chases the personification of that value, in whatever form they see to be most fitting. In my opinion, I found the eternity chosen by the Raiden Shogun most peculiar. I don’t believe it is a true interpretation of what eternity is, but it could never be my place to voice my opinions to her.” He sighed somewhat exasperatedly as if he really imagined speaking to the Raiden Shogun about eternity.
You nodded in understanding, jotting down mental notes. “If I may ask sir, what do you think eternity is?” He didn’t turn around, but you could almost see his raised eyebrow anyway. “My definition?” It seemed he hadn’t expected to be asked directly about his personal conclusions. “I believe eternity to be nothing more than a curse. There is great pain that comes with longevity, whether material or spiritual. Nothing in this world was truly designed for forever, and to chase after eternity is a foolish endeavor that mortals have no understanding of.”
By this point he’d turned around, eyes blazing a bit brighter than they had when you’d walked in, but you chalked it up to him getting passionate about teaching. He was known to only truly express emotion when he was invested in discussion, hence his obvious engagement as a bearer of knowledge at the most prestigious learning center in Teyvat. He moved to stand in front of her, peering down good-naturedly. “Was that a sufficient answer, Miss [NAME]?”
Something about being able to see the tinge of salmon ringing his pupils and being close enough to feel the airiness of his voice made your flush return, and you nodded quickly at his question. “T-that was enough, thank you, sir! H-have a good day!” With that hurried farewell, you bowed and walked out of the room, face surely still flaming.
After a few months, your research on the Inazuman archon had some interesting developments to add to it, and you found yourself spending more and more time reading news from other nations than spending time in the Akademiya’s extensive library. The news detailed the appearance of the mysterious traveler in Inazuma. Everyone knew so much and so little about the traveler that you found yourself searching more thoroughly for information on her.
And you happened to find plenty, seeing as the traveler was on a quest to meet all the archons and was thus traveling to every nation. Accounts of her feats in Mondstadt and Liyue were well-known, and already the hearsay about what she was doing in Inazuma was sounding impressive.
You had discussed with your peers about the traveler, but most people had shown a relative disinterest in her and the prospect of her involvement in Sumeru. There were a select few who held strong opinions on the traveler, whether it be praise or scorn directed towards her. They believed she was either something akin to a god or a cursed being and would change Teyvat. For better or worse varied depending on the person.
Personally, you thought the traveler was interesting. Lumine, she was called. A pretty name, very light and elegant, and thoroughly unheard of in any nation of Teyvat. Her talents were commendable and worth studying on their own, but it was her impact on each nation that she’d seen so far which made her interesting to you.
Your study was on the powers of the current archons and how they reflected the values of the nations they ruled over. Lumine had played a very important part in each nation, and thus you were willing to extend your study to include her encounters with the archons and how that affected their representation of their nation.
It turned out that Haitham was an excellent source of information for your research, and also a good sounding board for bouncing off ideas and sharing opinions. He had very pronounced views on the world, and he would often quote intellectual friends of his from other nations. You found yourself seeking him out more and more as you encountered contradictions or vague claims in the books you found and the news you read, and he was more than willing to patiently explain the facts and make sense of the information to you.
Eventually, your visits to his office became so frequent that he asked you to stop knocking. After all, “you’re the only one who comes to see me [NAME], I don’t think you need to waste time by knocking and waiting for me.” There had been a hint of a teasing smirk on his face when he’d told you that, and you were so shocked and touched by the familiarity that you didn’t know what to say. He’d also asked for you to stop calling him sir, mainly because he found the title stuffy and it made him feel old.
“But, sir-I mean, Haitham, isn’t that a bit bold of me, since I’m just a researcher here?” The informality of addressing him by name made your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but the knowledge that he regarded you as a closer acquaintance only added to your reddening face. He laughed softly at your expression. “[NAME], I have never believed that position or age should ever determine one’s relationships. Bonds are built through emotions and intellectual connections, not material things like status. It makes no difference to me whether you’re Lesser Lord Kusanali herself or a humble researcher at the Akademiya: I value our discussions and your personality very much.”
The smile he gave you was so genuine and heartfelt that you could hardly believe it was Haitham with that expression, given how calm and indifferent he normally looked. You found yourself remembering that conversation more and more when you were supposed to be analyzing ancient texts telling tales about the pyro archon or when you were trying to deconstruct lyrics about the anemo archon.
Haitham became a constant in your mind that had little to do with his input on your study and more to do with the smooth tone of his voice and the elegant movements of his hands as he wrote things down for you. You would find yourself spacing out more often and imagining spending time with Haitham that was completely unrelated to the hours you spent talking about the archons in his office.
It was not until you’d finally submitted your initial paper on your study that the realization hit you. No one thought about another person this much for no reason, nor did they find themselves obsessing over little things about that person for no reason. The only logical explanation left was that you must have feelings for him.
The realization made your heart flutter, everything falling into place as you recounted the various moments you’d had with him that all made sense once you understood you liked him. The sheer joy you felt at coming to terms with that was quickly shattered by the reality of the situation: he could never return those feelings. After all, what were you to him? At best, a friend with whom he enjoyed sharing intellectual conversations. At worst, a researcher he pitied whom he decided to help out a bit. While the former you could live with, you had to remind yourself that he had explicitly told you he valued your company and your conversations.
For now, you decided it was enough to simply be able to spend time with him and be near him, if only for the sake of your research. Your study was almost done, and you were in the midst of drafting your final paper. Your visits to Haitham’s office were less frequent as you had most of the information you needed, but you would find notes from him asking you thoughtful questions that kept you coming back to discuss.
“I think his actions were very rash, and even if it was to test Liyue’s strength, it was a very risky gamble he took when he involved the Fatui.” Your eyes gleamed as you spoke, your passion evident through your speech. You were seated across from Haitham in the little couch setting he had towards the front of his office. It was usually reserved for serious meetings with other staff or researchers, but the two of you had quickly taken up residence in the seats as the location of your amicable discussions.
“I don’t disagree with you, but I believe you’re not taking into account the fact that he is the archon. He has thousands of years of experience in making negotiations and in the strategic nuances of conflict, suffice to say it is enough experience to deem his actions justifiable. He knew what he was doing, and he did what he saw was best for his people.” Haitham was leaning forward in his chair as he spoke, his thin hands gesticulating gracefully in front of him. You frowned once he finished.
“I don’t think this is a fair topic, we both are on the opposite ends of the spectrum and refuse to reach a conclusion that satisfies us both. That’s not fair, Haitham!” You huff and take a sip of the tea he’d served you upon your arrival and cross your arms, annoyed that he’d let this go on for the past thirty or so minutes. He only grins widely, seconds away from laughing at how cute your face is when you’re annoyed.
“Come now, [NAME], it was fun. Don’t you think your debating skills have improved immensely since we started having these discussions? I think you’ve gotten quite talented at thinking on your feet.” Despite initially wanting to rile you up a bit more, he ends up turning it into a sincere compliment, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, if your sudden blush is anything to go by.
“I suppose I have gotten better at it, but it’s still annoying when you come up with topics like this! I think we should take turns so that it’s fairer and I get a chance to give you a prompt!” You got so passionate about the fairness of it all that you were standing up, hands on your hips, ready to argue. Something about the sight made Haitham’s chest ache, and he stood up to be more level with you, leaning over the table to meet your eyes.
“By all means, [NAME], be my guest.”