Chapter Text
One thing that Freminet was— was antisocial. He was nothing more than an awkward blubber beast when he tried to talk to strangers, and even his family. He was nothing more than a bad brother, a mediocre diver. Freminet was nothing more than— no, he was just nothing. Out of his siblings— the ones he counted as true siblings at least— he knew deep in his heart that no one would actively choose the younger brother. The one who was so lanky that he looked unnaturally stretched out, the one who covered one of their eyes because he could swear one was uneven, the one who muttered and talked to a mechanical penguin for moral support. Who would pick someone like that to talk to? Let alone make a bond with him.
Yet Lyney— oh so sociable, well-adjusted Lyney, still looked at his brother with a mix of pity and hope in his eyes, which should’ve never been wasted on Freminet’s grimace of a face.
“You need a friend,” Lyney had stated.
“He’ll be good for you.”
“He’s the perfect buddy for you, dear brother.”
Mailing address in hand, Freminet couldn’t believe what his brother had set up for him. “A penpal? You’re giving me… a penpal?”
“Actually, Lynette and I decided to give it a more fitting name. A penguin-pal! Trust us, both of us met him, and he’s the perfect candidate. He’s another performer, you know.”
Freminet had to spend some time diving after that. It was a little mortifying to believe that his own adoptive family thought his loneliness was so severe that to would go out searching for a suitable friend for him, as if he were no more than a child… Yet, despite himself, Freminet couldn’t resist, even if this “penguin-pal” was a setup, he couldn’t help his curiosity being piqued in the wake of reading the first letter sent to him. The writing was scrappy, casual, and delightfully simple. It was written in Liyue’s script, which Freminet, oddly enough, was familiar with. Before he had gone and fallen in love with diving, he had tried out learning different languages. As most interests led him, Freminet had no normal, casual interest in anything he liked and learned… and eventually, he had grown fluent in not only Fontainian— but Liyue and Sumeru’s language as well. Freminet couldn't care less about learning about any more languages now that he had diving and the Fatui to focus on, but he still refreshed his knowledge by reading fairy tales in their scripts. It was a delight to see handwritten, casual Liyue writing like this.
Hi!
I heard from your brother, you’re Freminet.
The first letter, short and sweet, spoke to him in a friendly tone— one that was so obvious that Freminet could catch it.
I'm so happy to have you as a new pen pal. Or penguin pal! Haha. I’ve never had one before.
Anyway, I’m Gaming! I’m a Wushou dancer from Liyue.
And Freminet couldn’t resist writing back.
Father, after hearing of the twins’ little scheme, warned the boy of the dangers of getting close to ones outside the Fatui. Freminet could understand the sentiment; logically, any friendship would either dissipate and go nowhere or lead to the horrible realization that he was part of the fatui. Yet… Freminet couldn’t help it. The allure of having someone as secretive and personal as the delicate pendant of his mother’s. The letters, the small gifts sent in the boxes the letters came from, it was a world he could understand. Suddenly, through writing, Freminet wasn’t scared to socialize anymore. Father, almost kindly, had not stopped Freminet from indulging in the letters he passed to Gaming.
Gifts from Liyue suddenly littered Freminet’s room, and every single time Freminet got a little trinket in the form of a handmade bracelet or a slightly cracked starconch, he would hurry out to anxiously find something to send back. With the “penguin-pal” letters, Freminet went into the ocean more, not as a mere escape, but a place to explore and find a trinket to share.
After a couple, pitifully exciting weeks of waiting for letters and receiving them, it finally dawned on Freminet that he didn’t know what Gaming looked like. Freminet wasn’t left wondering, though.
Dear Freminet,
I got a gift from my good friend Xingqiu: a kamera! I hope you enjoy the pictures of my last performance.
I also made some candies with Xiangling for you, but they might not be good. I’m no cook! I hope you visit one day so you can see me in full action.
—Gaming.
And there he was. It wasn’t the greatest picture; it was a little blurry and definitely taken by a person who wasn’t too trained on getting angles or lighting, but he was there. The first thing that drew Freminet’s attention was Gaming’s lion mask. He had heard of it and even had gotten a crudely drawn version of it from him, but nothing matched its exciting form and wild elegance as it had in the picture. He couldn’t imagine the wonderful, star-striking dances that Gaming could probably achieve with such an illusion, as even in a still frame, Freminet found it beautiful. He could also see the zooming line of Gaming’s pet, Man Chai, under his owner’s feet. Freminet theorized, just on how close he was to Gaming’s legs, that he probably tripped up his dance a little, but he knew that Gaming was most likely adaptable enough to make it into his dance. Still, little could break down Freminet’s pure study of Gaming himself. Smiling, eyes wide and wild but still friendly, a man in action, like how a well-respected hero would be posed in a storybook as they fought the big bad. His dark hair with red tips matched seamlessly with the dark green undertones of his hoodie. Freminet could catch that he had a mole or two delicately placed on his neck like a kiss, contrasting with the overall roughness of Gaming’s appearance. He was well-built; healthy muscles were a requirement for both his dance and work as a guard.
Oh archons. Freminet had to look away, covering Pers’s eyes as if he too could see Gaming’s photograph. He was gorgeous. Unfairly so.
It took a couple of days for Freminet to look at the letters the same as he did, and still… he struggled to maintain his facade of normalcy in his letters. It was hard to stomach that Freminet was not just writing letters to a disembodied responder, but a handsome Liyuean who had decided to start calling him “Fremmy” in his letters. Still, Freminet couldn’t help but consider Gaming a close friend, as close as he was to the likes of Pers and his other imaginary companions.
It was only when Freminet had fully gotten back to a flow of written conversation before Gaming had again caught him off guard.
Freminet spat out his tea.
Lynette flinched, and Lyney yelped. “What was that for?”
“Gaming…” Freminet blinked at the heartfelt letter, feeling both elation and horror mixed into a horrible concoction in his chest. “Gaming wants to meet me.”
After a moment, Lynette went back to being slumped into her usual chair with a huff of unamusement, Lyney shrugging in apathy. “Oh… well, is that a bad thing?”
Freminet could’ve screamed— he did scream, but grabbed his helmet and placed it on his head to muffle it. This was the worst and best letter of his life.
On the positive side, Lyney had tried— letters from afar could only do so much bonding, and after months of being pen pals— and later “best friends” as Gaming had suddenly claimed in his letters, it was only fair that Gaming would’ve wanted to see more of him. Freminet had successfully befriended a person and had, mostly independently of support, gotten a best friend out of the exchange. But Freminet could only focus on the many, many negatives of this. For one, Freminet had gone much too far for poor Gaming and him to handle. Getting all attached to someone, not only out of the Fatui and out of Fontaine, was one of the worst ideas that Freminet’s feeble emotions had him do; Freminet could barely talk to anyone without slipping up and saying something inappropriate; Freminet could say something rude and completely shatter the mood; he could laugh a weird way, like he often did; Freminet would definitely make a fool of himself in front of Gaming’s friends; he was so unsightly compared to Gaming as well; not to mention mechanical moving, ugly, lanky, smelt like fish, did he mention ugly? And— he needed to get to the ocean.
“Freminet, oh my archons… wait!”
Freminet was already off running to his sea base for the night.