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As with many days before, this day finds Rosaria perched upon a balcony, overlooking Mondstadt’s main plaza. Chattering merchants and birds alike provide Rosaria with neither new nor relevant information, though she won’t complain about that… Peace in Mondstadt allows her a little more free time, and she will never complain about not having to work for a night or two here and there.
Peace is perhaps a generous word, Rosaria realizes, as a rambunctious trio of kids trounces through the plaza: Bennett, Razor, and Fischl are evidently playing some sort of game. Fischl points around the plaza, the lilt of her voice unmistakable but also undecipherable at this distance, and Razor follows her command as Bennett doubles over in laughter.
Rosaria’s eyes linger on Razor. Their paths do not often cross; their relation is not one many people of Mondstadt are aware of, and Razor himself hadn’t known of their connection until Rosaria spelled it out for him. To say they share a father wouldn’t be quite correct, but… Varka is the closest either of them has to a human father, so it’s not entirely disingenuous.
Upon first meeting, Razor had called Rosaria an enemy. She hadn’t flinched at the time, and even now finds it rather unsurprising. Though he is no longer threatened by her, Rosaria knows—because Razor is not especially coy—that the boy finds her cold.
Which, quite frankly, needn’t change. However… As Rosaria watches him play with his friends in the plaza, she does feel a spark of warmth in her chest.
Hm.
Rosaria bites at the inside of her cheek. The word sister comes to mind. It is a word she hears often in reference to herself, being a Sister of the Church of Favonius, but it is not a word she has ever felt suited her.
Not until Razor did the word sister come to describe her from her own lips. Even so, the first time she had uttered it to Razor, it almost felt like a joke—who, besides a chatty codger like Varka, would consider Rosaria family?
Still, Razor took her words to heart. In hindsight, it was foolish of her to ever expect him not to take her seriously. That kid… She can’t help the grin that pulls at her mouth as she thinks of him—so sincere and protective.
As quickly as the trio had entered the plaza, though, they head elsewhere to continue their game, unaware of Rosaria watching from above.
—
When a church job is posted to gather Wolfhooks for medicine, Rosaria almost shocks herself at how quickly she volunteers. If anything, she just hopes it won’t cause the other Sisters to think she’s going to start doing more church work.
Though a fair amount of his time is spent with Lisa, Razor still can most often be found in Wolvendom. Rosaria is well aware of this. After all, if she wants to be a big sister, she should check up on her brother every now and again, shouldn’t she?
She treks to Wolvendom at dusk, easily eliminating a few encroaching hilichurl camps along the way. When she arrives, she carries a basket against her hip, leisurely plucking Wolfhooks from the ground as the sun sets over the hills.
It doesn’t take long for her to spot Razor, who peeks out from behind a tree, on alert but otherwise appearing in good health.
“Sister?” He seems to relax at the sight of her. (It is a change from their first meeting that does not go unnoticed.)
Razor is the only one to call her sister this way. Others of Mondstadt may feign reverence for their truant nun, Sister Rosaria… but Razor speaks in short, blunt sentences, hardly ever saying anything he doesn’t mean.
“You’re here,” he says, “For Wolfhooks?”
Rosaria smiles a little, reaching to ruffle his hair. “For medicine, yes. But also to see you.”
“To see me…?” Razor muses aloud.
“Mhm,” Rosaria hums, “You know, I saw you with your friends the other day.”
Razor thinks for a moment. “You saw, and didn’t join?”
Rosaria chuckles. “Right, I didn’t even say hello. Would you think I'm rude?”
“Not rude,” Razor answers, “Just… acting like sister. All alone. Why?”
“Lots of questions today,” Rosaria replies, “I could ask you the same, though. Why are you out here, all alone?”
“I’m not alone,” Razor answers quickly. “I have Lupical.”
“Ah, right. You’re protecting them, aren’t you?”
Razor nods.
“You’re a good kid,” Rosaria smiles, leaning down to pick up another Wolfhook. Razor quickly joins her, gathering the Wolfhooks nearby and depositing them in her basket.
“I protect Lupical, because Lupical is family. Family is…” he trails, thinking hard. “Family is more than blood.”
Blood relations are overrated, Rosaria had once told him.
“Sister is Lupical,” he continues, “I will protect.”
In another circumstance, perhaps Rosaria would have laughed at the idea of this kid protecting her. Now, though, she feels her throat tighten.
“I’ll protect you, too,” she says truthfully. It’s a promise she feels confident in keeping—while she can’t always be there for her brother, she can promise to look out for him in the ways she knows how.
She can promise to be his big sister.