Chapter Text
Durin was beginning to panic a little.
His day had started normal enough – he’d first gone with Albedo to drop off Klee with Kaeya, and then the two of them headed out to the Stormbearer Mountains to investigate a Ley Line instability that had been reported by some spooked adventurers. Even though investigating anomalies was Albedo’s job as a knight, Durin oftentimes shadowed him for most things he did – it was a chance to observe and learn while also being able to spend time with his brother. Durin enjoyed it, and Albedo liked having the help, so this was both nice and mutually beneficial.
Today, though, things had gone wrong – Durin still wasn’t sure what happened. He’d been investigating some of the elemental energy that seemed to be discharging from the Ley Lines, observing a strange purple light that wasn’t quite normal for a disturbance like this, and something about it felt… weird. It was pulsing with energy. There was a sort of humming that felt like it was vibrating in his very veins, and Durin moved cautiously in its proximity as they investigated what was going on.
Once visual observation hadn’t revealed anything more, he’d watched apprehensively as Albedo squatted towards the ground and carefully reached out to interact with the Ley Line – but there was no response, not even when Albedo poured in Geo energy. Usually, Ley Line anomalies responded to elemental energy, so the two of them thought it was strange. They’d exchanged a look before Albedo suggested that Durin try putting in Pyro energy as well, just to make sure the Ley Line was truly unresponsive to elemental energy.
When Durin reached forward to interact, though, it was as though the Ley Line anomaly reached back at him. It reacted with his latent Abyssal energy, and Durin felt the entire Ley Line shift – almost like it had gone into reverse – and where it had been emitting power, it suddenly started to pull, and the world became a confusing blur of colors and oppressive energy, pressing at and squeezing his chest as if he’d been placed in a bind.
Then, all of a sudden, it stopped, and even the strange humming that was resonating throughout his body ceased. The Ley Line had disappeared. Everything was quiet, and as Durin had laid in the grass, staring up at the blue sky, he’d felt dizzy but otherwise fine.
He hadn’t recognized that weird feeling the Ley Line had given him until it was too late: it had been fused with Abyssal energy. Something had been off about it, but in hindsight, the essence of it was unmistakable.
He’d expected Albedo to immediately start fussing over him, but even Albedo was quiet. Durin had become afraid – maybe Albedo had been affected by the Ley Line, too? – but when he’d pushed himself up to check and make sure he was okay, Albedo was nowhere to be found.
“Albedo?” He’d called, but there was no reply.
It wasn’t like Albedo to wander off too far from wherever Durin was without telling him first, so as Durin had taken to the air to try and spot him, he thought it was strange that Albedo was nowhere to be found. He’d begun to fear that the Ley Line had done something to his brother, like pulling him inside, or spiriting him away somewhere, or maybe even something worse. So, he’d flown back to Mondstadt to get the Knights of Favonius involved right away.
Except, Mondstadt had changed, too. As he walked through the gates, the guards called him a “strange yet respectable traveler” – which was usually reserved for, well, travelers. He hadn’t recognized those knights, so he told them that he lived there and went on his way – but then it started becoming more unsettling when Durin didn’t see a single face he recognized. He was growing afraid by the time he’d pushed his way into Favonius HQ and found Jean’s office occupied by someone he’d never seen before. The man that was sitting there looked up at his intrusion with suspicion, and Durin had stuttered through an explanation with barely-contained anxiety.
“I’m, I’m so sorry,” he’d explained quickly, “I just – I thought Jean would be in here, but everything is strange – everything is different? I’m not sure—”
“Jean?” The man had replied. “Who is Jean?”
Durin had swallowed. “The Acting Grand Master...” he’d said quietly, already fearing the answer. “The Dandelion Knight? Or maybe Grand Master Varka? The Knight of Boreas?”
The man had leaned back. “Now that’s strange,” he said, “considering I’m the Knight of Boreas.”
That fact alone was disquieting, but Durin had to carry on and try to explain what was happening – he needed to warn the Knights about the Stormbearer Mountains, and tell them to be cautious. Durin made his description brief, telling him to please keep his eyes out for someone matching Albedo’s description – but while he’d talked, the man was eyeing his draconic features a little too closely, and Durin had excused himself from the man as quickly as possible, fumbling with the door and wondering what in the world that Ley Line had done to change Mondstadt into a place he didn’t recognize. The streets were the same, even if the storefronts were different… but none of the people were right, and everything was wrong with it.
He made the journey up Dragonspine to look for Albedo in his camp, only to find the cave empty of anything Albedo had ever built there. It was just a natural carving in the mountain’s side, without even a fire to warm its depths.
The mountain was alive with Abyssal energy again, too. Durin of Dragonspine’s heart was beating again, and Durin had no idea what that could have even meant. He put a hand on his chest, his own heart beating rapidly with apprehension.
All of it filled Durin with a fright he tried not to think about.
He’d tried to piece together what it all could have meant, but it still didn’t make sense to him. He wasn’t good at drawing conclusions from evidence the way that Albedo was, but he’d tried to put himself into Albedo’s shoes and do what his brother would have done – he’d decided that Albedo would have investigated every option, so Durin resolved to do the same.
He flew back to where the Ley Line anomaly had been, but the area was completely clear. It was as though it had never existed at all. He pinched himself, wondering if maybe he’d just been sleeping and was having a terrible dream – but, no, reality was painfully real, and he was becoming increasingly distressed.
The idea of dreams had given him an idea, though, and being in Mondstadt was making him nervous anyway – so against his better judgement, he flew to Sumeru.
He’d flown all the way there only to find himself nearly accosted by guards crossing their spears across the door of the Sanctuary or Surasthana, threatening to arrest him should he dare mention Lesser Lord Kusanali one more time. They spoke of her reclusive nature, how she did not see outsiders, and told him to scram before they called more guards over.
It wasn’t right. None of it was right.
That description, though, had raised alarm bells in Durin’s mind – because Hat Guy had told him about Nahida’s history, about how the sages had imprisoned her and framed it as though they were not the ones who had taken control of the nation. That probably meant that for some reason, in this version of the world, she had never been freed… which meant that Nahida was still imprisoned, and Durin wouldn’t be able talk to her – let alone save her, just by himself.
That was the point at which Durin had begun to panic a little.
He stood against the railing, clutching it to ground himself and trying to reign in his spiraling thoughts, his breath heaving a bit too quickly in his throat. He considered willful ignorance, like maybe pretending all of it was just a really realistic bad dream he’d wake up from… but Durin knew better than that. Albedo was missing, maybe even in danger, and Durin found himself in a world that was slightly familiar and yet completely unrecognizable at the same time.
He had to do something. He just didn’t know what.
This was the part where he always turned to someone that had more worldly experience. He’d usually ask Albedo, or Hat Guy…
Durin stilled. Did Hat Guy exist in this version of the world? Lesser Lord Kusanali did, even if she was still imprisoned… even despite the fact that no one in Mondstadt had been familiar. So if she existed, maybe Hat Guy did too?
Something like hope filled his chest. Hat Guy would know how to fix this – he always knew how to solve everything. He was always so confident and knowledgeable. If anyone could help, it would be him.
Durin didn’t waste another moment. He took to the streets, roaming the halls of the Akademiya, asking everyone he could about Hat Guy. Had they seen someone, about this tall, wearing a huge hat? He has a sour attitude, Durin described, but he’s not that bad if you talk to him?
Everyone shook their heads. Not a single person had ever seen someone like that.
Durin was beginning to lose hope.
Hat Guy had always been very secretive about his past, and never told Durin what he did before he started studying at the Akademiya. Asking around Sumeru City hadn’t given him any leads, either, so there was only one lingering thought in Durin’s head he could cling to: Hat Guy was from Inazuma, right? So he wondered if, maybe, if he went to Inazuma…
It was a stupid idea. It was a terribly bad idea, considering that Albedo could have been in danger with every passing moment. The trip there wasn’t short. But Durin had no leads. The Ley Line had disappeared, and Albedo’s camp was missing, and he didn’t know who else to turn to. He didn’t know how to help otherwise. He felt a sort of crazed desperation for something familiar clutching at his heart. He felt like he needed to find Hat Guy. He had to at least try.
So, against his better judgement yet again, Durin made for Port Ormos.
He’d never been to Inazuma. He always begged Hat Guy to take him there, and Hat Guy had always replied with noncommittal answers that implied he didn’t like it there very much. Durin knew he had complicated feelings about the Electro Archon, and of course, Durin understood why. He hadn’t ever held it against Hat Guy for not wanting to go there.
Now, though, he wished they had gone together. Heading to an unfamiliar country in a world that felt unfamiliar was beginning to tear at his nerves, and as he watched the water break at the side of the ship, he wondered if he was being too childish. Searching for a single person in an entire country, who may or may not have even existed in this world… it was way too big a task. And yet, it was the only thing that kept his tears at bay. He had to admit by this point that he was absolutely terrified, and the thought of finding someone familiar that he could rely on was the only thing Durin could cling to.
As soon as his boots hit the wooden planks of Ritou’s harbor, though, he began to have doubts. He didn’t have the first idea about how things worked in Inazuma, or where to even look for Hat Guy. He never talked about himself, and trying to get anything out of him was nearly impossible – he’d barely managed to get Hat Guy to mention his creator at all. How in the world was he supposed to find him here? Where in Inazuma was Hat Guy even from?
Well, aside from probably where the Electro Archon lived… but Durin had a feeling that wouldn’t give him any answers, considering she hadn’t kept him long enough for Hat Guy to have even lived with her. Durin couldn’t imagine someone doing that, and it made him unbearably sad that Hat Guy had to go through that at all. It squeezed at his chest as he tried to shake the thought aside – Hat Guy would’ve been so mad at him for thinking like that, and it wasn’t helpful right now.
No. He had to focus on finding Hat Guy. That was all that mattered.
So, he began asking people.
Have you seen a guy with a really big hat?
He’s got short, dark hair…. He’s maybe about this tall…
He glares at you sometimes if you talk to him…
No one had heard of him. Durin was beginning to lose hope. He knew it had been a big ask, trying to find one single person in a whole nation of people, but... the thought of finding him had become Durin’s last hope, and he was desperately clinging to it, trying not to give up on it.
He was sure Hat Guy would be able to help. He just had to find him, first.
Inazuma City was beautiful, and huge, the architecture so intricately balanced visually with the pink of the Sakura trees – so unlike anything Durin had ever seen before – and he might have felt a more grand sense of awe if there wasn’t sheer desperation gnawing at the pit of his stomach.
He asked around. No one knew.
No one even reacted, until he asked a man sitting outside a boarded-up building along the street, something that looked like it might’ve been a blacksmith’s shop before it closed. He posed his question – and the downcast man’s attention snapped to Durin immediately, his eyes narrowing.
“Why?” The man asked defensively. “Are you working with him?”
Durin wasn’t sure what to make of that response – but there was a sense of recognition there, something in that description that the man had immediately mentally put a person to – and while maybe he should have been uneasy, given the reaction, all Durin felt was excited anticipation. He might’ve actually just found someone who could give him a lead.
“Uh,” Durin said, carefully gauging the man’s response – he wondered if Hat Guy had said something to him to make this guy mad. He decided to play his reply safe, just in case. “I wouldn’t say that. But I am looking for him. Please, have you seen him?”
The man eyed Durin with suspicion. “I’ve seen such a man,” he said, “though whether he qualifies as man is debatable. I’d sooner call him a monster than anything.”
Durin listened, something knotting in his stomach. That description wasn’t…
Well, no, maybe it was. Hat Guy wasn’t human. Inhuman qualities were, maybe, a step in the right direction… though Durin really wasn’t happy about that sort of description. Was Hat Guy ostracized throughout his life for being nonhuman? Was that why he was always so prickly?
His first instinct was to defend Hat Guy – because anyone saying something terrible like that about him clearly didn’t know him – but Durin thought better of it. This was the only person so far that might’ve actually seen him. If Durin antagonized this man, then he definitely wouldn’t feel comfortable speaking his mind, or giving any answers. This was a delicate situation – he had to be cautious about how he spoke.
Despite his heart crying out against it, Durin kept his mouth shut. “That sounds like it might be him,” Durin said neutrally, choosing his words carefully. “I have business with him. If you know anything, please… tell me.”
He couldn’t mask the desperation that leaked into his voice. Somehow, though, that seemed to do the trick – the man frowned, leaning forward and speaking lowly.
“If you speak of the one named Kunikuzushi,” the man whispered, and Durin held his breath, his heart pounding wildly, “then you should know I’ve already spoken with the Yashiro Commission. We’re meant to cover it up. But…” he leaned back, then, speaking more normally as he eyed Durin appraisingly, “you look like a young man who can fight… so if your business is what I think it is, then I’ll simply leave you with a warning: he is dangerous. Don’t do anything rash. I’d tell you to give up, but… I get the sense that you’re very determined.”
Despite the trepidation mounting in Durin’s chest, he nodded.
“As I thought,” the man chuckled softly. “Well, I suppose I can’t stop you, then. My encounter with him was on the beach north of Byakko Plain, but I won’t say anything more. May the Almighty Shogun protect you.”
Durin thanked him, quickly taking to the skies and heading north, but the man’s words began eating away at his nerves. He’d immediately been bothered by what he heard, but the implications were starting to gnaw at him. Were people hunting Hat Guy? What exactly was the government of Inazuma trying to cover up?
It gave him a bad feeling, and he pushed forward, trying to find Hat Guy as soon as possible. He knew it could turn out that the man hadn’t been talking about Hat Guy at all… it could have turned out to be someone random that shared some traits of his, maybe, or a complete dead end. But Durin had a feeling that this was, actually, Hat Guy. It just seemed like it added up.
Hat Guy never talked about his past. He’d never even given Durin his real name. If… if Kunikuzushi was his real name, should he have felt bad for hearing it from someone that wasn’t Hat Guy? And… while it was true Hat Guy was definitely dangerous in a fight, something about the way that man spoke of him sat wrong in Durin’s chest. Was he hated in Inazuma? Was that why he was always so adamant about keeping to himself, and staying away from the nation he came from?
Durin couldn’t help but worry more, and the desperate need to find him intensified. Durin pressed onward, the beach in question finally coming into view as he flew.
There was nothing there – and while Durin hadn’t asked how recently that man had seen him, he’d already expected to find nothing. Still, his disappointment crashed over him in a horrible wave. What was he supposed to do if Hat Guy didn’t exist in this world? Or if he did exist, but Durin just couldn’t find him? What was he supposed to do if Hat Guy was hated by people, and Nahida was imprisoned, and Albedo was missing? What would Durin do if he couldn’t figure out how he was supposed to fix whatever had gone wrong with the Ley Lines?
He’d flown up and down the coast of Narukami Island at least three times looking for Hat Guy, finding absolutely nothing, before he decided to finally set down, the anxiety he’d been so adamantly shoving down finally clawing its way back up his throat. He tiredly sat down in the grass and curled into himself, adamantly pressing his fists into his eyes. He couldn’t cry, not now. He wouldn’t cry, because panicking right now wouldn’t help anything.
Still, he felt so, so alone. No one could help him here, could they? He’d have to find his way back to the real world on his own, and that terrified him.
And worse yet, this world didn’t seem kind to the people he cared about. How could he even help them? What was he supposed to do? How could he justify trying to find a way home without even helping them?
Then, though, he heard a rustle in the bushes a bit of a ways off – and Durin stood up, his heart pounding. He didn’t want anyone to see him sitting out here crying in the middle of nowhere – especially if the Inazuma of this world hated nonhumans, which it sounded like they might have. He would certainly stick out like a sore thumb, if that were the case.
He pushed off the ground and took back to the sky, wondering where he should go. He didn’t know if he had the energy to keep looking for Hat Guy – he thought that maybe there was a chance he did exist here, but was it worth spending time for? If the Ley Lines had put Albedo in danger, he didn’t want to waste weeks, or even months, looking for Hat Guy. He had already wasted so many days trying to find any clues.
He could almost hear Hat Guy scoffing at him, telling him crying wasn’t going to help anything. He would’ve been right, too – Durin sniffed, trying to pull himself together. He had to start trying to find leads on a solution. That would probably mean heading back to Mondstadt… even if it meant dealing with the unfamiliar Knights of Favonius throwing dirty glares at him, no doubt equating his dragonlike features to the Durin of Dragonspine. He could explain the truth to them the same way he had in reality, and then they’d hopefully help him find an answer.
That was what he needed to do. He’d already wasted too much time. No one was going to be able to help him – he’d have to find a way to solve it himself. Somehow.
He didn’t even know how that would be possible, but he’d have to try.
It was only once he’d resigned himself to flying back north towards Ritou that he saw something on the ground that caught his attention – and he blanched so hard he nearly plummeted from the sky entirely.
That style of hat. It wasn’t the exact one, but – it couldn’t be, right?
Making their way through the deserted backwoods of Inazuma’s wilds, the figure kept out of sight from the main road, moving through the trees and brush – and Durin nearly burst into tears a second time. Nosediving towards the ground, he set down a distance away, trying to get a line of sight on him, just to be sure, before he got his hopes up too much.
But, there was no doubt about it. The minute Durin saw his face, he ran towards him without a second thought.
“Hat Guy!” He cried. “Hat Guy, wait! I finally found—”
Hat Guy turned, and Durin had scarcely even looked at him for a second before throwing his arms around his friend with relief, not thinking about anything except how happy he was to have actually found him.
And then, Durin’s body went numb, and he found himself on the ground.
“Don’t touch me!” Hat Guy snarled, looking down at Durin fiercely, and Durin’s head was spinning.
Was that – was that Electro?
Had he just electrocuted him?
There was not a single shred of recognition in Hat Guy’s expression – his eyes were cold, and dangerous, his brows drawn in suspicion and warning.
“Who the hell are you? Speak, or you won’t have another chance to.” He threatened.
This was Hat Guy – this was most certainly Hat Guy – and yet, this wasn’t Hat Guy at all, just like the rest of this world. Achingly familiar, yet so unfamiliar it left him feeling more alone than ever. Durin felt stupid for the tears that resurfaced, but he couldn’t help it, seeing that kind of look directed at him from Hat Guy. He’d never made that sort of expression, and certainly had never directed it at him.
Still, he obeyed, doing his best to speak. “I—” he started, unsure how to explain what was going on in a way that would quickly convince Hat Guy he wasn’t a threat to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, Hat Guy, I just— I saw you and I— I was so relieved, but—”
Hat Guy cut him off. “You didn’t startle me,” he snapped, looking down at Durin as though he was disgusted. “I— wait. What did you just call me?”
Durin paused, his teary-eyed surprise mirroring the strange neutrality that just came over Hat Guy’s face as he spoke. Durin swallowed harshly, daring not to hope. “…Hat Guy?”
Hat Guy stared down at him, his expression blank.
Durin stared back, his throat bobbing as he struggled to think of what he could possibly say, his mind racing.
A strange moment passed between them, and Durin almost wondered if, somehow, he’d actually remembered him after all – and then, Hat Guy burst out laughing.
Durin was bewildered. This world’s Hat Guy wore black, a long veil draped from his hat, blowing in the wind as he doubled over in laughter. He laughed, but it wasn’t mirthful – not like the quick barks of laughter the real Hat Guy let out sometimes. There was nothing warm in this laugh. It was something caustic, biting even, and it set Durin on edge as Hat Guy abruptly stopped, his piercing gaze fixing on Durin coldly, pinning him down sharply and humorlessly a moment later.
He had to remember that this world’s Hat Guy wasn’t his Hat Guy – but Durin reminded himself that, even so, he was still Hat Guy. If Durin spoke to him and explained what was happening, he would listen. He always did. Durin was sure he’d help.
“The audacity of you to call me such a thing,” Hat Guy said, scrutinizing Durin. “Not many mortals would dare speak of me so casually. I’ll give you one more chance, but only because you’re entertaining. Speak. Why are you bothering me?”
Durin swallowed. “I need your help,” he said, unsure where to start. The way Hat Guy’s eyes narrowed menacingly at him with those words didn’t help his nerves. “I— I mean you don’t have to, of course, but I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You’re my best friend – or, I guess, not actually you, but a different you, and you always know what to do. There was a problem with the Ley Lines being weird, and I woke up here alone, and I have no idea what’s going on or how to fix it, so I just wanted to find you, or anyone I know who could help me, but nobody is how they’re supposed to be.” Durin rambled, blurting his words out carelessly, quickly, completely breathless.
That… that could have gone better.
Hat Guy eyed him balefully. Still, given the fact that he’d attacked just a moment prior, Durin supposed the fact he wasn’t attacking again now was a good sign… maybe. He was still coiled dangerously, staring Durin down with thinly veiled malice. It was unnerving.
“I’ll have you know I’m in a very bad mood,” Hat Guy said, “so either you stop speaking nonsense and tell me why you’re here, or I’ll kill you before you have a chance to run. What will it be?”
Durin swallowed harshly. Okay – maybe it was going worse than he thought. His Hat Guy definitely had that sort of streak to him, but this one was so, so much more volatile. He scrambled to find his words, his gloves curling into fists at his sides nervously.
“I was speaking the truth,” he said, this time more firmly. “Sorry. Let me try again. Something went wrong in the Ley Lines – there was some kind of Abyssal anomaly that made something go wrong, but I don’t know anything more than that. After I touched it, the world became different. It’s like the Ley Line altered the world somehow. I came to find you because in my version of the world, we’re friends. And… I was hoping you could help me, because I really don’t know where to even start.”
He looked to Hat Guy hopefully, who at least hadn’t made any moves while he spoke. He eyed Durin suspiciously, scrutinizing every word, but it seemed like he heard the truth in his tone – and he stood straight, then, putting a hand to his chin. “Say I believe you,” he said, “which I don’t, for the record. Everything you’ve just said is utterly laughable. But pretending that I humor you – what do you expect me to do about this?”
Durin frowned. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “You always help me when I have problems. You know so much, and always seem to have some idea of how to help… so I just thought…” he trailed off.
Hat Guy watched him, his expression unreadable.
Now that the initial anxiety was passing and he’d actually found Hat Guy, and the adrenaline was wearing off, Durin was starting to feel extremely sore, as if every muscle in his body was simultaneously both going numb and also hurting at the same time. It felt like he’d just been ambushed by a pack of Electro Slimes. Which… he supposed he had, sort of. That really had surprised Durin, because… since when had Hat Guy used Electro?
Unthinkingly, too used to the comforting presence of his own Hat Guy, he spoke. “Why are you using Electro?” He asked. “Do you not have your Anemo Vision in this world?”
Whatever Hat Guy had been about to say, he paused, his mouth halfway open. After a moment of gathering his thoughts, his eyebrows furrowed. “My what?”
Durin wasn’t sure what to make of that tone, but he was instantly reminded that this version of Hat Guy was not as gentle as the one he knew. “Your Vision…” Durin repeated, his voice small and tentative. “In my version of the world, you use Anemo, not Electro.”
Hat Guy stared at him, then, bewildered. In fact, even the traces of hostility dropped from his expression – all that stared back at him was genuine surprise.
“I have a Vision?” He asked.
Durin nodded. “Yeah,” he told him. “You never told me how you got it, but it has a Sumeru casing. That’s where you live, in my world. I only came to Inazuma to find you because I went to Sumeru first, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.” Durin paused, looking up and down Hat Guy’s outfit – he most definitely had used Electro, but Durin didn’t see an Electro Vision anywhere on him. Given his question, Durin could only assume he didn’t have a Vision at all. “You can use Electro without a Vision?”
Hat Guy eyed him suspiciously. “You claim you know me,” he said, “so prove it. You should know the answer to that question. Go on then,” he mocked. “Tell me.”
It was clear Hat Guy didn’t believe him, but if Durin had a chance to prove he wasn’t lying, he had to make sure he wasn’t wrong. Durin had never seen Hat Guy use Electro, so he didn’t know for sure… but if he thought about it, Durin could take a pretty good guess. “It must be innate, then, right?” Durin asked. “Considering who created you.”
Could his Hat Guy use Electro, too? Durin couldn’t help but wonder.
Hat Guy’s gaze darkened. “How do you know that? That’s not common knowledge.”
“Um,” Durin started nervously, “because you told me. But it’s something we have in common. Not being fully human, I mean.”
Eyeing him sharply, Hat Guy’s lips pressed into a tight line, his expression severe. “Huh.” He considered Durin for a moment, then, before speaking once more. “Contemptible. I will find out how you discovered this about me,” he promised grimly, “but you’re correct. A divine being like myself has no need for a useless tool like a Vision. Unlike you lowly creatures, I’m above the need for such a thing.”
“Well,” Durin said, unsure how to reply to that, “in my world, you’re very fond of your Vision. You’re really good at using Anemo, too. I’ve never even seen you use Electro before.”
Hearing what Durin had to say, Hat Guy snorted a laugh, but it was hard to tell what kind of emotion it actually carried with it. “I see,” he said. “Well, you’ve come up with a pretty intricate story – too bad it’s completely unbelievable. What a bunch of nonsense,” he scoffed. “What kind of trickery is this, anyway? I’ve never seen a youkai like you before.”
Durin frowned. “I’m not tricking you. I’m telling the truth.” He sighed. “You’re always so skeptical about everything, so I guess I should’ve expected this… but I also really don’t know how to convince you that I’m not lying, either. You always humor me anyway, even when you don’t believe me.”
Hat Guy stared at him, and crossed his arms. “You’re not convincing me any further,” he sighed. “Fine. Tell me what you are, then.”
“Me?” Durin asked. “I’m— well, I was created, too. I’m a homunculus, I guess, but I’m also a dragon. I’m kind of both. My name is Durin.”
Hat Guy paused. “Durin?”
Durin nodded. “Yes. I replaced the Durin of Dragonspine. In my world, you and my brother helped me become human.”
Keeping his gaze fixed on Durin, it was clear to see the deep thought going on behind Hat Guy’s narrowed expression – in every version of the world, he would always be so smart, his discerning eyes bright with intelligence.
“You are a strange one,” he said at last, then, sighing irritably. He seemed to internally decide something before he spoke. “Fine, whatever. You’ve put on quite the show. Keep your life, and get out of my sight. I have better things to do than waste my time listening to this nonsense.”
Hat Guy turned on his heel, then, not wasting a moment as he began to stride away down towards the beach.
Durin gasped in surprise, scrambling up as quickly he could to follow, but his muscles didn’t want to listen to him – he only made it halfway up before he crashed back down into the ground. “Wait! Hat Guy, please don’t leave! I—” he coughed, desperately trying to push himself back up. “Please don’t leave me,” he begged, maybe a little pathetically, but the thought of Hat Guy leaving after he’d finally managed to find him, despite being in this terrifying rendition of the world, made him feel like his heart was being squeezed to death.
To Durin’s great relief, Hat Guy paused in his step immediately. He turned, then, looking down upon Durin once more. After a moment passed, he spoke. “And?” He asked. “What do you expect me to do for you? I don’t help people.”
Durin thought about it, gingerly pushing himself back up into a sitting position. He still couldn’t believe Hat Guy could use Electro – it was a big change, and it hurt a lot. He’d have to keep that in mind. “To be honest,” he said, “I don’t know. But I know that if I’m with you, it won’t be as bad as being alone.” Durin considered the situation, then, and spoke decisively. “I’ll solve the problem myself. Just, please… let me stay with you, until I figure it out.”
Hat Guy kept his eyes trained on Durin, but said nothing.
Durin pulled in a deep breath. “Um…” He started nervously, unsure if he was about to make a terrible mistake, but he spoke his mind anyway. “Your name in this world is Kunikuzushi, right? You always say you prefer being alone… but I know you’re like me. You don’t like being alone, either. I promise I’ll try not to make any trouble for you, and I’ll get out of your hair if you tell me to. Is that okay?”
Durin wasn’t sure what part of his statement had spurred Kunikuzushi into action, but something had changed – his eyes flashed and suddenly he moved closer, stopping right in front of Durin, and squatted down to his eye level. “Where did you hear that name?” He asked. “Did she send you?”
Durin shook his head. “No – I was asking around town if anyone had seen someone like you. There was a guy that told me he’d seen you, and gave me your name. I’m sorry – should I not use it?”
Kunikuzushi’s eyes narrowed, searching Durin for something, but Durin didn’t look away. “You heard,” he questioned, “and you came looking anyway?”
Frowning, Durin replied, unsure what his thought process was. “Yes?” It came out sounding more like a question than a statement. “I came to Inazuma looking for you, so there’s no way I would turn around as soon as I finally had a lead. I’m not sure why the people here don’t like you,” he said, “but that will never include me.”
Barking a cruel laugh, Kunikuzushi scoffed. “That’s just because you’re foolish and ignorant,” he said. “There is no ‘version’ of me that would make friends with anyone, let alone someone naïve like you. Tell me, Durin – do you know what Kunikuzushi translates to?”
Durin shook his head.
“Country Destroyer. You want to guess why I chose that name?”
It was a weighty name with a heavy implication, and he posed an even weightier question. Durin swallowed, unnerved by the intensity with which he was being stared at.
“Because,” Kunikuzushi answered, not waiting for Durin’s reply, “I wanted her to know it was me that killed them all. When Inazuma’s reputation falls, I want her to know I was the one that ruined it for her. And when she thinks of all the mistakes she’s made, she’ll know I was the biggest one of them all. I’ll make her regret it.” He stood back up, then, turning away so Durin could only see his back. “Damn him for getting in my way… whatever. I’ve grown bored of this place. There’s nothing of interest here anyway.” He turned back to look at Durin. “So I thought, anyway. I’m not sure what to make of you. Should I kill you?”
Feeling unsettled, Durin spoke anyway. “…Are you asking me?”
This seemed to catch him off guard, and he nearly sputtered. “Wh— no, I’m not asking you! What are you, stupid?”
Despite himself, despite the tension of the situation, Durin laughed. That answer was the exact same thing that Hat Guy would’ve said.
The admission that Kunikuzushi had killed a lot of people was alarming – but if he really thought about it, Durin didn’t feel as surprised as he should have. He’d known Hat Guy long enough to see the darkness under the surface – it wasn’t implausible that he was capable of that, was it? He’d have to be blind to see how lethal Hat Guy could be in battle.
Whether or not the real Hat Guy had killed anyone, though, it didn’t shake Durin’s core to know this one had. Was it frightening? A little, but Durin had to reason that he himself had hurt a lot of people in Simulanka, too. Dragonspine Durin had killed thousands. And Durin himself was a combination of them both, so, really… he had blood on his hands, too.
They weren’t so different.
“You presume to know me,” Kunikuzushi said contemptuously, “but that’s ridiculous. If you truly knew me, you’d know to keep your distance.”
Durin shook his head. “No,” he replied insistently. “That’s what you always say, and you’re wrong. You don’t really mean it.”
Kunikuzushi narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh? Then tell me, dragon boy,” he sneered, “what makes you so certain you know me better than I know myself?”
Truthfully, Durin knew very little of Hat Guy’s past, and it was impossible to know if his Hat Guy even shared the same history as this one at all. Still, there were some things Durin just intrinsically knew – and it was those truths he spoke to. “I just do,” he said honestly. “You always think the worst of people, including yourself. But you’re a lot nicer than you pretend to be. You’ve saved me more than once, and I’ll never leave, no matter how much you try to push me away.”
Kunikuzushi stared him down critically, but something had shifted in his gaze, and it seemed like maybe he had finally reached through to him. Durin waited with bated breath as he waited for a response, the air between them more thoughtful than anything.
Then, though, there was the sound of footsteps nearby, and Kunikuzushi’s head snapped around – and immediately he turned back to Durin with a frown, reaching out to his shoulders and roughly shoving him – and as Durin let out a surprised yelp as he tumbled backwards, Kunikuzushi went further and kicked him, forcing During to roll away into the underbrush.
Through the haze of confusion and mild pain, Durin heard the familiar sound of bells chiming from where they hung from Kunikuzushi’s hat as he turned back around – and then, suddenly, there were voices.
“Lord Harbinger,” someone said, his tone muffled, and Durin froze.
Harbinger?
As in, Fatui? Fatui Harbinger?
Kunikuzushi was a Fatui Harbinger?
That was— that was different.
“What?” Kunikuzushi snapped impatiently, his tone acerbic.
“S-sir!” The voice spoke nervously. “We— we came to investigate, seeing as you told us to meet you at the rendezvous point—”
“And did I tell you to leave the rendezvous point?” Kunikuzushi questioned with vitriol.
“W-well,” the voice replied, “no, but—”
“Then,” Kunikuzushi spat, “I suggest you go back there and wait for me, as ordered, or I promise you, you’ll be waiting for something much, much worse instead. Do I make myself clear?”
“Perfectly clear! Sir!” The voice answered, and several pairs of footsteps all retreated in record time.
Durin’s head was spinning. He wasn’t sure whether that was due to the revelation, being kicked into a bush, or having been electrocuted before.
Still, as soon as the footsteps vanished from hearing, the bush rustled, and Durin was hoisted up into a standing position. Kunikuzushi’s grip on him was firm, but not harsh, and he stared at Durin with the expression of someone mildly inconvenienced, which might have been funny at any other moment, had Durin not been feeling such flabbergasted whiplash.
“Now then” Kunikuzushi muttered to himself, “what am I supposed to do with you?”
Still, Durin frowned. “…Maybe not kick me?” He suggested.
Kunikuzushi’s attention snapped to Durin with annoyance. “Stop answering questions that I didn’t ask you.” His eyes narrowed as he looked into Durin’s eyes. “Do you not feel an ounce of self-preservation?”
That was probably a valid question, really, but Durin was feeling a little loopy, by this point. Maybe he’d reached his limit of exhaustion, or maybe having Hat Guy’s hands holding him up was such a grounding relief that nothing else really mattered to him anymore. Either way, Durin’s answer was honest. “I don’t need to if it’s you,” he said.
Kunikuzushi opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came. Instead, his eyebrows only furrowed, and he closed his mouth with bewilderment before he shook his head, sighing. “Whatever,” he said at last, releasing Durin from his grip and expecting him to stay standing on his own, which Durin did his best to. “Well, now you know my identity,” he said, “so either I kill you, or…” he trailed off, not having found an alternative answer yet.
That did not bode well for Durin. “…Or…?” He probed anxiously.
“Or nothing. It’s not like I can let you go,” Kunikuzushi huffed. “I’ll just have to kill you.”
Still, even as he stood there, he made no move to do anything. At that moment, Durin knew he’d finally reached through to him. “Or…” Durin repeated Kunikuzushi’s word back to him, “maybe… you’ll let me come with you?”
“I didn’t say that,” Kunikuzushi snapped.
The thing about Hat Guy, though, was that he was susceptible to a little persuasion – and this was the part where Durin knew he could convince him. He hadn’t followed Hat Guy across all of Sumeru without needing to plead with him a few times, after all.
Giving him the most piteous expression, Durin made his case. “Well, if you can’t let me go, then the only alternative to killing me is taking me with you.” He said cheerfully.
“And why would I do that?” Kunikuzushi countered. “Killing you is a lot easier.”
Durin had his reply ready. “Because you don’t want to.”
Kunikuzushi frowned irritably. Maybe he was a different Hat Guy than the one Durin knew, but he was still Hat Guy, deep down. Durin still knew him well enough to know him.
“You don’t know the first thing about what I want,” Kunikuzushi grumbled. “What I want is for you to go away, but clearly, that’s not going to happen.”
“Sooo…” Durin prompted. “That’s a yes?”
“I didn’t say that!” Kunikuzushi snapped. “Ugh, whatever. Just keep up, and stop talking.” He said, turning on his heel and striding away without a moment of hesitation.
Durin smiled to himself. Even if this world was frightening in its unfamiliarity, and even if Hat Guy himself wasn’t really quite himself… he was still Hat Guy, after all. Durin’s heart swelled with gratitude.
Stepping forward to follow, though, Durin’s exhaustion seemed to catch up with him without warning. He hadn’t realized quite how tired he was, and maybe his muscles had just completely given up on him after being zapped, but he started feeling lightheaded as soon as he started moving. Still, he could power through – it wasn’t like this version of Hat Guy was the most patient person in Teyvat, and he didn’t want to make himself be any more trouble than he already was, considering how close Kunikuzushi had been to simply killing him instead.
Still, Durin’s vision was quickly growing dark around the edges, and he didn’t like that drifting, hazy feeling creeping up on him. He tried to fight it, but with every step he grew more lightheaded, and eventually, he had to speak up.
“Um, Hat Guy,” he started, already feeling only half-conscious, at best. “I…”
Kunikuzushi stopped, turning around abruptly to face him. “Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”
Stupidly, though, Durin couldn’t get his reply out. It felt like every muscle in his body completely gave up at the exact same time, and the last thing he was aware of was pitching forward before his vision blacked out entirely.