Mdzs Oneshots

Dawn

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of war and death, suicidal thoughts

"Where's he?" Wangji's voice wavered slightly, but there was an undercurrent of steel to them. Without bothering to hide his disdain, the angry purple Lotus glared at him.

"What do you want with him?" Jiang Wanyin crossed his arms, distrust shifting heavily in the air. Wangji glared back at him with equal ferocity, both of them unyielding.

"Why does it matter to you? You're the one who threw him out of the Sect." Lan Wangji knew it was a low blow, but he couldn't help himself. For a moment he thought he saw those amethyst eyes soften, before hardening again. Finally, Jiang Wanyin relented. "He's upstairs. Though I'm not sure what good seeing such filth will do you." If Lan Zhan had more time, he'd have punched those words out of the Jiang Head's sneering mouth. But he didn't. He left without saying a thank-you, scurrying up to find him. Uncle wouldn't approve, he thought. Then again, Lan Qiren didn't approve of anything besides sleeping, eating and breathing.

Just as Lan Wangji reached up, balancing on the heavy tiles, he spotted a familiar silhouette. It was a brush of charcoal and crimson against the deep, cerulean blue of the night, the stars glittering behind him. Though Wangji wasn't a painter, his fingers itched for something, anything to capture this moment. So he wasn't lying, Lan Wangji thought, taking a deep breath before steadying himself. "Wei Ying?" he called out.

The figure stirred slightly but didn't turn around, though Wangji knew he heard him anyway. Slowly, he began to walk towards him. Silver eyes danced to his, pink lips flashing a small smile before fluttering away again, and Wangji thought he felt the tiny spark in his heart quiver. Before long, he was less than two feet away from him.

"I'm scared," he whispered, as if oblivious to the figure beside him. Or maybe it was exactly because he was beside him, that he dared to say those words. "Why am I so terrified?"

The words spun on his tongue, making him sound so small and fragile. It was odd, Wangji observed, how those deemed as abominations by society, were sometimes the most vulnerable.

But Wei Ying wasn't a monster.

And Lan Zhan feared that their hatred would only grow. Wordlessly, he sat down next to him, joining him while they glanced at the stars. It was almost as if they were back in Cloud Recesses again, only they weren't fighting anymore.

Or were they?

They stood on two different sides of the battlefield, but sometimes Wangji felt like the lines between them blurred. No matter what the rest of the Elders said, he couldn't quite fathom the idea of Wei Ying as an enemy, much less evil.

"We're going to fight to our deaths," he answered. "Who wouldn't be afraid?"

But the other boy simply curled further into himself, bringing his knees to his chest. For a moment Wangji imagined either of them falling over the edge of the roof, ending any of their fears here and now. "I don't know, Wangji. In those stories...they always painted war as a glorious thing. Something worth fighting for, something worth dying for. But now looking at all this around us..." he gestured helplessly to the rubble that surrounded them, corpses strewn around the battlefield, slowly dragged away by soldiers and civilians alike. He thought he recognized some of the bodies of the comrades and classmates he'd had. Once so brilliant they were now gone. Villagers were walking up to the bodies, trying to find a semblance of their fallen loved ones, gingerly lifting their headgear.

Some, he knew, would leave with the hope that they were alive.

The rest would never be with them again. Never hear them, listen to them, laugh with them. Wei Wuxian couldn't help but feel his heart wilt at the knowledge.