(written by Tora! like a long ass time ago)

Where darkness was celebrated and light was feared. Where ‘heroes’ don’t necessarily meet their happy end. Returning from The First to The Source after an other-worldly journey felt like a sigh of relief for Tora, but at the same time Norvrandt clings onto the back of his mind like a fever dream; The place, while hauntingly beautiful, still had a lot of mysteries left untold. In comparison, nothing’s more comfortable than home.

Tora has returned to Kugane. Wafts of the salty sea welcome him into her embrace, his turquoise hair tickled by the wind upon arrival. Tora aims to dedicate his limited time in the far east to rebuild the Doman Enclave through regular visits, and he’s thrilled to be involved in reviving a part of his history. His parents often look into a distant past when talking about their once-colonized home, it’s only fitting for Tora to contribute what he can in hopes of one day bringing his family to a ‘new’ Doma.

The Raen usually makes his visits to Kugane quick, duty calls and all, sometimes not even reaching up to a day - Of course not counting the times when he first came with the Scions, for work. This time, things were a little different. It’s been a groundbreaking three days, no calls from Tataru, and it felt almost purposeful. Tora didn’t want to stretch his prayers thin, but he thanks Aze every time he gets to enjoy his time in the far east.

When not in Doma, Tora spends his free time bringing Anzu around. She has gotten more resourceful in getting around the city by herself, but having Tora there was just more convenient, and fun. The night he returned, Anzu was already pestering him for details of his latest journey - in this case to The First. “Are you pulling my leg right now? I’m not ten nii-san.”, She first scoffed, but soon realized after thorough details that Tora was telling the truth.

To be fair, getting teleported to an alternate universe does seem a bit far-fetched, and a passing dream. Tora finds himself in a daze as events replayed in his head, and thinks nothing can surprise him any longer after being hurled into these odd circumstances. The increasing volume of cheerful bustle brought him back to the present as his feet automatically knew the way to Kogane Dori. Tora blinks and jogs his memory on what he was here for, not to mention it was only a little past dawn.

Tora hits an epiphany and makes his move to the apothecary to pick up Anzu’s prescribed herb concoction. He found out she occasionally suffers from a stinging pain in her wrist as a side effect from her accident, only amplified because she’s now helping around with the family business. It’s her own volition, and not even their parents can disagree. Tora can only offer his utmost support while forcing a smile, knowing she wouldn’t have such disadvantages if it wasn’t for him. His mood was suddenly sour as he handed the prescription notes to the vendor, looking at the leaf-wrapped parcel in his hands in disappointment while dragging his feet to visit the hunting board in Shiokaze hostelry to grab some requests in preparation for his afternoon.

The brooding Auri made haste to his next destination, not noticing an incoming figure from the corner of his eye. Surely fate had some things in store when he believes he can no longer be surprised, because this cliche turn of events was somewhat bewildering. The stranger bumps into Tora, spilling what seemed like a traditionally brewed cup of matcha on the sleeve of his ironed haori. The Raen is not one to lash out over a small mistake, or any mistake for that matter, but he sure was not having a good morning.

“Oh, oh no, I’m so sorry!”, his apologetic voice rang, sounding rushed and frantic. Tora, who was first checking on his wet sleeve, heaved a sigh and mumbled a short ‘It’s alright’. He didn’t meet his eyes with the stranger - and when he did, his eyes widened.

Dark, ebony horns.

A Xaela stood before him, one hand holding a tomephone and the other holding a half-empty cup of matcha. Tora didn’t know they did takeaways, strange. He would ponder over that if not for the fact that there was a literal Xaela standing before him. He has never seen one in Kugane, but oh do the memories ring clear of the day he was careless at the borders of Azim Steppe. If any of his time spent in Eorzea counts as experience, this Xaela is identifiably not of the Steppe. Undeniably, Tora was still slightly shaken.

The look on the Raen’s face was enough to send a clear message to the Xaela. Ariksar’s jaw tightened as he inwardly cursed at the careless mistake; Additional attention pointed his way was the least of his needs right now. The Xaela’s grip on his tomephone was starting to feel sweaty. “I apologize, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking,” He bows sincerely, a million thoughts running through his brain on how to handle the situation. Tora mused at the other’s accent and body language; he’s certainly not from the Steppe. Knowing that eases Tora a little, “Please let me make it up to you, I know a place that offers laundry services-” Ariksar tries to offer, but was stopped when Tora shook his head.

“I live nearby, and the stain isn’t as visible on dark clothing,” Tora gestured to his ink blue haori, “You needn’t worry about it, just be careful next time.” Ariksar’s eyes widened at the gentle refusal, completely expecting to be chewed out by the taller Auri - just like the previous cranky mender. Xaelas don’t exactly have the best reputation in the far east, they usually set their own boundaries and attack those who dare cross. As far as Ariksar’s concerned, Xaela tribes of the Steppe can smell his foreign ethics from a mile away, even when he tries to fit in.

“T-thank you, but I insist… It is a very well-made haori…” Ariksar trails off, feeling slightly awkward after making that fleeting praise to a stranger. Tora felt a smile tug at his lips; his parents were the ones who made it. For a moment, he was studying the Xaela’s face, meeting those rose quartz eyes that glint past milky white complexion and dark blue hair; although Tora caught himself getting mesmerized, he saw that the dark-horned Auri looked somewhat exhausted.

Tilting his head slightly at the sight of a bright green speck on Ariksar’s cheek, Tora wipes it off with his knuckle, getting a flinch from the other; Again, such a bewildering encounter. “Some matcha there. Anyway, you should get going. I’m pretty sure you’re busy, judging from the way you rushed into me.” Tora lightheartedly jokes as Ariksar jumps in his scales, sneaking a glance at the time on his tomephone and then back at the taller, expression laced in worry.

“I’m so sorry again, I have some things to tend to. I hope to make it up in due time.” Ariksar bows before setting off. He turned back to look one last time at the Raen who now had a lighter lift on his feet.

The morning didn’t exactly go too badly for Tora.

Just in case you’re here before i send it to you pls get out kel

{Part 2: Ais forgot to get any sort of identification from Tora to make up for his mistake and is venting about it over drinks - They accidentally meet again that same night}