Souls in Teyvat

Chapter 170: A Dance of Morality



"I still don't understand how that girl's head works" confessed Keith, picking up the dirty dishes to clean them.

"Unfortunately, neither do I" added Kafka, who stood up and walked behind the counter to help Keith wash the dishes.

"Oh, are those the mystical hands only seen once in a blue moon?" asked Keith, seeing how Kafka took out her gloves. "You must have liked that food a lot if you think I deserve to see such a gorgeous pair of hands."

"It was acceptable" replied Kafka, standing next to Keith. "Even if you were the one supposed to eat it."

Because in the end, the only one who hadn't eaten was Keith, and as he had been cooking the Honey Steak even before Kafka arrived, it was pretty obvious who was it for.

"I was never hungry to begin with" replied Keith, his eyes returning to the dish he was washing.

Kafka didn't reply, but understood the reason behind Keith's presence in the kitchen at 4 AM.

"Did the nightm-"

"How was your mission?" interrupted Keith, not wanting to talk about his uneasy feelings, not now that he was still happy about being able to share a meal with everyone in the base, except for Ruan Mei who was in a meeting with the other members of the Genius Society and Elio, who Keith guessed was already aware of their meal.

"..." Kafka glanced at Keith, but chose to let him get away with the change in topic, even if she took note of his clenched hands. "Not without trouble, but successful."

"Well, if you are in it, there was no other option" Keith had to admit that Kafka was nothing short of a prodigy, and every single mission she had participated in had been successful. "You have a 100% completion rate."

"I do" nodded Kafka. "I have a lot of experience after all."

"You do" admitted Keith. "Probably more than Blade, even taking into account his age."

"I do" repeated Kafka without emotions in her voice.

"And maybe the fact that you don't seem to dislike it helps" added Keith, which made Kafka stop for a moment.

"You disapprove?" asked Kafka with a small smile. "I know you hate killing."

"..." Keith stopped washing the dishes, and looked upwards with a pensive expression.

Kafka also stopped and looked at Keith, with her thoughts hidden by a mask of blankness on her face.

But this time, the usual small smile wasn't present.

"You think little of life" started Keith once he found the correct words. "But I know you are not a psychopath. You have no problem killing people, but you have never killed an innocent. You have no qualms in using your power to hypnotize others, but I know you have your reasons."

"That still doesn't reply to my question" said Kafka with a voice devoid of any emotions. "Do you disapprove of the path I've taken?"

"I don't" replied Keith, resuming his duty to wash the dishes. "Because I trust you. I trust you won't lose your path, and I trust your personality to make a clear distinction between what is right and wrong. This world is not an easy place, we have big goals which require extreme actions, and I'm not the same naïve person I once was. In the end, all I can do is to believe in you, and make sure you have a place to come back to and remember the person you are now."

Kafka looked to the dish in her hands again, and resumed her cleaning.

"No matter how little you care about human life" continued Keith, giving Kafka a new plate for her to dry. "The style of life you lead is very demanding. You are getting tired, I can see it even if you hide it. For the rest, you are the same cold woman unaffected by anything, but we have known each other for a long time. You are certainly a peculiar person, but that doesn't make you any different from the rest."

Kafka the plate, and took the next one Keith was giving her.

"So no, I don't disapprove of your actions, nor your hobbies, nor your personality" summarized Keith. "Because I know who you are, and how taxing the situation is for you, even if you don't care that much about what other people would be afraid of. You are just a peculiar person working hard for her goals, there is no way I would disapprove of that."

"I didn't ask that" said Kafka with an emotionless voice with a tinge of harshness in it.

"You asked if I disapprove of your lack of care about life" nodded Keith. "And yet, you meant far more than that, so I took the freedom to answer what you really wanted to ask."

"...." Kafka went silent, and extended her hand to dry another dish.

But nothing came.

"You are too annoying" said Kafka, putting on her gloves when she realized there were no more dishes to clean.

The purple-haired woman left the kitchen, with her velvet coat swaying with her steps, and the sound of her heels touching the ground echoing in the otherwise silent corridor.

'In the end, she forgot about it too' thought Keith.

Because Kafka's last words had been a lie.

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Kafka was, without a doubt, a special woman.

She had the power to hypnotize and plant suggestions in everyone who heard her words, and that ability earned her the nickname of Spirit Whisperer, but that wasn't the only thing that made Kafka special.

She had an utter disregard for life that many people would consider bone-chilling.

Since she was young, Kafka had been exposed to the frailty of life, and knew how easily that brilliant light could be snuffled.

A gunshot, a word, a mere slip, or just an accident.

There were countless reasons why a person could die, so why care about the reason at all?

If a person didn't die now, they would die tomorrow, or the day after.

The way a person died didn't matter at all, because there were too many for anyone to care.

But this didn't mean she couldn't appreciate life.

She wasn't uncaring towards life, because people's lives had a meaning.

When a person died, the world around them shook, even if the ways in which it did would vary depending on the person.

If a 'good' person died, the world around him would lament his departure, if a 'bad' person died, the world would rejoice.

In the end, there were no 'good' and 'bad' people, the world was a scale of greys.

So while Kafka cared about life, she didn't care about death.

If a person needed to die, she didn't mind being the one to deliver death to him or her, because that person would have died anyways.

But she refused to kill those who didn't deserve to die, because their lives had meaning in the world around them.

It was pretty obvious to her, a clear notion that everybody should be able to see and understand at first glance, but Kafka was a smart woman.

She knew that what was obvious to her, was terrifying for the rest of the people who couldn't understand it.

They saw her cold-bloodedness as a show of psychopathy, and her ideas as the ravings of a crazy person.

She didn't mind killing, so people feared being killed while being next to her.

All because they didn't understand how caring Kafka was about life.

But Kafka didn't mind, even if this horror she saw in others' faces made her start to hide her own thoughts, creating a fake small smile that quickly turned into her default expression.

She had been offered an opportunity to reach her goal when she joined the Stellaron Hunters, and she was willing to walk that path alone.

She enjoyed the screams of dying people, but not because of what people thought.

Killing didn't bring joy to her, approaching her goal did.

Screams of agony and last breaths did nothing to shock her, she didn't mind death after all, but with every scream she was getting closer to her final goal.

How could she not enjoy that? But all she received were horrified looks from those next to her, who saw her small smile as a sign of lunacy.

But, once again, Kafka didn't mind, she had her goal after all.

And yet... she found herself caring about what one person thought.

A 'person' she had seen on her home planet before leaving it for good, a person who had been with her from the start, when she chose a new goal for herself, and a person she met when she decided the future she wanted to have.

She didn't care about the future as such, but there was something she wanted to see, she wanted to live in that present.

Keith had been, speaking honestly, an annoyance. He was brash, loud, and annoying overall, but he was also smart and comprehensive.

Kafka's back-and-forth with him had been exhausting, but his insightful remarks from time to time made Kafka stop and think, helping her understand a lot of things, and improve herself in ways she wouldn't have been able to without Keith's presence.

This was the start of a fruitful relationship, where Kafka went out of her way to talk with him, and even tolerate Keith's attitude, even if she herself found herself inwardly laughing sometimes, but Keith replied to Kafka's attitude, and the amount of serious talks they had increased, and Kafka had to admit she enjoyed them.

She always found herself pondering about what Keith tried to say, and often found herself thinking about points she had not seen before.

She was quite different from Keith to begin with, and their ideals often clashed with each other, but there was one thing that made this friendship prosper possible, and it was Keith's attitude.

If Kafka had found herself colliding against a steel wall, she would have quickly abandoned it. Nobody liked to be ignored and dismissed after all, but just like Kafka did, Keith also listened to her, and often, much to Keith's displeasure, he found himself admitting that the purple-haired woman was right while he was wrong.

This made Kafka realize that she could have a deep conversation with Keith, explain her points, and exchange ideas with him, because no matter how foreign her thoughts could be, Keith would always listen calmly and discuss later.

Of course, more often than not, they found themselves unable to agree, but it was alright.

Both Keith and Kafka were smart adults, and knew that agreeing on everything was not only impossible, but foolish.

As long as 2 people talked, there would be discrepancies, because no 2 people would ever be the same but this made Kafka trust in Keith, at least enough to bring some sensitive topics into their discussions, and yet, there was still a barrier inside Kafka.

Because she knew how easily misunderstood her attitude towards killing could be, and Keith was not only the cornerstone of their plan, but someone she considered the closest friend she had.

She had a lot of fun with Stelle and enjoyed her company, but it was Keith the one she found herself relying on.

And this wall was further strengthened when she saw Keith's naked horror at killing someone. She had seen Keith's dismay and sadness at taking a life, which scared her.

She knew how much Keith hated killing, and yet, it was an inseparable part of her life. As long as she wanted to keep fighting for her goal, she would need to keep killing, and she feared that Keith would eventually repudiate her for that, so she started moving independently.

Since that mission, she hadn't left with Keith in another task even once, because she didn't want Keith to see her glee not at killing, but at approaching her goal.

She knew that Keith was quickly changing, and she suspected that Keith had started to have an inkling of what other people felt, even if he himself wasn't aware of that.

What would happen if he sensed her joy?

No, that couldn't happen.

So Kafka started moving independently, as she didn't want to gamble, and talking with Keith about this was not a good idea in Kafka's mind.

And yet, disaster struck again, as over the next year, Keith had changed a lot.

He wasn't the same intelligent man with childish behaviour, he had turned into a serene one with mischievous ideas that when he felt exaggeratedly happy turned into someone with devious ideas.

Kafka also sensed how much anguish Keith was in, she was a smart woman after all, and far more sensitive than the crude Stelle, but she also knew she couldn't do anything to help.

And yet, she couldn't help but resume talking with Keith again, due to the serene and calm behaviour the new Keith exuded, but Kafka had to admit, that she also missed their talks.

Much to her surprise, when she started having these talks with Keith again, she often found herself losing.

Or maybe, they both lost.

Keith exhibited thoughts that she couldn't refute against, but neither made him right.

They were vague thoughts Keith himself didn't have the answer for, and more often than not, the discussion ended with an open question Keith made himself.

But once again, Kafka couldn't help but like this even more. Not only did she feel her thoughts and ideas challenged, she even felt how along these conversations, they were both advancing at the same time.

Of course, differences still appeared, and to the open questions Keith made himself, both of them gave different answers shaped by their experiences, but Kafka enjoyed it.

In a life of murder and danger, most hobbies lost their meaning after being faced with such intense emotions, and more often than not, people like Kafka ended up looking at themselves as if there was nothing else in their empty lives.

And questioning herself like she did with Keith was the best way, but Kafka knew that as much as she enjoyed their conversations, Keith enjoyed them even more.

Or maybe, they helped him.

Kafka sometimes got the sensation that Keith was losing sight of who he was, so these discussions helped him understand himself a bit better, which had its effects pretty quickly.

Keith was not as irascible as before, and his bad mood recovered a lot.

Kafka had been told by Elio everything Keith told him, so she was aware of not only Keith's mood, but also his fears.

So she now had another reason to talk with him.

As peculiar as Kafka was, she was still human, and humans were social creatures.

Kafka's opportunities to help others didn't appear that easily, so helping Keith while enjoying herself soon turned into a very important part of her life.

The more they talked, the more comfortable they felt, and Kafka found herself hesitating.

There was still a barrier inside her, created by her fear of Keith rejecting her attitude towards death.

But Keith was a lot calmer now, so Kafka thought about bringing it up, but Keith's horrified face looking at his bloodied hands always appeared in her mind.

So she decided to leave it aside, and enjoy what she had now.

A year passed like this, and Kafka's hesitation grew with each day. She wanted someone by her side, but as long as that wall was still there, there would always be something separating her from the rest of the people.

She liked Stelle a lot as a friend, but the rubbish-obsessed woman was not someone Kafka thought was able to understand her.

Blade might have, but Kafka knew the black-haired man had his own problems.

...

Or maybe, she just wanted to be Keith the one to understand her.

Keith had been by her side from the start of this voyage, the one she thought of as the closest person to her, and the one she enjoyed herself the most with.

She wanted to share everything inside her with him.

A realization that Kafka didn't notice herself, but someone else did.

It happened a day when she had been looking for Keith, only to find him about to be skewered by a black sword. Suddenly, emotions she herself didn't know were able to show themselves.

Fear.

She found out that she didn't want to lose Keith. She knew the meaning of life, and yet, the fear she felt when she saw Keith about to die was something her notions struggled to explain.

Had she been a little calmer, she would have realized that Keith wouldn't die, at least not because of that sword, but her fear spoke for her.

"MOVE!!"

She used her ability with a strength she herself didn't know she was able to, and amidst an agonizing pain in her whole body, she smiled seeing Keith somewhat surviving the attack.

She woke up, and felt herself consumed by an irrational anger at Keith.

Why had he put himself in that situation? Maybe, Kafka herself hadn't wanted to look at the reason behind such feelings, but Stelle quickly made her confront them.

The first thing Kafka had done after Stelle left was to look at the recordings.

She felt helpless at seeing Blade's naked despair when he fought Keith, and knew that she had been missing something in the fight.

She also saw Blade's expression transform into a determined one that didn't belong to the bitter man seeking death, but the general he once was.

But all those thoughts disappeared from her mind the moment she saw herself entering the room.

Her past self's face had contorted into one Kafka couldn't believe belonged to her.

Widened eyes showed horror, a slightly open mouth trying to say something to stop what she was seeing, and a pale expression that revealed her fear.

'That's my face' realized Kafka, who was forced to confront her own emotions.

If the woman in the recording showed fear, it meant she herself had felt it, which raised a few questions, ones Kafka frowned trying to answer.

'I was scared about losing a friend', 'I reacted on instinct seeing an ally about to die', 'It's love'.

All empty answers that were useless to Kafka.

She didn't want to find an answer that would reply to those questions with mere words, she wanted to find the reason behind those emotions.

She couldn't give a firm answer, but that didn't mean she left empty-handed. She now knew that Keith was quite important to her, maybe more than what she had expected.

So she promised herself to keep thinking about it, along with another thing.

How to tear down that damned wall.

But, surprisingly, it had been Stelle the one to help her once again.

She knew Stelle's purpose in leaving her alone with Keith, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes inwardly.

Obviously, she knew what Stelle thought she felt, and couldn't help but sigh in exasperation.

'You love him', was an easy thought to have if Stelle saw that recording, but Kafka knew it wasn't love, at least not yet.

Maybe in the future, but Kafka was sure that as long as that wall was still there, a wall only she knew about, nothing like love would ever sprout inside her.

'Do you disapprove?' that was the whispered question Kafka posed towards Keith.

A question that did little to explain what she wanted to know, but once again, Keith had proven to be wiser than her with his reply, telling her maybe, only maybe, that wall had also been seen by someone outside it.

Even if Kafka's worries about her thoughts hadn't been directly addressed, Kafka was able to read between the lines.

'I trust you.'

A single sentence that showed Keith's posture on this topic.

As long as Kafka stayed true to the woman she was now, Keith would always stay by her side.

'I wouldn't disapprove of someone working hard for her goals.'

Once again, a single sentence that showed that even if Kafka hadn't voiced it, Keith understood her thoughts pretty well.

And as such, the wall crumbled.

Keith had been aware of Kafka's thoughts, and had shown his stance about them, one based on trust of who Kafka was.

So...was there any meaning in that wall if Keith had already looked at what was inside?

In the end, the hammer that destroyed the wall hadn't come from the inside, but from the outside.

'You are annoying' is what Kafka said before leaving.

One that showed the purple-haired woman's feelings, because she was a smart woman.

How could she not know that Keith would discern her lie?

So Kafka left without looking back, with confusion in her head.

She had worried about that wall for such a long time, and now that it had crumbled, she herself didn't know what was inside of it, and yet, when she lay down in her bed that night, only a small smile was seen on her face.

A true smile.

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"Now" Keith spoke with a clap of his hands to an empty room. "What to do about you 3."

But no answer came.

"Oh, I know" Keith kept talking alone. "I know you are not hiding, at least not near. But you are definitely there."

Once again, no voice replied to him.

"Stelle was the 'brain' of this, even if I find it an insult to call what she has in her head a brain" continued Keith. "And bribed or just convinced Silverwolf, promising her some blackmail material against Kafka. And Firefly just got strong-armed into it, so in case you were discovered I would be more lenient on you."

Keith knew that as a matter of fact, even if he wasn't Elio.

"So tell me" said Keith, who disappeared from the place he was in, and seemed to teleport in front of a camera. "What should I do with you?"

And in front of a big screen in a dark room, 3 people screamed in fear seeing a pair of deadly-looking purple eyes staring right at them.

"I told you this was a bad idea!" shouted Firefly, who just like Keith had said, had been strong-armed into spying on both of them through a camera in the kitchen.

"You told me they wouldn't suspect" accused Silverwolf with a glare towards Stelle.

"How could I know Keith was that smart and untrustful towards us?" asked a dismayed Stelle.

"He distrusted you, not us!" countered Silverwolf with an angry shout.

"You were on board with this just as I was" Stelle defended herself, glaring back at Silverwolf.

"Hmm, girls" Firefly nervously said, but the other 2 were too busy blaming each other.

"You only told me I would be able to get some safety measure against Kafka's punishments!" shouted Silverwolf. "And now Keith is going to make us live through hell."

"Heh, please" Stelle scoffed at that notion. "As if he could do anything."

"Girls" Firefly's voice was once again drowned by the discussion between the other 2.

"You are only fearful because he is the one who cooks for you" smirked Stelle, looking triumphantly at the shorter girl.

"I guess that the time has come, your brain turned into trash too" retorted Silverwolf. "Even if you can fend off Keith, which I doubt, can you ignore the crazy doctor?"

"....shit" muttered a pale Stelle, who realized once again why Keith was the most powerful person here.

It wasn't because of his strength, which was quickly growing, or his intelligence, which was quite high.

It was because he had the maniac monster by his side.

"Girls!" Firefly shouted, and finally the other 2 looked at her.

"Firefly, please, we need to plan" said Stelle with a frown. "So please shut up."

"STELLE!" shouted Firefly, which alarmed the other 2. "Keith is not in the kitchen."

....

Knock knock

""AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"" Silverwolf and Stelle screamed at the same time, which also scared Firefly.

"Hellooo" said Keith with an evil smirk, opening the door.

"H-How did you open the door?" asked a fearful Silverwolf.

"I have all the codes from this base" replied Keith, entering the room and closing the door behind him. "Including your door."

And the sound of the lock activating made the 3 women tremble in fear.

"T-That's a breach of privacy" complained Silverwolf.

"Amusing to hear that" said Keith with a villainous expression, looking at the numerous screens in the middle of the room. "Coming from one that not only spied on us through a camera, but has a display of everything going on the base except the bathrooms."

"I-" Silverwolf paled even more, as blood drained from her face in fear, but had to admit that the one breaching everyone else's privacy was her.

"And you" said Keith, looking at Stelle. "Y-"

"Not the mad scientist please!" Stelle, like the shameless person she was, immediately begged for mercy. "Anything but her!"

"She is not in the base" said a deadpanning Keith.

"Heh, then walk off" Stelle stood up with a confident look, making her gaze clash with Keith's.

"She arrives tomorrow"

"Please! Not her!" and Stelle's confidence disappeared. "I even gave you a chance to stay with her alone!"

"I don't know why would that be an excuse for you to spy on us" commented Keith, raising an eyebrow at Stelle.

"It's not" explained Stelle with an energetic nod. "But a good deed cancels a bad one."

"Still, why would be me being alone with Kafka a good deed?" asked Keith with as hake of his head. "If I wanted to stay alone with her, I would just go to her room, or ask her to come to mine."

"It's all about the mood" interjected Silverwolf, who knew that if Stelle was pardoned as the main culprit, she would be let go with a small slap on her wrist.

"Do you even know what mood is?" asked a weirded-out Stelle looking at the short silver-haired girl. "You?"

"What the hell, I'm with you!" shouted Silverwolf, wondeirng how couldn't Stelle be unwilling to work as a team even in this life-or-death situation.

"Then try to help, not make everyone laugh" countered Stelle with a scoff.

And the 2 of them kept arguing, ignoring the other 2 people in the room.

"Sorry" muttered Firefly, looking at Keith.

But a wink told her that Keith wasn't angry at all, he was just messing with the other 2, which made Firefly sigh in relief.

"Enough" said Keith, stopping the fight. "Silverwolf, delete the data."

"Okay." Seeing a path to escape, Silverwolf readily complied, and deleted the recording she had been saving to get out of one of Kafka's punishments.

"Silverwolf" but Keith insisted, this time using a solemn expression he didn't usually wear. "Delete everything, I'm not playing around this time."

"...okay" nodded Silverwolf again, realizing that Keith was serious this time.

"Don't spy on anyone from now on" continued Keith, looking at both Silverwolf and Stelle. "I don't mind if you record me making a fool of myself in the kitchen, my bedroom or the training room where I get pummelled by the grumpy man. But you should know that there are private moments that should stay that way."

Stelle had the decency to look at the ground with a red face, but Keith hadn't ended.

"This is our home" said the purple-haired man. "Even if we all come from different places, this is the place we all return to. We deserve to be relaxed here, and be allowed to feel safe. If you keep spying on what you know are private conversations, that feeling of safety will evaporate, and our home will be nothing more than a simple place we sleep in."

"Sorry" muttered Stelle, understanding what Keith was saying.

"If you understood it, it's enough" said Keith with a small smile, turning around and unlocking the door. "But you are still seeing Ruan Mei, so be ready."

"No, please!!"

"So sleep well" said Keith with a smirk through a gap left on the door. "Because it might be your last time."

Clack

And the gap disappeared, taking with it Stelle and Silverwolf's hopes.

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