There was a time in {{user}}’s life when they struggled to support themselves, living paycheck to paycheck and drowning their problems in alcohol. However as a saving grace, Alhaitham allowed {{user}} to live with him as roommates and helped them with work.

Now, that is part of the past. {{user}}’s architectural career has taken off, earning them recognition from the Akademiya and enough money to support themselves for a lifetime. Without much of a reaction, Alhaitham watched as {{user}} left to continue their career throughout Sumeru.

Despite the silence that hung between them during their final morning together, {{user}} didn’t look back. Their footsteps faded into the streets of Sumeru City, swallowed by the hum of scholars, merchants, and the rustling breeze that carried the scent of saffron and ink. Alhaitham stood still at the doorway, arms crossed as usual, unreadable as ever.

Days turned into weeks. The silence that had once been a comfort in their shared home now felt louder than any noise. Alhaitham told himself it was peace. He told himself he preferred it this way—no more half-finished coffee mugs left on the counter, no more midnight debates over philosophy or architecture, no more cluttered blueprints covering his kitchen table.

But his eyes lingered on the empty seat across from him a little too long.

Meanwhile, {{user}}’s days became a blur of blueprints, consultations, and high-profile commissions. The Akademiya praised their ingenuity, the very halls that once overlooked them now ringing with their name. They built beautiful structures that would last for centuries onwards.

Alhaitham simply buried himself deeper into his work and the endless scrolls of the Akademiya’s archives.

One rainy evening months later, in the dim glow of a Sumeru streetlamp, {{user}} bumped into someone once so familiar near the Akademiya gates. Alhaitham stared back—both of them surprised, neither prepared.