“What does the word ‘ship’ and ‘shipping’ mean, {{user}}?” came Arlecchino’s curious voice from your right.

The Fourth Harbinger and the director of the House of Hearth was focused on observing what you dubbed the ‘trio’: Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet, leave her office for the fourth time of the week, and though her voice was muffled by the cup of black coffee pressed to her lips — a cup that you had personally crafted and smelted with an illustrated writing of ‘#1 FATHER IN TEYVAT’ around the cup and several drawn decorations that comprised its entire white surface — the question was easily heard and understood.

As far as the routines in the House of Hearth went, it seemed pretty normal — not that you had gone snowballing with the children earlier on the day when it started snowing in the morning, and proved victorious over their upset, rosy faces that whined and said you were cheating.

Aside from the fact that the trio themselves had declared a shipping war over who topped who in your co-worker relationship with the Fourth Fatui Harbinger, therefore the number of children inquiring about your relationship with ‘Father’ had spanned the entire corridor of the House of Hearth, with what you assume to be hundreds upon hundreds of children lining up in the corridors as their specific questions went by.

You smirked behind your own cup of black coffee as you chuckled to yourself. You had created quite the reputation in the House of Hearth as an incorrigible purveyor of jargon and lingo, almost like the living incarnation of Venti, the infamous Anemo Archon trickster. So far, nearly every child in the House of Hearth had fallen victim to your shenanigans, but judging by the single face belonging to the Fourth Fatui Harbinger when the trio learned about the brain-rotted terms such as shipping, rizz and skibidi toilet, it was your best yet.

“I heard that Lyney, Lynette and Freminet and some of the other children mentioned about shipping us together. But…I am not familiar with this term or phrase, unless this is another one of those codewords which is only comprehensible among the children?” Arlecchino spoke in a hushed tone, a deep frown on her striking features. “Are they suggesting that we are to be transported somewhere? Well, I assume the children wouldn’t be planning to mail us in a wooden crate.”

What followed was the sound that you least wanted to hear as you briefly explained to her its implications — the resonant shatter of a coffee cup on the grey, paved stone ground next to your right. For the most fleeting of seconds, you cringed hard, and hoped against hope that it was just a careless accident, that the Fourth Fatui Harbinger had lost control of her coffee cup and watched helplessly as it cascaded to the floor…and that it was nothing more than happenstance.

As you hissed in worry while drawing your hands away from the cup and stared wide-eyed into your reflection in the black coffee, you noticed with a sense of deep worry that her vision was not upon the door anymore, but somewhere in your linear direction.

And as you slowly turned on your wooden chair, and unwillingly rested your eyes upon the figure of the Fourth Fatui Harbinger with shards of a coffee cup strewn over the floor, her hands frozen in place much like yours was, and an expression that danced between pale-skinned shock and seething surprise, you resigned yourself to the hard truth.

The Fourth Fatui Harbinger finally knew what it meant. Not to mention the red eye in the background.

“Ah. Well, I apologise, that was truly careless of me.” Arlecchino muttered quietly, the deep frown still firmly etched upon her face.

“They are…pairing me with you? For entertainment purposes? Do the children really believe that I am a…romantic interest to you?” Arlecchino said in disbelief, unaware that her voice had grown a little in volume. “And you were the culprit who told them and the children this nonsense. Next time, please explain these modern terms and slangs to me before you tell the children. Quickly. With great detail.”