#it'll have eimikosara in the next chap lol

[shintorikhazumi]

How To Grow A Family Tree|Chapter 1: Plant A Little Seed Called Love

A/N: Ooh~ My second genshin fic. Please don’t sue me for the bad writing ;-; I just wanna brainrot, yknow? 

I must be an idiot for writing a new fic. I’ll get back to Teyvat sad girls in a bit.

AU where almost everyone’s family who passed in canon is alive. Except Sara’s biological fam. Sorry bby. Oh and maybe Ei’s parents cause who are they. Basically Sara meets the (future) in-laws. Kinda mixed modern fantasy (because they keep their non human traits) stuff ig.

This one’ll be eimikosara yeet~

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

 Chapter 1: Plant A Little Seed Called Love

Sara had never known love.

No, not when she’d been orphaned at an age where she barely remembered a thing. Not when she’d been taken in, only to be constantly shut out of a ‘family’ that could not make it any clearer that they wanted nothing to do with her unless it was to turn her into their profit-earning horse.

When she’d been given a name, she almost thought she’d know love; but even that was a misconception on her part.

Sara did not know love. Not when her father seemed to take pleasure in the constant ‘discipline’ he dished out on her: small slaps on the wrists, kneeling for hours on grainy sand from sunrise ‘til nightfall, shoveling snow, chopping wood, learning all forms of martial arts for hours on end before coming home to study until her candles were all out of wax, leading to her sleeping on the thin mat with equally thin blankets keeping her alive throughout the night.

No, she knew not love. Not when her brothers had spared her no moment of attention, affection, or siblingship. Not when Masahito forbade her from ever using the dojo while he was around and never speaking a word to her ever. Not when Kamaji hadn’t even invited her to his own wedding. Sara was fifteen, for crying out loud, and they had been living in the same house at the time!

(She remembered sobbing silently to herself as she spent the night of the supposed reception alone, poring over high school examination results that her father deemed not good enough and were up for review.)

She knew not love when she noticed them walking in on one of her ‘penalty sessions’ with her father, and felt her heart shatter into shards that tore at her from within when they turned a blind eye and walked away, closing the door behind them.

 Kujou Sara had not known love.

At least not until she’d been adopted into her best friend’s home at seventeen, Ayaka no longer being able to stomach the stories Sara would unwittingly share when she was too tired out to evade Ayaka’s very leading line of questions from time to time. That and Ayaka had caught Sara in a nightmare once, and from what Yoimiya had later told her, the little heiress had turned restless for many a night thinking about Sara’s predicament. She had searched countless ways and tried numerous methods of convincing until her parents finally saw for themselves and agreed that it was too dangerous for Sara to be left in that house.

The Kamisato family had always been disgusted by the Kujous, so much so that they had initially not wanted Ayaka anywhere near the youngest daughter of the clan, even shunning Sara from their door the first time Ayaka had invited her over despite being known as a welcoming and nonjudgmental family.

It could have been an overreaction, but it was just that difficult to give Kujou Takayuki and any of his kin the benefit of the doubt.

But then Ayaka begged and pleaded, and a toothy-grinned Yoimiya tried to bribe them with custom fireworks, and surprisingly, even Thoma quietly requested Ayato and the Kamisato parents to give Sara a chance to just come in, sit with them and… be.

 They should have not been able to trust a Kujou.

But Kujou Sara… she was sweet, and lovely, and an awkward, clumsy little thing. She was overly courteous, spoke stiffly like a soldier, but was clearly very kind. Earnest and genuine, Ayaka knew her parents had fallen in love (if Sara eating at their house three times a week despite the Kujou clan’s known strictness was any indicator. Ayaka did not know how her parents got permission to whisk Sara away, though she was glad they did).

So when Sara showed up at their doorstep at half-past three in the morning, battered and bruised, the skin over her eye bloodied shut; when they had discovered the surprising treasure that was Sara’s heritage, cruelly marred, tattered, and tainted- Ayaka and Miss Kamisato had shed tears at the state of her supposedly majestic wings- the family knew enough was enough.

It took all of Thoma’s power to rip the sword out of Ayato’s clenched hands before the men of the house rushed for the police station to have the Kujou’s apprehended and possibly sentenced to long, long years in hell.

 Her adoption was surprisingly quick, and without much problem, possibly due to the large influence of the Kamisatos in general.

A few hiccups were met on the road, but then… finally, then. Sara knew love.

She knew love the moment she woke up past her usual hellish five-AM wake up call to her new sister who greeted her good morning from the opposite end of their now-shared room, who brushed her crazy morning bedhead before handing her a fluffy pair of slippers, gently taking her by the hand and leading her down the stairs for breakfast.

Kamisato Kayo had once more cried for the child Sara could not be as she tried to tell the girl that it was okay for her to eat at the table with everyone, at the same time, just as they always did when Sara came over for dinners. No, she did not have to ‘serve’ them their meals and wait for them to finish first. No, she was not ‘unworthy’ of seating at the ‘master’s table’.

She tried not to let the young tengu see her tears when she’d been told that her favorite breakfast food was onigiri, and nothing could compare. Well, because she had nothing to compare it to.

Thoma and Kayo had prepared her so many items that morning that Ayaka had complained for Sara that she would get bloated if they kept piling more food onto the overwhelmed girl’s plate.

Yes. Sara knew love when breakfast was mixed with warm miso soup and a mother’s affection.

Sara knew love when each time she’d have to head out to anywhere with Ayaka or Thoma, someone would bid her farewell by the door. When it was Mrs. Kami- her mother (Sara had to get used to that), she’d always be sent off with a lingering hug and a kiss to the forehead for safety.

She always did feel the effect was true, believing it even more every time she was able to return to that warmth unscathed.

 Sara knew love when she finally returned to school and heard no whispers nor rumors about her despite the obvious public trial her formed adoptive father had for more crimes than the ones committed against her.

Maybe it was because someone had kept people’s mouths shut around her, or everything was simply drowned out by the sunshine of Yoimiya’s presence as she tackled her and welcomed her back before taking her to morning archery practice.

 Sara knew love when she finally mustered up the courage to befriend the clever Miss Kuki from her class after much encouragement from Yoimiya and Ayaka. Sara had grown up with an appreciation for dioramas, and how perfect the world in them seemed to be compared to her own shabby and grey one.

When Miss Kuki had brought one such well-crafted piece for a school event, Sara had yearned to befriend her and have her teach a thing or two.

With time and much-needed help, Sara managed to strike up a conversation with the shorter girl, who, by their next meeting, had given Sara a package the size of a shoebox.

Upon opening it, Sara had bolted toward the restrooms, gift caught by the giver, and worry on all her friends’ faces. They had given chase and found her crying in a stall, muttering apologies and thank you’s.

“M-m-my s-sincerest apologies, Miss K-Kuki… I was just a little… overwhelmed.”

Her friends collectively heaved sighs of relief as they waited for her to calm down before returning to the classroom to appreciate the gorgeous diorama of one beautiful crow in the prettiest Sakura garden Sara had never visited. (Shinobu claimed it existed and would take her there someday if she wanted.)

 Sara knew love when she came home and shakily showed her new parents her imperfect test results: a ninety-eight, and got the firmest hug and many, many kisses on the head for it. She was called brilliant, a good child.

“Thank you for working so hard, Sara. We love you.”

Sara cried for the love she got to know.

 A/N: There will be chapter 2 because SARA WILL HAVE A BIG BIG FAMILY, JUST WATCH ME. YES. I’M BITTER ABOUT KAMAJI. NO LOOK, I’M ALL FOR KUJOU SIBLING FLUFF AND SOLIDARITY, and I was super hopeful during Ei’s story quest when we met kamaji. But the times he talked about the “Kujou family” he only kept mentioning his dad or masahito, and never Sara. Like…??? Hello? :<

I’ll probably make a sweeter Kujou fam story in the future.

Ciao for now~

~Shintori Khazumi