Big thanks to Acuphoria and Fennikash for motivating me enough to write this, and especially Acuphoria for reading the first draft, even though this is outside of her fandom. Yall are great!

Sometime during the Liyue Arc...

"Albedo."

"Yes?"

Aether's cool eyes drifted up from his book. "Do you think perfection exists?"

The alchemist froze.

The pen clattered out of his petrified hand. It crashed against the ground and exploded. Black sluiced out, ink waves slamming against each other, frothing, snapping at the opposing tides, ripping at opposing currents until blood roared in his ears and-

And the gentle slop of ink on stone was all but soundless.

Albedo forced a swallow. "Why do you ask?"

"You research and create life." The alien Traveller padded over to the bookshelf. Each step was a roll of thunder, rebounding off the walls and icy floor. "Can perfection exist?"

He leaned back. The chair poked at his shoulderblades.

"I would say," he started, "that perfection is a matter of perspective, and that it is a purely human notion. Beyond this, if you were to ask my opinion... no, I don't think it does."

There was more he could say: that perfection was a subject he loathed, that it was an ideal he worshipped, that it was always gnawing at him, nibbling bits and pieces of focus until Albedo was too distracted to-

Suddenly the Traveller was beside him, coiled on a stool. The one Sucrose liked. When had he...

Aether leaned precariously forward. "If other life forms are irrelevant, then I should narrow it down to the human perspective."

Albedo swallowed again. "If I were to consider the human perspective, the inconsistencies and contradictions between their individual perspectives would make the acquired data useless." The words tasted like chalk.

His mentor had asked him the same question, maybe a year before she gave him to Alice. She presented him with different materials, both biotic and abiotic.

Which, she'd then asked him, is the most perfect? Her boots tap-tapped a circle around him. The sound pinged around the inside of his head. Tap, tap, tap.

"This is theoretical, not scientific."

"I'll admit, it's not my area of expertise."

"And if everything were perfect?" the Traveller pressed. He was becoming more animated. His boot bounced against the ground in time with his heartbeats. Tap, tap.

That had been the first answer he'd given Rheindottir.

"If everything were perfect," quoted Albedo, thinking of his mentor, "Then the word 'perfection' would be useless, and we would not be discussing this."

"If you've already crushed my definition, you have one of your own." Aether leaned toward him again, swallowing him whole with those pin-point blue eyes. "Do tell."

Albedo's second try was that none of them were perfect. It was denied immediately with a scornful look to drive the point home.

No, his mentor had snapped. Perfection is pure. Anything built of pure material, alive or not, would be pure, and therefore perfect.

Albedo asked why perfection was pure. Why couldn't it be a mix of something, like sand?

Why does a breeder value a purebred more than a mutt? Why is pure gold more valuable than gold alloys? She punctuated every word with a sharp tap. They're more difficult to attain, and therefore coveted more than the common variety.

Tap, tap, tap. His heart startled at each strike.

"The purest materials in alchemy are seen as perfect," he attempted. His ears rang with phantom footsteps.

Aether receded, settling back on the stool. "Pure," he said finally. "But you can be evil and pure, too."

Albedo's breath hitched. "Yes. I could."

Chalk, said Rheindottir, is the substance in which primal life is molded. Through a certain lense, one could say that those made of chalk are pure.

His prior self had mused over this. Pure life, untainted by morals or boundaries. Was this what perfection was? Was this was he was- or rather- should have been?

"So by your definition, perfection is essentially impossible to create. It's only found..." The braid twisted around and around in his gloved hands. "Naturally."

"A fair conclusion." A hard one to swallow, but a fair conclusion.

"But you don't think that?"

"It's backed by solid logic."

"But it's not what you think." Sucrose's favorite chair screeched in protest as Aether stood. He advanced on him with measured steps. "You've been dancing around the question. I never asked you for a definition. I asked you for an opinion."

He kept moving forward. His shadow fell over the alchemist, flickering and warping and stretching like flame.

"I," said Albedo, "think I have an experiment to-"

He lurched backwards to keep Aether from knocking him over. His leg banged against the desk. Two more steps back, and the alchemist felt cool stone through his coat. Aether loomed, his expression utterly inhuman.

"Albedo, do you think perfection exists?"

Hot anger surged. He shoved Aether away. "Of course perfection exists. How else would a human torture themself?"

Aether staggered back. "So you do have an opinion." 

Albedo became uncomfortable under his unflinching stare. "Yes."

"Well, then. That's settled."

"What's settled?"

His expression became grave. The air practically trembled with tension. "Well, you're pure, aren't you? Perfect?"

Albedo felt his heart drop, his brain grind to a stop. His balance began to fail and he stumbled.

Then a broad grin spread across Aether's face. "Perfect for me"

The Traveller doubled over, laughing.

Albedo exhaled slowly. This whole time- the panic, the tension-charged conversation- it had all been a setup? For a pickup line?

Albedo couldn't stifle his laughter.

Alternatively...

"Albe- nonono! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I was just messing aro- ALBEDO!"

-

Alright, Robin here:

This was the pilot episode, so to speak, of a platonic Aether-Albedo. I wanted to experiment with characters outside my usual scope- mostly feral hothead psychos or paranoid masterminds- and work with editing chapters more. I hope this first chapter, however short, was enjoyable!

Promise most won't be as serious, but I can't promise anything about dramatics. Canon's going out the window if I will it so.

Thank you for reading~!

Robin out!