Chapter Text
The day was moving along, and while I tried to focus on my usual tasks, Yanqing wouldn't stop calling for me. Every time I had a moment to breathe, he was there, demanding my attention in a way he hadn't before.
At some point during the day, while I was handing out the snack tray, he came running up to me, tugging insistently at my pants.
—Ae, come with me —he asked, his sweet tone making it hard to refuse.
I crouched down to his level, smiling softly while still holding the empty tray.
—What’s wrong, sweetheart? All the kids need to eat now. Do you want me to bring you more snacks? —I offered, thinking maybe he hadn’t gotten something from the tray.
He shook his head, grabbing my hand and squeezing it with more strength than you'd expect from a child his size. His eyes shone with a mix of anxiety and something else, as if he needed to ensure I stayed close.
—No... I want you to stay with me —he replied, his tone almost pleading.
I sighed internally, surprised by this newfound dependency in him. Yanqing had always been affectionate with me, but today he was being particularly clingy. Even so, I nodded and stayed by his side during mealtime, which seemed to calm him down a bit. He sat next to me, and though he didn’t say much, his small hand stayed firmly gripping my clothes, as if afraid I would disappear into thin air if he let go for even a second.
However, the other kids needed attention too. It wasn’t long before one of them, a little boy I had met for the first time last week, spilled his juice on the table. Ganyu called me from the other side of the room to soothe the boy while she cleaned up.
—Aether, can you help me with this? We’ve got a little accident here —she said calmly, though the chaos around the spill was clear.
I nodded, starting to stand up to go help, but as soon as I took a step, I felt something clutching at my leg. It was Yanqing, looking up at me with that vulnerable expression, holding onto my pants tightly.
—Don’t go —he said, his voice barely audible but filled with an urgency that rooted me in place.
I looked at him, surprised by his reaction. I didn’t want him to feel insecure, but I couldn’t ignore the other kids either. As much as I loved my son with all my heart, I couldn’t neglect the job I was being paid to do. Even so, I crouched down again, this time trying to speak to him more calmly.
—Yanqing, I need to go help that boy. I promise I’m not going anywhere, I’ll just be over there for a moment and then I’ll come back, okay? —I explained, hoping he would understand.
But instead of letting go, his eyes began to fill with tears, and his grip on my leg grew even tighter.
—No, I don’t want you to go... —he repeated, and I saw his lower lip start to tremble.
I stayed still, unsure of how to handle the situation. I didn’t want Yanqing to feel distressed, but I also couldn’t ignore the job. I glanced at Ganyu, who was watching the scene with understanding and concern. She gave me a small gesture to indicate she could handle the situation. I silently thanked her for understanding without asking questions.
—Alright, I won’t go anywhere —I told Yanqing, softening my tone as much as possible while I picked him up in my arms.
As soon as I did, I felt his small body relax slightly against mine, though he kept clinging to me as if I were his only anchor in that moment. I walked with him to one of the chairs in the room, sitting down with him on my lap. Yanqing buried his face against my chest, seeking refuge in me, while I gently stroked his hair.
I knew children could be demanding sometimes, but this felt different. Yanqing was acting in a way I hadn’t seen before, as if he were afraid of losing me if I moved away. Perhaps, after everything that had happened recently, he felt more insecure than ever. Maybe he didn’t fully understand what was going on, but somehow, he sensed that something had shifted in his world.
—Hey, little one —I whispered, leaning toward him—. I’m here with you. I’m not going anywhere.
He didn’t say anything, but he nodded, snuggling even closer to me. There was something profoundly comforting in the way he trusted me, even though he didn’t yet know the truth. Just being near me seemed enough to calm his fears, and I couldn’t help but feel a quiet joy at the weight of that responsibility.
The rest of the day went much the same way. Every time I stood up or tried to help another child, Yanqing was there at my side, clinging to my hand or leg, insisting that I stay with him. I tried to remain patient, giving him as much attention as I could without neglecting my other responsibilities.
It was clear that something had changed between us since he had started calling me “daddy,” even though he had only done it twice and probably unconsciously. Though he hadn’t repeated it, it was as if, in his mind, that connection had grown stronger, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing me, even for a few minutes. I understood, and while it worried me, all I could do was be there for him, hoping that this sense of attachment would ease with time because it would be a problem for Xiao and Lumine.
Lumine...
I stood up carefully from the small seat in the room, making sure all the children were fine before heading toward the door. They had been busy playing with building blocks, and Yanqing, though still glued to me throughout the day, finally seemed focused on something else. I needed to use the bathroom; my bladder was full.
I had barely taken a few steps toward the exit when I heard that familiar little voice behind me.
—Ae, where are you going? —Yanqing asked, peeking his little head over the blocks.
I sighed internally, unable to stop myself from wondering why my little one was so dependent on me today. I couldn’t recall a single time he had behaved this way before. I turned to him, forcing a smile so he wouldn’t notice my confusion.
—I’m going to the bathroom, sweetheart. I won’t take long, I promise —I assured him, gesturing toward the door with my hand.
Yanqing frowned slightly, his small eyes looking at me as if I had just said something terrible. I watched as his lips pressed into a pout that barely concealed a deep sadness.
—I... I’ll wait here quietly, without making a sound... —he murmured softly, almost as if trying to convince himself that everything would be fine if he did as he said.
I froze, feeling a small knot form in my throat. I didn’t understand where this sudden insecurity was coming from. Yanqing had spent days with me, and while he had always been an affectionate child, I had never seen him so worried about my every move. Maybe he was reacting to something I couldn’t see, or maybe it was just a phase he was going through. But whatever it was, I couldn’t ignore the fact that his concern was affecting me more than it should.
I approached him again, bending down to his level.
—I promise, I’m not going anywhere —I said softly, running a hand through his hair—. I’m just going to the bathroom for a moment, and I’ll be back before you even notice, okay?
Yanqing nodded slowly, but I could still see the glimmer of unease in his eyes. For a second, he seemed to hesitate about whether he should insist on coming with me, but in the end, he stayed in place, his little hands clutching a building block. He looked at me as if what I was about to do was far more important than a simple trip to the bathroom.
—I’ll wait for you... —he repeated, his voice almost trembling.
I nodded and walked out the door, though the feeling of leaving him so uneasy stayed with me the entire way.
I didn’t take long in the bathroom, trying to finish as quickly as possible to keep an eye on my son.
Leaving the bathroom, I headed to the sink to wash my hands. As the cold water ran over my fingers, a question came to mind... Yanqing. Why was he so clingy today? I had seen my little one in need before, but never this intensely, to the point of not giving me even a minute of rest. It reminded me of the times, as a ghost, when I watched over him from afar. Back then, Yanqing only acted this way when something worried him, like when Xiao was late from work or when, for some reason, something made him cry.
But this morning had seemed normal. Xiao had brought Yanqing as usual, and we even had a calm conversation without the usual tension. There had been no signs that Yanqing was upset or uneasy when I saw him with his father. So, what had changed in the last few hours?
I sighed as I dried my hands. I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more behind this behavior. Yanqing didn’t act this way without a reason, but no matter how hard I tried to find answers, I couldn’t come up with any. Besides, I was exhausted too. I hadn’t slept well the night before, with all the thoughts about Xiao, the hug we shared, and the accumulated fatigue from the night spent caring for Kazuha and Haru. It was all starting to take its toll on me.
—I’ve only slept two hours... I’m exhausted.
I rubbed my forehead in an attempt to ease the pressure I felt there. Maybe my lack of sleep was affecting my judgment, making me see things that weren’t there. Even so, I couldn’t ignore that something was off with Yanqing. There had to be another explanation. Maybe something had happened to him at daycare, or perhaps another child had upset him, though that wasn’t very likely. Noelle and Ganyu were always vigilant, and we would have noticed if there were any problems with the other children.
Maybe Yanqing was simply going through a phase. Those thoughts lingered in my mind as I returned to the classroom. I knew small children sometimes developed a sudden need for closeness with one parent or someone they trusted, but it still seemed strange, given how independent Yanqing usually was.
When I opened the classroom door and stepped back inside, all the children were still busy with their building blocks. And there was Yanqing, as always, his little head peeking over the pieces, his golden eyes immediately searching for mine as soon as he saw me come in. The moment he spotted me, a smile lit up his face, and before I could take another step, he was already on his feet, running toward me as if he hadn’t seen me in hours.
—Ae! —he called out, stretching his arms toward me.
I crouched down and lifted him into my arms, feeling his small body snuggle against mine. He hugged me tightly, as if he were afraid I might leave again.
—Are you okay? —he asked me, his soft little voice tinged with worry.
—Yes, Yanqing, I just went to the bathroom —I said, trying to laugh a little to lighten the mood.
Yanqing looked at me seriously for a moment, then hugged me even tighter. I felt his small head rest on my shoulder, and he let out a sigh, as if he felt more at ease now that I was back. My hands gently stroked his back, and I stayed there for a moment, unable to stop myself from wondering again what was worrying him so much.
I couldn’t go on like this all day, but it was clear he needed my presence more than usual. I had to figure out what was going on in his little head, but I didn’t want to pressure him. I decided it would be best to wait until he wanted to talk about it himself. For now, all I could do was be there for him, give him the love he needed, and try to calm his restless little heart.
With Yanqing still in my arms, I approached the table where the other children were playing. Maybe if I stayed close to him for the rest of the day, I’d find a clue as to why he was acting this way. Or maybe, with a bit of luck, his anxiety would fade soon. But something told me this wouldn’t be so easy to resolve.
—Ae, you know? Dad said I’m going to my Aunt Hu Tao’s house today. I haven’t seen her in so long. —My little one swung his feet animatedly as he told me this. I simply held him by his chubby little tummy to keep him from falling.
—Really? I guess your dad must be busy today.
— Yes! He said he had something important to discuss with someone. I don’t know, my dad is veeeery mysterious. — I laughed at the emphasis on "very."
Finally, the time to leave arrived. The moment I had been waiting for all day, not just because it meant the end of the workday, but because Xiao and I would finally have that long-overdue conversation. Xiao had assured me he would be the one to pick up Yanqing, take him to Hu Tao, and that afterward, we would talk about everything we hadn’t been able to discuss. Things between us were better, but there were still unresolved matters we couldn’t ignore anymore.
Yanqing was ready, standing by the main door while clinging to my pants with the same insistence he had shown all day. I still couldn’t understand why he was so clingy today, but I couldn’t deny that a part of me enjoyed it. It was strange that, despite not knowing I am his father, he seemed to need me so much.
Suddenly, Yanqing let go of my pants and ran toward the exit, shouting.
— Dad! — His joy upon seeing Xiao in the distance was unmistakable. I smiled at the happiness on his face and how Xiao effortlessly picked him up, giving him that comforting smile that had always seemed so warm to me.
As I approached, Xiao lifted his gaze, looking at me with relief and something else I couldn’t immediately identify. Perhaps he was as anxious as I was about the upcoming conversation and relieved that I hadn’t left. His eyes didn’t stop following me, and his smile said it all—he was genuinely happy to see me. It was as if he didn’t want me to leave. But before I could take another step closer, something stopped me dead in my tracks.
Yanqing, still in Xiao’s arms, turned his head toward the gate and shouted…
— Mom! — My heart skipped a beat at that word, and my body tensed as I saw who was approaching. Lumine.
I hadn’t seen Lumine in so long, and I certainly didn’t expect to see her today, here, at this exact moment. A wave of discomfort washed over me, like a cold current coursing through my body.
Xiao had seen her too, and I noticed how his expression immediately turned worried. His eyes flicked between Lumine and me, as if trying to gauge my reaction or perhaps silently pleading for me not to leave. I couldn’t move. My feet were rooted to the ground, and all I could do was watch the scene unfolding before me, as though it didn’t belong to my own life.
Lumine was approaching quickly, her expression serene and warm. She hadn’t seen me yet, which wasn’t surprising. After all, she didn’t know I was alive again. How could she? To her, I was still a ghost from the past, a distant memory she had likely left behind.
What hurt the most, however, wasn’t her unexpected presence—it was what happened next. While Xiao continued to watch me, as if trying to hold me back with his gaze, Lumine reached him and Yanqing. Her hand brushed against Xiao’s cheek in a tender gesture, and before I could process what I was seeing, she leaned in and kissed him.
— W-what…?
It felt as if the air had been knocked out of my lungs. My stomach twisted, and for a moment, my entire body froze. Xiao didn’t push her away, though he didn’t respond with the same enthusiasm either.
But that didn’t matter.
What mattered was that I saw it. I saw the person I love being kissed by someone else, by someone who clearly still meant something to him—by my twin sister.
A part of me wanted to turn around and walk away, to disappear before Lumine noticed me, before everything became even more complicated. But another part of me, the part still standing there, wouldn’t let me move. I stayed frozen, watching as Lumine pulled away from the kiss and smiled at Yanqing, gently stroking his little head as if everything was perfectly fine, as if nothing had changed.
And maybe, for them, nothing had changed. But for me, everything had. Xiao was still looking at me, his expression full of guilt or maybe anguish, silently begging me not to leave. I couldn’t say for sure.
The only thing I knew was that, at that moment, I couldn’t face Lumine.
I thought I was ready. But not after what I had just seen. I wasn’t ready.
I wasn’t ready to see her, let alone confront everything her presence implied.
Without saying a word, I took a step back, distancing myself from the scene. Xiao seemed to tense up, but he made no move to stop me. Lumine remained unaware of my presence, completely focused on Yanqing, and perhaps that was for the best. My throat felt dry, and all I could think about was how quickly everything had changed.
My chance to talk to Xiao disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
I didn’t want to cry. Not after everything I had been through, not after believing there was even the slightest chance of reclaiming the life I had left behind. Tears felt useless at that moment. Instead, I resigned myself. I knew I had to accept the reality in front of me: Xiao had moved on with his life in my absence. It had been five years, after all, and no one could expect him not to move forward.
I gathered my things calmly, tidying up the classroom almost on autopilot. I said goodbye to Ganyu and Xianyun as I left, knowing Noelle had already gone. I tried to act normal, smiling as if everything was fine, as if the image of Lumine kissing Xiao wasn’t burning itself into my mind over and over again. They didn’t know what I had seen, and there was no need to burden them with my pain.
When I stepped out of the kindergarten, the sunset was beginning to paint the sky in warm tones, but it did nothing to comfort me. Despite everything, a tiny spark of hope clung stubbornly inside me, irrational and almost pathetic. I walked slowly, hoping that at any moment I would hear Xiao’s hurried footsteps running after me, calling my name. Maybe he’d hug me, maybe he’d tell me everything was okay, that what I saw wasn’t what it seemed. Something like in those cheesy romantic movies we used to watch together at night, cuddled in our bed.
But that hope, as fragile as it was, faded little by little with every step I took. The closer I got to Kazuha and Haru’s house, the more I realized that Xiao wasn’t coming. Not this time. Maybe not ever.
When I reached the door, I unlocked it with the key they had given me, entering the house in silence. I closed the door softly behind me with a faint click, the sound echoing in the stillness of the entryway.
And there, in the quiet of that moment, the image of Lumine kissing Xiao resurfaced in my mind. It hurt, like a stab to the chest, but I refused to let the tears fall. Not now. Not in front of Kazuha and Haru—they already had enough to deal with because of Haru’s illness.
I tapped my cheeks lightly, as if that could chase the pain away or at least hide it well enough that no one would notice. Then, I made my way deeper into the house, looking for Kazuha. I found him in the room he shared with Haru, sitting beside the bed with an expression of concern and affection. Haru was awake, but his face was pale, and at that moment he was leaning over a container, vomiting. Kazuha held him steady with one hand on his back, murmuring soft words I couldn’t quite catch.
—How is he? —I asked softly, stepping closer so as not to intrude too much.
Kazuha looked up at me, offering a tired yet kind smile.
—His fever has gone down, but he’s still really weak —he replied, turning his attention back to Haru, who was now lying back again, visibly exhausted.
I moved a little closer, observing Haru carefully. It seemed like the sickness was affecting not only his body but also his spirit. He looked drained, and the pregnancy only worsened everything. I sat down on a nearby chair, watching silently. Kazuha continued to care for him with devotion, and it was in moments like these that I truly saw how deep his love for Haru was. I had always known, of course, but seeing him like this, so dedicated, was a reminder of what it really means to love someone—of what you’re willing to do for them, even if it means sleepless nights.
I tried to focus on them, on the scene in front of me, on the present reality, but that damn image of Xiao and Lumine kept creeping back into my mind.
Please, make it stop... I hate overthinking things! I hate it!
Lumine caressing Xiao’s cheek, that kiss I couldn’t ignore, now felt like a barrier between what once was and what would never be again. It hurt more than I wanted to admit, but I couldn’t show it.
I should be the one kissing him. I should be the one holding Yanqing in front of everyone without fear, without hesitation, proudly saying I’m his dad... Damn it, I long for all of that.
—If you need to rest, I can stay for a while —I offered Kazuha, trying to push aside my own thoughts before they completely consumed me.
Kazuha looked at me gratefully, though he gently shook his head.
—I'm fine —he said, though his voice was heavy with exhaustion. —But thank you, Aether.
I nodded, knowing I wouldn’t insist further. Kazuha wouldn’t leave Haru’s side, not while he needed him. I understood. I understood all too well what it meant to love someone so much that being apart from them was simply impossible, even when exhaustion weighed you down.
I stayed a while longer in silence, observing, resting my head in my hands as I tried to process everything that had happened that day. Kazuha and Haru needed peace, and I needed a break too, even if just for a moment.
—Water... —Haru’s voice was barely a whisper, but clear enough for both Kazuha and me to hear. —Water... —he repeated weakly, his breathing labored and the effort evident on his pale face.
Every time I looked at him, I realized just how much he was suffering. The discomfort had completely drained him.
Kazuha quickly leaned toward him with that gentleness he always displayed when Haru needed him. He helped him sit up, placing a pillow behind him so Haru could rest his head.
—I’ll get you some water —he said, standing up to fulfill his husband’s request.
However, I stopped him before he could take a step. Something in me, perhaps the experience of having gone through something similar, made me question it.
—Has he been able to tolerate water? —I asked, knowing that in these situations, the last thing you want is to unintentionally make things worse.
Kazuha shook his head, his expression darkening slightly as he looked at me.
—No. He’s thrown up everything he’s tried to drink, even water, —he explained with a heavy sigh. —Baizhu warned me the first few hours would be this difficult.
I sighed, immediately recognizing how complicated this made things. I knew what it was like to not be able to keep even a drop of water down. Memories of my own pregnancy flashed briefly through my mind, of how those days felt like endless torture, constantly running to the bathroom.
—Do you have ice cubes in the freezer? —I asked as an idea came to mind while trying to find a way to help.
Kazuha seemed to think for a moment before nodding.
—Yes, I do. What do you need them for?
I smiled faintly, trying to reassure him. He was already worried enough, and if I could make things even a little easier for them both, I would.
—Wait here. I’ll get them —I said before quickly heading to the kitchen.
I knew how stressful it was to see someone you love in that state, and if a simple ice cube could help alleviate even a small amount of Haru’s discomfort, I would do it without hesitation.
I opened the freezer, finding a tray of ice cubes at the top. I quickly took them out, placing a few in a cup. I returned to the room as quickly as I had left, determined to help Haru feel even a tiny bit better.
—Try giving him these instead of direct water —I told Kazuha as I washed my hands with alcohol to ensure I wouldn’t pass on any bacteria or viruses. —When you can’t tolerate water, sometimes sucking on small ice cubes is easier for the stomach.
Kazuha took the cup of ice cubes and brought it closer to Haru, though his expression showed some doubt. Haru, on the other hand, barely had the strength to react, but when I offered him one of the cubes, he accepted it reluctantly. He seemed so exhausted that any effort seemed too much.
—How do you know this will work? —Kazuha asked in a low voice, watching with concern as Haru slowly sucked on the cube.
—Xiao taught me when I was pregnant, —I replied, memories of those days filling me with both nostalgia and pain. —There was a time when I couldn’t even tolerate water. It was horrible... but sucking on ice helped me stay hydrated without vomiting.
Kazuha nodded, grateful, though his eyes were still full of worry for Haru. I knew what he was feeling. Seeing the person you love in that state of vulnerability breaks you inside, makes you wish you could transfer your strength, your health to them. But you couldn’t. All you could do was your best to make their suffering more bearable.
I stayed silent as I watched Haru slowly suck on the ice cube. I knew it wasn’t a magical solution, that his discomfort wouldn’t disappear in an instant, but at least it would help his body get some hydration, and that was already a step forward.
—This will help him —I said softly, speaking more to Kazuha than to Haru. I wanted to reassure him that he was doing the right thing, that his care and devotion weren’t in vain.
—Kazuha leaned a little closer to Haru, gently stroking his hair without taking his eyes off his husband. Haru, though visibly weak, seemed grateful for the simple gesture, and that, in some way, lightened the tension in the room.
—Get better soon. I need to see you well. —Kazuha’s voice carried a hint of sadness. —I want to hear your sarcastic remarks again and see you smile. —He kissed Haru’s cheek, and in response, Haru closed his eyes, nodding softly.
I stepped back a little, leaving them in the intimate space they shared, feeling I had done everything I could at that moment. Haru was in good hands—the best hands—and Kazuha wouldn’t let anything happen to him. I knew that in times like this, all I could do was offer my support and be present.
I entered my room and closed the door.
I don’t want to cry. Not anymore. It feels like the stage of crying over what was and what will never be is finally fading away. The sadness no longer consumes me as strongly. Now, what I feel is disappointment. Disappointed because, for a moment, I thought maybe, just maybe, things could go back to how they were with Xiao. That we might find a way to repair what was broken. But I get it now. I’ve accepted it: what’s normal for me isn’t the same for him. His normal now includes Lumine; his days revolve around her. And that’s something I can’t change.
I slowly undress, feeling the weight of the day pressing on my shoulders. I’m not hungry, so skipping dinner won’t hurt. Instead, I search my wardrobe for something comfortable to wear. Something soft, a refuge where I can hide for a few hours, away from the noise in my mind. I put on my pajamas and let myself fall onto the bed, feeling immediate relief from the soft sheets against my skin.
My hand slides almost instinctively to my lower abdomen, just below my shirt. I trace the scar from the C-section, that mark I carry as a permanent reminder of what I could never have, of what was taken from me.
—Yanqing… —I murmured into the solitude.
My son. I couldn’t hold him when he was born; I couldn’t cradle him when he needed me most. I couldn’t feel his newborn warmth in my arms or his scent...
But now I have him, though he’s no longer a newborn. Now, I hold him every chance I get, as if trying to fill the void, that chasm between what was and what could have been. Today, he was so clingy, so attached to me... I can’t help but smile at the memory of his little face following me everywhere, refusing to let go, even for a second. Those tiny arms wrapping around me, that small body seeking my protection and love. I never tire of holding him, feeling his weight against my chest with his face resting on my shoulder. Even if he doesn’t know I’m his dad, every moment with him is a gift.
Tomorrow will be another day, but in two days... it’s his birthday. The first birthday I’ll get to spend with him, though not in the way I dreamed. Not as his father—not yet. But I’ll be there, and that’s what matters. I’ll make it special, just as I always imagined I would. I wonder what I should give him, what I could offer to show everything he means to me.
I close my eyes, but my hand remains on my abdomen. I wonder how it would have been if I could have held Yanqing as a newborn. If I could have rocked him in my arms, singing softly until he fell asleep. Would he have been a restless baby? Would my voice have calmed him? Those questions, those "what ifs," keep me company every night, though I try not to let them haunt me.
Now I have a second chance, even if the circumstances aren’t perfect. Even if I can’t yet tell Yanqing the truth, I have the chance to be part of his life. And that’s what keeps me going. The tears don’t come as they used to. Maybe it’s because I’ve already cried all I needed to cry. Or maybe it’s because I know that, even though the normalcy I had with Xiao won’t return, I have Yanqing. And that, in some way, is enough.
—Yanqing is enough for me. —I tried to convince myself, but deep down, I know perfectly well that I still love the man who hurts me so much.