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“Diluc, do you have a moment ?”
It’s a quiet night at the Angel’s share when Jean decides to walk in. She is followed by Lisa, smiling one of her bright and soothing smiles. The man they are looking for is busying himself behind the counter, and for a split second Jean wonders if he’s going to pretend like he hasn’t heard them, but against all worries he actually bothers raising his head from the glass he’s cleaning and giving them a tired look before answering.
“No. What’s up ?” he says, tone objectively hostile but to the acting grand master, somehow more cooperative than expected. It’s late, and the bar holds a peculiarly drowsy atmosphere tonight, which Jean doesn’t know how others ever grew accustomed to. Her senses feel muted by the soft orange glow of the lanterns, which only amplifies the loud stream of thoughts in her mind.
Lisa had been kind enough to accompany her here, more than aware of the tense situation between them—not that Diluc appreciated the librarian more than the Favonius knights, but he had the decency to remain civil in her presence. She had that ability to get people to calm down around her, which Jean knows she will need for the upcoming conversation. In fact, the acting grandmaster had been nursing a headache since early morning in anticipation, and found it foolish.
The man standing on the other side of the counter is no stranger; Jean knows him better than most people. He isn’t that scary to her either, she knows her own proficiency in battle surpasses his (it has to, or how else could she have ranked higher than him in the past ?), but more importantly she is convinced that he isn’t a bad person. Monstadtians agreed with her most of the time, but they were quick to dismiss his actions in favour of other more explosive ones like that vigilante’s much to her disappointment.
At least, she disgruntledly notes before speaking again, Diluc was more appreciated in town than the guy she needed help with right now, who had been causing trouble even by not being present at all. A miracle maker, but in the bad sense.
“You must’ve heard that Kaeya has been out of town for a while now.” Jean slowly begins, sitting down at the bar. Lisa is quick to follow along, smile not leaving her face though significantly hardening.
“What of it ?” Diluc snaps back, pulling two empty glasses and pushing them over before filling them with an unknown wine. Not without frustration, the acting grandmaster notices that he had locked his gaze to his task, refusing to face either of them.
So she takes a glass once he is finished filling it, and raises it to her face. “He was supposed to be back a week ago, actually. We have stopped receiving missives from him.”
The wine is a bit hard to swallow after her words, and it becomes even harder when Diluc’s expert hand wavers while closing the bottle. He pauses for a moment, seemingly processing the information as his frown deepens.
“What of it ?” he then repeats, shoulders artificially rolling backwards in an attempt to look unbothered by the news. “I don’t see how that’s supposed to affect me. Why not send one of your knights to go clean up after him ?”
At that she hears Lisa sharply inhale next to her, hiding her falling smile behind her glass. Her own fingers had tightened around her still full glass but she doesn’t let it affect her—the harsh words were old news. Though an instant passes in which she mourns all the times Barbara supported her, which she took too much for granted. A part of her thoughts turn to wherever Kaeya himself was right now, and she wonders if he’s thinking about whether Diluc—his big brother—was proud of him or not.
The wine is bitter in her throat, mixing with bile. “I just thought you deserved to know is all. I’d be interested in knowing what my younger sibling was up to, if I were you.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Diluc’s voice is icy cold, pulled from the bottom of his throat. His red eyes somehow scream otherwise, shining aggressively in contrast to the Angel’s Share’s soft atmosphere. “Besides, I’m an only child.”
“Right, I forgot. My apologies.”
Jean knows she sounds just as exasperated as she looks, and doesn’t find the strength to care anymore. Without the cavalry captain around her work had quite literally doubled, especially once the deadline of his mission was passed without any trace of a report on the way. She had sent a few missives during the last week, each more aggressive than the last, hoping that shaking some sense into him would get him to finish his work and come back quicker but—the missives had either come back after a day, or gotten no replies at all.
She hoped she could get Diluc to send one out, knowing it would elicit a reaction (good or bad, that was up to said man) out of Kaeya without a doubt, but that wasn’t going to happen. So she had sent Amber to follow his footsteps into the wolves’ territory, knowing she would find whatever had taken place soon enough.
The awkward silence was still stretching out, and none of them seemed to have the motivation to end it, so they were doomed in the tense air. It would have been impolite to not finish her drink, Jean knows it, so she makes quick work of it and hopes Lisa follows suit. She admits defeat, and just wants to go home now. Kaeya would show up soon enough, annoying as always, and she would severely punish him for making her worry before dumping a bunch of work on his whiny ass.
That’s exactly how it would play out. Jean doesn’t see—no, refuses to see any other option.
Right as Lisa nods, gesturing to her empty glass and they both get up, a chair gets knocked down somewhere in the bar. That gets Diluc’s attention as well. None of them can see that corner of the bar, as it is engulfed in darkness but Jean can blurrily make up the outlines of a man pulling up a fallen chair.
“Sir ? We are closing.” The redhead says from his spot, going back to cleaning glasses. Jean is still puzzled somehow—she is almost certain the bar was empty save for her, Lisa and Diluc—but again the corner was quite dark, and maybe the man had been here for a while.
The man who emerges out of the darkness soon enough, covered from head to toe with water. The man, who is standing a bit unsteadily, hair uncharacteristically untied and cascading on his shoulders, his only visible eye wide in shock ? fear ?
And Jean feels her own stomach drop in surprise. Next to her Lisa lets out the smallest gasp, but Diluc doesn’t even raise his head. Did he not ? Did he not see who was before them ?
“Um. I’m sorry ?” he finally speaks, getting Diluc’s head snap up so fast Jean fears his neck would break, red eyes growing big. “...Hello ?”
“What the fuck are you doing here?! Wait no—how the fuck did you get in ?!” the bartender exclaims, slamming the glass he was cleaning on the counter. The soaked man winces, bringing both hands to his chest in protection.
“I’d actually—like to know that—” he stutters—he stutters ! the situation was getting more and more grotesque by the second.
Diluc freezes again, before walking out from behind the counter with a towel. “Well don’t just stand there !! You’re-you’re dripping all over the floor !!”
“Ri-“ Kaeya Alberich, missing cavalry captain, is interrupted in his words as a towel is flung right at his face. All three of them watch as he pulls the material over his head slowly, expression distraught. Another beat of silence passes as he rubs his hair, then gets the fabric around his neck, slightly trembling. The towel remains dry. He remains soaked.
“Where were you ?” Jean finally manages out, shaking the shock off her. After dull confusion a burst of anger overtakes her, worry burning to a crisp under growing fury.
Kaeya steps back once again, though keeps silent. There is something about his posture that makes a hundred thousand red alarms blare in Jean’s head and it feels wrong. It feels more wrong than the water continuously dripping down his face and more wrong than the fact the towel stays stubbornly dry on his shoulder. But what makes her stomach churn the most is that he isn’t smiling.
His face had been a mask of pure terror since the second he appeared, and didn’t seem inclined to warming up soon. “Kaeya.” She tries again, this time softer. “What is going on ?”
“I—I don’t know. Jean—Jean I don’t—I don’t know.” He wheezes, hesitantly juggling with words. One of his hands makes its way up to his neck, where it stays clamped around his throat. As he stares at her, a sort of strange realization washes over his face, and his visible eye slowly dulls. The lilac pupil dilates, he stumbles back—
That’s the moment Diluc chooses to move, taking a fast step towards the soaked man. He looks exasperated, though there is most definitely something more because when he speaks, his voice is heavy. “Come on, you can’t just stand there dum—”
Diluc’s hand, which had reached to grab his brother, goes right through his wrist.
Jean feels her heart drop to the very bottom of her stomach, bile exploding in her lungs. Dread creeps up her spine, going faster by the second as Diluc stubbornly reaches again, passes through without touching, without being able to grab Kaeya and eventually stops, eyes wide and face flushed. His breath is shaky.
“I think,” the wet man starts carefully, looking at his palm, “I think I’m dead.”
“Don’t be stupid.” The redhead immediately snaps back, though panic is seeping through his tone. “You’re holding a goddamn towel, you can’t be dead !” Jean tries to push back how out of breath he sounds because she feels the same way, her heart stammering faster and faster.
“Ghosts are often capable of interacting with objects but not living things.” Lisa says, slowly. She too sounds defeated, gently walking up to Kaeya, and raises a gloved hand.
The glove makes contact with his cheek, and the momentum of the action seems to break something in the man because his face scrunches up, crumbles, and he hiccups. Jean’s heart shatters. He still raises his hands, trying to grab hold of Lisa’s arm but his fingers pass through the naked flesh, and he instead wraps them around himself, exhaling quietly.
“I can’t feel your cheek through the glove.” The librarian whispers, her own face pinching up in pain. “Sweetie...I’m so sorry.”
Kaeya makes a weird broken noise after that, pulling himself away from the gloved hand which looks unchanged, just as dry as before, and he falls into a chair, burying his face in his hands. None of them know what to say then, because there is a dead man in the room with them but he isn’t a corpse—he is breathing and crying right in front of them. Lisa simply crouches down next to him, keeping her hand on his knee, silent.
Then Diluc lets out a choked scoff. “Dead ?? Don’t make fucking laugh. How did you even die ? When ? This makes no sense, we would’ve been told about this !” he roars, each word louder than the precedent as he paces around the room.
“Well, he has been missing for a week—”
“It’s been a week ?” Kaeya interrupts her weakly. “I’ve been dead for a week ?”
The words are heavy in Jean’s chest, constricting in guilt. “No. Maybe. We don’t know yet. What’s the last thing you remember ?”
“Um.” Lisa is rubbing soothing circles on his knee but he still looks terribly distraught, passing a hand through his hair and stopping at the realization that it isn’t tied. “I think I was fighting abyss mages. Or something. Two of them were hydro so they made this huge water bubble and—”
He abruptly stops, unable to continue. So Diluc picks up for him, hands clenched at his sides. “You were fighting how many abyss mages at once ??” No answer is given, he takes a threatening step forward. “How. Many.”
“I don’t remember !! I don’t know !!” Kaeya yells this time, getting up briskly. The chair almost topples over, but Lisa catches it. “All I know is that there was a water bubble that grew and grew and grew and I couldn’t—I couldn’t get out of it—I think.” His voice dies out at the end of his sentence, as he brings up his fingers to his neck before he quietly mumbles, “Am pretty sure I drowned.”
Jean has heard many things about death by drowning and frankly, none of them are pleasant. From tales of people who struggled against water which steadily filled their lungs as helplessness filled their head, to the fact that they would be conscious through it all—she wants to run up to the soaked man and hug him. She feels it would be selfish but she needs to give comfort because otherwise, she cannot give anything else to him and that would be inacceptable.
Then it strikes her that she...is too late. Too late to give anything to him because he is dead. He shouldn’t even be here, and oh Archons, little Amber is about to discover his body isn’t she ? Swallowing down bile, Jean sits back down at her stool, rubbing her chin. Looking quite uncomfortable too, Kaeya forces out a pale smile on blue lips. “It’s not too bad, is it ? I mean it looks like you’re all still stuck with me so, you aren’t losing anything !” he then makes the most pathetic attempt at a chuckle, his throat cracking down.
“Kaeya, you’re dead !!” there is a hint of hysteria in Diluc’s tone, and it’s more than justified.
“Well, we don’t exactly know that. What we do know however is that I’m not gone, so what if my physical body is deceased ! I’m still here.” He aggressively points to himself, almost pouting like a child. “I’m right here. Stop complai-“
“You’re not here !!!” Diluc explodes for what is perhaps the tenth time in five minutes, his vision flaring dangerously at his hip. The blue haired man takes a cautious step back towards Lisa as the redhead advances, extending his arms. “You’re not here, Kaeya !! You’re dead and rotting somewhere in Tevyat and you have the audacity to pretend everything is fine ?!”
The soaked—no, the dead man blinks, biting his lip. “I never said this was fine, Diluc. All I’m trying to make your dumb head understand is that it’s not as bad as it could’ve been !”
“What could’ve been worse ?!” the bartender’s voice audibly breaks off at the end of his yell, face twisted in pain. Kaeya doesn’t flinch.
“If I didn’t come back.” His voice is freezing, as cold as the vision—wait, Jean feels her throat hitch. His vision wasn’t at his belt, it wasn’t on his clothes—it was gone. As she tries to process the information, said man unhappily laughs, an ugly smirk on his face. “Or no. You’re right, I’m just making things worse by being here !!”
“Kaeya—”
“No, no. No, he’s right. I don’t know how long it’s been since I fucking died but I sure do know none of you actually bothered to go look for me !!” he laughs again, smile now splitting his face in half. “Otherwise you’d know ! You’d know I was dead !! But you don’t ! And that means—”
This time, he is the one stepping forward and making Diluc flinch, though his smile fades, turning bitter. “That means all is well in Mondstadt without little old Kaeya. And...I guess it’s what I’ve always wanted. This does make things better, after all.”
Another heavy pause comes between all of them, and this time Lisa doesn’t reach out. The dead man in the room suddenly does look very dead, his wet hair weighing his head down, expression forlorn. He seems satisfied and furious at the same time, and Jean remembers. Remembers that he has never been and believed he would never become Mondstadtian, and remembers that he’s supposed to be a traitor working for the godless Khaenri’an.
Jean remembers that by all means she, and Lisa, and most of all Diluc, should hate Kaeya Alberich and want him dead. Now his ghost is standing in the middle of them all, single visible eye twinkling in pain, and yet they all feel nothing but dread.
“Well anyways.” He quietly starts, expression unnervingly passive. “You said Angel’s Share was about to close, right ? I’ll be on my way then. Goodnight to you all.”
Goodnight.
She watches dumbly as he exits the tavern, the scene awfully familiar. As if he wasn’t dead. As if this was just a regular night, after a good round of liquor, after they all spoke about their daily problems and other empty things.
As if he would show up to work fashionably late the next morning, looking still slightly tipsy but ready to do his job with the minimum requirements anyways. As if he still had a tomorrow. As if nothing had ever happened.
“Wait !”
It surprises Jean that she isn’t the one calling out, but Diluc, who had rushed to the door and hastily put gloves on during the endeavour, now capable of catching his brother’s wrist. Kaeya doesn’t move, his entire silhouette a bit blurry now that the door was open and Mondstadt’s street lights illuminated the bar. She still sees him cock an eyebrow.
“I thought we were done here. I was going to go...somewhere.” his words don’t even feel like they belong to him anymore, detached from one another. However he makes no move to pull back or leave.
And Diluc—almost looks like he isn’t breathing anymore. His knuckles are turning white from gripping so hard but Kaeya looks unbothered—could he even feel it ? The redhead inhales deeply once, twice; his entire body is trembling.
Finally, it’s Kaeya who breaks the silence. “Dearest brother,” he is quiet, Jean can barely hear his strangled voice, “I’m more than glad to leave knowing it’s what you wished for. And you didn’t even have to dirty your hands in the matter; honestly I’m...” he trails off, unable to finish. Then he swallows, and smiles the most wrong smile of them all. “I’m glad.”
“I never wanted you dead—fuck, none of us ever wanted you dead !” from this angle, Diluc’s face is obstructed by bright red hair, but his wavering voice is enough to make Jean’s heart shatter. “You’re here for a reason, right ? So you can’t—you can’t go. You can’t. Please.”
“I’m sorry.”
Something clicks in place. Kaeya lets out a wet laugh, that echoes inside the tavern. “From the bottom of my heart. I’m sorry for all the troubles I’ve caused you. Jean—” his eye is staring right at hers with an emotion she hates. “Lisa as well. So much trouble.” The librarian offers him a laugh back, though it sounds more like a fake sob. Jean puts a hand on her shoulder—there isn’t anything else she can do.
“And—Diluc.” A sigh. “If I started to make a list of all things I need to apologize to you for, we’d be here all night—”
“I have time.” Diluc grunts eagerly, throat rough.
“I don’t. I...I don’t have time. I’m not supposed to be here, I...”
“You do. You have time.” He insists, grip somehow tightening. “I don’t care about any god-given-ghost power bullshit you have time to fucking sit down and apologize for all you’ve done. I’m not letting you go otherwise.”
Kaeya closes his eye then, exhaling slowly as if deflating like a balloon. Jean watches in horror when he pulls his arm back to himself with ease, slipping through Diluc’s iron grip as if it was nothing. “I’m sorry.” He repeats, and it sounds hollow. “I’m really, truly sorry. It’s better like this.
“Goodnight.”
And with that, Kaeya Alberich turns his back to them and steps outside into the night. Diluc rushes out after him, shouting his name so loudly his throat goes raw and Jean and Lisa follow suit, all of them finding themselves in front of Angel’s Share, staring at nothing.
Or not exactly nothing. There are a few tables, and a wall, and the road, and little flowers sprouting from between the cobblestones. There is the night sky, full of stars above their heads, and the street nights illuminating crudely the setting around them. There is a cat on a windowsill, curiously observing them.
There is Mondstadt. But there is no Kaeya.
Diluc collapses to the ground, covering his face with his hands and roaring into them in anger and pain and frustration and Jean herself feels a bit weak in the knees. Lisa has her arm around her shoulder, she can feel her skin against her neck, pulsating at a quick pace along with her heartbeats. Dully, she wonders when Amber will find out. She wonders how it’s going to go. She wonders what’s next.
Her head is full of wool, and it’s hard to breathe. This...doesn’t feel right. She doesn’t feel right. An odd impulse to pull all of her hair out hits her, but she is too exhausted to follow it.
“I didn’t even—” somewhere, Diluc hiccups. His voice burns with fury and something else, something akin to grieving maybe. “I didn’t even have the time to call him brother.”
It’s when Jean sees his face covered in bright angry blotches and tears that she realizes that she too is, has been crying for a while now.
It explains why she couldn’t breathe right.
.
When Amber rushes inside her office the next morning, her face flushed and wet, Jean already knows what’s happening. Like a robot, she listens to the young knight’s shaky report, and follows her to the given location.
She doesn’t see his corpse, because she already knows what it looks like. She accepts the condolences, and prepares the funeral.
She wonders who will take his place. Maybe Diluc, a part of her brain offers. She knows it isn’t going to happen. She still decides to ask.
She thinks about contacting Khaenri’an. Then she doesn’t. The name Kaeya Alberich probably means nothing to them anymore, or would mean nothing to them if they learned he was dead. She remembers that he’s supposed to be their saviour. Was. Could’ve been. He never wanted to be.
Klee cries a lot the day of the funeral, hiding her face under her hat. She refuses to go, screaming that Kaeya wasn’t—couldn’t be dead. There was no way. Big Bro Kaeya was indestructible, he never got hurt even when she threw bombs all over the place and promised he’d stay with Klee forever. Jean cries too, because she promised she’d protect Barbara forever as well. She doesn’t know anymore.
Barbara also cries, but quieter. She looks tired, holding Jean’s hand during the funeral, keeping her eyes closed most of the time. Jean knows why. She is thinking about what would’ve happened if the person in the casket was one of them. Jean doesn’t want to think about what it feels like because Klee locked herself up in solitary confinement, and Diluc is barely keeping himself upright.
Then it’s over.
Kaeya’s ghost doesn’t come back, not even from time to time to annoy them. Venti mentions something about not being able to do anything to a soul belonging to a godless and corrupt nation. Diluc argues that Kaeya was Mondstadtian. Venti is unable to respond. Jean wants him to agree with them, but she knows he cannot, and it hurts.
All that’s left of him is a sword, a vision, and a grave. The sword is given to Jean, since she is the only one of his close friends who can use it, but she decides to teach Klee with it instead. The vision goes to Diluc—she doesn’t know what he does of it and when she asks, he says he probably lost it in a vase. The grave belongs to Kaeya still, and will forever.
Some days she goes to visit him, and finds gifts. Expensive bottles of liquor—his favourites, or meat skewers, or drawings made with all sorts of colourful crayons and telling all sorts of adventures. One day there is even a vase, which is bizarre and becomes even more bizarre as nobody seems to want to move it, so it stays and becomes a part of the grave. It’s a bit ugly according to Jean, but she knows he would find it tacky, it was the sort of weird things he’d offer to people to throw them off.
The only thing on the grave is his name, and nothing else. Even though she never wished for him to die—she knows he appreciates this sort of death. This memory is enough for him, even if it’s sometimes too painful to bear. It’s better like this. It fits him, so she hates it.
To make it a bit less painful, Klee orders that they add something underneath it, saying it’s absolutely necessary and that Kaeya would never find peace without it. When Jean mentions it to Diluc, he breaks into such a loud laugh that he ends up crying, but approves nonetheless. Klee is overjoyed.
To this day, the grave says ‘Kaeya Alberich, Mondstadt’s best brother’ and Jean knows that wherever he was, said man was laughing his ass off about it. That was the only victory that ever mattered to him.