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Kaeya walks at a leisurely pace up the beach, then back down again, leaving a single pair of footprints in a looping trail. His eyes aren’t on the seaside scenery, beautiful as it is. He's scanning the sand; Kaeya’s gone shell-collecting alone, unable to persuade Diluc to come with him. He thinks back ruefully to the conversation they’d had around an hour earlier, uneasy tensions sparking as they’d stood together on the deserted island.
“Diluc, You’re a man who knows his own mind. So, help me decide — is it seabird-hunting time or seashell-collecting time?”
“...What is that supposed to mean?”
“Come now, Diluc, be nice! Do you really want to stay here and do nothing at all? We might as well find a way to pass the time. I simply thought collecting seashells might be fun. It was last time—although, we were much younger then.”
“I didn’t know you still remembered anything from back then.”
—
Of course Kaeya remembers. It takes him a second to recall it, though. The memory was so fond that he almost doesn’t want to revisit it. He’d rather keep it locked away, corked as he might a vial of cologne. As if it would evaporate.
Diluc had been shorter then, taking two steps for Kaeya’s one just to keep up. They wore matching summer clothes, shorts and loose white cotton shirts, with socks and shoes discarded under stern orders from a maid. That same maid had made a futile attempt at scolding them to stay in sight and not run too far. Her voice had faded into the distance as they ran, kicking up water first accidentally then with joyous intent, laughter drowned out by splashing.
At the end of the day, there’d been some argument. A scraped knee, a spilled drink; Kaeya no longer remembers what. He remembers shouting some angry words—probably ‘I hate you, Diluc'—then shoving, turning, running back up the beach. Sulking next to the maid, sitting on the beach blanket.
Diluc had returned after a time, carefully making his way over the sand. He held the hem of his shirt out to form a sort of makeshift pouch. As he approached, Kaeya could see it was full of seashells.
Diluc clambered up to sit next to him, spread the shells out on the blanket, and told Kaeya he could take the best ones. It was his unvoiced apology; even back then he had had a clumsy way of dealing with emotion. Kaeya was won over without a fight, picking a cracked half of a conch for himself with a lopsided smile. "Can I really have it, Di?" he had said. And then, seeing his brother nod, probably something like, "Thanks so much! I love you!"
They’d walked from the beach that evening hand in hand, bonds so easily mended.
—
Diluc is sitting in the sand with back up against a boulder that offers a suggestion of shade from the early afternoon heat. Kaeya makes his approach.
“I found some shells,” he says.
“I can see that,” Diluc replies.
Actually, he can’t see it. He hadn't even looked up. Kaeya moves to sit down beside him, uninvited. “Well, do you want to see them? I got some good ones, you’ll be jealous.”
Diluc doesn’t bother to reply, and Kaeya wonders if he’s in a better mood than he seemed. Silence is more generous than being told off directly. It’s like an invitation to continue the game. He puts his collected shells down, making a heap in the space between them before dusting the sand from his hands. Diluc tosses a quick wordless glance at the ragtag collection before returning his gaze to the ocean. Kaeya chooses to take it as encouragement. It was probably meant as disapproval. He picks a shell from the top of the pile and passes it over.
“Isn’t this one nice? Bigger than the rest, and it doesn’t even have any chips. Look, it’s shiny on the inside.” Kaeya makes his voice like that of a merchant persuading some lofty maiden to spare his wares a glance.
“And what kind of shell is it, exactly?”
“It’s, uh...” Kaeya trails off for a moment, caught off guard by Diluc’s reply. “It’s pink.”
“It's pink,” Diluc says dryly. “...Not even going to offer me the courtesy of one of your tales?”
Not missing a beat, Kaeya leans in furtively. “Alright, I’ll tell you the truth: I didn’t find this shell today, I brought it. It’s been in my family for generations. You are currently holding the authentic magical treasure of a distant undersea kingdom, obtained by my great-grandfather after winning a battle of wits with a mermaid. An Alberich family heirloom. If you give it to your lover, they’ll never be able to leave you.”
Diluc drops the shell back onto the pile as if it were a hot coal, and Kaeya laughs. “Alright,” he concedes. “Not my best. Next one’ll be better, watch.” He picks another shell at random: It’s tan with dark bands and about as broad as his palm. Kaeya turns it over for a glance before presenting it to his brother.
Diluc takes it, clearly unimpressed. “And I suppose this is a brown one?”
“Well, you’re not wrong.” Kaeya says. “But there’s a little more to it than that. See, this specimen here is called a lions-paw; nodipecten nodosus, a bivalve mollusk that inhabits the shallows of certain regions. They’re quite rare, especially in waters as warm as these. Prized among collectors, actually.”
Diluc turns the shell over in his hand as if trying to make his own assessment, squinting.
“Maybe you took it at first for a common scallop—rookie mistake—but note the defined ridges. And, look, see how rich in color?” Kaeya continues, reaching out and tracing a finger along the shell as Diluc holds it. “A discerning eye would note this as a shell of much higher worth; It would probably fetch around thirty thousand mora back in Mondstadt. You should take it with you.”
Without means to repel Kaeya’s creeping finger, Diluc thrusts the shell back at him. “I liked the mermaid story better,” he says.
“It’s not a story,” Kaeya protests. “The second one wasn’t, I mean.”
Diluc begins to absently pick through the pile of shells with delicate fingers. “The first one wasn’t a story either,” he says. “It was a lie.”
“The difference?”
“...A story is entertaining.”
Kaeya offers a half-hearted shrug in return. “Semantics. Say, I know the real reason you wouldn’t come shell-collecting with me,” he says, mood turning towards mischief. “It’s the same reason you’re so cranky today.”
If Diluc is even listening, he doesn’t show it. No reply.
“It’s that outfit.” Kaeya continues. Diluc stiffens briefly. “You’re too hot under all those clothes. Honestly, Diluc, you could stand to undress a little. Afraid to catch a tan, are we? Or maybe you’re shy? Go on, undo your cufflinks, show some ankle—I promise I’ll behave myself. Can’t have you dying of heatstroke on account of modesty.”
Finally goaded into a response, Diluc rolls his eyes with a huff. “Kaeya, I am a pyro wielder. I do not feel hot. I am hot-” He stops talking abruptly, realizing the humor in what he’s said a second too late. Kaeya’s laughter is explosive and immediate. It takes a moment before he can catch a breath.
“...Oh, and he’s modest, too! Gods, what a catch- Truly, this is Mondstat’s most eligible bachelor-”
“You’re really just too funny, Kaeya. A regular fucking jester-”
“And you’re too hot! By your own admission, no less! Tell me more, please-”
“Shut up. Just shut up!” Diluc is red as a tomato, eyebrows twitching. His voice rises. “Kaeya, I can’t stand you. This is why I can not stand you.” Each word is punctuated, louder than the last, but there’s no real bite to it. Kaeya is undeterred, kicking his feet with delight and repeating the phrase in a mocking imitation of his brother’s low voice - I am hot, Oh I’m sooo hot. I’m Diluc and I-
Then comes an unexpected spray of grit across his face and Kaeya’s mocking breaks down into coughing. He wipes his eyes, partly to clear them and partly from disbelief. “Did-” A cough. “Did you just throw sand at me?” He’s already starting to laugh again. The answer, unlikely as it may be, is obvious. “You threw sand at me!”
Next to him, Diluc has finished shaking the sand off of his sleeve and returned it to his former crossed position. He’s glaring with his jaw set and chest puffed out, like a noblewoman who’s just borne some awful insult. He looks childish. It doesn’t suit the length of his limbs, the trained grace of his posture, Kaeya thinks. Or maybe it does.
“You deserved it. I’ll do it again. Shut up.” Dilic is talking through clenched teeth now, hands moving to curl fingers in the sand as if substantiating the threat. Face flushed.
Kaeya has no intention of being hit with sand again. But seeing Diluc unravel like this is precious and rare indeed. It’s not a moment he should waste. Kaeya stands and takes a few steps forward, then looks over his shoulder. “If you’re too hot, dear brother, let me give you a hand,” he teases. Then with a swift gesture he brings up a row of cryo ice crystals and slings them around towards the rock where Diluc sits—precluding the ‘I’m not your brother’ retort that was sure to follow.
Surprise flashes in Diluc’s eyes as he springs to his feet - clearly he hadn’t been expecting a fight. With a jerk of his arm, he sends a brilliant arc of pyro energy to meet Kaeya’s attack: The heat of the flames melts the ice shards instantly on contact, coming down as water in a chilling splash across Diluc’s face. Kaeya grins. “Got you.”
Diluc’s jacket is dripping, but not quite drenched. He wipes his face, cycling in turn through a few expressions- annoyance, surprise, confusion, back to annoyance. Kaeya, a few paces away, calls forth another flurry of cryo energy. A challenge. Diluc is too proud to take a hit, or maybe his response is just reflexive. When Kaeya sends the crystals flying towards him, Diluc’s arm moves lightening fast. Again he takes the bait, meets the attack with a score of flames. And again he’s rewarded with a spray of icy water to the face.
Kayea is triumphant. “Two for flinching,” he calls out, playful. Then he turns on his heel in the sand and takes off towards the beach at a sprint. He hears Diluc yelling after him, the sound ringing with familiarity. ‘You little brat- get back here! I’ll get you, I swear-!’
Kaeya runs until he’s up to his knees in the sparkling water, not bothering to stop and unlace his boots. Diluc is but a moment behind him.
He thought Diluc would splash him. He was hoping for it, actually. Kaeya turns in anticipation, arms already out as if to welcome the cool spray - and Diluc collides with him hard, knocking them both down to the water in a tackle that uses all of his weight. Kaeya’s back hits the sand, and for a moment, he’s underwater.
After a second of struggling and kicking he manages to free himself from under Diluc, scrambling to his knees in the water. He’s sopping wet and covered in sand, and has to take a moment to catch his breath, coughing.
Diluc has fared no better: His heavy clothes are soaked all the way through, red bangs darkened by water and plastered against his face. Somewhere in the confusion, his tie has come off. The top button of his shirt has come undone. Kaeya watches as a stray drop of seawater drips from Diluc’s jaw, rolls down his pale neck, disappears beyond his collar with the promise of collarbones and -
...And then Diluc does splash him, a great big wave that gets in Kaeya’s eyes and makes him taste salt. And splashes him again, and then moves to stand as if he’s going to try to go over and dunk him. Kaeya has come to his senses and retaliates with a splash of his own. The force of it on impact is enough to knock Diluc over, sending him unceremoniously to his rear in the sand, waves washing over his thighs. For a moment, through waves and spray and salt in his eyes, Kaeya can see that Diluc is smiling—laughing. He wishes he could stop time. He’s dizzy. It’s been so long since he’s seen that smile.
Then another splash, right to the face, blinding him. “You’d better watch out, there’s more where that came from!” Diluc is shouting. Shaken awake by the cold water, Kaeya crouches down again, ready to strike back.
For that brief moment, they’re nothing more than two boys playing carefree games on a summer day.
—
Even at its late afternoon angle, the heat of the sun is enough to begin drying them out on the way back.
Diluc is walking next to him, traces of that dazzling smile still lingering. Deep inside, Kaeya smiles too. His heart feels warm, in a way it usually does not. Diluc was a lot of different things to a lot of different people, he thinks. Mondstat’s most eligible bachelor. The wayward prince of the Ragnvindr family, the uncrowned king of Mondstadt. To the Favonius order, a tolerated disruption. To a thief in the night, the grim reaper. And in spite of it all, this side of him was something that most would never get to see. This part of Diluc was just for him.
“Hey, Di,” Kaeya calls out, voice softened by emotion.
Diluc stiffens a little on hearing his old childhood nickname, but he doesn’t comment on it. “Hm?”
“Tell me something.”
“Tell you what?”
Kaeya doesn’t stop walking. His mouth has run on ahead of him, without his mind in tow. Only around Diluc could he act this way. It makes him foolish.
“Did you miss me?” There’s a pause. “After you left, I mean.”
Diluc stops for a moment, as if deliberating. Then he answers in a simple and honest tone. “No.” The space after it feels heavy and awkward, he speaks up again as if he can mend the truth. “Kaeya… There was a lot going on back then. It was-" He’s unable to find the words. “...I had a lot on my mind.”
“I missed you.” Without leaving room for a response, Kaeya continues, his voice quiet. He doesn’t turn to see Diluc’s reaction. “I missed you every day. I still do.”
Kaeya isn’t surprised to hear that Diluc wasn’t thinking of him; he couldn’t have expected any other answer. Because he knows Diluc dislikes him, distrusts him. The bond broken between them may never be repaired. He remembers the day they fought, the day Crepus died. Fire and ice meeting for the first time in a violent clash of swords and hateful words. Pouring rain. They might have killed each other that night, had either been able. It wasn’t long ago, Kaeya thinks. Neither of them speak. He regrets bringing it up. He doesn’t quite know why he did.
They’ve reached the stone where Diluc was sitting earlier, where their childish play-fight started, and Kaeya retakes his seat in the sand. Diluc doesn’t join him, turning back to face the darkening waves, the evening sky. Kaeya watches. Looks. It clears the discomfort in his chest, for a moment. Diluc’s red hair, still damp, restrained by a tie that’s been coming undone bit by bit throughout the day. Diluc’s long legs. His already tight pants now wet and clinging. The neatly-stitched filigree on his heavy old coat. Kaeya can no longer clearly make out the details of the embroidery. Diluc is walking away.
He’s like the sunset, Kaeya thinks. Warmth with a promise of darkness. Every day, forever. It’s almost too much to bear.
Kaeya remains where he is. The island isn’t large; Diluc can’t have gone far. He’ll be back eventually or he won’t, Kaeya thinks, and they’ll rejoin the group and finish whatever it was that they came here to do. They’ll part ways and go home. The sound of the ocean is rhythmic, and Kaeya lets his mind wander once more.
First to the time before on the beach when they were kids, then through a dozen simple scenes just like it. A whole childhood spent by Diluc’s side. They had gone fishing once at Starfell Lake. They caught fireflies outside the manor. They fought over snacks, over training, over anything; always making up after a while.
There was a time when Diluc and Kaeya’s summer days seemed like they would never end.
—
It’s not long before the sound of footsteps crunching in sand drags him back to reality. The last of the day’s warmth is draining away, stars beginning to take their places in the sky. A lanky shadow makes his way back up the beach.
Diluc sits down on the sand beside him once more, the move a little clumsy with his hands full. He sits the shells down in the space between them, next to Kaeya’s earlier collection.
“I don’t have any fancy stories, but…” Diluc’s eyes are downcast, searching. He picks up a piece of conch. “Here. This one’s green.”
Kaeya takes it. He feels some emotion starting to bloom, deep inside himself, frightening in its sincerity. “...Green, huh? Simple, I like it.” He turns the shell over in his hands. It’s a little chipped. “Can I keep it?” he asks.
“Mm.”
That’s not all, it seems. Diluc fishes around in his pocket for a moment, then pulls out a smooth and sparkling piece of blue sea glass. “...It looks like ice,” he explains, tone approaching embarrassment. “I thought you might want it.” Their hands brush as he passes it over and Kaeya wonders, errantly, if his own fingers are cold. If Diluc found his touch unpleasant.
There’s one other thing in Diluc’s hand. It’s a dull orange color, probably originating from some sailor’s discarded beer bottle. It’s close enough to red. Kaeya holds out his palm and Diluc drops it in wordlessly. He feels a strange sense of satisfaction holding the two pieces. Like a pair.
“It’s you and me,” Kaeya says with a grin.
Taking one in each hand, he stands the pieces of sea glass up and makes them waddle across the sand. Like a child would with a pair of toy soldiers, knocking them together lightly as if they’re fighting. He walks the blue piece of glass over to Diluc’s thigh and taps him with the corner of it a few times. Without the heart to bat him away, Diluc twitches and scoots.
“I’ll throw it in the ocean,” he warns.
“You won’t.”
“I’ll throw you in the ocean.”
Kaeya laughs. He slips the two stones into his pocket. “Thanks for coming back, Diluc.”
“Not really anywhere I could’ve gone.”
“You know what I mean.”
Kaeya turns to face him, the closeness making the gesture feel intimate. Diluc is looking anywhere else. He coughs, then turns and stands. “It’s getting cold,” he says. “I’ll start a fire.”
It only takes a moment for Diluc to drag some driftwood into a loose heap, igniting it with a gesture. Too long a moment, Kaeya thinks. Finished with the fire, Diluc returns to his place at Kaeya’s side.
Then he reaches over to wrap his arm around Kaeya’s shoulder.
Once the surprise wears off, it’s nice. Kaeya leans in closer and Diluc responds in kind, running his thumb over his arm. They sit watching the fire.
“Don’t leave me again.” It’s all Kaeya can think to say in this moment. If there’s anything that can make it last, can keep it from fading into memory, he’s desperate enough to try. It’s a moment of vulnerability he’d never show to anyone else. Only Diluc.
Diluc thinks for a moment. “Alright,” he says, simply. Then an addendum. “...Well, no promises. You never know.”
“No, no. You don’t get to back out.” Kayea chides. ”Or don’t you remember? You picked up my magic shell, Diluc. Now you can never leave me.”
“...I’m not your lover.”
“Yeah, yeah. Semantics”.
The arm around Kaeya’s shoulder tightens. Diluc’s body pressed against his side feels familiar, worn to softness like an old favorite shirt. They remain like that, side by side, until the night gives way to dawn.