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“Childe?”
“Oh, Kaeya! Come in, I was just finishing up.”
Wordlessly, Kaeya crossed the massive room that served as his friend’s Liyue office, so graciously housed within the Northland Bank. Kaeya didn’t know how the whole thing fit in the seemingly small building, but somehow, it did.
“Have a seat anywhere,” Childe continued, his ginger hair blocking the view of his face as he sat filling out paperwork. Kaeya let himself slide into the chair opposite Childe, content to watch his younger companion work until he went home for the day. Aether had initially introduced them, his golden eyes wary as he recited names and personal tidbits, but quickly Kaeya and Childe had developed their own relationship outside of the blonde’s travels.
It wasn’t like anything Kaeya had ever experienced before. Of course, he’d had difficult relationships; his brother Diluc had no qualms about filling that grey area; but what he had with Childe was so different, so complex, so wonderfully intense. They weren’t lovers, but the tension between them was palpable; weren’t enemies, but their weapons clashed violently twice a week. None of it made sense, yet it thrilled Kaeya to no end, made his heart flutter and his stomach twist.
Like right now. His vision was practically swimming as he stared at Childe, the tips of his fingers tingling in expectation of the upcoming fight. Whenever he had time, but always twice a week, Kaeya took a teleport to Liyue in search of his ginger friend. (Though, “friend” was never the right word for whatever it was they had.) Childe took him down to the vault room of the Bank, pulled out his bow, and a battle ensued. Sometimes they’d travel, scuffle in the region of Lisha behind the harbor, but they always wound up back at the bank, wrapping bandages around their wounds and offering light comments and smiles.
The time before the fight was always the most intense. The time after, however, was what made Kaeya fall in love with his Snezhnayan counterpart.
“All wrapped up,” Childe announced brightly, his hair bouncing as he looked up to settle his paperwork into a neat stack on the edge of his desk. He stood, stretched, and Kaeya followed slow suit. A gleam lingered in the ginger’s eyes as he glanced to the shorter male, something that made Kaeya’s insides squirm. “How do you feel about a walk?”
“Sure,” the blue-haired answered nonchalantly, but his throat squeezed uncomfortably around the last half of his word. If Childe noticed, he said nothing, simply grabbing a thick overcoat and beckoning Kaeya with thin fingers to follow him. The two walked out of the bank, Childe not even murmuring farewells to his coworkers, and it made Kaeya ponder what kind of man Childe was like outside of their little bubble. Aether always spoke highly of him, albeit distrustingly. He had yet to meet anyone else who knew about the Harbinger, but he preferred it that way; Childe was his little secret. The Knights always ended their day with warm goodbyes and promises to return their next shift, but it seemed to Kaeya that Childe didn’t even glance that way. Perhaps it was a Liyue thing because none of the workers looked particularly interested in parting words either.
“One hell of a view,” Kaeya offered as they trekked their way up the side of Mt. Tianheng, earning a rumbling chuckle from Childe. Kaeya had made it a personal mission to make the Harbinger laugh, and whilst he hadn’t gotten past that soft chuckle yet, he was sure he was getting closer.
“Yeah, it sure is. Not quite as entrancing as Snezhnaya, but I’ll give it a seven of ten.”
His own muted laugh spilled from his throat; Kaeya never got used to the humor of the ginger man. They continued in relative silence for the next half hour, only the sound of their breathing and the crunch of their boots accompanying them. It was a long walk, one Kaeya had never made before, but Childe seemed to know their route well enough, seemed confident with his footfalls and where he deemed fit to climb.
When they reached the top, they still didn't speak. In unison, they merely fell into ungraceful sitting positions, chests heaving from exertion. It wasn’t awkward, in fact, it was possibly the opposite. They were just two guys hiking and taking a break at the top.
But they quickly lost that innocent atmosphere when Childe shifted and Kaeya summoned his sword. He had sharper, more deadly blades than his Harbinger of Dawn, but it felt right in his hand, and he’d be lying if he said fighting Childe with it didn’t make his bones laugh with mirth.
“Someone’s eager,” Childe said lightly, but within seconds Rust was resting in his own hand comfortably. He had the ability to call forth better bows with more power and accuracy, but he never did, the reason briefly described as “he’s my favorite” to Kaeya one day while Childe was particularly sentimental after a fight. They were on the same terms as far as weapon choosing, even if Childe’s was a rank above Kaeya’s. In the end, it seemed to balance out, perhaps since Childe was not yet fluid in the use of bows.
“Just ready to try out some new tricks,” Kaeya tossed back, flipping his sword in his hand as he waited for the Harbinger to stand. When he did, it was with a small grunt and a teasing smile.
“Ready?”
“Always.”
Childe dragged the tip of an arrow through the dust on the top of the mountain, two months after their final fight. Kaeya’s body was taken back to Mondstadt as soon as they caught wind of his death, and ever since, the Knights of Favonius had been breathing down Childe’s neck like he’d done something absolutely terrible.
He’d tried to tell them it was Kaeya’s own fault for getting involved, but there was a red-haired man among them named Diluc who radiated fury every time Childe was even mentioned. The Harbinger didn’t know what his problem was, but he guessed he’d been close friends with Kaeya to react as he did. Even Aether had been more hesitant to see him, though he didn’t cut off contact completely, something Childe was grateful for. It got lonely sometimes in his line of work, and he felt a sense of relief every time he added someone to his list of friends.
It was still a very, very short list.
He wondered for a moment if Kaeya had ever been on that list. Did that spunky Knight ever cross his mind under the term “friend”? He doesn’t think so. Usually, he fell under “enemy” or “fighting practice” or simply “Knight.” Had he ever addressed Kaeya as a friend, instead of some sort of foe to play around with?
Wait. There was one night, one night he distinctly remembered. He and Kaeya had fought a particularly exhausting battle, one where Childe had been half tempted to kill Kaeya as the minutes ticked by. He hadn’t. Why? Why didn’t I?
He tried to think. Kaeya’s body, bearing the mark of Riptide, Rust nocked and an arrow pointing directly at the Knight’s heart. It would have been so easy. Just a simple release of pressure from his fingertips.
It was night. They’d walked out of town, were fighting under a canopy of sandbearer trees. The moonlight fell on the ground in patches, illuminating the dew sparkling on the grass.
Oh. That was why he hadn’t let the arrow go. A beam of moonlight had spilled from the leaves to create a halo effect on Kaeya. It gave new meaning to the blue in his eyes and hair, made him glow like nothing Childe had ever seen before.
Childe had been starstruck. He had hesitated. Kaeya had looked, in that single moment, ethereal. And it had caught Childe off guard, to see the man look so entrancing in the light of the moon.
A mistake. It had been a mistake.
Childe stood up with clenched teeth and threw his arrow aside, where it dissolved before hitting the dirt. Kaeya was dead. It was useless thinking about him now, not when he was already gone. He had killed the sly Knight, and that was the end of it. He had no time to regret or feel emotion towards the fallen man.
He walked down the mountain.
He never allowed himself to think about Kaeya’s death or the moonlit memory again.
After all, some things are better off left in the dust.