Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s no secret to anyone who’s paid any attention to him that Childe is madly in love with the co-president of the Going-Home Club. How one becomes president of the going-home club is anyone’s guess, but that’s neither here nor there. Well, a club needs someone to fill out forms for them, right? 

“You’re so creepy,” says Scaramouche from the desk over. “You’re practically leering at her.” 

Childe splutters. “Me? Creepy?” 

Scaramouche calmly stacks his books. “I said what I said.” 

What an asshole. Childe rolls his eyes and looks back at Lumine, co-president of the going-home club, shouldering her bag beside her brother and the class president, Ningguang. Their heads are huddled together, like they’re discussing some big secret thing, and Childe’s heart thumps in curiosity — that kind of bloodthirsty need-to-know feeling. 

“You’re just jealous because the girl you like hates you,” Childe says finally, to which Scaramouche picks up his books and slams them back down on the table, garnering looks from the rest of the class. Childe offers the onlookers a beaming smile, his eyes drawing back over to Lumine. She is not looking. 

Scaramouche scoffs. “She didn’t even look.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Anyway, I’m out.” Scaramouche slings his bag over his shoulder, having packed up the things he’d be bringing home. “Don’t follow me.” 

“Don’t miss me too much!” Childe calls back. Scaramouche flips him off and turns the corner out of the classroom. 

Ah, high school. 

Creepy. The word sticks with him that day, like an ugly tag on an even uglier sweater. Is he creepy? Childe sweeps his hair back and looks at himself in the window and makes a face. Is that the face of a creep? No way. 

He’s jolted out of his reverie at the sound of someone slamming their palm down on his desk. He whirls around, smirk ready-made and plastered on his face, only to come face to face with Lumine herself, her brother leaning against Scaramouche’s vacant desk. 

“You,” she snarls, and it’s so strangely attractive that Childe has to remind himself they’re in class and he’ll have to commit this moment to memory and refocus on it later. 

“Hey, girlie,” he says, lamely. 

“Don’t call me that.” Lumine’s eyebrows furrow further, fire blazing in her golden eyes. “You’re the one who trapped our cat in the tree yesterday?” 

...Oops. 

So. That’s a bit of a story. Not that Childe could ever say he was ever in the right for doing what he did, because he wasn’t, but hear him out. Say you see a cat pawing at a tree. It really wants to climb it! And you don’t know whose cat that is. So you lift the cat and put it in the tree, on the highest branch you can reach, and it’s just kind of funny looking at a cat in a tree, because that kind of thing doesn’t really happen in real life. And then you run away when the cat starts crying. 

How was he supposed to know that was Lumine’s cat? Why’d she bring her cat to school in the first place? 

Childe tries to say as much. “I didn’t know that was your cat.” 

“You didn’t know? Why’d you just put a cat in a tree in the first goddamn place?” 

“Why’d you bring it to school?” 

Lumine exchanges a look with her brother, Aether, who shakes his head minutely. She rears back on Childe, hands fisting in his shirt, pressing him back against the window. “That’s none of your business.” 

Childe takes a breath and tries to calm his racing heart. He should be a lot more scared, but really, this is the closest he’s been to Lumine ever , and the fact that she’s touching him — well, touching his clothes — is enough to make his skin thrum. 

“How should I make it up to you?” he says, his trademark smirk widening. “Should I give you a kiss?” 

Lumine gapes back at him. There’s a faint red dusting across her cheeks, and she shoves him away from her, stepping back toward her brother. 

“Never mind,” she mutters, just loud enough for him to hear, and drags Aether away. (The boy looks almost as murderous as she did.) Before they leave, she sends him another withering glare. “I’ve got my eye on you,” she says. Then they’re gone. 

Childe practically collapses. Half in relief, half in… you know, that lovesick kind of way that people just sit back and breathe. It happens in romcoms all the time. Not that Childe watches a lot of those. And if he does, it’s through no fault of his own. (This is a lie.)

Weekends are always difficult for Childe. Sunday night finds him thinking about how there is entirely too little murder in everyday life, and how maybe that should change, when his phone vibrates in his hands. Not a call; it’s a text message from an unknown number: Is this Childe?  

Yeah, who is this? Childe sends back. 

It’s Lumine is the response and Childe immediately sits up, gripping his phone in both of his hands. His thumbs hover over the keypad, wondering how to respond. Does he pretend he doesn’t recognize the name? Act natural? 

He’s saved from having to respond when she sends another text: Sorry I blew up at you at school on Friday. I was mad because Paimon scratched me to all hell.  

Aw, she uses proper punctuation and capitalization and everything. Childe can only assume that’s because she’s not comfortable with him yet, and so his first text back is tht’s ok lmao. Then: btw how’d u get my number?  

Zhongli, she sends back. Anyway, I guess I’ll see you at school.  

Childe: u better say hi to me in the hallway lol  

Lumine: Don’t test your luck.

He goes to sleep that night feeling less bloodthirsty. 

Monday, Childe realizes, can be beautiful, provided it starts with Lumine giving him a brief nod across the room. It’s so sad: that simple acknowledgement of his existence is enough to get his heart pounding in his throat. Next to him, Scaramouche is giggling. Creepily.  

Childe tells him as much. “You’re creepy,” he says. “Stop doing that.” 

The psychopathic grin on Scaramouche’s face barely lessens. “No,” he says, and that’s the end of that. 

Instead of paying attention to him like he probably wants, Childe daydreams the rest of the class about the way Lumine’s hair curls around her ear. 

When lunch finally rolls around, Childe ditches Scaramouche in the classroom in favor of sidling up next to Lumine and Venti from the class down the hall in the lunch line. 

“Hey there, girlie, how’s it hangin’?” he says. It sounded cooler in his head. 

The look Lumine levels him with is equal parts confusion and disgust. “Don’t call me that. What are you doing here? Don’t you usually eat in the classroom?” 

“Aw, you’ve been paying attention!” Childe jokes, but secretly, he really is surprised. He didn’t think she knew he existed before last week, honestly. 

“Lumi, who’s this?” Venti asks, in his annoying music-prodigy voice. Not that music prodigies all have a specific voice, just that Venti inherently sounds and talks like someone who would of course be a musical genius. The way he says Lumine’s nickname — with so much affection — pisses Childe off. 

To make matters worse, Lumine stares at Childe for a moment and then says, “I dunno. I’m hungry. Where’s Aether?” 

Venti blinks at her, then at Childe, and leads the way to where Aether sits, already with a tray. Lumine drops next to Aether, leaving Childe and Venti to glare at each other over the seat next to her. 

(In the end, Childe has to sit on the other side. Venti looks like he could harness all the power of the wind even when they’re inside.) 

Aether leans over to Lumine and stage-whispers, “Lumi, what’s this guy doing here?” Childe’s eyebrow twitches. Man, people really don’t like him. 

“I felt bad about yelling at him the other day,” Lumine says nonchalantly, taking a bite of her curry. “And now we’re sorta friends.” 

Aether looks scandalized. 

Friends. Childe can work with that. It’s… much more than he was expecting. He’s tempted to make a quip along the lines of aww you do care! but that’d be the second one in ten minutes and he doesn’t wanna jinx it, anyway. After all, Lumi — Lumine still looks at him like she wants to kill him. But, well. At least she’s looking at him. 

“You yelled at him?” Venti says, astounded. “You? ” 

“I’m not nice to everybody,” Lumine grumbles. 

“You are to me, though,” says Venti, glancing over at Childe once more. Childe sighs. 

“I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot,” he says, his smile strained. “I’m really sorry for messing with your cat.” 

Aether’s eyes widen, like an apology is the last thing he’d ever expected. “Are you okay?” he asks. 

“Huh?” Childe blinks at him bemusedly. “What?” 

“You’re usually so aggressive,” says Aether. 

“Or two-faced,” adds Venti. 

“We weren’t expecting you to apologize so sincerely like that.” 

Childe’s not sure whether or not he should be offended. Clearly, his reputation precedes him. Well, he already knew that. 

“I guess you can’t trust everything you hear,” he says. “I’m a lot of things, but two-faced and unnecessarily aggressive aren’t exactly me. ” 

Lumine glances up at him from her food for a brief moment like she doesn’t believe him, then looks back down. She’s sharp. 

See, Childe’s not being entirely truthful. He is aggressive. He is kind of two-faced, sometimes, when people are looking at him with those judging eyes and he can only smile innocently back, hiding his claws behind his back. But Aether and Venti are satisfied with it, if not entirely convinced. 

“Let’s eat, then,” Childe urges, and digs into his own food. 

Lumine’s eyes linger once more. 

“Where’s Aether?” Childe asks when he catches Lumine heading out that afternoon. 

She scowls. “He’s… busy. If you need him, I can call you later when he’s free.” 

Childe frowns. Something’s wrong. “No, that’s not it. It’s just weird to see you alone. I feel like you never are.” 

“You’ve been paying attention,” she says, echoing his sentiment from earlier. “Yeah. It’s weird.” 

Childe shoves his hands in his pockets, deciding that Signora and Scaramouche and the rest of their after-school Dungeons and Dragons group won’t miss him too much. “I’ll keep you company, then.” 

Lumine looks at him sideways — she seems to do a lot of looking at him, at least today — and nods, facing back forward. “Thanks.” 

They walk in relative silence for a moment before Childe says, “So. Friends.” He breathes out. “That was quick.” 

“You don’t want to be?” 

“I didn’t say that.” He purses his lips. “I just wasn’t expecting it. You look at me like you want to kill me.” 

“I do.” 

Childe cocks his head, looking down at her. “Is that normal for you?” 

“No.” Lumine slows to a stop and turns to face Childe. Ugh, the way she has to look up at him is not good for Childe’s heart. It takes every ounce of willpower in him to keep himself from leaning down and tasting her lips. “But you’re… interesting. I hope it wasn’t presumptuous of me to say we’re friends.” 

“I’m more than happy to be friends,” says Childe, only half-lying. Everyone knows he’d rather be much more. 

Lumine nods resolutely. “Friends it is, then.” 

As they walk through the city toward Lumine and Aether’s apartment, the quiet starts to feel oppressive. Not that the city’s quiet — in fact, it’s just as loud and bustling as always — but the stony silence from Lumine feels… weird. It’s also weird that Childe already feels like he knows her really well, despite having only been friends for today. He can already tell something is wrong. 

His mind begs him to ask, but his tongue feels like sandpaper, like a weight in his mouth. And so, the silence persists. 

Finally, Lumine says, “Can you believe we’re graduating soon?” 

Childe glances over at her, the way her lips are twisted around her teeth, like she’s nervous. He faces forward again, shoving his hands further into his pockets. 

“No,” he says. “I can’t.” 

“Pretty soon we’ll all be far away from each other,” she says. 

“Well.” Childe searches desperately for the right words to say. “Not too far, I hope.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah, I mean…” He takes a deep breath. “It’s not like you have to leave the people you care about.” 

There’s something ravenous in her eyes when she looks at him, then, stopping once again. “Right? You mean that, right?” 

Childe stammers a half-answer. “Yeah — I mean — things change, obviously but — what I’m trying to say is…” He scuffs his hand over his hair. “The people you love — they’re all that matters, you know?” 

“Yeah.” Her eyes are bright, once again. “You’re right.” 

They start off again, and only a few moments later, they’re at the foot of Lumine’s apartment. Childe files away this information for potential later use. 

“Thanks, Childe,” Lumine says, four steps up from the ground. From here, she looks taller than him. He thinks about leaning toward her. 

“Anytime, Lumi,” he says. Her name tastes like summer. And when she disappears into the building, he collapses against the stairs, trying to calm the racing of his heart. 

God. He is utterly whipped.  

The week passes similarly. Read: it consists mostly of Childe somehow worming his way into daily interactions with Lumine. Then two of them walk home while Aether’s busy after school. Lumine never says what Aether’s doing, and Childe doesn’t ask. He’s not entirely sure she knows, either. 

Of course, it’s not always easy to catch Lumine after school. Usually some number of people ambush her after class with questions about the homework, about the student council, about her love life. It’s very shoujo-manga, and Childe hates that he knows enough about shoujo manga tropes that he recognizes them in his daily life. 

One day he even catches some asshole confessing to her by the chicken coop while the school’s one rooster clucks away at their feet. 

“So,” Childe says when she meets him out by the gate that day, “who was that?” 

Lumine shrugs. “I don’t know.” 

Ugh. She’s as hard to get information out of as a nail, and those don’t even have mouths. As they walk, she seems entirely unperturbed. Will she tell him about it without him bringing it up? Are they at that level of friendship yet, after spending a week together? 

Finally, Childe decides to take the plunge. “Do you get love confessions like that a lot?” 

“I figured you were listening in.” Lumine smirks sideways at him, her eyes finding his momentarily. He feels like a cat caught with its hand in the cookie jar, metaphorically speaking. She faces forward again. Childe’s starting to get used to her way of talking, the way she looks at him briefly before gathering her thoughts again. 

“Of course you noticed,” he mutters, mostly to himself. 

Lumine nods. “Anyway, I wouldn’t say I get confessions a lot.” 

Childe cocks his head. “I find that hard to believe.” 

“Are you calling me a liar?” 

“No, I’m saying you probably don’t realize how many people like you.” 

“Hm.” Lumine doesn’t seem to have an answer to that. Finally, she says, “I think I’m just convenient. I do stuff for people.” 

“That’s as good a reason as any to fall in love with someone,” says Childe. 

“Is it? I guess I wouldn’t know.” Lumine shoves her hands into her sweater pockets. “I don’t need anyone but Aether. It’s always just been us two.” 

Childe wonders what kind of life those two have been living, to feel so far away from everyone else. He would ask, but… he’s not sure if it’s stepping over any boundaries. Funny — he’d never really cared about boundaries or the comfort of others before when making conversation, but with Lumine… well, he just doesn’t want to do anything that would make her hate him. Especially after putting her cat in a tree. 

They reach her house in silence. 

“Thanks for walking me home this week,” Lumine says, not meeting his eyes. 

“Anytime,” says Childe. “I’ll keep doing it. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” 

Lumine makes a small sound of acknowledgement, but her satisfied smile isn’t lost on Childe. “Okay,” she says. 

Childe doesn’t immediately go home that afternoon. Usually he does, eager to shoot Lumine a text or two that will be met with quiet, one-word answers or stickers, but today’s Friday. Which means the club he’s in, the Fatui, as they’ve affectionately named themselves, is having anime night at Signora’s mansion. You know, as rich kids do. Today, he’s on snack duty. Why Signora doesn’t just buy her own snacks, he’ll never know, but she lets him choose the show they watch sometimes, so all is good. Scaramouche always hates his shoujo recommendations. 

The convenience store closest to Signora’s house is always close to empty, especially an hour or so after school. Childe thinks it has something to do with convenience stores being seen as lesser — like true rich people buy overpriced bottled matcha straight from the company. As one does. Anyway, he’s never really had much pride by way of having money, so that kind of thing doesn’t really matter to him all that much. 

But, of course, imagine his surprise when he drops all his items at the checkout counter and is met with very familiar golden eyes. 

“Childe?” says Aether, his voice strained. “What are you doing here?” 

“Um.” His heart hammers like a deer in the headlights. Is that the right way to use that phrase? “I’m… buying… stuff.” 

He’s realizing he’s never talked to Aether without Lumine around. Aether regains his composure and starts scanning Childe’s giant heap of snacks. 

“So, where’s Lumine?” Childe asks, stupidly. He knows she’s at home. He walked her there. 

“At work,” says Aether. Boy, doesn’t Childe feel stupid. 

“Oh, really?” he says. “I didn’t know she also…” He trails off at the look Aether fixes him with. 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Aether spits, a slight against Childe’s wealth. Which is fair, but hey.  

With such an aggressive expression on his face, Childe can see exactly how identical Aether and Lumine are. Their eyes are set the same way in their faces, and they scowl the same way. Aether is more smiley, usually, but most definitely not right now. 

“I didn’t mean it that way,” says Childe, already backpedaling. Aether’s approval is the one thing that means the most. 

“Sure,” says Aether, not meeting his eyes. 

Silence. Childe awkwardly taps his fingers against the counter. He doesn’t like silence. It always means something stewing, thoughts boiling over and becoming weapons that hurt. He’s all too familiar with how people seethe in their own quiet. And now, it’s written all over Aether’s face. 

“Where have you been the past week?” Childe asks, to break the silence. “Lumine’s been worried.” 

Aether purses his lips, pausing mid-scan. “Here,” he decides. “Working.” 

He’s just as difficult to get information out of as his sister. “Why wouldn’t you tell her that?” 

“That’s none of your business,” Aether snaps. “Your total is sixty-two forty-one.” 

Childe hands over his little black card. 

“You can’t tell her,” says Aether. “We need the extra money and she already works more hours than anyone in high school should ever need to.” 

She does? Childe bites his lip. He didn’t know that. He always walked her home and assumed she just stayed there. But thinking about it, it makes sense. She always responds late at night and seems so exhausted in her simple replies. There are bags under her eyes that he’s sure most people just overlook, because she’s pretty enough to appear like she has everything together. Aether, too. They’re really two peas in a pod, he muses. Obviously.  

See he’d always thought the tiredness, the aggression, was a result of hard work and school and grades and, you know, classic high school stuff. But how could he have ever known? 

A part of him wants to solve all their problems. Make it all better with a swish of his little black card. How could he possibly do that, though? He can imagine the look on Lumine’s face if she ever found out he gave her his money. The rage she’d level at him. He imagines her saying, So you just pitied me, is that it?  

“Okay,” Childe says, finally. “I won’t tell her. Even though you should.” 

“I’m not letting my sister skip university,” Aether says bitterly. “It’s not happening. She’s smarter than me by a long shot. I don’t deserve it.” 

So that’s what it’s about. Childe fills in the gaps quickly enough: that Lumine is saving up the money to send Aether to college, but not herself. That she’ll keep working so he doesn’t have to worry about higher education. That is something he could solve for them. But… 

(Imaginary Lumine’s imaginary glare makes him swallow thickly.) 

“I get it,” he says. “If you guys… If you need any help, I’ll be there.” 

If Aether were Lumine, he might’ve said, We don’t need your help. Or maybe: It won’t come to that. Instead, Aether nods, and says, “Thanks, Childe. I’ll talk to her about it.” 

“Okay,” Childe says tightly. He gathers his snacks and is gone. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” says Signora when Childe steps into her living room. The servant bows and heads back to the kitchen. “How many times do I have to tell you to just let yourself in?” 

“Maybe a few more times,” says Childe. He drops the bags on the coffee table and flops onto the long L-shaped couch.

Signora delicately opens a bag of chips. “So, what took you so long?” 

“I ran into someone at the convenience store,” says Childe. “Where’s Dottore? He’s not usually late.” 

“The research group takes precedence,” says Signora. She taps at her phone. “He’s on his way.” 

Scaramouche stomps in with all the ferocity of a baby kitten and the night kicks off. Dottore joins them halfway through the third episode of Koikimo (Childe’s suggestion, and god does he have mixed feelings about it). 

“Why do you always get to pick?” Dottore complains. “And why do you love romance so fucking much?” 

“You need to stop living vicariously through anime,” Scaramouche snickers. 

“Shut up!” Childe swats at him. “You wanted to watch Sword Art Online!” 

Pulcinella nods. “Scaramouche does have the worst taste of any of us.” 

“I resent that!” Scaramouche protests. “SAO has good animation! Unlike this garbage.” 

“Just admit you’re toxic and move on,” Signora says. 

“I’m toxic and I’m free!” 

Childe wants to strangle him. “Stop judging my preferences in anime,” he whines. “I just like cute stories. Is that a crime?” 

“Yes,” the rest of them say. 

Childe pouts the rest of the night. 

Tonight is almost the night Signora convinces him to stay the night with the rest of them, but Childe holds out. He’s not really sure what it is, but he feels like sleeping over crosses a line he’s been toeing with them for so many years. Sleeping makes you vulnerable, and, well. As much as he loves them, vulnerable is not something you can be with the Fatui. 

His phone pings. Speaking of vulnerable. Lumine sends, You haven’t texted yet today. Are you dead? 

Nope, Childe responds, heading home. 

Lumine: So late?

Childe: ya, was with the other harbingers

Lumine: Is that what you Fatui club members call yourselves?

Childe: why not?

Lumine: Fair enough. 

The conversation stalls for a moment. Night envelops Childe on all sides, like a curtain at the end of a play. He thinks of his father, that man who only half exists anymore, and sees his eyes glowing back in the dark. 

It’s ridiculous. Eyes don’t glow. And the darkness does not whisper, Ajax, Ajax, Ajax. A name he doesn’t use anymore.

Childe: can i call u? 

Immediately, the response comes. 

Lumine: sure. 

The phone rings once before she picks up. Childe tries not to imagine her holding it, waiting for it to ring, but it’s a much better image than what he was thinking about before. 

“Hi,” he breathes into the night air. 

“Hey,” says Lumine. He imagines her eyes shifting around the room, wondering what to say. “Is everything okay?” Her voice seems to chase away the darkness nipping at his toes. 

“Yeah. I just didn’t want to walk alone. What are you up to?” 

There’s a brief pause, like she’s wondering if she really wants to tell him. Finally, Lumine says, “I got home from work not long ago.” 

“Should I have just walked you to work instead?” Childe jokes. 

“No way. My boss would ask so many questions. He’s very interested in my personal life. Just like a certain ginger I know.” 

“Should I be jealous?” 

She scoffs. “Anyway, is everything alright? You sound kind of off.” 

He thinks about what Aether said, and the way he hates the dark. The way his fists clench in anticipation, but his body remembers what the dark means. Ajax. His heart pounds. 

“Yeah,” he says tightly. “Or not. Tell me what happened at work.” 

Lumine is quiet for a brief moment before launching into a story about a customer that wanted to return a pastry after having taken a big bite out of it, effectively having eaten over half before deciding that they just didn’t want it anymore. Another customer who’d asked if she was pregnant, and when she said no, had asked, “Do you want to be?” Childe gags and laughs and forgets the dark until he gets to his own meager apartment. 

“Well,” he finally says. “I’m here.” 

“You’re home?” 

“Yeah. Putting my key in the lock as we speak.” 

“Oh.” Childe tries not to read into the tinge of disappointment in her voice. “I’ll, um. I’ll let you go, then.” 

“Wait!” Childe yells without thinking. The door swings open. 

He wants to tell her his name. His real name, the one he was born with, that he carried with him into the dark. But the words catch in his throat, and he flounders in silence. 

When he doesn’t follow up, irritatedly gnawing on the inside of his cheek, Lumine says, “Is everything okay?” 

Childe’s face warms. She’s worried about him. Or, you know, she’s being the bare-bones level of polite, which is probably closer to the truth, but… it still feels nice. He knows she’s only on the phone with him for one of those two reasons. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I just don’t want to hang up.” 

She’s quiet for a moment. “I need to sleep,” she finally says, “but… we can talk tomorrow?” 

“Promise?” 

A beat. “Yeah.” 

“Okay,” Childe breathes. “Good night then, Lumine.” 

“Night,” she says. And the line clicks off. 

(She calls him the next day.) 

It’s half an hour before the end of the school day when the fire alarm rings. 

Usually, if something chaotic is going to happen, it’s Childe’s doing. The last time the fire alarm rang was because he burned the entire class’s homework assignments in the chemistry lab. But he always had the tact to at least do it during a class no one wanted to be in. 

Of course, this time, it’s just a drill. He knows that because only the school administration would put it at a time that would make the least amount of disruption to normal class hours. But now they’ll be out here for a solid hour, maybe more, while teachers do headcounts and double-count and try to remember which students called in sick today. 

They’ve all filed out onto the tennis courts, separated by year, then class, then lined in alphabetical order. Lumine and Aether have their heads together at the beginning of the alphabet, the front of the line. Across the court is the advanced third year class, with Venti and Zhongli and a bunch of intimidating-looking people that Childe’s sure he could probably take on in a fight if he really wanted to. Zhongli smiles at him across the court and acknowledges him with an incline of his head. 

Next to Childe, Scaramouche leans back against the high chain-link fence caging in the tennis courts. From inside, it really does feel like being in a prison yard. Or something to that effect. “I hate fire drills,” says Scaramouche. He pokes his head out, probably to catch a glimpse of a certain someone across the way in a different class. 

“She’s not gonna notice you looking,” says Childe. “Not that you can even see her.” 

“You take that back,” Scaramouche says tiredly. The lack of malice in his voice is immediately worrying. 

“You alright, man?” 

“Yeah. Stayed up all night playing League.” 

Childe snorts. Of course he would. Scaramouche is the type of person to get tilted over video games, and then revel in the feeling of being violently angry. 

“Maybe if you didn’t play games like League you’d have more friends,” Childe muses. 

“I don’t want friends.” Scaramouche scowls. “Actually, get further away from me.” 

“No.” Childe sticks his tongue out. 

When he glances over again, Lumine is looking at them. She wiggles her fingers in a sort-of wave. Childe immediately feels his face flush, and he raises his hand to return the gesture. Aether’s brows furrow, an uncommonly irritated look on his face. He says something into her ear, at which Lumine laughs into the back of her hand. 

Scaramouche is gaping. “So that’s what you’ve been doing after school for the past week,” he accuses. 

“What? No. Not doing. More like, hanging out. And walking her home from school.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, perv.” Scaramouche snorts. “I hate you.” 

“Love you tooooo,” Childe coos. Scaramouche just covers his face and groans loudly. 

By the time students have started sitting down in their clumps of friend groups, the teachers finally blow the whistle, calling them all back inside. It’s been about an hour since school was supposed to be over, which is honestly so annoying. Childe needs to brainstorm ways to get back at the administration. 

But that’s for later. Lumine and her brother lag behind in the crowd of students trying to get back into the building, and Childe notices the way she looks over her shoulder every so often, as if she’s checking on someone. Eventually, they end up walking side-by-side. 

“Childe,” Lumine says mildly. 

“What are you doing all the way back here?” Childe jokes. “Missed me?” 

“You wish.” But Lumine doesn’t answer the question. 

On Childe’s other side, Scaramouche’s eyes are practically bulging out of his head. His expression is easy enough to read: something between why is she talking to you and what the fuck!  

Lumine looks around Childe. “You’re Scaramouche, right? Nice to meet you,” she says. 

“You too,” Scaramouche chokes. “You’re friends with Mona, right?” 

A knowing smile tugs at Lumine’s lips as she nods. “Yeah. I didn’t know you two were friends.” 

Scaramouche looks away. “We’re not,” he says venomously. “We’re rivals.” At that, Aether elbows Lumine and the two of them share a capital-L Look. Scaramouche’s face goes red. Ah, what a great feeling it is to see his friends getting along, Childe thinks. Even if he’s madly in love with one of them. 

That evening, Childe walks home with both Lumine and Aether. “I found someone to cover my shift,” Aether explains, and Lumine chews on her lip like she’s biting back a retort. 

They walk Lumine to work. It’s Childe’s first time being in this specific part of town — he usually spends his time further north, where his apartment and the batting cages are. This area is more of a restaurants and foodstuffs location: tables heavy with parasols spill out onto the coned-off road and the whole street smells like bread and coffee. 

Lumine stops in front of a quaint bakery with pink accents. “We’re here,” she announces. “Thanks for walking me this far.” She disappears inside the building. 

The smell of bread makes Childe’s stomach growl. Aether looks at him strangely. “Are you hungry?” 

“Who, me? No. You must be, though. We should get bread.” 

“Let’s get this bread,” Aether mumbles under his breath. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. Okay, let’s buy something.” 

They wait a few beats before pushing open the door. A bell chimes, signalling their arrival. 

If Childe thought the outside of the store smelled good, then the inside can only be described as heavenly. His stomach growls again. The shelves are lined with beautiful pastries, and the case at the register displays cakes of varying sizes. As a bakery does. Childe’s fingers twitch, aching to either eat everything or crush it all between his fingers. 

Lumine appears from the back, tying an apron behind her back. She looks up at them, eyes widening imperceptibly. “What are you two still doing here?” she grouches. 

“Hungry,” says Aether. “Want food.” 

Childe’s been getting better at reading Lumine’s expression, but this one is a brand of happy he hasn’t seen on her yet. It’s the kind of expression only Aether can seem to pull from her. Amused. Delighted. God, he could look at her face all day. 

“You can have one thing for free,” says Lumine. She shifts her gaze to Childe. “You have to pay, though.” 

If this were an anime, he’d be chibi-crying right now. “Okay,” he gripes. Lumine takes her place behind the register while Childe grabs a tray and piles it full of pastries. 

“Lumi, you bake these, right?” Aether asks, awestruck. 

“Sometimes,” she says. 

Childe piles on more pastries. 

“Not these ones though,” she elaborates. 

...Maybe he should put some back? 

“Liar,” says Aether. For Childe, he says, “Lumi leaves early every morning to work in the kitchen here.” 

“I see.” He decides this is actually a good number of pastries to have and drops the tray at the register. 

“Don’t expose me,” Lumine pouts. Why does she look so cute like that?! 

“Ring me up, girlie,” says Childe. 

“Don’t call me that,” says Lumine, entering the total into the register. Childe swipes his card as she takes her tongs and bags the pastries. If he hadn’t been paying such close attention, he might not have noticed the small smile on Lumine’s lips. His face feels warm. 

When all the pastries are bagged and Aether’s chosen his one baked good, Lumine shoos them out the door. Childe walks him all the way home before either of them speak again. 

Aether starts up the stairs before turning back around. Just like Lumine so often does. “Thanks, Childe,” he says, “for getting along with my sister.” 

“It’s easy,” says Childe. Aether snorts doubtfully. 

A week later, Teucer is sick. 

Childe calls in from school. He’s perfected his fake-cough: egregious enough to warrant staying home, but mild enough that hospitalization is never on the table. 

“Maybe I should get sick more often,” says Teucer, staring up at the ceiling. “That way, we can both take days off. And you can stay over here.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Childe says lightly. “You need to stay healthy or I’ll worry, okay?” 

Teucer nods. 

Childe spends the day making soup and reading at the foot of Teucer’s bed. Adventure stories, like always, until his voice gets hoarse and Teucer is fast asleep. 

When he finally looks at the time again, it’s an hour after school should’ve ended. Childe distantly wonders about Lumine — if she misses him, if she’s walking home alone today. That thought gets interrupted by the chime of his phone. 

Lumine: ur house is so big  

Informal texting aside (don’t think Childe didn’t notice), he’s already confused. Has Lumine ever seen his house? Why is she texting him this? 

Childe: huh????

His phone chimes again.

Lumine: let me innnnnn

What? Childe stumbles to his feet and practically trips over himself rushing down the stairs to the door. He flings it open: and there Lumine stands, plastic bag in one hand, backpack still slung over her shoulder. 

“How—” Childe chokes, “How are you here?” 

“Thought you said you lived in an apartment,” Lumine says, looking around. She steps into the foyer without him prompting her. Childe steps aside to give her space. “I looked you up in the student registry.” 

“They just gave you that information?” 

“No.” She examines his face. “You don’t look sick. Did you just wanna stay home?” 

Childe swallows thickly. He’s still reeling from having her in the home he grew up in. “It’s my youngest brother. The rest of them are at school, so I…” He trails off. 

Lumine doesn’t press him, but there isn’t pointless sympathy in her eyes, either. She is just as unwavering as usual. “Okay,” she says. “Then you can give him this.” She thrusts the plastic bag in his direction. 

Gingerly, Childe takes the bag and peers inside. There’s a few boxes of cooling patches, a bottle of Tylenol, and a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. “The kitchen’s back that way, do you mind…?” 

“Sure,” says Lumine. Childe drops the tub of ice cream into her waiting hands. 

“Thanks,” Childe says. 

Ten minutes later, he’s applied one of the cooling patches to Teucer’s forehead and is back in the kitchen, where Lumine leans against the counter like she already lives here. 

“How’s he doing?” she asks. 

“He’ll be fine,” Childe says. He leans on the counter opposite her. “Thanks for dropping by.” 

“Anytime.” Lumine doesn’t meet his eyes. “So, you live here?” 

“Not anymore.” Childe looks over the large kitchen, the pristine cupboards, the walk-in pantry. “I moved out not too long ago. But, well, you know me. Family is everything.” 

Lumine nods. He’s sure she understands. 

“Sorry for bringing stuff you probably already had,” she says. 

“We actually just ran out of cooling gel patches,” he says, “so you were a huge help. Thanks.” 

A smile pulls at Lumine’s mouth. “Okay. I’m glad.” She seems to think to herself for a moment, before finally saying, “How many siblings do you have?” 

“Me?” Childe has to consider it for a second. “There’s my three older siblings, then Tonia, Anthon, and Teucer… So, seven of us.” 

“And you’re right in the middle.” 

“Yeah.” He tries not to imagine a future in which Lumine is a part of it. A part of his family. 

“It must be nice,” she says. Childe follows her gaze to a framed photo on the island of all seven of them, ginger and grinning and full of life. It’s been a while since they’ve all been in the same place, but Childe knows they’re all still there for each other. That’s how family works. 

“Yeah,” he says wistfully. “It is.” 

Lumine leaves not long later, citing work. “I’ll text you,” she says. 

“Okay,” Childe says. As she rounds the corner into the street, he can’t help but lean against the doorframe, more than a little starstruck. 

The weeks pass uneventfully. Routines are easy to fall into, and Childe’s learning his life has become increasingly predictable. It’s not necessarily a bad thing — it would be if there was less Lumine involved, but lucky for the world, Childe has matters other than world domination to attend to for now. 

Namely: sometimes the way Lumine looks at him, in between classes, walking home, through the window at work when he doesn’t want to go home yet — sometimes it makes him hopeful, makes him wonder. But it feels stupid to hope, especially when there are others who hang off of Lumine’s every word, other people who might be better suited to her. Childe may be egotistical, but he’s self-deprecating when it counts. 

“Where were you yesterday after school?” Aether demands. Today he’s sitting between Noelle, a second year, and Diluc, from Class One. His eyebrows furrow at the sight of Childe. 

“Oh… yesterday.” The truth is that yesterday, Childe had to run home immediately from school because there were limited edition movie tickets on sale at the convenience store. They did that sometimes, selling movie tickets for less to garner business for the store — but that’s neither here nor there. The important thing is that Childe got the last two tickets. But it’s not like he can tell Aether that he ran out to set up asking Lumine on a date. So, instead, Childe does finger guns and says, “Yesterday I got arrested for being too cool.” 

Lumine, scrolling through Twitter on her phone, says disinterestedly, “The charges were dropped due to lack of supporting evidence.” Noelle laughs into her hand. 

Childe pouts. “You’re so mean to me.” 

Aether looks between the two of them. Over the past few weeks, Childe and Lumine have gotten really close, but she still hasn’t lost that bite she addresses him with. It’s one of the things Childe loves about her. 

Instead of answering, Lumine leans forward, bracing her elbows on the table. “Noelle, did you still need help studying for finals?” she asks kindly. 

“Yes!” Noelle chirps. “Of course, if it’s not too much of a bother…” 

“You don’t need to apologize for needing help,” Diluc grumbles. 

“You can count on the three of us!” says Lumine. 

“I’m here, too,” says Childe. Of course, Noelle doesn’t know him that well, so it doesn’t matter much. 

Noelle looks at Lumine like she’s hung the stars in the sky. “Can I drop by the bakery later today, then?” she asks. 

“Sure,” says Lumine. Her gaze shifts over to Diluc. “You’ll be there too, right?” 

Diluc exhales gruffly and nods in response. 

“I’ll grab one of the tables outside right after school, then,” says Aether. “Since Lumine and I have to go there anyway.” 

And then there are times like now, when Childe feels so incredibly distant. Like he could never really know everything about Lumine. Like he could never fit into her life the way she fits into his. 

He walks them to the bakery after school and just hangs around for a while. Childe feels kind of awkward hanging out with Aether, Noelle, and Diluc, especially considering he only really knows Aether, and even then their relationship is kind of strained. Childe sometimes gets the feeling that Aether knows about his giant crush, but they both skirt around the issue like it’s not really there. Anyway, instead of sitting at the table with the rest of them, he goes inside and leans on the counter. 

“Hey there, Lumi.” With her hair tied back and her work uniform on, Lumine looks even cuter than usual, if that’s even possible. 

“Childe,” she says with an incline of her head. Normally, she’d tell him to go do something else while she’s working, so things are already looking up. 

“So,” says Childe. “Guess who scored exactly two movie tickets?” 

Lumine pauses in sorting the register cash, but doesn’t look at him. “I’m sure lots of people can buy exactly two movie tickets at any time.” 

He brandishes two slips of paper. “I happen to be one of them,” Childe boasts. 

With a smirk, Lumine props her chin up in her palm and leans over the counter, inches away from Childe’s face. “Then,” she says, her tone low and borderline seductive, “you can have fun seeing it twice.” 

When he checks, he’s holding only one ticket. 

“So,” says Lumine, three days later, “what’s this movie about?” 

Childe jolts to attention. He absolutely was not staring at her dressed in casual clothes, wondering if she was dressed up for the hell of it or because she knew she was seeing him. “Um.” He racks his brain, already trying to remember which movie he bought tickets for. Honestly, at the time, he’d been more enthused by the word “sale” and the idea of going with Lumine that he’d forgotten to look too deeply into the content of the movie itself. “I… forget.” 

Lumine laughs into her hand. “Of course you would. By the way, you’re buying me popcorn.” 

“How can I deny a pretty lady what she wants?” Childe says, cursing the blush he knows is worming its way across his face. If Lumine notices it, she doesn’t say anything. 

Finally, they end up in the theater. Ads play on the screen. Lumine checks her phone and Childe peers over her shoulder, reading the reviews of the movie over her shoulder. One star. Makes sense why tickets were so cheap, then. 

“Worst zombie movie I’ve ever seen…” Lumine reads, then turns to him. “Childe, why are we watching this?” 

“I thought you’d enjoy throwing popcorn at the screen and jeering,” he says. It wasn’t what he was thinking when he bought the tickets, obviously, but he thinks it’d be pretty fun to laugh about a terrible movie with her. 

“I’m not throwing my popcorn at the screen,” says Lumine. “It’s too delicious for that.” 

As she brings a bite of popcorn to her mouth, Childe impulsively swoops in and eats it from her hand. Lumine freezes. 

“Yeah,” he says, “it is delicious.” 

“Do you wanna die?” 

“Have mercy on me.” Childe grins wider than he ever has before. Finally, the movie starts. 

It’s terrible. It’s objectively the worst movie Childe has ever seen. The main character’s acting is stiff and emotionless, the plot is riddled with holes, and the special effects make him want to tear his eyes out. But it’s okay, because even though she’s trying to be quiet, Lumine can’t stop laughing. She thumps her forehead against Childe’s shoulder as she shakes with laughter. So even though the movie sucks… well, Childe wouldn’t change it for the world. 

As the credits roll, the audience sits in stunned silence. How can something this terrible exist…? Childe knows he’s wondering that. Lumine sits back in her seat, practically breathless. 

“That was the worst thing I’ve ever seen,” she declares as they exit the theater. 

“I want to say it wasn’t, but…” Childe shoves his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, it was really bad.” 

Lumine’s phone buzzes. “Oh, it’s from Aether.” As she swipes her phone open to check, jealousy surges through Childe like he’s, you know, a child. He knows there is literally no reason for him to be jealous of the twin-bond between Lumine and Aether, but he can’t help it. Does Lumine smile like that when she gets a text from him? Does her heart jump like his does? 

From behind, Childe drapes his arms over her shoulders, leaning his weight on her. “Hey, girlie, hold me,” he says. Lumine lets out a loud oof.  

“You’re heavy,” she says, “and tall.” 

“The better to see you with, my dear,” Childe quips. Lumine doesn’t try to push him off, just stumbles around with him draped over her like Atlas holding up the world. Not a far off metaphor, Childe thinks. 

“Aether had an interview with GIU today,” Lumine says, changing subjects abruptly. “He texted me to say it went well.” 

Ah, GIU. The most prestigious school in the country. Tuition is supposedly extravagant, but the university makes up for it in name recognition and resources. Childe bites his lip. GIU is pretty far from their borderline suburban town, and yet, Lumine doesn’t say anything about that, just presses her lips together. 

“Should we get food?” Childe asks, extricating himself from her and changing the subject. 

Lumine looks sideways at him. “Didn’t we just eat a ton of popcorn?” 

Childe presses a hand to his chest, scandalized. “My dearest girlie, that was just the appetizer!” 

“Don’t call me that,” Lumine says without malice. “What are we eating?” 

“Hm.” Childe winks. “We could go back to my place and eat ramyeon? Watch Netflix?” 

Lumine elbows him. Hard. As Childe doubles over, she murmurs, mostly to herself, “Ramen sounds good, though…” 

“Don’t elbow me for it, then!” 

She ignores him. “Isn’t there a ramen place a couple blocks away?” 

“Hm? There should be.” Childe faintly remembers passing by a place with ramen in the name on the way here. The two of them step into the bright light of the outdoors, and Childe impulsively says, “I guess you could consider this our first date.” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Lumine immediately says back, but she doesn’t meet his eyes when he looks over. 

They do find a ramen place though, and it’s delicious. 

“I know you’re looking for where your girlfriend went,” Scaramouche says one day after class, “and I’m going to tell you I don’t know, and that you look creepy.” 

“Stop saying I look creepy,” Childe retorts, his eyes still roving over the classroom. Lumine is nowhere to be found. He likes the idea that he looks like her boyfriend. Lord knows he’s been trying to be. 

“No. If you look creepy, why wouldn’t I point it out? Just doing my duty as your friend.” 

Childe whirls around to look at Scaramouche. “I think that’s the first time you’ve acknowledged we’re friends.” 

“Did I say friend? I meant...” Scaramouche trails off, clearly blanking on rhymes. 

“You said friend. I’m never forgetting. This is the greatest day of my life.” 

“Shut up before I kill you.” 

Childe ignores him in favor of waving Aether over. Lumine’s brother had been pointing something out to a girl named Ganyu, but jogs over at Childe’s call. 

“What do you want?” Aether asks. 

“Have you seen Lumine?” 

Aether scowls. “Ningguang called her to fill out some club paperwork.” 

Childe cocks his head. “The Going-Home Club has paperwork?” 

“No, they have her help out with Student Council stuff.” From the look on Aether’s face, it’s clear he doesn’t approve. “She really needs to think about herself more…” 

Scaramouche gags. “So what? She’s the one who says yes.” 

The instinct to smack Scaramouche is overwhelming. As it is, Childe fixes him with a withering glare. “Shut up, dude,” he says. 

“I’m just saying.” 

“And I’m just saying, I’ll kick your ass!” 

“I’d like to see you try!” 

“No fighting in the classroom,” Aether says, sighing. 

Lumine finally joins up with them again an hour later. They had wasted time watching Aether interact with other people; the pleasant smile on his face would immediately drop whenever he looked over at Childe and Scaramouche. Childe’s still not sure what Aether has against him, but if they’re going to be in-laws someday, this can’t continue. Not that he has any way of fixing it. And did he just think of Aether as his future in-law? 

He’s always loved Lumine, but it’s different to think of that future so tangibly. For it to be a real possibility. Childe blinks and the feeling fades back to his subconscious, barely there, like an itch that moves when you scratch at it. And then she appears in front of them, like the wind, like the earth, like everything that has ever been, and Childe falls in love with her all over again. 

“Are you okay?” Lumine asks him, leaning into his face while standing on her tiptoes. God, she’s so cute. 

“Yeah,” Childe stammers back. The heat splashed across his cheeks begs to differ. 

“Should we head home?” Aether asks. 

“Yeah, you guys do that,” says Scaramouche. “I’ll be in the club room, which our lovely Tartaglia hasn’t visited in weeks.” 

“Don’t you dare take my codename in vain,” says Childe. 

“Make me.” With that, Scaramouche turns on his heel and stomps off in the direction of the astrology club, decidedly not the place he’d said he was going. Lumine shakes her head. 

“Let’s get going,” she says knowingly.  

As they leave the school gates, Aether says suddenly, “How was the movie?” 

“Awful,” says Lumine. 

“Amazing,” says Childe at the same time. Lumine fixes him with a Capital-L Look. Aether just raises his eyebrows and sighs. 

“We should probably talk about us,” Childe says in lieu of a hello. He’s been searching the entire school for Lumine (Aether was eating lunch with Venti and would not tell him where she was) before he finally finds her alone on the rooftop. 

She lets out a heavy breath. “I guess so.” 

Childe spreads his arms. “So. You know I like you.” 

Instead of the self-assured look he was expecting, Lumine tugs at her bangs, avoiding his gaze. “I suspected.” 

He waits a beat for her to continue. When she doesn’t immediately speak again, he plops down next to her. 

Finally, Lumine says, “It doesn’t really make sense. Are we compatible together? You do crimes and I solve problems.” 

“I don’t do that many crimes anymore,” says Childe, keyword being anymore.  

Lumine scowls. “I found you plotting an in-depth murder of my lovely friend Albedo the other day.” 

“He’s been flirting with you,” Childe says darkly. Lumine just shakes her head. Childe continues, “Well, the important part is, I haven’t actually done any crimes recently.” 

The look Lumine fixes him with borders on affectionate. “That’s true. You’ve been around me too much to have time to do crime.” 

“And what does that mean for us?” Childe smirks confidently, but on the inside, he feels anything but. His stomach is a mess of nerves. 

Once again, Lumine doesn’t look at him, tugging on her bangs. “Do I really have to say it…?” The flush high on her cheeks says everything Childe needs to know. 

“I guess not,” he says, his smirk transforming into a gleeful smile. He leans forward, just a breath away from her skin. “Lumi, won’t you look at me?” 

“Why are you doing this,” she hisses, bright red. Childe’s never seen her react like this. It’s so fucking cute!  

Childe pries her hand away from her face and stares her straight-on. “Hey, girlie,” he says softly. 

“Don’t call me that,” she stammers. 

He kisses her. In the middle of the school day, on the rooftop, the breeze fluttering through their hair. He kisses her like it is the only thing he ever wants to do, and it is. 

(They’re almost late for class.) 

Not much changes now that they’re official. Oh, of course, except for this: the kisses Childe sneaks whenever prying eyes are turned away, the way he seeks stability in snaking his arm over the set of her shoulders. Where the package used to be Lumine and Aether, it now includes a bonus Childe draped over his girlfriend. 

Wow. Girlfriend. What a word. 

“Now you’re not just creepy,” Scaramouche hisses after class, only a few days after Childe and Lumine start going out. (He’s going to start measuring all time in relation to when they got together.) 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Now you’re disgusting, too.” 

Childe swats in Scaramouche’s general direction. If he makes contact, he can’t tell: Scaramouche is so short, he might as well be a fly, and so any impact would be almost imperceptible. Not that he’s much taller than Lumine… 

Speaking of whom. Lumine is still diligently taking notes; from what Childe can see, she’s going over the day’s work and checking things off. She sits across the room from the two of them, in the front and by the sliding door. Aether, of course, usually sits at the desk next to her, but he’d nearly vanished as soon as the bell rang. 

“Childe,” a voice hisses. He’s half expecting it to be Scaramouche again, back with another quick retort about how creepy Childe is for staring, so he’s surprised when he sees Aether hiding between their two desks. 

“What?” Childe almost jumps out of his seat.

“Shush,” says Aether, pulling Childe down by the leg of his pants. “I need to talk to you.” 

“From there?” 

Aether scowls. “ No. Meet me outside the classroom.” And he crawls away, still hiding between desks and out the door. It takes Childe all of two seconds to meet him out there, one of which was wasted on mumbling a goodbye to Scaramouche, who hadn’t been paying attention at all. (He was glued to his phone — apparently he’d scored the phone number of a certain special someone. ) 

Childe stumbles out into the hallway and a perturbed Aether, hands on his hips. A bright smile is on his face as he says hi to someone passing by, but as soon as he sees Childe, his mouth morphs back into a scowl. “So,” Aether starts. Childe shifts nervously on his feet. 

“So,” he says tentatively. 

“I see you’re dating my sister.” 

“She told you?” Childe’s unable to mask his glee at the idea that Lumine would be telling people they were together. 

“Sort of. She told me to get used to you.” Aether crosses his arms over his chest. “And I’d be a bad brother if I didn’t give you the obligatory I’ll-break-your-knees talk.” 

“Could you reach them?” Childe says instinctively, then wishes he could sink into the ground. Sure, they’ve known each other for months now, but he’s still trying to get Aether to like him. Which will never happen if he keeps this up. 

Aether’s eyes narrow. “Funny. You come up with that just now?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Whatever. As I was saying,” Aether tries to continue, but another classmate passes by, and he brightens when they wave at him. Quickly, he looks back at Childe and clears his throat. “I mean, you should understand that Lumine and I are a package deal. You can’t be closer to her than she is to me.” 

Childe laughs humorlessly. “Well, it’s close in different ways, yeah?” 

“Still.” 

“Okay. Got it.” 

Aether nods before continuing. “And another thing. My own curiosity.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why get in a relationship right before graduating?” 

Shit… right. How could he forget? Childe’s been so wrapped up with being in love with Lumine that he’s completely forgotten to pay attention to the fact that they’re graduating soon. It just doesn’t matter to him that much. Graduation is just another stepping stone on the life ladder. High school, college, job. It’s all so formulaic and boring and easy.  

But Childe figures the real question Aether is asking is something along the lines of this: why date now and risk it ending painfully? 

So he stares Aether in the eyes and answers, “I’m in it for the long haul. I’m not going to give up.” 

“Good luck with that.” Aether leans back against the wall. His eyes are deadly and resolute when he says, “If you hurt her at all, you will not live another day.” 

“Okay,” Childe squeaks. He scampers back into the classroom. 

(“Aether!” Lumine bursts into his room that night. “Did you use your murder eyes on my boyfriend?” 

“You’re finally admitting it outright,” Aether crows. 

Lumine frowns. “I thought I was the murder eyes twin!” 

“What? We can’t both be?”) 

He’s on his way home that Friday night after another round of shoujo anime with the Harbingers when he snaps to attention under a streetlamp. The darkness licks at Childe’s toes, just like — like — 

He hates this walk, hates it with his entire being. Lumine’s number is pulled up on his phone before he knows it. 

“Hello?” she answers. 

“Lumi,” he says. “It’s dark. Did you get home safe?” 

“I’m on my way,” she replies. “What’s up? You’re heading home from Fatui night?” 

“Yeah.” Childe swallows thickly. He wants to tell her to walk safe in the dark, because you never know what might jump out at you. He wants to tell her how much he hates the dark, hates silence. Hates his father, alive only as a ghost, for leaving him. 

She must be psychic, because Lumine seems to pick up on the edge in his voice immediately. Just like that first time. “Where are you?” she demands. 

Childe looks up at the buildings around him. “The batting cages on the north side,” he says. It’s only a few more blocks to his house, but he can’t make his feet move. If he steps into the darkness he might come alive, might end up dead. Might get ambushed again. Knife at his throat, blood-hunger in the pit of his stomach, to hurt to maim to kill — 

“I’m on my way,” she says. 

“It’s far though,” he says. 

“I don’t care.” He hears her running through the speaker of his phone, the pounding of her feet, each steady breath. She sounds like she runs smoothly, beautifully, practiced. Childe can do nothing but stand there, easing away from the darkness of the night. 

Finally, emerging into the streetlamps’ light ahead of him, Lumine appears. Bathed in light, like an angel. Childe’s breath catches in his throat. 

“You’re really here,” he says. He forgets to hang up the phone. 

Lumine clicks it off on her end and moves toward him. Steps into the dark to get to him. Re-emerges a breath away. 

“I’ve noticed you don’t like the dark,” she says. 

“Yeah,” Childe says, his voice breathy. 

“Which way is your apartment? I’ll walk you there.” 

Childe steps toward the edge of the light. “This way.” 

As they walk, Lumine says, “Is there a story behind it?” 

He knows what she’s talking about. The dark. He thinks of the way he comes alive with his fists clenched, the aching pit of his stomach. 

“I was on the streets for a while,” he says. He feels his eyes cloud over and hopes Lumine can’t see them in the dark. Childe swallows thickly. “My dad kicked me out and, well, a fourteen year old kid is a pretty easy target for danger.” 

Lumine hums in acknowledgement. He tells her everything. 

How people cornered him one night, how he beat them senseless. How his fists bruised and ached. How people left him alone during the day, but night meant hiding, meant running, meant fighting. How sometimes he aches for it, the swing of fists, the bloody knuckles. They walk, and Lumine listens. 

He finishes talking when they get to his apartment. Childe takes a deep breath and starts up the stairs. A few steps up, he stops; Lumine isn’t following him. She looks up at him from the base of the stairs — a reverse from every time he drops her off at home — is this how she looks from so high up? 

Lumine stretches over the stairs, reaching for Childe’s hand. He gives it freely. 

Her hand is warm. 

“Do you want to come in?” Childe whispers. 

“Okay,” she says. He pulls her up the stairs. 

Childe flicks the lights on. There are dishes in the sink and clothes strewn around his room, but the living room is clean enough. Lumine steps in after him tentatively, toeing off her shoes at the door. 

“Welcome to my home,” Childe says. It’s surreal, really, to have Lumine stepping into the place he lives. His bed is in the other room. He sits on this couch and plays video games and thinks about her. 

It’s such a weird feeling, seeing her lighting up the space where he wallows. 

“It’s kind of a mess,” Childe says, scuffing a hand through his hair. Lumine looks around, her eyes searching the ceiling. 

“Looks sturdy,” she says. “You probably won’t die from a collapsed roof.” 

“I’m so glad,” he says back. “You haven’t even listened to the walls, though.” 

Lumine blinks at him and a slow grin spreads across her face. “You’re right. I should go around and knock on every single wall to make sure it’s safe.” 

Childe half-groans, half-laughs. “Please don’t. Please just sit on my couch and hang out with me like a normal girlfriend.” 

“Can do,” says Lumine, sweeping past him and dropping onto the couch, skirt fluttering with the movement. Like she’s already at home. Childe doesn’t miss the nervous tinge to her smile and silently thanks her for alleviating the tension of being a new couple alone together. “Come here.” 

He swallows thickly and sits next to her. Lumine immediately wraps her arms around his shoulders and hugs him tight against her chest. Childe’s face flushes. 

“W-What’s this for?” he stammers. 

“Just because,” she hums. “You’ve been through a lot, huh?” 

“I guess,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek against the fabric of her shirt. That thin cloth is the only thing separating him from her skin. 

Control yourself, Ajax. But that thought doesn’t help, only makes him wonder what his real name would sound like in her voice. How would she say it? Should he ask? 

How long has he been called Childe, now? Since those days in the darkness, he thinks, but he’d been tossing the name around even before then, a codeword to refer to him. A new name. Ajax is private and has fists coated in blood. Childe is… Childe is everything he wishes he could be. A fresh slate. 

“Thanks, Lumi,” says Childe. Says Ajax. 

If she catches the change in his voice, the heavy lilt to it, she doesn’t comment on it. He feels her smile against his hair and she says, “Anytime.” 

Childe presses a kiss to her shoulder. He’ll tell her about his name, too. One day. 

“Your apartment’s a lot smaller than I thought it’d be,” says Lumine. She lifts her head from him and looks around the main room. “It’s almost homey.” 

“Yeah, well, I spend most of my time here,” says Childe. He pulls away and grabs the remote, flicking the TV on. “Right here. I watch a lot of reality TV on Netflix.” 

Lumine scrunches her nose. “Why?” 

“Don’t you love seeing how frustrating and chaotic people are?” 

“No. I get enough of that with you.” Lumine taps a finger against her chin. “Maybe you’d make a good contestant on a reality show.” 

“I’d get arrested for murder,” Childe says lightly. 

“That’s exactly why!” Her eyes sparkle. 

Childe shakes his head and sighs affectionately. “Of course you’d think so.” 

(Lumine doesn’t go home that night. Childe sleeps on the couch, and when he wakes up, she’s curled into his side.) 

Graduation comes a lot faster than they’d anticipated. Lumine and Aether announce a second year named Xingqiu as the new president of the Going-Home Club, an honor he takes very seriously. (Xingqiu is known for leaving early to get to the library as fast as he can.) The Fatui wrap up this year’s D&D campaign and Signora threatens to hunt them all down if they don’t keep in touch over their Discord server. 

Zhongli is the student speaker at the graduation ceremony. He talks a lot about rocks: how memories erode, how history changes, how high school is one big rock-pool. His ramblings are lost on most of them, but his voice is strong and beautiful, and that’s what matters. 

Afterwards, they all congregate outside to throw their caps and take photos. Childe takes shot after shot of Lumine and Aether, arm in arm, grinning. Aether is off to school across the country, and Lumine’s going to GIU on a full-ride scholarship, and Childe’s going with her. Not far from them, Scaramouche gets smacked in the face by Mona’s cap, and the two of them end up in an all-out war. 

Aether claps Childe on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “Didn’t think you’d make it,” he says. 

“I think the school just wanted to get rid of me,” Childe says cheekily. 

“Ugh, lucky school. I’m stuck with you,” Lumine gripes affectionately. In response, Childe kisses her on the mouth. 

“Not in front of me!” Aether screeches. 

Lumine takes him to the park overlooking the town that evening. 

The sun sets over the buildings, light spilling out in streaks across the orange sky. It’s the same color as Childe’s hair. 

“I guess we’re off, now,” says Lumine. 

“Guess so.” He wraps his arm around her shoulder as she leans forward over the railing. 

“Childe—” she starts to say, but he interrupts her. 

“Call me Ajax,” he says. 

A knowing smile tugs at Lumine’s lips and she responds by pulling him down to her. She whispers his name against his mouth. Ajax. 

The future is scary. Uncertain. But one thing is certain: this, Lumine’s hands, the taste of her lips. 

“I love you,” he breathes. 

“Me, too.”