Archive of Our Own

Dawn Winery is entering another season of spring cleaning.

The establishment doesn’t compare to any normal manor, but Adelinde insists that there’s always some old decorations or belongings lying about that could either be donated, thrown out, returned to their original owners, or kept for sentimental purposes. When the first day of spring arrives, Adelinde orders the maids to clean the entire winery top to bottom, not to leave a single corner untouched and not to have a speck of dust remaining.

The other maids often bemoan their displeasure of this intense cleaning behind her back, but Adelinde’s sharp ears are not to be underestimated. One stern look in their direction and they’re scurrying back to their work without another sound.

“Master Diluc, you needn’t stay around to monitor our progress,” Adelinde chides him, trying to shoo him out of the winery that morning. “I’ve got everything under control.”

“I don’t underestimate your abilities to keep everyone hard at work. But this is my winery. Surely it wouldn’t hurt for me to help?” Diluc counters with a small smile, one that only he is comfortable showing around her and Elzer. “Besides, there’s some documents in my office that I need to organize.”

The head maid sighs, knowing that she won’t be able to make him budge. Once he’s made up his mind, it’s hard to drive Diluc away. Ever the stubborn one—he truly hasn’t changed since he was younger.

“Miss Adelinde?” Diluc and Adelinde turn their heads to see Hillie and Moco approaching them. Moco was carrying a cardboard box while Hillie had a duster in one hand.

“What is it?” Adelinde asks them, almost about to lecture on how time spent talking would be better spent on cleaning the winery.

“We were cleaning out one of the closets when we found this box,” Moco holds out the box and Hillie pulls back the flaps. Adelinde and Diluc take a peek inside. “It seems to be some children’s toys. Should we donate them?”

He recognizes these toys. After all, these were his toys. Not only his, but also…

“No.” Diluc immediately answers, almost too fast that the two junior maids jump back in surprise. He realizes his mistake and clears his throat. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you two.”

He gestures for Moco to hand over the box and she hurriedly walks over to him, pulling back once he’s got it secure under his arm.

“I’ll find out what to do with these toys. Thank you for showing them to me, Hillie, Moco,” He nods at the two. They both bow, but by the time they lift their heads, Diluc has already made it to the top of the stairs and has turned the corner down the hall, disappearing without another sound.

The story behind these toys is a simple one. One day, Crepus took Diluc and Kaeya to a toy store. At the time, Kaeya had just recently been adopted into the family, so it was also a way of helping him settle into his new home. Kids are attracted to new, shiny toys after all.

Diluc and Kaeya scoured the store together. They held hands as Diluc pointed out all the newest and hottest toys that were brought into the market—stuffed animals, pinwheels, dollhouses, balls, etc. The toy store was a little kid’s absolute dream, having everything that a kid could ever want. However, none of the toys that Diluc pointed caught Kaeya’s interest.

No, what caught his younger brother’s interest was a wooden slingshot.

At the time, both Diluc and the store manager were perplexed by his decision. All of these amazing toys and he chose a slingshot? Crepus merely chuckled and ruffled both of their hair, reassuring Kaeya if that was what he wanted, he would buy it. A winery master has a stream of wealth at his fingertips, it really was no problem. So, while Kaeya got the slingshot, Diluc got himself a toy horse on a stick.

The three of them returned to the manor shortly after and both of the young boys were in high spirits. Diluc was running around the living room with the wooden toy horse, declaring himself the cavalry captain of the knights. Meanwhile, Kaeya was on the couch, fiddling around with his slingshot and the little balls that came along with it. Oh how naive Diluc was at the time, thinking that Kaeya was missing out because he got a slingshot. He was having the time of his life with that toy horse on a stick!

He made the poor mistake of slowing down, taking a break to catch his breath after running laps around the living room. His back was turned to Kaeya, and before Diluc knew it—

SMACK! Something hit him on the back of his head!

The impact wasn’t hard enough to drive Diluc to tears, but it was enough pressure that he was able to feel it. He rubbed the back of his head in confusion before turning around to stare back at Kaeya.

They both stared at each other for a few long seconds. Kaeya was holding his slingshot in one hand, pointing directly at Diluc. His other arm was pulled back just enough that he was caught in the act. Kaeya laughed nervously, hiding his slingshot behind his back and looking away as if nothing happened.

Diluc couldn’t believe it—Kaeya actually shot him!

Even with his poor depth perception, Kaeya was able to shoot him right in the back of the head with no problem. His hair might be red, but Diluc wasn’t a walking target! He puffed up his cheeks and glared at him, hoping that was enough to get the message across. Luckily Kaeya took the hint and proceeded to shoot at other things in the living room that wouldn’t get him in trouble. There were several valuables displayed—it wouldn’t do them any good if they broke one.

Eventually, Diluc’s curiosity got the best of him and after running several more laps, he laid his toy horse against the arm of the couch and joined Kaeya. They both messed around with it, using the other chair across from them as their primary target.

At one point, Crepus had walked into the living room trying to find something. They both looked at each other before nodding, and Kaeya lifted his arms up as he readied the slingshot. They held their breaths as Crepus kept moving around, his back turned to them. Finally, he stood still, both hands resting on his hips as he muttered something under his breath.

Kaeya took the shot and they both reeled back when Crepus rubbed the back of his head, whipping around to face the both of them. Diluc and Kaeya screeched, jumping off the couch as they went to hide. Crepus started laughing, coming towards them and going on about how he was going to catch them.

Unfortunately, Crepus did lecture the both of them to not hit others with the slingshot, but he did promise to help them find suitable targets to test it out on. Both boys were ecstatic.

There are several more stories surrounding the toy horse and the slingshot. One of these stories included Diluc and Kaeya both pretending to be knights with the toy horse, declaring that they were going to be the strongest knights in all of Mondstadt.

They gave each other absurd titles and came up with equally absurd achievements to back up those titles. Sometimes, they would even drag along Crepus to act as their grand master, and would get mad every time he didn’t use the correct title or name the achievements in the right order. Eventually, Crepus did remember them all off the top of his head. Diluc and Kaeya were both fascinated and asked how he was able to do it. Crepus called it his little secret.

Diluc found that the reason why he remembered all of their titles was because he wrote them down. When he first moved into the winery and had to clean the office, he found a black notebook tucked into one of his father’s desk drawers. Curiosity got the best of him and he took a peek at its contents, only to find that while most of the pages were related to work, some of them were fully dedicated to all the achievements he and Kaeya came up with.

And those were just a few that Diluc could remember from reading the list. There were more, way more, enough that it could give one a headache. Crepus certainly was a strong character to remember all of these in a certain order that his sons wanted them to be in.

Another such story included the slingshot once more—this time, it was used for seabird-hunting.

Every summer, Crepus took them down to the beach and they would spend the afternoon engaging in various activities. Sometimes they would collect seashells or they would throw a ball around. One of the activities that Kaeya and Diluc took a particular interest in was seabird-hunting.

Kaeya, despite his poor depth perception, had practically mastered his slingshot and could even hit moving targets. Hitting birds was no problem. Besides, if it was food, his chances of hitting his target were higher. Diluc had watched him get several boars with only a rock.

Sometimes, he would purposefully miss the birds, causing them to disperse far too many times to Diluc’s liking. One time, he had taken the slingshot out of Kaeya’s hands and insisted he would be doing all the shots from then on. Unfortunately, Diluc wasn’t as skilled, and his shot didn’t even get far enough to scare the birds away. How embarrassed he was—even more offending that Kaeya took back the slingshot while he was laughing at Diluc and then proceeded to shoot a bird with perfect precision.

He remembered running to Crepus, whining and complaining that Kaeya was messing around with him and was being mean to him. Kaeya would be equally as whiny as Diluc, both of them clinging to one of Crepus’s legs as they argued and tried to get him to take a side.

He never did, of course.

Diluc’s not sure why he’s recalling these memories. All of them come from times long gone—he can’t possibly have those times ever again.

Crepus is dead. Kaeya is no longer his brother. The family he had known all of his life is no longer with him.

The toys have seen better days. The fabric on the toy horse has nearly lost all of its color, and it’s missing one of its button eyes. The slingshot isn’t any better, nearly chipping on the handle. Both have collected so much dust that Diluc coughed when retrieving them out of the box.

He’s equally at a loss for how quick he was to tell the maids not to donate these toys. Further inspection shows that these aren’t fit to be donated to the orphanage, but a part of Diluc can’t bring himself to throw them out either.

He’s far from considering himself the sentimental type. But there’s no denying that one look at these toys reminds him of simpler times—times that weren’t burdened by the problems of today. Times where the smallest arguments were solved in seconds. Times where he, Kaeya, and Crepus were all laughing together. He sighs heavily. This isn’t like him.

Distant laughing echoes in his ears. He looks down at the toys one last time before shaking his head and putting them back in the box.

Without another word, Diluc tucks the box into the deepest drawer of his desk before closing it shut. Those memories—gone, but never forgotten. And much like most of what Diluc has done since returning to Mondstadt, he shuts those memories out.

Hidden from the public eye, but festering in his heart so deeply he nearly bleeds.