Chapter Text
The sound of the waves overwhelms him. The sound of those same waves drowns everything else surrounding him.
Here, sitting on the seawall and looking out onto the waves, Diluc glances not at the horizon, but at the rush of the sea as it hits the land.
Wave after wave. Crash after crash. Louder and louder.
The music that plays in his ears is paltry, nothing at all compared to the wind and the tide making itself known in front of him.
It’s hard, he can’t even tell what song is now playing. The old music player on his hand could say, but Diluc never looks away from the sight in front of him.
Not for the sound, not for a name. The crashing of waves enraptures him into stillness. And yet—
“Is the view of the sea that beautiful?”
The waves had overwhelmed the footsteps, something Diluc wasn’t able to catch. But not—not the voice. So he turns.
Is greeted by something unlike the waves. Calm eyes, smile. Nothing harsh.
So unlike the waves.
“Well I suppose it is rather breathtaking to witness,” the newcomer laughs, and when he looks towards the waters Diluc had stared at, the latter sees a shine of gold, reflected clearly on eyes far too bright for someone so, so—
“Ah,” they speak again, and Diluc watches them move, look somewhat embarrassed. “I’m guessing you can’t hear me.”
They point at their own ears, a sign to remind Diluc of the music still playing. The earphones in his ears play a tune he should recognize, but doesn’t.
“No,” he responds, raising a hand to remove the buds from his ears. He shoves them in the same coat pocket as his music player and makes sure to press pause before arranging the coat as it combats the winds brought by the waves.
“I can hear you fine,” Diluc continues. “The sea was just loud.”
“Loud?”
“The waves,” and as if hearing Diluc speak, it crashes even louder beside them. “They’re yelling.”
“Yelling,” the newcomer pauses, and Diluc doesn’t glance to see what expression may accompany the humor echoing in their voice. “That’s an interesting way of putting it.”
There’s no need for him to deal with this.
So when the stranger continues looking out into the sea, Diluc moves himself to stand. His companion makes a sound, an effort to call out, but it’s drowned out by something louder.
He ignores the newcomer’s efforts. The waves that crash, louder and louder, make sure to help him.
Diluc doesn’t bother typing the notes on his phone. He writes on the map itself the schedule for tomorrow’s ferry. The scratch of his mechanical pencil is clear on the paper, even when he hears the sound of other guests in the inn just beyond the divider.
He had suspected—this inn, of course, would be popular. Not for a rowdy bunch, no. The voices on the other side seem to simply be enjoying themselves, but there’s still propriety soaked in their pleasantries. So elegant. Diluc doesn’t bother listening in, only continues writing on his map, his phone open on one side to act as both a paperweight and as a reference as it shows the ferry’s website full of timetables.
The map shows the other islands, other places in Inazuma separated from here by the sea. And the sea, the waves that it causes, as he writes down things for him to remember for tomorrow, Diluc continues hearing it. The sound of—
“Ah.”
Another voice. One that makes Diluc stop, the scratch of his pencil put to an abrupt halt. A sense of foreboding, one felt before he turns to the open door to the hallway.
Again, again. It’s that person again.
And it seems they’re smiling.
“This is a surprise,” they comment. Behind him, Diluc sees slight surprise present in the waitress’ face. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
Diluc frowns at the words, continues watching as the newcomer is led by the waitress to the only other table on this side of the partition. Figures it would be crowded, what with the group on the other side. All pleasantries and greetings and congratulatory remarks.
“I hope you don’t mind me staying here,” they comment, clear enough to be aware of Diluc observing them. “You looked like you would rather be left alone.”
“It’s fine,” he answers, far too quickly. Because it’s not as if he can demand this area to be left entirely empty just for him.
“I was surprised to see you,” they tell Diluc, the latter now going back to writing notes on his map. “It’s quite a coincidence really.”
“I guess it is.”
“Are you traveling alone?” They ask him, as if they cannot tell at all that Diluc is preoccupied with something else. “You don’t seem to have company with you.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“That doesn’t look like it’s enough for two people.” The observation makes Diluc glance up, towards his empty plate. A simple meal he’d ordered for himself after wandering around the city. When he finally glances back at the newcomer, he sees them smile.
“It’s easy to tell.”
Diluc would give a retort, maybe something about personal space, but the waitress from earlier returns, already with her a plate of food for the other.
It looks like he’s not the only one who’s traveling alone.
“Oh, would it be possible to add sake?” Diluc hears him ask. He sees them raise a hand to point right at him. “One for me and another for my friend.”
What—
“Friend?” Diluc asks as the waitress walks out to the hallway.
“I suppose ‘stranger’ would work better?” They ask, tone almost teasing. It’s unnerving. “Please humor me. A drink between two lone travelers would be fine, wouldn’t it?”
Diluc takes a while, a while longer to respond. “I don’t drink.”
“Ah. Is that so?”
When the waitress comes back with two bottles, Diluc watches again, doesn’t ever look away at the newcomer asking for both bottles on his table instead. Doesn’t look away at them asking Diluc what drink he would prefer instead.
He asks for juice. The waitress brings it for him some minutes later.
The quiet feels much more noticeable as they wait, as the group on the other side of the partition continues prattling on and on.
“I know it’s a tad too late for introductions,” they tell Diluc after two glasses. There’s not at all a sign of inebriation on their face. “But my name is Zhongli.”
“I’m—Diluc.”
“Have you come here for sightseeing?” Zhongli asks him. With the arrival of his drink, Diluc has now folded the map on one side of his table. Even now, Zhongli remains on his own, still some ways away. “That’s my plan at the moment, you see.”
“Somewhat,” Diluc answers, taking a sip of his drink. “To relax, mostly.”
“Is it also your first time?” Zhongli questions, taking his own sip. “I’ve never been to Inazuma before, so I’m hoping to go to some interesting places.”
“You can find those on your own.”
“I suppose I can,” Zhongli laughs. He downs the drink in one go. “But it would be better with some company.”
“Shouldn’t you have gone with someone else then?”
“Ah, well.” Zhongli pauses, it makes Diluc caution another glance, watches him be contemplative. “I don’t think it would work. I’m taking some time off, you see.”
“Time off?”
“Yes, from most of reality,” and it’s strange how Diluc watches Zhongli laugh at his own words. Like that’s a joke and not at all—
“I planned on heading to the Narukami Shrine tomorrow, you see,” Zhongli continues. Casual as you please, drinking and pouring more for him to drink. “And perhaps take a train to Tatarasuna or Yashiori the next. Would you like to go with me?”
“Huh?”
“A stranger would be best as a temporary companion, don’t you think?” Diluc sees Zhongli grin at his own words. “It would be fun.”
“Fun.”
“Enjoyable,” Zhongli adds. Diluc wonders if Zhongli’s ignoring the confusion present on his face. It makes Diluc glance down at his glass.
On the other side of the partition, the voices are slowly dwindling, goodbyes are slowly heard. Diluc’s not sure what time it is, but the dark may have been enough to bring a slow and sure end to the party of the other group.
Slow to silence, almost nothing left to hear.
And in that, that silence, Diluc thinks he hears—
“Aren’t you being too careless?”
“Am I?”
“Inviting someone you don’t know,” Diluc’s thumb brushes on the side of his glass. Still cold, he lifts it to drink. “Don’t you have some sense of self preservation?”
“Are you saying you’re a danger to me?” Zhongli chuckles.
“You don’t know me,” he repeats again, wanting Zhongli to get it. “I could be anyone. A thief or maybe even—”
“A killer?” Zhongli jokes. When Diluc slowly looks up again, there’s that smile again. Nonchalant. “Are you one?”
“Would I really say yes if I was?”
“Point taken.” Diluc still watches as Zhongli downs another glass, as Zhongli pours another without blinking. Without the least bit intoxicated. It’s clear when Zhongli speaks, nothing slurred, only sure. “But you also wouldn’t have brought up the possibility in the first place if you really were one.”
“So pushy,” Diluc comments, grazing his thumb once more before drinking the rest of his juice. From the other table, there’s again low laughter.
“Traveling around Inazuma would be quite lonely,” Zhongli tells him. “But I suppose a stranger would be better at the moment.”
“I’m going to Watatsumi.”
“We can do that after exploring Narukami.” Another, another aggravating smile. “Just a moment of companionship during our temporary stay here in Inazuma. Would that be much of an issue?”
Diluc thinks it is.
“Unless,” Zhongli speaks again, a hint of uncertainty. “You were already waiting for someone else to accompany you?”
He thinks of his ticket, a solo flight from Mondstadt to here. Planned haphazardly, with no thoughts of anyone on that flight with him. Diluc sighs.
“Shrine tomorrow,” he says. Looking straight at Zhongli’s eyes. “Watatsumi next.”
“Of course,” the responding smile he gets is so bright, the lights above them pale in comparison. “I’ll wait for you in the lobby tomorrow, 8am.”
“Won’t that be too early?”
“It’s quite a hike up to the shrine,” is what he’s told before Zhongli presses the button on his table to call for a waitress. “And there are other places nearby of course. Those would be interesting to check too.”
“And you really can’t do without someone accompanying you, isn’t that right?”
“It makes things more exciting, doesn’t it?” And when the question is directed at him, Diluc takes the chance of the arrival of the waitress to not provide an answer.
“The path is mainly unused but some pilgrims do try to walk through there for the full experience,” the tour guide tells them, customer service smile in full force. Diluc gives one more glance at her brooch, the symbol of the Yashiro Commission a clear mark of where she’s from. “We allow people to pass through there, but please be mindful of the markers. You may end up circling the mountain if you don’t.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Zhongli tells her. Diluc nods in thanks as he does, keeping himself quiet during the entire discussion. All the while, Zhongli’s gotten a map of the surrounding area and some newfound acquaintance with some of the other tourists who’d thought to visit the shrine like them. Diluc watches him laugh as the others comment on their likely adventure, given how the others had simply chosen to follow the tour guide to the specialized elevator to take them close to the top.
“Did we really have to hike up there?” Diluc asks once they’ve gotten started. Decrepit bridges making each step they make creak, sounding like it’s what will make these things finally give way.
“It’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Zhongli responds, hand carefully on the side of the mountain the bridge has attached itself to. “It’d end too quickly if we went with them.”
Diluc makes sure not to make it obvious, the small pause. A momentary thing, him not making any further steps. It’s unnoticeable, so he continues walking. Somewhere, somehow, all the way up here, he thinks he hears a sound of—
“Ah, here’s the marker,” a voice tells him, and he looks toward where Zhongli’s pointing. A symbol placed beside three stones. “This spot— the guide mentioned we’ll have to climb somewhere steep, but there should be ropes… Hold on.”
It’s a small area, the place the marker is in. A small flat spot of the mountainside, a cliff that the stairs and bridges lead them to. He doesn’t pay attention to Zhongli’s mumbling, looking at one side of the area where an old stone lantern has been placed, muttering things about markers and ropes and paths.
No, Diluc doesn’t pay attention to that, just the same way he merely tuned out as Zhongli asked questions earlier to the tour guide. Instead, he looks out, towards where this small cliff of theirs is facing. Right there, out into the open sea.
It’s so far, so miraculously far, yet he thinks he still hears something. The sound of those waters crashing on the shore.
“Found them,” Zhongli remarks, voice louder, a bit more excited. “It’s attached to the top and it looks new, but the vines were covering them.”
Diluc doesn’t really look away, gives himself a bit more time to stare. Just a few seconds, just some moments longer. But when he thinks it best to stop and continue, his body fully turns to see Zhongli already right next to him.
“The view’s nice” he comments, not looking away from the same thing Diluc’s been staring at. Diluc doesn’t look again though, just glances at Zhongli’s expression. “You can see Araumi from here.”
“And Dragonspine.”
“That too.” It’s a careful lean forward. As if, by doing so, Zhongli would be able to stare better at the frozen mountain so clearly far away in the mainland. “That’s another good place to visit.”
“It’s too cold there.”
“Have you been there?” Zhongli asks. The rest are so far away, so small and so barely anything. Nothing in comparison to the might of that desolate, snowy place. Diluc doesn’t wonder, doesn’t question such a place.
“I have.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
“It’s just a cold place,” Diluc comments, walking away from the cliffside and towards the mountain, one side having been broken down for easier climbing. A less steep climb that’s made even easier with the ropes to hold on to. “With some old ruins, just like Araumi.”
“That still sounds interesting.” Zhongli’s voice is still close, evident in how he easily followed Diluc towards where they’re supposed to climb. He doesn’t touch, but a hand is raised behind him. A precaution as Diluc slowly takes his steps, hand on the rope, frown in full. Completely concentrating.
“It’s too cold,” Diluc adds. “So it’s not like people can visit the place easily.”
“But you said you’ve been there.”
“Just near the base,” he huffs out, far too preoccupied with making sure he doesn’t slip, what with Zhongli walking up right behind him. “They don’t let tourists climb any higher than that.”
“That’s a shame,” and from the sound of it, Zhongli says it in complete sincerity. “If there were ruins, you would have likely found well preserved ones the higher you climbed.”
“Better the warmth than freezing myself for a glimpse of some old rocks.”
And Diluc doesn’t know why, but Zhongli laughs. Quick, he stops right when Diluc’s reached the top, turned towards his companion only to see a carefree grin on Zhongli’s face.
“I suppose that makes sense.”
He raises a brow but doesn’t further comment.
Doesn’t do anything more than that, really, and it’s why he allows the conversation to drop when Zhongli points out at more wooden stairs at the far end of the new cliffside they’ve ended up in.
Diluc doesn’t join the prayers.
The same group of tourists from earlier had already been halfway through them, paying respects to the grand tree that the Narukami Shrine is known for. Some greet the two of them upon arrival, but Diluc doesn’t join in when Zhongli starts walking up to the tree too. He stays behind long enough to see the latter putting his hands together in prayer before wandering off to some side of the wide shrine.
It’s filled with people, tourists taking pictures of something or another, believers praying and speaking to shrine maidens. Some locals, others foreigners. Diluc weaves his way through the crowd, makes sure to wander around to some place more secluded.
It’s there, on one side of the shrine’s buildings, overlooking a view that again shows him the sea, the mainland, the edges of Mondstadt. It’s there that he takes his time watching, sees the far-off mountains, sees the sea. Hears the sound of something far away, the waves coming up and surrounding him, the tune of its harshness clear and can be touched.
It’s there that he opens his mouth, speaks something, lets his voice take hold of the waves and make it his own.
It’s there that the waves form words, spilling out of his mouth a sentence of something Diluc hates, the crash of the waters—the sound of it carelessly ripping such things out of him.
It’s there, when the waves die down, that Zhongli finds him.
“You seem to really like this view.”
“It’s less crowded here,” is what Diluc gives as an excuse. He lets Zhongli approach, accepts the dango the latter’s somehow procured with a quick thanks.
Despite that, perhaps due to his inability to notice Diluc’s attempt to dodge the question or just his unwillingness for it to happen, Zhongli continues. “Is that place special for you?”
“Which one?”
“That,” and Diluc follows Zhongli’s hand, the stick holding the remains of his snack pointed towards not just Dragonspine, but the area beyond it. “Mondstadt. Is it special?”
“It’s a good view,” a pause. “To pass the time.”
“I suppose it is,” Zhongli agrees. “Is it a place you want to go to?”
“I’ve been there before,” and Diluc bites off the last of his own snack. Swallows easily before staring right at Zhongli, no frown, mouth a straight line. Eyes conveying nothing. Not even the sound of the crashing, waves hitting the balcony they stand. Loud and ready to drown him. “And that’s all there is to it.”
There’s no beat, no pause, at the way Zhongli easily, silently, changes the topic. “Then if you’re done, how about a fortune slip? As a memento of this hike.”
“Do you believe in those things?”
“You don’t?” It’s funny, how Zhongli questions him as if he’s genuinely surprised by the notion.
“Putting faith on a piece of writing doesn’t really get you far,” he comments, but even then Zhongli tilts his head.
“Of course not,” Zhongli tells him. “But it’s what gives people hope, no matter what may be written on it.”
“I’d prefer to take what I want with my own hands,” Diluc says it the same time he starts walking away from the edge of the balcony, clearly turning away from his companion.
“So no fortune then?” Zhongli asks, following him out back into the crowd. “Not even as a simple souvenir?”
He wants to raise a brow, he really does. So Diluc makes sure he makes that face at Zhongli, makes sure his grimace is seen even as the two of them exchange their bamboo sticks for fortunes from the shrine lady.
“Don’t you think it’d be easier to take a boat from Yashiori? We can take a train going there.”
“A ferry from Ritou would be cheaper.”
“But also longer. Are you that willing to stay on a boat for seven hours?”
“You just want to see the serpent on Yashiori.”
“And you don’t?”
“The divine priestess’ the primary supervisor of this entire island,” the boatman tells them when he drops the two off. Them, and a few other tourists who’ve also thought to visit Watatsumi. “She’s the one handling the negotiating for the train, I hear. So a boat ride’s the only way in and out of this place, unfortunately.”
“It’s not unfortunate,” Zhongli corrects them. “Thank you very much for letting us know.”
“Would she mind it if tourists also visit the old shrine?” Diluc asks as a follow-up, far more proactive than yesterday.
The boatman nods, thankfully enough, before responding in full. “Yeah, they don’t mind people going there. But it’ll be less crowded and all—since people prefer the coral shrine in the middle.”
“That’s good enough,” Diluc thanks them for the trouble, and the two make sure to confirm the schedule for their return trip before heading to the guard manning the dock’s exit.
“You seem excited,” Zhongli tells him as they’re handed back their passports, the security check happening in quick succession. “Was this the place you’ve been wanting to go to this entire time?”
“If you’ve already forgotten,” Diluc frowns at him. “I told you I wanted to go to Watatsumi two days ago.”
“I did not,” but the smile that accompanies Zhongli’s face is all sorts of playful. “But it’s still amusing to see how much you’ve been looking forward to this.”
He rolls his eyes. It’s the only thing Diluc can do in the face of sheer amusement.
It’s Zhongli that again, changes the topic for them. “Should we head to Bourou Village first? I hear they have delicacies only found in Watatsumi.”
“You clearly already have an agenda upon coming here.”
“It’s a once in a lifetime sort of trip,” Diluc is told. Zhongli doesn’t take his hand to drag him, but he follows along regardless. The path of sand makes way to lush, blue-green grass showing them the way deeper into the island. “It would be a shame not to try them.”
“Mouun Shrine,” he says, words stern and final. “After touring the village.”
“Of course,” Zhongli nods, a skip in his step so easily visible, no matter how minuscule the notion may be. “I wouldn’t dare forget our main reason for coming here.”
It’s minuscule too, the sarcasm Diluc can clearly hear. The teasing tone, a tone so different from what he normally hears.
The sea is loud, the waves more so. But it’s far less of a sound at the moment. Far less of a crash, even when Watatsumi is all sea, all ocean. The sound of such things is paling here. Here, walking the same gait as this man, Zhongli smiling at him so openly.
Diluc takes his time trying out the myriad of dishes presented to them as they wander.
Around two, three. Those were the tourists slowly leaving the shrine when the two of them pass through the bridge. The group nods at them both, as if recognizing that they are also there for sightseeing. Diluc nods back.
“Looks like a lot have already left,” Zhongli mutters, the remains of what used to be the first great shrine now only left with aging stone, overgrown with moss, windswept by the ocean breeze. The torii gates slowly leading any visitor up the broken steps are paler, a sign of age so different from the ones they saw climbing up Narukami Shrine.
It’s the sun, the way the light is no longer just everywhere, the way the sky is no longer just blue. It’s the hues of oranges and reds that the sky emits upon them, it’s what makes the lack of a shine, the lack of what should have been its shade on these gates all the more apparent.
Diluc walks up the steps, careful. Uncaring for any form of devotion to some god he doesn’t believe in, but still thinking it necessary to do this, to pay some form of respect to a shrine that once linked the people to the—
“It’s completely broken,” Zhongli comments. A whisper for a voice. “They haven’t thought to rebuild it at all.”
“They must have their reasons,” he responds, also a barely there voice. Here, by the cliffside, in some place sacred and so intricately tied to the sea, it seems the waves again grow louder. “It’s enough that they left it alone without actually breaking it down.”
“Still a shame,” the voice behind Diluc is accompanied with careful steps too. Zhongli follows him as he walks to the side of the remains of Mouun Shrine, a lone stone carving by the cliffside stands far from the rest. Diluc walks towards it.
“Diluc.”
And Diluc stops. “What?”
“Ah, no. Nothing really,” a laugh, in awe. It makes Diluc glance, just a little, at the person still following him. “Just your hair.”
“What about it?”
“The way it’s covering the view,” Zhongli starts, pauses for a while as if contemplating his choice of words. “The way it’s covering the sun, I mean. It’s— glowing.”
The words make Diluc pause too, somewhat longer than the other. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“More of a statement,” Zhongli corrects. “A careful observation, if you will.”
He’s lost count of the times he’s had to roll his eyes. But Diluc does, makes sure Zhongli sees it before turning back to walk towards where he intended to go.
When they face the stone monument, a small thing with the shape of a swirl so evidently sacred carved onto it, Diluc hears Zhongli laugh beside him.
“You really do like it, huh?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The view,” Diluc is told, a smile directed at him. Like Zhongli understands, like he gets it. “You can see the mainland from here.”
And that’s true, Diluc knows. Diluc was more than aware of that even before they stopped walking.
But that’s not it. “It’s not like I like looking over there.”
“Hard to consider given the number of times I’ve seen you staring,” the grin is still there. Diluc knows that too. Can very well hear it even if he stares towards the familiar snowy mountain so far, far away.
“I don’t,” and it’s true. “I just end up looking, cause it’s easy to hear.”
“Hear what?”
And Diluc doesn’t stop, just continues. “The waves.”
“Waves?” Zhongli raises a brow. “Well, since we’re this close to the cliff yes, but it’d be easier down at the beach.”
“Not those,” and he’s still staring. Diluc still stares not just at Mondstadt, at Liyue, at the mainland so far, far from his reach. He stares at what divides them. The ocean and its depths, the waves that walk along its surface. And he speaks. “These.”
There’s no fine line again, nothing to distinguish what is and what isn’t Diluc’s voice. What comes out of his mouth is unrelenting just as it was back in Narukami Shrine. The sound of the waves takes root in his lungs, gushes forth out of his lips.
“That sound,” Zhongli murmurs, doesn't continue, and Diluc turns away from him. Turns instead to where the sun has begun its slow descent into the dark.
Diluc— he continues. “Compelling, isn’t it? A sound that makes you want to listen.”
Zhongli doesn’t say a word, so Diluc keeps speaking. “I don’t like seeing the view, but the water it— reminds me of this, how it comes out—makes people listen to what it says.” Even me, Diluc thinks but doesn’t say.
“So when we met—”
“It’s hard,” he says, because this is also true. “It’s hard to ignore, so I tune it out even when I can’t help but listen.”
Can’t help but allow himself to listen, to let the waves take hold of his throat and pour forth sounds of something crashing, something roaring, out of his mouth. Can’t help but want to tune it out with anything, even with just the sounds of an aging music player.
Zhongli doesn’t say anything, and Diluc frowns at the sun, frowns as it slowly buries itself in the ocean that has long taken hold of Diluc’s voice.
“We should go,” Diluc says eventually, because who knows if tourists are even allowed this late. “The boat will be here soon.”
And when he starts to walk away, it’s this time that he looks, sees a smile on Zhongli’s face.
“It seems our trip will be ending far quicker than I expected then.”
“It’s been only three days.” It’s the limit Diluc has allowed himself to stay here after all. “It’s to be expected.”
“The days did fly by rather quickly,” Zhongli agrees. He turns too to start walking alongside Diluc.
“It’s a shame though,” he continues, right when Diluc takes one step down the old stone steps. “With what’s happened, it’s a shame it would be ending so soon.”
“That’s just how things are when you’re on vacation.”
“That’s true too,” Diluc hears him say. It’s all he hears, no step, no movement. He looks back to see Zhongli standing still, looking at him with that same old smile.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s— a shame, you see,” Zhongli starts, the first time in this entire trip wherein his voice echoes hesitation. “To have this really become just something that happens once in a lifetime.”
“What are you—”
“Would you mind if we stay in touch?” the question is asked without giving Diluc time to finish, and when he widens his eyes incredulously, Zhongli continues. “I think we’ve gotten along well enough for me to ask that of you, don’t you think?”
Diluc doesn’t know how long he stares, doesn’t even know when the frown on his face started forming.
“I would mind.”
“Is it that much of a problem?”
“It is,” it really, really is. Diluc feels his jaw tightening, hears sounds of something familiar echoing. “It’s a huge problem.”
“Why?”
“Because I only agreed to accompany you for the duration of this trip,” Diluc says, adamant. Harsh and stubborn. Zhongli remains unmoving.
“And why did you?” Diluc hears him ask. It’s getting darker, the movements of Zhongli’s mouth—they’re getting harder to see. “Why did you agree to accompany me regardless of what you wanted?”
“Because—”
“Why did you go on a trip alone yet agree to the whims of a stranger?” Zhongli continues, there’s no time for Diluc to speak. “What did you want to accomplish?”
“There’s nothing—”
“Is there really?” It’s relentless, it’s irritating. It’s Zhongli endlessly speaking, voice ironically devoid of mocking, of taunting. “What did you want to do by being here? With me even?”
Irritating, so tirelessly irritating.
The voice of the person standing a step higher, the sound of something about to overtake him. His voice unrecognizable, his breathing turning labored.
All the while, Zhongli just speaks. “What did you want? Out of all of this?”
“Because I wanted—” so maybe that’s why, it’s why Diluc doesn’t know which it is, if it’s his own, if it’s the waves, if such things even matter anymore given how so significantly intertwined those two are.
Still, he recognizes the sound of waves crashing when he hears it. It accompanies words—those that cannot help but burst forth and overwhelm. Waves crashing. Louder and louder.
Because I wanted—you, still. To love—
“I love you.”
A pin drop. That’s what it was. The way such words halt the crashing of the waves that come out of his lips. The way Diluc widens his eyes, irritated, irritating.
Zhongli’s still looking at him, looking uncaring about those three words that come out of his mouth.