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Every Sunday morn, in the hours when the sun slowly colors the horizon in hues of yellow, pink, and orange, a lone soul writhes under the shadow of the single fragrant cedar tree standing on the islet in the middle of the lake near Dawn Winery. A soul torn into a thousand pieces, forever tormented by whatever curse that plagues his body, mind, and spirit.
Every Sunday morn, in the hours when both Mondstadt and Liyue are supposed to be asleep, Diluc Ragnvindr hides behind a bush, rock, or tree and watches said beautiful stranger burst into fragments, surrounded by nothing but empty cliffs that never echo his voiceless anguish.
Adeptus. The word has lodged itself in Diluc's mind five weeks ago, around the second time he's seen the man in that same position—curled up in a ball with his right hand fisting the fabric at his chest. Diluc doesn't know if the stranger really belongs with the adepti. And if he is an adeptus, what is he doing here in Mondstadt every week? Shouldn't he be in Liyue to remedy his chronic agony?
The same questions run through Diluc's mind the longer he stays as the only witness to such a sight. The first time he saw the man was on mere accident, with Diluc fatigued from patrolling the city the whole night and trying to unwind around Dawn Winery. The stranger had seemed like a figment of his imagination at the time, some mirage of the misery in Diluc's chest to provide him with momentary and fictional reprieve.
He's real, though. That's why Diluc always comes to this place without fail for seven Sundays now. The man is real, and Diluc wants to keep looking at him.
Truly, it is a shameful attitude from a man like him, who is always trying to appear honorable and distinguished. He does admit there's nothing to be proud of, especially from something he's repeatedly done in the last two months on his own accord. What kind of perversion does he harbor to be spying on someone who seems determined to hide his suffering from prying eyes? It would be acceptable if it continued to be coincidences, if Diluc doesn’t go out of his way to pursue the man, going as far as setting alarms so he’d wake up on time.
The softest gasp escapes the man and mingles with the air. He should be at least several inches shorter than Diluc, yet he appears to be a lot smaller now as he rises from the grass. His back faces Diluc, his shoulders stiff with tension. His fist is in a tight clench, flexing his tattooed right arm. He's an Anemo Vision wielder, and Diluc has been wondering, ever since he had taken notice of the Vision on the man's left glove, how someone blessed by the power of freedom appears so caged.
Diluc should quit this. He must. There simply isn't any explanation as to why he continues to be enamored by—
The winds blow hard then, stealing Diluc's attention. He's long forgotten how to express his emotions outwardly, so his mild surprise is but a fleeting glimpse at his right, where green leaves shake from the trees and fall to the ground. Distantly, the scent of windwheel aster mingles with grapes, along with something foreign; something sharp and wild that leaves an impression on Diluc’s senses.
When he looks back at the stranger, he's gone as fast as he came. As fast as the wind.
Karmic debt. Diluc has heard the stories. He traveled all over Teyvat for years before his return to Mondstadt, so he might be more knowledgeable than the average person regarding different phenomena born in every city.
There was a tale about beings dispatched by Morax tasked to deal with demonic spirits in Liyue, but it was a story lost in time, forgotten by most when more amazing legends befitting of admiration and celebration exist. Even that particular story... Diluc wouldn't have had the privilege of hearing it had it not been for a wandering old lady in Qingce Village. It might be quite a reach, but is it possible that the man in the lake is suffering from karmic debt? Diluc might be more certain if there were any other living thing in the vicinity, but maybe that’s exactly why the man picks the winery again and again—for its emptiness.
"Master Diluc," Venti says, thumping the bar's counter with his small fist. The night is young, but the bard has already consumed six tall mugs of dandelion wine. An ordinary affair. "One more!"
Preoccupied, Diluc serves the archon another mug. He blames that (possible) adeptus hanging around his estate. Does he even know Diluc owns the area? Who does he think he is? Why is he in pain? What did he do to deserve a curse like that? Why does Diluc want to know so badly? He wasn’t this keen before, content on observing from afar. How come he’s suddenly thinking about that…that fighter? The man is one, Diluc can surmise as much. It’s evident in the defined muscles of his back, arms, and legs. His whole body, really, looks like it was carved and wrought by the Archons for the sole purpose of creating the perfect weapon.
"Is something on your mind?"
Diluc looks up at Venti, who is now sitting straight. His cheeks are flushed, though his eyes are lucid and curious. Diluc wishes Venti would just pass out and die. He'll even shoulder the funeral rite cost. "Unlike you, I actually think."
The Anemo Archon whistles low. "Someone pissed on your grape juice, Master Diluc?" He giggles as though it's the funniest thing in the world, much to Diluc's worsening headache. "If I may offer a word of advice—"
"You may not."
"—I'd say don't be so torn and follow what the wind tells you!" Venti raises his drink, whooping when a few drops slip onto the counter. "Cheers!"
Diluc glares at the bard in response, confused as to why, for the briefest second, he considered asking him about a certain Anemo Vision wielder.
When the next Sunday comes, Diluc is up before the moon even falls from the sky. It seems, despite his best efforts to distract himself the entire week, his body has grown accustomed to these secret weekly trips.
He is dressed in his nightwear, a thin white shirt that loosely hangs over his frame and a pair of comfortable dark brown pants made of cotton. He tells himself, as he slides into his boots, that this is all to satisfy the endless curiosity once and for all. After this, he will no longer encourage whatever madness that has taken hold of his self-control.
The manor is silent save for the cicadas buzzing in the dark among rows and rows of grapevines, as well as Diluc's muffled footsteps on pebbles littered all over the damp soil. His sneaking around for months is reminiscent of how he used to act with Kaeya in their childhood, always trailing behind his sworn brother in hopes not to be caught in their silly endeavors.
It's been so many years since Diluc had the urge to do something so immature, but he oddly feels reluctant to stop even when this is more serious than staying up late past bedtime. If his father were to bear witness to his foolhardy actions, what type of punishment would he impose?
His feet bring him to the familiar path leading to the lake, muscle memory guiding him amidst the absence of moonlight. He spots a crystalfly hovering on a vine, its luminous glow especially beautiful at this hour. The blue of its wings reminds Diluc of the ever-growing cold each day, a telltale sign of the coming of another season. Does that man fare well in this weather, Diluc wonders? Mondstadt is never arctic (thank Barbatos for that; if Diluc wants to freeze to death, he’d join Albedo in Dragonspine), but fireplaces are still necessary.
The lake comes into view. Diluc is more crestfallen than he's willing to admit upon seeing the place empty, which is absurd, because if that man isn't here, then it means he has no ails to suffer from. Right?
Then what is the cause of the hollow feeling in Diluc's chest?
"Mortal."
Diluc feels the word on his skin like a chilling kiss, as icy as the tip of a spear against the side of his neck.
"What do you think you're doing?" A firm weight squeezes Diluc's shoulder. Suddenly, he thinks that the Anemo user doesn't seem so small now. "Do you have a death wish?"
Diluc doesn't dare move, not when he didn't even think of bringing his claymore with him. Why now, of all times, did he decide to lower his guard? How stupid can he be to underestimate the threat the man can possess?
"I mean no harm," he says, his voice more stable than he feels inside. It's not panic, per se, but something akin to an odd sense of satisfaction of finally speaking with the man he only knew from 40 meters. "Will you really continue to point your weapon on an unarmed civilian?"
"Unarmed does not mean harmless." The spear disappears from Diluc's line of sight, though his body lurches forward with a push from the wind.
Steadying himself against a fragrant cedar tree, Diluc looks down at the man he's been watching for literal months, shocked at how short he is. Even shorter than the traveler or, Seven Archons, that kid Bennett. Still, the aura he exudes is much, much deadlier than anything Diluc has ever seen from a single individual.
For the first time, Diluc thinks he might actually not stand a chance if they were to fight head-on.
The man remains quiet, his piercing golden eyes holding Diluc captive. There is a promise of danger in those eyes, as though he won't ever hesitate to hurt Diluc. It's worlds different from how Diluc has been perceiving him—so wrong.
Diluc opens his mouth, an apology ready at the tip of his tongue, yet what comes out is, "What's your name?"
The man has no facial expressions to speak of, but Diluc thinks he might be holding his polearm tighter. Shit. "You waste my time," he says. "It's Xiao, if you must know."
Xiao. Mountain Demon. Finally, a name to address the person that's taken residence in Diluc's mind. "Xiao," Diluc echoes. The wind picks up as if responding to a summon, and Diluc has to quickly brush his hair out of his face for fear that Xiao will disappear before his eyes once again. He can't leave, not yet, when Diluc still has to...
Has to what?
"Do not distract me any further, mortal." Xiao points the polearm at Diluc once more. "What do you want from me?"
"My name is Diluc." He bows, as taught in etiquette, albeit not low enough since Xiao's weapon might poke him in the eye. "Diluc Ragnvindr."
"Diluc Ragnvindr, do not make me repeat myself." Diluc finds himself holding his breath as the air drops a degree colder. "What are you scheming? Did you think I wouldn't know you have been lurking?"
Lurking. At his own estate. Right.
"Sir Xiao," Diluc tries, "please let me explain."
Xiao doesn't move, which is the best response given the situation. "That manor," Diluc continues, crossing his arms over his chest to chase away the cold, "is mine. The vineyard is also mine. Everything around here...is mine." It pains him to phrase it this way as he's never had attachments with his wealth, but he doesn't know what to do with someone who doesn't have any idea what the name Ragnvindr means. "Therefore, you were the one who has been invading my property."
Xiao stares at him. Diluc doesn't count the seconds, but it feels too long. "Is that all?"
"Am I supposed to add more?" he asks, confused. "Is that not enough proof?"
"I asked why you've been watching me every week when you should be in your manor, doing what your kind is supposed to do, especially when I hardly inconvenience anyone." A small frown grazes Xiao's lips. Diluc looks away briefly. "I didn't ask what riches you own."
Diluc knows that. Xiao can reside in the middle of the lake for all he cares, so why was Diluc so...attracted to him?
No, not to Xiao. Diluc is just curious, just so fascinated by the sorrow that clings to the man. Even now, when Xiao stands prostrate instead of writhing on the ground, Diluc can see the poison in his soul.
Is this the reason? Does he feel a connection with Xiao?
"I'm sorry." Diluc straightens his posture, ignoring Xiao's defensive stance. "I'm unable to give an explanation, after all." Besides, how can he dream to word it politely? Hey, I didn’t leave you alone because I was amazed at how magnificently you handled your pain. Who does that?
"Why not? I thought you didn't mean any harm."
"And I stand by that statement." It's pointless. Diluc never meant to engage in a conversation with Xiao in the first place. They are destined to part here, never to interact again. "I apologize for...lurking. As a sign of my sincerity, I swear on my family's name to never seek you again." Wait. That doesn't seem adequate. "Feel free to roam in my estate, I promise not to have anyone bother you."
Normally, he wouldn't resort to such measures. But normally, Diluc doesn’t go around stalking people either.
"You are strange," Xiao muses flatly. His polearm disintegrates into thin air. Relief fills Diluc. "Why are you trusting a stranger who does not even live in Mondstadt? Have you no fear or are you just plain foolish?"
I'm not sure myself. "Maybe a bit of both," he settles. "May I ask a last question before we part for good?"
"I do not promise to answer."
"What are you?" Why do you suffer? Why do you go to Monstadt? So many things he wants to know, but only this question is what he can be privy to.
It's only when Xiao averts his gaze that Diluc realizes Xiao hasn't taken his eyes off him prior. "Adeptus." Another pause. "Yaksha."
"The last of them," Diluc murmurs. The mask at the back of Xiao's right hip is enough proof, but Diluc needed to hear it from him. "Thank you for answering my query." He bows, feeling vulnerable for his indecent clothing and unarmed person. This night has taken for the weirdest turn; he isn't sure how to recover easily. "I bid you farewell now, adeptus."
Diluc is about to walk past the yaksha when the latter's eyes snap back to him. "The things you have seen and heard..."
"You'd kill me if I tell anyone." Diluc allows a faint smile to spread. "I know that much." He's felt the threat of Xiao's karmic debt. No wonder he stays far from people. If Diluc hasn't learned to prepare himself against the curse's pressure, he is sure to lose composure before it.
With no words left to exchange, Diluc goes on his way, determined not to look back. He's embarrassed himself enough times, surely. At the same time, he can now move on from this stupid phase of his and return to his old ways.
"Diluc Ragnvindr." The air is still, so Xiao's soft voice carries.
"Yes?"
"If you stay true with allowing me in your estate..."
Diluc stares at his manor. One of the rooms lights up. How long have they been talking? "I never break my oath."
"If that is so, then I can repay your hospitality."
Diluc glances at the adeptus. "How?"
"Call my name." Xiao is already leaving, steps soundless and elegant. "If you need me, I shall be by your side."
He's gone before Diluc could respond. Before Diluc could make sense of the slight stutter of his heart.
Call my name.
"How arrogant."
If you need me—
Diluc flips another page of a book on interior design, eyes sweeping over the skillful illustrations.
—I shall be by your side.
"How ambitious, indeed," he comments again, then catches his slip. It's been three days since his formal meeting with Xiao, which is ample time for Diluc to take his mind off the adeptus. Usually, he faces little to no difficulty in accomplishing such a menial task, but he should learn to accept that Xiao has a way of being his subject of interest.
That, or perhaps Diluc has grown soft.
Diluc glances at the clock on the opposite wall of his office. He offered to take a shift at the tavern tonight for lack of better things to do. Mondstadt has been peaceful these days, so he doesn't have to patrol the area until very late. Since even the accounting part of the business can be handled by another employee, Diluc needs to request work since his people won’t make him lift a finger themselves.
It's good to be busy, though. The distraction is welcome.
I shall be by your side.
"What a bold adeptus," he mutters under his breath, pushing his chair back against the carpet harsher than he intends.
They are never to see each other again. Diluc will never need his help. How dare Xiao say things like that?
Diluc will forget about him, as what is proper. It was a mistake to repeatedly invade someone's privacy. If he were in Xiao's place, he'd have punished anyone who'd dare intrude when he's exposed for the world to take advantage of.
He leaves his office with a deep frown, which is not uncommon of him, so it bears no consequences aside from a few nervous looks from his housemaids and butlers.
In due time, he reaches Angel's Share. The tavern is packed no matter the day, which may be a bad impression of Mondstadt's citizens. Diluc has judged his people's customs long and hard, but he still protects them in the end. As long as they still visit the taverns for a drink or two, he can rest assured that all is well in the city.
Being around people is good, especially the drunk ones. They are noisy, hearty, and merry—just the right crowd to surround oneself with to drown out one's thoughts.
Always ready to jump on the next work, Diluc takes his place behind the counter with ease. For the next hours, he lets himself forget a certain someone with a quiet voice and golden eyes.
Being the wealthiest person in Mondstadt has its drawbacks. Diluc's needs are always met. The price is never a problem, not in a million years. His reputation is impeccable, too, at least by his standards (people certainly expect many things from him even though he owes them nothing). Really, what does he have to complain about when he can have anything with a price tag on it?
"You need to get a hobby," Kaeya says, moving a black bishop three steps diagonally. "Seriously, I'm not lying this time."
"And you need to do something worthwhile with that Cavalry Captain title of yours." Diluc slides his white queen, his voice dripping with boredom. "Checkmate. What are you doing here, Kaeya?"
"The sun is out in the beautiful azure sky and how can I not visit my lovely bro—" Diluc leans back on his seat, crossing his arms. "—I was running from Amber," Kaeya admits with a sigh.
Diluc flashes him a humorless smirk. "How chivalrous of you."
"I know, right?" Taking the cup of tea that's supposed to be Diluc's, Kaeya says, "You never look fun, but you seem troubled more than usual. What's your deal?"
Xiao. Why did I have to meet him when there's no work to pour myself into?
"You are an idiot if you think I'd confide in you, of all people. I'd rather talk to a rock."
"Yeah, that's what it feels like every time I talk to you." Kaeya rolls his eye. "A petty rock who doesn't even offer a man a drink."
Diluc blinks at the captain. "I don't see any other man around here."
"Haha," Kaeya deadpans. He downs the cup with a loud slurp, knowing just how his improper basic etiquette annoys Diluc. Who's the petty one now? "I'm just gonna go, then."
"As you should have done about ten minutes ago."
"Wow, the stick up your ass is sturdier than I thought." Kaeya snickers at his own words, patting Diluc's shoulder on his way out of the manor's sitting room. "Thanks for the tea."
Diluc's eye twitches, but he doesn't grace Kaeya with a response.
Apparently, no amount of Mora can make the people around him leave him alone.
Eventually, the adeptus fades from Diluc's memory. He can hardly remember how Xiao had exactly looked in the dark, especially four months after their conversation.
Sometimes, Diluc thinks he can picture that small stature curled up on the ground again, face contorted in great pain. The first several Sundays, he had to lock his windows so he wouldn't have the irrational thought of risking one last glimpse at the adeptus.
He doesn't know what's wrong with him. Xiao should have been forgettable, more fleeting than the pretty ladies who always try their luck with Diluc in Angel's Share. Xiao was rude, blunt, and menacing throughout their exchange. What is there to ponder about him over and over? He’s only known Xiao for hardly an hour, essentially, because he never stayed long on that lake—always just minutes; seconds that one time.
Diluc regards his ceiling with utmost interest. The sun is yet to rise, so the itch to get up and walk to the window is almost unbearable. He wishes he's the type to play around with others; maybe he wouldn't have such a trying time over a mysterious adeptus who doesn't spare Diluc a second of his care. Xiao seems logical, so Diluc believes he's the only one who's wasting his energy like this.
Pathetic. Hasn't he fought hard enough last night to stay asleep until noon?
If you need me...
No. That will never happen. Diluc has never needed anyone's help.
He needs help. Badly.
"Shit," he hisses through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to gag on the taste of his blood. His claymore drags heavily along the path of the woods leading—somewhere. Maybe he's near Dawn Winery or Springvale. Maybe he's not in Mondstadt anymore. He was running so fast...
His boot catches on a rock, making him stumble and fall on his face. The impact is inferior to his injuries: broken ribs, frostbites on open wounds on his arms and legs, and a third-degree burn at his chest area.
He was running around the city to clear out enemy camps as usual. He's never had to deal with anything severe before, at least not to an extent of being incapacitated. That is until he had stumbled upon a Fatui camp set up near Dragonspine. He was able to dispose of the Anemoboxer Vanguard and a Cryogunner Legionnaire stationed there, but they had called backup unbeknownst to him. A Cryo Cicin Mage, a Mirror Maiden, a Pyroslinger Bracer, and two Pyro Agents... Diluc is not weak. He's not. It was just an unfortunate match-up for a Pyro Vision holder without a team, it wasn’t because he was powerless.
Panting, he tries to brace himself up. He manages to move his left hand, but his right wrist collapses with a deciding crack. Fuck. He bites his lip to stifle a scream, his cheek hitting his broken mask on the ground.
Ah. Is this the end of the mighty Darknight Hero? Death by the hands of the very same people who caused his father's demise? The Seven have a sense of humor.
Call my name.
"X-Xiao." Every bone in his body hurt, burning from the inside due to an unseen force. Fire is his specialty, yet he wants to strip himself bare of his Vision for the second time in his life. "Xiao!"
The endless expanse of shadow-bathed hills and birch trees face him in mockery.
In the end, is he a fool who thinks too highly of people's words?
Xiao will not come. Adepti or not, Diluc shouldn't have been surprised.
The wind whistles, smelling of that same sharp and wild scent that lingered in the winery, and, with it, comes a familiar aura that looms over Diluc's dying form.
"Diluc."
The fallen hero blinks up at the expressionless adeptus. The relief that rushes to his head is almost strong enough to knock him unconscious. "You're...here."
Xiao crouches at his side. "What kind of need do you have?"
If he wouldn't burst an organ, Diluc would laugh. "The need to stay alive, adeptus."
"I see." There's a rustle, then Diluc is hauled up in Xiao's arms within a breath.
Diluc doesn't know what's more surprising—the volume of his choked scream or Xiao's strength.
Spots dance in Diluc's vision, the sky seemingly enthusiastic in its spin. "Fuck." Undignified language, but a necessary one just for this occasion. He'd been so dumb, and for what? To be carried around like some damsel-in-distress… Where is his pride as a warrior?
Xiao hums, his arms shifting around Diluc's shoulders and the back of his legs. "Do not move."
"I cannot even breathe without wanting to hurl."
"Then close your eyes." Diluc obliges, mainly because he lacks the strength to even stay awake. "This shall be quick."
Are you talking about my death or my survival?
Whatever the answer is, Diluc doesn't find out. Amidst his surrender to a dreamless sleep and the blood on his tongue, that foreign flowery scent grows stronger in Xiao's arms.
Diluc never dreams, not really. Everyone used to call him the ideal young man back when he joined the Knights of Favonius, but he lacked and still lacks creativity both in his waking and sleeping moments, a quality he’d appreciate not only for fighting purposes but also for the general direction of his life.
The last dream he had was of his father, how he died and how weak Diluc was to save him. If those are the only images his mind can conjure up, it's better not to dream at all.
Although he must say—he could've used something while he was dying on the ground. The Fatui is never easy on anyone, and Diluc has experienced twice now how cruel they are. Diluc scrambled for an opening at first, then eventually for an escape. It feels a lot like being a dog running with his tail between his legs, only then Diluc was crawling on the dirt with his bones and pride shattered into pieces.
"Where am I?" His throat hurts from disuse, voice dry and grating. With eyes squinted from the unbearably bright sunlight coming from the open windows, Diluc forces himself in a sitting position, ignoring the popping of his bones.
Xiao is seated on the windowsill, legs bent to fit himself in the width. His hair sways in the wind, and for a moment, the sunlight doesn't look so unbearable. "Wangshu Inn."
Diluc pulls the thin blanket over his body down to check himself. He is wearing a cream-colored dress shirt, the strings undone to reveal his pale chest. The skin over his left pectoral is scarred with a raw pink, but all of his wounds are fully healed. The torn fabric of his pants displays his unblemished thigh, with no proof of what happened last night. Whoever healed him is more skilled than the healers within Diluc’s reach.
"Wangshu Inn," he mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose as a wave of nausea washes over him. He's...alive, for now. Incredibly sore, but alive. "Why so far?"
Xiao turns his gaze back outside. "It's safe here."
Safe. Diluc wonders how he's supposed to have security in a foreign land when doesn't even feel safe in Mondstadt.
Still, Xiao did come when Diluc called. He didn't have to do that, much less save the man who did nothing but spy on him.
With a fair bit of effort, Diluc stands and pads across the wooden floor, each heavy footstep announced with a creak. The room is small with only one bed, a bedside drawer and lamp, and a cabinet beside the door. With the furniture alone, one can see the Liyue branding, if the green carpet with the city’s emblem isn’t enough of a hint.
Xiao doesn't look at him even as Diluc stops next to him. "I owe you my gratitude," Diluc says, peering at the vast area below. It’s too far from the ground to see the people, but the sky is clear with feathery clouds that flit in and out of the sun’s position. He's visited Wangshu Inn once during his trip. Nothing has changed over the years; it still feels...homely. "I cannot imagine how to repay an adeptus, but I shall try my best."
"I have no need for mortal offering," Xiao replies coolly. "Nor do I have use for thanks."
"But you saved me. Someone not from Liyue." Diluc stares at the adeptus, who stares back with those intense beautiful eyes. It’s his first time seeing Xiao without the veil of the night. He’s pretty, so much that Diluc wishes he’s the only one who sees it.
"I gave you my word. Even though you wield a Vision." Xiao climbs off the windowsill, and Diluc can't help but hold out a hand to assist him upon seeing that Xiao can't reach the height. Xiao lands effortlessly then looks at Diluc's hand.
Diluc is about to take it back when Xiao rests his palm over Diluc's.
Diluc frowns. "What are you doing?"
"Holding your hand." Xiao tilts his head to the side. "Isn't that why you—"
"Why would I ask you to hold my hand?" And why would you hold my hand? Neither of them pulls away. Diluc feels an uncomfortable warmth rising to his cheeks. Does he have a fever? "I'm not that shameless."
"But you are shameless enough to spy on the adepti."
At this, Diluc tucks his hand back to his side. He deliberately pays no heed to the tingling sensation on his skin. Why must Xiao feel so soothing? "Indeed, it was a lapse in my judgment."
"We are even." Xiao steps forward, back towards the window.
It’s selfish, but Diluc wants a little more time with him. "About what you said earlier," he starts, praying he won’t fumble with his words. "About my Vision."
Xiao’s eyes drift to the Vision on Diluc’s thigh. "Had I known, you wouldn’t have lived to tell the tale of the remaining yaksha."
"I’m not a blabbermouth," he quickly says. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that he left behind his Vision and claymore that one particular night. Without that error, their acquaintance would have ended in Diluc’s demise. He doesn’t understand Xiao’s disapproval of Vision wielders when he’s one himself, but Diluc won’t take his chances. "It’s not my story to tell."
The adeptus watches him, his gaze alone reminding Diluc that he’s not speaking to a human, that he can’t thoughtlessly become egoistic no matter how strong he thinks he is. Xiao will kill him; Diluc has been reading historical accounts on the yakshas.
Just when Diluc thinks Xiao will lunge for his throat any second now, the adeptus climbs up the windowsill and remains in a crouching position. "Do not get into more trouble, Diluc Ragnvindr."
The constant use of his full name brings a small, amused smile to his lips. "I see I cannot count on your rescue twice."
"Hm." One swift glance, seemingly insignificant, but Diluc is frozen to the floor. "If we are to see each other, I would prefer it without death hanging over you."
Again, Diluc is speechless as Xiao disappears for the third time with only a gust of wind.
Diluc stands there until someone knocks on this door to announce breakfast, and even then, Diluc is too deep in thought to respond.
Just what did Xiao mean by that?
Once he is well enough to travel, he returns to Dawn Winery with Liyue desserts at hand for his staff. Adeline is the first one to rush to him in a worried frenzy, demanding an explanation for Diluc's sudden disappearance for two days.
Diluc lets himself appreciate the concern his people show with a reserved smile to reassure them, contrary to his usual gentle stoicism. The incident has shaken him more than he is ready to admit to himself, mainly because it proves just how much he still needs to learn in the art of fighting. He was reckless, cocky, and lacking. He is no better than a Favonius Knight.
A dark cloud of doubt brews right over his head no matter how optimistic he wants to be. He's pragmatic at best, a pessimist at worst. If this line of thinking goes on, just where will he find himself after this?
Xiao must have judged him that night. He's an adeptus, quite literally out of this world. It wouldn't come as a surprise if he thought Diluc would be better off dead, yet he saved a frail human to honor his word. Diluc will apologize to him when they see each other again—if they see each other again.
The harsh slap of the rain against the glass windows of his study snaps him out of his depressive reverie. The skies have been gray and cloudy during his trip, much like the mood he's stuck in for days. The heavens seem to like tormenting him to no end; it was raining when his father passed, and it's also raining now, as Diluc feels something die inside him.
Diluc isn't expressive, not anymore, so these sentiments only cause him discomfort more than anything. He can act the part of a true nobleman without breaking a sweat, but accepting his vulnerabilities even in private is a different matter altogether. He doesn't know how to deal with it, not in a healthy way. He grieved by running away from this city. His vengeance was in the form of being the Darknight Hero. If fighting isn't enough to tire him out, he buries himself in running the family business.
Everything he's ever done until now... What is it for? For Mondstadt's people? For his father? For himself?
It feels too late to question it now when only a defeat that forced him to ask someone's help made him realize the ambiguity of his existence.
"I'm tired," he says to the empty room. Despite his Pyro Vision, everywhere feels too cold except the tavern. There, the warmth is impersonal and distant, but he can pretend he can be a part of it.
Tomorrow, he'll have to check the Fatui camp. Maybe he can swallow his pride and contact the traveler to lend their assistance. Adequately preparing is better than convincing himself that he'll win if he tries again. He's not Albedo, who triumphs in trial-and-error. Tonight, he must live with himself: his mistakes in the past, his shortcomings in the present, and his steps forward in the future.
Diluc is about to part from his desk and turn in for the night when a shadow passes behind the curtains covering the glass doors to the balcony, distorted and dark against the patter of the rain and the evening itself. There's no mistake, however—it's a person.
He's not in the mood to fight, nor is he fit to, but he still rises from his chair and brandishes his claymore leaning against a bookshelf. All of his items were in Wangshu Inn when he was recovering, thanks to Xiao. He must be incredibly strong to be able to carry both Diluc and his claymore.
The shadow stays as though torn between running and infiltrating the study. How absurd. Is this individual a complete amateur?
Quickly, Diluc brushes the curtain away and braces himself for an attack, only to halt at the sight of the last yaksha soaking wet from the rain.
Behind Xiao, a bolt of lightning flashes in the sky, followed by the loud rumble of thunder. Xiao doesn't seem to care for it, his eyes pinned on only Diluc.
Diluc opens the door. What else is he supposed to do? "Adeptus Xiao," he says, hoping he doesn't sound as breathless as he feels. "What brings you here?"
Xiao's gaze flits between Diluc's dim study illuminated by a single candle on the desk, Diluc himself, then the ground. "Just Xiao will suffice, Master Diluc."
"Just Diluc is fine," he says in return, smiling when Xiao merely blinks at him. What is wrong with them, engaging in small talk when a storm is spraying mist all over Diluc's newly shined oak floor? Adeline will kill him tomorrow. "It's late, Xiao. Do you—"
"My apologies, I did not mean to intrude," the adeptus cuts in. "I will be on my way in a—"
"I was about to invite you inside." Diluc steps out of the way, holding the door for the yaksha. "You look like you can use some warmth." Look who's talking.
"I don't feel cold," says Xiao, though he enters before he finishes the sentence, pausing when he's one step inside.
Diluc shuts the door and fetches his discarded coat from the rack at the corner of the room, draping the thick clothing over Xiao's firm shoulders. The fabric swallows his form, the hem brushing the floor. He looks cute, as cute as a conqueror of demons can be.
The adeptus doesn't speak, not until Diluc gestures to the couch. "I will only make a mess."
Diluc glances at the puddle where Xiao is standing. The wood might swell tomorrow if Diluc doesn't evaporate every drop of liquid before the night ends. "I think that's the least of your concerns," he blurts out. "Take a seat, please. You are a guest."
Xiao does as he's told, much to Diluc's surprise, sitting on the plush couch. Has the adeptus always been this pliant? "A guest is invited, not...what I did."
"You don't strike me as someone who cares about matters like that," Diluc points out as he settles beside the adeptus, careful to leave a polite distance between them. "I would offer you a drink and snack, but I'm afraid all the maids are asleep. Unless grape juice will satisfy your tastes? I made it myself."
Again, Xiao takes time before he responds. Diluc doesn't mind, prefers talking to someone who thinks before they speak. Xiao is small, Diluc realizes more and more, given the lengthy pauses that allow him to observe the other man. He sits there on the other end of this short couch, yet Diluc still towers by a head and a half.
"I do not appreciate human food," Xiao says, tugging the lapels of Diluc's coat over his lithe frame. "And I should be going soon."
Diluc rests his chin on his palm. Xiao has a way of making himself scarce; he’s here, yet he feels unreachable and fleeting. He is truly like the Vision he possesses, unpredictable and transitory.
"What are you still doing here?" Diluc asks in muted curiosity. If Xiao needs to go, Diluc will not stop him. He has no reason to.
Xiao looks at him, always unflinching. His eyes are beautiful from the slits of his pupils to the glitter of gold—godly in an unassuming way. Natural, Diluc decides. Xiao has a natural beauty exclusive only for the kind of man he is. "I don't know." The violet diamond on his forehead glints as he shifts on his seat. "Did you recover well?"
Diluc doesn't understand how Xiao's mind works. All of their meetings have been brisk and concise, never overbearing but never enough. Diluc is used to dealing with pompous nobles who speak in tongues and drunkards who babble and dawdle. But Xiao? Diluc can only go with the flow.
"I am well," he confirms. "The staff in Wangshu Inn treated me well. They told me you take residence there."
"I was away." Xiao's hand brushes his Vision. "Fighting."
Diluc nods, relaxing against the couch. It should be even colder because he had opened the balcony door, but it's not. It's...warm. "I understand."
Long minutes pass in silence. Prior to the incident, they haven't seen each other in months. It wouldn't be odd to have a degree of awkwardness in their interactions, but the atmosphere is pleasantly comfortable in spite of the absence of words.
Diluc, exhausted from his trip, almost falls asleep right then and there, until he remembers the date.
Sunday. It's past midnight now, so today should be...
"Xiao," he says, righting his posture, "your de—"
The adeptus holds out his left hand. He isn't looking, for once.
Diluc does the logical thing—he intertwines his fingers with Xiao's. He waits for the complaint, the rejection, but Xiao remains unresponsive.
He must be in pain. He's hiding it, is successful at doing so, and Diluc wouldn't know if he didn't spend weeks watching him from afar.
"Your hand is small," Diluc murmurs, returning to his lax position and shutting his eyes. He should give Xiao privacy. It's long overdue. "It's endearing."
"I am the furthest thing from endearing."
A drowsy chuckle escapes Diluc's lips. "I know." The crossing of their paths is far from ideal or fated. It makes no sense for them, a human and an adeptus, to be spending time together at all, especially when they’re from separate cities.
So why do they always find each other?
"Xiao."
"Diluc."
"I can't fly as fast as you do," Diluc says, eyes still closed. "If you call me, I won't hear it."
Silence, then, "I know. You are simply human."
"That's right." Humanity...such a feeble struggle. "So you have to come to me instead." He squeezes Xiao’s hand. "My door is always open for you."
"It shouldn't be. I'm dangerous."
"I didn't say you aren't." He's so sleepy, but Diluc forces himself to stare at Xiao. At this angle, his face is almost entirely in shadows, yet his eyes glow fervently. Alive, unlike Diluc's. "I'm just saying you are welcome to come and go."
They shouldn't spend any more time with each other. Xiao doesn't belong here in Mondstadt, and Diluc doesn't belong anywhere without the responsibility attached to his family name.
Xiao doesn’t smile. At least, Diluc has never seen him do so but, albeit transient, the corner of his lips twitch up. "I see," the adeptus says, voice so soft it almost mixes with the sound of the rain.
But why does it feel safe here, with the most dangerous being in Teyvat?