Chapter Text
"It has been two days, Master Jean," Amber summarised to Jean, departing from her customary buoyant manners and sounding decidedly sombre instead.
Jean looked up from her work, refraining from sighing out loud. It was the morning of the third day; the number of days Kaeya had not shown up for work.
Jean had an inkling of what it was caused by. It was April the thirtieth - what should have been Diluc's birthday, marked by pomp and cheer. Around this time, people usually sent their well wishes to the young Ragnvindr master, hoping to impress him with their gifts of craftsmanship, gestures of romance and what not.
Not this year, nor the year before, Jean reflected with a degree of detachment. Time had flown by immeasurably quickly since Diluc's sudden departure. Life had gone on, certainly, but for one of her closest friends, Kaeya Alberich, life had lost all of its colour.
Jean always made sure she was in impeccable mental and physical shape to oversee the affairs of Mondstadt, but this was one of the days where taking time away from her schedule was pertinent.
The overnight changes in Kaeya's personality still stood out starkly in her mind. Jean was never one to dwell on misery for too long for Mondstadt's sake, but she still had a soft heart, as Lisa liked to remind her.
Two years ago, merely a day after Crepus's death, all she had been privy to was that Diluc had "personal, compelling reasons for leaving Mondstadt." Thus had Kaeya told her, his shoulders hunched and back turned towards her. He was sporting severe burns down his arms and torso, but had not sought immediate medical help.
After that he had broken down forcefully, inconsolable and distraught for half an hour, though the redness in his eyes when Jean had first arrived had told her he had been crying for far longer.
He despaired about "wronging Diluc", "deserving punishment", "not being a good brother", and a great deal of other things which Jean could not understand even today.
In the months following, Kaeya no longer exuded the same bonhomie and contentment in life as before. He became guarded, quiet and serious, as if intent on shrouding all facets of himself in darkness. Jean saw to it that his burn wounds healed, even if the scarring never subsided.
Yet the winds in Mondstadt were healing in nature, manifesting themselves in the form of numerous young Vision bearers who, to put it simply, took to Kaeya quickly.
As Jean swiftly ascended in seniority within the Knights, she saw, with barely-cladded relief, that Kaeya regained his momentum in life. He nurtured his love of alcohol in barely restrained ways, but it was better than seeing him not socialise with anyone.
Occasionally, he told Jean about Bennett, Fischl, and about Klee during their lunchtime conversations. He also told her with undoubted sincerity that he would always have the back of the Acting Grandmaster.
Jean had smiled, because having someone like Kaeya to watch one's back meant that one did not have to flail around in the darkness. He was incredibly adept at sourcing for information and gaining bearings about new situations.
More than a year after Diluc's departure, Kaeya began to appear at ease in public. He wielded a disarmingly charming exterior, not unsimilar to his jovial mannerisms as a teenager, but with an added layer of menace when dealing with enemies of Mondstadt.
Jean did not endorse frequent dealings with enemies, but she understood that, as close as they were, Kaeya was different from her in intrinsic ways. He was flamboyant, but one could never catch him talking about himself.
Even now, try as she might, Jean had yet to hear the entire story from him. It was his secret to keep, Jean supposed, but it made reaching out to him as a friend much harder.
"Worry not, Amber," Jean said, establishing eye contact with her reassuringly, "I will check in on him. May the wind be with you."
Amber took that as a sign of dismissal, and nodded before replying, "Thanks! May the wind be with you too, Master Jean!"
Once the door to her office closed, Jean began to fret for a slightly different reason. Was it alright for the Acting Grandmaster to check in on one of her subordinates? Was she showing favouritism? Had she breached some unspoken protocol of formality?
Jean rose to her feet, nearly slamming her fists against her desk.
She loved all of Mondstadt, and Kaeya was one of her best friends. Like hell would she leave him to suffer alone, or whatever it was he did nowadays.
The frequency of his so-called "episodes" had decreased over the years. What was one more?
Except that everytime Jean had to be there for Kaeya, it was like reminding herself of the pain of loss.
The loss of her friend, Diluc. The loss of Kaeya's childhood innocence. The reminder that people around her could depart at any time.
"Goodness, Jean, whatever are you hurrying out for?" inquired Lisa, passing her in the main hall.
"It's Kaeya. I'm just checking in on him," she answered sheepishly, "Could you redirect all correspondences this morning to my desk? I will handle them later."
Lisa sighed. "This is code for "I will handle them." See you later, Jean dear."
"Thank you so much," Jean said profusely, "See you later, Lisa."
She headed downtown towards the left side of the city. The steps that had been dark in the early morning were slowly illuminated by the rising sun. They glowed softly, imbuing Jean with an unexpected peace.
Birds tittered on the sidewalks, unseen but for the rustling of leaves among trees. Soldiers saluted when they saw her, and common folk said their hellos without hesitation.
Jean's cheeks were hurting slightly from smiling by the time a section of cramped apartment buildings came into view. The morning breeze beckoned to her, picking up in pace, as if reminding her to relax.
Jean let out the breath she had been holding.
She headed up to the door of the apartment building, a door whose brown paint was flaking, and whose hinges were rusty. She pushed it open, and was greeted by wafts of stale air from the stairway.
Up she climbed to the second floor. Kaeya's house was the third door down the corridor.
She knocked three times, dusting her knuckles against the same brown wood of the door.
There was no answer, so Jean knocked again.
"Kaeya? It's me. If you're awake, please let me in," she said firmly but gently.
No answer. Jean knocked louder, refusing to relent.
"Please, Kaeya. I did not come here just to give up so easily," she said with a lilt in her tone.
She heard the sound of feet dragging on the floor. A chair creaked, followed by some more rustling, and the door slid open.
"Jean, you didn't have to come," Kaeya said through the crack in the door. The first thing Jean noticed was Kaeya's unmoving expression that contrasted sharply with his low, despondent tone.
"I was concerned about you," explained Jean needlessly.
"I understand. But I don't want you to see me like this." Kaeya sounded a mix between lethargic and exhausted.
"What's there to see?" returned Jean softly, "I just want to make sure you're alright."
"Jean, you can't -" Kaeya pressed a curled first against his eye, his mouth creasing slightly, "- I didn't mean for anyone to visit me."
"Stop pushing me away. I want to help you," she insisted as sincerely as she could.
Kaeya breathed rather raggedly. "I don't want to be seen. I…I just hate myself now, okay?"
"All the more reason for me to make sure you've eaten. Or bathed, or slept." Jean held Kaeya's squirming eye contact. His eye patch was lopsided and wet, and his normally well-groomed hair fell in messy waves over his shoulder.
"I'm a burden, and you're not obligated to think otherwise. I just need… time. Alone," Kaeya finished with a sigh.
Jean gave an exasperated little laugh. "That's implying that everyone's default opinion of you is a burden, which is certainly not true."
The edges of Kaeya's lips turned up into the smallest smile.
"Well, if you insist. I can't stop the Acting Grandmaster herself. You'll have to contend with a lot, though." He stepped aside slowly, as if hampered by tiredness, to let Jean in.
"You have a choice in this. I promise I won't hurt or judge you, but if you really need me to go, I will," said Jean seriously.
Kaeya raised an eyebrow. "Employing reverse psychology tactics, are you? Sorry, slip of the tongue."
Jean smiled wryly, stepping into his apartment before either of them could change their minds. She bent down to place her shoes neatly by the door before taking a good look at Kaeya.
Kaeya's slenderness startled her a little. He had discarded his outer, exotic cloak, but still wore his white inner shirt and black riding pants from days ago. His cheeks had become more gaunt, his waist impossibly small, and dark bags clung under his eyes.
"Kaeya, have you starved yourself for two days?" she asked, trying to keep her tone measured.
Kaeya turned his head to the side guilty. "Do liquid meals count?"
"They don't," said Jean automatically.
Kaeya kept silent, relocating to the couch and dawdling upon it. Jean let out another sigh about the stale air in his apartment.
"I’ll get you something to eat," she decided.
Kaeya made a little face, closing his one eye and leaning back against the couch. He looked utterly drained.
"No need," he said tiredly.
"And dear Kaeya, no offence, but when was the last time you er…took a bath?"
He ran a hand over his forehead, clawing at his scalp slightly.
"Two days. Sorry."
"Are you able to take a bath?" emphasised Jean.
"I… don't know," muttered Kaeya, drifting off.
Jean kneeled down in concern. “Are you drunk?”
Kaeya passed out briefly before blinking blearily at her. Pity gnawed at Jean's heart. Here was her friend, one of the most outstanding Knights who had proven himself in expertise, looking depressed and helpless to combat whatever it was plaguing him.
"Perhaps. I'm more tired, though." He yawned, and Jean got up, pulling on his arm and swinging it over her shoulder.
"I'm getting you into the bath." She stood up slowly, supporting Kaeya's light and sweaty frame.
"Jean, for goodness sake, this isn't decent," began Kaeya, but Jean snapped as gently as she could, "It's decent because I'd rather see you clean than drowning in filth."
Kaeya huffed out what seemed like a chuckle. "Even if you were to see me naked, there wouldn't be much to see."
Jean snorted loudly. "You are incorrigible. Don't talk to me about decency."
They staggered into the bathroom, where Jean made sure he could stand on his own before stepping outside.
"Get the bath going. And if you need help, call me. No buts," Jean demanded.
She stood outside for a while, observing the yellowed paint on the walls, the dim lighting in the living room, the drawn curtains and the faded furniture.
She heard the water running, before it stopped, and Kaeya let out a sigh.
"What is it?" she called.
"My hair," Kaeya said rather mournfully, and Jean kept her confusion at bay in favour of knocking against the bathroom door.
"May I step inside?"
"Only if you don't mind - you know what? Do as you wish. I've disappointed everyone around me enough," he replied bitterly.
"Kaeya, the bathtub isn't the best place to be harsh on yourself. You can tell me later when we're on the couch, talking," said Jean empathically, spotting Kaeya in the tub with his back turned to her.
"I'm sorry. My hair's all tangled. Can you help me?" he asked feebly, to which Jean voiced her acceptance generously.
Kaeya's hair was long and on the wavy side. The ends were meshed together and he had wetted his hair fully. Jean could see the abnormal strand of silver hair peeking amidst the weighed down curtain of dark blue.
"Have you shampooed?" she asked.
Kaeya shook his head, reaching for a bottle on the edge of the bathtub.
He lathered his hair with it, trying to unclump the ends, and making no attempt to fill in the somewhat awkward silence on Jean's part.
"Well, if you don't need my help after all, I can leave," proposed Jean unsurely.
"No need… I appreciate the company. Unless you want to," said Kaeya with a tinge of affection.
He tried to comb the ends of his hair through his fingers, but it was proving to be a task.
"One might think you're trying to seduce me," Jean joked, rolling her eyes.
"If you must know," said Kaeya generously, "I like both men and women. There are many fish in the sea."
"Great," said Jean, "I think I might prefer women on all fronts… though I might just be able to fall in love with a man."
"Still influenced by your favourite romance novels?" teased Kaeya.
"Who knows?" replied Jean, whacking away Kaeya's hands to untangle his hair with greater efficiency. "There are so many things Mother never prepared me for. I grew up with a stunted view on romance and relationships. It makes me wonder who and what I'm looking for."
"The time will come. I know someone will sweep you off your feet. Until then, it's just you and your hand," said Kaeya offhandedly.
Jean made a disgusted noise, accidentally tugging on his foamy hair. "Please, no more words of wisdom."
Kaeya laughed. "Apologies."
Jean let the silence resume this time, and Kaeya must have been discomfited by it, for he broke it a while later.
"I apologise for my… warped sense of humour. Though it does represent the current state of things."
"Kaeya, please shut up."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
Jean sighed. "Please stop apologising. Your humour is fine. Maybe I am an irritating prude."
"No, you're not. You're decent and easy on others," supplied Kaeya.
It had always struck Jean how unfailingly loyal Kaeya was to those he trusted. It had to be the result of being abandoned twice - Kaeya was unconsciously desperate for close relationships to ground him.
"How hungry are you?" she settled on asking.
"So hungry I could eat an entire Honey Sticky Roast by myself."
"Are you able to finish bathing by yourself?"
“I'd prefer if you didn't leave me alone,” Kaeya said dejectedly. For him to admit he was lonely and needed company… that was a first.
“I’m staying,” comforted Jean, “I won’t leave your side.”
Kaeya let loose a sigh of relief that sounded partly choked.
“I’m sorry for being weak. I just feel as if everything is falling apart,” he divulged, trying and failing to keep himself from sounding miserable.
“Days will get better. You are not alone,” Jean emphasised, as she had many times before.
Kaeya sniffed several times, back still turned towards her. “You’re right. I know things will get better. I just don’t know…how.”
“You shouldn’t have to force yourself. You should feel happy when you get better. And you should let it out when you’re feeling sad,” continued Jean, patting him on the shoulder.
Kaeya looked over the same shoulder, meeting Jean’s eyes. When he spoke, it was lighter in tone and felt younger. “I feel so fragile, even though I’m not supposed to be.”
Jean felt like she should stop giving advice, and listened instead, nodding vigorously.
“I feel so broken even though there’s no one to pick up the pieces, and the source of my closure is gone.”
Diluc. He was referring to Diluc’s palpable absence. Jean felt a pang in her own chest.
“I feel so scared, as if he might vanish forever, and I might never be able to be honest with him again,” Kaeya whispered, voice constrained by emotion. “Most of all, I hate how helpless I’ve become without him around.”
“He did hurt you,” reminded Jean softly, “That’s why you feel helpless and scared. It’s not your fault.”
Kaeya kept silent for a moment before stating, “But that doesn’t give me the allowance or leeway to mope forever.”
“Kaeya,” said Jean, anchoring her voice in calmness, “How do you begin to heal if you don’t accept that you’ve been hurt?”
“Because he was my brother. And yes, he has hurt me, but how do I stop feeling so conflicted all the fucking time?” Kaeya hissed. His arm splashed against the bath water, making ripples.
Jean heard him mutter a few other curses under his breath as he tried his best to calm down.
“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this,” said Kaeya quietly after a while.
“You’re justified in feeling angry,” consoled Jean, though she was feeling slightly at a loss for words.
"But I deserve it. I made him angry on the day I was not supposed to. It's as simple as that, ironically," said Kaeya, distracting himself from an onslaught of painful memories.
"Whatever it is, nothing warrants being injured so severely, and by someone who called you family for years," said Jean emphatically, "I refuse to let you think you deserve it, because you don't."
"You're so sweet," laughed Kaeya, "And yet nothing changes the past. And nothing changes me. I'm no less plagued by it."
Jean said nothing. The sadness emanating off Kaeya was palpable. It was always difficult to see him so down.
"I'll give you space to dress up. We can talk on the couch after I get you some food," proposed Jean, and Kaeya nodded, thanking her sincerely.
When Jean got back, Kaeya had gotten dressed and the air around him was thankfully fresh. His shirt was halfway unbuttoned by habit, and his hair had been bundled into a high bun. With the towel around his shoulders and the ceaseless staring at his own lap, Kaeya looked as though he was in a mild trance.
"Kaeya? I'm back."
The light returned to Kaeya's eye. "Oh? What did you get?"
"A Honey Sticky Roast for you, silly," replied Jean, sitting beside him.
Kaeya helped to set the table, and Jean dug into her Fisherman's toast first. Just when she thought Kaeya was slipping into wonderland again, he started on his meal as well.
The meal was silent, but both of them felt peaceful and replete for once. Kaeya ate slowly, but he finished everything at least. Jean stopped trying to feel uneasy about the slight outline of his ribs.
Immediately afterwards, he curled up against the couch, knees brought against his chest. His eye was glazed over with fatigue, and he began to emit soft snores within a minute of closing it.
Jean let him sleep, aware of how exhausted he was that his usual chattiness was extinguished for the time being. Her eyelids dropped as well, and she fell fast asleep against her better judgement.
"Jean?" Kaeya's voice was faraway, and he sounded amused.
"What time is it?" Jean mumbled. Her head felt suspiciously clearer and lighter.
"I think we slept for three hours."
"I- what, what?!" Jean scrambled upright in alarm.
Kaeya was grinning, his cheeks looking too flushed to be caused by exuberance. Jean pressed a hand to his forehead and realised he was running a fever.
"Congratulations, you have a fever."
Kaeya blinked, still smiling. "Don't I?"
"You're as high as a bird," commented Jean, adjusting her uniform and swiping the trail of saliva down the side of her cheek. She had slept very soundly.
"At least this gives me a reason for my prolonged absence," muttered Jean, sending a wave of healing breeze through Kaeya. Kaeya's bun had gotten undone, and unravelled in the momentary breeze.
He seemed to regain part of his senses, and beseeched her to go.
"You can't spend the whole day here - you've got things to do. I shall be fine with merely a fever," he said, managing to sound gracious despite his pale complexion.
Jean ignored him, filling a copper basin with water at the kitchen tap. She fetched a cloth and a large glass of water as well. Just when work showed no signs of slowing down, Kaeya had taken ill. She hoped the new alchemist recommended by Alice could fill in some shoes as effectively as she hoped.
"This is what you get for neglecting your health. Lie back down, sleeping beauty."
"I'm sorry," said Kaeya, his lone eye shining with tears.
"Are you alright?" Jean asked concernedly. Kaeya had lain on his back, but he sounded different from before.
"I'm sorry, 'Luc. I've never been so sorry. I wished I hadn't now. If only I could undo time," he wept freely, but his gaze was imprisoned in bygone memories that haunted him.
Jean's eyes filled with tears unstoppably.
"Kaeya, he isn't here. It's me," she said, clutching onto his arm.
"Jean…?" Kaeya's eye shone with recognition. Then his composure crumbled, and he pressed an arm above his eyes.
"I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm alright now," he said, chest heaving rapidly.
"It's alright. Don't apologise," said Jean, puffing out a breath to calm her nerves. She recalled the first time this had happened, when he had gotten a fever from a mild infection on his burns. The second time had been when Kaeya was ill from drinking, and had passed out for a day without forewarning.
His devastation of the past remained. So overwrought was he that this was not the first time he had dissociated from the present, imagining Diluc was there.
And Jean was to do nothing, remaining in the dark about the nature of their quarrel. It wasn't fair, and it was akin to fighting an uphill battle for her. But she respected Kaeya's privacy, even if it meant watching him fumble alone.
"Goodness, is it 6 o'clock already? How about a change in activity, Kaeya?" Jean suggested.
“Like what? Don’t you have to get back to work?”
“Lisa’s covering for me today,” explained Jean, feeling guilty about taking advantage of the librarian’s selflessness.
“Bless her. I shall have to repay her,” muttered Kaeya absentmindedly.
“And what about me?” asked Jean playfully, “I’ve spent the whole day worrying about you.”
“We can go to your favourite place,” said Kaeya, removing his arm and looking at her meaningfully, “It calms me down, despite….”
“Despite what?”
“Nevermind," said Kaeya, sporting a small smile.
"But you have a fever. You're not going anywhere," said Jean adamantly.
"I… need to get out. It's been two days and I'd appreciate a change of environment."
Jean looked down at him. His skin was dry and hot,where it had been pale and drenched before the bath. And yet, Jean was not against the idea. She knew how calming nature was to the mind.
"I can get us dinner, and then we can go to Windrise - but only if you feel well enough."
"Are you sure this isn't too much effort for you? All I want is for you to catch a break as well -" Kaeya began.
"I'm sure. It’s nearly the end of the day, besides," said Jean, sounding earnest. "But first, let me get fever medicine from Barbara."
"No need, I have some of my own," answered Kaeya.
"Where?"
"In the lower kitchen cabinet, beside those tins of spices and confection."
Jean retrieved them, dawdling as she checked the due date of those foods. She knew they had long shelf lives - she was just curious.
"Thank you," said Kaeya when she returned, getting up gingerly to fetch himself a glass of water and a spoon.
"A concoction of mint, qingxin and purified cryo slime condensate. Is this qingxin from Liyue?" Jean read the label of the medicine out loud.
Kaeya nodded. "They're cooling ingredients. They’re said to lower the body’s internal temperature.”
Jean hummed. “Interesting.”
"I don't know what I'd do without you," admitted Kaeya, eyebrows pinched together, "It worries me how far I've fallen, but you've restored my will to leave the house."
Jean stared at him kindly. "I'm glad to hear that."
Kaeya gulped down his medicine, followed by nursing a huge glass of water.
“You seem familiar with this routine,” said Jean, throwing herself onto the end of the couch.
“I think we all fall ill more often than we like to account for. Even if there is no fever, there’s still a need to care for oneself as is.”
“Sounds to me like you’ve been overworking,” admonished Jean, though she knew how hypocritical she sounded. Kaeya picked up on it, cracking a smile instead of verbalising it.
He insisted on accompanying her to the Good Hunter, vehemently protesting that Jean shouldn’t be bringing his meals to him more than once that day. The two friends settled down at a table, ordering Tea-break Pancake and Flaming Red Bolognese.
By some strange blessing, no one came to disturb them, as was usually the case whenever Jean visited town. And if Kaeya was slightly brooding and unfit for conversation, Jean did not comment nor pester him about it.
Sometimes she followed his gaze, unfocused but heavy, lingering upon his plate, grasping slightly beyond Jean’s shoulder, and at times retreating into his tired mind.
“Please tell me you feel better,” she beseeched softly, feeling slightly sorrowful.
“Of course, and it’s all thanks to you, Jean.”
Kaeya gave her a small but winsome smile, and Jean recollected the happiness behind it. She wondered that if Diluc hadn’t left, Kaeya would be five times more lively than today.
Years ago, it had been difficult to imagine Kaeya as anything other than cheerful and visionary. It was like viewing the differences between a bright teenager bursting with inertia and an adult with an unspoken weight upon his shoulders. Harsh reality had dawned, and now he tread with a kind of heaviness and measuredness that never left him.
“Just to confirm, I’m going to Darupa Gorge tomorrow?” Kaeya asked her suddenly.
Jean shook out of her musings and nodded. “It will just be a regular patrol.”
“Alright,” he said, grinning.
“You mustn't scare your patrol members. A couple of them will be recruits since they need greater field experience,” Jean told him matter-of-factly.
Kaeya gave a slight, lopsided smile. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt or scare them. I care for every single one of them.”
“So you say,” said Jean, believing him, “But sometimes you change strategies so quickly that your patrol members get confused. You need to sustain a clearer line of command, even if it slows you down.”
“They don’t slow me down,” said Kaeya, scrunching his nose slightly, “I just…forget sometimes. I’ll try.”
“Of course. Thank you,” replied Jean. From an external point of view, his reluctance and sometimes scepticism towards authority placed him under a rather dubious light - despite being a patrol leader himself.
Jean had learnt Kaeya did not mean to give off this impression, but neither was he in the habit of regulating himself to work seamlessly in a team. He was a strategist who cared about the results, and thought it unnecessary to justify his motives to others as long as he felt he was doing the right thing.
Jean was a perfectionist as well, but she happened to view other’s harmonised feelings and perceptions as integral to the Knight’s functioning.
"Are we ready to go?" Kaeya asked.
"Yes." Jean stood up, squaring her shoulders and stretching them slightly as a cool breeze greeted them.
A visit to Windrise could mean anywhere between experiencing the idyllic trail, roaming near pond banks or trekking through the dry, soft grass. Kaeya knew he would rather keep himself on his feet if not for his fever, and the fact that he wanted Jean to relax.
Jean's favourite spot to rejuvenate herself was the Symbol of Mondtadt's hero, a massive oak tree said to have grown where Vennessa ascended to Celestia.
"We've come here without even a picnic mat to spare between us. I hope we'll be warm enough," commented Jean.
"Isn't that the plan? To cool off our troubles?" said Kaeya, sprawling himself upon the grass beside a tangle of tree roots.
“Whatever you say. As a Cryo user, you couldn’t have put it better,” quipped Jean, seating herself upon the soft grass.
“I’m glad I have a way with words to you,” said Kaeya, seemingly out-of-the-blue. A Windwheel Aster tickled the crown of his head.
Jean knew it was him expressing his feelings of otherness. They sometimes leaked out without either of them really thinking too much about it. Now, she realised how subtly lonely he sounded.
“There I go again, blurting out whatever comes to mind. Must be the fever.”
“Kaeya,” Jean turned to face him. “I don’t mind whatever you say. Mondstadt will always be your home. Isn’t it time you felt the same?”
“Why do you accept me despite everything?” Kaeya asked rather lightheartedly considering the topic, gaze focusing upon the scenery before them.
“Despite your confounding fears? Because I’ve never known you as anything other than a good friend. Even though you’ve…changed. But I see nothing wrong with that.”
Kaeya hummed in reply. “I will strive to keep the changes in your favour.”
Jean did not know of a suitable reply, and she did not want Kaeya beholden to this promise.
“Just rest,” she told him. She offered her arm, knowing Kaeya was too much of a gentleman to initiate any sort of physical contact. He had also become very sensitive about physical proximity and the presence of open flames.
During the first month after healing from his injuries, Kaeya had once frozen a whole lake after a hilichurl threw a fire grenade at him. In a separate patrol where Jean had joined in, she had heard Kaeya screaming bloody murder after being placed in a chokehold by a particularly large treasure hoarder. A rookie and even knights who were non-Vision wielders might have reacted this way, but Kaeya was usually one of the most composed fighters she had ever seen. At times, symptoms of his trauma could be spotted from a mile away, and those moments had been one of them.
Presently, Kaeya rested his back against the trunk of the tree, snuggling up against Jean.
“We are the best friends that ever were,” recited Kaeya, smirking slightly when he saw Jean’s bemused expression, “It’s from a book Klee is currently reading.”
"What's it about? Is it about those pirates and cannonballs?" she asked, frowning.
"You're missing the point. It is about two best friends. Good stories always have a pair of best friends," said Kaeya so solemnly that Jean nearly forgot he was being humorously sarcastic.
She chuckled. “I’m grateful to have your friendship, Kaeya. I may not express it much, but I am. Today has reminded me of it.”
“I don’t know what Barbatos would do without you to make the people of Mondstadt believe that angels exist,” said Kaeya, half-asleep.
Jean focused on a particularly bright star in the sky, briefly entranced by its glow. It was still evening, but when night fell, she knew the star would be blinding to her eyes. Noticing that Kaeya had fallen asleep, she sent another wave of healing breeze through him. It was so peaceful that the very air seemed to be in a trance. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of the stream trickling; she could spot a dendro slime lazing around, a smattering of crystal flies flying lowly.
“I’d never do this if I were sick myself,” Jean said aloud. Perhaps insisting that they made the trip to Windrise was Kaeya’s way of saying ‘thank you’. And she appreciated it. Now that they were out here, she couldn’t care less about not waking up in her bed. The restrictions of her daily life seemed to matter less.
A bone-deep exhaustion settled within her. However, it wasn’t the kind that threatened to erode her spirit away, so she fell asleep without a worry for the first time in a long while.