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It was a stupid injury, gotten in a stupid way. Kaeya knows he has only himself to blame.
It had been from one of the trellises, the large ones you could hide from the heat under - he’d been running, and tripped, and a stray nail had ripped into the side of his shin.
Now he sits on the grass, protected from the sun by the vines above him, blood squelching past his fingers as he valiantly tries to stem the bleeding, waiting to see if anyone had heard the noise he couldn’t help making.
No one calls his name, so he thinks he’s in the clear.
Because it hurts, and he doesn’t think he can pretend right now it doesn’t.
Kaeya peels back his fingers when he thinks he’s spent enough time gasping in the grass, and investigates the wound. It’s long, and not a clean cut. There’s too much blood to see how deep it is.
It’s a hassle, a mistake, a folly, that’s what it is, and none of those are things Kaeya can afford.
If it were Diluc with such a wound, Kaeya knows he would be bawling and running to Master Crepus for comfort and relief. Or maybe not running but - he’d be making some sort of scene. Kaeya has seen it before, and he’s heard what the maids say when it’s happened.
Young Master Diluc, a cry baby. Too needy for his age. A wuss. Fussing over an injury that shouldn’t be fussed over.
Kaeya is not Diluc.
Kaeya can not have the same whispers about him.
It was a long time ago, for him, but he remembers his father telling him what he had to do, remembers that he has to make himself fit in and be accepted and wanted.
“What if they don’t want me?” he’d asked.
“Then you learn to make them love you,” had been the response.
Kaeya is grown up, but he knows he is viewed as a child. And people do not learn to love children who are crybabies, who are too needy, who are wusses, who make fusses when they shouldn’t.
Kaeya can not be Diluc, who is loved despite his flaws because he is Master Crepus’ own.
He doesn’t know if he counts as anyone’s own anymore.
So he stays there even longer, even though it still hurts, to see if it will stop bleeding or hurting.
The former is a minor success, the latter an abysmal failure.
When his blood clots enough he thinks he can keep his hands off it for good, he wipes them on the grass and observes what evidence is left behind.
He’s been lucky that his trousers had been rolled up, so they are neither torn nor bloody, courtesy of a day hotter than expected. Diluc had decided to wear shorts today.
He would call that foresight. Kaeya would call it optimism.
But ultimately Kaeya has won, because now he can hide his new gash, if only he can make sure it doesn’t bleed through and he can pretend he’s not hurt.
If he ventures out, he could be spotted, so he ends up stuffing vine leaves and grass up his trouser leg. It’s extremely makeshift - he leaks blades of grass every time he moves, but it’s the best he can do.
Finally he emerges and stiffly walks back to the manor, suppressing his winces and hoping no one notices how bunched up one of his trouser legs is. He feels like a scarecrow.
“Kaeya!”
His grand plan is foiled by Diluc, who, unknown to Kaeya, had apparently been waiting in the foyer for him.
“I thought you were at practice,” Kaeya says.
Diluc insists he is going to be a knight soon. Kaeya has never gotten the chance to observe the knights in action, so he will believe it when he sees it. However, it means that Diluc’s sword fighting lessons are far more frequent than Kaeya’s, who does not have the same set of parental expectations to live up to.
But that’s fine. Kaeya does not expect to be loved more than Diluc. He doesn’t have to be. He doesn’t want to be, because that would mean coming between Diluc and Master Crepus.
Kaeya is strong. He can survive without his father. But he thinks Diluc is weak. Diluc could not survive without his father.
He has no intention of proving his theory right, and he hopes he will never be asked to. He wonders if his own father will think he is weak for thinking Master Crepus is too nice to die.
“I did, but it’s too hot so I got out early,” Diluc says gleefully, bare legs swinging. “I bet you wish you’d worn shorts today.”
“I don’t,” Kaeya doesn’t lie, though an hour ago it would have been. He should distract Diluc somehow. “I’ve been thinking maybe I should join the knights too.”
Kaeya has, but only because he’s practical enough to know he will need a job at some point, and he isn’t sure what will please both his father and Master Crepus the most.
Diluc’s face immediately brightens up, going from smug to ecstatic in the blink of an eye. “Really?”
Kaeya nods, and does his best to look bashful. “I thought we could be knights together.”
“Of course we could!” Diluc springs up from where he was sitting and leaps at Kaeya with such ferocity he is nearly bowled over, his bad leg buckling beneath him, but Diluc has such a grip on him he doesn’t fall. “We can be captains together!”
“You think?”
“Of course!” Diluc stops squeezing him to laugh merrily. Kaeya thinks he has accidentally made Diluc’s week. “Which captain do you want to be?”
Ultimately, Kaeya has picked too good a distraction, because now Diluc is unable to leave him alone, too busy grilling Kaeya on what kind of justice he wants to enact and how frequently they should spar together and how they’re going to be amazing knights.
Maybe he should tell Diluc he wants to spend some time alone, but he’s worried Diluc will suspect something’s wrong and realise that Kaeya is wincing far too many times for a normal, well behaved child. He excuses himself to the bathroom but Diluc waits outside, too impatient and too familiar already to give him any space.
At least that gives Kaeya a chance to dispose of the foliage he’s been using as a makeshift bandage that he somehow got away with. He makes sure that there’s nothing left on the floor, because good spies don’t leave evidence and good children don’t leave messes.
There’s no medical supplies in this bathroom - instead they’re kept in Master Crepus’ personal bathroom - which means Kaeya still can’t clean it properly, but that’s okay. He’s learning to be resourceful. The dried blood will act like a scab, maybe, and instead of sharp pain it’s something blunter, a throb deep in his leg that gets worse every time his muscles shift, but he can work with that.
His father will love him for being strong. Maybe Master Crepus would too, if Kaeya let him find out.
“You don’t seem very excited,” Diluc observes later.
Diluc can be brash and excitable, but Kaeya knows that he can be observant when he wants to be, and Kaeya is having to learn how to keep him distracted when he doesn’t want to be observed.
Adults love good children, but children are far harder to predict. Kaeya doesn’t know how to make Diluc love him. He’s lucky Diluc seems to like him anyway.
Maybe it is something he will not have to learn.
“It’s too hot to be excited.”
“I thought you said you weren’t hot.”
“And you said it was too hot to practise sword techniques,” Kaeya makes a face and goes for the easy blow, “even though I’m not sure you can afford to miss practice.”
“What does that mean - Kaeya!”
The laughter that Diluc causes with his exaggerated reaction is genuine, even if his arm got punched for it.
Unfortunately they are shooed out for fear of disturbing Master Crepus, and a thoroughly chastised Kaeya accepts he has no plan to get into that bathroom until the evening comes at least. Good children aren’t loud enough to disturb the adults, and good children aren’t caught snooping when they’ve been told to leave.
He thinks it’ll be okay though. This is just practice, for when he’ll be asked for more. He can do it.
Diluc agrees to sit down in the shade, which makes Kaeya sigh in relief when he can finally sit and stop aggravating his leg.
But Diluc is restless, and insists on trying to climb the tree Kaeya is sitting under.
“Are you okay?” Diluc finally calls down to him, and Kaeya has to tilt his head all the way back against the tree trunk to look at him.
“Yes,” Kaeya lies. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know.” Diluc’s eyebrows are drawn together pensively. “I thought you liked summer.”
“I do.”
He does like summer. He likes feeling the sun on his skin and the wind in his hair and grass beneath his feet. He likes the light and the long days and the warmth.
He’d liked today, until he’d ruined it.
“I’m just tired.”
Diluc scoffs. Kaeya worries he won’t accept that answer, even though they’ve both seen Master Crepus fall asleep after lunch when it’s warm weather before.
“Is that a bird nest?” he asks Diluc, who immediately forgets about this line of questioning to crane his head up.
Despite the constant pain, Kaeya is feeling pleased with himself by the time they are called in for dinner. He can excuse himself to go to bed early after dinner, which will work in his favour multiple ways - not only to hide his leg, but also because he thinks adults love children who put themselves to bed early.
Dinner is a success, in his eyes. Master Crepus doesn’t question it when Kaeya tells him he doesn't think it was hot enough for shorts unprompted, and nothing aggravates his leg, and Diluc ends up hogging most of the focus when he complains he doesn’t like part of the meal.
Kaeya can’t afford to be so fussy regardless of personal tastes, but Diluc has the luxury to say no and still be loved. Sometimes Kaeya wonders what it would be like to be born here, in this land of vineyards and dandelions, and not have to think about the weight of the lives of people on your back.
Sometimes Kaeya wonders if he’ll be able to ask his father if maybe they can leave Diluc and Master Crepus alone when the time comes.
Unfortunately, just as Kaeya is preparing himself to put on a show of how he is tired and has no choice but to go to bed, disaster strikes.
Well, Diluc strikes, literally, but it’s a genuine accident. Diluc didn’t mean to kick Kaeya who didn’t mean to make a noise of pain, sudden hurt bursting in his limb.
“It wasn’t that hard,” Diluc says instead of apologising. Kaeya can feel Master Crepus’ eyes on him and he has the need to keep the charade up. Good children don’t cause scenes, but the alternative is to admit he’s been hurt, and he thinks maybe he can make Diluc take the blame anyway.
“You would say that, wouldn’t you,” Kaeya narrows his eyes accusingly, “with your big feet.”
“I do not have big feet!”
“Diluc, apologise,” Master Crepus cuts in, even better than Kaeya at knowing when Diluc will make a scene. Kaeya holds his breath, sure for a second that he will be called out too, that Master Crepus has seen right through him, but Diluc mumbles a sorry he clearly doesn’t feel, and the moment passes.
Except Kaeya thinks Diluc might have opened his wound, and he’s now paranoid that blood is dripping, soaking through his clothes and onto the settee and everyone will see it and he’s gotten so far -
“I think I would like to go to bed.”
When he’s safely squirrelled himself into his bedroom, he can assess the damage and he’s right - it’s bleeding again.
There goes his plan of letting it heal in his sleep and finding a chance tomorrow to visit Master Crepus’ bathroom. Blood on his pyjamas and his sheets will alarm the adults here. He doubts they’ll believe him if he says he doesn’t know how it happened, and he’ll be caught in his own lie.
No one loves liars.
He waits until he hears everyone go to bed, and then he waits even longer, until he doesn’t know how long he’s been waiting, and then he as quietly as possible slips out of his room.
Soft rugs muffle his feet as he approaches the study, making sure it is empty before he then makes his way to Master Crepus’ bedroom.
The man is snoring gently, which is good because Kaeya can’t see anything and he has to feel his way over but he can manage that -
The bathroom is also pitch black. He will have to rummage and hope he gets the right things. Perhaps he will try to put the idea in someone’s head that they shouldn’t keep medical supplies in the least accessible room in the house some day.
A room over, the snoring stops, and Kaeya freezes, hoping it is just nothing.
The sound of a match flaring to life proves him wrong.
“Kaeya?”
Immediately he realises his mistake in not preparing a lie for this outcome. His mind is racing, trying to work out what he can say that will account for his strange behaviour without making this whole piece of theatre worse for himself.
He’s too slow.
“Kaeya, what are you doing?”
“I’m sorry,” Kaeya mutters, not turning to look at Master Crepus, seeing now in the candlelight he has the wrong bottle in his hand.
There is a deep sigh, the clink of the candleholder being set down, and Kaeya feels his shoulder being turned.
Then a sharp inhale. Kaeya can see now he has blood on his hands. Not a lot. Not enough that he could have felt it in the dark. But enough that it seems to scream out, punching a hole in the tiny boat of Kaeya’s grand plan to be wanted.
“Why are you bleeding?”
For just a second, Kaeya considers telling him that it isn’t his, but then he realises that probably is worse.
“I’m sorry,” he says again.
“Kaeya,” Master Crepus sounds urgent now, “are you hurt? Where are you bleeding?”
“My leg.”
Kaeya is too big to be properly carried, but he is lifted and deposited just as quickly so now he sits on something, and Master Crepus is kneeling in front of him, checking his leg. Kaeya had already rolled his pyjama leg up in preparation and to avoid the chance of it being stained, and Master Crepus inhales again when he sees the cut.
“What happened?”
Diluc did not inherit his father’s temperament - he has never heard Master Crepus raise his voice, or been prone to the same passions that seem to rule Diluc’s emotional state. Still, Kaeya can hear the tenseness in his voice, the firm indicator that he is not calm inside.
“I don’t know.”
Master Crepus gives him one hard look, and Kaeya shrinks back. This is the part where all of his lies are unravelled like a spool of thread, starting with this and ending with the fact Kaeya is a spy.
“I need more light - stay there.”
Kaeya obeys dutifully, and puts down the bottle of - maybe perfume? Some kind of cosmetic - down. Master Crepus will be nice enough to let him say goodbye to Diluc, at least, so that’s something, but his own father will be horribly disappointed in him.
Master Crepus returns with another candle, and finds the disinfectant much quicker than Kaeya did.
“Oh, archons,” he whispers, and then, “I'm sorry, this will hurt,” as he wets a cloth, and Kaeya nods.
“I’m sorry,” Master Crepus repeats when his muscles involuntarily twitch and tense at the hot sting.
“I’m not going to be angry at you. I just need to know how you got hurt.”
“Outside,” Kaeya finally admits in a small voice. “I tripped and one of the trellises had something sticking out.”
Despite Master Crepus’ promise, his grip on Kaeya’s leg tightens. “You can always come to someone if you’re injured. No one here is going to judge you.”
“I didn’t think it was that bad.”
“That’s why you decided to creep around the house in the middle of the night?”
Kaeya stays silent at that.
“Promise me, Kaeya. Please. That you’ll ask for help if you’re injured, especially if it’s outside.”
“Okay. I promise.”
He doesn’t know if it’s a lie yet or not.
But it seems to take a weight off Master Crepus, so he must be believable.
“Thank you. And tell me if you feel weird or it keeps hurting. Or if you have difficulty swallowing. Any time. I need to know.”
Kaeya observes Master Crepus for a second, still kneeling in front of him and looking up at him with something that reminds him of Diluc. “Okay.”
He has upset Master Crepus, he thinks, there’s something sorrowful about him as he wraps a bandage tightly around his shin, but Kaeya doesn’t know how to undo that. Even when Master Crepus finishes, sitting back to look Kaeya in the eye again, he’s still sad.
“I’m sorry,” Kaeya says yet again, “for being bad.”
His apology does not make it better. Master Crepus looks like he’s been slapped.
“Oh, Kaeya - come here,” Master Crepus rises, and nearly sets his nightshirt on fire as he wraps his arms around Kaeya’s torso, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “You’re not bad. We love you.” He feels a press on the top of his head.
Neither one of them moves. Kaeya has no idea what time it is anymore. He watches one of the candles flicker.
“You should get to bed,” Master Crepus says eventually, pulling away.
Kaeya nods, and slides off the toilet, mindful of how much weight he puts on his leg.
Master Crepus follows him, and Kaeya can put himself to bed just fine, but he daren’t say no, so he doesn’t speak, not even when he slips into his bed and Master Crepus tucks him in like he’s a child, candle on the nightstand.
They look at each other, and Kaeya wonders if Master Crepus used to do this to Diluc every night or if this is because he can’t be trusted.
“You know…” Master Crepus starts, brushing hair out of both Kaeya’s eye and eyepatch, “Diluc and I will still love you even if you’ve been bad. I daresay Diluc will love you more.”
“I haven’t been here very long.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
Kaeya feels slightly ridiculous, tucked up to his chin and unable to do anything other than stare, but he doesn’t know how to get out of this conversation.
“I promise you,” Master Crepus says sincerely, “that I will never hurt you, and I will never let anyone hurt you, and you can always come to me if you’re hurt. Always.”
Everyone is making promises they don’t know if they can keep tonight. Kaeya wonders who will break theirs first.
“Okay,” he says, and Master Crepus smiles at him before he leans down and kisses Kaeya’s forehead.
“Goodnight Kaeya. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Master Crepus.”
Master Crepus hesitates in the doorway, but then he is gone with the candle, and in the darkness, Kaeya closes his eye.
Good children are bad spies, and good spies are bad children, but he wants to be both.