Chapter Text
ajax gets a job running a small bookstore at night to pay off his student debt. the store’s always filled to the brim with second hand, pre-loved books that line the shelves and sit in stacks on the mahogany floor. always full of warm yellow light. ajax sits in the red velvet chair at the corner of the bookstore most nights, finishing assignments or watching anime.
today, he’s finally catching up on the attack on titan series when the bell dings.
the man closes the door gently behind him, turning around to face ajax. his gold eyes widen the second they lay upon him, body jerking and freezing in place. if ajax didn’t know any better, he might’ve thought the man had just set his eyes on a dead person.
“you-” he trails off, hand frozen in position, pointing right at ajax,
ajax looks up at the unfamiliar man and puts on his best salesperson smile, and asks, “can i help you?”
the man’s hand trembles. “chi- childe?”
ajax frowns, confused. “who the hell are you to call me a child? do i even know you?”
this seems to break the man out of whatever trance he was in. his eyes droop and he shakes his head. “no, no you do not.” his uncannily gold eyes flash with melancholy for a split second.
silence permeates the bookstore.
“please help yourself to our selection of books!” ajax says a bit too loudly, smile plastic on his face.
the man shakes his head. “i will get going. thank you for your time.” he turns to leave, leg halfway out the door, when he turns to ask,
“what beverage do you enjoy?”
ajax stares. “i guess a hazelnut mocha.”
the man’s eyes widen in surprise, but he shakes it off quickly. “i see.”
he turns to leave, bell tinkling behind him.
- 𖧷 -
the man comes back the next day, a steaming cup of hazelnut mocha in his hands, at 9:37pm.
ajax just stares. the man holds the cup out to him.
“i did not poison it.” the man says, as if it makes it any more reassuring. nevertheless, ajax takes it.
“what is your name?” the man puts his hands in his coat pockets, staring down at ajax just a metre away. he contemplates for a moment, before realising he has nothing to lose. “ajax. you?”
“i see.” the man doesn’t answer, staring intently at the corner of the carpet. “it would seem it is the same.” he adds on absentmindedly.
“same as what?”
“it is none of your concern.”
ajax frowns, but he chooses to ignore it. “so what’s your name?”
when the man doesn’t answer, ajax scoffs. “seriously? what, are you famous or something?”
a pause. “i believe i would be perceived as famous by some people, though not many.”
that explains the face mask. an actor, probably. ajax observes, a model? the man is tall, legs slender under his broad coat. his eyes flash a beautiful, muted gold. long hair in a thin ponytail with gold tips. in other words, this man is gorgeous.
“okay, fine. don’t tell me.” ajax slumps back in his chair.
“do you own this store?” a quick change of topic, ajax catches. the man takes a good look around. “it is quite messy.”
ajax huffs and looks away. “i don’t. mr lin’s really old, and the shop’s been around a while. it’s just a cozy vibe, y’know?” mr lin told him to arrange the new books properly, but he hasn’t for a week. not that the man needs to know that.
he really should, though. he’d rather die than have mr lin find him incompetent.
the man looks back at him after his survey of the shop, and oh shit, his eyes are gold. they’re muted in the warm light of the shop, but they’re gold nonetheless. it doesn’t look like contacts either, was he just born with uncannily gold eyes? and why-
it feels like his chest is being gripped by invisible, spiked tendrils that prick him with every move. ajax averts his eyes in panic, and the pain fades almost immediately. what the fuck?
“i imagine that i do know.” the man stands. “it is quite late. i should get going.”
“thanks for the drink.” ajax says, but the man’s already out the door.
he hopes this is just some weird dream of some weird customer, but the fleeting pain is telling him otherwise. the man leaves ajax with more questions than before he came.
- 𖧷 -
the man comes back the next day too, hazelnut mocha in hand, at 9:45pm.
“it is decaffienated, so you will not have trouble sleeping tonight.”
ajax hesitates, but he accepts the drink. “would you like a seat? i’m assuming you’re not really here to buy a book.” without waiting for his response, ajax puts his history assignment aside and rises from his red velvet chair to get a stool from the back. he finds himself slightly shorter than the man, by a centimeter or so. he tries not to think about it.
“here you go.” ajax plops the stool down beside the red velvet chair. the man thanks ajax and sits on the stool, back incredibly straight. they sit in silence for a while.
“are you hitting on me?”
the man startles. “no, i am not. what gave you that impression?” ajax shrugs.
“you bought me my favourite drink two days in a row.”
“it would take gifts much more extravagant for me to be considered as courting you, ajax.” the man responds, amused.
ajax widens his eyes at that. well, at least it means the man isn’t “courting” him. he continues his assignment.
“what are you doing now?” the man asks, leaning over to see ajax’s computer screen on his lap.
“my history assignment. it’s due tomorrow.”
“interesting. what time period would this be?”
“about two thousand years ago.” ajax stops typing. “the first economic crisis of liyue.”
“when the golden house failed to produce mora for fourteen days?”
ajax turns to look at him. “exactly. you know about this topic?”
“of course.” the man sits back on his stool. “the golden house had failed to produce mora as the machine experienced a malfunction.”
“people speculated that it was a plot by the fatui.” ajax starts typing again. he’s not really paying attention to what he’s typing, he just needs something to do with his hands.
“that is correct.”
ajax turns quickly, accidentally meeting the man’s eyes. for a split second, the heart-wrenching pain returns. and when ajax turns quickly back to his computer, nought but aftershocks remain. he breathes. “and how are you so sure?”
“i have my ways. whatever i say is completely the truth.”
ajax does not understand his man. by his appearance, he looks like he’s in his late twenties at most. he may speak like an old man, but his skin is flawless ( the skin that he can see ). he sits like there’s a stick against his back, impossibly straight and proper. his hair, although brown, looks as if it’s shining, reflecting light that isn’t even there. and yet-
“i don’t believe ‘buy sunsettias’ is a part of the first economic crisis of liyue, no?”
“shut up.” ajax takes his hands off the laptop, face slightly flushed. “it’s sunsettia season in mondstadt.”
and yet,
ajax feels like he’s telling the truth. maybe it’s the way the man speaks — like a old historian. or how prim and proper and educated he seems. but his gut is saying this man is telling the truth. and his gut is usually right.
but a man in his late twenties, saying his knowledge on the fatui plot two thousand years ago is factual?
“so why did the fatui break the machine?”
surprisingly, the man shakes his head. “you will know soon enough. it is simply not the right time yet.”
ajax stuns at the surprisingly cryptic message. “what the hell does that mean?”
“would you like help with your assignment?” ajax swears the man’s gold eyes flash, and the gold tip of his ponytail glows.
fuck, he looks at those eyes again. he turns back to his computer.
“fine. but i’m googling everything you say.”
( none of the man’s claims are wrong. )
- 𖧷 -
the black-mask man keeps coming back to the store.
“do you really have nothing better to do?” ajax doesn’t even look up from attack on titan as the bell dings. he knows who it is. he glares at the black leather shoes, cursing himself for getting used to this after a mere, pathetic four days.
“if my company is not desired, me and this hazelnut mocha can go.” ajax’s head snaps up.
“don’t you fucking dare.” he makes grabby hands for the drink.
the man chuckles and sets it in his hands. “i am beginning to think that the hazelnut mocha is the only reason you tolerate my company.”
ajax takes a big, satisfied sip. “you and my beloved are a package deal.”
the man sits back on the stool. “how did professor chen find the assigment?”
“she takes ages to mark assignments. you’ll only know until a month later.” ajax pauses his episode.
“i suppose that means that i will have to keep visiting you, then.” the man looks at him with something akin to fondness.
ajax set himself up for that one. he’ll admit it.
“what are you watching now?” the man shifts his stool.
ajax presses continue. “attack on titan. its an anime.”
“animation from inazuma?” the man leans over from his stool to look closer at the laptop screen.
“yeah. tonia keeps begging me to let her watch it, but she only gets to watch it when she’s older.”
“i see.” a bit of the man’s hair falls forward, obscuring ajax’s view of his face.
strangely, ajax finds his hand moving beyond his control. his hand sweeps a strand of hair away from the man’s face. this scene feels so oddly familiar. deja vu?
the man’s broad shoulders tense. ajax snaps out of it and withdraws his hand quickly, the strand falling back in place. “sorry!” he leans back on his chair, putting as much distance between them as possible. the man withdraws slowly back to his stool.
“it’s okay.” the man brushes the strand behind his ear, but the mask elastic obstructs it. it falls back again.
deja vu is not a familiar feeling for ajax. not in liyue, where everything is unfamiliar, but?
“are you sure we haven’t met before?”
for the second time since their meeting, he sees the man freeze. for a few moments, it’s almost as if the man’s trapped in time, stopped breathing. a statue of perfect rock.
“yes, i am sure.”
his voice is as calm as always, but it’s the first time it’s been devoid of emotion. still steady, but it feels… like he’s lying?
“i swear i’ve done that to someone befor-”
“ajax.” his eyes flash a brilliant, shimmering gold, and the tip of his ponytail begins to glow gold as well. ajax feels a strange aura around the man. he might be imagining things, but is the ground quaking a little?
“alright alright.” he holds his hands up in surrender, heart palpitating. “must’ve been someone else.” the ground beneath his feet stills again. what the fuck?
the man gives ajax one last look, before sitting back properly on his stool. “tell me about this inazuma animation.”
he’s really good at changing the topic, ajax thinks.
“okay, so, what is your opinion on humans fighting big scary titans while they battle with the real true enemy: themselves?”
- 𖧷 -
ajax learns to stop asking questions.
- 𖧷 -
ajax is a little shit.
he knows it. his friends know it. his parents probably called him a little shit to their friends once.
he turns the thermostat high. its 9:53pm and he’s sitting in a tshirt, a bead of sweat threatening to trickle down his face. it’s the middle of december.
the bell dings, as if on cue.
“craving a bit of summer weather, ajax?” the man teases as he hands ajax his customary, steaming hot hazelnut mocha.
“yeah, i’m kinda sick of being cold all the time, don’t you?” he cringes at the feeling of the hot drink against his already flushed skin. he sets the cup down.
“i understand what you mean. a change to the weather would do us all good.” the man sits on his stool, as per usual, thick winter coat still on, black scarf still wrapped around his neck. “how was your day?”
“nothing special.” ajax feels a drip of sweat make its way down the side of his face. “normal stuff. classes. studying. napping.”
the man nods. “uneventful indeed, though one could say that sleep, itself, is an event, for when one is sleeping can they experience the dreams that take them far and wide, traverse and explore worlds-“
“isn’t your mouth hot?” ajax cuts him off. “you should take off your mask.”
the man’s eyes widen for a split second, before settling to amusement. “this temperature is comfortable. you do not have to worry.”
“but isn’t it hot?” ajax stretches his arms behind his head. he ignores the underarm sweat stains beginning to form. “you can just take it off. i won’t say anything.”
the man just looks more and more amused the more ajax speaks. “i am very comfortable, thank you very much. however, i believe you should turn down the thermostat. for your own sake, more than anyone else’s.”
“you fucker.” ajax stands up to turn the thermostat down. he picks up a stray piece of paper to fan himself, and sets it down in exasperation when he finds the paper too flimsy. “who the hell are you?”
“what a complicated question. who am i?” the man chuckles. he doesn’t elaborate further. ajax wants to pull his hair out. “okay, fine. are you a spy?”
“no. what would i possibly be spying on, ajax?”
“are you running from the millelith?”
“i am not. hiding here would be foolish anyway.”
“do you have a face deformity?”
“i do not. my face looks rather normal, i would hope.”
“then why?”
the man hums. “what a complicated question.”
“HJSKSKSHSJ-“
- 𖧷 -
“okay, so, hypothetically-”
rosalynne groans. dottore puts his head in his hands. scara stands up to return his tray.
“no listen. i’m asking for a friend, okay?”
“no one believes you.” dottore doesn’t remove his head from his hands. “not a single one of us believes you.”
“well maybe y’all should, god fucking damn it!” ajax throws his cutlery on his plate, black-perch stew spilling everywhere. “i need advice.”
“you or your friend?” rosalynne snarks. ajax ignores her.
“let’s say a really hot, well-educated dude, super tall, walked into the bookstore five days ago.” it’s almost comical how fast they begin paying attention. scaramouche just appears back from the tray return, ears open only for deets, apparently. he needs better friends.
“i need better friends.” ajax remarks.
“hypothetically? just go on you baffoon.” rosalynne is leaning on the table so hard that it tilts slightly. her ears are literally doubling in size. ajax sighs.
“and what if he’s like... strangely self-assured in his knowledge but also has never showed me his face?”
“kinky.” scaramouche scoffs.
“thank you for your contribution.” ajax punches scaramouche in the shoulder. “but what the fuck is up with that? what does he want from me?”
“to fuck, probably.” rosalynne pipes unhelpfully.
ajax rolls his eyes. “no but i swear i’ve seriously met him before. don’t know where.”
“you definitely haven’t. you would have talked about a Hot Catch otherwise.” dottore shrugs. “take a photo of him. i want to see this hot, well-educated man you speak of.”
“whatever.” ajax shoves a spoonful of black-perch stew into his mouth. it doesn’t taste as good at his mum makes it, but beggars can’t be choosers. “i’m just asking for a friend.”
“sure, bud.” scaramouche stretches to pet his head smugly. “sure.”
- 𖧷 -
human nature is to notice, pick out and acknowledge patterns.
the man visits every monday, wednesday and saturday, from 9 to 10pm. always with a hazelnut mocha in hand.
“what do you even work as?” ajax asks.
the man turns from his position at the bookshelves, hands in his coat pockets. “i’m a historian.”
ajax lights up. “so that’s why i did so well for my history essay!”
“it would be counted as cheating if i continued to help you, no?” the man smiles softly under his mask. “i am glad to know you did well.”
ajax’s heart clenches a little. skips a beat. a mixture of the the two. “so, what do you do all day?”
“i am writing a new book. i often lose track of time when i am absorbed in writing. but,” he looks directly at ajax. “i’m grateful for the motivation to stop work at a reasonable time.”
oh god fucking damn it-
“so how much do you earn as a historian?” ajax blurts out a little too loudly. the mans eyes widen slightly. he flushes. “i mean, you buy me a drink three times a week.”
the man chuckles. “i earn enough.”
ajax curses his dumb, big mouth. they settle into comfortable silence for a moment.
“you are not from liyue, no?” the man settles on his stool, staring at ajax intently. “did you come here for university?”
“yep.” ajax stretches. “i’m snezhnayan. but university of minlin has the best history department, so here i am.”
“i see.” a pause. “are hazelnuts a… commodity in snezhnaya?”
“definitely not.” ajax takes a sip unconsciously. “it just tastes nice. it’s the first thing dottore ordered me when i got here.”
the man’s eyebrows raise at the mention of dottore, but they settle soon enough. “so what is your actual favourite beverage?”
“ryazhenka.” he puts his drink down. “its… something like sweet milk?”
“i see.” the man hums. “i am unfamiliar with snezhnayan cuisine, beyond some. have you heard of black-perch stew?”
ajax smiles. “my mum makes it best. it’s my favourite.”
the man seems pleased with this answer. he smiles fondly, and asks, “do you miss home?”
ajax freezes.
“a little,” his voice wavers slightly. “it’s only been 5 months. i’m sure i’ll get over it eventually.”
“hmm.” the man hums, smile dissipating. he doesn’t reply. ajax goes back to his laptop, eyes burning slightly. the mood is effectively ruined, because of his stupid weakness.
he tries not to think about it most days. but sometimes he feels it like a burning in his chest, when he sees a toy in a window that teucer would like, or a family eating together at a restaurant, or even watching the stupid animes tonia wants to watch so much. he’s simply accepted that this is a part of leaving home, that he’s just going to have to deal with it, but sometimes it just hits like a truck.
after a while, he raises his head slightly. the man’s staring at him, eyes gentle. it feels as if his heart is in the palm of celestia — squeezed so tight it could burst, a pain so acute it feels as if he can’t breathe. it’s just his eyes, god fucking damn it. they’re gold and brown and beautiful, and they’re looking at ajax with concern.
“do you have friends in liyue?” the man asks.
ajax inhales shakily. “oh, yeah um-” he fumbles. “yeah, i have a friend group from the snezhnaya students association. oh, and a few dumbasses from mondstadt and inazuma.”
“that is good, then.” the man tilts his head as if he’s in thought. “i know liyue doesn’t seem like home, but just as the leylines carry with them the memories of those long lost, people carry their memories and feelings in their heart.”
“humans are simply like that. they do not remember much, but it is their ability to hold such sentiment dear that makes them so extraordinary. it is truly something worth learning.” the man says wistfully. “carry a piece snezhnaya with you, and when you return, you can leave it with her until the time comes to leave again.”
the mellow of the yellow light has never felt warmer. ajax feels as if his heart is about to jump out of his chest and land right into the man’s delicate, glove-clad hands. every beat feels like an earthquake, ribcage akin to rattling. it’s as if a dense burden has lifted from his shoulders and made it’s way to his chest. it’s almost hard to breathe.
“oh.” ajax whispers. “thank you.”
“you’re welcome.” the man smiles as he stands. ajax’s head follows him. “it’s getting late. what time do you usually close the store?”
“11.30pm.”
the man nods. “go get some rest, ajax. i will see you on wednesday.” with that, the man turns to leave, bell tinkling behind him, into the dark, snowy street.