Chapter Text
Clocks are loud. Painfully loud. Whose addled brain concluded that they should be this loud? Staring at the constellation of dents in the ceiling is best accompanied by the finer tune of silence, but even above the intermittent rush of cars outside Xiao’s window, the ticking piece of plastic marks each passing second in high definition. He tries not to claw into the pillow he’s wrapped around his head — the promise of gathering and throwing away an armload of cheap stuffing and shredded pillowcase deters him from his impulses.
So yes, the gears grind and the hands move, and Xiao grits his teeth while considering the merits of splurging on a pair of noise-canceling earbuds and gluing them in.
However, Xiao’s most important conclusion? The person who invented clocks should apologize to insomniacs everywhere.
Xiao releases the pillow with a sigh, the hum of the city a constant despite most of the residents planning to wake up at five in the morning to go for a jog with their tiny children or even tinier dogs. All before donning their pressed suits to work in the Nation’s Capital.
The light on Xiao’s laptop blinks, reminding him of the workload he’ll have to face in the morning. Midterm exams, literature analyses, and creative writing pieces mock him equally, whether he’s in the middle of working on them or not. The books that remain unread as well as the concepts that haven’t yet made it onto the page feel neverending.
Before Xiao left California a year and a half ago, Zhongli told him that college would be the height of his life; sure he’d lived a life of diversity growing up, but the east coast is bursting with people from cultures Xiao had only read about briefly in history class or in the odd novel or two. Not to mention the Teyvat University faculty have small libraries in their offices, rivaling even the one Xiao created in his room at home.
D.C. means uneven streets laid a couple hundred years ago and museums boasting the most unique and obscure collections — despite Xiao knowing the contents of the temporary exhibits would show up elsewhere in the world within the next few years.
Once upon a time, Xiao dreamed of stepping outside the Irvine bubble, but the glamour has worn off and he’s reminded of all the visits to L.A. he never made even when he “lived so close” as some of his acquaintances have said.
He’s met plenty of people, but he only recognizes them as “girl who interns for that senator from Michigan” or “that other girl who interns for that representative from Wyoming”. His usual weekend plans amount to getting a spot at the window on the quiet floor of the library, watching students filter in and out of the non-Starbucks coffee shop on the first floor of the adjacent building.
The professors do have impressive libraries, so much so that Xiao has almost worked up the courage to ask to borrow one or maybe fifty books. But in the end he always spends his chosen office hour slot asking questions about next week’s assignment rather than the contents of their latest published paper.
And if Xiao wasn’t in the middle of studying every hour of every day, he might have a chance to head to the Smithsonian stop and walk the halls of the Holocaust Memorial Museum. Or maybe he would just spend an afternoon watching the red pandas play at the National Zoo. Instead, he’s become most acquainted with the single metro stop between Van Ness and his university, and the 20 minute shuttle ride between the station and campus.
For the most part, Xiao’s brother isn’t off the mark, but he overestimates Xiao’s ability to follow through with precision.
Maybe if he showed the same discipline for going to bed on time as he showed in his running habit, it’d be easier to navigate through the downsides. Sleepless nights themselves aren’t abnormal — Xiao considers more than five hours of sleep a luxury — but he prefers spending the midnight hours with his siblings, passing a bag of potato chips between the three of them while they watch cheesy dramas until they pass out on the couch. They’ve tried over Discord, but scheduling watch sessions doesn’t have the same effect.
Xiao reaches over in the darkness, feeling for the charging cable trailing from his phone on his bedside table. He runs his fingers along the cord and tugs, causing the phone to drop into his hands and light up. He squints — yet another assault on his senses.
He flicks through his apps and opens YouTube for the third time tonight. He ignores the recommendations of kittens playing with string and horror movie reviews, instead opening his watch history.
The first video, titled Wunsch, is a black screen with white lyrics in some serif font or another. Even just the moment before he clicks on it allows his features to soften, a sliver of his stressors falling away in anticipation of a mere five minutes of low quality sound. Still, no other song can beat this particular plucking of strings and the smooth hum of a lilting voice.
He clicks. Closes his eyes. Waits.
But it never comes.
When he opens his eyes, there’s no white text, and the screen isn’t nearly as dark as it should be.
This video has been removed by the uploader.
Surely YouTube is malfunctioning and it’s giving Xiao a bogus error message. Can’t blame it for faltering from time to time. At least the entire site isn’t down like it’s been a couple nights in the past couple years.
He closes the app for a few seconds and reopens it. This time the thumbnail is greyed out, a small symbol in the middle in a darker gray with three lighter-colored dots in the middle. There’s no title anymore. Wunsch is now [Deleted video]. He clicks anyway.
This video has been removed by the uploader.
“I literally just listened to this half an hour ago,” he hisses.
He restarts the app again and again, but the same message remains pasted across the screen.
There’s zero chance the song got deleted by the creator after all this time. Xiao opens the search bar and types “xx_barbatos_xx” and filters the results by people. The account itself has to exist even if the song doesn’t. No one deletes an entire account just because they don’t want their video available to the public.
Nothing appears.
Gone.
Xiao’s heart thumps against his chest, his pulse racing to catch up with the reality of his situation. The one and only surefire way for Xiao to fall asleep has disappeared. It might still exist somewhere as a series of code, but it’s effectively gone forever. It has fewer than 2,000 views, and at least three-fourths of them have to be Xiao. There’s little chance of a reupload for a non-popular song unless the creator themself reverses their decision to remove it.
Xiao flops onto his back, arms outstretched, and whispers, “Fuck.”
He accidentally nudges Toes in the process, and the black furball opens his eyes for a moment to level Xiao with a glare. He acts as if the five seconds he’ll spend awake before slipping right back into kitty dreamland are more valuable than Xiao’s entire tuition. Toes has nowhere else to be tomorrow except for his food bowl and, subsequently, his litter box.
If only Xiao’s day-to-day concerns could be so inconsequential.
Instead of pretending he’ll magically fall asleep, he slips out from underneath the covers and heads for the kitchen. A cup of tea won’t help any, but at least it tastes good.
As he fills the glass tea kettle — the one piece of kitchenware he owns that he initially thought was stupid, but has grown to appreciate aesthetically — he spots light seeping from underneath his roommate’s door. If she’s still awake, she’s likely got her nose stuck in some archaic tome about Rex Lapis, the patron archon of the mythical land of Liyue. Xiao doubts even the most devout worshippers of any religion could compare to her zeal for the divine.
He grabs two mugs from the cabinet. One is black, the two golden cat eyes on the side peering into his soul. The other is white with a rainbow-colored handle, a unicorn rearing majestically on the cup itself. They were both housewarming gifts from one roommate to another, a practice neither of them had requested prior to exchanging them in August.
After removing the kettle from the stove, Xiao leaves the tea to steep. He peeks over at his roommate’s door again to confirm her light is still on. It is.
Xiao approaches and knocks gently.
No answer.
He knocks again, a little louder. “Ganyu?”
Thump.
“Ah! I’m up!”
Xiao smirks, but forces his expression into neutrality so she doesn’t think he’s teasing her. What must be a 2,000 page tome on the history of Rex Lapis lays face up on the floor. Ganyu rubs her eyes sleepily, tugging a blanket around her shoulders to better cover herself.
“You good?” he asks.
She hums. “I’m fine. Just studying.”
“Alright, well I’m making tea.” Xiao gestures a thumb over his shoulder. “Want some?”
She glances at the digital clock on her desk and nods. “Sure, if that’s not too much trouble.”
Despite having lived together the last few months, the amount of facts Xiao can recite about Ganyu can’t even fill a coffee mug. She grew up in a small, quaint, highly-religious town in Texas before getting a scholarship to Teyvat University. Apparently the moment she tasted freedom, she slinked into the safety of the school library and instead pored over religious texts in her free time.
Heck, the only time Xiao manages more than a few words out of her is when he mentions Rex Lapis. Even for a religious studies major, she borders on fanatical — which is to say she leaps over the border and plunges headfirst into a sea of crazy. It’s a wonder she’s dating Keqing, a woman who Xiao is pretty sure would be branded a heretic if she ever went with Ganyu to visit home. The power of love and respect, Xiao supposes. He’s not even sure how they met considering they’re both in different departments and neither of them care for socialization outside of the usual allotment.
Although Xiao misses the constant banter between himself and his siblings, he also appreciates the quiet air Ganyu elicits. Xiao doesn’t need to recount his entire day or rehash every nightmare he’s had for the last 10 years. All he needs to do is exist in the same space for a moment or two, and somehow he feels more at ease.
“Are you and Keqing going to the thing on Friday?” Xiao asks, draining the rest of his green tea. “The twins won’t stop yelling about the Winter Festival every time I see them.”
Ganyu hums and tilts her head slightly. “I’m not sure. We both have to study and I think she’s supposed to be working, but it may be nice to enjoy the atmosphere rather than staying indoors all night. I’ll ask her.”
If Xiao were ever inclined to ask Keqing to hang out, she’d probably hit him with the studying excuse as well. For Ganyu, however, Keqing will pretend she’s not even in school or employed.
“Are you attending, then? Seeing as it’s a special event and all.”
Xiao shakes his head and takes her empty mug. “Got some papers to finish. Don’t think I’ll have time.”
Only a partial lie.
Ganyu smiles. It’s not the one she uses when talking to her parents on the phone, but one of her genuine ones. A perk of her being half-asleep and also of living in close quarters. “Well, good luck. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
He snorts. “Here’s hoping.”
They say their good nights and by the time Xiao’s finished placing the mugs on the drying rack, the light shining under Ganyu’s door is out.
At least one of us is sleeping tonight, he thinks.
Toes greets Xiao at the door of his bedroom by flopping at his feet, rolling onto his back, and mewing curiously. Unlike Xiao, Toes is in bed by midnight and wakes up at eight in the morning without fail. Still, he requires Xiao close by while he sleeps. It’s weirdly satisfying that he deems Xiao his all-important vigilant watchkeep.
Xiao slips under the covers, lying on his side as he scrolls through his dozens of playlists — if he can’t sleep, he might as well drown out the clock with decent music. The plucking of electric guitar strings cues the opening of Dangerous Summer’s The Permanent Rain.
Toes stretches, arching his back with his butt high in the air. He treads over Xiao’s side and plops down, the perfect picture of a burnt loaf of bread.
Despite the cold air sending shivers up Xiao’s back and not being able to pull the covers over his shoulders — Toes refuses to budge no matter how hard he tugs - he chuckles at the selfish creature.
“Love you too, dumbass.”
✧✧✧✧✧
The first day, Xiao is able to rouse himself with minimal difficulty, but it’s the subsequent days in which he finds himself ready to fall asleep at any given moment.
Even though it’s Friday and everyone else is making plans to go out as a last hurrah before finals, Xiao finds himself in the student cafe typing up an outline for his analysis on The Picture of Dorian Gray. Usually he prefers to go home to work on assignments lest someone come to interrupt him, but he’s less likely to fall asleep if he’s in public.
“Jeez, Xiao, you look terrible. Doesn’t he look terrible, Aether?”
“I dunno. He looks the same as ever.”
“Does he? I don’t remember him looking this bad.”
“I can tell you for a fact–”
Even Hu Tao, in all her sisterly glory, wouldn’t come between Xiao and his assignments. Well, as long as he promised to go shopping with her since she needs “moral support”. The gremlin twins, however, carry out their harassment campaign without a semblance of shame or regret.
“I get it,” Xiao says through gritted teeth. “Can you save the whole ‘mischievous twins who say insulting shit for kicks’ bit for when I’m not about to pass out?”
Lumine and Aether blink their daffodil-colored eyes at him in unison before identical grins spread across their faces.
“Were you up late watching p–”
The rest of Aether’s comment is lost behind Childe’s hand, which now covers his mouth.
“Now, now,” he says, “let’s not torture the man. Not until he can fight back at the very least.”
Aether sticks his tongue through the gaps in Childe’s fingers, but even then Childe doesn’t let go.
“Are you ready to be mature?” Childe asks after a few more moments of useless struggling.
Aether nods.
“Good. Proceed.”
“Thanks,” Xiao says sarcastically, “Really helping me out here.”
Childe only winks in response. It’s a wonder Zhongli ever bothered to become acquaintances, much less friends, with him.
Xiao squeezes his eyes closed for a moment, and then levels the trio with a glare. “If you don’t need anything important then can you please go somewhere else?”
“But we do need something important,” Lumine chirps.
She scurries over to her brother and gestures for him to hold one side of the rolled up fabric she’s holding. He walks backward, almost knocking into another student walking behind him, and they unravel it until there’s the space of two tables between them. On the banner, in large serif font, is “Teyvat University Winter Festival” surrounded by seven colorful symbols that vaguely resemble natural elements.
“Ta-da!”
Xiao raises an eyebrow. “It looks great, but I don’t know why you came to show me.”
“Weeeell…” Lumine starts.
“We need help decorating for tonight,” Aether finishes.
Xiao stands and immediately shoves his laptop into his backpack. He’ll have to make sure nothing is dented or cracked, but it’s a problem for future Xiao. Current Xiao needs to run before he gets dragged into involuntary manual labor.
“Aww come on, Xiao,” Lumine whines. “We just need one more person to help out.”
“Ask your girlfriend to do it.”
She tilts her head. “Girlfriend?”
“Yeaaah.” Aether claps Xiao on the shoulder. “My lovely sister is entirely blind to the purgatory she’s put poor, sweet Noelle in. But that’s not the point. The point is—”
“—we need you specifically or we’re never going to get this done,” Lumine cuts in, springing forward to hang off of Xiao’s arm while Aether keeps him trapped from the other side.
“For fuck’s sa—why me?”
“Because you’re good with heights and if we let Noelle on the catwalk she’ll find some way to trip right off the edge,” Lumine explains.
“And I really don’t want to clean that up,” Childe mutters.
The catwalk is a narrow set of walkways above the auditorium stage. Very few people have clearance to go up there besides theater tech, but Childe has always been close with the faculty in the theater department so he’s been able to let people up under extenuating circumstances.
“The Festival Committee doesn’t have funding set aside to pay for a coma patient’s medical bills,” Aether says solemnly.
Childe nods his head, feigning seriousness. “That’s right.”
Xiao scrambles to recall a mental list of people in the theater department. “What about Amber?”
Aether shakes his head. “She’d probably start swinging from the railing and break herself.”
“...Eula?”
Child scoffs. “If you think I’m putting my best dancer anywhere near that catwalk—”
Xiao groans. “You can’t find anyone else?”
“Nope!” the twins say in unison.
Xiao glares at Childe, searching his expression for culpability, but the smirk on his face has always been a constant, betraying nothing unless Childe himself wants to let Xiao in on his secrets, which he never does. Xiao’s not sure if Childe influenced the twins into being as conniving as they are due to being their “Introduction to Theater” course TA or if they were always this insane.
Well, finals are coming up. Xiao can just tell them he has a stack of assignments waiting for him—
“You can’t say you’re doing assignments,” Aether says, the little mind reader. “Every college student is in a perpetual state of ‘doing homework’, therefore your argument is null and void.”
This is how Xiao finds himself hanging lights above the stage of Teyvat University’s prized auditorium stage. He follows Lumine’s directions as he and Aether position them. Childe feigns a calm countenance, but Xiao can tell he’s watching them warily from where he leans against the wall. They might have permission to be on the catwalk, but one wrong move could get Childe’s privileges revoked.
“Looks perfect, guys!” Lumine calls from below.
“It fucking better,” Xiao grumbles. Getting up on the catwalk in the first place was a test in patience considering the ladder creaked the entire way up and for some reason even being on the platform doesn’t feel sturdy enough. Not to mention they’ve been working on adjusting the same light for the last 20 minutes for the “perfect placement”. Lumine’s obsession with symmetry is less than healthy.
Xiao holds onto the railing and stretches his back, unfurling like Toes when he’s been curled up on the couch for too long. For a moment, he lets himself enjoy the scurrying actors, techies, and volunteers from above.
“Hey Lumi! Remind me not to forget my scarf on the catwalk, ‘kay?” Aether says as he ties his scarf on the railing.
“I’m not reminding you of shit,” she replies.
“Harsh.” Aether sidles up beside Xiao, lightly bumping his shoulder with his own. “Enjoying the view?”
Xiao shrugs. “If you can call the auditorium seats a view, then sure.”
“Those are some damn fine chairs if I do say so myself,” Aether says, smirking.
“They just fold up so perfectly.”
“Right? Georgetown could never.”
Xiao nods. “All that money and they can’t even afford badass chairs.”
Aether chuckles under his breath. Xiao can’t help the smile that sneaks onto his face. It’s not funny. Not in the slightest.
“Are you guys going to keep talking up there? We still have work to do!” Lumine yells.
Aether cackles and flips Lumine off. She returns the gesture, sticking her tongue out for good measure.
The twins drag Xiao around the Mondstadt Arts Center, coaxing him onto rickety ladders to hang garlands of snowflakes along the ceiling and directing him as to where all 20 tables should go in the main lobby. At least the latter comes with assistance from Amber who can’t possibly injure herself carrying lightweight tables short distances.
When he’s given a moment alone, he leans against a wall and surveys the room. The mix of crystal blue and porcelain white decorations give the building a sense of being in an ice castle. It doesn’t help that the university doesn’t believe in turning on the heat until it gets below 40 degrees outside, but it’s pleasant to look at.
“Water?”
Eula holds out a bottle to Xiao and he takes it with a nod. “Thanks.”
She crosses her arms and glances around the room. “Looks like you guys were busy. Did they get you to do most of the work or were they helpful?”
Xiao shrugs. “You know how they are.”
She laughs behind her hand. “Well, you can’t fault freshmen for their energy, but they definitely haven’t yet grasped the concept of responsibility.”
“What’s Childe’s excuse, then?”
She leans against the wall next to Xiao and crosses her arms, looking up to the ceiling in thought. “You know, I’m not sure. I think he decided one day not to grow up and he’s stuck to it ever since. At least he’s tenacious.”
Xiao nods, but offers nothing else. Unlike the twins, Eula doesn’t force a conversation where there’s none to be had. Instead they sip water next to each other and listen to the discordant sounds of musicians warming up strings and brass drifting from the theater doors.
“Eulaaaaa!”
Amber comes barreling down the hallway. Eula pushes off the wall and opens her arms just as Amber jumps into them.
“Woo! You caught me!” Amber whoops.
Eula squeezes her around the middle and rubs her nose against Amber’s. “Always do, bunny.”
Xiao doesn’t smile, but his heart does melt a bit at the sight.
“Childe was asking for you. Says he wants to give you a few notes before tonight’s performance.”
Eula clicks her tongue. “He could’ve told me earlier. I could’ve practiced more.”
“Boss man does what he wants when he wants, I guess,” Amber says, booping her girlfriend on the nose. Then she turns to Xiao. “Are you coming to the performance tonight?”
Xiao shakes his head. He spots a few groups of people milling about outside, hands shoved into peacoats and breath frosting into the air.
“Break a leg,” he says.
Both women beam, although Eula’s is more gentle. Graceful, even.
“Thanks!”
“Thank you.”
Xiao retrieves his jacket from the back of one of the chairs and shrugs it on. The walk to the stop isn’t far, but the buses come less frequently the later it gets in the day. If he happens to miss the next one it could be another half an hour if he’s unlucky. He considers watching his app to track it, but the second he opens the door to go outside, the blast of air has his hands finding safe haven inside his coat pockets. His ears are already starting to hurt.
As he makes his way to the stop, he passes a few familiar faces. Ganyu and Keqing made it after all. The two of them hold hands, each wearing mismatched gloves that are suspiciously the same color. They probably exchanged one to feel closer to each other or something.
He also passes Xingqiu, a fellow literature major, and his best friend Chongyun as they cross the crosswalk. Xiao can’t hear what Xingqiu’s saying, but whatever it is has Chongyun protesting, the tops of his cheeks dusted with pink.
Xiao comes back to himself when he accidentally knocks shoulders with someone.
“Ah, sorry,” he mumbles.
“That’s okay!” the other person chirps.
Somehow the guy’s smile is brighter than even Amber’s. Considering someone just bumped into him and only gave a half-assed apology, Xiao expected a frown. Maybe furrowed eyebrows.
“Venti, hurry up,” a blonde-haired man calls, beckoning for his friend.
Venti, apparently, hesitates for a moment before complying with his friend’s demand. Xiao watches him go for some reason. It’s not until someone else bumps into him that he remembers he was on his way home.
He brings his hands to his mouth and blows hot air into them, soon after spotting the headlights of the shuttle approaching his stop.
✧✧✧✧✧
After three hours of scouring the text and typing quotes into a Word document, Xiao has a workable draft of his analysis. He even includes an anecdote about the time Oscar Wilde sassed a particularly homophobic critic about how people only see in the book their own vices.
The man had a way with back talking even with the threat of prison.
Xiao digs in his desk drawer for his phone, which has been snug and silent while he’s been working. Apart from a text from his brother asking if he has enough vegetables in his fridge and a Snapchat from Ganyu of her and Keqing enjoying the festivities, nothing dire has happened in the time he’s been entrenched in picking apart the psyche of a man laughing at a world who scorns his happiness.
Toes shifts in his spot on Xiao’s lap, nuzzling his head against Xiao’s thigh. Even though the heater has brought his room to a balmy 75 degrees, he still isn’t cruel enough to move him.
Then his phone begins to buzz.
Call From: Aether 🌪
Xiao sighs, but picks up.
“What do you want?”
Aether gasps loudly on the other end. “Xiao! It’s Xiao, guys. I told you he’d pick up.”
“I believed you the whole time!” Amber yells indignantly in the background.
“No you didn’t!”
“I’m going to hang up,” Xiao warns.
“Nooo. Wait, Xiao. Xiao, wait. I gotta ask for...for a favor.”
The slurring. The whininess that trumps all of the whininess Xiao’s had to deal with over the past 12 or so hours. It’s best to hang up now. Spare himself the idiocy of whatever request Aether has brewing in his inebriated state.
“Xiao Xiao, can you help me?” Aether begs, his voice pitching upward. “Please?”
“You haven’t even told me what you want.”
“Oh! Duh. Well, okay so it’s like this. Remember when we were up on the catwalk and I was like, ‘Lumi, don’t let me forget my scarf,’ ‘cause I love that scarf and don’t wanna lose it. Remember?”
Xiao does. Vaguely.
“Weeeeell...I forgot it”
Xiao furrows his eyebrows. “And what does that have to do with me?”
It dawns on him before Aether gets a chance to speak again. He resists the urge to smack his palm to his forehead. Toes peers up at him with a look that says, Could you please get that idiot off the phone? I’m trying to sleep here.
“No.”
“Xiaooooo.”
“No.”
“But I’m at the afterparty and I’m drunk and Lumi will kill me if I don’t get it back. We can’t be matchy-matchy twins unless we both have our scarves.” Aether sniffles. “Do you want us to not be matchy-matchy twins? Do you hate us that much?”
Hang up, Xiao thinks. Just hang up and pretend this conversation never happened. It’ll still be there tomorrow and he can pick it up then.
Or he’ll forget it was up there and won’t get it back until the spring semester, another part of him reasons.
“You owe me.”
In addition to Aether, several other people cheer in the background. Xiao wouldn’t put it past him to get the others in on this.
“Okay I gotta go now because Amber just poured more shots and ‘m tryin’ to outdrink Lumi. I think people are still there? Childe was being trash and didn’ wanna come party with us.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Xiao says. “Go have fun.”
“Thank youuuu!”
Well, considering Aether is about to owe him tomorrow, he might as well call for a Lyft. He gets into clothes more suitable for the winter weather and waits until his driver is a minute away to head downstairs.
The drive to campus is much shorter, especially at this time of night. The area around his campus is surprisingly dead despite its proximity to the main quad. Probably has a lot to do with it being surrounded by embassies and a few homes likely belonging to middle-aged diplomats who find partying on a Friday night to be something of a nuisance. When he does get to campus, there’s a bit more life, but it’s only since he’s dropped off near the freshmen and sophomore dorms.
He trudges through campus, unintentionally matching pace with the rhythm of some pop song that people pretend they like ironically, but really just like dancing to. While it’s not really Xiao’s taste — he prefers instruments played by hand and not completely programmed on a computer — he’ll admit it’s catchy.
The closer he gets to the Mondstadt building, the less noise there is. The lights aren’t yet dim and most people are gone already, but he sees one person stacking chairs along the walls. Xiao knocks on the glass door.
Childe spins around, a quizzical look on his face. It soon blooms into a grin, however. He jogs over and pushes open the door. “Fancy meeting you here, Xiao Xiao.”
“I really wish Zhongli didn’t say that stupid nickname in front of you,” Xiao says. “You’ve got Aether saying it, too.”
“Just once I wish I could convince you to call me gege,” Childe says wistfully. “Anyway, what’s up? Shouldn’t you be home or something?”
“Aether forgot his scarf and I said I’d come get it for him. Mind letting me up on the catwalk again?”
“Oh yeah sure. You can just go up,” Childe gestures at the stacks of chairs, “I’ve gotta finish cleaning up.”
Xiao nods and heads toward backstage. It’s still dimly lit and he’s able to get up the ladder without too much hassle. When he gets to the top he looks around and spots Aether’s scarf knotted around the railing.
And then he hears singing.
“Can I pull out all the stops / and get out of this town?”
Xiao’s heard of the superstition of keeping one light on in the theater at all times. A ghost light. He’d also heard that the theater might be haunted.
But since when do ghosts sing The Dangerous Summer songs?
“I wanna make you proud / but I really don’t know how.”
The voice is even and clear, a sense of practiced control under the effortlessness.
“I know it’s not helping to hear me say / I wish it was me in the car that day”
It sounds…familiar.
“Though something made me stop and think of what you said / you know it meant a lot / but I was just a kid.”
Xiao steps forward, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever is casting a shadow in the ghost light. He halts abruptly when the catwalk creaks, but the singing continues.
“One with all these dreams of growing up and playing music on the road...”
One more step forward.
“I’ve been screaming all these years and thinking of you both.”
Xiao takes a deep breath. “Hey—“
“Xiao, you good?”
Xiao jolts. He stumbles forward and catches himself on the railing.
“Whoops. That’s my cue,” the voice says.
Before Xiao can get a good look at the singer, they’re running off toward the exit, a spring in their step that says they’re anything but sorry about being on the stage after hours.
Childe walks out on the stage and rubs the back of his neck. He looks up at Xiao and waves. “Find what you were looking for?”
Xiao nods, still disoriented by a singer he’s not 100% sure wasn’t an illusion. Maybe he’s been studying too hard lately. Maybe not sleeping isn’t doing him any good either. “I think so.”
Despite his disbelief in fate, miracles, or serendipity, he finds himself thinking of one name.
Barbatos?