Chapter Text
Moonlight sifts in through a curtain-filtered window as Kaeya tugs on a simple t-shirt and sweatpants - after all, bed clothes aren’t necessarily supposed to be fancy, they’re for sleep.
The bluenette Knight pinches the last of the candles, Cryo snuffing out the warm, orange glow that radiated from the wax cylinder. The man then reaches for his bed, pulling back some blankets and slipping under them.
He notices something is off when ten minutes pass.
He concludes he can’t sleep by twenty.
He realizes a possible cause at thirty-five: it’s because tomorrow is the anniversary of the day everything fell apart.
“I need to tell you something, Diluc.”
He should have kept his mouth shut.
Now everything they had is shattered like glass and layed about the floor of Time, but no god cares enough to clean it from its place at their feet, to help mend what seems to be forever broken.
But no sense in worrying about it right?
Apparently, wrong. Kaeya lies on his bed, silent and uncomfortable and racing through thoughts faster than Venti can ever claim gliding is; this goes on for about another half-hour before he’s finally relinquished to the dream world.
“Mister?”
“Uhm… Mister?”
Kaeya’s eyes open the outlines of sunlight, but something blocks its source. A figure stands over him, blurred out by his own grogginess. The bluenette blinks a couple times and his vision clears up, but his brain still refuses to process what he sees.
Looming over him is a small boy, one too tan to be Mondstadtian by heretics, with one cerulean eye and one bandaged one, oceanic hair falling down his head like a waterfall. His pupil is abnormally star-shaped, and concern blankets his expressions. He stands up straight, but not very tall, allowing the Sun to blind Kaeya for a moment. He’s quick to throw up an arm to shield his face, and he sees his glove.
“You’re not my brother, not anymore.”
He regrets that day more than anything.
“Uh… Mister?”
The Cavalry Captain’s attention is directed back to the child at his side, and he stands to realize the boy isn’t even half his height.
“So, uhm… what's your name? Mine’s Kaeya.”
Realization hits him like a brick.
“You are our nation’s last hope.”
“That’s impossible,” Kaeya - the older one - grunts out, a throbbing headache overtaking his skull. “It just… you can’t be…”
“So, what’s your name?” The boy cocks his head, frowning in visible confusion.
“Uhm… well, it’s the same as yours,” he explains weakly, massaging his temples. The boy’s eyes light up.
“Really? I’ve never shared the same name as anyone else before!” The kid is pure, Kaeya concludes, purer than he’d ever guessed he was.
“Hey, Mister, do you know where we are?”
Kaeya suddenly realizes he’s somewhere, he remembers his location is crucial and that, if he’s here, it means he’s either in a dream or he’s been dragged somewhere while he slept. The former isn’t exactly likely, considering he’s acknowledged it as a possibility, but Khaenri’ah did have a lots of dream- and sleep-related herbs, so there’s always a slim chance…
Either way, he should figure out where exactly he is in relation to Mondstadt, so he begins looking for landmarks or something familiar.
He focuses on his surroundings, and everything is familiar.
He recognizes the forest beside them, the orchards in front of them, and the large mansion they fail to completely hide.
What’s more - what’s worse - he recognizes the family on the porch. Made up of two opposite children and their father, everything is all too familiar to him.
And so is the sharp feeling of panic spiking in him, urging him to get away, get away, get away-
“Come on, it’s time to go,” Kaeya whispers to his younger self, speaking so fast he almost trips over his words. He reaches around the boy’s back and begins ushering him into the forest.
“Wait,” he keeps trying to look back at the three older strangers, “who are they?”
“I can explain later, just walk ,” the adult insists, “ move .”
Kaeya ends up successfully pushing the boy into the cover of the trees and perches himself on a rock, refusing to take his eyes off the smaller version of himself. The child stares at him, and it’s obvious he has no ideas about what’s happening. Kaeya suspects his next words, which so turn into reality.
“I’m confused,” whines Kaeya’s younger counterpart. “Who were those three? Why did we run away, Mister?”
He’d really been hoping he wouldn’t have to explain, but it’s not like he’s had a running streak of luck - quite the opposite, in fact; he’s never been the fortunate type.
The man lets out a long-winded groan, stuffing his face between his bent knees and ruffling his hair in any effort to release the agonizing pressure clouding his thoughts. “Look, they… they were us, along with our brother and father - a second one, I mean,” he finally manages to say. He figures ripping the bandage off is the best approach, but he immediately regrets his choice.
“Woah! We have a brother? And another father?” Kaeya can hear the kid’s voice sparkle with excitement, striking his brain with anxiety about what could - no, what will happen next. “I wanna go meet them!” Exclaims the bluenette, but Kaeya grabs his hand before he can go.
“No way, Kaeya. You cannot interact with them - not only will it not work, but it’s a bad idea in general.”
“But I want to go see how older me lives! He seemed so happy earlier - he was smiling and having fun,” he pleads.
“The Kaeya up there chose wrong - I chose wrong. You can’t do the same. Please, just ignore them until you’re old enough to take care of yourself. Then, and only then, can you make friends with Diluc.”
“Which one is Diluc?” Kaeya - he’s really getting tired of that word - looks up to see the child’s head turned toward the building in what must be a painful neck position. “The red-haired boy? Or the man?”
Kaeya shakes his head, attempting to bring the subject off his slip-of-the-tongue comment. “No one. What do I call you? We can’t all have the same name, it gets too confusing.”
“Well, you’re Mister-” Kaeya-M, Kaeya-M translates, “-so I’ll just keep calling you that.”
“Does that make you Kiddo?” Kaeya-M teases out of habit. He’s honestly surprised when the boy, apparently fine with that nickname, shrugs.
“Okay, call me Kiddo, then,” he answers blankly “So, who’s Kaeya Number Thr-?”
“No one,” Kaeya-M cuts him off, “because we won’t speak of him. He won’t even acknowledge him or his family,” he deadpans. “Do you understand?”
But Kiddo puffs out his cheeks and furrows his eyebrows stubbornly. “Three,” he demands.
“Fine, then, Three it is, but three is an unimportant number for an unimportant person. We are ignoring him from here on out.”
“Hmph!”
Kaeya-M looks down, realizing his grip on Kiddo’s wrist lingers. He notices just how small Kiddo’s arm is, how skinny he used to be. His fingers clasp around Kiddo’s skin-blanketed bones - because there’s hardly any muscle or fat to speak of - wondering how such a scrawny boy could ever survive on his own. He quickly dismisses the thought, though, because mulling over things like that won’t help anyone. He’ll just have to instruct Kiddo on how to take care of himself until he’s old enough to get a job, buy a house - reconcile with Diluc , his brain tacks on without his permission.
“I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he mutters softly.
“Huh?”
Kaeya-M flashes a smile. “Just follow my lead.”
Kiddo returns it. “Okay!”