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It was a calm, peaceful night in Mondstadt. The temperature was modest and brisk, and the winds were as gentle as always. There were hardly any clouds in the sky; as such, one would easily be able to see the abundance of stars glittering in the dark sky, no matter where in Mondstadt they were in.
The area of the Ragnvindr estate was no exception, as it especially received such a magnificent view of the stars and moon. Nine-year-old Diluc was able to get a glimpse of the night sky through his bedroom window from where he sat. Just a mere peak of the window from the corner of his vision alone provided a fruitful amount of the bright night sky. It was mesmerizing.
“Your hair is starting to get longer, young master…” Diluc hears Adelinde comment from behind him as she neatens his hair with a brush for the night after his bath. He stares at the blonde maid's reflection, watching as she gently passes the brush through his red strands, and then glances at his loose hair. Adelinde was right; his hair was getting longer, already reaching about an inch past his shoulders. Some thick, loose waves formed as they would grow to that length, showing how soft yet abundant his hair was. He was blessed to have such luscious hair at the young age of nine.
As Adelinde continued to stroke the young boy’s raven locks with the brush, she asked, “A trim is perhaps due, is it?”
“A trim…” Diluc mulled over the words. Indeed, when his hair would reach any length past his shoulders, he would typically request a trim, or a cut just above his shoulders so that he would be able to throw it in a ponytail away from his face with ease. That, and it was the same length his father grew his out as well.
However, this time, he wasn’t feeling toward requesting a haircut. Instead, Kaeya came to mind upon Adelinde’s comment. Specifically, Diluc thought of the boy’s hair, and how unique it was. It was the shade of a starlit night sky, with a streak of sky blue in his bangs. His hair reached down all the way to his waist and was pulled forward into a low ponytail. Even when he walked into Diluc’s life for the first time - all scrawny and practically a pile of bones, his singular eye dull from tiredness yet simultaneously bright from fear, and basically wearing rags - his hair was glowing in health, as if it was the only part of him that survived whatever kind of unknown hell Kaeya had gone through. Diluc has also noticed how delicately Kaeya would treat his hair, confirming that it might’ve really been the only part of the boy that made it through; he hardly trusted anyone else other than Elzer, Adelinde, and both Ragnvindrs when it came to managing his hair. Even then, it took some time for Kaeya to open up and allow them all to help out with his hair. He treated his hair as if it was something that was sacred and pure - delicate, as if he was fearing that he would lose it all.
Diluc has never seen such unique hair as Kaeya’s; he found himself practically mesmerized by it - from its shade of deep blue, to the way it was styled. The red-haired boy remembers asking Kaeya about his hair. He was afraid that he might have sounded a bit harsh towards him, as he was not the best with his words at times. Yet, Kaeya took no offense to it whatsoever; in fact, he seemed bashful yet touched as he answered, “My family and many other people in my homeland would grow their hair out like this.”
Homeland… Even though Kaeya only had one eye visible, Diluc noticed how it twinged in sadness for a bit upon speaking the word aloud. Although the flash of sadness had dispensed quickly, Diluc felt his heart plummet a bit even just from thinking back at the moment. Everyone within the Ragnvindr manor had done as much as they can to make Kaeya feel warm, safe, and most importantly, at home; the household all genuinely wanted the best for the boy and his well-being, for him to feel like he is a member of the family despite the differences. Kaeya had slowly but surely warmed up immensely, seemingly feeling more and more comfortable around everyone within the year he stepped foot in the Ragnvindr estate. Yet, there were instances when the boy would succumb to the very same sadness - whether in a minuscule manner or in an obvious way. Diluc was afraid to directly ask Kaeya about it, not wanting to overstep his boundaries; however, he had once approached his father about it, asking the man what it meant. His father had such a somber expression on him - one that Diluc had never seen from him until that time - as he explained that Kaeya was going through homesickness of sorts.
Even thinking back to it now on this peaceful night - while Adelinde combs through his hair, and the fire from the fireplace crackles peacefully and emits warmth within the whole bedroom - still ignites a feeling of sorrow towards Kaeya. The poor boy does not deserve to feel such sadness, loneliness, and longing. Diluc hopes that deep down, Kaeya can feel even more at home, even if it may be strikingly different from wherever he came from.
Feel at home… Homeland. hairstyle… As Diluc felt Adelinde run a brush through his hair one last time while awaiting an answer from the Ragnvindr heir, Kaeya’s comment about his hairstyle originating from his homeland had given him an idea that he has been wanting to try out for some time.
Diluc finally answers Adelinde’s question, “I actually want to grow my hair out this time, if that is alright.” His reply came out much shyer and soft-spoken than intended, to his slight dismay. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and saw the color of pink dusting his cheeks upon his admittance.
“Huh? You want to grow it out?” Diluc saw Adelinde’s eyes widen a bit from the mirror as she stared at him, “Well that’s a sudden decision. What made you decide on that, young master?”
“Well…” Diluc felt his sudden shyness grow even more, causing him to cast his vision away from the mirror to down where his hands lay on his lap. He mentally questioned himself, Why am I suddenly so bashful about this?
Regardless, he answered, “Kaeya once mentioned how people from his area would grow their hair out. I want to do the same for him, so that he can feel more at home here with us.”
Diluc stroked the tips of his hair with one finger, twirling it around. He has seen pictures and paintings of numerous of his ancestors with hair much longer than his. Some of his ancestors preferred to pull it back in a simple ponytail, just like him. Others preferred to keep it loose and flowing. Some even adorned numerous hairstyles with it - such as a braid or two, or a half-up-down. Regardless of how they styled their long hair, all of the Ragnvindr heirs shared one trait: all of them donned hair as thick, fluffy, and red as a flame. Diluc himself did not feel like he could pull off long hair, so he chose to keep his hair to a shorter length, compared to his ancestors. But now, he’s choosing to grow it out for Kaeya - for his adopted brother’s acceptance and comfort. Perhaps he could actually pull off the look.
Diluc heard a soft hum from Adelinde; a warm and gentle hand stroked the crown of his head for a few seconds. Before Diluc could ask her about the sudden action, Adelinde muses aloud, “You are a very kind boy, young master.”
Diluc practically felt his cheeks flare up with warmth; his reflection did not help at all, as it showed himself with cheeks now nearly as scarlet as his own hair. He nearly exclaimed, “Shh! Don’t tell Kaeya about this!”
Adelinde only giggled in return; Diluc had no idea what that meant.
.
.
.
[Unbeknown to the maid and the young master, Kaeya stood outside by the door. A huge smile was glued to his face as he held back tears of happiness. The boy felt so touched.]
~The night of Diluc’s eighteenth birthday~
Eighteen-year-old Diluc stormed up the stairs of the winery, dripping the carpeted grounds with water from the storm. He blazed past each of the maids, ignoring their calls of worries for him, yet none daring to touch him. Nonetheless, he paid no heed to any of them, even to Adelinde; he didn’t have it in him to spare any of them any with mannerist platitudes. All he saw at the moment was red. It didn’t help that the carpet all over the winery was the same color.
As he entered his room, he stood by the door, leaning his back on it right after he yanked the door knob and locked it; oh, how he did not want anyone to disturb him right now. Not when every limb of his body is practically shaking with adrenaline, rage, and grief. Not when his emotions are all over his place, leaving him literally shaking like a leaf.
The red-head felt so overwhelmed all the same time. He felt a splitting migraine form. Diluc groaned, hunching as he slowly trekked towards a table in front of him. When he finally made it there within the pace of a tortoise, he dropped his sword; he wasn’t even aware that he was still clutching his sword the whole time after the brawl outside, even after barging inside the winery, until it clashed down to the wooden floors with a plethora of clangorous scraping sounds. He bit his lip, suddenly realizing that he endangered all the house staff with the weapon.
Yet, the migraine pulsed through the temples of his head, causing Diluc to bend over the table from the physical pain of it, as well as mental exhaustion and emotional conflict. He has never felt so much turmoil within himself until now; he never even thought that it was possible to feel such a boiling pot of emotions until now. He felt him practically overheating with the anger, yet chilled to the bone from the rain, along with his cryo.
Out of the corner of his eye, Diluc spotted a mirror right in front of him. From what he saw while his head hung low and his gaze was fixated on his scarred hands, it was a tinier mirror; yet, it provided ample enough view of how he looked. He mentally questioned himself if he even wanted to know how he looked; he can practically feel how disarranged everything was.
Diluc slowly craned his head up, his curiosity of seeing how much of a mess he appeared losing to the dread of seeing himself as he dared to take a peek at the tiny mirror in front of him. He immediately froze upon seeing himself in the reflection - regretting his decision yet unable to tear his gaze away from the truth of his appearance. To say that he was just disheveled would be an understatement; the scarlet-haired young man looked absolutely convoluted. His clothing was practically littered with wrinkles, grime, and huge rain droplets from the harsh storm outside. It didn’t help that his buttoned shirt was white, which made all the splotches and creases much more obvious than they should be. There were even a few scratches and tears from the battle he had with Kaeya some moments ago.
DIluc knows deep down that he should immediately get a new set of clothes and tidy himself up as soon as possible; it would reflect quite poorly on himself, especially on his noble status as a Ragnvindr. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even care. His hands were still shaking heavily, whether from the cold of his cryo , the heat of his anger, or both even. He clutched the edges of the table in front of him even more, where the mirror was, trying to balance himself. There were so many negative emotions raging within him, to the point where his heart was practically hammering against his chest and his whole body shook like tree branches in a huge gust of wind. He has never felt so many emotions at once to the point of feeling so overwhelmed, especially a mixture of passionately negative ones altogether.
The Ragnvindr clenched his jaw as he continued to hold onto the table, bowing his head down. A chunk of his hair fell forward, tickling his right cheek in response. Diluc swept it back with a sweating hand, glancing back up at his mirror. His breath hitched as he took in the view of the state of his hair.
His hair… archons, his long hair… His long hair was especially unruly - dripping wet from the rain yet frizzy from everything else. It was disheveled in so many angles and directions, that it was practically hard to believe that it was in pristine shape just some moments ago. His red hair…
Red… the color of his family heritage, the color of the brooch on his collar, the color of his eyes, the color of the family’s best-selling wine, the color of his pyro vision that he recently cast away in rage as hot as his own flames, the color of…
The color of blood…
Images flashed in Diluc’s head. For a brief second, he was taken back to moments ago, where he was outside in the rain, staring down at his father who was laying down crumpled like a napkin, blood oozing out of his body , smearing his face. The same blood that stained Diluc’s white gloves as he cradled the older man’s wilting body.
Another second later, Diluc was taken back to the fight with Kaeya. Even through the darkness of the raging storm and the grays and blues of Kaeya’s uniform, the scarlet hues of blood were unmistakenly there, as Kaeya was littered with fresh cuts. The right side of his face was especially red with blood as the scarlet-head slashed at his face.
The sickening part was no matter how much it rained - how harsh and abundant the falling water droplets were, how the skies practically wept for the loss of a father and a brother as well as trust - it still wasn’t enough to wash away all the reddest of blood.
And now, there was so much red all over. The sight of his long hair no longer soothed him as it usually would, nor did it spark a sense of pride; instead, the sight of it angered him and hurt him all the same. All of that sprawling red color just made his head practically churn. How it haunted him of those past moments, the way it made its way during the battle in Kaeya’s hair-
Diluc suddenly tensed up.
Kaeya’s hair…
Kaeya’s hair was the reason he decided to grow it out. It was the start of everything else.
Diluc took some strands of his hair in front of his shoulder and nearly clenched it into his fist, feeling his anger boil back, as well as… hurt. Archons , he can’t stand his hair anymore, especially since he grew it out all for his bro- for Kaeya to feel accepted and trusted while he was practically ripped away from his homeland, only for him to cut it off like nothing-
Cut it off…
Diluc’s eyes darted down towards the sword that was discarded on the ground for archons know how long. With wide feral eyes, he reached a hand downwards to pick up the blade. His palm shook at first as he went for it; however, when he grasped it, it was firm and unwavering with resolve for the action to come.
As he straightened himself back up with the blade in his hand, he reached his other free hand towards the nape of his scalp. There, he seized all of his hair into one fist, lifting it up as if he was going to tie it up before heading to work. However, this time he was not going to tie it up.
In fact, it would be the last time in a while that he’ll ever grasp his hair like this.
Instead of a ribbon or hair tie, his red strands were met with a blade, as Diluc chops it all off with one effortless slash.
Behind him, the scarlet strands cascade down to the ground, scattering around his heel with red.
They cascaded down like how the rain relentlessly did on Diluc.
Like how his father shriveled down on the ground before he died.
Like how his trust for the organization and the brother he once had and loved so much fell.
[Through his swirl of emotions, Diluc did not hear the whispers and soft chatters of his maids and butler - of how they are also deeply saddened at the late master’s death, how they are concerned for both of their young masters. Of how emotionally distraught Master Diluc especially looked.]
~
Late at night, Diluc lay on the mattress of the bedroom, fast asleep. Ever since he stormed into the room during the day, he had not left. He refused to eat any meals brought to him by the maids and fell asleep with his uniform still on.
His eyes slowly opened, being greeted by the morning sunlight of the next day. His body felt as if he didn’t rest for a week, yet he somehow knew that was not the case. Regardless, he didn’t want to wake up at all; he wanted to sleep his days away, to sleep away the new, abrupt harsh reality. Yet his body, being used to waking up punctually in the mornings, refused to let him drift off into sleep; perhaps the reality had not sunk into his physical body yet.
Upon peeling himself upward in a sitting position, he noticed how his head felt a lot… lighter? This was accompanied by what felt like… a lack of hair.
Diluc glanced down, still feeling a bit sluggish. He was used to seeing his scarlet locks drape all over whenever he woke up from his slumber. However, he saw none of it at all. All of the grogginess he felt from waking up vanished within a second, pure confusion and shock taking over as his eyes widened.
What the… My hair? He reached a hand behind his back. He felt none of his hair, instead grabbing at empty air.
No…
His vermillion eyes widened in pure shock and fear as he finally saw what he did, the realization sinking in even more; some feet away from him on the ground laid his sword, which was starting to rust from the night’s rain. There it lay, surrounded by a sea of long scarlet strands of hair.
His own hair.
His own hair, which he once wore loose and untied with pride, letting it be kissed by the gentle sunlight of Mondstadt and sway in the wind.
His own hair, which he once grew out just so his brother can feel more at ease and at home.
Diluc gripped the sheets of his bed as the slowly-sinking realization now practically plummeted within him.
Archons… What have I done? He thought to himself. He simply sat up on his bed, his body stiff and indecisive in whether it wanted to sink back into the pillows or stand up.
Then, all of the events from the other day flooded into his head; the chopping off of his hair, the rain and blood overtaking everything, him angrily ripping off his pyro vision and knight uniform coat as he practically roared his decision of resignation…
The death of his father.
The brutal fight with his brother.
Blood all over both scenarios.
A wave of nausea from remembering everything all at once - as well as from lack of food, but he honestly couldn’t care less at this point - caused his once-stiff body to now slump and crumple up like the string of a bow unraveling.
His father dying all of a sudden felt real… at the same time, not. Yet he felt hollow all the same at the remembrance.
And then Kaeya… His own younger brother… How the bluenette literally trusted his life to the redhead. How he revealed his true self for him, only for Diluc to cast slashes of fire and chain against him and his identity.
Why did I do that? Diluc thought. Why did I lash out at him like that? What was I thinking?
Gods, his father would be so disappointed in him for acting out as such. Disappointed at how his own son tarnished the relationship with his other son so viciously like that, going as far as chopping his hair off and physically hurting him.
Diluc’s hair was now just barely reaching the ends of his neck. The feeling of freshly cut hair almost made it tickle his neck - a feeling he never thought he would experience, ever. Yet here he was, managing to take in the feeling of his hair of all things amidst his grief.
Perhaps he was grieving the loss of the last connection of his beloved family - the connection that showed his love and acceptance to his now estranged brother.
Now, he had cut that connection off the same way he had cut his brother’s face.
His brother… His only living family member.
He had one job: to preserve the last family bond with his brother. Instead, he severed it off so senselessly.
Suddenly, Diluc felt so confined within the bedroom. He felt so trapped within the whole estate in general. The desire - the urge - to just leave everything at the moment, to seek out the truth of what happened, burned within him passionately.
But another part of him full of grief flooded within him the desire to leave everything behind. Everything including and especially his brother - because he doesn’t deserve to see him again.
He doesn’t deserve to see Kaeya’s face again, after what he has done to it.
Wordlessly, Diluc stood up, hobbling towards a desk. He opened the drawer of it, hoping to find some paper and ink inside.
To his luck, he found some paper and ink.
He pulled a chair to the desk, taking a seat as he took out some paper and ink to pen out his decision to those who need to hear it.
~ Three years later… ~
Diluc found himself back in the city of Mondstadt, standing in front of the Ragnvindr estate. His father- no… his own estate. Even after all those years away from Mondstadt, from his home, everything looked practically the same. It looked pristine yet cozy from the outside, as if it was still being properly maintained and taken care of.
It was heartwarming to see all of Mondstadt, and especially the estate, remain unchanged after those years away. Unchanged, as if it was completely untouched by the harsh currents of time. As if time itself spared everything and everyone else within the nation, choosing to let it all thrive and blossom. At least time wasn’t cruel to his beloved home.
It was a relief that only Diluc left the nation a changed man, coming back as even more of a changed man.
Has Kaeya been still staying here? He suddenly wonders to himself as he continues to stand in front of the structure. Or does he at least drop by once in a while?
His breath then hitched as he remembered Kaeya.
Kaeya…
Upon the thought, Diluc’s hair felt as if it was suddenly weighing him down. It might as well have, with how long it now was, tugged behind into a low ponytail with a simple black ribbon.
It was in this estate all those years ago, in his bedroom, where he decided to grow his hair out for Kaeya. Even though a good portion of his childhood memories were a blur, he can still recall the decision with such clarity; he can recall the exact chair he sat on in his room with Adelinde behind him, how it was nighttime as she was fixing up his hair before he went to sleep. How he was able to steal glimpses of his reflection in the mirror in front of him as he rather shyly declared his choice of letting his hair grow out so that Kaeya can feel at home here.
As he ventured into the rest of the nations of Teyvat more and more over the years, the very distant memory remained strong. It especially became practically relentless as his hair started to grow out more and more. He recalled many times during his travels how even just a second of the memory would arise whenever he would stroke some scarlet strands, or run a hand through it, or getting ready to tie it up. He remembered the awe of seeing younger Kaeya’s longer and shinier hair, how the boy softly admitted that it was common for boys his age in his home place to grow it out, how Diluc felt the want to do the same for him.
Such thoughts had especially run rampant at one specific instance, when Diluc was lying limp on a snowy field in Snezhnaya. He was extremely wounded at the time by the Harbingers, no longer able to run after what felt like forever. He had eventually just collapsed in the snow. At the time, it wasn’t the frigid ice digging into his exposed cheek that piqued his attention, nor was it the blood that leaked from his aching wounds and stained the white with red that captivated his gaze. Not even the frantic thoughts of the Fatui and Harbingers overtook his mind.
Instead, it was his hair, all grown out and loose, that caught his attention the most in that very moment.
The scarlet red strands curtained the white snow with red around his head and peripheral view quicker than the blood from his lower body wounds.
Somehow, the view of his hair at such a time made him think back to Kaeya - the story behind the bluenette’s hairstyle, the childhood decision to grow it out for him. The surprise he felt while going through the process of growing his hair out, how it actually looked much better than he expected it to look like at such long length. The various hairstyles he experimented alongside Kaeya.
His heart had then clenched at how he threw that all away with one slash of his sword without any thought. The guilt of not being able to face his own brother after all he had done so wrongfully. He doesn’t even know if Kaeya is aware of him cutting his hair before he left. He hoped not.
At the time, he truly didn’t think he would’ve made it through alive. He thought he would’ve died all alone - far from his homeland of Mondstadt, in a frigid and windless desolation of an enemy country surrounded by blood, monsters, and snow. Never being able to even face Kaeya again.
Now here he was, far away from that country and everything vile from it. Standing in front of his home, his hair back to its length as if it never even met Diluc’s blade all those years ago.
Diluc had left his home with his hair chopped off in anger but regret later on, and he now comes back home with his hair fully grown out, the scarlet strands he surprisingly missed a lot now flowing with determination and a purpose. Perhaps it also flowed with a desire for a new chance, to make amends.