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He's done it this time. Yeah, from the way his side burned from every step, the way he struggled to even have a proper stride; that hit was stronger than he anticipated.
The knights trailed after Kaeya, who guided a transport balloon along the road. They had just finished a two-day mission in Dragonspine, investigating an abnormal ley line outcrop that was reported to have killed quite a bunch of hilichurls. Although the mission wasn't too serious, considering how there was barely a soul on Dragonspine that could wander into such danger; they still decided to investigate on the matter as a precaution.
Well, by "they", they mean "Kaeya". Naturally, Jean was opposed to sending him on this mission, mostly because hearing about hilichurls dropping dead was never a good thing. In regards of her staff's safety, she was just about to close off the danger zone with barriers and signs. Intent on keeping civilians along with other knights away from the ley line's reach.
It was Kaeya who pushed on the idea to actually observe the anomaly up close. What's worse, was that he intended on investigating it alone. "Saving resources" he called it. Jean was displeased, getting stiff as a stone with her eyes zeroing in on Kaeya's with a desperate look.
An enraged one, a borderline death glare. But Kaeya could spot the little patches of warmth and concern. It made his insides clench with ferocity, it hurt in a weird way and he found himself proposing a compromise.
He relented and offered to go with a platoon to Dragonspine. Jean was still uneasy but she obliges, because at least he won't be sneaking out by himself to do it alone. She offered the more experienced knights to accompany him, but he declined, opting instead for the rookies that had just graduated from training. It was a simple mission, where can it can go wrong?
That was Kaeya's mistake. Because even though he was the one who trained these knights, he hadn't comprehended how incompetent they actually were in the real field.
Kaeya groaned. The knights under his command lacked initiative and resolve, that he practically had to babysit them. They were so frightened of everything, including slimes. So the Calvary Captain had to deal with them too, and that included the cryo slimes.
When they reached the site, Albedo had actually accompanied them in observing the outcrop. Turns out the elemental flow had just been restricted in its circulation, causing outbursts of contained cryo energy when it was triggered. However this happened, the best way to resolve the issue, according to the chief alchemist, was to trigger and make it produce a ley line blossom.
So they did. And Lord Barbatos, how underprepared they were. Albedo helped out in fending off the hilichurls of course, which sped up their progress by a mile. But Kaeya's knights had been poking at slimes and eating the snow beneath their feet. Granted, they weren't bad. They just weren't up to par with the more experienced knights, as they still needed more work in reflexes.
Despite this, Kaeya couldn't quite mask his frustration with them. Being mostly out of character with a lot of yelling, groans, and insults towards the knights' direction. He was met with a bunch of irritated, sorrowful, and surprised looks. But that didn't matter if their lives were on the line.
One particular knight had wandered too close to a cryo abyss mage, too preoccupied with creating distance between him and a hilichurl. Needless to say, Kaeya got him out of the way in time to get himself sliced by an icicle. Which led him wandering into the abyss mage's cryo mist.
So here he is now, hiding a limp as he makes his way to Mondstadt's gate. After huddling up and giving a proper dismissal, the knights under his command dispersed like flies off to the direction of the tavern.
Amazingly, none had noticed Kaeya's injury. He lurks towards a tree, a corner of the town that stayed mostly hidden in the shade. The wound was superficial, a foot long cut that rested above his left hip. There was some bruising here and there, maybe a bit of bleeding. But Kaeya's sure it was fine.
He clamps a lose, slightly dusted cloth around the area, then brushing his coat near it to effectively hide the stain growing on his trousers. It doesn't completely hide the injury but it's enough to conceal it from a quick glance.
Strangely, this thought is what brought him limping to Angel's share. At this point, Kaeya saw no need to conceal his exhaustion. Didn't even bother to pull up his usual mask of the charming knight.
No, fuck that. He didn't need that disguise here. When he limped with heavy footsteps to the door, the tavern instantly grew silent.
Stray eyes wandered in his direction, where it mostly came from the knights he had handled huddled up in a table. He was almost certain that they were talking about him. He had, admittedly, been quite harsh with them during the mission. Barking orders, yelling profanities and whatever. It wasn't his usual style, but he found it hard to contain his irritation for them.
Whatever they were talking about in that corner, he couldn't be arsed to care. He makes a quick glance in their direction, before slumping towards an empty table at a dark corner of the room. The tavern quiet enough that he could hear his own footsteps being uneven, favoring a leg over the other. The Cavalry Captain smirked.
He hadn't taken his usual spot at the counter. No that would be too easy, too obvious.
Gradually, the murmurs start to pick back up as the talking grew louder. He hunched over the table, a hand pinching at his brow as he scowled deeply.
After the adrenaline and cold melting away, there was actually nothing stopping Kaeya from feeling the wound's effects.
He hadn't actually ordered anything yet. But he found that remaining incredibly still was the best way to keep the pain at a low level. So he stayed there, hand draped over his eye, blocking the light from his surroundings. Mostly counting on the knowledge that tonight was a particular someone's shift.
A while passes by before he hears careful footsteps treading closer to him. The figure gently sets something on his table, ice clinking to the glass.
Catching his breath, Kaeya risks a glance, only to find Charles gazing down on him. He had a soft smile, eyes ridden with worry. And Kaeya relaxes for a bit, accepting the drink as Charles strode over back to the counter.
A rise of panic struck Kaeya as he catches a glimpse of fiery red hair by the counter. His back was turned to Kaeya, the ribbon of his apron dangling below his waist. He was nonchalantly wiping a glass, his hair wrapped in a messy bun hanging low on his head.
He doesn't look worried, or tense or angry. Just... relaxed. He didn't even bother looking in Kaeya's direction. When Charles returned to the counter, he had lured himself closer to Diluc to whisper something in his ear.
His shoulders straightened quite a bit, before relaxing them once again and nodding in reply to what Charles said. Setting the now clean glass in one of the cupboards, and getting a new one to wipe at. His back was still turned to Kaeya.
Look at him. All Kaeya wants was for Diluc to look at him. A quick glance, a swift turn of the head. Something.
Please... anything.
A look of disdain, anger, disgust. Whatever. At least he would exist enough in his world that warranted him to acknowledge his presence.
When Diluc first arrived, the sight of Kaeya alone was almost enough to make the redhead pop a vein. It seemed as though Kaeya's entire existence was the bane of his.
He questioned Kaeya on his whereabouts. Stating how there couldn't possibly be any other reason why he's still staying in Mondstadt.
Why the hell was he here?
At first, Kaeya was taken aback by this. Mostly because he had never seen Diluc glare at him that way. The crinkle of his nose, the crease in his brow, his eyes that dug daggers into Kaeya's soul. He was angry. No, enraged. He saw Kaeya as a threat, an enemy, someone who needed to be wiped off the face of the earth.
Stones dropped onto his gut as it sinks down to his knees, because this is where he realized that Diluc will never look at him with the same love as he did years before. That innocence, joy, and genuine excitement, one that Diluc used to gaze at him with. It's buried in the past where Kaeya can never get back to.
And for a while, he was scared. Scared that he will walk this earth the rest of his life knowing the person he cared about the most wanted him gone. Scared that he'll never be able to blame him, because at the end of the day, he had every right to be mad.
Not just mad. He had every right to hate him. Every right to despise the fact that he was still walking in a city meant for him to betray.
Kaeya risks another quick glance towards the counter. A rough pang to his chest when he finds that he still hadn't looked at him. Back turned, his shoulder blades moving in the rhythm of his arms, as he cleans the glass slightly more aggressively.
The knight takes a sip of his drink. Death After Noon, his usual. It was cold, it hit the back of his throat with a cool minty air. He feels his side stinging with pain, so he downs the drink with quick gulps.
He drank quickly enough to feel the ice spreading to his temples. It was a blinding, numbing ache. But it helped him keep his thoughts at bay. He squeezes his nose bridge, not bothering to disguise his discomfort.
The sound of glass being set down prompts Kaeya to sneak another glance. Nothing, it's still his back. Still the ribbon of his apron, still his low bun, still his moving shoulder blades.
The knight feels his pants sticking to his side. It felt cold. Even with the warmth of blood, he still felt so cold.
Lately, Diluc has been mellow. No more were the glares, the cold shoulders, the painfully stern remarks. Before, the mere sight of Kaeya would already show its effects on Diluc's face. Maybe he would've scurried away, arms crossed, stomping his boots lightly to the opposite side of the room.
Then one day, Kaeya strode over to the tavern for a drink, intent on annoying its bartender for personal entertainment. But when they spoke, there was nothing.
There was no anger, or disgust or any emotion that showed he harbored any negative feelings towards him. But there was no warmth either. No trace of empathy, interest or any sign that he was even paying attention to the conversation.
He was stone cold, a blank expression on his face. He asked Kaeya what he wanted to drink, and then went ahead and made it. He was treated like any other patron he'd served.
This sent Kaeya to a state of despair. Because he wasn't supposed to be like everyone else. He wasn't supposed to be a stranger. Maybe he can't be a brother anymore, but he had to be something. An enemy, a rival, a threat. Anything.
They had history, one that used to feel like warm soup on a winter night, but now tainted by blood and pain and tears. But still it was history. That meant they had to be something to each other.
The days stretched by, and he slowly watches as how Diluc becomes more and more apathetic to Kaeya's presence. Kaeya will go over to him, attempting to get on his nerves, and there would be nothing . He'll answer his condescending, sarcastic questions at face value in a civil manner, and then he'd move on. As if nothing ever happened.
As if nothing ever happened . Because to Diluc, it might as well not have.
Indifference. The opposite of love was not hate. It was indifference.
Because hate meant that they still cared enough to be angry. Angry because they expected something to change but didn't. Expected something to get better but didn't. Angry because it hurts to see love be taken for granted.
Indifference meant that you didn't matter at all. Because why would they spend so much energy being angry at someone who doesn't even exist in their world?
That look. Those dead, hollow eyes. Kaeya feels as if their gazes stretched beyond his very torso, phasing through his being as if he wasn't even there at all.
With each passing day, Kaeya feels more and more like a ghost. A phantom that is dematerializing with each time Diluc disregards his presence as if he was just someone in the crowd. Does he even exist at all anymore?
Kaeya clenches onto his wound, leaning forward towards the table to bury his face in his other arm. The wound was wet, and it stung.
It stung and it's so cold.
He's trembling now, though he's not sure if it's from the chill or something else. His drink lie half-full by his side and he refuses to down any more. The ice melts into the drink and he's certain it'll taste bland and flavorless.
Kaeya was injured, looking as pitiful as he's ever been. A ghostly expression hung across his face as he waltzed into the tavern waiting to drink his life away. He's a shitty leader, the bickering of the knights he lead hours prior a testament to that. They're all in this tavern, and they're all up for display. A spectacle worthy of judgement.
Diluc hates wine, hates any sort of alcohol. So Kaeya drinks more of it.
Kaeya is incompetent. Because what able-bodied knight would allow themselves to be sliced up by an abyss mage of all things. He covers the area with a piece of dirty cloth because he is not capable of taking care of himself.
He loosely draped his coat over the stain, the red still visible even with its cover, because Kaeya's sloppy with no regard for detail.
If you observe it closely, you will most definitely see the stain.
He can't go up to the counter, no way. That would be too easy. Kaeya wants Diluc to do it by himself. He wants Diluc to look by himself.
Let the sight of blood be the reason the fire starts. Please ...let the fire start.
His trembling intensifies, his leg jumping slightly. He's so cold.
He doesn't care if it's the same fire that nearly killed him that night. Doesn't care if it's the same fire that burned his skin into ugly patterns and plagued his mind with blinding red. Because at least it would be his fire. At least it was a fire that was meant for him. Only him.
Just to make it stop being so... damn... cold .
The tavern was silent now, empty. It was dark, dim lights occupying the space with soft orange hues. Charles had already left, it was the end of his shift after all.
Kaeya is still sitting in the corner with his drink half-empty. He takes another sip, and just as he expected, it tasted like nothing. The melted ice took over the drink and the flavor was all gone.
Diluc wasn't even here anymore. There is no one at the counter.
Kaeya fixes his gaze at the counter anyway, gliding his index finger along the rim of the glass. One of the lamps above his table simmers down until it extinguishes itself, its flame now reduced to the smoke.
Kaeya sighs. His side stings, and it's cold. But the cold seems easier to tolerate now.
So he shuffles his feet below the table, getting ready to push himself up. He's overstayed his welcome, he wasn't supposed to be here.
Quick, frantic footsteps. Heels clicking as they made their way to the tavern entrance. The sight of golden hair catches Kaeya's eye first, the glimmers of her eyes second.
Jean marched over to Kaeya, her fists clenching at her side with white knuckles. Her face is flushed red, her temples contoured to indicate the strain in her brows.
"...Kaeya, what are you doing here?" she asked with faux calmness. He can hear the hurt in her voice, he knows she's mad.
Her figure is full of grace, elegance, even when she's overwhelmed by the feelings in her chest.
Kaeya chuckled dryly, "what else? But for a drink," he closes his eye and finishes the drink in his hand, gulping quickly to brush over its lack of flavor.
Jean wasn't happy with that response. What composure she had before was starting to slip away. Her shoulders rise, her brows furrowing upwards.
Kaeya hated that look. He'd seen that expression so often directed at him, and she always looked like she was about to cry. Those baby blue eyes, always full of concern and worry, empathy and so much care. There was pain in those eyes, hurt for him.
It's the same look she gave him when she found him in that pond after that dreadful night. Where thin sheets of ice and cold, bloody water cradled his floating form. Calla lilies framed his vision as the morning sun blankets her figure in harsh white light.
She's always been so concerned, so caring, so gentle. Even back when they were kids, she had always handled him with such carefulness.
He can't have that. He shouldn't have that. If the person who knew every dirty secret about him can't look him in the eye the same way she does, then he can't take that from her.
"Why didn't you go to the cathedral for healing?" She asked, a sense of professionalism still somehow present.
"It's barely a scratch, my dear Grandmaster," he waves a hand, charming smile on the ready, "please don't burden yourself with matters such as this. I'm sure you're already busy enough with duties as it is."
" Kaeya!"
His smile drops, eye darting to meet hers.
"You're not work, Kaeya. You're a person." she states sternly, eyes digging daggers into his. But there was no malice, no hate, it's just... care.
He's a person? Everyone is "just a person". What importance does he have over the others?
"You're my best friend, Kaeya."
Oh.
So he must've said that last part out loud.
"Mmm..." he hums, almost amused. He takes a moment to absorb her words, though it seemed the conclusion already reached his mind.
"...Maybe I shouldn't be."
Jean's eyes widen a fraction. The tavern was somehow quieter than how it was seconds prior. Something dense plagues the atmosphere, and Jean found it hard to breathe.
But before she can retort, the door creaks open, and it sounded like it came from near the counter. Fiery red hair appears in a bun low on his head, the ribbon of his apron flutters, as his shoulder blades shift with his movements when he closes the door behind him.
Then Kaeya saw his face, although it's only half of it. Diluc had primarily faced Jean, who had turned her attention towards him as well.
"Thank you, Master Diluc." She makes a brief bow, her eyes fluttering close, before opening them back again once she straightened up.
Diluc gives a quick nod in return. His eyes dart to the side soon after, pausing. A few beats passed before he turns his back to Kaeya once again, and begins preparing to close up the tavern.
Jean directs her attention towards Kaeya once again. She looked displeased, but it seems directionless.
"Come on, I'll heal you up in my office." she looked as if she was about to reach over and grab his hand, but stopped herself midway. Almost as if deciding that she was too angry to help him out.
Kaeya smirks, pushing himself up from the table. His movements slow and ungraceful. It was then Jean sighed, shook her head, and went to wrap one of Kaeya's arms around her shoulder.
Seems she decided otherwise.
They exited the tavern with Kaeya leaning against Jean as they moved through the space. Diluc's back was still turned when they left, flipping the chairs over onto the tables. Kaeya suppresses the urge to look back.
When they made it to her office, Jean had instructed that Kaeya remove his top. So he obeys. He sat on her couch shirtless, and he feels the cool air brush against his skin.
The scars were exposed. Kaeya hated having his shirt off, because it meant that they were visible. But Jean saw them before, so there was really nothing to hide.
She ignored the scars, and instead focused on the cut on his hip. It was still bleeding a bit, but it's certainly an improvement from before.
Kaeya feels the breeze bringing the ends of his wound to come together. It hurt, but it felt good. Jean had Kaeya prepare a cold compress, then used it to press against the newly formed scar.
It was cold, but it felt good.
She tossed his shirt towards him, before going back behind her desk to finish up her paperwork. Again, it's one of those nights. Jean doesn't wanna leave him out of her sight.
So after putting on his shirt, he reclines against her couch, feet resting over the armrest as he is too tall for it. He clasped his hands together as he stares up at the ceiling.
Kaeya thinks back to red hair, how easily he was able to memorize the shape of his back. There was no fire, nothing at all. It was cold the whole night. He can still hear the sounds of young knights complaining and bickering about their mission in the mountains.
When his eye begun to strain, he allows it to lull close. Since Jean didn't actively shoo him away, it seemed that she's planning on camping in the office once again.
The crisp sound of paper being handled occupies the room, with the periodic sound of a quill gliding across it. It's probably already morning.
He feels the coolness of the compress against his skin. Still astonished at how none of the knights noticed his injury, none even left the tavern until closing time. Charles never left the tavern until his shift ended as well. Yet somehow, Jean knew .
It was subtle, but Kaeya saw it. Diluc's brows were turned downwards, the creases in his brow barely visible. But it was there .
Kaeya doesn't suppress the grin creeping up to his lips.
So maybe he did look.