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In Sumeru, Kaeya had gone off on delving into one’s own fate and creating their own - taking the role of a prince, the monologue personal to him and yet, he can barely take his own words to heart. Choices are difficult to make after all - they lead to different endings, different outcomes and he hates not having control of what the possibilities are.
Everything has to be predictable - every action is controlled to precision and every word scripted, practiced. Theatrics without the dramatics.
The only outlier - the thing he can't control is Diluc. His eyes are always watching, his guard so high that it never wavers - an open book with the words in a language only he can understand. If Kaeya could only learn that language then maybe -
The unpredictability, the outlier, always throws a wrench into his carefully crafted story - the defiance of fate. And he supposes that one so guarded can also have a weakness - a crumpled mess of wounds and blood, silent fury and anger written on his face.
What the hell happened? Still, Kaeya forces the other to his feet and helps him back to safety. He can't really break the ties that bind them together - can't flee from a fate weaved for both of them, but he sure as hell can fight it. There is no honor in defending a descendant of sinners - Kaeya licks his lips as he tends to Diluc's wounds while the man stays in a space between consciousness and the ever consuming darkness.
They played here as boys - kissed here, even. For it to be defiled with pain feels like a sin worse than Khaenri'ah, but ah…young love is sacred and fleeting.
By morning, Diluc is awake and alert and Kaeya returns to the encampment with freshly hunted meat and fruits.
"Good morning, Master Diluc," he isn't so chipper in his words but there is a softness in the edge of his tone anyways. He’s hurt that Diluc barely regards him but he’s not angry . "I'm going to get started on breakfast and then I'll help you back home." He won't press for what exactly happened - the bodies of a few Fatui soldiers were enough of a message last night.
Diluc lets out a grunt, looking anywhere but at him.
"Don't I even warrant a hello?" He tries to sound sarcastic but the pain is there. The outlier still doesn't respond. Pain flourishes in his chest. "I'll have Sister Barbara come look at your injuries. Her healing, you know, is superb."
"They were looking for you."
His blood runs cold. "What?"
"I won't let whatever preordained fate get to you." Kaeya purses his lips as he fixes Diluc with a stare. Fates do not like outliers - nor do things so heavenly appreciate those breaking it. "I won't…lose you to the Abyss. I won't let you fall further."
"I think the loss of blood is getting to you." He tries to play it off - the ache inside of him worsens. "I'm nothing to be concerned about."
"You're still so stupid."
"Eat your breakfast and we'll get going, you're too heavy for me to carry."
The outlier falls silent - the script is going on track. The stage remains set but this red eyed man who burns inside is ready to set it ablaze. Maybe -
Maybe he'll help him.