Work Text:
[ Famous musician DILUC RAGNVINDR affected by the mortal one-sided love disease?! ]
Childe's phone screen almost cracked on his hands after he read the article's title that popped on his notification board.
He usually ignored such articles that were clearly written to catch some clicks and readers.
This, however, was different.
Just reading the name of the person the article was about had been enough to capture his attention, and the rest…
Childe hoped it was just something made up by a desperate reporter to get people to enter the cheap magazine's website. But it was too specific for the doubt not to even cross his mind.
Childe waited for the page to lead after pressing on the notification; dread setting and expanding into his skin with each passing second.
What if it was actually true? Could Diluc be sick?
He remembered seeing him last a week ago, at the building the two of them went to practice with their instruments at.
It was a big building with multiple studios for musicians to occupy at the same time without disturbing others. A single room was just as expensive as it could be imagined.
Obviously they didn't practice together, but they had rented rooms opposite from one another so they bumped into each other quite regularly.
That's how he first met Diluc.
He had seen him all over the Internet, heard one or two songs from him and his band, but it still took Childe by surprise when he stepped into the building and saw such bright and outstanding hair at the entrance in person.
Childe stood there at first, flabbergasted, but he recovered soon enough; and had intended to just keep walking towards the room he had been renting for the last couple of months.
Until that same redhead that made him question his eyes for a second approached him, that is.
"Sorry, do you know where room 12-B is?"
Yeah, sure, maybe there wasn't much to brag about there.
But Childe still remembered it.
Because after that day they started to talk for a bit each time they bumped into each other, even if he could tell that small talk wasn't one of the redhead's best qualities.
They had even gone to buy coffee together at a nearby café for a short break for the two of them.
Diluc talked to him about the upcoming tour of his band. And he told Diluc about the new techniques he had been practicing to show off to his family.
He was not like what he expected a famous musician to be like.
The website finally loaded and the ginger quickly got into scanning whatever nonsense they were saying.
[ Two days ago, we got a fantastic show from Mond's Stars!™ ]
Blah blah courtesy compliments blah.
[ A fan snaked themself into the backstage while the band were playing their most popular song. OMG. How daring!!! ]
Wait. Weren't they acknowledging a crime?
Could they really do that without getting into some legal trouble?
[ They contacted us a few hours ago and send our team a video of the dressing room of none other than the Diluc Ragnvindr himself. ]
That was definitely impossible.
He himself had been at the concert after Diluc gave some tickets he was told to give friends and family.
… It made him happy. Being shown directly that Diluc considered him special.
Special enough to give him tickets that sold out minutes after they were made available.
But he knew for a fact that there had been staff everywhere.
[ At first, we didn't believe it was real! Just like you surely are not believing us right now. But let us show you the video in question and be your own judges. ]
Childe was wasting his time.
There was no way that—
His thoughts abruptly stopped when he scrolled down to see the video they had mentioned.
The first thing to be seen was the hand of the so-called fan opening a black door with Diluc's name written on it. And as they stepped in the room, Childe had to admit it just looked like whatever dressing room one might see in movies.
Nothing to really associate him with the redhead that gave him advice on how to hold his guitar to achieve some accords easier when he mentioned he was struggling.
But then he saw some of Diluc’s clothes on nearby hangers. Daily clothes he had seen him wearing in the studio.
Maybe… it was a coincidence?
Just someone that knew Diluc’s style and made it look like it was his dressing room.
Childe was lying to himself. He knew it.
But what made him accept that fact was something small.
As the person recording looked around everywhere, hurriedly but clearly excited about being there in the first place, Childe's eyes caught a small blue guitar pick on top of the make-up table.
His blue guitar pick. With a Starconch drawn on it.
He had given it to Diluc one day while walking towards their practice rooms.
Diluc told him the one he had been using snapped a bit ago, so Childe put his hands inside his pocket and took out one of his own.
He had a lot.
His brothers and sisters liked to doodle on them from time to time so he kept some with him most of the time.
That's why the instant he saw the guitar pick, he knew it was Diluc’s dressing room.
Despite his initial thoughts, the first part of the article's title had been confirmed.
And after watching the video for a few seconds more, the rest had evidence of being true too.
The "fan" looked into the bathroom after spending enough time in the main room and Childe, just like the one recording, involuntary gasped when they saw the state the sink was in.
Blood. And some flower petals.
It was not dramatically messy, actually it seemed like someone had tried to clean the sink but left the job halfway done. And everything else apart from the sink looked like any other bathroom.
[ "What the f—" ]
Childe agreed with that comment.
He wanted to close the page and turn his phone off.
There had to be an explanation to what was going on on the video. Another explanation than what the article was saying.
Diluc could not be sick. At least not that sick.
Last week… Diluc had been a bit paler than usual. Yeah. But autumn was starting, it was normal.
And now that Childe thought about it, he hasn't heard Diluc’s singing in quite a while. Not on-stage nor at the studio.
He didn't give it any thoughts at the time, but now the puzzle was creating itself inside his head.
It was a rare disease but quite well known for its uniqueness.
The victims started suffocating on flowers their own body created for experiencing an unrequited love. It started slow. Something that most just assumed was a cold.
Until the flowers developed enough and the sick started to cough the petals.
But at that point, they didn't have much time left.
Days, some weeks, maybe a month.
The thought of Diluc being one of those people…
It was not fair.
How could the person Diluc loved not love him back?
Diluc had talent. He cared about the music he made and people around him.
He was kind. Diluc was like a ray of sun on a cold day.
He always denied being special. Most saw him as cold and out-of-touch.
But Diluc was just so much more than what most thought of him.
He—
"Childe?"
He had forgotten his plans for the day had been to practice for a while, so he went to the studio. And he kept standing right at the door when he got the notification, getting lost in thoughts after that.
Hearing his name out of nowhere made him slightly jump and lift his head.
He was met eye to eye with a taken aback Diluc Ragnvindr, standing a couple of steps away from him.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to," Diluc’s eyed him for a moment, but they got caught on the gingers phone. "Oh. So you read about that."
"Diluc…"
"My manager and the rest of the band have not left me alone since that was published an hour ago." Diluc's smile was faint, a tired one. "It should be getting taken down in a bit, though."
Why was he so casual about it? Why was he not calling it a bunch of nonsense, like he used to whenever Childe brought up some other obviously fake news to get a laugh out of him.
"Diluc, is it true?"
"What?"
The question surprised Diluc just as much as it surprised Childe, when he realized it had come out of his mouth.
"I just… I need to know."
Diluc usually stared him in the eyes when they talked. But now, the man standing in front of him avoided eye contact like it would burn him otherwise.
"Diluc—"
"Yes. It is."
Childe didn't know what kind of answer he expected.
He didn't know if he thought Diluc would get defensive or dismissive. He didn't know if he expected him to deny it; he hoped Diluc would deny it.
But the admission felt like a bucket of ice-cold water being dropped on top of him without any warning.
"It is true," Diluc repeated as Childe was too stunned to speak. "It is my dressing room, and I did try to clean the mess but it happened right as the show was starting, so I had to run."
"So you are dying?"
Diluc had been the direct one out of the two of them, so him being at the receiving end seemed to shock him. That, or it was just how serious Childe was at that very moment.
"Childe, I'm not dying."
"So, you are getting surgery or something?"
Diluc blinked, not having a clear answer, "I, well, I haven't decided that yet."
"So you might die?"
"I, Childe." Diluc took a step back, staring at him with a lifted brow. "Why do you care so much?"
"Because I—"
That's when Childe realized. He didn't have a clear answer either.
Sure, he had been hanging out with Diluc a handful of times for some time now. He would consider them friends, even.
But why had he been so angry when he read someone had snuck into Diluc’s dressing room? Why did he need to know if something was happening to Diluc?
Why did he feel so scared of the idea of not seeing him again?
The only thing he could answer him with certainty was,
"I care about you."
"...What?"
Childe laughed, slightly nervous.
He meant those words; but it still feel a bit awkward to straight up confess it to Diluc’s face like that.
"It's not that hard to believe, is it?" Childe asked, looking aside while he brought a hand towards the back of his neck. "We've known each other for months now. It's not weird that I care about you.
We are…"
He was going to say "we are friends, after all" but the words died in his throat.
They didn't feel quite right.
…Maybe he did have an answer as to why he cared so much. Why he was so mad Diluc was sick by a disease caused by not being loved back.
But he couldn't tell him that. Not now, could he?
It would be kind of selfish to tell him that he had feelings for him when he was lowkey dying of something caused by someone not liking him back?
…Well, good thing he had never said he was not selfish.
"Diluc, I—"
Chikde, was again, stopped whatever he was saying or doing when he turned his head towards Diluc again.
This time, however, was because what he saw.
Diluc. With blood coming out of his mouth and dropping onto his shirt.
He was covering his mouth, or trying to, at least. But despite that, flower petals fell to the flower.
They were white. Some were round and others were triangular, but they all were covered with blood.
Childe froze. Just for a second.
His breath got caught in his throat and time itself felt much slower than it should.
However, when Diluc didn't stop coughing, and even dropped onto the floor, Childe rushed to his side.
"Diluc! Hey, Diluc!"
He held the man as best as he could; one hand on his back, hitting it slightly in an effort to free his airway and his other arm was in front of them, in case Diluc collapse and Childe had to catch him.
But no matter what, the petals and blood kept coming out.
"I'm calling an ambulance, okay? Just a bit more." Diluc was strong. He was stubborn. He could survive a few more minutes. He had to. "Stay with me for a bit more, alright? You are going to be fine."
Childe didn't care that he got blood on his phone’s screen when he called the emergency number. He didn't care when Diluc leaned—almost dropped on his shoulder and got blood on his clothes.
He was finding out whoever it was Diluc loved and forcing them into loving him back.
.
Two hours. It took two hours before Childe was able to see Diluc again.
The ambulance had arrived minutes after he called and they had tried to take out as many petals and blood as they could to put an oxygen mask on him.
It was not his first time seeing so much blood—that wasn't the part that bothered him.
It was because it was Diluc, obviously. And those flowers, which were often beautiful and delicate, made him feel nauseous.
As they arrived at the hospital, they rushed a passed out Diluc inside. But before he could follow, the doctors and nurses he was stopped and told to go to the waiting room.
Just like that, Diluc disappeared. And only his blood stayed on his hands; a sick remainder of what could happen.
Half an hour passed in the blink of an eye.
One second he was sitting on one of the chairs and the next we was being grabbed by the shirt by a blue-haired man, being demanded an explanation about the situation.
He recognised him. Just as he recognised the other people behind that man as well.
They were Diluc’s band members and his manager.
If not for that fact, he would have absolutely tried to release some of the frustration he had been keeping under his skin on the asshole holding his—still bloody—clothes.
He knew how much Diluc cared about them, though. So Childe just pushed the hands of him and flopped on the waiting room's chair again, and gave them the answers they wanted.
When Diluc wakes up, he surely wouldn't want to hear about him and his band members getting in a fight in the hospital.
He had to admit that after that interaction, the waiting started to kill him.
They all had been moved to a different room, after some people started a commotion because famous people were idolized and couldn't have normal lives and have things like this happen to them, Childe guessed.
And the sole reason he had been able to go with them too was because he threatened to expose that the blood on his shirt was Diluc.
He wouldn't have actually gone through with it. But none of them needed to know that.
Diluc was not awake when they were told they could go see him, but they still entered the room after hearing the nurse say he was stable.
He would likely be alright. But he had had luck this once.
So they needed to do something fast, or the next time Diluc might not be fortunate enough.
All because someone was stupid enough not to love Diluc.
Childe was started to take it personal.
"What are we going to do?" Jean was the first to ask what they all wanted to know.
"Well, we should wait until he wakes up." Venti, their manager, said. "He needs to rest first. Lisa already took care of the article that started it all, but we'll still need to be careful for a while."
Childe tuned down the rest of their conversation. Whatever they were discussing, it surely didn't regard him.
It might have been important information, yeah, but until he saw Diluc conscious again, he couldn't care about other details.
.
Diluc sure was taking his sweet time to wake up.
The band had left a bit ago, mainly because the press got wind of them all being there and started to swarm the hospital.
So they left, before anyone actually confirmed Diluc’s condition.
They had been unsure if to leave Childe there, but they soon realized he was not getting out of there; and Childe would affirm that point forcefully if needed.
"He did bring Diluc here. At least we can trust him enough to be sure he won't kill Diluc or something." He liked Jean.
Eyepatch-guy, Kaeya, was not entirely convince, but still left.
So he was alone with Diluc. Again.
Childe stared at the redhead's face from one side of the hospital bed.
He looked… wrong. Connected to all of those machines and tubes.
Diluc had already a pale skin but now he looked worse than a piece of paper.
"When you wake up, I'm forcing you to tell me the name of the person you love." Childe said, even if he knew Diluc wasn't hearing him. "Or I'm making you fall in love with me.
Either way, you are living many years more, Diluc."
"Or what, Childe? Would you miss me too much?"
The ginger jumped out of the chair, almost falling to the floor as he snapped his head towards the "unconscious" pacient.
Diluc laughed.
It was a small laugh, quiet. One he could have missed if he wasn't right beside him.
"You—" Childe's face turned a shade of red too similar to Diluc’s hair. "You were awake this whole time?!"
"Hmm." Diluc hummed, instead of saying 'yes'. "You can believe I just woke up if that lets you sleep at night, though."
His voice sounded too raspy.
Childe sighed, sitting appropriately on the chair once again. "I guess I'm glad you are well enough to make jokes."
He looked at Diluc’s face one more time.
This time, Childe was relieved to see his red eyes open, staring right back at him despite the oxygen mask still being on his face.
"You just had to press the right nerve, didn't you?"
"Hey! How was I supposed to know that saying I care about you would lead to this?!"
Diluc laughed again, only to be cut by coughs coming from his throat.
Childe quickly got up, reaching for a bottle of water on top of a nearby desk.
"Diluc, take it easy."
"It's al, alright. My throat is just dry."
None of them spoke as Diluc grabbed the bottle from Childe after he had opened it and drank from it
It wasn't precisely awkward. It actually felt kind of nice being at each other's side.
It was comforting.
Diluc was awake. And Childe hoped he didn't have to worry about seeing him collapse again soon.
He had to do something before it happened again.
"If you were awake this whole time, then you heard what I said. About finding out who you liked, or…"
"Making me fall in love with you?" Diluc ended the phrase he wanted to say.
Childe could only nod. "I'm not letting you die for some jackass that is dumb enough not to like you back."
He was serious.
He would let Diluc suffer anymore for some person.
"You don't have to worry about that."
"Of course I do. I've made up my mind, Diluc."
"Childe—"
"And I don't care what it'll take. You deserve to be loved back. You are so gentle despite what many think of you, and you put so much effort in what you do. Not just for yourself, but because you want to give your fans the best music possible. So—"
"Childe. "
He shut his mouth as soon as Diluc grabbed his hand. "You are the person I love."
"...What?" It seemed it was his turn to be taken aback, again.
"Yeah. For a while now." Judging by the color on Diluc’s cheeks and ears, Childe assumed how embarrassed he was about admitting such things.
Diluc had never been one to openly talk about feelings, after all. "I… really like how passiomate you are. How you care so much about your family.
I guess, I just fell for you without realizing it at first."
Childe could only stare at Diluc's face as he spoke.
The person he liked, that supposedly didn't loved him back… had been him this whole time?
"And you… kept quiet about it?"
Diluc just gave a small smile and nodded. "I just figured a bit ago too, but… I was afraid. Of this feelings, of confessing them to you.
I didn't want to scare you away."
"And you'd rather die than tell me that?!"
"Well—"
"Don't 'well' me!" Childe was a bit pissed, he was not even trying to hide it. "You scared me to death! And I was ready to beat up the person you liked!"
"I mean, you can try to beat youself up. I won't stop you."
Childe gave him an unimpressed look, to which Diluc did nothing else but to grin.
And here he thought he was the one that joked around serious matters.
"Maybe I'll do it. And you'll have to take care of me."
Diluc shook his head, acting tired but he gently squeezed his hand.
"You think it's too late to change my mind?"
"You are in a hospital because you didn't think I liked you back—"
"Don't say it like that."
"—so yes. It's too late to change your mind"