Chapter Text
Autumn arrives with no warning in its wake. Time to change the beddings, to dust out the warmer set of clothes.
It’s blankets and hugs and cinnamon drinks. Time to light up the fireplace. Klee is ecstatic. They roast marshmallows over the flames. They sleep in thick blankets.
And a child is a funny thing. A creature of naivety and easy joys (and easy tears, also, when days are too long and too lonely.) Kaeya holds her dear, close to his heart, she deserves it.
Together, they live in an apartment that sometimes feels a little too big for just the two of them. Three chairs, three plates, three sets of cutlery, for the two of them, Kaeya and Klee.
But there’s Dodoco now, he takes as much as he can of the empty space. He occupies the chair right next to Klee, he warms the third sofa in the living room.
Desperate to fill up the chairs, fill up the place, they have other people coming and going, making sure the front door doesn’t stay closed for too long.
Bennett sleeps over on fridays, Mona empties their pantry when her deadlines come around, Lisa comes over for tea. And they fill the space, they fill it so well. They bring warmth to the living room that not even the fireplace could have achieved.
Their apartment, full of cushions and blankets, with plenty of Dodoco plushies to occupy the emptiness when it’s just the two of them. It tries, desperately, to be a home for this girl with no father, no mother, no brother, and a stranger for a caretaker.
Will it ever be enough?
Kaeya does try to give the girl anything she might need. Simple joys, clothes on her back, an education. For that purpose, he brings her to the knights’ library three days of the week.
“Geography today, then we’ll try reading once more,” Lisa nods to herself. She has accepted to take Klee under her wing and teach her the basic things she would be learning in a regular school.
Her peculiar student, the one with silver hair who barely speaks, is here as well. Klee seems to enjoy having a companion at least. It makes it more fun to study, especially for the things she has trouble with, like reading.
“Bye bye, Klee. See you later,” Kaeya kneels to her level and pats her head.
“Bye, Kaeya Kaeya!”
The weeks repeat themselves, one after the other. Work in the ordo followed by dinner in the apartment, with Klee. Tending to his duty, tending to the girl, an endless cycle that he has come to cherish. Mundane days that are simply happy.
Until their mundane days turn into something else (It is autumn after all, the season of change), and a quiet uproar shakes the city like a leaf in the wind. An unknown genius arrives in town, and with himself he has brought a brilliant project proposal—the same one that afforded him the title of genius in the first place.
Faced with such intelligence, the council of knights—those nosy old men tasked with representing the will of the people—found there was no other choice than hurriedly gifting him the title of captain.
That sudden change in the ordo’s organigram leaves Kaeya with much to do.
No with his horses but with a lot of papers, in need of reading, redacting, signing, ratifying. These days Kaeya finds himself wielding his ink more often than his sword. It means he’s home with Klee more often at least, and gets to share more of those precious moments with her.
He spends half his time with her, and the other half in his office, with his papers, and Jean sometimes, like now.
“I thought you’d like to take a look at the infamous proposal before meeting the new captain,” she hands him a heavy stack of paper. “He’ll be here for tomorrow's meeting.”
“Whoever he is, he’s sure to be amazing,” he says half-jokingly.
“He is. I’m sure you’ll agree once you meet him.”
The knights have the pesky habit of promoting about anyone to the rank of captain. Not that Kaeya complains, the pay raise that came with the title helped out a lot when he had to figure out how to raise a little girl all on his own.
Their constant lack of manpower is another issue. That is where the unknown genius comes into play. Kaeya’s done his research properly, of course. His extensive web of informants have paid close attention to the whispers in the streets, although most of them are not very useful.
People say the new captain is full of charms and kindness. They speak of his pretty eyes. Other than that, they like the way his mouth moves when he talks.
He doesn’t even have a proper title yet, other than ‘new captain’ but already he captivates the attention of the townsfolk.
To them he is an interesting novelty. A new spring to the monotony of their lives.
**
Mondstadt has a problem. Well, it has had many problems and that for many years. But the most bothering one out of them has to be the smell that started to come from the water a few years ago. People have stopped bathing in the lake but have learned to ignore the pungent odour.
The proposal of the mysterious genius promises to offer the solution so that the people of Mondstadt can finally breathe freely again.
People love genius ideas, but they don’t particularly enjoy difficult concepts. That new captain is brilliant to be sure, yet he lacks the ability to put his thoughts in simpler words. The whole 43 pages of his proposal are nothing short of formidable, which is a nice way of calling them overly complicated.
Kaeya reads it once, understands most things, then reads it twice to start to annotate. Then he remembers Klee and runs to the library, though he is already late.
He finds Lisa sighting and Klee curled up under a desk.
“I was teaching them about the Hypostyle desert and at first she seemed to enjoy it but… She’s been sulking for at least one hour now. She refuses to look at me.”
Kaeya lets out a breath. “I’ll talk to her. Thanks as always Lisa.”
“You’re a good father, Kaeya,” she says half joking, half meaning it. It makes Kaeya roll his eyes.
“I doubt I’m anywhere old enough to be a father.”
He gathers the girl in his arms—she barely fights it, like Kaeya she is tired and only wants to go home.
“Let’s go, Klee.”
Klee hides her face on his shoulder the whole way home and her grip around his neck is firm. The moon is a white crescent above, surrounded by the gleam of dim streetlights. Faces turn towards them when they go through streets. People and neighbours give them their whole misplaced attention. After all, to them Kaeya is still a singularity, a mystery to unravel, working their fingers in order to unwind him, thread by thread. How amusing it must be to them.
Of course, they cannot help but notice he is alone in taking care of the little girl. His bachelor status has made rounds and they have taken it upon themselves to do something about it.
The local grandmas have tried matchmaking him. People have tried loving him, for a night at a time at the very least. But fleeting affections don’t cure loneliness. They fill the void, for a moment, and it is not the same thing.
They offer him flowers and little nothings, words and unnecessary touches to his skin while they talk over a drink.
It fills space, not loneliness. Just like Dodoco does, in the end. Just like Kaeya tries to do when it’s just him in the apartment with Klee.
**
The next morning, Klee is still feeling down. Lisa taught her about Sumeru, and now she thinks of her mother, who last wrote a letter about her exploration of the mausoleum of King Deshret.
Kaeya curses Alice sometimes, really. Because Klee had been so young when she left. Because her letters will never replace her presence. Because, after everything, Kaeya cannot be Klee’s father. Because a mother is supposed to care.
He leaves a little more early than usual that morning. He had meant to revise his papers last night, but that time had to be spent drying Klee’s tears until she fell asleep. Coming early will at least give him time to prepare for the meeting. He takes out the 40 pages document as well as a few sheets to take some notes
After working for a couple of hours, he decides he has done enough and heads to the meeting room, early once more.
He’s not exactly a dedicated worker, but he tries to be at least a little bit useful. Jean needs the help anyway and Kaeya refuses to be a thorn in her side. It also happens that they need someone to chaperon the new captain. Kaeya so kindly volunteered to supervise him and support him in his ambitious endeavours.
(In his loneliness, at least, he’s learned how important it is to be there for others.)
But in autumn, the world is doomed to be disturbed. Which is why, when Kaeya enters, there is already someone seated in the meeting room.
The man on the chair does not stand up. He smiles, an easy quirk of his lips and crinkling of his eyes. “It’s been a while, Kaeya,” he says.
Albedo.
It really is him, with his braids, and the star on his neck, and his stupid coat that makes him look like some kind of scientist. He’s always been charming, overly so, unfortunately.
It comes back to Kaeya, all at once, those scattered moments of joy, before the loneliness.
“What are you doing here?”
The last time Kaeya saw him the sky had been glowing with summer rays. The last time he saw him, the apartment hadn’t been so unfilled.
Back then, Albedo had been there. With Kaeya and Klee, on the chair, in the bed, on the third sofa. Warming the room with hugs and smiles. A family, in their home. (And a Klee, so small, sleeping peacefully between them.)
But that was three years ago, and enough time has passed for Kaeya’s scars to fade into his skin. He became a knight, he redecorated his room. He created a world in which Albedo had no part in.
Albedo ignores his question. “That uniform looks great on you,” he tilts his head, strands of golden hair fall over his eyes.
Funny how years of resolve can be shattered in one second. Kaeya tightens his fists to stop himself from being stupid.
“Albedo, you—”
“How is it, being a captain? Honestly I never imagined you would join the ordo,” the other says conversationally. The casualness in which he conducts himself doesn’t fail to anger Kaeya.
“What about Klee?” he says through gritted teeth. “What about your promise to Alice?”
Above everything, reassuring Klee had been the hardest part. Her father had died, her mother had left and then her brother disappeared.
(Mending the pieces of her scattered heart had not been easy. Kaeya spent weeks sleeping in her room to prove that, no, he wouldn’t be going away as well.)
Albedo’s lips downturn and he frowns a little. “What if I said I never wanted to leave the two of you?”
If it had been three years ago, it would have been so easy to hold his hand and smoothes out the lines above his eyebrows. Yet now Kaeya has no idea how he is supposed to face him.
It would be easier to go against all reason.
But it is autumn now, three years later, and his heart is a dry leaf.
“Then I'd be foolish to believe you,” Kaeya says.
After a beat, Albedo opens his mouth once more but whatever he wants to say is forgotten when other knights start to enter through the door.
Jean clears her throat, and just like that, the meeting starts.
Albedo, the renowned unknown genius, the one with the proposal of more than 40 pages, stands up when it is his turn to speak. The room goes silent, everyone busy being amazed or taking notes. Kaeya pretends to not notice every time Albedo’s gaze falls on him.
He also ignores the worried glance Jean throws his way. There’s an entire storm brewing up in his chest and he’d rather she doesn’t get caught in it.
When the meeting ends, he is the first to leave his seat.
**
There was a time, it seems so long ago now, that Kaeya only had to think about himself. And then he met Klee, one summer day, and then he became her friend, and then her only caretaker.
He’s been changed by her. He’s been turned kinder, better. She’s the water, he’s the clay, with her he’s easier, less stubborn.
She’s the best thing he’s had in his life, and the object of all his worries (Will she grow properly? Will she be happy? Will she eat enough, will she do well in life?)
He was able to give her what she needed. An apartment (almost a home), food on the table, an education. Yet now there’s a new unknown to the equation: the return of Albedo.
Ignorance is a peaceful bliss, a privilege of childhood. One which Kaeya has elected to preserve for as long as he could when it comes to Klee. A child is a fragile thing, as fragile as a house of cards in the wind. The only way to protect her is to shelter her.
Kaeya wishes he could keep Albedo’s return a secret forever, that she will never have to think of him again, never remember that she was once abandoned.
But hasn’t he learned by now that the steps we take to avoid fate, one by one, lead us to it? An unavoidable path.
A door opens abruptly the moment Kaeya walks towards his office. Klee appears through the doorframe and smiles big when she spots the cavalry captain.
“Kaeya Kaeya! Albedo came back!” she yells to the hallway.
Apparently the old empty office at the end of the corridor now pertains to Albedo. He has wasted no time in making himself comfortable there. It hits Kaeya all at once that the sight of Albedo in the ordo’s building, and in Mondstatd in general, will soon become a thing that is entirely ordinary.
Klee pushes him inside, close to Albedo, and looks at him, waiting for the extent of her happiness to be mirrored on his face.
“How kind of you to come visit us, Mister Albedo,” he says, if only to humour Klee.
“My, I don’t intend for this to be a simple visit but rather a more extended stay,” Albedo replies amiably. “And please, no need for formalities between the two of us.”
Kaeya ignores him because he has no idea how to reply. Conversations with him used to be as easy as breathing.
“Klee, weren't you supposed to play with Huffman today? What are you doing here?”
“He said he was too busy to go fishing with me,” she pouts, “and look! Albedo brought me books!”
A tall pile of books of vivid colours stand on the desk, others are scattered on the couch. They’re orange, red, blue, green, and all with letters of a bubbly font on the cover.
“Do you like reading, Klee,” Albedo asks, voice kind.
Klee deflates. “No…”
“Oh, then perhaps I should take back those Fontanian books where I found them.”
“No!”
Kaeya had forgotten how usual it is for Albedo to joke around, especially with Klee. His gaze is full of mirth and there is a rare genuine smile on his lips. (The townsfolk have described his eyes as pretty, they aren’t wrong.)
Klee is also smiling, wider than before. This just may be her happiest day in a long while.
Does she know what resentment is, at her age? Is it even possible for her to despise Albedo for leaving her; to despise her mother?
One day, perhaps, she’ll decide that they have been too cruel to her, but right now she is smiling, and she tells Kaeya to get closer to them so Albedo and her can show him how pretty the picture books are.
A child is a fragile thing, one disturbance could break her so deeply and Kaeya wouldn’t be able to know for sure. He wants to be her shield, to protect her from this world, but there is very little he can actually do. (Klee does not resent Albedo, nor her mother, but Kaeya does, for her sake.)
“Kaeya! Look, they took pictures underwater.”
“Quite beautiful I would say,” Albedo adds.
Kaeya sighs, finally giving the books his full attention.
Maybe this moment is precious, too (even with Albedo with them, three instead of two).
**
“Let’s start here, then?” Kaeya says. “This should be the headwater of Cider Lake.”
Turns out that the magical solution (put into easier words by Kaeya) is to simply clean the water, remove all the wastes, trash and dead animals. Perhaps they’ve been too busy to even consider something so simple.
The cavalry captain may not have any horses at the moment, but he does retain a group of cavaliers under his command. He has brought a dozen of them today to support the new captain, the one with genius ideas and no staff.
“What do you think?”
He turns his head to find that Albedo was already looking at him. “Yes. It’s better to begin where the water starts.”
The other knights are on their best behaviour today, Kaeya has never seen them be so obedient. They listen to Albedo well, they execute all his orders without an objection (even when he tells them to clean out faecal matters).
They appreciate his gentle voice and the charming way he carries himself. In factions, they move, becoming tools bent to Albedo’s words and will.
“What are you doing?”
Albedo has kneeled to the level of the water, gathering some of it in a vial.
“Sampling the water. Poor sanitation and corrupted waters are primary causes of all sorts of ailments. By observing the bacterias I want to figure out just what sorts of infections we’re confronting, though appropriately managing the lake will already ameliorate the state of things,” he says, failing once again at putting it simply.
Kaeya hums.
Albedo was always meant for grand things. Unlike Kaeya who satisfies himself with very little: papers to sign, horses to look after, and a two room apartment not too far from the city. He’s a creature of habits and easy pleasures. Unlike him, Albedo seeks for the truth of the world, and his ambitions are bigger than all of Teyvat.
They must have already cleaned more than half of Mondstadt’s waters when they stop for a break.
Kaeya finds a spot a little away from the group of bustling knights, and with a tree providing the right amount of shade.
He doesn’t know why he lets Albedo take a seat next to him. (So far, hasn’t Kaeya been really bad at avoiding him?)
They sit together silent, with the wind gentle and the day still warm despite the season.
It brings back memories of simpler times, which have been destroyed by three years of absence. Kaeya looks at Albedo and finds that he cannot read him after all.
What are three years to a homunculus? Probably nothing, like ice that melts, a puddle of water.
What is this moment, if not nothing of importance. (Instances that used to mean so much to Kaeya. They were nothing, in truth. Nothing at all.)
Albedo removes his gloves, revealing the flesh of his wrists. This moment is precious too, but only to Kaeya.
“You know,” Albedo speaks suddenly, his tone unsure. “Before I… left you. Alice had just revealed to me a clue leading to my master’s whereabouts.”
Kaeya doesn’t bother pretending to be surprised. It has always been about his master, ever since the very start. Lying in wait until he’d be reunited with her. (Everything else was merely a distraction to pass the time.) When they had settled in Mondstadt after barely making it out of Khaenri’ah, Kaeya was too naive in thinking it would be forever.
“And, how was she? Did you finally get what you wanted?”
He sighs before he answers. Kaeya is tired of trying to figure out what is going on in that head of his. Three years are enough to break a bond. Whatever connection they used to have has fallen victim to the careless hands of time. Now, he cannot know what he thinks.
Albedo looks up to the sky. The wind ruffles his hair gently. “I’ve been foolish. I already had it,” he says quietly.
How easy it would be to simply forgive him, to say he can have it all once again. But Kaeya is not so simple, and Albedo never apologised.
After his gloves, Albedo shakes off his coat. He sighs again and then undoes his braids. He looks tired, a set of dark shadows have nestled themselves underneath his eyes. If he is still the same as before then he must have been anxious about sharing his work with the people of Mondstadt. Perhaps in this queasy state he has unwantedly forgone sleep.
He lays his coat on the grass and settles on it.
“Please, wake me up when the others are back,” he asks.
Kaeya watches him as he lies down completely. As he closes his eyes. As he attempts to find the most comfortable position. As he places an arm on his eyes to shield them from the sun. Kaeya doesn’t know how to stop watching him. (After all this time he is still so easily mesmerised.)
“I’m sorry Kaeya. You always were so precious to me, you and Klee.” Albedo eventually says, eyes still closed and voice dim.